The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

THE MULE

1

‘Do you think you can help me?’ asked the thirty-year old redhead who could have easily passed for five years younger.

She had come to me seeking help for her anxieties; the usual-not sleeping, not eating. She was waking up in sweats; all of the symptoms of a repressed memory or two that had decided it was their time to surface in her subconscious mind to be dealt with now that a suitable time frame had passed since their origin. She hoped like hell that I could help her. She had nowhere else to turn, other than a doctor and an endless supply of sedatives. My name is Wallace-Peter Wallace. I’m a therapist-a Hypnotherapist. I am also a natural dominant male and proud of it.

‘No guarantees, Mrs. Johnson.’ I told her.

‘No, no.’ She came in quickly. ‘I understand it depends on my suitability for hypnosis, but if I’m okay it should work, shouldn’t it?’

They’re all the same and thank heavens they are, bless their little all-female hearts-most of them, anyway.

‘Do you have any questions about it?’ I asked her as a matter of formality.

‘Can we just… do it? Now?’ Her eyes almost begged. Talk about a high degree of expectation.

‘How much do you want it to work?’ I asked her.

‘A lot,’ came the earnest reply.

I led her through to the clinic, which was a separate room from my office. It was separated by nothing except space, with the green chair I used for therapy clearly visible from where she had been sitting across from me at my desk. I had seen her eyes look at it several times, as all my patients did. That chair seemed to be like some sort of magnet to them. What did I care, as long as it heightened their expectations of the desired outcome?

‘Choose your most comfortable position.’ I said to her without smiling. This wasn’t one of my better days for public relations and I had yet to figure out why. No doubt a lack of sex in my life had some small thing to do with it. The chair had three positions; sitting up, half reclining and almost lying fully down, with a support for beneath their calves. She tried them all and chose the third position, like they all do.

‘You might feel more comfortable with your shoes off and your belt loosened.’ I suggested. She glanced quickly at me.

‘Your choice,’ I shrugged at her. ‘I don’t care one way or the other.’ I sat down. My abruptness seemed to have quelled any fears she might have had. She took off her shoes and loosened her belt. Then she settled back and rolled her hips a few times, getting good and comfortable.

‘I won’t lose control, will I?’ She asked quietly, a hint of concern in her voice.

‘Do you want to?’ I asked matter-of-factly.

‘Well...er...no. I don’t.’

‘Then you won’t. Simple as that.’ I said. That shut her up, at least for the time being.

I led her down through a simple relaxation induction to a point where I figured she was deep enough for me to test her trance depth-can’t forget the basics.

‘You are now...so deeply in trance.’ I said in my slow hypnotic way of speaking. ‘That everything I tell you to feel... you will feel... and everything I tell you to experience... you will experience… as your unconscious mind opens fully and works the way it does best... like an umbrella... when it’s fully open... and in that way you will find that you can do nothing, but express yourself in the most truthful manner you can imagine-leaving nothing out… no matter how painful or embarrassing. Do you understand, that you will be able to do that, whether you like it or not, because you are so deeply hypnotised?’

‘Yes.’ She said slowly with a nod of her head as well.

‘And do you feel deeply hypnotised?’ I prepared her. ‘Such that you will have no resistance to your own unconscious mind should it want to tell me the absolute truth of your problems, even if your conscious mind may be a little hesitant?’

‘Yes.’ She answered with only a nod of her head.

‘What then is your real problem?’ I tested-nothing like a bit of cold steel between the third and fourth rib to get quickly to the truth.

‘I... I don’t have one.’ She stammered in saying.

My eyebrows shot up. What the hell was she playing at? My impatience started to wear thin, very quickly. I don’t suffer being made a fool of too easily.

‘Then why are you here?’ I said evenly through my teeth.

No answer.

‘You know you have to tell me the truth.’ I told her. ‘For someone as deeply hypnotised as you are it is virtually impossible to resist being absolutely truthful about anything I ask you. Isn’t that true?

‘Yes.’ She said and nodded her head.

I shook my own head. What the hell was going on here? I believed she was in trance, although not as deeply as I suggested to her that she was.

‘Why are you here?’ I repeated.

I was just about to repeat it again after waiting for almost a minute when I realised she was having some kind of internal battle between conscience and unconscious-not conscious-conscience.

‘It’s okay.’ I soothed her. ‘You’re doing perfectly. Relax and go deeper. Can you do that?’

A nod of her head. I counted her down from ten, deepening her with each downward count. By the time I reached zero she seemed even more relaxed in the face and body than she had been previously. Time to try again.

‘At this very deep level of trance, your vocal chords will not work for you. They will work only for your unconscious mind.’ I suggested. ‘Just like the subjects you’ve seen in the past in stage hypnosis shows. And have you ever seen one of them not do exactly and precisely what they were told?’

A shaking of the head.

‘That’s right. That’s because they couldn’t, even if they wanted to, because they were so deeply hypnotised... like you are right now. Do you understand?’

A nod of the head.

‘Good. That’s fine. You’re doing perfectly. Now… why are you here?’ I repeated the earlier unanswered question.

‘To give you a message... if you’re good enough to get it.’ She answered like a robot.

‘What?’ I said aloud without thinking first.

She repeated her previous statement word for word like a robot. I just sat there, dumbfounded. What the hell was going on here?

‘Please explain yourself!’ I told her, my impatience sounding in my voice. I didn’t care.

‘I have been hypnotised on a very deep level.’ She said easily, as if she were awake.

Jesus! Why did I get all the fruit loops?

‘I am a somnambule.’ She said clearly. ‘I have been told that when you hypnotise me, I am to give you that message. I have another one, but only if you can hypnotise me deeply enough.’

‘How deeply do you have to go to give the second message?’ I asked.

‘Much deeper.’ She replied.

Stuff her.

‘Then go now as deeply as you have to, in order to give me the message. I’ll wait until you are there, and when you are, you can nod your head. Do you understand clearly?’

‘Yes.’ She answered, and then took a deep breath while I waited for several minutes.

Then her head nodded.

‘Go ahead with your second message then.’ I told her.

‘Please call 67533581… immediately.’ She said very clearly.

‘What?’ I fumed.

‘Please call 67533581… immediately.’ She repeated like a robot again.

My head was starting to ache. I didn’t need this rubbish, although I had to admit to a little bit of annoying curiosity. Apart from that I wasn’t thinking too far ahead. This was too weird, even for me. I picked up the phone and dialled the number. A woman’s voice answered sounding like liquid velvet. I didn’t like the instant effect it seemed to have on my person.

‘Do you like my mule, Mister Wallace?’ The woman asked.

That was it. All professional respect and good manners were out of the window.

‘What the hell is going on?’ I blew up. ‘You some kind of bloody weirdo?’

‘Settle down, Mister Wallace.’ Velvet-voice said quietly. ‘I just wanted to prove myself to you so you’d know you weren’t talking to someone who didn’t know what they were doing.’

I wasn’t any wiser.

‘Thirty seconds. And then you get the dial-tone for your trouble!’ I spat at her, velvet voice and all. Who gives a damn?

‘She’ll kill you, if I tell her to, Mister Wallace.’ Velvet-voice said quietly, with just a hint of impatience.

I stared at the tranced woman. Then, before I could have my next thought a high-pitched whine sounded through the earpiece. I had to hold it away from my ear it was that loud. At the same time the woman who had been dead to the world on my chair leapt up like a bloody Olympic acrobat and whipped out a pistol with a long silencer fitted to the barrel. I don’t know where she’d had it- must have been on her person somewhere. I don’t usually make it a habit of frisking my patients-not expecting them to be carrying weapons. But this one was and she was levelling the menacing-looking thing directly at my face. Her eyes were cold, like the barrel of the gun most probably was. I listened carefully as I brought the phone more tightly against my ear.