The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

My intercom buzzed.

‘Yes.’ I answered, closing the file on Angela Simms after having documented everything and printed it out for my evening report to Derek and the others.

‘ I’m taking my lunch break. Care to join me if you’re free.’

‘That sounds fine.’ I replied, smiling. ’ I could use a bite.’

‘Meet me in main reception. I know a nice quiet cafe not far from her, within walking distance.’ Tina said.

We sat opposite one another in the open-air cafe not far from the office. Tina looked beautiful. The way the rays of sunshine seemed to make her red hair even more flaming in appearance was amazing. I couldn’t stop looking at it: the way it curled around her neck and shoulders, long and soft and lush in its full-bodied thickness.

I’d told her about Angela Simms and her session, including the techniques I had used, just in case she was interested. She was, smiling a smile that seemed to me to contain just a hint of awe for my expertise as I described it in detail. We both munched on our sandwiches as we talked. I felt very comfortable in her company, as she seemed to be in mine.

‘How often can I call my patients back in?’ I asked with a mouth half-full of bread and meat. Then I apologised for my lack of table manners.

She laughed. ‘Depends on their own schedule.’ She answered. ’ The project would like us to work as often as we can, of course, but it all depends on their own personal situation.’ She paused; seeming not quite finished with what she was saying. ’ I don’t know if I would have picked up that Angela liked girls. I mean, as being her problem about sleeping.’

I grinned. ‘You would have picked it up eventually.’ I told her. ‘Even her own therapist would have cottoned on to it after a few more sessions. Something she would have said would have made him twig to what the true nature of her sleeping problem was.’

‘ I’m impressed.’ She grinned back at me as she bit into her sandwich.

‘Don’t be.’ I told her genuinely. ’ It’s all about experience-always a learning curve, and, I always seem to be learning.’

‘Aren’t we all.’ She stated before taking a sip of her coffee.

We ate in silence then for a while. I wondered about how Tina felt as she sat there opposite me in the little cafe. Then I remembered. I needn’t have bothered thinking it. I should have just asked her. I had anyway-mentally. She grinned at me.

‘Nice.’ Was all she said to my unasked question, giving me a soft smile.

I shook my head slowly, grinning, and wondering if I really wanted to learn how to read minds and knowing that if it was light, I would forgive her every time now.

‘You will.’ She said. ’ It has too many benefits and advantages.’

I decided then to keep my thoughts on business. That way she couldn’t read them.

‘Ha!’ She said suddenly.

‘Jesus!’ I breathed through clenched teeth in mock anger. ‘Can’t I keep any secrets?’

Her belly laugh rang throughout the small cafe. I laughed with her.

‘You can, actually.’ She said, after she’d quieted down. ’ It’s easy when you know how-just put up a screen of your own making and design.’

‘Good!’ I said, finishing my coffee. ‘When can you teach me? This has got to stop.’

‘How about Wednesday night?’ She answered smiling. ’ I’m free then.’

I wondered what she was doing on Monday and Tuesday night that she wouldn’t be free, or any other night for that matter.

‘That will be fine.’ I said, noticing her smile turn soft as she finished her coffee.

‘Where?’

‘Your place.’ She grinned. ‘But it will take most of the night, so we’d better get a early start-around six would be good.’

‘Okay. Six it is. Then I can put a stop to your little mind games.’

I noticed her features suddenly take on a slightly serious nature.

‘I don’t play games, Peter, when it comes to matters of the mind.’ She said quietly.

I wondered about matters of the heart, then instantly saw her soft smile return as she reached for her purse, signalling our little luncheon talk had been concluded.

‘By the way,’ She said as we stood up together. ‘During Derek’s demonstration this afternoon, watch the way his patient responds to the direct approach, compared to the permissive.’

We walked from the cafe and back toward the office. We were told at the morning meeting that Derek had documented a direct method technique of control that had repeatable and demonstrable results. The demonstration was for the benefit and experience of everyone. I had to admit I liked the idea of sharing discoveries. It was good for everyone.

About a dozen of us sat in the chairs provided in the viewing room. When I mentioned that I thought more would attend the demonstration Tina told me that most of them had seen it before, including her. She told me she was only there for my benefit, to point things out to me as Derek went through the various phases and levels of trance and observable results. She went on to tell me I’d be surprised, most probably. I was glad I was sitting in the front row, although each row of chairs were about a foot up in height from the row in front, so everybody had a good view.

I turned my gaze back to Derek in the room on the other side of the looking glass. His patient was a man in his late thirties, casually dressed, sitting slightly reclined in a large therapy chair. His eyes were open, but he seemed very relaxed. Derek sat by his side, about three feet away from him. I had no idea of the nature of the demonstration, apart from that which Tina had already told me.

‘ Here we go.’ Tina said quietly.

‘John! ... Sleep!’ Derek commanded, and commanded he did, like an officer giving an order.

I looked sideways at Tina for her reaction, and saw her just smiling at me, signalling me to watch the front. I returned my astonished gaze to Derek and his patient. The man now sat limp and loose, with his eyes closed, and his head slightly forward toward his chest. We could hear Derek’s voice as if he were in the room with us, rather than the other way round. There were speakers on both corners of the viewing room through which Derek’s voice came through loud and clear.

Derek sat on his chair facing the viewing room. His patient also faced us so we could see everything. I glanced down at the copy of the man’s file Tina had given me as we had walked into the viewing room. Then I noticed something. The man’s name was Richard-not John. I read on quickly. Derek had used the other name the man had responded to so easily and quickly, as a trance key. I looked back to Derek and his relaxed patient, wondering why I’d never thought of that. I’d always used numbers-specifically, the number seven, to keep things simple and always be able to remember it. Sometimes my memory had an off day.

‘Name! Rank! And serial number!’ Derek’s booming commanded.

‘Sloan! John! Private! 123372!’ Came his patient’s snappy reply, just like they did in the armed forces.

‘What is your duty, Private!’ Derek asked, although it sounded more like a statement than a question.

‘To protect and serve, Sir! In any way my orders tell me! Sir!’ The man snapped militarily back to him.

‘At what cost do you protect and serve, Private!’ Derek stated as another facsimile of a question.

‘To give my life in the protection of others in my duty! Sir!’ The man barked, eyes still closed, body still looking very relaxed and calm, in spite of the tense way he answered Derek’s questions.

‘Who is the enemy, Private!’ Derek snapped at him.

‘Anybody is the enemy! Sir! Whoever my orders tell me is the enemy! Sir!’

Then Derek glanced up at the viewing mirror, and, for a few seconds I could have sworn he was staring directly into my eyes. Then his gaze lowered.

‘What if the enemy is your own family. Private!’ Derek’s voice boomed.

‘ Then they are the enemy! Sir!’ The man answered.

‘ If they were they enemy, Private! What final solution for everyone’s benefit might need to be done?’

‘Complete elimination! Sir!’ Came the reply.

‘Who denotes an enemy, Private!’ Derek stated.

‘Anybody who interferes with the rights of others! Sir! As decreed by my standing orders! Sir!’ The man answered.

Derek looked up into the viewing mirror again, and again I believed he seemed to be looking right into my eyes.

‘John! Sleep!’ Derek said next.

‘Sleep! Sir!’ Was the instant reply.

As I watched him closely, the man then seemed to visibly relax a little more, although I couldn’t remember him not looking relaxed throughout the entire demonstration so far, even though it had sounded like a drill parade exercise. Then Derek stood up and stretched, winked at us through the viewing mirror, then turned toward his desk and walked over to it.

‘That’s it.’ Tina said, drawing my attention away from Derek and back to the viewing room.

Actually, I hadn’t been in that room for the past several minutes. I had been contemplating the nature and the results of Derek’s experiment. I didn’t really know whether I was shocked at such a demonstration of mind control, or simply impressed. Like most therapists I had always been taught that a person could not fully be controlled, if it meant asking them to do something, which would clash with their own known ethics, morals, or personal values. It seemed I was wrong. My own ethics of the past twenty odd years had always prevented me from experimenting fully in that area. But to say I had never been intrigued by the concept would be to lie to myself, and, I had always had a problem in doing that.

‘What did you think.’ Tina asked from across my desk, after we had walked back from the viewing room.

I shrugged. ‘What’s to think?’ I answered her. ’ It definitely seems to work, in spite of my own former beliefs regarding total control, and direct control techniques.’

‘Yes, it does.’ Tina said simply.

I glanced at my watch. It was ten past four.

‘Got a date?’ Tina asked smiling.

I grinned. ‘Don’t I wish.’

She grinned too. ‘Why don’t you?’

‘What?’ I asked, my mind still on Derek and his amazing demonstration.

‘Wish.’ She said, as if talking to a slow, backward child.

I twigged. Shaking my head, slowly I grinned, too.

‘ I wonder about the practical application and its connotations.’ I said, half to myself and half to her.

Tina’s face and features suddenly took more a serious demeanour as her eyes focused on mine.

‘You don’t honestly think it has its uses?’ She asked quietly, then added; ’ If it were deemed necessary?’

I held her gaze in mine.

‘Who would do the deeming?’ I said flatly.

She lowered her gaze and stared at the desk for a few seconds before looking up again.

‘People in authority, I suppose.’ She replied. ‘Who consider that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.’

There was something in the way she said that as she held my eyes steadily in hers that caused me to feel a little uneasy. Maybe it was the way she hadn’t blinked when she’d said it. Maybe it was the way her eyes deepened as she was saying it. I don’t know. But I did know I felt uneasy all of a sudden. And, I didn’t like feeling uneasy.

‘Oh, Peter! Come on!’ Tina suddenly laughed, her face lighting up beautifully. ‘Don’t go all paranoid on me. It was only a demonstration! That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? To go where no man, or woman, has ever gone before? Just like Star Trek?’

I laughed. Maybe she was right. Jesus! This was nineteen ninety-seven-almost the twenty-first century, not the dark ages of the cold war paranoia.

‘Sorry.’ I apologised, then glanced at my watch. ‘Time I was going anyway. I’ve got my research notes to make on the day’s work and observations. I like to finish up my day at home, after the meetings, out of the office surroundings. I can think more clearly.’

Tina’s smile faded. ‘Okay.’ She said as she stood to leave. ‘Sure. Well, if you want to talk about anything, I’ll be home. Just give me a ring.’

‘Okay. Thanks.’ I replied, wondering why she made our date for my learning the mind thing on Wednesday night, if she wasn’t doing anything that evening. I heard the door closed, then began making my notes on the day’s events-my own, as well as Derek’s demonstration.

My summaries of the day’s events took me a little longer than I thought. When I’d finished I opened Angela’s file and punched her number into the telephone, my pulse rising a little as I waited for her to answer, wondering if I’d left it too late to call.

‘Hello? Angela speaking?’ She said into my ear.

‘Seven!’ I said emphatically.

‘What?’ She asked. My pulse raced.

‘Seven!’ I said in a quieter tone of voice.

‘Wha ... ooh.’ Her voice trailed off.

‘ Angela. This is Doctor Wallace. You will ... sleep like a baby tonight ... and you will awaken refreshed in the morning ... and you will want to see me ... to thank me ...and call and make an appointment for nine-thirty. Do you understand?’

‘Yees.’ She answered dreamily.

‘Angela. You will forget this call ... when I snap my fingers you hang up ... it was only a wrong number ... do you understand?’

‘Yes.’ She answered softly.

I snapped my fingers as loudly as I could into the mouthpiece of the telephone and waited for her to wake up, and then hang up.

‘Hello?’ She asked, sounding normal in tone. ’ Hello? Damn! Wrong bloody numbers!’ Then she hung up.

I grinned. Everything I had done seemed to be working fine. I couldn’t wait for her to arrive the next day.

Then I glanced at my watch. Time to get on with it. Lots to do yet. The meeting with all of the therapists, of which I was now a team member: to listen to their day’s work and results and to tell them of mine.

The meeting went rather quickly, each therapist talking quite quickly in summary fashion. I was scheduled to talk last, and, when I did, I sounded like they did. I noticed I had their full attention as I spoke, especially Derek’s. Tina had not talked, but had just sat and listened, taking notes occasionally, as they all seemed to do. Then it was over.

Exactly one hour had passed since I had entered the long boardroom. Tina had caught my eye occasionally and smiled. Apart from that we didn’t speak. I did notice she sat on Derek’s left. I also noticed the lonely-looking empty chair at the head of the long meeting table. I made a mental note to ask Tina later who usually sat in it. Perhaps I was yet to meet the real boss of the whole show?

After I had answered a few questions from two of the other therapists Derek called the meeting closed and we all got up and left the room. I returned to my office and grabbed my briefcase, then made my way down to the elevator with some of the others who were also leaving.

As I stood with them waiting for the elevator to arrive, one of them, a therapist who had asked me some of the questions in the meeting came over to me smiling.

‘How serious are you about your work in the area you’ve chosen?’ He asked politely.

He was a man in his early forties. I liked the look of him-the cut of his jib and all that. His name was Andrew Sawyer. I remembered, which was strange for me. I had a shocking memory for names in the short-term, but his name reminded me of Tom sawyer and Uncle Tom’s cabin-an old boyhood story I always liked to read about whenever I had the chance.

‘I’ve always had a very strong interest in that area.’ I replied.

‘Interesting.’ Was all he said as he held my gaze in his own.

Then the elevator arrived and we stepped inside. There was no sign of Derek or Tina. I wondered why I expected there to be. Tina had told me we could all work as late as we could liked-all night long if we wanted to, although Tina had told me she wasn’t all that committed to her present project. I shook my head slowly as the elevator silently agreed with gravity and deposited us all on the ground floor of the building I now called home during the day.

‘See you tomorrow, Pete.’ Andrew Sawyer said as he stepped through the doors with the others and walked off toward the main door. None of the others had said anything, just smiled as I passed them going the same way. I smiled at the man and his farewell. I’d always had a funny thing about having my name shortened. Out of the mouth of most people it sounded all wrong, and unnatural, also too familiar. But, like some others in my life, Andrew Sawyer’s way of saying it sounded right. I smiled, amazed by such a little thing that had always puzzled me. Why did my shortened name sound so wrong with most people, yet so right with only a few others? One of life’s minor mysteries, I decided, as I walked out into the afternoon breeze. If I wanted mysteries to solve there were plenty more about that were much more interesting than my own shortened name.

I drove straight to my apartment building, went up and changed into shorts and a light cotton shirt that had a button missing I’d always been intending to sew back on when I got around to it. But that never seemed to happen. Then I walked along the beach as I had become accustomed to doing each day. My thoughts kept returning to Derek’s demonstration, my conversation with Tina in the cafe and, for some strange reason, Andrew Sawyer’s face and expression as he had asked me if I was serious about my chosen project.

Tina’s phrase she used at the end of our conversation also kept going around in my mind; ‘the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.’ It was the way she’d said it, or, more correctly, the way she had looked as she’d said it, as well as the phrase itself. I knew where I’d heard it before. It was a phrase used by Doctor Spock from Star Trek, the famous television show. But why had she used it?

I sighed and kicked the sand beneath the water’s surface as I walked slowly along. Another of life’s little mysteries for me to ponder over. Every time I looked up from the swirling, white frothy waters around my feet and ankles I expected to see Tina’s smiling face, but, I didn’t see her. Then my thoughts turned to her and Derek. I wondered if he and Tina had a thing going, or had, had a thing going in the past, before I came along.

I looked up and was back at the beginning of my walk. I turned and looked back the way I had come, shaking my head in amazement as I often did. I must have tranced down with my thoughts as I’d walked. Time distortion! It only seemed like I had been walking for a few minutes, but I knew it took me at least forty-five to cover the distance, at the slow pace I dawdled along at, anyway.

I smiled and headed up to my apartment and a nice, hot shower to wash away the salt from the ocean’s spray, as well as the few unsettling thoughts that were still going around in my mind, unanswered as yet.

After dinner that evening I prepared the format induction to take Angela and myself down through the first stage of Cerebral Trance. It took me just over an hour to think it through, but I was happy with the result. It would happen as I inducted each of us down, with one part of my own mind keeping watch on the proceedings, up to a point, while Angela just kept listening and going deeper all the time. The concept was to get myself just as deep as she was when that part of my subconscious mind took over the session. After that, if my belief was correct I would be able to control the session on a subconscious level with Angela while my conscious mind was tranced out somewhere else and just observing.

That was the plan, anyway. And it was a good one. The script I had written and just finished should do the job on both of us. Angela would have no problem. It was me who would have to be very relaxed in my focused concentration in order for me to be able to join and meet with her on a subconscious level, if it could be done. I had to admit, as I ran slowly through the script for the third time. I was fairly excited about the idea.

I put the script in my briefcase and locked it-an old habit I couldn’t seem to break. Then I relaxed on the deck for a half an hour or so, watching the prawning boats far out to sea, visible and identifiable by their arrangement of lights on their trawling net booms. So peaceful, I thought, as my eyes relaxed, focusing on the far distant lights of the boats.

I rolled into bed just before eleven o’clock, dead tired, but relaxed and peaceful. The only thoughts on my mind before the sandman took me away was the phrase Tina had spoken at the cafe. For some reason I had a not-too-good, uneasy feeling whenever I thought about it in relation to hypnosis and what I had witnessed during Derek’s demonstration. What the hell, was the last thing I consciously remember thinking before fading away for the last time that night. As the Japanese would say: Shigata ga nai.—What shall be-will be.