The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Tonight on MCN, it’s Tuesday’s new sensation, ‘The Secret Cases of Sigmund Freud.’ In tonight’s episode, our dear Dr. Freud travels to Paris for a mission that gets him involved with a seductive young beauty. But what happens when the seductress ends up getting seduced? Find out tonight!”

“Dr. Sigmund Freud. He’s known for a lot of thing. The father of modern psychiatry. The man responsible for major breakthroughs in the fields of mental care. But what no one knew was that the good Doctor Sigmund Freud was a special agent for the English government. Now, for the first time, learn the cases of Dr. Freud that he couldn’t put down for posterity. The cases that show his influence much greater than anyone could have imagined.” Paris. 1898.

Dr. Sigmund Freud wound his pocket watch one more time, making sure it was on time. He’d had to make sure it was running better a bit more lately, no doubt due to the watch’s age. He supposed he should get a new one but he was rather attached to this, an old family heirloom that he couldn’t put away, no matter what. One that had kept time with him for several years.

He sat back in his seat, sipping at the coffee. He was at an outdoor café near the Seine, the sun streaming down about the café, a perfect spring morning in Paris. He brushed at his hair and gave a light tug to his beard, still a bit upset at the gray that was starting to slink into it. He gazed over at the large tower in the distance and shuddered. What a monstrosity. Like anyone would ever equate that with Paris. He gave it five years before the city came to its senses and tore it down.

He absently flipped through the folders on his table. He honestly didn’t know why he kept taking on these idiotic jobs for the British. The time he needed funds for his education was long past and he was getting far too old for these cloak and dagger games. Why couldn’t he just go back to his research, actually do what he had come to Paris to do instead of act as a go-between for agents abroad. Well, it could be worse. He could have been asked to infiltrate some foolish operation or another, something he had no wish to do again.

Sigmund was realizing that the espionage business, so enticing in his youth, was losing its luster. While the various female encounters he’d enjoyed were nice, the experience with various figures of the criminal element had helped out his studies. He was becoming more of an academic now, but rather welcomed it. He could do more promoting his theories than aiding a country he didn’t owe a thing to anymore.

Sigmund’s musings were interrupted when someone suddenly jostled him from behind, causing him to spill his drink on himself. “Oh, my pardon, monsieur,” a soft female voice said. Sigmund looked up to see a young beauty staring back at him. She appeared to be about twenty, perhaps older, exceptionally beautiful with long dark hair and an engaging smile. “My apologies,” the girl said. “I was looking for someone and I didn’t see you.”

“No harm done,” Sigmund replied.

“I think your pants would disagree,” the girl said, nodding to spots of coffee covering Sigmund’s trousers. Sighing, Sigmund patted at them with his napkin, trying to get them out.

“I feel terrible about that,” the girl said. “My name is Margaretha, by the way. Can I help you?”

“How so?” Sigmund frowned.

“My flat is not that far away,” Margaretha explained. “I can help you clean up right there. You can come right back then.”

Sigmund shrugged, not seeing any other options, his vanity coming to play. His contact wasn’t due for a while yet. Why not clean up? He gathered together his papers and moved off, following the young woman as she led him away. “So, you live alone?” he asked.

“Yes,” Margaretha said. “It’s not a bad place, really. It suits me.”

“Just what do you do?” Sigmund asked.

“I’m a dancer,” Margarteha said.

“Ballet?”

“Not exactly.”

The small talk went on like this for the next few minutes as Margaretha led Sigmund to her flat. It wasn’t spacious by any means, a small bed and dresser the only real furniture, even though they were both nice. Sigmund could tell Margaretha enjoyed some fine things, judging by the jewelry on her dresser and the niceness of some of the dresses.

“I suppose we’d better get started,” Margaretha said, turning towards Sigmund. She took him in and gave a tiny smile. “I suppose we’d better get your pants off.”

Several years of meeting the worst humanity had to offer, combined with more years of psychological analysis had given Sigmund Freud the ability to judge a person and all that training was telling him that Margaretha was up to something. The bump in the café had been far from an accident and the look on her face was telling him she was after more than just a brief meeting. Much more. Freud came to a decision, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his gold watch.

“I suppose I’d better get this out first,” he said in his accented voice. “It’s an old family heirloom of mine, one that’s served me well. I think you can understand why if you look at it.” He held the watch up by its chain, just above Margaretha’s eyes so she had to look up slightly to see it. “Just look at it,” Freud repeated as he gave the watch a tug, allowing it to swing lightly from side to side before her vision. “Just look at it, Margaretha, just look right at the watch, just look at the watch, Margaretha. Watch the watch, Margaretha, watch the watch, watch it swing, back and forth, back and forth, just watch it swing back and forth, Margaretha, watch it swing back and forth, back and forth. Just watch it swing, Margaretha, just watch it swing back and forth, back and forth, Margaretha, watch it swing back and forth.......”

Margaretha looked up at the watch, watching it swing before her vision, the way it caught the light and flashed it into her eyes with each swing. She felt her mind buzz a bit, a soothing relaxation coming over it as she continued to look up at the swinging watch before her. “You are feeling sleepy, Margaretha,” Sigmund said in the same soft voice he had used on dozens of people in the past. “You’re feeling very sleepy, so very sleepy, Margaretha, so very sleepy. As you watch the watch swing, back and forth, back and forth, you’re feeling more and more sleepy, Margaretha, more and more sleepy, Margaretha, more and more sleepy. You want to go to sleep, Margaretha, you want to close your eyes and go to sleep, go to sleep, Margaretha, close your eyes and go to sleep. Sleep. Sleep.”

Margaretha’s eyes fluttered shut and her head slumped forward as she fell into a trance. Putting the watch away, Sigmund looked over the young beauty and spoke. “Margaretha, you are now asleep but you can hear my voice and you will answer all my questions honestly. Now, Margaretha, did you bump into me on purpose?”

“Yes.....” Margaretha whispered.

“Why did you do that, Margaretha?”

“My assignment.....”

“Assignment?”

“I work for.....members of French intelligence. They want....what you’re bringing....to superiors.”

Freud nodded, already having figured as much. So, the French wanted to play, did they? Fine, he’d play too. “Margaretha, were you willing to sleep with me to get these papers?”

“Yes....” she said.

“Then I will let you do so,” Freud said, undoing his shirt. “Take off all your clothes, Margaretha.” The Frenchwoman obeyed, slipping off her nice dress and exposing her nice body with firm breasts and behind to Sigmund, who was revealing a body that, frankly wasn’t as nice as it once was but Margaretha was hardly in the position to complain about it. “Show me what you planned to do,” Freud said and Margaretha obeyed, moving in and embracing Sigmund, pulling him down onto the bed as she kissed him hard on the mouth, her lips moving over his rough beard. She pushed Freud down onto the bed and mounted him, sliding her pussy around his erect cock and began to instantly work herself on it, moving back and forth and letting it go into her. She brought Sigmund’s hands up to her breasts, letting him cup them as she worked herself on him. Sigmund grunted as he pushed his pelvis into her pussy with passion, driving his rod harder and harder into her. Margaretha moaned as she rocked back and forth on top of the psychiatrist, letting him got at her. He was impressed by just how good she was, truly putting in a lot of energy even as she was under a trance. His thoughts were cut off as he came, blasting her with his wad and causing her to shriek in pleasure as he came in her.

Sigmund was used to women collapsing on him after he let go and was thus surprised when Margaretha pulled herself off him and moved down, her mouth taking his cock and beginning to suck on it, her tongue tickling the tip of his penis as she sucked him off with a glee that indicated she had done this quite often and loved it every time. Sigmund just sat back and let her do it, loving the feeling as she licked him off, her tongue running down the shaft as she tried to take him inside her mouth completely. Sigmund wasn’t really that endowed, but it hardly mattered under her expert tongue as he was hard and letting loose inside her mouth, cum flicking over her lips as he did.

Margaretha sat on her bed, naked, her eyes staring blankly at the swinging watch. “Margaretha, you will remember none of this,” Sigmund said. “None at all. You will not remember seeing me or being with me. You will believe I was not at the café and you could not complete your assignment. Now, sleep.” Margaretha’s eyes drifted shut and she fell back on the bed, entering a deep sleep. Sigmund took one last look at her, then walked out.

It was an interesting afternoon, Sigmund had to admit that. While the trousers were a loss, he had gotten some nice benefits in another way. A shame about Margaretha. She liked this espionage business but he didn’t think she would be that good at it. Sure, she was incredible in bed but he doubted she could get close enough to use a gift like that.

After all, who’d accept a woman who used a ridiculous stage name like Mata Hari?