The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Randy Turner was very surprised. In twenty-three years as a private investigator, this was a first. One of the most common types of cases that he took was that of tracking missing persons after the police had exhausted all of their leads. Often he was hired by a wife to find a spouse when there was no evidence of foul play or criminal activity and the detectives had moved on to cases with a greater chance of being solved.

He knew his job well, and the first steps always involved reconstructing the last known sightings of the missing person by interviewing co-workers, friends and family members. From those separate sets of facts, Randy would work forward in time until there was no more accounting for the person’s location. Then, based on their habits, favorite hangouts and personal interests, he would start exploring logical possibilities for the person’s next steps.

But never had Randy followed leads from two separate cases that converged paths. The likelihood of him being hired to find two missing people who had either come together themselves or met a common third person was so remote that he was shocked. And yet, the evidence was before him and was quite clear.

The ex-wife of Steve Wilson had hired Randy to find her ex-husband for one of the most common reasons known; money. Steve was quite wealthy, and had agreed to a very generous divorce settlement that had provided a very comfortable lifestyle for Carly Wilson. However, the automatic monthly drafting from his account had stopped when his bank was bought out by a large bank holding company from New York. Some sort of paperwork glitch during the changeover caused the drafting to stop. The bank acknowledged their error, but needed for Steve to sign a new form to re-activate the monthly payout. When Carly couldn’t find him and the police gave up, she hired Randy. This should have been pretty straightforward. Steve Wilson had never contested the divorce and had readily consented to the bank drafting, so it should be a slam dunk; just find the wealthy jet-setter, get him to sign the bank authorization form and collect his fee.

But, Steve Wilson seemed to have vanished into thin air. Randy could usually track someone because even after going into hiding, they often foolishly keep using their credit cards or their cell phone or leave some sort of trail that points to them like a neon sign. Steve Wilson was doing none of those things. Either he had been killed or he truly had adopted a new identity. The last financial transaction that Randy could locate was the purchase of an airline ticket. He was even able to verify that Steve had boarded the flight and retrieved his luggage afterwards. Steve certainly made no effort to conceal his travel, as everything was booked in his own name. Then, at the airport, the trail stopped cold. No rental car records, taxicab trips, no hotels, meals, cash advances or anything.

At the same time that Randy was working the Wilson case, he was also pursuing a man named Bobby Harris. Talk about opposites; Steve Wilson was rich, powerful and successful and was generous with his money, but Bobby Harris was a low-level, fairly under-qualified marketing employee who had bounced from job to job. Bobby seemed to have had a very hard time keeping a steady job and more than once had been hounded by debt collectors. Now, the bank that carried Bobby’s home loan and the note on his car had hired Randy to find him. Bobby had stopped making payments, registered letters were returned without being signed for, the house was locked up tight and the car was nowhere to be found. The bank hoped to avoid lengthy court proceedings to foreclose and preferred to work out payment options with him, but Bobby had just vanished. In this case, though, the signs were opposite of those of Steve Wilson; it looked like Bobby was running away from his bills.

Randy had run into similar dead ends in the Wilson case and was wondering where to turn next when he went through his list of fellow employees one more time to see if he had interviewed everyone. Apparently, there was a guy who had worked with Bobby in the marketing department at his company, but had been terminated before Randy began his investigation. When he found that fellow and talked to him, Randy got his first big break.

It seemed that Bobby was having some kind of problems adjusting after his department relocated to a new facility. The co-worker remembered Bobby being called on the carpet by their boss and being scared he was going to be let go. But, he came back from that meeting saying something about being offered an alternative of seeking counseling first. This fellow happened to recall the therapist that Bobby was referred to because her last name was the same as the first name of one of his former girlfriends: Dominique. In this case, a Doctor Samantha Dominique.

This is where it got weird. Something clicked in Randy’s head at the mention of that name and he wracked his brain for two days trying to figure out why. It suddenly hit him and he went to the Wilson file to look for the passenger manifest from the last flight that Steve was on. Bingo! There it was, and it hit him right between the eyes. Not only was Samantha Dominique on the same flight, she was sitting right next to Steve in first class. This either had to be the biggest coincidence in the world, or he had stumbled onto a common denominator in both men’s disappearances.

Now, Randy had a third person to investigate. Who was this Doctor and what possible role did she play in these mysteries? What he found was disappointingly ordinary. Normal childhood. Good grades in high school. A fine academic history in college that led to a Doctorate in Psychology. A well-respected practice with some other doctors before starting her own private clinic several years ago to treat individuals and corporate clients. Randy was able to determine that Bobby had indeed had one appointment with Dr. Dominique, and that he kept it. Then, just like Steve Wilson, the trail stopped.

He considered his options. He could go try to interview Dr. Dominique, but if she were somehow involved in something criminal, she would have surely already prepared an explanation just in case someone came snooping around. He could try to find other patients of hers and then try to interview them, but if he could find them, then they wouldn’t be missing and probably would not know about anything sinister going on. Randy finally decided that his best approach would be to get an appointment as a patient. That should get him in to see the Doctor while her guard was down. If he worked things just right, he might be able to create some kind of diversion that would give him a chance to sneak a peek at her files. The more he considered this plan, the more convinced he became that it would work.

So, Tuesday morning found Randy filling out the paperwork as a new patient in the waiting room of a very plush and expensively decorated clinic. It had been difficult to get in, as his first appointment was cancelled due to an illness in the Doctor’s family, and they had to reschedule him a week later. Of course, Randy had no way of knowing that this was standard procedure for any new, unsolicited patients that tried to get in to see Dr. Dominique. She used her own private investigator to check out someone who had not been referred from a trusted source, just to be safe. As he sat and waited to be seen, a well-rehearsed plan was already in progress to protect the Doctor from people who had ulterior motives in seeing her.

“Mr. Turner?”

The nurse’s voice surprised him. Had he been partially dozing? Randy was always more alert when he was on a case and the second cup of coffee this morning should have given him just enough of a buzz to stay sharp. But, as he got up and glanced at his watch, an hour had gone by since he sat down. An hour? How was that possible? The form had only taken ten minutes to complete, and then he spent a few minutes drinking the coffee that the receptionist offered and then he sat for what seemed like a short time listening to that intensely boring canned music playing in the waiting room. He just hated that kind of music and hoped he could get on with this appointment so he could get out of earshot from it in this waiting room.

“Mr. Turner?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, I’m coming”

“Thank you. This way please, just follow me” She led him down a short hallway and into an office.

This was an office that spoke volumes to Randy. Classy. Expensive furniture. Rows of books. Big desk. Everything looked very legitimate for a successful Doctor. Or, very much a cover-up for a shady Doctor. All of his training told him to keep an open mind but remain skeptical. None of his training prepared him for the incredible beauty of the woman who entered from a side door and was walking toward him with her right hand extended.

“You must be Randy Turner. I’m Doctor Dominique, Randy, and it’s so nice to meet you.”

Not accustomed to being off-balance like this, Randy stuttered like a school kid trying to make his first date with a girl. What was it about this woman? She had gorgeous black hair that framed a beautiful face that was dominated by two of the deepest and most riveting blue eyes he had ever seen. Forget that her figure could have inspired the Greek goddesses; this had to be literally the most beautiful woman that Randy had ever seen. It took him a moment to notice that she was standing there apparently expecting a response to some question that Randy had never heard.

“I said, won’t you please have a seat?”

Randy tried to recover quickly but the words tumbled clumsily out of his mouth, “Ummm, what? Ohhh, where, here?” as he sat down in a thickly cushioned leather chair.

Suppressing a small grin, Doctor Dominique took a seat behind her desk and leaned forward. “So, I see that you are here because of a fear of flying that you can’t seem to kick, is that right, Randy?”

“Yes, I’ve tried everything, but I’m just terrified to get on a plane. I tell myself that nothing bad is going to happen. I read where people say that statistically its the safest way to travel. I know people who get on planes and just doze off to sleep before the plane even leaves the gate, but I could never relax that way. The last time I was on a plane, I nearly hyperventilated and could not look out the windows at all. I had two quick drinks and still squeezed the armrests the whole way. Then, someone suggested that there were therapies that helped people like me get over our fears.” Randy’s cover story was foolproof. He had concocted this story and rehearsed it enough times that he almost convinced himself that he was afraid of flying. He was glad that he nearly had it memorized, though, because looking at this woman was enough to make a man forget everything.

Doctor Dominique had watched his body language and listened to his story without interrupting as she analyzed her opponent. She knew that Randy Turner was a private eye and since he had been required to tell the office why he wanted to see the Doctor to get an appointment with her, she had his particular malady checked out. Her completely loyal and intensely thorough investigator had found that Mr. Turner had already taken 14 flights since the first of the year, and had a long history as a high-mileage frequent flyer.

She opened a drawer and took out a shiny black cigarette holder that was about 6″ long and fit an all-white cigarette into the end of it. Looking at Randy, she asked, “I hope you don’t mind me smoking? I find it helps me to relax, and after all, it is MY office, ha ha ha”. Before he had time to answer her question, she was already lighting the end and taking her first inhale.

“Umm, no, of course not. I used to smoke myself, but I gave it up a couple of years ago.”

“Well, Randy, that shows that you must have a lot of will power, because quitting isn’t easy, especially as rellllaaaaaxxxxing as it is to smoke,” she said as she exhaled smoke through her lovely lips right towards where he was sitting.

Randy only wondered for a moment why she had drawn out the word “relaxing” when he was distracted by noticing that the same monotonous canned music from the waiting room was playing in here, too. But, by the time that had sunk in, she was already talking again.

The Doctor brought that sexy looking cigarette holder back up to her lips and inhaled again and then exhaled in Randy’s direction once more. “Yes, it is very rellllllaaaaaxxxxxingggg, which helps with all of the stress that people find themselves under in their lives. You find yourself under a lot of stress, don’t you, Randy?” she asked, leaning a little further forward so that her eyes seemed even closer and larger.

“Yeah, I guess I do”, Randy mumbled, a little surprised. He came in here with a story about a fear of flying and somehow they were talking about smoking and relaxing and stress and he wasn’t sure why. He needed to stay focused here, but she kept exhaling smoke in his direction. Even though he had smoked for years, Randy had never smelled cigarette smoke like this. It wasn’t like other smoke; it seemed so smooth and soft. In fact, it smelled so good that he realized he was watching her inhale and eagerly anticipating her exhale so he could breathe in some more of it. Wait, this was about a fear of flying and trying to check this lady out, but he couldn’t blow his cover by coming on too strong, and besides, the smoke smelled so good and she was right about smoking being very relaxing. Just watching her smoke was causing him to relax, which should make this a lot easier. Play the role, say the lines and watch her fall into the trap. So simple, since he’s done it hundreds of times during investigations.

“So, I’m glad you agree with me, the secret to overcoming your fear is learning to relllllaaaxxxxx” she said as she brought the sexy holder to her lips and drew in another mouthful of smoke which was then blown, no exhaled, no wait, she blew it right at him, didn’t she?

“Agree with you? Wait, when did I agree with you?” Randy was puzzled now, did she purposely blow that last mouthful at me, and when did he agree that relaxing was important?

Taking note of his increased confusion, she smiled and said, “Yes, I see that you are coming along quite well now, Randy, as we just relaxxxxxxx together and smoke the special smoke now.” Doctor Dominique slowly inserted the shiny holder back between her lips and drew in a mouthful of smoke again. She slowly exhaled it as Randy sank deeper into the trap that was luring him in.

Special smoke? Wait, she is doing the smoking, I’m just sitting here relaxing, I mean waiting to get her to open up while I smoke, I mean she smokes and I relax, I mean she relaxes. Something strange is happening here I think. Or, don’t think, it just feels relaxing, oops, it feels smoky, I mean, it feels so nice. What do I feel? This is just like some all night bender, but I swear I’m sober. Why won’t she turn down that stupid music?

“That’s right, Randy, just inhale the special smoke; its okay to relax deeper now.”

All right, while I figure out what is going on, I’ll just inhale and relax for a moment. I just need to regroup, and then I can get control of this discussion back and hope she will smoke some more for me. I mean, tell me more about her beautiful eyes. No, I meant tell me more about what she is doing at this clinic where it’s so important to relax.

“Such a good boy, inhaling and relaxing.....inhaling and relaxing..... inhaling and relaxing.....” she said so enticingly as she removed the incredibly erotic and shiny holder from her beautiful lips and blew yet another stream of smoke directly into Randy’s very relaxed face.

It had been such a busy weekend and Randy admitted to himself that he had been under a lot of stress, so it wasn’t such a bad thing to just relax for a little bit while he listened to that pretty music and just inhaled and relaxed. He vaguely remembered how sexy he had always found cigarette holders to be and how rare it was to find a woman who used one these days. In fact, how rare it was to find a woman like Doctor Dominique who didn’t mind him just relaxing and inhaling here in this very comfortable chair. Randy wished his office had chairs that were this comfortable but he never slowed down long enough to relax in his own office. It was so good of her to allow him to just relax here in her warm and safe office for a few minutes while he remembered how much he enjoyed he loved this music that seemed so familiar, had he heard this before somewhere? But, Randy found that each time he tried to pursue a particular line of thinking, it became too much trouble so he just gave up. He told himself that he would figure it out later because he really preferred to just inhale and relax for now, and was so appreciative that a beautiful woman like Dr. Dominique would be kind enough to allow him to spend time inhaling and relaxing in her office. In fact, he really considered himself so fortunate that she would share her wonderful smoke with him and let him sit and enjoy that gorgeous music that he just loved so much.

Doctor Dominique observed that Randy’s eyelids were looking droopy right on schedule; the drugged coffee, the music and now the second special cigarette were all doing their job. Since her chemists and lab personnel had developed these cigarettes, she had not really developed enough confidence to just use them alone yet, but was beginning to conclude that the other hypnotic-inducing aids were almost irrelevant and probably redundant now. She was quite impressed with how well the cigarettes worked on the mental and physical condition of the recipient of her exhaled smoke and how well the small antidote capsule that she took daily protected her from any of the effects. The use of the cigarettes had an added benefit in that they could be used anywhere with no advance preparation and would arouse virtually no suspicion nor require any direct physical contact with the victim.

By now, Randy’s world had shrunk considerably. The man who was usually so alert and observant and prepared for any situation now found that other than Doctor Dominique’s eyes, voice and smoke along with the wonderful music all of his sensory inputs had disappeared. Although he was not consciously aware that nothing else was getting through to him because he was now enveloped in her hypnotic cocoon which had become his entire existence. Along with the elimination of outside distractions, his ability to form thoughts on his own was long gone as well. His breathing had slowed along with his heart rate and he sat passively inhaling the drugged smoke and allowing the words he heard to become the thoughts in his sleepy mind. The analogy of a dry sponge just soaking up water was not inappropriate. The human mind has a need to create thoughts and process them, and when its ability to initiate the process is impaired, it eagerly seeks raw materials for thinking from any available source. It is a concept well known to foreign governments that actively brainwash their prisoners. When held in isolation long enough, the craving for some sort of input allows outside thoughts to be directly inserted into the attention-starved brain.

Doctor Dominique knew this quite well also, and had these cigarettes designed to shut down the parts of the brain that originate thoughts, which then gave her the perfect opportunity to take control of a mind that has quite literally shifted into neutral. She also found the visual imagery of using her cigarette holders very beneficial to begin conditioning her subjects to one of their newest fetishes. It was at this point that she switched from her verbal reinforcement of his deepening trance to an interrogation.

“Randy, you are very very deep now. I want you to open your eyes and look at me,” she said as she switched on the visually compelling spiral that had been hidden behind her.

As Randy complied, he found the most beautiful woman he had ever seen surrounded by the most incredible spiral he had ever seen. Nearly three feet in diameter, it was painted with a reflective paint and was spinning at a speed engineered specifically for the level of trance he was in currently. Centered behind Doctor Dominique’s head, it created the unusual effect of drawing him in to the center of the spiral that was devoted to her face and especially her eyes, as well as causing him to lean slightly forward as if a strong magnet had a pull on him. As the spiral rotated, the reflective surface was throwing small circles of light across the room in an ever-moving pattern that seemed to dazzle what little peripheral vision he had left.

“Good boy, it pleases me when you do as I tell you. Now, I want you to feel pleasure anytime I say ‘good boy’ to you. Do you understand?” she asked with a smile on her face.

For the first time in nearly thirty minutes, Randy spoke in a dry and parched manner from having sat for half an hour with his mouth open and rarely swallowing, “.....yyyyetthhh”.

“Good boy!”

Instantly, Randy felt a rush of pleasure fill him unlike anything he had experienced before. It was like an infantile satisfaction that a child receives when he has pleased a parent and been strongly commended and at the same time had all of the traits of an intensely sexual response from a very aroused adult. A couple more of those would have the effect of creating an addiction and a craving to replicate the requested behavior just to feel it all over again. The perfect form of conditioning; strongly reward the desired behavior and anchor the connection firmly in the person’s mind with strong doses of pleasure. Of course, all of this was operating on a much simpler and more basic level inside Randy’s deeply entranced mind. All he knew was that he did as he was told and he felt fantastic for doing it.

“Tell me, Randy, do you have a fear of flying?” the sexy hypnotist asked in a manner of someone accustomed to getting the exact answers to the questions she asked without any hint of deception.

“No” came out of Randy reflexively just as predictably as Samantha Dominique had observed in many hypnotized people before.

“Good boy!”

The rush of pleasure was immediate and intense. She wanted to waste no time in beginning to condition him to always seek to please her even when not hypnotized. Even with Randy’s elaborately concocted and rehearsed story about his fear of flying, his trance had forced him to be entirely truthful. Not only was he incapable to trying to deceive her now, the idea to do so could not even occur to him now.

“I didn’t think so. You are a private investigator who has created a fictional illness as an excuse to see me. If you had requested an appointment with honest intentions, I would have not been so suspicious. But, now you will tell me why you used this ruse to see me.” The last part of her comments in no way resembled a question or request. To Randy’s hypnotized mind, it carried all of the weight of a four-star general commanding a private.

Suddenly, it was as if someone had opened a floodgate and the true story that had been bottled up inside of Randy came pouring out. As he begin telling his story, Dr. Dominique fitted another of her unique cigarettes into the beautiful shiny holder, lit it and resumed the therapy of smoky and drugged exhales toward him.

“I have been investigating the disappearance of Steve Wilson and Bobby Harris and the common link between the two of their cases seems to be you”, said a very open and deeply entranced private eye.

Doctor Dominique had to think for a moment about those names before she recalled whom he was talking about. Since everything about them prior to their hypnotic enslavement was essentially erased from their minds, she always just numbered the men and women who served her faithfully. She knew that there was a slight possibility that any use of the name given to them at birth could open up some distant and vague memory of their previous life, so it was just good insurance to remove that chance. Samantha Dominique was very thorough in her brainwashing, but she was smart enough to cover her bases, too. Ah yes, Steve and Bobby, she remembered now; he was talking about Slave # 16 and # 19.

“What was your plan if you found them? Are you here to try some foolish rescue attempt? I assure that if you asked either of them, they would never want to be ‘rescued’ and would prefer to die than leave me”

Once again, no option but complete honesty fueled Randy’s response as he said, “I don’t want to rescue them. I need Steve Wilson’s signature to renew his divorce payments at the bank and I need money from Bobby Harris to satisfy his creditors. I will be paid a nice fee for doing those things.”

“Good boy for telling me the truth!”

Suddenly, Randy was once again lost in a warm sea of deep pleasure swirling all through his body, continuing to cement the connection between truthfulness and obedience and how good it would always make him feel to please her.

The Doctor now laughed as she realized that Randy had meant her no harm, although she mentally kicked herself for allowing the loose ends to exist that caused someone to come looking for those two slaves of hers. She made a note to severely punish her own investigator who had assured her that nothing was left dangling in those men’s lives and that they could easily and completely disappear from society without any repercussions. That led her to contemplate a course of action, and after a few moments, her plan was clear.

“Well, Randy, I shall see to it that you get the signature you needed and that Bobby’s debts are paid. You shall collect your finder’s fees that you will be only too eager to give to me as a tribute of your loyalty. But, those shall be the final two cases of your own private practice, as you will be retiring after reporting to your clients. We will help each other wrap up some loose ends in the lives of two of my slaves. I can use a good investigator, and you have just graduated to a point where you will have only one client for the rest of your life. Your payment shall not be monetary, though, it will be the privilege of being my slave. Now, get up and follow me,” she said, rising from behind the desk and leading the perfectly docile Randy by the hand to the side door of her office.

Doctor Dominique ushered Randy into the adjoining room that was starkly white and medical in appearance, although he had no way of noticing that. Until the effects of the smoke wore off, he would have walked into a wall of fire without being aware of it unless his new Mistress told him it was there. She pulled her willing subject over to a large chair, which resembled a gynecological exam table crossed with a dentist’s treatment chair.

This chair had a smooth latex surface covering a slightly padded frame that was tilted back at about a 45-degree angle. Randy climbed in as instructed and settled back without question. Doctor Dominique had no need for the thick rubber restraining straps that were installed just in case a client managed to resist some part of her induction. In this case, three cigarettes’ worth of her special hypnotic smoke removed that possibility for Randy. Just as she had him sit down, one of her nurses responded to the signal button she had pushed. This very attractive and obedient woman was a very well trained nurse before becoming a very loyal assistant in the secret area of this most unusual clinic.

The nurse was attired in dress that was the traditional white associated with the nursing profession. However, the outfit was made from white rubber that clung to every curve of her body. She wore very pale translucent stockings and white rubber high-heeled boots that came up to her knees. In a vivid contrast to all of that white, she had shiny black latex gloves adhered to her arms up to her elbows as if they were a second skin with virtually no ripples in the material. This nurse walked directly toward the chair and asked, “Yes, Doctor, how may I serve you?”

“Nurse, I want this patient started on Level Ten Therapy immediately. Use the standard IV drugs and hypnotic programming up through level four, but then switch to the Alternate Level B through number ten.” Doctor Dominique wanted to completely transform him into her total slave, but as opposed to some of her servants, she wanted Randy to retain all of his occupational skills. It would be a mistake to erase the traits that she needed in him, and was one reason that she had developed various methods over the years to brainwash people. The standard Level Ten Therapy would have removed nearly every portion of personality and learning to allow a new identity to be formed. Alternate Programming B had the effect of keeping everything intact from the mind except for the idea of escaping or resisting and created the need to obey and serve that was connected in the rearranged mind to the need to breathe. As long as the subject continued to inhale and exhale on their own, they would continue to obey. “While you are at it, let’s administer Fetish programming for latex clothing, shiny boots and cigarette holders, using Fetish Programs # 2, #5 and #7. When he is through, I want to see him grow instantly erect whenever he sees a woman dressed in rubber, or wearing boots or smoking with a shiny black holder and to feel an intense sexual arousal that is coupled with a powerful sense of submissiveness and the need to be obedient. If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.... HA HA HA.”

The nurse selected the appropriate IV bags from the cabinet and hung them on the stand. She inserted the needles into both of his arms, started the drip for the exotic drugs and placed some headphones over Randy’s ears. She took her place at the control panel behind his chair and with practiced movements; activated a series of knobs and switches. A large projection screen descended from the ceiling in front of Randy and by using her microphone input, she spoke into his headphones and told him to watch and obey everything he saw and heard.

Sitting passively and waiting for instructions of what he was to do, Randy opened his eyes so he could do as he was told. In just a few seconds, a pattern of spinning colors lit up the screen in front of him. Even someone wide awake and free of the seductive influence of Doctor Dominique would have found the rapidly and constantly changing designs to be quite entrancing, but to the deeply hypnotized private detective they were the most beautiful and fascinating images he had ever seen. Over and over the various colors spun around on the screen and somehow managed to flash out of the screen onto the walls and the chair and his totally docile face.

Through the headphones, Randy heard the voice of his new Mistress that he had grown to crave while sitting in her office.

“Just watch the captivating colors spinning around and around and around on the screen in front of you. But, the colors are not just on the screen; they are surrounding you and spinning all around the room now. The beautiful colors seem to fill your mind, washing away your thoughts and washing away all resistance. As you continue to watch, you will quite naturally try to analyze their movement and look for a pattern. Finding a pattern and predicting when the pattern will repeat seems to be such a fundamental desire of humans. They look for order in all events. So, my helpless future slave, you will try desperately to do what everyone else does, and in so doing, you will stare intently at the screen trying so hard to identify a pattern that will not appear. As you study the screen so deeply, you will find that your eyes become more and more tired and sleepy. Watching the lights, waiting for the pattern....watching the lights, hoping for a pattern....watching the lights and forgetting that you haven’t seen the pattern that was neveer going to appear in the midst of the patternless lights that you keep watching never realizing that a pattern has in fact not appeared at all except for the pattern of no pattern at all which seems to be so difficult for you to analyze now since it isn’t there at all anyway. As your eyes grow weary from studying the wonderful colors, you will find that your eyelids seem heavier and heavier the longer you watch the fascinating colors spin around and around while your eyes become more and more tired and sleepy from watching the wonderful colors spinning around and around the room where you sit going so deep for me now. Totally lost in the beautiful colors that keep changing and molding your mind which is so lost in the beautiful colors that you cannot look away from as they mold your mind which is going deeper and deeper as the beautiful colors swirl around and around as they spin your sleep mind deeper and deeper into the beautiful colors that just keep spinning and swirling and going deeper and deeper now so lost in deep hypnosis.”

While Doctor Dominique’s recorded induction was playing in his ears, it was being joined by something undetectable at first. Somewhere in the first 30 seconds of the tape being started, there was a barely noticeable beat or a hum in the background. As it grew in volume, what he heard in this right ear was a different input from what was flowing into his left ear. It was like a drum beating or a tone being played, but the two sets of input seemed offset almost like a really fast echo. Randy knew nothing about the science of binaural beats, but they were being used quite effectively on him. This series of tones or pulses was designed to lower his brainwaves to the theta state with the result being a mind that is completely defenseless and receptive to outside control. Between Dr. Dominique’s training in hypnosis, the drugged cigarettes and now the computer-generated program that was being played in front of him, Randy never stood a chance of resisting.

The pattern on the screen began to slowly change into a shape of dark and light lines that were rotating in front of him. At the same time as the light show started this new sequence; very rapidly flashed images began appearing interspersed between other images. The rapid flashing might have been very barely perceived by an alert and wide-awake person, but after being an hour into his programming, Randy was past the stage of recognizing anything. All he knew was that his world was full of bursts of pictures of Doctor Dominique’s face, eyes, cigarette holders, boots and latex wardrobe that were being inserted directly into the middle of his completely entranced mind.. Sandwiched inbetween the erotically compelling scenes, there was a sequence of words flashing as well.

DEEPER and DEEPER DOWN now

It feels GOOD to OBEY

DEEPER and DEEPER DOWN now

OBEY DOCTOR DOMINIQUE

DEEPER and DEEPER DOWN now

You CANNOT look away

DEEPER and DEEPER DOWN now

It feels GOOD to OBEY

DEEPER and DEEPER DOWN now

You MUST obey DOCTOR DOMINIQUE

DEEPER and DEEPER DOWN now

You must OBEY Doctor Dominique

DEEPER and DEEPER DOWN now

There is no choice now

You must obey DOCTOR DOMINIQUE

DEEPER and DEEPER DOWN now

Randy did not consciously “see” any of those words, but they quite permanently registered in his brain and after two hours of rapidly changing images and constant suggestions, he was a different person than the one who came to the clinic less than half a day ago. He had been conditioned to the point where he could never again see a woman in boots, latex clothing or using a cigarette holder without feeling a powerful sexual arousal coupled with an intense submissiveness and desire to obey.

At this point, the combination of tapes that had been selected for Randy had run their course and had been shut down, although their effects would never fade away. The final commands of the tapes had woken Randy back up and left him sitting in a very docile posture. The door opened and Doctor Dominique walked into the room on the tallest pair of thigh high boots he had ever seen. She looked like a giant in 7″ heels and platform soles and the gorgeous black patent leather was shined to such a high gloss that he could see himself reflected in their surface. In her latex gloved hand, she held that same cigarette holder that had originally been used to begin the hypnotic one-way journey that ended here under her mental control. Striding over to her newest conquest in the manner of a confident woman accustomed to being in control, she spoke the words to Randy that signified the beginning of a new phase in his life.

“Good afternoon, SLAVE 22, how are you feeling?”

The person who up until a few hours ago had spent his life answering to the name Randy Turner now responded to SLAVE 22 as if that had been the name on his birth certificate. “I feel very good, thank you Mistress.”

Even though his voice sounded exactly like that of the private investigator who had pursued his two missing persons to the door of this bizarre clinic, Dr. Samantha Dominique studied the look of craving in his eyes and obvious arousal in his crotch as SLAVE 22 looked at her boots and could not keep from following the movement of the shiny black cigarette holder and knew this was a totally altered person. Smiling at her toy, she knew her brainwashing techniques had worked completely once again and the Randy Turner of yesterday had essentially ceased to exist.