The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The TV show was boring, the dog was barking, and she was sitting there with that look on her face again. Her eyes were on the TV, yes, but it was quite clear her thoughts were light-years away. Had she put herself under again? What was she up to now?

Sighing, I got up to put the dog out. She didn’t even glance at me.

It was hard to believe it had been almost fifteen years. She had always had a bit of a more-or-less playful dominant streak in her, and then one night she came home to tell me that the evening class she’d been taking hadn’t really been journaling, it had been a basic hypnosis class. As I’d looked at her, rather stunned, she made it clear that she wasn’t licensed or certified or anything—but she knew how to hypnotize me and had some good ideas about what to do once I was hypnotized.

She then proceeded to prove her statement by taking me down before I even recovered from the initial shock.

In the fifteen years since, hypnosis had become a part of our lives. Her skill increased greatly with time, and I soon stopped even wondering whether or not I was in trance at any given time. I would suddenly find myself kneeling at her feet, or undressing, with absolutely no conscious awareness of why I was doing it—which was an answer in itself.

It was never boring. There was always one more thing to try, one more fantasy to make real. And as I came back into the living room from putting the dog out, she blinked, sighed, looked at me, and smiled.

“Hi.” Oh man. Her soft voice. She stretched, raising her arms over her head and calling attention to her breasts. And I paid attention.

“Hi. Nice view.”

She grinned and shook her head, her hair billowing. What plan had she come up with in her self-induced trance state?

“You go under pretty easy, right? I mean, you’ve been through God knows how many inductions, right?”

I sat down beside her and turned the blathering TV off. “Yeah, that’s pretty safe to say,” I acknowledged with a grin of my own.

“So... on a scale... of one to ten... how easily do you think you go under?”

“Either a one or a ten, depending on which way your scale goes,” I replied, laughing.

She laughed as well, then placed her palm on my thigh. “So... if the scale goes... down... you know you’re not a ten... because ten... is wide awake... wide awake...”

“And you’re not nine... because nine... nine... is almost ten...”

I felt that tingle on the back of my neck. My eyes locked on her hand as it moved ever so slowly, ever so slightly, back and forth on my thigh.

“Eight... No... easier than eight... much easier...”

Some part of my mind marveled at how naturally she did this, at how effortlessly it seemed to come to her. Mid-conversation and I was on my way down. I knew it, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could, or wanted to, do about it.

“Seven... getting closer... closer... you feel yourself getting closer at seven...”

“Six... six is close to five.... and five goes down... down... down... to four....”

The dog. Scratching? Don’t know. Don’t care. She’ll take care of it after she hypnotizes me. She’ll take care of me after she... hypnotizes....

“Four. Here’s where you begin to feel it. You feel it, you know it, you’ve known it from the start, but now you truly understand. You’re going into trance again. You’re going into trance again. Again. Again.”

Again. How many times? Hard to think about it. Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands?

“Three.”

Oh yes. Three. That’s the only number that matters.

“Two.” My leg was tingling. Were my eyes open? Do I care?

“One. This is how easy it is, baby. This is how easily you go under for me. This is how easily you give yourself to me. You love this, don’t you, baby?”

“Yes,” said a voice that may have been mine.

“In fact, you go under so easily, that the next time I count down you will go twice as deep, twice as fast. Twice as deep, twice as fast, the next time I count you down. You want that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” mumbled the voice.

“Ten.”

Was I awake again? Was she still caressing my thigh? Did I feel something pressing my crotch?

“Nine.”

It doesn’t matter.

“Eight.”

There WAS something pressing my cock.

“Seven.”

And then there was nothing.

I awoke in a familiar place, in a familiar position. I had built a simple, yet sturdy, contraption that turned the eight-foot pool table in the basement into a nice bondage table. If you want to talk about excitement, imagine yourself being told to put it together, knowing that once you do, you’ll be lying naked on it, tied down, and helpless.

And indeed, there I was, nude, tied to the top. I didn’t know how I go that way, I didn’t know how much time had passed, and I didn’t care. She had so much power over me that it wasn’t even worth wondering. If she wanted me to know she would tell me.

Bear this in mind—I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, a submissive man. But when the woman I love uses her finely crafted skills on me, taking us both to places we’d never see otherwise, I will let her.

She was leaning against the wall, holding a cue stick like she was going to play. For a brief instant my eyes widened and my sphincter muscles contracted by themselves—what in God’s name did she plan on doing with that?

She saw the look.

And, putting the cue in the rack, she walked towards me with that smile. That smile that got me so hard, so hot, and so ready, that I would do anything she came up with.

“Made you little nervous, huh?”

“Uh... yeah. I think this is the first time I was actually nervous.”

“Why? You’ve had plugs and vibrators and all sorts of wonderful toys in your tight little ass.”

“Well, yeah, but they... they were.. they were toys, they were made to do that. A cue stick... Jeez...”

“Did you really think I would have done that?”

I looked at her squarely. “No, I don’t, but that one second, before I had time to think, I... well... Jeez...”

She crouched down, folding her hands on the table, resting her chin on them, inches from my face. “And what if you didn’t have time? What if you didn’t have that one second to think about it?”

Was she trying to make me nervous? I didn’t know what to say, I lay there, looking at her, frowning. Nude. Hard. And trying not to be nervous.

“You go under because you want to, and because I want you to.” She running her fingers through my hair, gently, slowly. “You give yourself to me because you want to, and I want you to. Just like now. You feel my hands in your hair. You feel my voice in your mind. You feel my power in your cock. And you want it. You want this. You want to feel your cock respond to my power. You want to feel like you’re losing control of yourself. You want to let me do things... do things to you... things like... make you sleepy... things like... relax your body until you don’t even know if your cock is hard any more. Things like put you deep, deep, into hypnosis. Deep, deep under my power. You want to go under for me, right now. You want to...”

My body had already melted away, and now her words faded away.

She was standing next to the pool/bondage table, naked except for her panties. That realization was all it took for me to get hard again, and I was well aware of it. So was she, as she looked at it and waggled her tongue diabolically, then gave me a sly wink.

Then she stood there for a few moments, just watching me. I waited patiently, my cock pulsing, my eyes on her. What did she have planned? When she spoke, her voice was low, sultry, that voice that pulled me into it and wrapped itself around me.

“What happens in that one second? That one second between awareness and acceptance? What happens inside your mind that makes it okay for you to accept? What is it inside you that decides what you accept and what you don’t?”

I lay there, assuming that for now these were rhetorical questions, which would lead to her point. They were interesting questions, though, and I began to wonder if this night would be rather different than other nights.

“It is very hard for you to resist me under hypnosis. The place I take you, the place you go when my words and my power affect you... when you are in that place you want to obey me, you want to please me. Right?”

I nodded my agreement.

“And you let me take you to that place because you want to.”

“Yes,” I said, nodding again. Where was this leading?

“Think about the pool cue.”

I did, flashing that image of her standing there with it, and again, my sphincter tightened and I inwardly cringed just a tiny bit. What the hell?

“Is there a point beyond ‘I want to’? Is there a point where I would tell you to do something, and you would do it, simply because I told you to, not because you wanted to? Is there a point where I could make you do things you don’t want to? What would happen if you you were so totally lost in my spell that you didn’t have that one second?”

I didn’t know what to say. I stared at her, feeling the influence of her soft voice beginning to affect me, while at the same time her words made me rather uncomfortable. I shifted, or maybe shuddered, on the table.

“Yes, that makes you nervous. It would make me nervous too. In fact, it really amazes me that you allow me to take you so completely, and so deeply, and so often. Wanting to let go for me makes it so very easy. I have such power over you, power to create desires and urges, power to create a feeling of surrender so strong that you want more than anything else in the world to give in to it.”

She was closer now, and I was starting to drift. There was simply no way to resist that voice, no matter what it was saying. And her choice of words was obviously not random.

“Where does ‘I have to’ begin?” she whispered, leaning close to me. “Where is ‘I want to’ overwhelmed by my power over you? Where do I begin to take more power than you are willing to give?”

There were fingers around my cock now, squeezing hard. I don’t know if my eyes were open. I did not see the finger that touched my forehead as her voice whispered, “Give in to my power again, right now.”

I did. Uncomfortable or not, I let go, sinking deep into trance at her command.

I was still on the table. After a little more experimentation I realized my ankles were still tied down, but my wrists were free.

She was standing next to me, now nude. Her nipples were hard, and one hand was already between her legs.

“Play with yourself for me,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

And so I wrapped my trembling hand around my rigid cock and began stroking. A small voice in the back of my mind wondered whether I was even hypnotized at the moment, but as the pleasure increased, I stopped caring.

She let me go on, she let me pump myself closer and closer to the point of no return. And then, just before I reached it, she said, “STOP, RIGHT NOW,” in her most demanding domme voice. I always wondered how she knew I was going to cum. The obvious answer is she planted something in my mind that makes me do something minor yet obvious just before I reach orgasm. At any rate, I stopped, surprised by both the command and her tone.

Panting, I lay there, hand still around my cock, looking at her. The previous conversations began to come back to me, and I trembled as if a chill had gone through the room. What was happening here?

“Did you want to do that? Did you want to stop?” she asked, leaning over and staring into my eyes from a distance of about six inches. She was still panting, and I knew her fingers were still between her legs.

“No!” I exclaimed. Why the hell would I want to stop?

She moved away, looking at me thoughtfully.

“So have you reached the point where you do things because I tell you to, and not because you want to? Wide awake, where you can resist all you want, and you do something you don’t want to do, simply because I told you to. With all your will power and self-control available to you, you did what you were told even though you didn’t want to.”

“You told... but... I didn’t.... You said to... " Now I was confused.

She leaned even closer, whispering right in my ear. “Imagine that. Wide awake and you do things you don’t want to do. What happened during that one second? What happened between the time I told you to stop and the time your hand stopped moving? Did you think about resisting? Did you think to yourself, hell, no, I’m gonna cum? No. You stopped. Because I told you to. And now imagine if that had happened while you were in trance, so deep and so helpless and so totally, completely, utterly under my control. Imagine me telling you to jerk off at my command. Imagine your hand, sliding up and down, just like before, but now you’re in trance so it feels just that little bit different. You can’t help it and you know it. You’re playing with your cock at my command, and you’re ready to cum. Are you with me here? So close, almost ready to cum, and I tell you, I COMMAND you, to stop. What do you do?”

I was there. My eyes were closed and in my mind I was jerking off like crazy. My cock was throbbing, could feel everything she described in perfect detail. And then she said STOP. What do I do?

“I... I stop...” I panted, my voice unsteady.

“Ah, yes, you stop. You don’t have that one second here, that one second you chose not to use while you were awake, so you simply do what I say. Does that part of your mind that gives you that one second shut down when my power overwhelms you? You jerk off until you’re almost ready to cum and then you stop because I say to? Hypnotized or not, I don’t think that’s a decision you would consciously make, is it?”

Huh?

“I don’t... know...” My heart was still pounding, my cock was still twitching.

“You don’t know? Baby, that’s bullshit. Imagine making love and just before you cum inside me, you pull out and say, well, that was fun, let’s watch TV now. No fucking way. Not going to happen.”

I had to grin. My mind was spinning, trying to keep up with all her questions and everything, and still recovering from my aborted self-pleasure. The total absurdity of coitus interruptus for the television was too wild to accept.

She was moving, quickly. I blinked, and she was on the table with me, straddling me, reaching down, grabbing my cock and positioning it beneath her. I had time to gasp in surprise before she impaled herself upon my cock.

There wasn’t a lot I could do as far as movement with bound ankles, but I managed to slide down a little, bend my knees, and get some serious friction going. Her eyes were closed, her hair was everywhere, her moans and groans filled my ears and my mind. My cock seemed to grow with every thrust, with every arch of her back, and it wasn’t long before I knew I was going to cum.

“STOP,” she yelled, her body freezing.

I froze as well, my body—but not my cock—going limp, settling on the table, shaking like a leaf. She rode me down, kneeling above me, my cock still inside her, panting, grinning down at me.

“Why’d you stop?” she rasped.

“You... you told me...”

“Yes, I did. But you were going to cum, right?”

“Yeah. Oh Jesus, yeah...”

“So you wanted to stop?”

“NO! No. Fuck, no.” I was just plain confused now. Confused and horny and hard and feeling her eyes looking down at me. Something within me, some deeply conditioned response, compelled me to meet her gaze.

She saw the brief struggle, saw me surrender to the inevitable result. She smiled, and leaned over, bringing those eyes closer to me. “Yeah, baby, good boy. What happened in that one second, baby?”

I heard the question. Her eyes were already taking over, and it was not my conscious mind that replied to her question.

“I... looked... at you...” I whispered, lost in her eyes.

“Yes, baby, you did. You looked into my eyes, deep, deep into my eyes. And you know what happens when you look deep into my eyes, don’t you baby?”

“Yes.” My voice was barely audible.

“Of course you do.” Something touched my forehead.

I was still on the table, but the position was actually unfamiliar. There was a pillow under my head, which rested on the table. My wrists were crossed above my head, so that I was looking out from under my right arm. After a moment of consideration, I realized that I was, in essence, bent over on the table with my ass high in the air, totally exposed and totally vulnerable. Without any expectation whatsoever, I tried to move. I could not, and it says much about our relationship that I didn’t even wonder whether the bonds that held me were physical or mental. The result was identical either way.

And there I knelt, for some time. And during that time, my mind began to wander. What was today all about? Was it still today? Where did I want to become I have to? Was there a point where her desire for power would actually overwhelm my desire to submit? I knelt there, on the bondage table I myself had build, and thought about desire, and trust, and submission. And as my mind drifted around, I noticed that I could see my right wrist.

There was nothing holding my wrists together. No ropes, no chains, no straps, no ties. No bonds at all.

No physical bonds.

And in the midst of my pondering I began to laugh, softly, happily, almost giddily. The power this woman had over me, the power I allowed her to take from me...

Ah, but that was it, wasn’t it?

My laughter stopped. Could I want to become I have to? Could she indeed take more control than I was willing to give her? What, if anything, would that do to me? Would I even know if it happened?

A soft rustle drew my attention. She came into the room, running her fingers through my hair as she walked past the table. No words were spoken as she walked over to the far wall.

In the position I was in, I could only see her from her breasts down. And when I saw what she was doing, I felt my face turn white.

She was removing a pool cue from the rack and holding it up as if to study it. I could not see her face, but I saw the cue held up as if to her eye, to check its straightness. I lay there, watching this, and I began to shake.

She walked back toward the table, naturally walking on my end so I still could not see her face. Her fingers dragged through my hair again, and then she disappeared behind me. I knelt there, heart pounding, not quite believing what was happening.

I heard the cue being rested against the table. I felt her hands on my buttocks, and I squeezed my eyes shut. This could not be happening.

Very softly, she caressed my ass, kneading and rubbing and massaging so smoothly, so gently, so tenderly, that I actually began to drift a little. A not-so-soft slap on my left buttock snapped me back to reality.

“Hi, honey,” she said, her voice oozing sensual authority,

“Hi,” I managed to croak back. All I could now think about was that damn pool cue, and what she had planned for it.

“Comfortable?”

“Uh... I suppose so, all things considered.”

Which meant, physically, yes, and emotionally, no. She knew me well enough to understand.

Motion, panting, the table moving. She was joining me on the table. I felt her presence behind me, close behind me, with my ass hovering helplessly before her.

A wooden scraping sound as she took the cue from where it had rested.

I closed my eyes.

Her body against the backs of my legs, and my ass. Her hands on my back. Her nails in my flesh. Her lips brushing the small of my back. Her nipples against my flesh.

I lay there, or knelt there, eyes shut tight, trembling, and yet totally rigid as her attention created such wonderful sensations.

One of her hands came off my back. Seconds later she reached between my legs and squeezed my cock. I moaned and shuddered, feeling myself sinking under her sensual spell.

The other hand disappeared, quickly followed by a plastic popping sound. I froze as I felt silky smooth lube dripping over my buttocks. She let go of my cock and traced patterns in the lube with her fingertips. I braced myself for what was next. She was really going to do it, I realized.

I never had time to be surprised when I heard her say a single word, a word I know so well, a word that affects me each and every time I hear her say it. I was so conditioned to this word, in fact, that I did not have that one second to understand what was happening.

That word sank into my subconscious mind and sent me into trance before my conscious mind had processed what the word was.

“Hi.”

“Uh... hi.”

We were back in the living room. Me on the couch, her in one of the recliners.

“That was an interesting discovery down there.”

“Uh... what was?”

“The fact that you do things you don’t want to do. The fact that you sometimes choose not to use the one second you generally have to evaluate a situation, and when you do, you accept the situation.”

It came back to me all at once. The table. Being bound to it by her power alone. Lying on it, with her riding me, and stopping when told to. Jerking off at her command—and stopping at her command.

The pool cue.... I felt my face pale again. I could not remember anything after she dripped lube on my ass.

“The pool cue...” I hesitated asking because I didn’t know if I wanted to hear the answer.

“What about it?” She asked, her face and voice all innocence.

“Did you..... um... did it....”

She tilted her head at me. “So you think all that was leading up to using the pool cue on you?”

She had. What little color I had left drained away. “Oh God...”

“Baby, you had all the time in the world to stop me. You weren’t even under, you weren’t even tied down. I mean, yeah, I gave you a post to feel bound to the table, but still, you lay there and waited for me to do it.”

I blinked. And I blinked again. That wasn’t right, I hadn’t waited for it, I hadn’t even wanted it...

But I wasn’t tied down...

And I wasn’t under hypnosis, really...

“But....”

She broke into a wide grin, then burst out laughing. “What an appropriate response,” she said. I could not help laughing as well, but it didn’t last long.

“Wait a minute. Are you telling me that you proved I’ll do things I don’t want to do? And that all those people who say you won’t do things under hypnosis that you won’t normally do are wrong?” Again I imagined her looking down the length of the pool cue, and cringed.

“Is that what you think I proved?”

“Dammit, stop answering questions with questions.”

She rose. Uh, oh, I thought. She walked toward me, hips swinging, knowingly using her body to focus my attention. She paused before me and knelt on the floor between my legs. Her hands rested on my thighs, making it rather difficult to concentrate on what she was saying.

She sighed and smiled at me. “Poor baby. What’s that Meredith Brooks song... ‘Bitch’, isn’t it? I’m a tease, I’m a goddess, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Would you?”

“No, I would not,” I replied, meaning it.

“I know,” she said, more softly, looking at me with a thoughtful expression.

“Did you use that stick? What were you trying to prove?” I asked after a short silence.

She grinned, a wicked, irresistible grin that made me aroused and excited and nervous and a host of other, lesser, nameless emotions all at once. Slowly, staring into my eyes all the time, she crawled up onto the couch, straddling me with her legs, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“Who said I was trying to prove anything?” she whispered as she stared, gently moving her hips back and forth. “No, I didn’t use the stick on you. I wanted to see what you would do if you thought I was going to. So maybe... just maybe... I was planting a little seed.... a little seed of doubt... in your mind....”

“...Doubt?” Already her eyes and voice were affecting me strongly enough to not be surprised, or even relieved, that she hadn’t used the cue.

She nodded, working herself down into my lap, staring into my eyes.

“Doubt.” She wiggled her body, working herself deeper down into my lap as her eyes pulled me deeper into them.

“...Doubt... .what...?”

“Your motives.”

“....huh......?”

“Your motives. Why you do the things you do when I tell you to do them. Why you do what I tell you to do. Do you know why you do what I tell you to do?”

Lost, already under her spell, I might have shaken my head no. I might have even said no.

I wasn’t sure it even mattered why I did things for her.

Her eyes, her voice, her presence, her scent... I was gone. My eyes slid shut and my body melted into hers. Her voice was in my ear, in my head, everywhere.

“Because.”