The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive


© Copyright 2002-2007 by Wiseguy


My mouth felt suddenly dry. Without bothering to even look, my hand groped for the nearest glass and I took a long pull of my drink. It was fruity and sweet, with the telltale bitter flavor of alcohol underneath.

“You want me to? Why? And why would I?”

Claire nodded, still meeting my gaze. “I’ve got two goals for this week, Jack. One of them is that I want to take a vacation from being Miss Prim and Proper Grade-School Teacher. What you did up there with those people was so hot, I’m going to be having dreams about it for months. But why stop at dreaming if I can have the real thing?” She leaned forward, lowered her voice, and put a hand on my leg. “I want you to put me under, Jack, and free me from myself for a while. I want to wake up in your room with no idea how I got there, no clothes on, and no desire other than to fuck your brains out.”

Slowly, she took one of my hands in hers and brought it to her chest. “That’s my motivation, Jack. Here’s yours.” She was wearing a satin dress and, I quickly discovered, no bra—an erect nipple poked into my palm through the fabric as she pressed my hand against herself. “I know you want Monica. I’ll even admit that she’s probably closer to your type than I am. But I’m right here, offering myself to you. A bird in the hand, so to speak.”

She was indeed. My cock was straining already as the blood rushed into it. I thought about Monica, alienated, maybe for good. I thought about Laurel, peacefully sleeping away her last night in this place. But the immediacy of Claire, the obvious willingness, was too much to pass up. I’d denied myself three times already that night—once unwittingly, twice deliberately— that was enough.

I pulled my hand away from her breast. “Are you sure?”

She nodded again, staring me down.

“Okay.” With my left hand, I took Claire’s right hand and held it firmly. With my right, I held up an index finger, just above her eye level, about a foot away from her face. “Watch my finger,” I told her, as I began moving it slowly from side to side. “Focus your concentration on my fingertip, and see if you can follow it without moving your head. And as you do, see if you can remember what it felt like just an hour or two ago, as you focused your attention on my hypnodisc and felt yourself getting sleepy, drowsy, tired. Remember your eyes becoming so tired, so heavy, so sleepy.”

If someone has been in hypnosis recently, they’ll go back very quickly if you can get them to remember the sensation. So it was with Claire – a few seconds of induction and she was already there. The hand that I held felt totally relaxed and limp and her eyelids were drooping. “And as you remember exactly that feeling, notice that your eyes are becoming ever heavier now, ever so hard to keep open, so sleepy that soon it will be impossible for you to keep them in focus.” As I spoke, I started moving my finger even closer to her face, making that last statement a self-fulfilling prophecy. “Soon you will be so deeply hypnotized that your eyes will no longer focus; when that happens, you can just let them close down now and you’ll drift off into a deep, deep hypnotic sleep, deeper than ever before, deeper than you thought possible.”

She was blinking heavily, her eyes becoming more and more reluctant to open again, and finding it harder and harder to focus on the finger. When I got to within about six inches of her face I could see her lose focus. “Sleep!” I commanded and tugged lightly on her hand. Claire fell forward, her body totally limp. I caught her head and set her in a comfortable position. It took only a few minutes and a standard deepener to get her to a point where I could see her eyes fluttering in REM under the lids. Her skin paled a bit as her breathing and circulation slowed.

“In a few moments, Claire, I’m going to count to three. When I reach three you will open your eyes and look straight ahead of you. You’ll also feel some energy returning to your body, enabling you to sit up straight. You’ll remain deeply hypnotized, however; in fact, the more you move and look around the more deeply your mind can continue to relax and go deeper into hypnosis. I will then ask you to follow me. You will stand up and walk with me back to my room, remaining quiet and staying with me at all times even as your mind slips deeper and deeper into hypnosis. One, two, three.”

Her face took on a beautiful blank stare as she sat up in the chair. I took her limp hand in mine and stood up. “Follow me.”

We walked hand in hand to the elevators in the main lobby. More than a few people noticed something odd about Claire—the blank stare, the economy of movement, all had an odd movie-like feel—but none stopped to ask about it.

I led Claire into the nearest elevator and pressed the button for the twelfth floor. The car went smoothly and directly up and the doors opened with a discreet “Ding!” My charge followed me out of the elevator to the door marked 1201 and inside.

I tossed my jacket on top of my suitcase and plopped into one of the two easy chairs while Claire stood waiting before me. Oh, Claire, I thought, contemplating her still form, what to do with you?

What do you mean, what to do?

I knew that voice. That was the voice I’d been listening to for most of the show; the one that likes to play the angles, see how far people will go; the one who used to enjoy zapping perhaps-willing women at frat parties; the one that, until a few hours before, had been securely locked away in a dungeon in the back of my head. The user.

For answer, I turned to my better half: the voice that looks for solutions; that treats people with respect; that minds the ways and teachings of my old professor. The teacher, if you will. The teacher would send Claire back to her room with instructions to sleep well and wake in the morning feeling satisfied and relieved.

Bullshit, protested the user. She wants this. You heard her say so.

True. But liking the idea of something in the abstract is a long way from liking it in reality. Why would anyone want to be compelled to have sex with a stranger?

She told you why, you moron. Accept that and go with it. She wants you. And you want her.

No, I wanted Monica.

But if you can’t be with the one you love, buddy, love the one you’re with.

The teacher knew it was a bad idea, but I stood up and put my hands on Claire’s shoulders, sliding the straps of her dress aside. I stepped behind her and slowly lowered the zipper, allowing the dress to fall to the floor. My hands reached around to cup her breasts, my nose burrowing into the nape of her neck and filling itself with her scent. Somewhere in the distance the teacher was warning me to stop, don’t do this, but his voice was drowned out in the rushing of blood to my groin. In a matter of moments I had Claire completely stripped, her clothes tossed aside on top of my jacket, her face still staring blankly ahead while she waited for instructions.

“Claire,” I told her, “in a few moments I’m going to count to three. When I reach three you will wake up, completely alert and aware, no longer hypnotized. In fact, your conscious mind will have no memory of anything that happened while you were hypnotized. The more you try to remember anything that happened after the hypnosis show, the more impossible it will be for you to remember. All you will remember is that you can’t remember. Those memories will remain in your subconscious, known only to your subconscious, until I hypnotize you again and tell you that it’s okay to remember.

“And now, Claire, you’re going to experience the fantasy you asked for. As I count to three not only will you emerge from your hypnotic sleep, remembering nothing that’s happened since the hypnosis show, but you will also discover that you are naked. You won’t remember how you got that way; in fact, it won’t matter how you got that way because you will see me as the most sexually attractive man you’ve ever seen, and you will have an overwhelming desire to have sex with me. Even now you can feel yourself becoming aroused, the blood rushing to your erogenous zones, making your entire body sensitive and needing to be touched, stroked, and kissed. Each breath you take, each beat of your heart, increases your arousal and desire. The more you try to resist the feeling, the more you try to think of anything other than having sex with me, the stronger that need for sex will become. Any place that I touch you will send pleasure signals throughout your body as if I’d touched your most sensitive, intimate places. You will orgasm easily and often, as often as you’d like to, with each orgasm making you want more and more. This irresistible desire for sex will continue until I tell you to sleep; when I say, ‘Sleep, Claire’ to you, you will stop having sex and you will return immediately to a deep hypnotic sleep like the one you are in right now.”

I walked slowly back to the easy chair, tossing my shirt aside on the way, and sank into it. “One, feeling a strong sexual arousal and desire building inside of you; two, feeling the energy returning to your body, the desire for sex increasing with each breath you take; and three.”

From my spot in the easy chair I had a great view of her body and face as she came out of it. I saw her eyes flutter open, stare, and then come into focus. Her shoulders rose up. Her hands flexed and then, coming into contact with skin, felt around as she looked down to confirm that her clothes were gone. “What the ...?”

And then she looked at me. Her pupils dilated and her eyes took on an extra sparkle and the color returned to her cheeks. A soft, pink glow started to spread from the golden thatch below her belly up to her chest. All of this gave witness to her thoughts and yet she struggled to ask questions. “Where ... how ... ?”

I smiled, drinking in the sight of my confused, naked, horny girl. “None of that is really important right now, is it?”

She glared at me, showing both lust and anger. “It won’t work, you know.”

I shrugged that off, smiling all the more. Was this real resistance, or just Claire’s subconscious embellishing the fantasy? There was only one way to tell: watch. If she truly didn’t want to do this, I hadn’t said anything that would stop her from picking up her clothes and walking out. If, on the other hand, she just wanted to feel compelled, then she’d make a show of fighting the urge and then give in gloriously. My shaft thickened, anticipating and hoping.

Her hands moved, one to cover her mound and the other her breasts. But within moments she was fondling rather than hiding. I had my answer.

I rose from my chair, peeled off my undershirt and tossed it onto the clothes pile. Then I came right up to Claire, my face inches from hers. “Let me do that.” I took my left hand and gently pulled her forearm away from her breasts, and then with my right I cupped a breast and let my thumb play over the engorged nipple. Claire gasped and shuddered and fell forward into my arms. I held her firmly while she rode out her first climax.

In a few moments her breathing slowed a little. Her arms slipped out from between us and gripped me tightly as her lips found mine. The kiss melted my fillings and sent all of the blood rushing to my groin. She kept kissing, almost trying to climb into my mouth it seemed, while her hands explored my upper body. I returned the favor, and in a few moments I could feel fingers clawing at my pants. Claire dropped to her knees, pulling my pants and underwear down with her, and kissed her way down to my waiting member. Her tongue caressed it, sending shivers up and down my entire body. I felt her lips on the tip and knew there was no way I’d last more than ten seconds in her mouth.

I stepped back—or at least I tried to. With my pants and underwear still around my ankles, all I succeeded in doing was falling backwards onto the floor. My head hit a corner of the easy chair and the room tilted for a second or two. By the time I recovered my wits, Claire had my legs pinned down and my cock in her mouth, and was doing things to it that only an inspired fellatrix could. I couldn’t reach her, and the longer it went on the less I really wanted her to stop, but if I wanted this to last much longer, I was going to have to do something immediately.

So I did the only thing I could do under the circumstances: I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and triggered myself into hypnosis. Feel the pleasure, I told myself, but hold your release. I pictured a fire hydrant, with a fireman turning his wrench on the release valve at the top to shut off the water flow. I pictured a steel submarine door slamming shut, the latch wheel spinning clockwise to seal it. And I allowed the pleasure of an orgasm to flow through me, my whole body tingling with the sensations of it, while holding my flow. And I kept breathing, easily and deeply.

Three seconds, three minutes, three hours; I’d be hard pressed to say which is closer to the amount of time we spent that way. I’d have come twice over if not for my own conditioning. Instead, I lay there wallowing in the pleasure until Claire came up for air. I opened my eyes in time to see her climbing up my body and preparing to lower herself onto my iron spike. I reached up, found her breasts, and gave each a nice squeeze as she settled herself over me. She trembled again when she felt me slide home like a key in a very moist lock. “Come for me,” I told her, and she did, rocking and grinding while she gasped and moaned her way through another climax.

She was tiring; I could tell by the way she let my arms support her upper body. How much more would she want? How much more could I take? I had no idea, but I was having the time of my life finding out.

Taking advantage of a post-orgasmic lull, I lowered Claire’s body onto mine and rolled us over. My face landed between her breasts, so I gave each a few minutes of kissing, nibbling, and caressing until she started squirming under me. Then I kissed my way down her belly. She got the message and spread her legs for me.

The holy of holies was heavy with her scent and her juices. I dove in with relish, partly because she’d been so lovingly attentive to me a few minutes before, partly because she tasted delectable. I explored her lips, her canal, her button, while her legs squeezed my head and her breath came in ragged gasps. She came again, hard and fast, and for a moment I thought my neck was going to snap with the force of her gyrations. It would serve you right, I told myself, but what a way to go!

Claire was nearing exhaustion. Her eyes were glazed and unfocused, her body moving without any real purpose to it. One more, I figured, and she’d be done. All the more reason to treat myself this time. Rising to my knees, I scooted forward and lifted Claire’s bottom. “Oh, God, yes!” she panted, and tried to help by raising her legs up, but they were too tired and heavy for her. I grabbed a pillow off the bed, folded it over, and tucked it under the small of her back for support, then drove myself home. The initial contact jolted Claire into action—her legs hooked around me weakly and pulled us together. I used a free hand to caress her belly, tracing circles on her skin, feeling her muscles tense in preparation for another climax.

Okay, I said to myself, sliding back into trance a little, now. In the back of my head, I felt the countdown begin at five. I ran my fingers through Claire’s yellow pelt, petting her, preparing her, through four and three. At two I found her button and gave it a gentle nudge. At one I said, “Come for me,” and felt the tight clenching of her muscles as she did. Then I reached zero and all of my circuits went haywire as I finally had a full-blown orgasm of my own. I know I called out incoherently, my voice mixing with Claire’s, as my seed gushed into her. We stayed locked together on the floor until all of the energy left me and I collapsed onto her again, both of us semi-conscious at best.

We lay there panting and recovering for a few minutes before I felt her hands beginning to caress my back again. Enough is enough: I rose up and looked into her glazed eyes. “Sleep, Claire.”

Her arms flopped onto the floor and her eyes closed with a deep, satisfied sigh. I found the energy to get up, wandered to the bathroom, had a glass of water and took a very quick shower to rinse off the sweat and musk. I brought an extra towel with me back to the floor where Claire lay entranced and wiped her off as best I could. Then I turned down the bed, lifted her in my arms and laid her in it.

“Claire,” I said as I slipped into bed beside her, “in a moment I’m going to count to three. When I reach three you will relax even more, leaving hypnosis and drifting into a deep, refreshing, natural sleep. Nothing will disturb you during this sleep. You will stay asleep until you hear the alarm clock. When the alarm sounds, you will awaken and remember everything that happened tonight, including the things I told you not to remember earlier. As you remember these things, you will experience one more orgasm more intense than any you’ve felt tonight, and then you will be completely awake and aware and no longer hypnotized. The compulsion to have sex with me will be gone as well; from now on you will only have sex when you want to, and with whom you want to.

“One ... two ... three.”

Claire took a deep breath and rolled toward me, a happy smile on her sleeping face. I set the alarm for 8:30 and put myself to sleep as well.

I never did hear the alarm go off; instead, I became aware of a warm, soft body pressing against mine and clutching me while a voice moaned heavily. There is nothing more beautiful to see than a woman in the throes of a really strong orgasm; I opened my eyes just in time to see Claire’s face at the peak of hers, right on schedule. My hand stroked her side idly, waiting for the end.

“Good morning,” I told her as her breathing began to return to normal.

Claire’s eyes locked onto mine and I could see the passion continuing to burn in them. “You realize I’m taking that alarm clock with me, right?”

We laughed together, then lapsed into a pleasant silence. Claire toyed idly with the hairs on my chest, her face resting on my shoulder. “That was amazing,” she told me. “You played my body like an artist last night.”

“Not really,” I corrected. “I played your mind; your body just came along for the ride.”

Claire groaned and tweaked my nipple. “Keep that up and I’ll give you detention.”

“Do third graders teachers give detention?”

She rose up over me and grinned. “Only to the very naughty boys.” She lingered over me, looking down into my face. “Now you’ve got me curious about something,” she confessed.

“Oh?” She was straddling me now, and I was becoming acutely aware of how closely her mound hovered over my groin.

“I’m wondering how much of last night was the hypnosis and how much was real physical reaction.”

My cock started growing almost immediately, stretching up, seeking her. “And how do you propose to satisfy this curiosity?” As if I hadn’t already guessed.

For answer, she leaned down and planted a sweltering kiss on my mouth. Our lips parted and tongues met, and that was all it took to put my other head in charge. I probed her center with my fingers, stroking her inside button while sucking at an offered nipple until she was not only ready but eager. Then I let go and let her plunge herself down onto my saddle horn. I clenched down hard, pressing against her from the inside while she rode me. In a few minutes she sat up straight, flung her head back, and grunted her way to orgasm. Watching her chest heave with her exertions and feeling the convulsions around me was all the added stimulation I needed to join her.

We lay together in silence, still coupled, with Claire on top of me as we recovered our breath. After a while I felt gentle fingers playing with my hair. I opened my eyes to see Claire’s face hovering over me again. “Teach me.”

“It’s too late,” I told her, still riding a post-coital high. “You’re already an expert.”

She giggled. “I prefer to think of myself as a talented amateur. But that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

I sighed and waited.

“I saw what you did on that stage. I felt it myself in this room last night. I hadn’t had one of those big, all-over, screaming orgasms in months, Jack, and last night I had at least three. I want to be able to do that.”

Alarm bells were going off all over in my head. “Claire,” I said, “you need to understand some things. Hypnosis is not just about getting people to shed their clothes and have orgasms. If you don’t know what you’re doing, you can hurt people.”

“So make sure I know what I’m doing, Jack. Teach me.”

Firmly but carefully, I rolled over and slid her off to my side. “It’s not that simple. For starters, you should have at least thirty or forty hours of classroom training before you start hypnotizing people on your own. If you’re going to try to do therapy, you should study more and get properly certified by one of the major associations. And Indiana has its own requirements and regulations you’d have to follow.”

She was shaking her head. “I’m not talking about doing hypnotherapy, Jack. Maybe later, but not now. Suppose I just want to do party tricks and seduce men?”

I looked her body over pointedly. “You do not need hypnosis to seduce men.”

She had the grace to blush slightly. “Thank you, I think. But you haven’t answered my question yet, Jack. Will you teach me?”

I looked into her face and read the eagerness in it. The user was all for it, of course; what better way to spend the week than showing the pretty lady a few tricks? And if I got to tap her highly attractive keg a few more times in exchange, so much the better.

The teacher, perhaps ironically, was reluctant. In a week, assuming we had that long, I could teach Claire enough to be dangerous but not enough to be responsible. It could be like handing a disposable lighter to an 8-year-old boy and sending him for a walk in the woods. She might only be interested in sexual hijinks, but an abreaction could happen at any time with anybody. Did I want that on my conscience?

I could see she was waiting for an answer. “Can I think about it?”

Disappointment crossed her face, but she wiped it off quickly. “Sure. You think about it. In the meantime, mind if I borrow your shower?”

“Be my guest.”

I couldn’t resist admiring her naked body as she slid out of bed and padded toward the bathroom. She caught me via the reflection in the mirror, winked, and disappeared behind the door.

When she came out a few minutes later, I was still lying in bed contemplating her request. “Next,” she said, smiling. “That is, unless you’d rather watch me get dressed.”

I gave her my best leer. “Right now I think I’d enjoy watching you do just about anything.”

She chuckled and dropped her towel on the bed. I watched until the most interesting parts were covered, then hit the shower myself. When I came out, she was just hanging up the phone.

“I’d stay for the show,” she said, “but I need to slip downstairs and change. I didn’t plan this very well—I’m going to look very strange walking through the halls this way.”

She had a point. The evening dress and heels were a bit dressy for a morning stroll, and her total lack of makeup proclaimed to all that she’d spent the night in someone else’s room. “I’d offer you something of mine, but I don’t think it would look any better.”

“Cute,” she commented. “Will you be bringing your sense of humor to breakfast? Monica said she’d meet us in the dining room.”

Hearing that name brought me back to earth quickly. “Is that a good idea?” I asked. “I mean, is she okay with this?”

Claire shrugged. “Good question. There’s only one way to find out. Are you game?”

Curiosity won out over caution. Twenty minutes later I walked into the dining room with a refreshed Claire at my side. She’d changed quickly into a pair of white shorts and a terry tank top.

Monica was already seated at a round table near the middle of the floor, sipping amber liquid from a juice glass, when we spotted her. Claire led the way over, pulling me along by the hand.

“Good morning,” Monica greeted us. Her smile was cool, polite, and slightly distant. Her eyes met mine and lingered for an instant longer than was necessary before moving on to Claire’s. A test?

“Good morning,” I echoed as I held out Claire’s chair. I took the seat to Claire’s left, across from Monica. “Sleep well?” It sounded so stupid I almost winced.

Monica’s brow crinkled a little bit. “Very well,” she said, “from the moment my head touched the pillow. That’s unheard-of for me in a strange bed; I should probably be thanking you.”

Okay, so she was inclined to give me a break. I shrugged. “My way of giving something back to the audience.” Then I grabbed a menu before I had a chance to put my foot in it again.

We opted for the buffet, which was lavish enough that we could eat from it all week and never have the same thing twice. A uniformed chef cooked a Western omelet for me while I watched. Some hash browns and an English muffin filled the plate and looked like more than enough for me. Claire stuck close, having an omelet herself with some fresh fruit and a croissant. Monica opted for French toast, a thick slice of smoked ham, and her juice.

That awkward morning-after feeling faded slowly as we ate in companionable silence. It almost felt like a normal breakfast. Then Monica asked an innocent question: “So, are there any plans for the day?”

Claire grinned and nudged me. “That depends on Jack,” she said slyly. “I made him a proposition, and I’m waiting for his answer.”

Monica said nothing, but her face had “Oh, really?” written all over it.

“Not that kind of proposition,” I hastened to say.

Claire laughed. “Not necessarily, at least.” Then, to Monica, she explained, “I’ve asked Jack to teach me hypnosis.”

Monica’s eyebrows rose even higher. “Why?”

“Why not?” A touch of extra color seeped into Claire’s cheeks. “Seeing Jack’s show opened my eyes to what a creative mind can do. Maybe I’m looking to expand my horizons.”

“That’s fine,” Monica replied. “It’s just an odd way to expand. What would you use it for?”

“Who says I need to use it for anything? Knowledge is its own reward, isn’t it?”

“But it’s not just knowledge, is it, Jack?” Monica was looking at me now. “Hypnosis is a skill that has to be practiced. You can’t just walk up to people and start swinging a watch in front of their faces.”

“Of course not,” I agreed. “It’s definitely something you learn by doing.”

“And if you don’t know what you’re doing, it can be dangerous.”

Where was she going with this? “Sure,” I said carefully, “just as trying to drive a car without proper training can be dangerous.”

“Exactly. And that’s why you have to be tested and licensed before you can drive a car by yourself.”

Claire leaned forward. “You’re missing the point, Monica. I’m not talking about learning hypnotherapy in five days. I just want Jack to teach me the basics. I’m intrigued by it. If it turns out that I have a talent for it, and it’s something I want to do seriously, then of course I’ll get licensed, or certified, or whatever it takes. But for now I just want try my hand at it, and Jack seemed like he might be receptive to helping me do that, so I asked him.”

Monica was staring into the tablecloth, deep in thought. “You can’t learn this in the abstract, I wouldn’t think,” she said after a moment. “Who will you practice on?”

“I’ll find somebody,” Claire answered defensively. “There were a lot of people at that show last night; there are bound to be more who are curious about it and wouldn’t mind participating.”

“You’re probably right,” Monica conceded, nodding slowly. “Would you like a study partner?”

Claire’s face lit up. “You’d do that? You’d let me practice with you?”

“And me with you,” she responded. “We could take turns. Assuming, of course, that the teacher approves. Would you be willing to teach both of us, Jack?”

Two faces watched me. Claire’s was excited, hopeful, gleaming; Monica’s was cool and thoughtful, with a half smile.

“Okay,” I conceded.

Claire almost fell out of her chair as she lunged over to hug me. Monica just smiled. “When is our first lesson, Professor?”

I looked around. The breakfast crowd was pretty much gone, and the lunch crowd wouldn’t be arriving for another hour or so. “No time like the present.”

I’d caught Monica by surprise. “Here and now? Would you give me a few minutes to get my notebook?”

“Here and now,” I confirmed. “Or at least, here and after you both get back from the restroom. And you won’t need a notebook; you’ll be learning by doing.”

I shooed them off to the restroom. While they were gone, I sought out the restaurant manager, showed him my VIP key card, and told him I’d be borrowing the table for a little private instruction. He was very accommodating and promised to keep the staff at a distance while they set up for lunch.

My charges returned promptly, taking their seats with nervous little smiles on their faces.

“I could start with a long lecture on what hypnosis is,” I told them, “but you’ve both experienced hypnosis recently, so you already know empirically what it is. Besides, lectures bore me. So instead, I thought I’d start out by teaching you the Dave Elman induction. It’s a classic induction that works well for just about everybody, and only takes a few minutes to do. Sound good to you?”

They looked at each other and nodded. “But no note-taking?” Claire said. “How are we supposed to memorize the words?”

“You don’t,” I replied. “Hypnotic inductions aren’t magical formulas that put people into a trance; they’re proven ways of helping people put themselves into trance. Learning the exact words is less important than understanding the sequence of events—the mechanism, if you will—used in the induction.

“In the Dave Elman induction, for instance, there are five steps that you take the client through to lead them into a nice, deep trance in about four minutes. Step one is eye closure, getting them to close their eyes and relax the eyelids so that their eyes won’t readily open. Step two is physical relaxation of the body, basically expanding the feeling of the eyelids into the rest of the body. Step three is fractionation, having them open and close their eyes on cue, going deeper each time they do it. Step four is deepening using an arm drop routine. Step five is relaxing the mind through a backwards counting exercise. If you take someone through that sequence, regardless of the exact words you use, you’ll have completed a Dave Elman induction and your volunteer should be nicely hypnotized.”

Monica was sitting to my left, Claire to my right. I scooted closer to Monica and addressed her. “So, are you ready to be hypnotized now by me, or would you rather have Claire do it after I demonstrate the induction?”

It was a classic double bind, of course—either way, Monica was agreeing to be hypnotized. She searched my face, looking for clues of intent. I was careful to give her none; either she’d trust me or not. After a long moment, she lowered her eyes to her lap. “I’ll go first,” she conceded.

“Good.” I scooted closer and adopted a brusque, slightly authoritarian tone. “If you follow my instructions, nothing can stop you from entering a deep state of hypnosis in just a few minutes. I’d like you to start by putting your feet on the floor and hands in your lap.” Monica uncrossed her legs and put one hand on each thigh.

I was going to tell Claire to watch closely, but it wasn’t necessary—she was leaning forward in her chair, looking rapidly from Monica to me. She wasn’t going to miss a thing. “Good,” I repeated, addressing Monica. “Now, I’d like you to close your eyes. Go ahead and let them close down, and as they close I’d like you to relax the muscles around your eyes completely and totally, totally relaxed, so relaxed that when you try to open them, they will not open.” I put just a little bit of extra stress on the relaxed and they will not open. Monica’s eyes closed and the tiny muscles around them smoothed out, providing my cue. “That’s good. Now when you try to open your eyes, you’ll find that they are so relaxed that they will not open. Prove to me that they will not open.”

The muscles in Monica’s forehead twitched. I pointed that out to Claire wordlessly and continued. “That’s right, they will not open. Stop trying to open your eyes now, Monica. Stop trying and just relax. Take that relaxed feeling that you have around your eyes and let it flow down through your entire body, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Relaxing, letting go, breathing deeply, each breath bringing deeper relaxation.” Monica’s shoulders sagged and she leaned a little more into the back of the chair. Claire took note of these things as I indicated them.

I held up three fingers and mouthed the words Step 3 in Claire’s direction. “Now, Monica, I’m going to count to three. On the count of three, and only when I reach three, your eyes will open. After they open, your eyes will close down again and you’ll sink twice as deep into relaxation, twice as deep into hypnosis. One ... two ... three; eyes open, eyes closed, going twice as deep.” Her eyes popped open, staring straight ahead, and dropped closed again immediately and on cue. “Very good. Now we’ll do that again: one, two, three; eyes open, eyes closing, going twice as deep, twice as deep. And now we’ll do it again: one, two ...” I deliberately paused, breaking the rhythm. Someone who isn’t very deep, or who is faking it, will follow the pattern and open their eyes too soon. Monica’s remained closed. “Three; eyes open, eyes closed, ten times as deep this time.”

Monica’s head sagged. She was already way down there, but for teaching purposes I needed to complete the sequence. Step 4, I indicated to Claire. “Now, Monica, I’m going to help you relax the rest of your body. In a moment I’m going to lift your hand. I want you to let me do all the work while you relax and go deeper. When I drop your hand back into your lap, you’ll feel a wave of deeper relaxation flow through your whole body and you’ll go twice as deep.” Lightly, gently, I took hold of her right wrist and lifted her arm. It was dead weight. I only lifted it a few inches, then dropped it down onto her lap, saying, “Twice as deep,” as it landed. Monica’s shoulders drooped more and her head lowered almost to her chest on the first drop. After the second arm drop her left arm fell out of her lap and hung loosely at her side. The third sent her slowly teetering forward. I caught her by the shoulders and gently set her back in the chair. “Always able to remain safely seated,” I told her, “always comfortable, always going deeper with each breath.”

Claire was staring open-mouthed at her friend, one hand playing idly with the small jeweled pendant she wore. I had to wave a little to get her attention before indicating that Step 5 was about to begin.

“And now that we’ve relaxed your body, Monica,” I continued, “we’re going to relax your mind even more deeply. In a few moments, I’m going to tell you to start counting backwards from 100. As you count, I want you to imagine yourself writing the number on a chalkboard and say the number out loud to me. Then, as you erase the number, I want you to say, ‘Deeper asleep.’ Then you’ll write the next number, saying it out loud, and saying ‘Deeper asleep’ as you erase it. Each time you erase a number, your mind will go deeper and deeper into relaxation. Soon the numbers will relax completely out of your mind, and you’ll be able to just let them go. Begin counting now.”

Monica’s lips moved slowly. “One hundred,” she mumbled. “Deeper asleep...”

“Deeper and deeper,” I said, talking over her. “Mind going blank, relaxing more and more with each number.”

“Ninety nine ... deeper asleep ...”

“The numbers fading, becoming harder to remember, fading away from your mind. ...”

“Ninety ... eight ...”

“Disappearing, mind blank ...”

“Deeper ... asleep ...”

“Going deeper and deeper as the numbers relax all the way out of your mind, and sleep.”

Her lips stopped moving. I looked over at Claire, who was staring intently at her friend’s still form. “And that,” I said softly, “is the classic Dave Elman induction.”

“Wow,” Claire replied, echoing my quiet tone. “I’ve never seen Monica that zoned out. Even when she’s asleep, she’s not that out of it.”

“She’s not out of it,” I corrected. “Monica can hear and understand everything we say. She’s just too relaxed to pay a lot of attention to it unless she needs to. And right now, all Monica needs to do is relax and listen to my voice, drifting and floating, going deeper with each breath.” That was for Monica’s benefit, of course. “Right now, Monica, I’m going to talk to Claire for a few minutes. You can just ignore everything you hear until I tap you on the knee like this. When I tap you on the knee, you’ll begin paying attention to my voice again.”

Then I winked at Claire. “Any questions?”

She grinned back at me. “Can we have some fun with her?”

“In what way?”

Claire pointed to a busboy, who was busy wiping down the buffet table. “How about having her go over to that busboy and French kiss him?”

It was tempting, no doubt about it. To the user, Claire’s idea was the perfect payback for walking out on my show in the middle of the best part. But the teacher took control. “No,” I told her. “For one thing, she probably wouldn’t do it. For another, this is a serious lesson, not a stage show. And for a third, how would it be if Monica gave a suggestion like that to you?”

Claire thought about it, looking at the busboy and licking her lips. “It would be incredibly hot,” she answered. “Like last night, only more so.”

The user filed that away for future reference. “But would Monica see it that way?”

My student shook her head. “No. Monica’s too straitlaced.”

“Exactly. So all that would really do is ensure she never accepts another suggestion from you.”

Claire shrugged and gave a mock bow. “You are right, Wise One,” she intoned, hands folded.

I tapped Monica’s knee. “Soon, Monica, I’m going to count up to five. As I count up to five, you will find yourself coming out of hypnosis and back to your full waking state. You will remember clearly everything that happened while you were being hypnotized; so clearly, in fact, that you can easily perform the Dave Elman induction yourself, remembering all of the steps and the words that I used with them. This will enable you to hypnotize someone else as easily as I hypnotized you.” I did a slow five count, giving Monica plenty of time to climb up from the depths she’d reached. At five, her eyes opened and she shook her head slowly, struggling to get reoriented. “How do you feel?” I asked.

She took a moment or two to answer. “Vaguely wonky still. As if I’d been jarred out of sleep in the middle of the night.”

“It felt good, though, didn’t it?”

“Yes,” she agreed, still staring a bit into the distance. “Very good. Seductive, even.”

“Excellent,” I said. “Now let’s see how well you’ve learned. I want you to use the Dave Elman method to hypnotize Claire.”

Claire’s eyes opened wide. “Just like that?”

“Sure,” I replied. “Why not?”

“It’s okay,” Monica assured her. “I’m not going to try to make you kiss the busboy.”

Claire’s face took on a hurt look. “You were supposed to be ignoring that!”

“I was,” Monica answered, a relaxed glow washing over her face. “It was strange, hearing and remembering but ignoring.”

“And now,” I inserted, bringing Monica back to the present, “you’re ready to perform your first induction.”

“Yes.” Turning to Claire, she scooted her chair closer. “Are you ready to be hypnotized now?”

Claire looked from Monica to me, then back again. Her lips twisted into a tiny smile. “Sure. Do me.”

Monica repeated the induction almost perfectly. I crept silently around to Claire’s left, pointing out the signs of deepening trance to Monica as she followed the formula. By the end of the induction, Claire looked like a rag doll held in position by a wire run through the back of the seat.

Monica looked a question at me. “Give her the same suggestions I gave you,” I told her as quietly as possible, “and bring her out with a five count.”

She parroted my suggestions perfectly, giving Claire full memory of the trance and of how the method was used on her. Claire came up more quickly, opening her eyes at five and beaming at both of us. “It’s my turn now, right?”

Her eyes were sparkling as she waited for my answer. “Of course,” I said. Claire started to approach me, grinning. “No,” I corrected. “You’ll be hypnotizing Monica.”

Claire’s lips closed in a micro-pout, then she scooted her seat over nearer to Monica. “This hardly seems fair, since you were just done a few minutes ago,” she said to her friend, “but are you ready to be hypnotized again?”

Monica smiled. “He can’t coach you if he’s in a trance,” she pointed out. “And yes, I’m ready.”

Claire was able to point out the signs to me this time, having seen them herself already. The induction went quickly and sent Monica into a very impressive depth of trance. As I watched, free to observe without having to concentrate on progressing, I found myself growing hard at the sight of Monica’s slumping form. Such fun we could have, I thought to myself.

I let Claire finish the induction. She turned to me then and asked, “Now what?”

I smiled. “Sleep, Claire.”

A look of total surprise flashed onto her face, only to be immediately replaced as she relaxed into hypnosis. “Sleep,” I repeated. “Deeper and deeper with each breath, with each beat of your heart.” I took her down all the way. “Now, Claire, I want you to tell Monica that she will listen to my voice and obey my suggestions.”

Claire’s mouth opened. “Monica,” she intoned, “I want you to listen to Jack’s voice now and obey his suggestions.”

“Monica and Claire,” I said, “your first lesson is almost over. You have both learned to use the Dave Elman induction to place each other into a deep state of hypnosis. It is now time to receive your homework assignment. Between now and dinner time tonight, I want you to practice hypnotizing each other using the Dave Elman method. I want each of you to hypnotize the other at least three times in three different locations. And as you practice, I know that no matter how tempting it may seem, you will only give each other suggestions that will deepen trance or end it—you will learn about other suggestions later, after you’ve mastered inductions.”

I then reached over and touched Claire’s knee. “This suggestion is for Claire and Claire only: after you awaken from hypnosis, you will feel an overwhelming need to go over to the busboy and give him a long, passionate french kiss. That need will continue to grow, becoming the most important thought in your mind, until you do it. Once you’ve kissed the busboy you’ll thank him and the need to kiss him will be completely gone and the suggestion ended. Your conscious mind will not recall this suggestion until after you’ve kissed the busboy and thanked him.”

I gave them a nice, slow five count and brought them out of it. Monica stretched and yawned, her face looking beautifully relaxed and content. Claire stood up and stretched, her eyes scanning the buffet table.

“Looking for something?” I asked innocently.

“No,” she said, totally unconvincingly. “Is that the end of the lesson?”

“Yes,” I confirmed. “You have the rest of the day to do your homework. Let’s meet back here at, say, seven?”

Monica nodded, grinning at me with our secret knowledge. Claire’s head just bobbed slightly, her eyes still scanning the buffet. Finally the busboy appeared, broom and dustpan in hand.

“That’s fine,” Claire said. “Excuse me a second.” She walked briskly around the table and over to the working busboy.

He saw her coming, stopped sweeping, and started to speak. I couldn’t hear the words, but it had the look of “May I help you?” or something similar. The look on his face when Claire wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body into his was priceless. Then she kissed him. Their lips stayed locked for a good 30 seconds. The busboy went from total surprise to getting into the spirit of it, letting his hands run down her sides and cupping her bottom.

She let him go and took a step back. I could see her jaw move in thanks, and then the lift in her shoulders as she gasped with the memory returning. Her entire face and neck were flushed crimson when she turned back to us and then fled in the direction of the restroom.

“That was evil,” Monica scolded me.

“I know.” Our eyes locked, and I thought I detected half a smile on her lips.