The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chloe knows Dr Mitchell only wants the best for her, but is changing her entire personality really necessary?

Disclaimer: All characters are entirely fictional and all resemblances to anyone in real life is entirely coincidental. If you are under 18 or offended by sexual material, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Dr S. Mitchell. Hypnotherapist ⧫ Life coach ⧫ Counsellor.
~ For a better life. For a better you. ~

Diversion Tactics

By Sinistra

‘So tell me, Chloe. Why have you come to see me today?’

Dr Mitchell was even more astonishing in person. As well as well-spoken she was beautiful, with dark eyes, dark hair, cherry coloured lips, and a mediterranean complexion.

Chloe had braced herself for the Doctor to put on an annoyingly breathy, flowery hush in order that would help to gently explore her deepest insecurities but that would only end up pissing her off, but instead it was like a thorny rose; sharp, vibrant, rich. She stared at the white ceiling. Apart from the sofa she lay on, an armchair, and a coffee table, there wasn’t much else in the room. A few plants enjoyed the thin natural light that shone through the window—and paintings of forest glades and waterfalls were hung on opposite walls. Today Chloe wore her blonde hair up in a bun, and was dressed in blue jeans and a beige jumper. Already Dr Mitchell spoke as if they were familiar, and something about her demeanor was vaguely off-putting. Chloe’s hands fidgeted in her lap. ‘I saw your reviews online. They looked almost too good to be true, but my friend said she’d heard you were good, so—what the heck. Here I am. My problem is . . . I have a wonderful boyfriend.’ she laughed to herself. ‘He’s not the problem, by the way. His name’s Matt. He’s sweeter than anything else in the world, and he’s organised a holiday for us in the Summer, in Malta. I think he’s going to propose. It’s just—it’s so far away—and I . . . I’m scared of flying’ she admitted quietly.

Dr Mitchell frowned. A phobia. Shit. They were tough enough to resolve usually, but ‘flying’ was a whole other kettle of fish. It was too . . . complex, too abstract to be done cleanly. But Dr Mitchell was not the type of woman to give up on a project before she had even begun. There had to be a way. There always was. Something flashed behind her eyes. ‘Oh honey, that sounds wonderful. You’re a very lucky girl. Now, Chloe, I know you’re nervous, but please be assured that this kind of thing is perfectly normal and, luckily for you, something I can easily remedy with a few sessions. I would say one per week over the next three weeks. Has your boyfriend organised these for you?’

Chloe shook her head. ‘He doesn’t know.’

‘That’s for the best. In my experience, one of the least helpful things you can do is talk to someone else about hypnotherapy, or any other sort of positive change. It’s important to remember that you’re doing this for yourself and yourself only. This has to be a change that comes from within—alongside my guidance of course—otherwise, if your boyfriend were no longer able to support you, you would need to be able to support yourself. And that’s what this is all about. You.’

Chloe nodded. ‘So I shouldn’t tell him?’

The Doctor smiled sympathetically. ‘You wouldn’t want to make more of a hassle, would you?’ Dr Mitchell watched her intently. Chloe nodded. ‘Good girl. I think it’s best kept between you and me.’ Chloe’s restless fingers had calmed, and now lay crossed on her lap. ‘Unfortunately we don’t have unlimited time, so I’ll explain how this is going to work. You have probably seen it in films or television where a victim of hypnosis becomes a mindless zombie, or something of the sort. Unluckily for me this is the real world, otherwise I’d be sunbathing in the Bahamas with a multi-billionaire husband. Besides, I like my own victims with a bit of resistance left in them.’

Chloe laughed nervously, still rather tene. ‘What if someone . . . finds my . . . what do you call it? Trigger Word?’

Dr Mitchell’s eyes sparkled. ‘As I said earlier, true change comes from within. No one can make you do anything you don’t actually want. And everything we do together is entirely confidential. I hope that reassures you.’

‘Yeah. Thank you.’

‘That’s wonderful. Now, I haven’t got any spirals or deep whale sounds or anything like that, so you’re just going to have to put up with my voice for the next, oh, 45 minutes. Does that sound like something you could do?’

‘Yeah.’ Chloe chuckled, and sunk into the sofa.

And Chloe couldn’t remember when her eyes had fluttered shut, but now she was blissfully alone, but for the soft, velvety caress of Dr Mitchell’s voice. It slowly enveloped her, inch by lovely inch, and then she was gently lifted her higher and higher and higher, and now she was weightless, now she was floating in the lovely warmth of the Doctor’s voice, and it felt so good to just listen. Her mind had wandered off, but she didn’t care, because now she was held in the nicest, warmest embrace of all. So cosy. So nice. Just her and the Doctor, and nothing else. A Doctor to make her feel better.

‘You’re doing very well Chloe. Remember, you will only achieve your desires if you listen to and trust me. Is that understood?’

Chloe nodded languidly, her chest rising with every breath.

‘Good girl. Take my hand, Chloe. Don’t worry, you’re safe with me. Good girl. You might not know this, but all your fears and all your desires are locked safely away in your subconscious. Locked behind a series of walls, barriers, chains, designed to keep you safe. Chloe. Do you feel comfortable to continue?’

‘Yesss…’ Chloe murmured dreamily.

‘Good girl. We won’t get anywhere if you’re not willing. You need to be willing and able for this to work, Chloe. You need to follow my voice. The Doctor knows what’s good for you. You’re perfectly safe, you can totally relax with Dr Mitchell. Very good, you can trust me, Chloe. Just do as I say. It feels natural to relax to the sound of my voice. We’re walking further down now, Chloe. Enjoy this feeling of freedom and weightlessness. You won’t find this anywhere else. You enjoy this feeling of freedom, don’t you Chloe?’ Dr Mitchell said sweetly. Each lilting syllable was like a bath of fluttering petals submerging Chloe’s mind, teasingly delicate.

‘Mmmh, I like it.’ Chloe sighed.

‘Good girl. We’re at a wall now, blocking our path to your subconscious, your deepest held truths. We need to get past it. Look what is says. SHAME. How unsightly. Watch what happens when I speak. Watch it melt, dissipate, crumble. Gone. You feel so free. Remember, only I can make this door go away. What is the door doing now, Chloe?’

Chloe licked her lips. ‘M . . . melting…’ she murmured. ‘Whenever you speak to me.’

‘Good girl. Now this is important. Listen closely…

* * *

‘ . . . remember our conversation. Good girl. Let my voice guide you higher and higher . . . feeling your hands . . . your feet . . . the cool air on your skin. Welcome back, honey.’

Chloe let out a deep sigh. She had this nice feeling, nicer than she thought was appropriate to admit. Her eyes slowly lifted open. ‘Wow. Has it been an hour already?’

Dr Mitchell glanced at the clock which had been ticking silently. ‘Yep, on the dot. How do you feel?’

Chloe shivered. ‘Wonderful. What do I owe you?’

Chloe was already rummaging through her purse before Dr Mitchell opened her mouth to speak. ‘This one is already paid for, remember?’

A sheepish smirk spread across Chloe’s face. ‘I meant for the next two.’

* * *

‘Welcome back, Chloe. How have you been since last week?’

This week Chloe was wearing a stylish black turtleneck, and a chequered skirt which clung nicely to her hips. A ring of pearls around her neck and black suede boots completed her outfit. ‘Not great actually. Me and Matt have been through a bit of a rough patch.’ She laid her purse on the floor and hung her coat on the peg.

‘That’s awful. I’ll do what I can to soothe your nerves. You’ll be okay, I know it.’

Chloe broke out in a melancholy smile. She knew she could trust Dr Mitchell. ‘Thanks. Really.’ She sat herself on the sofa, as Dr Mitchell put down a steaming mug of coffee on the table.

‘That’s alright. Now, let’s see what’s under that skirt.’

Doctor Mitchell’s honey-coated voice felt so lovely and sweet, and before Chloe knew what she was doing she was lifting up the hem of her skirt and sliding it up her delightfully creamy thighs. ‘What?’ Her eyes widened in a sweet cocktail of horror and confusion, but she didn’t stop. She knew couldn’t stop even if she tried. ‘Stop it. Why am I doing this. Why am I doing this?

‘Shhh, be a Good Girl and spread those gorgeous legs. That’s it. Come on now. I need to see how well you pick up suggestion. Come on, that’s the way.’

Chloe fixed her with a helpless look of panic. ‘Please, don’t ignore me. I can’t stop. Why can’t I stop it?’

Dr Mitchell continued to ignore her. ‘Chloe, you’ve made remarkable progress. You should be proud of yourself.’

Chloe’s eyes flicked from her rapidly diminishing modesty to Dr Mitchell, whose eyes at this point seemed at risk of falling out of their sockets. ‘I don’t want this.’ she pleaded. Already she could feel her mind begin to drift away, content in the warm velvety feeling that made her feel so warm whenever she looked into Dr Mitchell’s eyes or heard her lovely voice. Why did it make her feel so good? If only she was able to-

‘Chloe, you have to trust me. How can I help you if you choose to hide the truth from me?’

Chloe hesitated, looking around the room. ‘I don’t know!’ she wailed pitifully. Her cheeks flushed with colour as she displayed herself lewdly to the woman in front of her. Her skirt was now bunched around her waist, utterly exposing her baby-bald pussy. What? Where are my panties? I—I put them on this morning, I remember it clear as day. Don’t I? She breathed heavily, a warmth spreading through her as Dr Mitchell feasted her gaze on the sweet fruit. Why am I letting her do this? Why aren’t I screaming in panic? Where the fuck are my panties?

‘Perfect, Chloe, you remembered! You’re doing so well.’

‘Wha—okay. Can I stop now?’

‘No, Chloe. Enjoy this moment of total freedom. Relax. You musn’t let your anxiety get in the way of things, Chloe. It’s important you take in what I say. I just want the best for you. I want you to feel safe.’ Dr Mitchell knelt down before her, getting more than an eyeful of her flushed nether lips. She place one hand gently on the girl’s bare knee. ‘But first you have to admit that you want this. If you want any hope of conquering your phobia, you must break through the shame, the embarrassment . . . all your inhibitions, in fact. You can only make the improvements you want when you . . . you really . . . get to the crux of the fear, its root, deep . . . deep between . . . sorry, inside your subconscious. You have to, uh . . . open up. That’s the way.’ Goosebumps bubbled on Chloe’s skin as Dr Mitchell trace her fingernails up her thigh. ‘I just need to make sure . . .’

Chloe’s face was red as beetroot as she felt the Doctor’s hand creep higher and higher. What would Matt say if he was here? He would probably break up with me. I’m a bad girlfriend. I can’t believe I’m behaving like . . . like this Chloe’s lip trembled in trepidation. Her thoughts were consumed with guilt, but she still felt strangely calm. At least she was safe. She knew she could trust Dr Mitchell, but that did nothing to stop her confusion. This wasn’t proper, she barely even knew this woman! If only she could stop herself . . .

The Doctor’s hand floated higher, her fingers lightly grazing the soft flesh of her labia, and then stopping to rest above her clitoris. Chloe gasped, gripping the sofa cushions with white-knuckled hands. Dr Mitchell held her finger there, until she noticed a trickle of moisture swim down between the girl’s moist lips, and drip onto the sofa. ‘Good girl.’ she said tenderly. Suddenly she stood up, and poured a mug of coffee. ‘That’s great Chloe, you’ve made fantastic progress. I think we can get started now. Are you ready?’

Chloe stared ahead for a few seconds, before hastily pulling down her skirt and lying back on the sofa. What just happened? It wasn’t painful, whatever it was, but it couldn’t happen again. If it really was as wrong as she suspected, surely it wouldn’t feel so nice. Right? Besides, no one would ever have to know. She was just glad it was over. I’ve already paid for this session. Might as well get my money’s worth. ‘Yeah.’

‘Very well.’ Dr Mitchell said, placing her mug quietly on the table. ‘Let us begin.’

* * *

‘Chloe, honey. Chloe?’

Chloe felt gentle waves lapping at her, dragging her back with tender strokes to the real world, gently reminding her to wake up, that she couldn’t feel this good forever.

‘That’s it. Wakey wakey. There’s a Good Girl.’

Chloe raised her head groggily but instantly felt herself pulled back into the sofa. ‘Mmm. That is the . . . quickest hour I’ve ever enjoyed. Thank you.’

Dr Mitchell’s eyes sparkled. ‘The pleasure is all mine.’

* * *

Chloe tried to ignore the stolen glances of the receptionist as she sat in the waiting room. Ever since she had started wearing her skirts shorter and dresses more often, men, and even some women, had been sneaking looks at her all week. It was Dr Mitchell, it had to be. She knew it, because every time she went to her wardrobe, buy some clothes, pull down the hem of her dress, she felt herself slip into that lovely, cosy feeling that meant the Doctor was working her magic, and she would put on those heels, or buy that cute skirt, or flash a charming smile. She hated it. She hated how good it made her feel. She knew she had to trust Dr Mitchell, she knew she wanted the best for her, but surely this was unnecessary! It was ruining her work life, her relationships, and it had to stop.

* * *

‘Chloe, how are you feeling since our last meeting?’

Chloe slumped on the sofa with an exhausted sigh, and rubbed her eyes. She wore a turquoise figure hugging dress and 3-inch sandy-coloured platform shoes. ‘Not great. Things haven’t got better with Matt, and everyone is looking at me funny.’

Dr Mitchell raised an eyebrow over her glasses. ‘Oh?’

Chloe covered her face with her hands. ‘He’s being so unreasonable. I don’t know what’s got into him recently. Over the weekend I was out shopping and I . . . I saw a couple of pretty dresses . . . but when he saw them, he said that we didn’t have the money, that we were meant to be saving for the holiday. I told him I couldn’t help it. We had an argument. He’s always looking over my shoulder at who I’m texting. He hates it when I smile at strangers on the street. I think he thinks I’m cheating. He thinks I don’t care. He doesn’t understand.’

Dr Mitchell smiled warmly. ‘Chloe, you are a wonderful girl, and Matt is very lucky to have you, but some men simply won’t understand such things. Please don’t worry, these things are perfectly normal in every relationship. In no time at all you’ll find there’s nothing to worry about.’

Chloe looked at her hopefully. ‘Really?’

‘You can trust me, Chloe. What else were you going to say?’

Chloe slumped back onto her cushion. ‘Why do I have to dress like this? I like trousers. They’re professional. Now I can’t stop wearing cute dresses—and wearing skirts . . .’ she squeezed her thighs together. ‘. . . makes me all excited. I feel like I have to smile at every pervert on the street, even when I want to smack them. I hate it.’

‘Chloe that’s great to hear. It’s obvious you’ve really taken to the conditioning. It’s important to remember why you’re doing this, and don’t lose faith in the process when we’re so nearly finished. It will never work without your cooperation. Is that understood?’

Chloe shifted in her seat. ‘I guess. But I still don’t get why you’re do—’

‘Honey, I know this will be hard for you to understand, but let me try my best. Hypnosis bypasses all those pesky thoughts and inhibitions, prohibitions, everything that you think makes you you. But really, deep down, all your actions, instincts, inner truths—that’s what’s important. That’s where your fear dwells. We need to bypass those inhibitions, the societal conditioning, to make any lasting impact. I’m a professional, Chloe, you can trust me, you can trust what I say. That’s what’s important, that you feel safe with me, and that you follow my advice. When you’re not in trance, you might feel embarrassed or scared or anxious. These feelings hate your freedom and love and joy. They want you to be trapped, paralysed, unhappy. But that’s why you like trance so much, right? Fear comes from thinking too much, over thinking, panicking—let it go. Leave the thinking to me. Can you do that for me?’

Chloe felt her head nodding. It was getting so heavy.

‘Good girl. Now, let’s get started.’

* * *

‘Chloe. Chloe? That’s it. That’s the hour. We’re done.’

Chloe struggled to lift her eyelids. She didn’t want to go. ‘No . . .’

‘Chloe, that’s all we have booked. I’d love to stay here, but I have other clients. Let’s not end on a low note, yeah?’

Chloe groaned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘This is our last session.’

‘What? You mean . . .’

‘Yeah. You did it, Chloe. You killed your fear.’

‘Already? But I don’t remember . . .’

‘Trust me, Chloe.’

‘Okay.’ Despite the initial joy she felt as succeeding, at conquering her fear, a deep sadness threatened to overwhelm her. She needed these sessions, but she also had to trust Dr Mitchell. What could she do? ‘But what . . . what if I’ve got some subconscious thing . . . y’know . . . that I don’t know about yet?’ She looked at the Doctor pleadingly.

Dr Mitchell pretended to think about it. ‘Chloe, you’ve been a great customer, but I couldn’t ask you to pay any more in good faith. I know what’s best for you.’ Something flashed behind her eyes. ‘How about this.’ she said, rummaging around in her bag. ‘Dr Mitchell and Chloe may not be able to meet on a professional basis anymore, but perhaps Mistress Sapphira and Chloe . . . I’ve got a show in a couple of days, how about you come down and watch the performance?’ She handed Chloe a card, a swirling astral design behind some plain white text flanked by the silhouettes of two nude women making generous displays of their figures.

Chloe held back a giggle. ‘Mistress Sapphira? You’re—’ she began, an eyebrow raised. What was this, some erotic lesbian show? It would be nice to see Dr Mitchell again, but this really wasn’t the kind of-

‘Only the most incredible show-woman in the Northern Hemisphere! Trust me, honey.’

Chloe took it gingerly between her fingers, slipping it into her pocket. She looked back up at the woman who had brought her so much happiness, and any sort of let herself melt in Dr Mitchell’s intoxicating gaze. ‘I’m sure . . . what you say is true, but this really isn’t my sort of thing, sorry. But thanks anyway. For everything.’

‘Ah well, your loss. Oh, actually there’s one more thing. Come closer . . . that’s it, listen closely now.’

And suddenly Chloe was very, very dizzy and then everything went black.