The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive


AN: This story is intended to be enjoyed as a fantasy by persons over the age of 18—similar actions if undertaken in real life would be deeply unethical and probably illegal. © MoldedMind, 2019.

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“How did you find me?” He asked, settling himself in front of her on the loveseat across from the armchair he’d offered her. He leaned forward across the low end table, extending a glass of water to her.

She blushed as her fingers brushed his around the glass cylinder as she took it from him. “Followed the rumour mill,” she answered, with an awkward laugh. “You may have ended your stage show, but from what I heard, you took to serving a more elite clientele.”

“I don’t even do that anymore,” he said, his voice caressing the words. “I am retired. I took my earnings and wiped myself off the map… or so I thought.” His eyes were on hers again, deep dark eyes. They were so dark they were nearly black, and the only light in them was the flickering of the fire.

“You should have gone through your network and wiped yourself from everyone’s minds,” She said, her mouth dry with fear. The intensity of his gaze made her squirm in her chair.

“I did,” he replied, quietly. “I think you’re not telling me everything.”

Her cheeks burned at that, and she tried to avert her eyes—but found she could not, for whatever reason. There was something about his eyes that made her want to keep looking—if she stared hard enough, perhaps she could plumb their depths.

“You heard of me before I decided to disappear,” he ventured. She swallowed. It was uncanny to see him guess the truth on the first try. “And knowing of me before, you hung around old colleagues just to see if you could spot the chink in their minds, that place where I’d broken them and smoothed them back together.” He cocked his head back, leaning into the loveseat as if he was completely at ease.

She shivered as she watched his lips form the word “broken.” The content of the previous sentence was nearly too much for her.

“You’re a hypnotist yourself, aren’t you?” He said, for the first time wearing a smirk.

“Not professionally. Only as an amateur,” She scrambled. Coming here tonight had been a mistake. He was very good at making her feel uncomfortable.

He stared at her, not giving her the relief of a response. “I am,” she went on. “And I was quite a fan of yours… before you ended the stage show.”

“You were never on my stage,” he said, dismissively. “I would have remembered your face.”

“No,” She agreed. “But I went to nearly every show you did. It inspired me to become a hypnotist myself.” She felt like a joke, saying those words to him. She’d seen him drop so many people, so many times—how could she compare?

He remained silent, and she went on. “When you retired, I wanted to find you. I heard rumours for the first few weeks, then everything dried up. I went around, hypnotizing your old colleagues, but all they could tell me, after a lot of work, was that you had hypnotized them to forget who you were. You didn’t exactly leave a forwarding address.”

He only continued to stare at her.

“You did leave a paper trail though,” She added, taking a sip of her water. “You may have erased your presence from the minds of everyone whoever met you, but the paper copies of the various hotels you stayed at still existed. I studied them extensively, until I could make a guess as to your pattern of hotel choices and I’ve been following my own predictions for months now, hoping to get lucky. I did.”

He snorted. “Clearly. Well, what is it you so desperately wanted to find me for? Let’s see if I can guess this one, too. You want access to my old professional networks—you want to work the black-market scene too. Or you wanted to start your own stage show, or there’s this handsome man who won’t give you the time of day, but you just can’t seem to drop him—”

“I wanted to see if I could hypnotize you,” she admitted, in a quiet voice.

To her surprise, he did not burst out laughing at her. Instead, he only raised an eyebrow.

“You’re something of a checkpoint for me,” she confessed. “If I really can get you, then I’m a much better hypnotist than I thought, and maybe I can make a go of this. I am skilled, but it can be hard to find a suitable challenge. You would be.”

He nodded, the expression on his face conceding it wasn’t so insane after all.

She stared at him in shock. “You’re not going to tell me that you can’t be hypnotized?”

He scoffed. “Of course not. Every good hypnotist can be hypnotized and must recognize it in themselves. I’ll certainly allow you to try. It would be cruel to send you away after your exhaustive search.”

He cracked his knuckles, pushing his two interlocked hands away from him, before allowing his arms to come back and rest at his sides again. “Are you ready?”

She swallowed. “I… suppose.”

He looked at her patiently. She had wondered if he would suggest a method, or question how she would do it, but he only remained silent, staring at her, waiting.

Shakily, she pulled a chain from her jacket pocket. He nodded his approval. “A reliable method, especially for a beginner as yourself.

It was a simple gold chain, with a flat, round coin shaped pendant at its base. She gripped the end of the chain, and with her other hand, set it swinging.

“Watch the chain,” She instructed, and graciously, he complied, his eyes passing back and forth, following the arc of the pendant, from left to right.

She watched his eyes, seeing the reflection of the pendant in the low firelight reflecting there. His eyes moved together with great precision, not like some of her other hypnotic subjects. With him, it was like the arc was made up of dozens and dozens of points and as he followed the arc, his eyes latched on to each one in turn.

The mixing of the firelight and the gold of the pendant warmed the colour of his eyes, and they didn’t seem quite so black now.

“I’m going to induce you now,” She said, shakily. “Think of the movement of this chain as windshield wipers, and as it passes from side to side, it wipes your thoughts away. The less you think, the more relaxed you feel.”

His eyes followed the pendant obediently, and her eyes were fixed on his.

“But in that metaphor, the rain is driving down on me,” he said, his eyes still following the trail of the pendant. “As long as the wipers are going, as long as the chain is swinging, thoughts are still coming to me, and so it is impossible to relax.”

Damn it, he was right. She hadn’t thought that one through enough. “All right, bad example. The more the chain swings, the heavier you feel. Each time the chain passes back—” her eyes were on the pendant just for a second, as it pulled at the end of the chain, entirely still, against gravity, for just a second—“the weight of your mind increases, becoming heavier. As your mind is weighed down, you become increasingly sleepy, growing more and more relaxed with each pass of the chain—” the chain was at the furthest point of the arc again, immobilized, creating the illusion of defying gravity entirely, and then it was over, and it was swinging back towards her again.

“I see,” He spoke, his voice a deep rumble. “The more the chain swings, the heavier I feel,” he spoke. The tone of his speech made her shiver. The cold indifference of earlier had melted, just like the look in his eyes, to total suffusing warmth, and it was off putting. She could see the pendant in his golden coloured eyes. Everything was warm. “Each time the chain passes back, the weight of my mind increases, becoming heavier. I am becoming increasingly sleepy, growing more and more relaxed.” His tongue practically caressed each word as he spoke them.

“I become especially sleepy, and relaxed, when the chain hesitates at the end of its arc, don’t I?” He asked. She nodded absently, her eyes on the end of the arc once again. When the chain swung back again, she looked back into his eyes.

“There is something about the hesitation there that is completely thought stopping,” He continued, his voice a low purr.

“Yes, completely thought stopping,” She agreed, watching the pendant swing in his eyes. She was glad he was co-operating with her.

“One can’t help but become entirely thoughtless for that second of free-fall, before gravity takes over.”

The chain had hesitated again, and it distracted her from nodding along as she watched it, so improbably holding still in mid-air.

“Then of course, the chain swings back again, reminding the subject of the inevitability of it all,” he commented. “The chain stops, stopping all thought, before continuing its inevitable swing, which of course reminds you that there is no escaping trance. It is coming for you, coming closer and closer with each swing of the chain, and with each hesitation of the pendant you sink deeper.”

Confusion was beginning to set in. She was supposed to be hypnotizing him, wasn’t she? The pendant was moving in his eyes—he was the one following it, she only looked when—

It stopped again, before falling back into the arc. “You’d better keep your eye on it, to make sure you don’t miss it stopping. It only holds still in the air for a second, and if your eye isn’t right on it, you’ll miss it.” He suggested.

“I’m… supposed to… you’re…” The chain stopped again, and she forgot what she had been trying to say.

“Don’t worry about anything,” He purred. “You’re doing so well now. Such a good girl for me.”

She let out a small moan at the phrase of encouragement, but didn’t look up. Her eyes were locked on the coin pendant now, watching it swing, and stop, and then swing again.

“The more you watch it, the harder it becomes to think,” He instructed her, and she found he was telling her the truth. There were things she was supposed to remember… she was supposed to be doing something right now, to him, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the pendant, swinging and stopping, swinging and stopping. Each time it stopped, and held, an eternity seemed to pass, a thoughtless, silent eternity, before finally it swung again.

“Each time the pendant stops your thoughts, the harder it is to think again,” he murmured. “And it feels so good not to think and to slip so easily into trance for me. It makes you so wet, doesn’t it?”

She could only moan in response. There wasn’t a single thought left in her head. All she could do was watch the swinging pendant, open mouthed. The pendant was sagging as her body went boneless, but his hand wrapped itself around hers, and he took the chain, and stilled the pendant.

All thought stopped, and she could only stare at the immobile pendant. In her mind’s eye, it was not hanging straight down—it was hanging at the highest point of the arc, completely still, about to swing down again.

“You are completely free of thought now, aren’t you?” She nodded, slack jawed, her eyes still seeing the gravity defying pendant in her mind.

“That’s wonderful,” he said, pride in his voice. “The longer you go without thinking, the more you can feel yourself getting hot. It’s so sexy, so delicious to have no thoughts in your head.”

She couldn’t respond, could only sit slack jawed, staring, feeling her pussy gushing beneath her skirt, her nipples aching against her shirt.

“Show me how good it feels,” He said, and as if she knew exactly what to do, she slipped a hand under her skirt to her naked pussy and began stroking leisurely, while her other hand slipped under her shirt to fumble for a nipple.

“That’s right, pretty girl.” She felt a hand stroking her hair now and shivered. “Follow your body to where it wants you to go. Show me how much you love it when I stop your thoughts.”

He lowered the pendant, but she didn’t need it anymore. The image of the frozen pendant was stuck in her mind, until he told her to stop looking at it, and the longer she looked at it, the hotter it felt. She was incapable of anything but moaning, and she let out a long moan of pleasure as her hypnotized body found the perfect rhythm.

Each second intensified the pleasure painfully. There was no thought, she was incapable of thought, but second by second her pleasure ratcheted up notch by notch, and what had begun as long luxurious strokes through her inner folds had become desperate sawing and rocking.

“The pleasure only draws you deeper,” He intoned, and she cried out as the intensity increased again. She was moving impossibly fast now and—he spoke a word she did not hear, but suddenly she was convulsing in orgasm, screaming from the depths of it, feeling it singing through her muscles. She collapsed forwards, out of the chair, falling forwards, but he caught her, and lifted her over the table, until the two of them were sitting on the loveseat, she was leaning against him for support. She was completely and totally relaxed, unable to move at all.

“Wake for me, Anna.”

She sat up, feeling refreshed, the memory of the past five months clear in her head. The frantic search for him, the false mission, and turned to look at him.

“How was it this time?” He asked. “Was that closer to your fantasy?”

She shuddered in an aftershock of pleasure at the memory of it. “Definitely closer… but I think it can be perfect… And we should definitely make sure to erase the paper trail this time. It’ll be harder for me to find you, but… we really do want to be impossible to find,”

He gave her a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll give you a failsafe again this time, my dear. If you don’t find me on your own, there’ll be a rendez-vous point in 3 months where we will meet up.”

She leaned closer, pressing a kiss against his lips. “Give me one night first. It’s been a long five months, and I have to go at least three more before I’ll see you again.”

“That is the drawback to your fantasy, love,” He said, his eyes warm with affection again. “Although as we agreed, playing the fantasy out this way makes sure our trail is airtight. So I really can be retired, and living my life with you as I want to be.”

The two kissed again, passionately. He brought his lips to her ear. “Drop for me, and tuck all those lovely memories away in your sleeping mind, remembering to forget everything about our life together and our history, only remembering to remember that you must find me, so you can hypnotize me as a challenge…”

* * *

She’d done it. She’d been searching for James Hampton, the retired hypnotist for three months, and finally she had found his hotel by complete accident. She’d only meant to pass through this town, but she’d spotted him by chance in the lobby. It was a good thing. She hadn’t had a single clue as to his whereabouts in the past three months of her search. Not one person in his old network remembered him, even under hypnosis… no hotel in the world had a record of him staying there in the past decade.

But there he was, crossing the lobby to the elevator. She scrambled in behind him, pretending to ignore him as he pressed the button for his floor.

Slowly, the elevator began to climb, stopping at the 6th floor. He stepped out, and she waited a few seconds to step out to follow him. He passed to the door of his room without looking back, and when the door he’d disappeared through closed behind him, she stepped up and knocked firmly on it.

“James Hampton, the retired hypnotist?” She asked, and his eyes widened.

“You’d better come in, if you know my real name. Sit down, I’ll grab you a drink.”

She seated herself in a hotel armchair, and as he passed her a glass of water, their eyes met properly for the first time, and she couldn’t help but blush as her fingers brushed his.

“How did you find me?” He asked.

Nervously, she swallowed her fear, and replied.

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