The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Doug Peterson looked up from mowing the front lawn to see his neighbor watching him from the front porch of her house.

He didn’t mind. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. Mrs. Garner was something to watch herself, dark red hair in a tight bun framing a model-pretty face; a really incredible rack and a slim waist over broad hips and long, tapering legs flowing into small feet. He’d noticed her before, and he’d actually had hot daydreams about her from time to time, especially since she liked to wear clothes that showed off her body. At the moment she was wearing a tight white halter top with a deep neckline, equally snug black spandex leggings and glossy white high-heeled shoes. Green-tinted cat’s-eye sunglasses covered her eyes and a chain necklace looped around her neck. A small teardrop-shaped ornament dangled from the necklace on a short chain of its own, nestling in her cleavage.

After a minute or so, he realized he was staring at her chest. Face flaming, he forced himself to look down at the mower he was pushing, stop clenching and unclenching his hands on its handlebars, take a normal grip and start pushing it again. He was still distracted, though, and every time he stopped for a moment to catch his breath and wipe sweat off his forehead to keep it from dripping into his eyes he’d sneak another look at her. He suspected she had noticed, but she didn’t seem to be bothered, so he didn’t worry about it.

He stopped again. God, it was hot today! He promised himself that as soon as he finally finished he’d get himself a tall glass of iced tea. Or maybe two or three, he thought.

Suddenly, surprisingly, his attractive neighbor called out to him. “Excuse me,” she said. “Would you like to come inside for some iced tea, or maybe lemonade? You look really hot.”

Doug looked around. No, there was no one else nearby she might be talking to. “I, I’d like that,” he stammered. “Thank you very much.” He left the lawnmower where it was and headed over to the Garners’ house. Like his own family’s home, it had two stories, a sloped roof and a roofed-over cement porch; five steps led up from the front walk.

“Come on in,” Mrs. Garner said as he mounted the steps. She gestured toward the open front door. He stepped inside and sighed gratefully as he entered the air-conditioned living room.

“Please sit,” urged the redhead, waving one shapely arm toward a comfortable-looking couch against one wall. Doug sat, draping his right arm over the couch’s backrest. He brushed his straw-blonde hair back, trying to make himself look more presentable. He wanted to impress his hostess as much as possible.

“Now, what would you like, honey?” Mrs. Garner’s voice was warm and soothing. “We have tea, or I could make lemonade. Or iced coffee.”

“Tea, please.” Doug smiled, relaxing against the couch. “Sugar, but no lemon?”

“Of course,” came the response. “You just wait right here and I’ll be back in a minute.”

It wasn’t quite a minute, but it couldn’t have been more than five before the redhead came back, bearing two tall glasses full of ice and orange-brown tea. There was a low table a couple of feet in front of the couch, with two coasters and an unused-looking ashtray on it; she set the glasses down carefully on one of the coasters and then sat on the couch at the opposite end from Doug, facing him. She took off her sunglasses and left them on the table as well. Her eyes, the college student noticed, were nearly the same color as their tinted lenses.

“Mrs. Garner,” he started, I—!”

The redhead shushed him. “Olivia, please.” She smiled. “And what’s your name? I think it’s no much friendlier when people know each other’s names. And I do so want us to be friends.” She leaned slightly toward Doug.

He gulped. It couldn’t be, of course, but it almost seemed as though she were coming on to him. With an effort, he collected himself. “It’s Doug, ma’am. I, I mean Olivia.”

“Now see?” his hostess said. “Isn’t that better?” She reached for her tea, raised it to her lips and took a sip.

Doug nodded. “Yes, uh, Olivia.” He picked up his own glass and took a swallow, trying not to just gulp it down.

“Now then, Doug honey”—Doug blushed at the intimate way she’d addressed him—“let’s get to know each other better.” Doug could feel his blush deepen, and Mrs. Garner laughed. “Let’s just talk for a while and enjoy our tea and the cool air in here.”

Doug nodded. “Okay.”

Mrs. Garner started, talking about her husband, who apparently had died several years ago, and about the house and her various interests. Doug talked about his family and how things were going at school. His eyes gradually drifted down from her face to her breasts. At first, he’d pull them back up quickly when he realized what was happening, but after a while he forgot about doing so. His end of the conversation began to trail off as he lost himself in the view.

Olivia Garner smiled. Doug Peterson was a thoroughly good-looking young man: tall, athletically built, with straw-blond hair, blue eyes and, after several weeks in the sun, a healthy tan. He was very polite, too, and very respectful. She didn’t know his family, but by all appearances he was used to doing as his elders told him to. That had probably made it easier for him to accept her invitation.

And he was fixated on her breasts. She was used to men gawking, and usually found it unpleasant. With Doug, though, it was different. It kind of turned her on. He wasn’t just looking; he seemed genuinely unable to keep his eyes away from her chest, and that gave her a feeling of power she found arousing. She had a sudden wicked idea.

Still making small talk, she reached up casually with her right hand to pull her necklace sideways and a little forward, letting its teardrop pendant dangle between her index and middle fingers. She twitched those fingers just enough to set it swinging gently, back and forth, back and forth. As it swung it turned a little, first to the left, then to the right. Light from the ceiling fixtures bounced off it in rhythm with its motion. It was just far enough out of Doug’s line of sight that he’d be able to see it only out of the corner of his eye unless he turned his eyes toward it; as long as he kept looking at her breasts, all he’d register would be glints of light and a hint of motion, just enough, she thought, to be disorienting. Could she do it? she wondered. Could she really hypnotize him?

Her smile widened. It couldn’t hurt to try, she thought. It’ll be fun even if it doesn’t work. And even if it doesn’t, if I’m careful he won’t suspect a thing.

Doug tried to focus on what Mrs. Ga—no, Olivia, he reminded himself—was saying. It was so hard, when he couldn’t look away from her breasts even though there were these annoying flickers of light and movement coming from his right, just at the corner of his eye.

“You look tired, Doug dear,” the redhead murmured. Somehow, she seemed to have slid closer to him. Her left arm was draped casually over the back of the couch. “So tired. You must have gotten so hot outside, pushing that mower around in this weather. Such a good boy, to keep up with chores like that while your parents are away, even though you got so hot and so tired.”

“Yes,” Doug replied. “It was . . . really hot.” And he really was tired, he thought. After working so long in the heat outside, he felt himself relaxing in the cool of Mrs. Garner’s air-conditioned living room. He leaned back against the couch cushions, still facing his hostess, still staring at her chest but glancing sidewise again and again, pulled by the movement and flashes of light he could sense but couldn’t quite see without looking away from those beautiful breasts. His eyelids were starting to droop; it was an effort to keep them open, but he didn’t want to fall asleep in Olivia’s house, right in front of her. That would be rude.

Watching her youthful guest, Olivia Garner felt a rush of excitement. It was working! Doug was visibly slumping into the cushions and fighting to keep his eyelids propped open. His eyes were locked on her chest but kept twitching sideways toward the pendant gently swaying and turning between her fingers, and every time it flashed for a moment with reflected light, he’d blink, even though he wasn’t really able to focus on the small ornament since he’d have to turn his head to do so and that would take his eyes off her bosom.

“So tired,” she murmured. “You’re so tired, aren’t you, Doug dear, and it’s so relaxing to just sit here with me on this nice soft couch in this nice cool room and listen to me, isn’t that right.”

“Yes,” Doug answered softly. “So tired. It’s so relaxing . . . to just sit here . . . and listen.”

“I bet you’d just like to close your eyes, just close your eyes and fall into a deep, deep sleep right here with me on this nice comfortable couch in this nice cool room.” Olivia’s voice was soft and soothing.

“Yes,” her guest agreed. “A deep, deep sleep.” He yawned. His eyelids closed further, but behind them his eyes kept flicking back and forth, from her breasts to the pendant he could just sense at the edge of his vision.

Olivia slid closer to him and slid her left arm gently around his neck, letting her hand rest on his shoulder. She turned toward him, which brought the gently moving pendant in her other hand more fully into his view. “But there’s something bothering you, isn’t there, Doug? Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“It’s that, that,”—he struggled to remember the right word, and failed—“that thing in your hand, going back and forth, back and forth.”

“And why does my pendant going back and forth, back and forth bother you, honey?” Olivia was sure she knew the answer, but she wanted to see whether Doug would tell her.

“Because it distracts me from looking at your tits,” Doug blurted out. His eyes widened with sudden renewed awareness. “Oh God, did I say that out loud?” He blushed a deep red. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I don’t know why I—!”

Olivia laughed gently. She knew why. “Don’t be embarrassed, honey.” She smiled reassuringly. “I like it when men look at me.” That wasn’t true in most cases, but her youthful prey didn’t need to know that. “Especially handsome young men like you. It’s very flattering, especially since I know you’re such a good boy and would never do anything to upset me. So I don’t mind if you look at my tits”—she wouldn’t normally use that word, but repeating it after her guest had done so would, she was sure, help him accept that he’d done nothing wrong and so could relax—“as long as you stop when I tell you to. Do you understand, Doug honey? Tell me if you understand.”

“Yes, I understand.” The captivated college student’s head bobbed gently up and down.

“Then just relax, Doug dear,” the redhead soothed. “You can keep looking if you want. I won’t mind. You can keep looking, even though your eyelids are so heavy now from staring at my breasts and even though the flashes from my swaying pendant make them feel even heavier, so heavy, and you’re so-o-o sleepy here on this nice comfortable couch with me. You can keep on staring at my breasts, or if your eyes are too tired you can just relax into the nice soft cushions and close them. And if you close them, Doug honey, you’ll still see my breasts and my pendant, and they’ll be the only things you’ll see, and you’ll still hear my voice, and it will be the only thing you hear, because you don’t need to see anything but my breasts and my pendant right now, or hear anything but my voice, and I’ll tell you when you need to see and hear other things and what to see and what to hear. You can do what I’m telling you to do, Doug, because we’re neighbors and we’re friends and you trust me completely. Tell me, Doug dear, if you understand everything I’ve said and accept all of it completely.”

“Yes.” Doug’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I understand everything you’ve said. I accept it all completely.”

Olivia frowned. “Doug,” she chided, “please use my name when you’re answering me. You’ve been forgetting to do that. Do you understand what I want?”

“Yes, Olivia,” Doug responded in a clearer voice. “I understand. Use your name when I’m answering you.” He nodded.

“Good boy, Doug honey.”

Olivia let go of her necklace, allowing it to drop back into its usual position—she clearly didn’t need its pendant’s help anymore—and exulted. It had worked! Her handsome young neighbor was totally in her power! He’d do anything she asked, believe anything she said. Almost certainly she could make him forget anything she didn’t want him to remember, and perhaps she could also make him remember things she did want him to remember even if they hadn’t actually happened.

She knew just what she wanted him to do, too, and what she wanted him to remember afterwards. She smiled wickedly. But first, a little question-and-answer session was in order.

“Doug, honey, close your eyes completely now,” the redhead commanded. Doug obeyed: his eyelids stopped fluttering and dropped shut. “Tell me what you see.”

“Yes, Olivia. Your breasts,” sighed the entranced young man. “They’re gorgeous. And your pendant.”

“Thank you,” Olivia replied, pleased at his compliment. Doug couldn’t help it, of course—at the moment he didn’t even know what he was saying—but it was nice to hear, just the same. “But you don’t need to see my pendant anymore. I’ve put it away.”

Doug nodded. The pendant disappeared from his reality.

“And what do you hear?”

“Your voice, Olivia,” came Doug’s programmed answer. “Only your voice.”

“That’s right, Doug dear. Good boy.” Olivia continued: “Doug honey, do you understand what’s happened to you? Do you know what I’ve done to you?”

“No, Olivia,” Doug replied calmly.

“I’ve hypnotized you,” the redhead explained. “You’re completely hypnotized. You’re deeply, deeply under my power, deep, deep in a hypnotic trance. And because I’ve hypnotized you and you’re in a deep hypnotic trance, you’ll do anything I want, anything I tell you to do, and you’ll tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth when I ask you a question, no matter how embarrassing it is, because we’re friendly neighbors and you trust me completely and know I would never tell anyone else what you tell me unless you said I could. Do you understand me and agree to do everything I’ve asked you to do?”

“Yes, Olivia.” Doug’s voice sounded perfectly normal now; no one listening in could have known from its tone or volume that he was completely oblivious to everything but the woman speaking to him. “I understand. I agree to do everything you ask me to do.”

“That’s good, honey. That’s very good.” Olivia reached over and ruffled Doug’s hair. She was sitting quite close to him now. “Now I want you to tell me something very personal, something you might be embarrassed to tell anyone else. But you can tell me, because we’re friendly neighbors, very friendly neighbors, and you know you can trust me not to laugh at you or get mad or tell anyone else. And besides, after you tell me, you’ll forget you did, so there won’t be anything to be embarrassed about. Nod your head if you understand and will tell me what I want to know.”

Doug nodded his head.

“Very good,” Olivia assured him. “Now Doug, do you have any secret fantasies, any sexy secret fantasies? You can tell me, if you do. You must tell me, if you do; you can’t help it, because, remember, you’re totally hypnotized and in my power.”

“Yes, Olivia,” Doug replied calmly. The scarlet-haired seductress smiled. If Doug had been awake, he’d never have admitted any such thing, and would have blushed and squirmed at the very question. His response proved how deeply under her spell he was now. The realization made her breathe faster. God, the power she had over him!

“Do you have any about me, Doug?” Olivia smiled reassuringly. “It’s all right if you do. I know you’re a healthy young man, and I’ve seen you looking at me before. Tell me if you have any sexy fantasies about me.” If he didn’t, she’d just have to create one for him. By now she was pretty sure she could do that. She was also pretty sure she wouldn’t need to.

“Yes, Olivia,” Doug confessed. He smiled back. “Sometimes I have daydreams about you.”

“Good boy, Doug honey.” She ruffled his hair again. “I’m so pleased that you feel so safe with me that you’d tell me that.” Not that he could possibly have refused, but never mind. This was turning out to be every bit as fun as she’d hoped, and they hadn’t even gotten to the climax—thinking of what she planned to do next with her young toy, she smiled at the inadvertent pun—yet.

“Now Doug, I want you to tell me all about your favorite fantasy about me. I want you to describe it carefully: how I’m dressed, how I’m wearing my hair, what I say, what I do. Don’t leave anything out. Tell me all about it, Doug, tell me now. If you tell me now, I can make your fantasy come true. You’d like that, wouldn’t you. So tell me now about your fantasy.”

Doug did. As he spoke, he developed a visible erection. Listening, Olivia felt heat flash through her body. It wasn’t the most original fantasy, she thought, but her young neighbor was so enthusiastic about it!

Finally he finished. Smiling, Olivia addressed him: “Thank you for being so honest with me, Doug. I’m very pleased with you.” She drew a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slowly. “Now I want you to picture me just like in your fantasy, exactly like in your fantasy. That’s right; make it real in your mind.” Doug shivered and his erection swelled; very obviously he was doing as she’d suggested.

“Now, honey,” she continued, “in a moment I’m going to snap my fingers. When I snap my fingers, you will open your eyes. And when you open your eyes, you will see me exactly as in your fantasy. You will be in your fantasy, completely in your fantasy, and everything you see, everything you hear, everything that happens to you, will be perfectly real to you, Doug, real in every way, and you won’t question it, because you don’t want to question it and because you don’t need to question it because you know it’s real.”

Doug nodded, accepting Olivia’s instructions. “Yes, Olivia,” he agreed.

“Good boy,” his naughty neighbor responded. She stood up, moving carefully out from between the couch and the table. “Now, Doug, I want you to stand up. Stand up and face me, following my voice to know where to turn.”

Doug obeyed, rising to his feet with his eyes still closed.

Olivia watched him, reaching to guide him to make sure he didn’t trip. When he was safely upright and facing toward her, she snapped her fingers.

Doug Peterson opened his eyes and gasped. There in front of him stood Olivia Garner—dressed not as he had last seen her but in a fetish version of a policewoman’s uniform, tightly fitted over her body, with jacket and shirt parted to show massive cleavage and stiletto-heeled riding boots replacing regular police footwear.

“Well, boy?” she said sternly. “What have you got to say for yourself?”

“I, I, I, I don’t know what you mean,” he stammered. “Say for myself about what?” He didn’t understand what was happening. They were still in Olivia’s living room, but suddenly she wasn’t his familiar neighbor but instead a stern cop who seemed to be questioning him about something, only he had no idea what, and whose uniform looked like something out of a porn magazine. He couldn’t help staring. His mouth dropped open and he could feel himself beginning to drool. Lower down, his pants were bulging with the biggest boner he’d ever had. Cop-Olivia frowned. “What are you gawking at, boy?” She tapped her nightstick impatiently against her left palm. She seemed to be more pissed at him for ogling her than for his not answering her earlier question, whatever it had been.

He couldn’t help himself. “Your tits,” he moaned. “I’m gawking at your tits.” A moment later: “Oh, no! I did it again!” He still remembered what he’d blurted out to his well-endowed neighbor before she’d suddenly turned into a pornographic policewoman. “Please, I’m so sorry, officer, I didn’t mean—!”

“Fresh, too, on top of uncooperative?” she barked. “You’re coming with me!” She put the billy club away and produced a pair of handcuffs. “Hands behind your back! Now! And stand up straight!”

Doug obeyed. He pressed his wrists together. He felt strong female hands fasten the cuffs around them. He was frightened—and at the same time desperately horny. He was sure that if his hands had been free he’d have been beating off, despite the lady cop. Or because of her.

Olivia Garner walked around the unmoving Doug Peterson, inspecting her handiwork, and gloated. Her bedazzled boy toy was standing stiffly upright with his hands behind him, obviously quite convinced he was in handcuffs. His pants tented. His eyes were wide and glassy; his mouth hung slackly open and a thread of saliva hung from one corner. He was clearly completely immersed in the fantasy she had drawn from his mind, and deeply, helplessly aroused.

She didn’t blame him. She was getting pretty hot herself. Now for the really good part, she thought feverishly.

“Now, Mister Peterson,” she said sternly, staying in character, “come along with me, and don’t try anything.”

“Now, Mister Peterson,” the gorgeous policewoman admonished the intimidated but aroused Doug, “come along with me, and don’t try anything.” She tapped her nightstick against her palm impatiently.

“Yes, officer,” Doug agreed. It wasn’t as though he could “try anything,” after all, with his hands cuffed behind his back and the lady cop ready to beat the hell out of him.

Back in the real world, Olivia smiled. She’d been tapping her finger against her palm as she spoke, and Doug had responded as though it were something to fear. What’s he seeing? she wondered. A gun? A billy club? She could ask later, she supposed—not now, it would disrupt the dream he was experiencing.

Doug allowed Officer Garner—he couldn’t think of her as Olivia now, not when she was in uniform and was apparently arresting him—to grasp his arm and tow him along. Her grip seemed awfully gentle considering her stern attitude, but it didn’t matter; he came along meekly. Apparently she was taking him back to the precinct.

But they didn’t go there. They didn’t even leave the house. Instead, the sexily-dressed policewoman towed him out of the living room and down a hallway toward a room with an open door. They stepped through.

It was the bedroom. Puzzled, Doug asked, “Officer, why did we come in here?”

Olivia Garner smirked. Oh, you’ll come in here, she gloated silently. More than once, if I have my way. And I will. She pulled her necklace out again, letting its pendant swing gently on its chain just as she had before, but this time directly in front of her youthful plaything’s eyes. There was no need for subtlety or subterfuge now.

“Doug, listen to me,” she said. “Watch my pendant as it swings gently back and forth, as it turns first one way and then the other while it swings, watch the pendant as the light glints off it, watch the pendant and listen to me carefully. Nod your head if you understand and will do as I say.”

Doug nodded, confused. Something was happening. Officer Garner was doing something he didn’t understand, something he wouldn’t have expected from a cop, something to do with the shiny object—he still couldn’t remember the word for it, but it didn’t matter—moving back and forth in front of him and sending glints of light into his eyes. But it wasn’t important, he decided. All that mattered was watching that shiny object and listening carefully to her.

Olivia chuckled. Everything up to now had been just the setup for what she really wanted. Now it was time for the main event. But first, she needed to bring Doug out of the fantasy and closer to the real world—but carefully; he had to be aware of what was really happening to him or it would be no fun, but he couldn’t be allowed to awaken from trance altogether. That would spoil everything.

“Doug,” she addressed him, “listen carefully. I’m not really a policewoman. You’re not really being arrested. That was all just a fantasy about me, one you’ve had before. It’s just that this time you didn’t know it was a fantasy because I hypnotized you and made it real for you.

“Now you’ve left the fantasy behind, Doug, you’ve left the fantasy behind, but you’re still hypnotized, only you don’t know you’re hypnotized. You don’t remember being hypnotized for real; you think that you were just dreaming about me hypnotizing you and making your fantasy real for you, making you think that I really was a policewoman, a very sexy policewoman, and I was arresting you and you were scared but turned on too, very turned on. You’re no longer dreaming, but you really are completely under my control and will do anything I tell you to do, and you’re still really turned on. Do you understand, Doug?”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied the captive college student. He nodded. “I understand. I really am completely under your control and will do anything you say.” He moaned. “And I’m still . . . oh God . . . really turned on.”

Perfect, Olivia thought gleefully. He sounds as though he’s wide awake. Submissive and crazy for sex, but not hypnotized, perish the thought!

“Now Doug,” she chided, “you know I told you that you can call me Olivia. I want you to call me Olivia until I tell you to call me something else.”

“Yes, Olivia.” Doug bobbed his head up and down in agreement.

“Now Doug, honey, you asked why we were in my bedroom.” Olivia smiled. “What do people usually do in the bedroom?”

“Sleep?” Doug hazarded.

Olivia pouted playfully. “I’m disappointed, Doug honey. I thought you had more imagination. What else could a man and a woman do in here?”

The college student blushed bright pink. The answer was obvious, but he couldn’t believe that was what she meant. “Have sex?”

“That’s right, sweetie.” Doug blushed even deeper. She kept doing that, calling him “sweetie” and “honey” and things like that as though he were her boyfriend or something. Not that I’d mind, he thought. He grinned. His face faded toward its normal hue.

Olivia inspected her handiwork. Yes, she thought, he was definitely ready. Awake enough to be aware of what was happening around him, but still ready to obey her without question. His own mind would supply any explanation he needed. And he was unmistakably aroused; besides the erection tenting his trousers, he was now breathing roughly and rapidly, and the grin on his face was definitely that of a man in lust. Not that she’d have needed to hypnotize him for that. The trance had merely let her strip away his inhibitions about acting on his desires. And, of course, control him completely after that.

“That’s right,” she went on. “That’s exactly right, Doug honey. And I can see, just looking at you, that you want to have sex with me, right now.” She laughed, a low, throaty sound.

The blush came back. “Yes, Olivia. I want to have sex with you. Right now.” The admission emerged in a low voice, almost a whisper.

Olivia laughed softly. “Don’t be embarrassed, Doug honey. It’s perfectly natural for a healthy young man like you to want to have sex. And I don’t mind that you want to have sex with me in particular. I want to have sex with you, too. Right now. Right here. That’s why we’re here.” Of course it was. If she hadn’t wanted him, why would she have invited him into her house in the first place? Surely not just to cool off in her living room. She’d meant to seduce him in the usual way; the hypnosis had just been improvised once she’d noticed how he’d been fixated on her breasts. She’d been surprised—amazed, actually—at how easily it seemed to come to her and well it had turned out to work. It had all just flowed naturally, as if she’d been preparing for it all along without knowing it, and Doug had drifted under as though doing so were something he’d wanted all along. Maybe it was, she thought.

“Now honey,” the redhead purred, “I want you to help me undress. Help me undress, Doug, and I’ll help you get out of your clothes too.” She stepped toward Doug, took hold of his hands, which had been hanging limply at his sides, and planted them against her midriff, right where the short halter top ended and her bare flesh began. “First, help me out of this top. You’ll be rewarded for helping me, because you’ll get to touch my breasts while you’re helping me get off, er, get it off.” She raised her arms over her head.

Her slip of the tongue went right past the dazed Doug Peterson. “Yes, Olivia,” he murmured. As she had suggested, he began peeling the halter up. And as she’d promised, his hands slid over her breasts while he pulled it up. Once it had slid above her head, she shimmied it off the rest of the way and let it fall to the floor. She wasn’t wearing a bra; she didn’t need one. Her large, firm breasts defied the tug of gravity all by themselves.

“Now, Doug sweetie,” she announced, “it’s my turn. Just stand there, that’s right, just stand there and think about my breasts and let me work.”

“Yes, Olivia.” Doug relaxed and stood unmoving as Olivia reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly, taking her time. Her breathing quickened as the shirt opened, exposing Doug’s muscular chest and belly.

Presently all the buttons were open. Olivia spoke: “Now, Doug, I want you to take your shirt off. Just slip out of it, that’s right.”

“Yes, Olivia.” Doug obeyed calmly, leaning forward just a little as he slipped his arms out of the sleeves and then straightening again, letting the shirt fall. It landed on the edge of the bed.

“Now get out of your shoes, Doug,” the redhead instructed. “Sit down on the bed and take them off. When they’re off, put them here”—she gestured toward a small dresser which stood against one wall, flanked by two picture windows with drawn gauze curtains, “and come back and stand right where you are now.”

The now shirtless Doug Peterson followed her instructions. Two minutes later he was once again standing before his all-too-friendly neighbor, awaiting further instructions. It didn’t bother him that he was automatically doing everything she said; he was too excited about what was happening, and about what was clearly about to happen.

“Now I’m going to help you out of your pants, honey. Just stand right where you are. I want you to feel it as I work on your belt and your pants, feel pleasure as I work, feel even more pleasure as your pants drop to your ankles. And when they do, you’ll step out of them, pick them up, put them with your shoes and come back here.”

“Y-yes, Olivia,” gasped Doug, already experiencing the sensations his mesmerizing mistress had commanded him to feel. He did as she had instructed.

Olivia Garner heard the blood pounding in her ears as she stared at the helplessly hypnotized young man who, just a little while before, had been just a good-looking neighbor to whom she’d been attracted. Now he was totally hers to command and stood before her clad in nothing but underwear and socks—and thought he was freely choosing to obey her every suggestion. And when she was done with him, she could send him home with no memory even of her inviting him into her house. Of course, that wasn’t quite what she had in mind . . . !

But that was for later. Maybe—she smirked—quite a bit later.

“Now, Doug honey,” the housewife turned hypnotist said, “it’s your turn again. I need you to help me out of these tight pants.” She kicked off her high-heeled shoes and plopped down on the bed, sitting on Doug’s discarded shirt, then took hold of Doug’s wrists and pulled him forward and down, guiding his hands to the waistband of her glistening black leggings. She didn’t need to tell him what to do next; he took hold and began to pull.

When the leggings reached her knees, she gently tugged Doug’s hands away and finished the job herself, pulling the stretch pants the rest of the way and stepping out of them. For a moment she simply sat there, breathing heavily and staring at the bulging front of Doug’s briefs. They were both nearly naked now, and both strongly aroused. There was no doubt, however, which of them was in control.

What remained of their clothes came off quickly after that. When they were both completely nude, Olivia commanded, “Now Doug, I want you to stand completely still until I tell you to move. Stand completely still and think of nothing at all until you hear my voice again. And when you hear my voice, you’ll do exactly what it tells you to do, because you’ll know that’s what I want you to do and, remember, you’re completely under my control and must do whatever I say. Do you understand, and will you obey?”

“Yes, Olivia.” Doug nodded. The limited consciousness to which he’d been returned faded away. He stood straight, arms at his sides, erect penis jutting in front of him. His mind was empty, awaiting his mistress’s next instructions.

The redhead walked around her spellbound subject, admiring his muscular young body. She reached up to ruffle his hair playfully; he didn’t react but instead continued to stare ahead of him with glassy eyes. Finally she spoke.

“Doug honey,” she said, “you can move now. You can think now, but you’re still completely under my control and must do exactly as I tell you, exactly as I suggest. Do you understand, Doug?”

“Yes, Olivia,” the mesmerized male in front of her agreed calmly, nodding. Of course he was hypnotized, he thought. Of course he had to do whatever the woman facing him wanted. She had said so, so it was true.

“Then Doug,” the redhead purred, “you know what you must do next. You know what I want, and I can see that you want it too.” She placed her hands on her plaything’s bare shoulders and eased down onto the bed, pulling him gently down with her. A little maneuvering and she was resting comfortably lengthwise on the bed with Doug atop her, pinned between her legs. Propping herself up with her right hand, she used her left to lift Doug’s head and guide it down until his face was buried in her cleavage, then began grinding against him.

Doug Peterson had never actually had sex before, but his body knew what to do. It didn’t need any instructions from his mind, which was just as well, since at the moment his was barely functioning. He rocked with his partner, thrusting into her again and again until he came explosively. Olivia’s cry from beneath him showed that she had climaxed at the same moment.

It worked, the redhead gloated as she drifted in post-orgasmic warmth beneath Doug’s relaxed form. Her handsome neighbor might never have gone to bed with her if she’d merely tempted him in the ordinary way; after all, she was his family’s neighbor, older than he was and a widow too, and no matter how she’d come on to him all of that might have been too intimidating. But once she’d guided him deeply into trance, none of that had mattered.

She lay there for a few minutes cooling off and catching her breath. Then, ever so carefully, she slid out from under Doug. Halfway to genuine sleep, he whimpered softly.

Olivia eased over and murmured, “Don’t go to sleep, Doug sweetie, not just yet. You need to be awake, because there’s more I want you to do for me and you must do everything I want. And you know now, don’t you, that when you do what I want it feels good, it feels better than anything you’ve ever done before, and you want to do it again and again, and you’d want to do it even if you weren’t still completely under my control. Now turn over, that’s right.” Doug turned over, lying flat on his back, looking upward with half-closed eyes.

Olivia straddled him, squeezing his hips with her thighs and pressing his shoulders down with her hands to support her as she arched her back. She sank down, taking him into herself, and began rocking her hips from side to side. He moaned and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer and burying his face in her breasts again. He began thrusting mechanically, his rhythm controlled by her motion. Finally he stiffened and spurted explosively into her, his cry of ecstasy muffled by the soft flesh mashed against his face.

Panting and soaked with sweat, Olivia collapsed on top of her spellbound steed. By now, her head was little clearer than his; it was only after several minutes of rest that she swam languorously back to full consciousness. Once she was aware of reality again, she inspected Doug and was pleased to see that he was still drifting peacefully, not quite asleep but with his eyes closed and a smile on his lips. There had been the barest chance that he might have been jolted out of trance by their exertions, and a much greater one that he’d have simply passed out from exhaustion.

Rolling off him, she sat on the edge of the bed trying to decide whether she wanted a third round.

Reluctantly, she decided against it. Doug had to go home sometime, after all, before he really did pass out—or she did. There’d be other opportunities. After all, he’d told her his parents wouldn’t be back until Labor Day. That gives me plenty of time to, ahem, get to know him better, she thought with a silent chuckle.

But that meant it was time to wrap things up. Smiling, she prepared herself.

“Doug, honey, listen to me. Open your eyes, that’s right, open them all the way, yes, just like that, and listen to me.” Olivia’s voice seemed for a moment to come from very far away. He opened his eyes fully and saw her bending over him, dressed now in a thin bathrobe which clung to her body, accentuating its curves. The robe was open enough to show a generous amount of cleavage. She was wearing her necklace again, too.

“No, no, sweetie,” the redhead teased. Her voice sounded normal now, warm and friendly. “Look at my face, Doug dear, my face. I know you like to stare at my breasts, you told me you do, but I need you to look at my face right now, look into my eyes and listen to my voice. Will you do that for me, Doug dear?”

“Yes, Olivia.” Doug’s gaze swung from Olivia Garner’s chest to her face and locked onto her bright green eyes. He listened carefully for her next words.

“It’s time for you to get dressed, Doug,” Olivia said. “Get up now, Doug dear, get up and put your clothes back on. When you’re all dressed, come stand in front of me and I’ll tell you what to do next.”

“Yes, Olivia.” Doug obeyed, rising to his feet, collecting his discarded clothing and putting it back on as though he were simply getting up in the morning. Then, as instructed, he walked over to stand facing Olivia where she waited by the side of the thoroughly rumpled bed.

Olivia inspected him. After a moment, she reached out and lightly brushed his mussed hair into place. She nodded. He’d do.

“Good boy,” she said. She took his hand in hers. “Now come with me.”

Doug nodded. Of course he’d come with Olivia. Why not? Especially after what they’d done with each other. He allowed himself to be led back into the living room.

The redhead gestured at the couch. “Sit down, Doug honey. Just sit, and look at me, and listen to my voice. Yes.”

“Yes,” Doug echoed. He sat, looking up at Olivia as she stood over him.

The redhead began playing with her necklace again. Little flashes of light winked out at him, forming slow arcs as the necklace’s pendant swung slowly back and forth like the pendulum of a clock. It seemed to the dazzled Doug that he could even hear it ticking as it swung. He followed the motion with his eyes.

Watching him, Olivia smirked. He might be nearly awake now, but he was helpless against her pendant. It would be easy now to guide him back into a deep trance, She needed that for what she wanted to do now.

She spoke. “That’s right, follow my pendant as it swings, back and forth, back and forth. And as you follow the motion of my pendant, Doug, feel yourself relaxing, sinking deeper under my control, yes, that’s right.

“Lie down now Doug, that’s right, lie down on the nice soft couch, flat on your back with your head on the armrest, and close your eyes.” Doug obeyed, and Olivia went on: “Imagine you’re sinking gently into a warm, still pool, a swimming pool. You’re seeking deeper. Deeper. And when you reach the bottom, you’ll feel completely relaxed and comfortable and you won’t worry about being at the bottom of the pool because you know I’m going to bring you safely back up very soon. And now you’re there, lying on the bottom of the pool, comfortable, relaxed and safe.”

Doug sighed, submerging in the fantasy.

“Now Doug,” continued Olivia, “In a few moments I’m going to bring you back up, and when I do, I’m going to wake you up completely, free of my control.” She smiled and went on: “But before I do, Doug honey, I need to give you some instructions. You’ll obey those instructions even though when you wake up and are no longer under my control you won’t remember I gave them to you. Do you understand, and will you obey?”

“Yes, Olivia.” Doug was floating at the bottom of the warm pool Olivia’s words had created for him, gently bobbing up and down, bouncing gently off the pool’s tiled floor, no longer aware of the world around him except for his beautiful friendly neighbor and her voice. And even her voice seemed slightly distorted, as though it were reaching him through water. “I understand. I’ll obey your instructions . . . even though I won’t remember . . . you gave them to me.”

Olivia smirked. Her oblivious neighbor was almost ready to go home. But there was something she needed to get first. She stood up, walked into the kitchen, rummaged around in one of the cabinets and drew out a small notepad and a pencil. She carried them into the living room and set them down on the coffee table. Then she turned her attention back to the handsome young man lying on her couch.

“Good boy, Doug.” The voice penetrated the spellbound college student’s mind. “Now don’t try to talk anymore. Remember, you’re lying at the bottom of a nice warm swimming pool. It’s very comfortable but you mustn’t talk; you’d swallow nasty-tasting chlorinated pool water and choke.” Of course, he’d been talking just a moment before, when he was already supposed to be on the bottom of his imaginary pool, but his hypnotized mind didn’t register the contradiction.

Doug obeyed the suggestion and took it one step further: he held his breath, just as he would have if he’d really been underwater.

Olivia saw, and frowned. Doug was a little too far into the swimming-pool fantasy. Either he’d finally gasp for air, which would break him out of it and might possibly even wake him from trance, or he’d black out. She’d better hurry.

“Doug, she addressed him, “when you come up out of the pool and I wake you up completely, you won’t remember what happened here between us. All you’ll remember is falling asleep on my couch and having a hot dream about me. And the more you try to remember the dream, the more it will fade.

“You will go home and go about your ordinary life. But if I invite you over to my house, either face to face or on the phone, you’ll come over. It will seem perfectly natural to come over, because after all we’re friendly neighbors. And when you come over, you’ll feel relaxed and comfortable and you’ll pay careful attention to everything I say and do, because you’re polite and obedient to your elders.”

Don was starting to turn red now. Under her spell, he was still refusing to breathe. Time to finish up, Olivia thought.

“Now Doug, feel yourself rising gently from the bottom of the pool. I’m going to count backward from five, and when I reach ‘one,’ you’ll be floating on the surface and ready to wake up. I’m counting now: five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one.”

As the sound of “one,” Doug gasped and started breathing. His eyelids fluttered, almost opening.

“No, no, Doug,” the housewife hypnotist standing over him chided. “Not yet. You’re ready to wake up, but you’re not awake yet, you mustn’t wake up until I touch your shoulder to wake you up. Do you understand, Doug? You can talk now; you’re not underwater anymore.”

“Yes, Olivia,” Doug responded in a soft voice. “I understand. I’m ready to wake up, but I must not wake up until you touch my shoulder.”

“Good boy, Doug.” Olivia smiled down at the captivated college student on her couch. She had a sudden thought: “Now Doug, there’s one last thing I need you to do for me.” She smiled. “You do have a cell phone, don’t you? Please tell me if you do.” It was a pretty safe bet these days, but still, you never knew. Her hypnotized plaything hadn’t had one on him.

“Yes, Olivia,” came the answer she’d expected. “I have a cell phone.”

“Good boy, Doug. I thought you did.” She went on: “As soon as I wake you up, I’m going to ask you for the number. You’re going to tell it to me, and you’re going to write it down, too, so that I can call you privately. Then you’ll forget you gave it to me. But if I call you on your cell, you won’t wonder how I got your number. It will seem perfectly natural that I have it. Do you understand, Doug, and will you do as I’ve told you to?”

“Yes, Olivia.” Doug bobbed his chin. “I understand. I will do . . . as you’ve told me to.”

“Wonderful! You’re such a good boy!” Olivia reached down to ruffle Doug’s hair. “Now, Doug, I’m going to shake your shoulder, very gently, to wake you up. When I do, you’ll wake up completely. You won’t be hypnotized anymore. But even though you’re no longer hypnotized, and even though you won’t remember being hypnotized, you’ll do everything I’ve told you to do.”

“Yes, Olivia,” Doug agreed.

“That’s a good boy,” Olivia said. “A very good boy. Now I’m going to wake you up.” She reached down and gently shook his soldier, just as though she were waking him from an ordinary nap.

Doug Peterson opened his eyes and yawned. That felt good, he thought. I must have needed it.

Suddenly he realized where he was. ‘Oh my God!” he burst out. He sat up bolt upright and swung his feet to the floor.

Before he could hurl himself off the couch, Ms. Garner bent down and rested her hands lightly on his shoulders. “It’s all right, Doug honey. Everything’s all right; just relax.”

Doug relaxed, feeling reassured. He still felt embarrassed, though; he could feel his face burning. He’d really done it; he’d actually fallen asleep after all, right in Ms. Garner’s house! “Please, I’m so sorry. I never—!”

Ms. Garner laughed. Doug tried to ignore her breasts jiggling, and almost succeeded. “It’s all right,” the gorgeous redhead assured him. “You must have been really hot and tired from mowing your lawn under the sun. When you nodded off, I just made you comfortable and let you sleep.”

Speechless, Doug nodded.

Olivia made a show of looking at the clock on the wall. She didn’t really need to; she knew what time it was. “Oh, my.” She smiled down at Doug. “How the time flies. You’d better be getting home, Doug dear.”

Doug looked at the clock. Quarter to five?” He couldn’t believe it. He’d been here more than two hours! “Y-you’re right,” he stammered. “And I didn’t even finish the lawn!”

Olivia laughed softly. “Don’t worry about it.” She looked at him intently. “You can always finish up tomorrow, maybe early in the morning so it won’t be so hot.” She looked thoughtful. “And maybe you could do my lawn too sometime. Would that be okay?”

“I guess,” Doug answered. “You could call me when you wanted me to do it.” He told her his number. Spotting a small notepad on the coffee table with a pencil beside it—That’s funny, he thought, I didn’t see that there before.—he wrote his number down. He put the pad down and promptly forgot he’d given Ms. Garner his cell number. He no longer noticed the pad and pencil.

Olivia gently guided him to her front door, then watched as he made his way down the steps and across toward his house. Like the conscientious young man he was, he stopped along the way to pick up the lawnmower he’d left sitting on the lawn. Once he’d put it away, he went into his house and shut the door.

The redhead gloated silently. Her young neighbor had provided her with quite an enjoyable afternoon but now had no idea what he’d done. Or what he’s going to do, if I have anything to say about it, she thought. And I do.

Doug Peterson shook his head. He couldn’t get over the way he’d just passed out on Ms. Garner’s couch. And—he could feel himself blushing; he seemed to have been doing a lot of that this afternoon—it was a good thing his friendly neighbor didn’t know what he’d dreamed about while he was asleep. She might not be so friendly if she did. For that matter, he couldn’t really remember the details himself—they seemed to fade more and more the harder he tried—but he knew it had been about her and had been really intense. He wished he could have it again. But what were the chances of that?