The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

(Note from author: This story, as well as any others in this series, was posted on the Tickling Media Forum as Michael2002 and the Erotic Mind-Control Archive as Michael McMann. If you happen to see any (or parts) of these stories posted elsewhere, know that it was not posted with my permission and may their web server shut down on them for stealing credit for something that was not theirs. If you are under 18, this is probably not suited for you. However, I started this whole series when I was 17, so I’d probably be a hypocrite if I told you that you weren’t allowed to read this. Plus, there’s nothing I can do to stop you from reading it, so it’s your choice.)

Hypno-tickling

“You can’t do it.” Rachel challenged.

It was one of those hot summer afternoons and my girlfriend and me were hanging out at my parent’s house. We hung out at the backyard pool talking about whatever. Then, a particular topic came up.

“I don’t believe that you can hypnotize me.” She was 5′4″, golden blonde hair, great curves and wearing her royal blue bikini under a pink tank top and cut-off shorts. We’ve been friends for a while, but personally I call her my girlfriend in my mind. I don’t ever mention it to her though. My parents were out of the state and my sister was at a friend’s house at a party or something. We lived in one of those large houses that didn’t have neighbors living in earshot distance.

Rachel may be beautiful, but she isn’t one of those girls that likes being treated like an item. She cuts no crud from anybody. On the other hand, she is usually quiet and shy when I’m around.

“In fact, I bet you that if you can’t hypnotize me, I dare to see you go skinny-dipping in that pool there.” Now, usually I don’t like betting or being challenged. However, I’ve been studying on hypnosis for a long time now. I’ve imagined again and again what it would be like to actually have someone under my will. Imagining and doing are two different things, though.

She sat on one of the pool chairs, giving me a coy smirk. “You up to it?”

Again, I couldn’t pass this opportunity up. “Alright.” I replied. “But I want to do this inside. It’s too darn hot out here.” Rachel thought for a moment and agreed. We decided to do this in my room.

Fortunately, my parents had air-conditioning. I let her take her socks and shoes off. Then I put a couple of pillows to prop her head up when she laid back. Then came the unfortunate part. We had the comfortable environment; I had her willing to be hypnotized. Unfortunately, no matter what I read, no matter what I tried to see, I’ve never been actually able to figure out how to do an induction.

I ran over all the steps in my mind. To induct, first I had to get the person to relax. She rolled her eyes. “Come on, O Wise One. I’m already waiting.”

“Okay,” taking a deep breath in and out. “Try closing your eyes at least.” She probably still didn’t believe I could do it, so she complied willingly. She placed her hands on top of her stomach.

I had Rachel start with a few deep breaths. Shifting closer to her side, I started the induction talk.

“As you’re lying there concentrating on your breathing,” I told her, “I want you to imagine a very strange idea. I wonder if you can imagine that you can actually breathe through your fingertips. Just imagine that rather strange idea, that you can actually breathe in through your fingertips.” I gave her a few seconds to think about that before going on. “Imagine that you can feel the air moving in through your hands, slowly at first, with perhaps just a faint tingling sensation as it flows past your palms. And now just imagine that feeling moving slowly up your arms, through your elbows, up to the shoulders. Feeling that comforting flow of air moving through both arms, both elbows, both shoulders.”

I could see Rachel’s hands twitching a little, her fingers spreading apart just a hair, and took that as a good sign. “As you feel that slight tingle, that comforting flow of air moving through your arms, you may notice that it leaves the muscles in your hands feeling warm and loose, relaxed, lazy. Just imagine that, imagine the air flowing through your hands, relaxing them, bringing that tingle through your elbows and shoulders, relaxing your arms completely as it flows through. Breathe deeply and feel the flow as your arms relax so completely.” The twitching stopped, and Rachel’s arms seemed to settle, rising and falling as she breathed in and out.

After a few seconds, I continued. “As you feel that comforting, relaxing flow of air moving through your hands, through your arms to your shoulders, maybe finding again that faint tingling sensation, perhaps in your elbows or forearms this time, then moving down through your body. Down through your chest and stomach, down through your hips, down through your thighs, into your knees and shins and calves. Again, you might feel that faint tingling sensation just there, just below your knees, moving down through your ankles and out the bottoms of your feet. And you can find a great deal of calmness and easiness in this rather strange idea that you can breathe in through your fingers, that you can actually feel the air moving through your whole body in one single, warming, comforting flow. A unidirectional flow, moving through your whole body in one single comforting flow. The calmness and relaxation you breathe in doesn’t get involved with the tensions and stresses that you breathe away from yourself. With each breath you take, with each word I speak, you find yourself becoming steadily more and more relaxed.”

I looked back at Rachel’s face. Her jaw looked slack and her lips were parted slightly.

I was on a roll, but I was wondering if she was faking it or not. I decided to keep going with a deepener.

“Very good, Rachel. With each breath you take, each word I speak, you find yourself becoming steadily more and more relaxed. As you relax, you begin to notice the weight of your head against the soft mat, wondering if that weight might seem to gently increase as you relax even more. Feeling also the weight of your feet on the pad, and noticing how that weight, too, seems to gently increase even as you think about it.”

“You find that sensation of total relaxation, as if you are lying on your own bed after a hot shower, sinking gently into the mattress, letting it envelop you, feeling totally calm, totally safe. With each breath you take, with each word I speak, allowing that feeling of great calmness, comfort, and safety to increase. Feeling that warm, relaxing flow of air continuing to move through your whole body, from your hands, through your arms, down through your body and out through your feet.”

Rachel’s breathing had slowed so much I could barely tell when she inhaled. I watched her for a few moments. I kept thinking, “She’s so beautiful when she’s asleep.”

As I led Rachel down an imaginary staircase, telling her that each step took her deeper into hypnosis, I watched her. As we got closer to the bottom of the staircase, it seemed as though her face began to flush slightly.

I believed I was done using the induction sequence. But how to tell if it worked. I ran my eyes over her relaxed body. My eyes locked onto her feet. I knew how ticklish she usually was. If she were faking it, she’d wake up giggling. I gently placed her feet into my hands and lightly stroked over her soles. I watched her face for any reaction. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a single change in her face at all. I tickled a little harder. Still no reaction. I let go of her feet and placed it back on the bed.

“Oh my freakin’...” I couldn’t believe it. I actually had her in a trance! My heart was racing in overdrive. I couldn’t think straight. After all these years of imagining and fantasizing, I finally achieved the unreachable. But even through my entire body was pumping with adrenaline and hormones, a strong voice in my head reminded me the golden rule of hypnosis: “You cannot force a subject to do anything that is against his or her moral fiber.” But, I also remembered the loophole in that statement. “However, if you put the subject into a situation where the action is logical, he or she will execute it.” That meant that if I wanted her to strip, I couldn’t go forward with a direct command. I knew she wouldn’t do that if she were awake and instantly wake up from the trance. I would lose and she would gloat about it for awhile. There were a few suggestions that I could use. I could use the subtle approach and allow her to lose control of her hands and let her strip like that. Or I could use the non-subtle approach and make her think she was about to take a shower or make her believe that we were playing strip poker. Of course since I was going improv, without a script or any preparation, I had to think carefully before I said anything. Another rule I learned: “The sub-conscious mind is literal. It will take any suggestion literally, word for word, detail by detail. Be careful what you say.” I decided to go for the strip poker suggestion. I had her believe she was playing with other people and that she always would get a losing hand. However, she wouldn’t be put-off but would keep playing until I told her to stop. She played a few imaginary rounds with her always losing. First came her tank-top, then her shorts, followed by her bikini top and lastly her bottom. As soon as the last piece of clothing fell to the floor, I commanded her to go back into a deep trance. She willingly obeyed and stood there, eyes closed, no clothes and had absolutely no idea what was happening to her. I wanted her to at least be able to see her baby blue eyes though.

“You will open your eyes, but will remain in trance. You will not look directly at me unless told to,” and then after a moment’s thought, “you will blink when necessary, but you will continue to stare straight ahead.” Her eyes flew open and focused on no spot in particular.

By this time, I was particularly turned on by the whole ordeal. I knew at that moment, my ego was being given a hyper-boost. Now, I needed to figure out what to do with her.

I thought for a moment, then remembered something that I read in a website once. I couldn’t wait to do it.

“Kneel straight.” She complied by getting on her knees, and her body became an L-shape. “Each of your wrists is tied to a bunch of red balloons. You can feel your arms becoming lighter...and lighter...your arms start to drift upward with them. Feel them floating up into the air.” Her arms started to rise, up and up, until they reached up high to the ceiling. “The balloons are being released from your hands, but your arms continue to stay frozen where you are. It is as if your arm is welded to a steel rod. You cannot put your arms down even if you tried. You can try, but you will not be able to put your arms down.” I saw frustration in her face, trying to struggle with her arms, trying to force them downward, but to no avail. “You can stop trying now.” Instantly, she stopped. I forced her to spread her legs as far as possible, but to keep her legs in a right angle. “Now, you will find this position extremely comfortable. You wouldn’t want to move from this position as it relaxes you.” I saw her face muscles become more and more slack. I deepened the trance more and more until I finally did what I was ready to do.

“You are a statue, a beautiful and majestic statue. You stand tall, towering over all statues. You are a complete goddess.” I paused to let the words sink in. “People everyday come by to admire your beauty, to gaze in awe over your form.” I took a deep breath. “But you are no ordinary statue. You have been formed with a special plaster that allows you to feel sensitivity.” I think she was a little confused with that, so I said, “You are special because you can feel and touch, you can feel hot or cold, rough or smooth, pain or pleasure. The more a certain spot is touched, the more sensitive it becomes. You long for someone to climb up to your pedestal and touch you. But days go by and no one has come. Do you want someone to touch you? You can tell me what you’re thinking because I’m your creator.” She moaned out a “Yes.”

“Do you want me to come up there on your pedestal and touch you?” Again she moaned out a “Yes.”

“I am climbing up to your pedestal. You feel so calm and happy whenever I’m near you. You may be a statue, but you can still let out your expressions.” At this, I kneel down and place my fingers on the soles of her feet. For all you foot fetish people, I just want to say I’m usually not a foot guy. I like going for the upper body better. So I was planning to stick around her for a few minutes and then continue on. “Ask me to touch you.”

“Please touch me.” Well, since she asked so nicely...

“Do you feel my touch?” I start drawing circles on her feet. Of course, she starts to giggle. “Remember, the more you are touched, the more sensitive it becomes!” At that, her giggling started to increase. I started to rake my fingernails across the soles. She shrieked every time I passed from one end of the foot to the other. After a few minutes, I stopped. She continued to giggle afterward, even though I wasn’t touching her. ‘Next on the tour,’ I thought. I reinforced the suggestion that she was still a statue and couldn’t move. I raised my hands up to her smooth, flat stomach. Then, I told her, it was not my fingers that was touching her, but soft, fluffy feathers. I then started to tickle all over her belly, making sure to get into the navel. I could see her stomach contracting with every touch. She was starting to laugh into hysterics, when I got to her sides. I went and started to knead and prod her sides, making sure I got in between each individual rib. I spent as long as I could, wanting so badly for her to laugh. By this time, her hair was all sweaty and matted over her face. Speaking of her face, her face was frozen into an immovable smile, never once said anything but releasing her sweet, musical laughter. Then, we came to my favorite part.

“Are you ticklish under your arms?” I asked, knowing the answer.

She giggled out a “Yes.”

“You can fell your sensitivity in your armpits double...triple...quadruple...for every second that passes, your armpits are becoming more and more ticklish.” I don’t think she could withstand the anticipation. Then, slowly, I barely let one finger touch under the smooth surface of her arm. She screamed. Undaunted, I placed another finger under the other arm. She started to bust out with gut wrenching belly laughter. I couldn’t believe it. I only had two fingers that weren’t even moving and she was attempting to thrash about. I withdrew my fingers and she continued to laugh afterward for a few minutes. I waited for her to calm down. When she did, I nuzzled my nose into her armpit. That got her to start laughing all over again. I took a look at her breasts. I could see she was actually enjoying this pleasurable torture. So, I started to trace my fingers around and around in a circle around her nipples. She started to moan out of pleasure. “Are you liking this?” I asked her. She didn’t and couldn’t answer, she was too far gone in sane mind to comprehend what I was asking. She moaned and groaned to my touch. Finally, I couldn’t resist and started to knead my fingers into her so sensitive armpits. She quickly went from a moan to a shriek in no time at all. I was so absorbed in tickling her, I was caught off guard when she started to orgasm. I stopped immediately, but she kept going again and again and again. Finally, she stopped. Tears were leaking out of her eyes, her mouth was wide open, drooling out of her mouth. I quickly released her out of the statue mode, carried her and laid her out on the bed. Her breathing started to become deep again. I automatically went into another trance deepener. Again, I think she was still out of it. I moved her arms and legs and put her into a spread-eagle position. I think you all know where I’m going with this. I gave her the post-hypnotic suggestion that she was bound with blue scarves and couldn’t move out of her position even if she tried. I also said that she wouldn’t be able to see me, hear me, but not see me. Finally, so I could put her back in trance quicker, I gave her the post-hypnotic trigger to put her back into trance. I made sure that every time I used the trigger, she would fall deeper more farther than before. The trigger was the snap of my fingers twice. To wake her out of a trance, I only had to clap three times.

I finally implanted this really deep into her mind, no matter what, under any circumstance, she would and could not tickle me back, directly or indirectly by asking someone else. When I did everything I could think of, I clapped three times. Her eyes fluttered open.

“What the...” she started. She looked at her wrists and raised her head to see her ankles. It looked like she was responding right with the instructions. She also noticed that she was completely naked, her clothes carelessly scattered around the floor. She looked around the room. Obviously she couldn’t see me, because her eyes just passed right over me as if I wasn’t there.

“Hey! Where the hell are you?!” she yelled.

“I’m standing right here.” I replied. She looked around, confused.

“Where?” she said. Instead of replying, I started to wiggle my fingers over her feet again. She had no idea what was going to happen. Then suddenly, I attacked! I raked my fingers over the sensitive soles of hers. I viciously clawed, scribbled, raked as lightly over her as possible. Her reaction was instantaneous. She started to scream with laughter, telling whoever was doing this to her to stop. For some reason, even though I was taking sadistic pleasure on doing this to her, even though I was so turned on by this, I kept thinking to myself, “Was this really worth it? You’re accomplishing what you’ve always wanted but are you really satisfied?” I pushed the thought out of my mind for now. I could always take the guilt trip much later. I switched from the feet and kneaded what from various accounts was the most ticklish spot of all, her hips. I kneaded it as if there was no tomorrow. Her butt was just bouncing off the bed, struggling against her imaginary bonds, laughing her head off, begging it to stop. She grinded her butt into the mattress, trying to get at least a moment’s rest. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I jumped over to those so ticklish armpits and did everything I could to get her to laugh with all her might. Instantly, I don’t know how, she gave another great orgasm. The tension in her entire body was so tight that she broke her imaginary bonds for the entire moment. Then, she dropped like a rag doll, still in the spread-eagle position and blacked out. I stared at her awestruck. I couldn’t believe I just achieved what I always wanted. I snapped my fingers twice and after confirming she was back in a trance, I told her that she would not remember any of this session. She would still believe that I hadn’t hypnotized her, but I made sure to change the outcome of the bet. Instead of me having to skinny-dip, she would be the one who had to. I told her that this made logical sense and that she didn’t see anything wrong with that. I quickly put her clothes back on and made sure that she remembered the bet. The hypnotic triggers would still work and she wouldn’t remember anything that had happened for the past four hours. (Four hours? Time does go by quick!) I clapped my hands three times and she woke up feeling a little groggy, but still waited for me to hypnotize her.

“You know what? Forget it.” I faked a look of defeat. “I guess I can’t hypnotize you.”

She gave me a smug grin.

“I knew you couldn’t. Oh well, I guess that means you lose.” She took my hand and led me outside to the pool. “Which means that I’m the one who has to go skinny-dipping!” She instantly stripped off her clothes and without hesitation, plunged into the water. I jumped into the pool after her.

I couldn’t believe I pulled it off. I actually pulled my fantasy off. But one more test...

I gave her a quick tickle in the ribs. She instantly flinched.

“Don’t do that!” she squealed. I waited for her to try to get me back, but she never did.

I pulled the entire thing off. I couldn’t wait to try her out again. I just knew I would get another chance eventually.

“Man, am I going to sleep well tonight!” I thought.

End