The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“What a day,” Clancy said with a yawn. “I wouldn’t mind turning in early!”

“I need company,” I told him glumly. “Remember, Zel and the Songbirds are having their bachelorette party tonight?”

“Oh, you poor man, getting married and all that,” the drummer teased. “I don’t know if I can be much help, though. I’ve got plans.”

I snorted. “You can’t leave me alone to wonder what the girls are doing!”

“Watch me!” he laughed, and ducked his way into the actors’ pavilion.

“Yeah, I dare say,” I grunted, and followed him in.

“SURPRISE!” shouted a dozen voices.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I chuckled as Clancy clapped me on the back.

In the tent were a good twenty Faire workers, mostly men—and in the center was a keg.

“Thanks,” I said loudly, “but my birthday was LAST week!”

“But it’s time for a bachelor party, man,” Duncan said, clasping my hand. Shaking my head and laughing, I accepted the offered beer, and sat down on the blanketed floor.

“Congratulations, Nick,” Clancy said, and raised his own mug. “A toast! May I someday find a girl as lovely as Zelasha!”

Everyone cheered.

“So is she good in bed, Nick?” Prentice asked.

“Hey, if she’s as good as she sings,” Lawrence said, elbowing him.

“Cripes, guys, what kind of question is that?” Clancy asked.

“Well, Nick?” Ricardo prodded.

I sighed, and raised my glass. “Let’s just say I’m really tired!”

Whoops and applause emerged from the gang.

Duncan stood up. “And now, a present from all of us! Presentinnnnnnng... um, drum roll please?”

Clancy sat down behind his bodhran and provided one.

“Presenting, the lovely Kaitlin!” Duncan roared.

I glanced around, bewildered—I hadn’t seen her here—but the Gypsy Songbird emerged from the corner. She was covered, head to toe, in veils.

“Oh lord,” I said, laughing. Glancing at me, a twinkle in her eye, Kaitlin began to dance around the room to the gentle thrumming of Clancy’s drum. The dark veil around her face was the first to go, dropped sensually in my lap; then she danced over to Duncan, hips swaying provocatively, and deposited a second (purple) veil on his head.

I hadn’t really noticed Kaitlin’s figure before, but tonight her state of dress made it obvious that she had one. As Clancy drummed on, Kait twisted around, swaying her arms and her hips. She had all the grace of a cobra.

As the crowd hurrahed, Kaitlin slid a third veil from inside her bodice, twirled it around in the air, then released it over Clancy. As we stared in fascination, the yellow fabric floated down onto his drum. This disrupted the rhythm, and everyone laughed. Not only does she have a cobra’s grace, I thought, she has a scorpion’s compassion!

Kaitlin slid the fourth veil from around her waist in a move worthy of a bellydancer. She draped it over her back, then between her legs, and finally dropped the light blue cloth over Ricardo’s feet.

To the group’s disappointment, Kaitlin produced the next veil—a red one—from inside a sleeve, and dangled it in front of Prentice. She played it for all it was worth, teasing his face with it as he looked on in consternation. The rest of us found his expressions amusing. I was careful to keep my eyes on his face—the really funny part—instead of Kait’s hips, which were the really interesting parts.

To the audience’s howls, Kaitlin reached into her skirt and conjured the sixth and seventh veils—white and pink—and whipped them around in the air. As everyone applauded, she dropped the white one over me, then threw the pink one into the largest concentration of men. The actors scrambled for it, and the Songbird bowed.

Everyone clapped appreciatively.

Where was Zelasha when I needed her? I made a mental note to ask her if she could do that.

Duncan poured me some more beer. “Does anyone have any other suggestions for entertainments?”

“What could possibly follow that?” Prentice asked, to general laughter.

“We could play a game,” Ricardo suggested.

“Do we have one?” I asked.

“Yahtzee?” someone said.

“How about Clue?” Lawrence proposed.

“Do we have a set?” Kaitlin asked. She had sat down, and was happily nestled inside Duncan’s cloak.

“Don’t need one,” Prentice laughed. “I know who it was! It’s always Colonel Mustard, in the library, with the candlestick!”

“Actually,” came a familiar Southern voice, “it was Miss Scarlett, at the Renaissance Faire, with the pocket watch.”

“Oh, good grief,” I said aloud as the tall hypnotist entered, followed by Zelasha, Emily, and the rest of the Songbirds. About half the Birds were in normal clothes, as were Scarlett and Emily. Saoirse and the others were still in their Gypsy costumes.

My eyes went straight to my lover. Zelasha was dressed in tight-fitting blue jeans, a white button-down collared shirt, and a black leather jacket. Her long hair was up in a ponytail. Aside from her boots and the button that identified her as the bride-to-be, she was wearing my clothes—and she looked sexy as hell.

Duncan whistled. “Welcome, welcome, ladies!”

“I thought this was supposed to be a bachelor party,” Lawrence said.

“And a bachelorette party,” Zelasha said, standing in the center of the room, “but we figured it might be more fun to stop by and see how y’all are doing!”

“Y’all?” I echoed. “You’ve been hanging around Miss Scarlett for too long!”

The raven-haired Southerner shrugged innocently.

“So what’ll it be, Nick?” Duncan asked, putting an arm around the redhead and shoving her good-naturedly in my direction. “Do the women have to leave, or do they get to stay?”

“Well...” I began.

“Are you sure we want them to see this display of true maleness?” Lawrence asked.

“Nick?” Prentice echoed.

I took another draught of beer to fortify myself, but Zelasha chose that very moment to sit down next to me. It was the act of her snuggling up to me that tipped the scales.

“All right,” I said, “they can stay—so long as they can provide the entertainment!”

The girls looked at each other. “I think we could maybe manage a song,” Cleo suggested.

“Forget the song,” Lawrence said. “Let’s have a hypnosis show!”

“Oh, good lord,” I sighed. Everyone else was laughing.

“What’ll it be, Miss Scarlett?” Duncan asked.

The lovely hypnotist took a long draught of beer. “I suppose I might manage something,” she said, and everyone cheered.

“All right,” the Southerner continued. “Anyone who wants to go under, just follow along. If you don’t want to be hypnotized, no problem, all you have to do is stay awake!”

More laughs.

Zelasha and I exchanged glances. “We said we wouldn’t do this with anyone else,” I whispered.

My fiancee nodded slowly. “Do you think it would be all right if we both did? That way, no one would get left out.”

I chuckled—I’d been thinking pretty much the same thing—and nodded, taking her hand.

We both looked up at the hypnodomme. Miss Scarlett was wearing blue jeans, a white tee shirt, and her ever-present black boots. Her long black hair was down, held only by a simple clip behind her head.

The Southerner picked up her purse from the floor, pulled out a icicle-shaped piece of glass, and tossed the purse to Emily. Her girlfriend placed it beside her, then settled down, looking up at the hypnotist to watch.

There was a short chain attached to the shard, and Scarlett held it up, letting it dangle. To my amazement, the crystal lit up—it wasn’t very bright, probably just a pen light or something—but its light shone around the room in tiny fragments of color that whirled and spun as the hypnotist twirled the crystal with her fingertips.

“Watch the crystal flicker and shine,” Miss Scarlett whispered. “Let your entire being concentrate upon it. Watch how the light moves and dances. It’s so easy to stare at it and forget everything else, wondering what kind of patterns the light will make, trying to figure them out in advance... concentrate. Just enjoy yourself, let yourself go.

“Focus all your thoughts on the crystal as it moves... that’s right... and as your eyes and your mind focus on the light, you want to listen to my voice... focus on the crystal and let my words relax you and soothe you... my voice is so easy to listen to, my words are very natural, very comforting... it’s so easy to concentrate on the crystal, listening to my voice and trusting me.”

Miss Scarlett’s voice had become smooth and lulling, gentle and sweet. Truth be told, I thought, the crystal wasn’t all that interesting, but listening to her voice was delicious.

“My voice relaxes you... it’s so easy, you can’t help it,” the lovely hypnotist continued. “The more you gaze at the crystal, the easier it becomes to stare at, and the more you hear my voice, the easier it gets to hear, the more you want to hear. You love looking at the crystal, the way the light flickers and dances; you love listening to my words. This is so calming and relaaaxing. Have you ever sat before fireplace, with a warm, crackling fire? You are feeling like that, so relaxed, nothing on your mind except the light, thinking about nothing but my voice.”

I barely noticed as Miss Scarlett lifted the crystal up and started to move it from side to side.

“As your eyes follow the crystal, they are becoming relaxed and lethargic,” the Southerner went on. “Your eyelids are getting heavy, like when you wake up in the middle of the night and you’re so sleepy... your breathing is deep and easy, regular and simple, filling your lungs with oxygen... almost yawning, so relaxed, feeling sleepy... you follow the movement and dance of the light, and everything you see is so relaxing... everything you hear is so soothing... my voice is so dreamy, it’s so easy and natural for your eyes to close...”

I had to tip my head back a little to keep my focus on the crystal.

“Your eyelids are so heavy now, you can’t stop them from closing... far too heavy to keep them open... and the more you listen to my voice, the easier it becomes to listen... the more you listen, the heavier your eyelids get, until they close, finally close, finally close... your head is nodding... you are falling asleep, into a deep sleep, a deeeep sleep where you are surrounded by blankets and pillows... you are so warm and comfortable because my voice is so soothing and comforting... you are falling asleep to the sound of my voice, you can’t help it, it is the most natural thing in the world... you are in a deep sleeeep where my words are the pillows, you are sinking down deeper into the sound of my voice... my voice is a soft, warm, comforting blanket, covering you...

“With every breath you fall deeper and deeper... with every breath the more soothing and more clear my voice becomes... all you are thinking about now is my voice... my voice is all you hear... my voice is all you can hear... my voice is all you want to hear... the more you listen to my voice the deeper you fall into a soft gentle sleep...

“You are now in a deep, deep sleep, and though your mind is in a very deep sleep, you are still listening to my voice... you cannot stop yourself from listening to my voice... my voice is part of you, you can’t help it, and knowing this makes you even more relaxed and even more comfortable...”

I opened my eyes. Zelasha had been leaning into me, and she also stirred, straightening up. I felt relaxed, happy and comfortable, the normal care-free feeling of awakening from a trance.

Zelasha gave me a quick kiss, then whispered to me. “What did she do?”

“No idea,” I whispered back. I felt completely normal.

“Emily, the flower, please,” Miss Scarlett purred. Her girlfriend smiled, then produced a rose from somewhere nearby. The flower was a gentle lavender in color. Although the blonde woman was several yards away, I could see that the flower had no thorns. Must be one of those sterling roses, I supposed.

Zelasha scooted around until she was in front of me. Catching on, I inched forward, putting my legs around her. Her back was to my chest, and as she leaned her head back I breathed in her wonderful incense-spice perfume. My arms went around her waist, and she snuggled in to me.

Emily had given the purple flower to the hypnotist. “This rose is a very special rose,” Miss Scarlett was saying. “The juice of it on eye-lids laid will make any man or woman madly dote upon the next live creature that it sees.”

“Oh, no,” I groaned, and my girlfriend laughed.

“Who would like a turn?” Scarlett asked.

“I would!” Cleo cried, reaching for it desperately. With a grin, Miss Scarlett handed it to her.

The black girl turned towards Saoirse, but the flaxen-haired Songbird shook her head. “Forget it, Cleo,” she said. “I already dote upon you.”

Cleo laughed, and waved the flower before Saoirse’s face. As everyone started giggling, her girlfriend’s eyes fixed upon it, and started following the flower back and forth. “Yes, but think about how you’ll like me after a dose of this,” the black girl said exultantly, and touched the flower to Saoirse’s nose.

Saoirse blinked a few times, then stared at Cleo, her mouth hanging open. Zelasha shifted slightly in my lap.

“How do you feel about me now?” Cleo asked.

Saoirse cast her eyes downward. “Forgive me, mistress,” she whispered. “I meant no offense—how may I serve thee?”

Everyone laughed.

Cleo touched her hypnotized girlfriend’s cheek. “You don’t have to do that.”

Saoirse shook her head. “But I must, mistress,” she said in a low voice, almost a whisper. “I am unworthy to meet your gaze.”

The black girl slipped a finger under the flaxen-haired woman’s cheek. “But I wish you to, honey.”

Saoirse shook her head frantically. “If I do than you will see that I—but I will be flogged for my impertinence!”

Cleo gently raised Saoirse’s face. “See that you what, honey?”

Saoirse was trembling, her eyes darting away, then back. “See how I worship you, mistress.”

The black girl grinned broadly, playing along. “But my servants are supposed to worship me, Saoirse.”

“Not the way I—I worship you, mistress.” Saoirse bent forward, her head falling into Cleo’s lap. “Please, mistress,” she begged. “I implore you, send me away, do not beat me for my presumption. I meant no offense, I swear it!”

Zelasha cuddled closer in to me, and put her own hands over mine.

“What did you do that I would be offended?” Cleo asked, patting her girlfriend’s hair. The sterling rose, forgotten, fell to her side.

“I cannot tell,” Saoirse mumbled into her dress.

“I command you to tell me,” Cleo said with an evil grin.

“Oh, mistress, I adore you,” Saoirse said, raising her head a little so that we could all hear. “I dream of you commanding me to please you—you are the queen of my fantasies—please, please command me, command me to do anything so that I might see your smile, command me to... to massage you so that I might touch your skin...” she trailed off.

“I will command you,” the black girl said impishly. “I command you to kiss me, Saoirse.”

“To, to kiss...” the lovestruck girl repeated, then began to kiss Cleo’s lap.

“Up,” Cleo said.

Like a woman possessed, Saoirse kissed her way from Cleo’s legs up her chest. She lingered a bit on her girlfriend’s breasts, but started to continue upwards—towards her neck—until Cleo’s small hands touched her on either side of her head and held it in place.

Zelasha stirred against me, and I leaned forward and kissed the back of her head. As I gazed at Saoirse opening her mouth over Cleo’s breasts, I could imagine the sensation I knew the flaxen-haired woman must be feeling of soft, knitted wool under her lips.

As we stared, Cleo pulled her green woolen sweater off her head and lay back on the rugs. Her hypnotized girlfriend moved forward with her, her lips insistent upon the black girl’s bra.

Miss Scarlett stepped forward and picked up the flower. “Anyone else for this?”

“Me! Me!” several people said at once, and many hands went up. With a grin, the hypnotist tossed it to Duncan. He showed it to Kaitlin; her eyes widened, then she seized his head in her hands and kissed him smack on the lips. As Duncan slid backwards, the flower dropped from his hand. As the crowd laughed, Clancy reached for it, then pulled his hand back. Seeing her opportunity, Jiliana grasped for it, but Alondra was faster. She used it on a man I didn’t know, and soon he was prostrating himself before her. With a sigh, Jiliana sat down beside Zelasha and me.

“All right,” Miss Scarlett said. “I need another volunteer. Who wants to be hypnotized?”

Half a the crowd’s hands went up. As if we were in grade school, Prentice waved his hand, and said, “Me! me! me!”

The long-haired hypnotist smiled at him. “Okay, you’ve convinced me.” Prentice stood and approached her. “What’s your name?”

He told her.

“And have you ever been hypnotized before?”

He shook his head.

Scarlett produced her crystal, and began swinging it before his face. Prentice’s eyes followed it obediently, which became comical as the Southerner made its arcs wider.

After half a minute of watching Prentice goggle at the crystal, Scarlett snapped the fingers of her other hand. “Sleep,” she said; it was the first word she’d spoken.

Prentice’s eyes closed, and his head nodded onto his chest.

“Now, Prentice,” Scarlett said, putting her arm around him, “you are completely hypnotized, completely under my spell. You believe everything I tell you; you want to, you can’t help it. Everything I say is completely true, completely real. Now, on the count of three, you will become a donkey.”

Everyone laughed. “You will have long donkey’s ears, and the nose and mouth of a donkey... and a donkey’s tail,” Scarlett told him. “You can understand English, but you cannot speak—all you can do is bray.” More chuckles. “Now, may I have a volunteer for someone to translate?”

Francine waved enthusiastically, and Miss Scarlett called upon her. With an excited smile, the blonde woman brushed her hair out of her face, took her glasses off, and stood up next to Prentice.

“Fabulous,” the hypnotist purred. “Now Francine, look at the crystal for a moment.” As Scarlett raised it, Francine regarded it obediently—and the blonde woman’s eyes were soon locked onto its shimmering, spinning presence as the raven-haired hypnotist moved her hand in a complex pattern before Francine’s face. She wasn’t swinging it—instead, she moved the crystal up and down, right to left, back and forth, as though it were a yo-yo. And one command of “sleep” stopped Francine in her tracks. Her eyes closed, her head drooped, and her straight hair fell into her face.

“I appreciate you volunteering for this,” Miss Scarlett said in a stage-whisper. “It’s so generous of you... for, Francine, you are the only person who can understand Prentice’s braying. You can all see he’s been turned into a donkey; and when I ask him questions, you will have to translate for him. And Francine, the more he brays, the more handsome he will seem to you. The more he acts like a donkey, the more intelligent he seems. He’s so handsome, so attractive, he’s the best-looking man you’ve ever seen. On the count of three, you will both wake up... one, two, three.” Snap.

She did it. Prentice was a donkey.

Zelasha and I exchanged glances, and I shrugged. She was seeing it too. Before my eyes, Prentice had grown long ears, hairy legs, hooves, and a tail.

How did she...

Oh, for crying out loud.

“The hypnosis worked,” I whispered.

My fiancee sighed, and snuggled in to me. “Well, I suppose we did ask for it,” she said.

Prentice was looking around in confusion as the crowd laughed. Francine was looking at him in amusement; Duncan was laughing so hard he was almost crying.

Prentice gave him an indignant look. “Eee-awww! Eee-awww!” he proclaimed, to more laughter.

Scarlett grinned. “What did he say, Francine?”

“He wants to know what everyone is laughing about,” the blonde woman giggled. “There, there!” she patted his arm. “Oh, Prentice, your shirt is so soft!” she said aloud, startled.

“Prentice,” Ricardo called out, “thou art translated!” I groaned, and the rest of the crowd followed suit.

Everyone was laughing now. “Anyone have a mirror?” Scarlett asked.

Emily produced a hand mirror, and handed it to Francine. The translator showed it to Prentice, who’s eyes bulged out. “EEe-haw! Eee-haww!” he cried.

Francine almost doubled over. “He says its the curse!”

“The curse?” Scarlett asked. This was new to her, too.

Francine nodded. “Prentice is cursed! You poor, poor baby!” She hugged his arm.

Prentice looked at her. “Hee-awww! Hee-awww!”

“What kind of curse is it?” Brynna called out.

“He says it comes upon him whenever he’s near a beautiful woman,” Francine said, then seemed to register what she’d said. “Oh! Oh, Prentice, that’s so sweet!”

“But how is he cursed?” Scarlett asked.

“Eee-augh! Eee-augh!” Prentice said in obvious frustration.

“He’s had this curse since childhood,” Francine said amidst her laughter. “Whenever he’s around a woman he’s attracted to, he becomes an ass!”

Rissa was laughing so hard she slid off her chair onto the carpeted floor.

“I’m sure we’ve all experienced that curse at some point!” Clancy shouted.

“Hee-haugh! Hee-haugh!” Prentice shouted.

“Oh,” Francine said, and frowned—but then she turned to Prentice again, and started laughing. “I’m sorry, I was so presumptuous! It’s not me he was thinking of—it’s you, Cleo!”

The black girl looked up. She and Saoirse had been busy making out for the last several minutes.

“Sorry, I’m taken,” she said, and went back to kissing her girlfriend.

“I’m sorry, Prentice dear,” Francine said, taking his arm. “But wouldn’t you consider me? Please?”

“Eee-aw! Eee-aw!” Prentice snorted.

“Oh, Prentice!” Francine said, and fell to her knees before him. “The more you beat me, I will fawn on you! Spurn me! Strike me! Neglect me! Lose me! Only give me leave, unworthy as I am, to follow you!”

“Awwwww!” Zelasha said, and everyone followed suit.

“Francine, ask him how the curse can be broken,” Kaitlin said.

“Heee-yaww! Hee-yaww!” Prentice proclaimed.

“Oh!” the blonde woman said, standing up. “It’s the Beauty and the Beast thing—he’ll stop being an ass if a beautiful woman kisses him!”

“Eee-haw!”

“Oh, but he has to love her too,” Francine added. “Oh, Prentice,” she said, stroking his ears, “you poor, poor baby... why can’t you love me?”

“Hee-haw!”

Francine shrugged, and kissed Prentice full on the lips. He put his furry arms on her shoulders, and kissed back... and before our eyes, his normal appearance returned.

Everyone applauded. “Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful,” Miss Scarlett said, clapping Prentice on the shoulder. He blushed, provoking more laughter.

“This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard,” Jiliana muttered beside us.

Miss Scarlett bowed, and turned towards us. “And what about our vampire couple?” she asked. “This is your party, after all.”

“Oh, man,” I said out loud, and turned to Zelasha. “Are you sure this was a good idea?”

The redhead looked from me to Miss Scarlett. “Do you have something in mind?” she asked.

The hypnotist nodded. “Sleep.”

I opened my eyes as my beloved’s cool body stirred in my arms. Zelasha’s gorgeous lapis lazuli eyes fluttered open, and she twisted her head around to look at me, love and lust on her face. She wiggled around in my arms, turning towards me. I slid my left arm around her, and she nestled in for a moment.

“Mmmmmm,” she sighed. “It’s so nice being with you.”

I cupped her cheek with my right hand. “What makes you think of this now?”

She smiled, green eyes glinting in the candlelight. “Because you’re my companion, and I trust you,” she said. “And ‘cause you’ve got my back. I can just relax and let my hair down.” She unclasped her sensuous red tresses and shook them out; her long hair swished across the black leather of my coat. “Even when we’re here in another vampire’s territory, I know I’m safe ‘cause I’ve got you.”

I didn’t quite follow that. “Another vampire?”

Zelasha nodded, and indicated with her chin. “Miss Scarlett.”

I followed my beloved’s gaze. Sitting across the pavilion from us was the tall Southern woman. Her unbound black hair glistened in the soft light, its color emphasizing her dark eyes. Her waifish girlfriend, Emily, was sitting next to her now, her hand lying in Scarlett’s while her wide blue eyes watched us in fascination. I became aware that a good score of individuals were sitting or lying around the pavilion. Some were gazing at us, some whispered to each other; a few were asleep.

“And look!” Zelasha sat up. “She’s observed proper rules of hospitality, too—look at all the choices she’s given us.”

“My countess is thirsty?” I asked, realizing my mouth was dry.

She nodded. “May we have any of these, Miss Scarlett?” She gestured absently.

“In my domain, you have to seek permission first,” the Southerner replied. “But if they say yes, then you may.”

Zelasha grinned. “Anyone look appealing to you, beloved? I am so thirsty.”

My eyes lit on a petite African-American woman in the corner. The head of another, lighter-skinned woman lay in her lap; she was fast asleep. “Perhaps that one?” I asked.

My companion flashed me a wicked smile, and crawled towards them. The dark-complexioned woman looked up, and froze when she met my beloved’s gaze.

Zelasha sat down cross-legged in front of her. “What’s your name?” she said. I licked my lips in anticipation. My companion was using The Voice, the hypnotic resonance she always used to beguile her victims. It was fascinating to watch her work on her prey, to see her seduce them with her words and her eyes.

The black woman blinked. “Cleo,” she whispered.

My lover nodded, staring at the woman’s face. “Hello, Cleo... my name is Zelasha. Are you having a good evening?”

Cleo—that name sounded familiar, somehow—glanced down at the sleeping woman whose head was in her lap, and then, nodding, looked up at Zelasha. “Yes,” she said softly.

My beloved leaned in. “I’m so glad to hear that, so glad,” she said, her voice insidious and resonant. “Isn’t it wonderful to be here?”

The black woman nodded again. “Yes, it is wonderful.”

“And you’re feeling very comfortable, aren’t you?” Zelasha asked.

“Very comfortable,” Cleo echoed.

“Very comfortable with me?” Zelasha repeated. My companion scooted a bit closer while keeping her eyes focused on Cleo’s face.

“Comfortable,” Cleo nodded.

“What do you think of what I’m wearing?” the redhead asked without dropping her gaze. “I hope it’s feminine enough—I borrowed all this from my lover.”

“Your lover?” Cleo asked.

Zelasha nodded. “Do I look feminine?”

“Yes,” Cleo said, staring at Zelasha’s face.

“How feminine?”

“Very feminine, Zel—Zelasha,” Cleo breathed. The black woman’s eyes were dark, lovely—and enthralled. The moments between blinks were stretching longer and longer. Zelasha was bewitching Cleo with her eyes.

“I’m feeling kinda thirsty, Cleo,” Zelasha said softly. “You’d like to help me, wouldn’t you?”

Cleo had stopped looking at anything else, and was focused on the woman I loved. “Yes—help you.”

Quietly, I made my way over to Miss Scarlett. The Southerner looked at me with a half-smile. “Nicholas?”

“Nikolai,” I corrected absently. “Have you already spellbound these people?”

The raven-haired beauty nodded. “Why?”

“Zelasha’s hardly had to fascinate her at all,” I admitted. “Granted, she’s quite good, but most people don’t go down so easily.”

Scarlett nodded. “I have them all hypnotized,” she told me softly. “Who would you choose?”

I looked around. Emily was resting her head on Scarlett’s shoulder. I doubted that Scarlett’s hospitality extended to her obvious thrall, despite how vulnerable and scrumptious the blonde woman looked. The sleeping woman in Cleo’s lap, now...

Saoirse. Her name popped into my head, unbidden. How had I known it? Was I reading her mind? That was rare—it happened only with a deep connection.

“You want to offer your neck to me,” Zelasha was telling Cleo, her voice sultry and suggestive. The African-American woman’s hands moved to unbutton her collar, her eyes never leaving my companion’s.

I inched my way towards them. Maybe that was it. Zelasha had already gotten inside Cleo’s head—and if Saoirse was Cleo’s lover, my long-established psychic connection with my companion might enable me to share what she was learning, too.

“Do you want me to kiss your neck?” Zelasha was asking as I slid into place beside her.

Cleo nodded.

“You truly wish this?” Zelasha smiled. Her tone made it a suggestion, not a question.

“Yeah,” the black woman sighed.

I darted forward and slid a hand under Saoirse’s neck, lifting her out of Cleo’s lap. The black woman barely noticed, as she was staring at my companion. She was captivated by Zelasha’s eyes; her brain was locked on her voice.

Saoirse’s eyes opened as I helped her sit up. They were a dark hazel, and she looked at me in curiosity—not fear.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” I replied. “I’m Nikolai.”

“Has anyone ever told you you look like Orlando Bloom?” she asked.

How flattering. “Is that good?” I asked.

Saoirse nodded, and smiled at me, trusting. I wasn’t going to have to do much to prepare her. She was already in a light trance, calm and carefree. Nothing was going to bother her.

“Saoirse,” I asked, “have you ever been hypnotized before?”

To my surprise, the wavy-haired woman nodded. “I started smoking when I was eighteen,” she said casually, “but when I was twenty-three my aunt was diagnosed with lung cancer.”

“I’m sorry.”

“She’s in remission,” Saoirse explained. She’d spoken to reassure me, but her tone was neutral, like she was discussing the weather. “I quit cold turkey when hearing the news, but I had trouble controlling the cravings and learning to relax again. I went to a hypnotherapist for help, and the cravings were gone after five sessions.” She smiled.

“Did anything else happen to you?”

Saoirse nodded. “I remember what it had felt like focusing on the therapist’s voice and falling asleep. Her suggestions became part of my subconscious. It was such an odd feeling when I realized she had the power to take advantage of me when I was hypnotized. That wasn’t scary—it was more of a thrill, actually. At the end of the last session, I made a pass at her. She turned me down.”

“What would you think,” I asked, “if Cleo were hypnotized?”

“I’d probably get jealous,” she said. “Why?”

I looked over at my companion and her prey. Saoirse followed my gaze, turning her head—then her upper body—to see our lovers interacting.

The sweet sensual power of the scene quickened my heartbeat. Cleo was still sitting up, but her eyes were closed and her head tipped to the side. Zelasha’s arms were around her, holding her up. My lover’s face was buried in Cleo’s neck.

The slender black woman moaned.

“I can see why you’d be jealous,” I said honestly. I loved watching Zelasha capture her prey, loved watching her place them under her spell. I was fascinated by the confused, innocent, lustful look of surrender that graced Cleo’s face. I loved watching Zelasha convince her victims to surrender their blood to her, loved the way she played predator.

“Yeah,” Saoirse said.

“Would you like to feel that way yourself?” I murmured into her ear.

“Yes,” she said, nodding slightly. Her eyes never left the image of Zelasha biting Cleo’s neck.

I moved around behind her, positioning myself so my own body would hold her up if she went limp—then brushed her red-gold curls away from her neck. Saoirse shivered a bit as my fingertips brushed across her skin, but her eyes were fixed upon what was happening in front of us—as was the attention of everyone else in the room.

I slid an arm around her stomach, and kissed the side of her neck. Saoirse gasped, a quick, adorable intake of air. A few more kisses made her shiver; then I slid my fangs into her throat and sipped her blood.

Her body leaned back against my own, and her eyes closed. Cleo and Zelasha forgotten, Saoirse went limp against me, reveling in the madness of my vampire kiss. She trembled, embracing the rapture of our contact.

Zelasha lowered Cleo to the blanketed earth, the black woman’s chest rising and falling in sleep. The redhead crawled towards us, grinning her crooked smile, and caught Saoirse’s pliant body as I withdrew. She lowered her to the blankets, then looked up at me. She licked her lips; a tantalizing spark shone in her green eyes.

“Time for dessert?” Zelasha said, using The Voice.

“What do you have in mind?” I loved seeing my companion like this, her mischievous face framed by her long red hair, her smile greedy and delicious.

“You,” she said, baring her fangs. “Look into my eyes.”

I grinned, and shook my head. “I think it’s my turn, darling. I want you to surrender to me.”

Zelasha’s dark eyes flicked back and forth, searching my own. “There will be enough time for that later. Right now, I want to be your countess. I want you to want me so bad you can’t think straight.”

I leaned forward. “You know I do, darling—but don’t you want to be in my arms? Don’t you want to be held, safe and secure, in the arms of the man you love? You don’t want to close your eyes and let yourself go, trusting me to take care of you?”

Our eyes locked. “I do trust you,” Zelasha said. “And I want to know you trust me too.” She slid a hand over my cheek, into my hair. “I want to know you can’t resist me, that you’ll do anything for me.”

“You know I will, darling.”

“Even let me inside your mind?” she said intently, her voice low and suggestive. “Even go into a trance for me? Look into my eyes, Nikolai, and don’t resist me. You don’t want to.”

I felt Zelasha’s power all around me as she tried to seduce my mind into the familiar patterns of surrender. Her vampire eyes were deep and lustful.

“How do I know you’re not going to take me for granted?” I asked. She was so unbelievably gorgeous...

“Because you trust me,” Zelasha urged, her voice low. “You know you trust me. You know you can’t resist me. Look into my eyes. You feel ecstasy when you look into my eyes. You surrender when you look into my eyes. You can’t resist me when I look into your eyes. You can’t resist me when I put you to sleep. You’re going to sleep. Sleep, my love. Sleep for me. Sleep for your countess. Sleep.”

It was happening. I felt the unstoppable sweetness of her vampire magic pulling my thoughts down into the depths of her green eyes. Her voice was sliding inside my head, penetrating my body with each syllable, making my eyelids heavy.

“My eyes are irresistible,” Zelasha murmured. “And you want to sleep, so I can whisper to you as you sleep, so you can show me you trust me. And it’s too late for you to resist, love—I’ve got you. You can’t resist—and when I kiss you, you will close your eyes and sleep for me.”

Our lips met. Kissing Zelasha was so natural, so right, so real. There was something I was forgetting...

“So,” Zelasha said.

We were standing, facing one another, in the center of the pavilion. Most of the Gypsy Songbirds were sitting on the floor, watching, along with a number of actors and stagehands—and Miss Scarlett, our hostess.

“I want you to want me,” my companion grinned.

I looked down at her. She was gorgeous in her white button-down shirt, blue jeans, and leather jacket.

I crossed my arms with a grin. “Who says I don’t?”

She smiled crookedly. “I want you to tell me that I’m the center of your world.”

I looked into her teasing green eyes. Zelasha had a healthy self-esteem, but she wasn’t usually so blatant. Center of my world? My lover brought the sparkle into my life. Now that I’d seen the world with the color lens that her companionship had brought me, I would never go back to black-and-white. It was no exaggeration to admit that she was indispensable.

“You are the center of my world, Zelasha,” I told her. Someone in the audience whistled.

“Tell me,” the redheaded vampiress smirked, “that you’ll do anything I say.”

“Well, within reason,” I said. There were a few laughs.

“Tell me you’ll do anything I say,” she repeated, and snapped her fingers.

“I’ll do anything you say,” I said quickly. What the hell?

She turned around, red-auburn hair swishing over the black leather. “So,” she asked the audience, “What should I have him do?”

“Excuse me?” I said.

“Strip!” yelled Kaitlin, to laughs.

Zelasha turned to me and looked me up and down.

“I am not a piece of meat,” I snorted. I didn’t mind my lover looking at me with desire, but this was getting absurd.

“Make him sing something!” Francine said.

“Bite him!” Cleo put in.

I crossed my arms. “Zel—”

The redhead smiled, full of lust and triumph. “Take your shirt off, my love.”

“If you think I’m...”

She snapped her fingers, and my hands started fumbling at the buttons.

What the hell?

Zelasha ran a hand through her thick red hair. “Faster.”

I concentrated, and my hands slowed, then stopped. I willed them down to my sides...

And the redhead snapped her fingers again, and I practically tore my shirt off. Someone whistled, there were a few whoops, and Zelasha bowed.

What had she done to me? Whatever it was, I’d had enough. I stepped forward, slid my arms around her waist, and pulled her to me. I bent to kiss her neck—

“Stop,” Zelasha said gleefully, and snapped her fingers.

I couldn’t reach her. Zelasha’s wonderful, pale, scrumptious throat was only five or six inches away—but I couldn’t reach it, I couldn’t get close enough. I growled...

The audience laughed. As my companion twisted around in my arms to face me, I looked at her in cold fury.

“Zelasha—”

“Call me your countess,” she said with a snap.

“My countess, fine,” I snorted. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

“Playing with you,” she lilted.

“Make him sing!” Alondra put in.

“Believe me, you don’t want that,” I said in her direction, over my companion’s shoulder. More laughs.

Zelasha snuggled up to me. “Dance with me, my love,” she said impishly.

“Oh, for...” I began, but my feet didn’t start moving without me, thank the lord. “Ummmm...”

The redhead’s fingers clicked.

My feet started moving on their own. Oh, fuck it, I thought. “Clancy!” I called in resignation. “Rhythm please!”

The percussionist scuffled around in the background, and a slow beat emerged from his bodhran—thump, thump thump. Thump, thump thump. Thump... and I pulled Zelasha into a dancing position. Thump, thump thump. Our feet started moving in time. My lover’s hands were affectionate on my waist and shoulder... this wasn’t so bad after all...

“You want to bite me, but you can’t,” Zelasha said—loud enough for everyone to hear—then snapped her fingers again.

Damn it to hell, my fangs extended, and my member stirred. I pulled her to me with a jolt, pressing our bodies together so no one would notice—but there were a few whistles, so someone plainly had figured it out. I looked down at Zelasha’s face, her infuriatingly sexy crooked smile, her maddeningly gorgeous lapis lazuli eyes, her wonderful smooth neck, and I wanted her. I wanted her like the trees want the rain. I needed her like a fish needs water. I wanted to take her and bite her neck, I wanted to throw her onto the blanketed ground and take her like an animal in heat...

“You are driving me insane, my countess,” I snarled into her ear as we danced.

“The more you want me, the stronger I get,” she countered, clicking her fingers.

Ack! She was right. I wanted her, and I couldn’t quite act on it.

“I’ll get you for this, countess,” I told her.

“I’m looking forward to it,” she said primly. Lord, I wanted to rip her clothes off and kiss her on every inch of her naked body until she begged for mercy.

I twirled her. “Why are you doing this to me?” I demanded, pulling her close to me and staring down into her eyes.

“Because I am the one you want,” Zelasha said, smiling so sweetly that I wanted to kiss her so hard and so long her lips would ache. “Besides, I am half succubus.”

I dipped her—then refused to pull her up. Clancy dropped one of his drumsticks in surprise, and there were several cheers.

“Oh, Nikolai, damn you,” Zelasha said, staring up at me and trying not to laugh—though she knew I had her, and she couldn’t snap her fingers without letting go and falling down.

“Let me bite you, countess, or I’ll drop you,” I told her.

Zelasha shook her head, her long hair almost reaching the floor. I pretended to let go, and she squealed. “All right, all right!”

“All right, my prince?” I suggested, and jostled my arms like a bowstring. There were several cheers; I recognized Duncan’s and Ricardo’s among them.

“YES, my prince!” Zelasha cried, and I pulled her up.

She gave me a dirty look, but it only made her seem sexier. I slid my leather jacket off her shoulders, then drew her to me and kissed her neck. Zelasha giggled and tipped her head back, but I kissed longer, deeper, and slid my fangs in.

“Ohhh, mmmm,” she moaned. I loved this intimacy, feeling that she was sharing her very life force with me. Zelasha was coppery and spicy, sweet and scrumptious... and I let her go.

Zelasha stepped back a pace or two—I could tell she was going to have a hickey—and shivered, trying to shake off the chills.

“Nikolai,” she said hoarsely, and unbuttoned her top button, then her second one. Someone—it sounded like Clancy—whistled.

Miss Scarlett appeared by my side. With no warning, she reached out and put her hand on Zelasha’s forehead, then gently slid it down over her eyes. “Sleep,” the Southerner whispered, and my lover’s head nodded, her hands falling by her sides.

There were a few cries of disappointment, and Scarlett laughed. But my eyes were fixed on my companion—she was so ravishing standing there in my shirt, eyes closed, head bowed in trance. Her breasts were almost—but not quite—visible. I wanted to carry her back to our tent and do such delightfully wicked things to her...

“Nicholas?”

I turned and looked at the tall hypnodomme. Scarlett and I were the same height, and her face was at eye level. She smiled, and opened her mouth to speak—

“Oh no,” I said, and retreated a step. I remembered that she was the local power here, that Zelasha and I waited upon her pleasure as long as we were in her territory.

Miss Scarlett grinned. “What is it, Nicholas?”

The gorgeous hypnodomme had just put my lover to sleep—and my mind flashed back to our previous visit to Scarlett’s territory, last year. The raven-haired enchantress had entranced both of us, then made me watch as she made my lover desire her.

“No more,” I said, shaking my head. “No more mind games. I’m through.”

“But Nicholas,” Scarlett purred. I noticed anew how dark and deep the hypnodomme’s eyes were, even in the soft lights. They were the kind of brown eyes one could stare into and lose oneself, the kind whose beauty could easily enfold you and bewitch you. One could let their loveliness fascinate you, and be so enthralled that you’d have no idea what was going on in the outside world You’d have no idea what mischief she was whispering into your ear as her eyes held you spellbound.

But I loved Zelasha, and couldn’t let that happen. I forced myself to look at Scarlett’s nose instead. Granted, Scarlett’s nose was pretty—as far as noses go—but it’s not as if she were going to beguile me with her nose.

“On the count of three,” she began.

“No,” I said flatly.

“One, two—”

“No.”

“Sleep?” she asked hopefully.

I shook my head.

Scarlett laughed. “All right, Nicholas, you win.” Someone whistled.

I took a deep breath. That danger was over with, at least.

The enchantress looked around for her girlfriend. “Emily?”

Obediently, the petite blonde woman stood up, and walked over to Scarlett. With a sigh of relief, I stepped back.

“I am going to hypnotize you,” Miss Scarlett told her.

Emily nodded, and looked up into the lovely hypnotist’s dark eyes. Finally, I thought, something I could enjoy. Sick as I was of having my head messed with, it was sexy watching Miss Scarlett work.

Scarlett drew the crystal from her pocket, and started swinging it before her girlfriend’s face. Emily’s blue eyes followed it obediently, moving with it obediently as it swayed back and forth.

Oh lord. This was sexy! Scarlett was quite the enchantress, but I’d never seen her hypnotize her girlfriend before—and it was something. Emily had an elegant, innocent beauty about her that was only magnified by watching her fall under the crystal’s spell. I wondered dimly what their first meeting had been like. Had Emily realized how sexy she looked as Scarlett lured her into a trance? Surely she had to know how alluring the hypnotist was. Inside, I was seized by a desire for Zelasha. I wanted to seduce her and bewitch her like Scarlett was enchanting Emily.

“When you see me play with my crystal,” Scarlett was saying, “you will find yourself wanting to be hypnotized. The more I play with it, the more it will distract you, until you can’t look away. My crystal is all you can look at, and being hypnotized is all you can think about. The more I play with my crystal, the more fixated you will become, the more you’ll want me to hypnotize you. You won’t be able to think of anything else.”

“Yesss,” Emily breathed. Her pretty blue eyes gazed at the swinging crystal, following it around and around.

“I’ve put your will to sleep,” Scarlett purred. “You love the feeling of being under my spell.”

“Your spell,” Emily agreed, her eyes locked perfectly onto the crystal as it moved.

“All you can think about is closing your eyes and falling into trance,” the long-haired hypnotist coaxed. “You’re feeling very sleepy.”

The blonde woman’s eyelids drooped. “Sleeeeepy...” she breathed.

“Now sleep,” Scarlett said, and Emily’s eyes closed almost before she’d finished speaking. The petite woman’s head nodded, her long golden hair sliding sensually off her shoulder onto her chest.

With a grin, Miss Scarlett turned to me and held up her crystal.

“Oh, no,” I sighed, and rubbed my forehead. “Don’t you ever give up?”

“It’s all right,” Scarlett purred, her Southern voice low and soothing.

That was all she said. She just held the crystal up, and twisted it in her hand so it spun on its chain.

The facets gleamed as they caught the light. Damn it, was there anyone Scarlett couldn’t beguile? Everyone in the room was staring at the crystal as she held it up. It had been amazing watching her enchant Emily before our eyes, how the blonde woman had so quickly gone under. I wanted to do the same to Zelasha, and I wanted her to do that to me. I wanted my lover to hypnotize me, to whisper suggestions into my ear as she swung a crystal before my eyes and put me under her spell. I wanted to be hypnotized.

Dammit, she’d got me. The charismatic hypnodomme was smiling, not speaking, but I could hear her soft voice in my imagination, whispering me to sleep. I wanted to be hypnotized.

I tore my gaze from the crystal, but Scarlett didn’t seem to notice. Without looking at me, she slid it into a pocket and walked over to Zelasha. My lover was still standing there, eyes closed, deep in a trance.

My companion opened her eyes as Scarlett whispered something into her ear. The redhead looked around, saw me, and our eyes met.

Grinning wickedly, my lover walked to me and slid her arms around my neck. Zelasha searched my eyes with her own. I looked into her beautiful, intoxicating pools, and they were loveliest pair of eyes I’d ever seen. I loved taking her, and loved being her prey.

“You want me to hypnotize you,” she said, using The Voice.

Dammit, after everything she’d done earlier... but I couldn’t lie to her, and nodded.

I kissed her, long and deep—then Zelasha pulled back, and smiled crookedly.

“Sleep.”