The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

After a three-hour flight and a twenty-minute cab ride, I was finally at my first Erotic Hypnosis Convention! I was very nervous while checking in to the hotel, but that was fine. I felt that I had my expectations managed pretty well. I wasn’t expecting to make lifelong friends or anything. I just hoped to maybe meet some of the people behind screen names I recognized, even though I knew they wouldn’t know who I was. I was just going to be another random guy with roughly the same fetish as everyone else for once. Maybe if I was surrounded by other people who shared my weird niche kink, I’d feel less weird. But the real draw for me was the panels. I was going to get to learn what sorts of things erotic hypnosis could actually do, and I’d get to see it in action. This was going to make erotic hypnosis go from a theoretical thing I was fascnated by to a thing I’d actually seen happen.

The first panel on my schedule was just titled “Hypnotic Amnesia,” which covers a lot of ground, all of which I found very erotic. Just the idea of being made to forget things like my name makes me feel kind of scared and vulnerable, which as it happens is also tied very closely to my feelings of arousal. And I knew that some hypnotists do this thing where they have you do something, then make you forget that you did it. I was very interested in that, but I was also pretty skeptical. I’ve got a really good memory, and when I’d listened to MP3s off the internet, none of them ever managed to have effects that were that dramatic. Sometimes I’d realie that I couldn’t remember the middle of a file, but I always had a sneaking suspicion that I’d fallen asleep.

All the panels were in one or another of the conference and banquet rooms in the hotel, so I wanted to wander around and kind of get the lay of the land. When I found the room I was looking for, there were still about fifteen minutes before the panel was scheduled to start. I was embarrassed about being so early, but at least there was someone else there that early. This is where I would oridnarily deliver one of those weirdly anatomical physicala descriptions that imply I was able to intuit her bra size from across the room, but instead I’ll just say she was pretty, with shoulder-length brown hair. She was sitting in the front row writing something in a notebook, and she looked around at me as I walked in.

“Oh, hello!” she said. “Are you here for Hypnotic Amnesia?”

“I sure am,” I said. “Well, I’m here for the panel, not necessarily the amnesia itself.”

She gave a little half-smile and looked me up and down. “Are you sure? I’ll need a volunteer to demonstrate on, and you look like someone who likes helping out.”

My mouth felt very dry suddenly. “Me?” I said, stupidly. I immediately started berating myself in my head. Of course I wanted to volunteer! Why would I even have come to this convention if I didn’t want to get hypnotized? And here I was, with an experienced hypnotist offering to use me as a guinea pig for a class and I didn’t jump at the chance?

While all that went on in my head, I guess I stood there frozen. She got up and walked up to me, a little closer to me than I’d expected, and locked eyes with me. She had large brown eyes that seemed knowing and amused, like she could read my internal struggle.

“You. I think you’ll be perfect. My name’s Amber. What’s yours?”

“I’m Joe.”

“It’s good to meet you, Joe.” She smiled broadly as people started trickling in. “Are you ready to learn about hypnotic amnesia?”

“Yes,” I said. I was starting to feel more normal. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just sit here in the audience for now. I’ll call you up when it’s time.”

She started by introducing herself and managing expectations. You know the sort of thing, “Hypnosis is not magic, results are not guaranteed, the human mind is very complex” and so forth. By the time she called me up out of the audience, my expectations had been managed so much that I didn’t think anything would really happen. This was basically stage hypnosis, right? She’d say something, I’d play along, and everyone would get a thrill from imagining “What if this were really possible?” As she laid out the basic concepts of amnesia, I could feel myself relax. This wasn’t going to be nearly as stressful as I’d been expecting. I’d probably just built it all up in my head to be huge and intimidating, but I was in a safe place. Everyone around me was just as big a weirdo as I was, right?

I admit that I wasn’t paying close attention to what she was saying, because I was so in my head about being an official volunteer. But when she called for a volunteer, my hand went up and I walked up feeling very little anxiety. She had me sit down facing her while she said a few more things to the audience.

“Sometimes,” she said, “subjects who are really eager are harder to hypnotize because their conscious mind gets in the way. But sometimes it’s easier.” She snapped her fingers.

I blinked.

“So!” she said cheerfully. “How do you feel?”

“I feel fine,” I said cautiously. “Have we started?”

She laughed. “You’re so smart! Most of the time, people in your position say something like ‘When are we going to start?’ But we started a while ago, as you guessed. You were guessing, right?”

I was. If something had happened, I didn’t remember it. I tried to focus my mind, but the last thing I remembered was definitely her snapping her fingers. It was very loud and echoed in my memory. I realized I hadn’t answered her question and must have just been sitting there looking dumb, but it had been so long with everyone watching me that I just shrugged and smiled.

“Well,” she said, “here’s the good news. You’re an excellent subject, and you have indeed been hypnotized. I demonstrated a number of techniques for hypnotic amnesia, so it’s not at all surprising that you don’t remember anything I did. And if you’re good, I’ll let you find out about some of the things you did.”

“The things I did?” I asked. “Like what?”

“Ah-ah!” she scolded me with a smile. “Don’t you think it takes away the point of amnesia if I just tell you right away? I like you having a big hole in your mind that you can’t get to. And don’t you like it too? Isn’t it kind of fun and scary being the only person in this whole room who doesn’t know what you’ve been doing for the last hour and a half?”

I’d missed a lot of the class! And she was right, because the sensation of being watched by a whole bunch of people who all knew things about me that I didn’t was very disconcerting.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said. “How about a quick demonstration? Just a little taste.” She directed my attention to a television that had been set up facing the audience, then she held up a remote control.

She pressed the button, and I was not surprised to see myself on the screen. “My name is Joe,” I saw myself saying. “I’m fascinated by erotic hypnosis, and I love the idea of someone having control over my thoughts and perceptions. I’m also very aroused at the thought of my limits being ignored, of someone taking advantage of me. Even though I wouldn’t want it to actually happen, it turns me on a lot. I hope Mistress Amber does something like that today, but I don’t think it’s possible. I would like it very much if she would knowingly violate my limits and take advantage of my desires, regardless of how much I might protest.”

Amber was smiling as she paused the video. I looked around in panic, but none of the people in the audience seemed surprised at either my words in the video or my fear and surprise upon seeing them again. A few people in the audience were smiling at me, with attitudes that seemed to range from fondness to predatory lust.

“Do you remember saying those things, Joe?” she asked.

“No!” I protested. “I don’t!”

“But would you say they accurately represent your inner thoughts?”

The thing was, it was pretty accurate. Even though I knew the impulses were self-destructive, one of the things I found hottest about hypnosis was the way it could blur issues of consent. Specifically, my consent. I nodded. “Well, yes. I do feel that way, but I don’t think I’d say in front of an audience of perverts—no offense.” That got a laugh from the audience, which made me start to feel a little better and more relaxed. If nothing else, I probably wasn’t going to be judged too harshly for having these desires.

“I mean, I do have fantasies about being violated or abused, but those are just fantasies. We have to have limits in the real world, don’t we?”

“Oh, Joe. You’re so sweet. Of course we have to have limits. I promised you that we had a full and open negotiation about your limits and what you would be comfortable with.”

“We did?”

“We absolutely did. Of course, since you can’t remember it, you’ll have to take my word for it. But you trust me, don’t you? Think hard, now. Do you trust me?”

I thought about it. I wasn’t sure I did. All I knew about her was that she’d made me forget stuff, but on the other hand that was exactly why I was there. I wanted to give the right answer, so I felt it was important to figure out how I actually felt about her. I couldn’t think of any reason not to trust her, necessarily. But the situation felt like it was already completely out of my control, and that scared me. But did that mean that Amber scared me? Or was it just the situation, which was one I’d hoped to be in?

I guess she got tired of waiting for me to answer her. She held up the remote control again, and I saw myself on the screen, saying “Mistress Amber is my god. She is all-powerful and I worship her. I am completely devoted to her and I do everything she says. She is always right, and she is my superior in every way. I am lucky to be allowed in her presence. I love her. I would do anything for her. Mistress Amber is my god.”

“Seems like you trust me a little,” she said. “In fact, seems to me like you trust me kind of a lot.”

I was confused. “I don’t feel that way,” I said. “Am I supposed to think you’re a god? You’re just a hypnotist who made me say things under trance.”

“Not a god,” she said, smiling. “Your god. I have complete control over you, don’t I? I can make you do anything I want.”

“Shouldn’t it be goddess?”

“I don’t see why it should be gender-specific. When people talk about goddesses in our culture, they usually mean members of a pantheon, like Aphrodite or Athena or Freya or something. As far as you’re concerned, there’s only me now. I am omnipotent and omniscient. I am everything to you. You have no secrets from me and I am all powerful. So I’m your god. Do you understand now?”

“But...if you’re my god, shouldn’t I be in love with you? Shouldn’t I find you the most beautiful woman in the world?”

“Oh, you’re in love with me.” She turned toward the audience. “Right folks? Is he in love with me?”

The audience cheered, nodding their heads enthusiastically. They weren’t laughing at me. They were encouraging me. And encouraging her. It ought to have been humiliating, but no one in the room seemed to be judging me. Other than myself, of course. And even I wasn’t judging myself as harshly as I usually did, if only because there was so much else going on.

“See? You just don’t know it on a conscious level yet.” She leaned back in her chair, utterly relaxed. And are you sure I’m not the most beautiful woman in the world?”

“No...I mean...I mean you’re pretty, but you’re not knock-my-eyes-out gorgeous.”

“Oh yeah?”

She leaned forward, and then I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

“Are my eyes perfect? Is my nose perfect? How about my lips? Full, wet, red...have you ever seen sexier lips?”

I hadn’t. But I couldn’t speak. All I could do was stare at how beautiful she was and try to memorize every detail of her face.

Then she leaned back and the spell was broken. She was still attractive, but on a human scale.

“See? I can be incredibly beautiful to you any time I want. I can be ANYTHING to you any time I want. Because I’m your god. You already know it, but it’s okay if you take some time accepting it. It’s sweet. It makes your conscious submission more meaningful. And anyway, if you show real resistance I can make you do or say anything I want. I already have.” She pushed a button on the remote control again, and the screen came to life.

It was me again, saying “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I would do anything for you. Thank you for even looking at me. You are truly my god. You are everything. I am abjectly in love with you and I know I’m unworthy of you. You are infinitely greater than me in every way.”

She turned off the television again.

“Hang on,” I said. “That’s just me saying things. I don’t believe those things, and I’m not convinced I believed them when I said them. How do I know you didn’t have me record those things as a joke to play on myself once I couldn’t remember the context?”

“It’s okay if you don’t believe it right away. It’ll take some time for you to adjust.” She smiled again. She seemed to find my resistance amusing. “Do you want another demonstration? What’s a thing you would NEVER do? Something where even the thought of it frightens you, even if secretly you think it would be incredibly hot if someone made you do it. Can you think of anything that you definitely one hundred percent would never ever do, regardless of how often you think about it?”

“I don’t think I want to tell you something like that.”

“Oh, but you DO!” she laughed. “When you were under trance, you shared all of your fears with me. With everyone.” She waved her hand toward the audience, who I’d almost forgotten about. They were smiling and enjoying the show. A couple of them were leaning forward eagerly, I guess to see what I’d do next. Some were taking notes. I wished I could get a look at them, because they probably had a pretty good description of whatever I’d been up to. And also it turns out that it’s hard to learn anything about amnesia if you’re the one experiencing it. I was probably getting less out of the class than anyone else, just because my conscious experience of it was so much shorter.

“I thought you could just make me? Didn’t you claim to be my god?”

“Of course I could make you do whatever I want, darling. You’ll learn more about that later. But for now, I want to see you make yourself do it. For the moment, it pleases me to allow you the illusion of free will. Now go ahead. Debase yourself for your god. Confess your shameful desires.”

“No. I’m not going to do that.” I felt that it was important to establish that I still had the ability to make decisions on my own. “You’re not my god. If I’ve already told you what I’m afraid of, why should I do it again? And if I haven’t, which is what I strongly suspect, you’re just trying to trick me into it.”

“Oh, sweetie. I’m not trying to trick you. You’re already thoroughly tricked and befuddled. You don’t have any secrets from me at all. But I understand if you’re feeling a little embarrassed about the images flowing through your head right now. Are you maybe picturing yourself giving another man pleasure? Perhaps you’re imagining what it would be like if you were down on your knees, kissing and licking and sucking and hearing him moan with pleasure?”

I was. As she said those things, they were all I could think about. I’d thought about it before, of course. One of the hottest things about hypnotism to me was the way I could be forced to do things against my will, which of course raised inevitable questions about how something could be “against my will” if it was something I wanted.

The video that appeared on the screen next shocked me. There I was, licking somebody’s balls. And then my tongue went lovingly up the shaft. It looked like I was really into giving that blowjob. And I didn’t remember it at all. This left me with mixed emotions, because first of all, I’m straight. And second, if I’m going to have the experience of sucking cock, I’d like to at least feel like I was there for it. The way this was playing out, I felt like I was being cheated of the experience of feeling violated. I was being shown that I’d done something, but it didn’t feel real, because I only had a third-person view of it. Maybe I should have reacted more strongly to it, but I’d certainly considered the possibility of being forced to do it. Not that I looked like I’d been forced. As far as I could judge from the video that was playing, I looked like I was 100% into it.

“I don’t know how I feel about this...” I said.

“Oh, that’s all right, darling,” she said. “I can help with that. You feel scared, because you didn’t really believe you could be hypnotized. And you feel turned on for the same reason. You feel betrayed because you didn’t agree to this, but you also feel relieved because you didn’t choose to do it. You feel a little bit in awe of me because you’re seeing how much power I have over you, but you’re also a little angry that I would do this. And you’re ashamed of your anger because you know that I’m above you in every way and you have no right to be angry at something I choose for you. Your anger is that of a sulky child. And also you feel disappointed because while you can see yourself doing that, you can’t remember how it felt, so it doesn’t feel quite real. ”

She smiled at me while I took that in. “Would you like to remember the blowjob for yourself?”

I wasn’t sure.

“All you have to do is pray to your god. Say, ‘Mistress Amber, who is my god, who is my superior in every way, who controls me, please permit me to remember that cock I sucked in front of this entire room.’”

“What happens if I don’t say that?”

“Then you don’t get access to that memory, do you? You have to earn it. If you don’t say it, then you’ll be the only one who doesn’t know what you did. Well, one of the things you did. Whenever anyone in this room looks at you, that’s what they’ll be thinking about. Don’t you want to know what they’ll be picturing?”

Finally I said it. I said “Mistress Amber, who is my god, who is my superior in every way, who controls me, please permit me to remember that cock I sucked in front of this entire room.” While I said it, I was a little surprised that I could remember every word, and I wondered if I’d said it before. But that moment of curiosity was suddenly swept away by a visceral memory of a hard cock pounding the back of my throat while I gagged. I could taste the precum, and I could feel my stomach convulsing as it tried to eject the intruder. I could feel the hands in my hair and the back of my head as the cock pounded into me again and again. I could feel the tears leak from my eyes, and I could hear a voice snarling, “That’s right, bitch. That’s the way to do it. Open wide for daddy.”

And then the memory ended abruptly. I didn’t remember any of the sweet, loving blowjob I’d seen. The only memory I got was a few seconds of being facefucked. And now that I’d had that memory, I could swear my throat felt sore. And was there a weird taste in my mouth? No, surely I was imagining that. Was I salivating? Were my eyes filling with tears, or was it just the memory? At that moment, there was no question in my mind that Mistress Amber could do anything to me, or make me do anything she wanted.

Now she was speaking directly to me. Before, everything had been part of a demonstration, and she’d pitched her voice for the audience. But as she made eye contact with me, the audience fell away from my awareness. All I could do was listen to her.

“As your god, I hold the key to your mind. And of course I control your body. But I’ve shared that key with the owner of the cock you sucked. So just know that for the rest of the weekend, there’s a pretty good chance that you’ll have a few more rounds of cock, even though you won’t remember all of them. You wanted to make friends, right? You’ve made one friend already! And you can probably look forward to making lots more friends, too. You’ve thrown yourself into the experience so well. Everyone’s proud of you.”

That somehow prompted a round of applause from the audience. I couldn’t help feeling proud of myself, even if I didn’t know why, exactly. It felt good to be reminded that everyone in the room was a more experienced pervert than me, so if I was ashamed of myself I was the only one. This was an environment that was built for acceptance of weird sex and brain stuff. Unfortunately, as soon as I started feeling safe, I also remembered that some of those perverts were specifically experienced in sadistically taking advantage of vulnerable people like me. So they might not judge me, but who knows what else would happen?

Mistress Amber turned to the audience again. “As you can see, there are a lot of things you can do when you can blank out parts of your subject’s memory. I’ll be giving another panel this afternoon about implanting false memories, which can also be a lot of fun.” She glanced over at me. “By the way, Joe, if you get bored, feel free to spend some time wondering if the memory you just experienced was of something that really happened. Maybe it was just something you desperately wish would happen, and your god graciously manifested it in your mind. Instead of your throat.”

Great, now I didn’t know what to believe. I tried to scan the audience for clues, but they mostly just laughed or took more notes. A couple of people smiled and gave me a thumbs up, which I found encouraging. Regardless of what had actually happened, or was going to happen, at least I seemed to be making a good impression. This was probably better than just hiding in my hotel room. Everyone started standing up and leaving.

“We’re done,” said Mistress Amber.” That’s the end of the session. Go mingle. You don’t remember it, but you’ve met a lot of people. I should say that they’ve met you, but that’s part of the fun. At least one person in that room had their dick in your mouth. And you said SUCH private things. Some of them were just for my ears, but a lot of your precious secrets and fantasies are basically public knowledge. So you shouldn’t have any trouble making friends. And some of your new friends will have keys to your unconscious, which will really speed up the bonding process. And you should go have lunch. I’ve given you some posthypnotic suggestions so you can have fun guessing whether you’re doing something because it was your idea or because your god wanted you to. Go.”

I wanted to argue with her, but I also didn’t want to look like I wasn’t a good sport. And anyway, I was pretty hungry. So I just turned around and left without saying anything else.”