The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Four Days Later

When Allison awoke on Friday, she found an envelope slipped under her apartment door. The note inside read:

“Dearest Allison,

I am sorry to have been unavailable for the past few days. I had much to do, and we have much to talk about. Can you come see me this evening? Please?

The signature read “Dania.”

Just reading the note gave Allison a little thrill, mingled with a new-found sense of wariness. For she now had a clearer sense about what happened on her visits to Dania’s. Now she knew of her submission—the second night when Dania had first hypnotized her, and then, more degradingly, with Rikki. She could not quite believe she had done the things she remembered—though she knew she had been hypnotized, and at her own request. Nor could she ignore the memory of how wonderful it had made her feel.

Four nights previously, as Allison had dozed in post-hypnotic slumber, Dania had sat by her side, wrestling with her own feelings. Contrary to all experience, she had felt an unusual connection to the young woman she’d entranced, and she now recognized it had been there almost from the moment Allison had knocked on her door. She knew all about infatuation and the power of physical desire, but this was something different. She had occasionally used her hypnotic talents to gratify her own desires in the past, but it had never bothered her afterwards. This time, however, she had felt jealousy, possessiveness and anger, as she had watched another woman dominate the young submissive, even though she was the one who had arranged the entire scene and made it possible. And she also felt a deep sense of shame and guilt. It was all so unfamiliar and disturbing.

She had done what she could to repair the situation. The first step had been to bring Allison out of her hypnotic trance, and lead her back to her own apartment. There Dania had removed all of the hypnotic triggers she had created and unlocked the barriers to Allison’s memories. She knew it would take some time for Allison to remember all that had happened, but she wanted Allison to be fully aware of it, including the crucial role that Dania had played. She vowed she would accept the consequences, no matter what they were.

Danika had remained closeted inside her apartment for the next three days. She had turned off the phone, ignored the buzzer or knocks on her door, played no music that might betray her presence, and pretended the outside world no longer existed. But she did develop and print the culminating photograph of Allison and Rikki, and spent hours transforming it into the final oil painting for her series. The end-result was both deeply satisfying and frightening to behold—for as she stared at the image of Allison on the brink, she felt a longing that she knew she could not fully control.

When the painting was finished, she had slipped the note under Allison’s door.

After reading the note, Allison knew what she had to do. She turned the paper over, wrote, “I will come by at 6.” and slipped it under Dania’s door as she left for work.

As she went about her day’s assignments, Allison kept thinking back to what she had done and what she had felt, and tried to reconcile it with the person she thought she had been only a few days before. She could not forget how Dania had looked to her the first moment they had met, how her voice had sounded, and how her hands and lips and whispers had overcome her. And with that memory came a calm resolution that surprised her.

When she got home from work she slipped off her clothes and took a quick shower, then slipped into a clean pair of cotton panties, a pair of loose linen slacks and a sleeveless cotton top. When her hair was dry she stepped into the hallway, locked her door, and walked slowly down the hall to Dania’s flat. It was precisely 6 PM.

She stood a moment, composed herself, and tapped on the door.

After a pause, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe? And then the door opened.

Dania stood there, gazing at her somberly, her eyes searching Allison’s face. And then she spoke, a slight tremor in her deep voice:

“Oh, my dear. Thank you. . . I am so glad you’re here. Please come in.”

She extended a hand, and without thinking Allison rushed to her and embraced her. Whatever happened next, she wanted to be close for just a moment, to break the tension between them.

They stood still for a moment, and then Allison broke the hug with a shy smile.

“I’m sorry. . . I had to do that. But we do need to talk.”

Dania nodded. “Do come in. But please let me go first, for I have a confession to make.”

Allison followed Dania into the living room. . . and sat alone in a leather armchair. Dania brought a bottle of wine and two glasses from the kitchen, poured one out for each them, and sat on the couch. She was wearing black corduroy jeans, boots, and long-sleeved silk man’s shirt, and Allison felt the same tug of attraction she had felt the first night. But she sat quietly, leaving her wine untouched, and waited.

There was a long pause. Dania seemed about to speak, stopped, took another swallow, and put the glass down. She murmured something that Allison could not hear, shook her head, and then looked up.

“Allison. . . what I am about to say is not easy for me. But it must begin with these words:I’m so sorry.”

Allison sat silently, waiting.

“You came here last week with an innocent request: to borrow my shower. And I saw you and found you so innocently appealing. . . I just wanted you so badly. I was curious if you might be something more than a neighbor. And when you told me your story my interest grew, and I thought how exciting it would be to open your eyes to a new experience—a new realm of physical pleasure. And so I did, and your reaction was more intense than I could possibly have imagined.

She paused, and then said quietly: “And so was mine.”

“But there I betrayed you, for I let my desire overcome my better judgment and all of my training. I told you that hypnosis could not make you do things that you did not want to do—and that was true—but I also told you that I would not take advantage of you when you were under hypnotic suggestion. And there I misled you.”

“Even worse, I selfishly decided to use you for my art. I had one last portrait to complete—and the thought of having you in it became irresistible. So I called Rikki—an old friend whose inclinations I know quite well—and asked if she would be willing to help. I knew she would agree—she loves finding new playthings.”

Again, she fell silent, her gaze drifting away from Allison. But she turned back, and reconnected.

“Allison, please: that was terribly wrong. Hypnosis had opened new doors for you, but when you were entranced you were not in a position to decide for yourself what you wanted. It seemed clear to me that you were enjoying the experience in the moment, but I should never have led you into that encounter without your consent. I have thought of what I did many times this week, and it fills me with shame each time.”

Dania gave a wan smile. “And guilt and shame are not emotions I am accustomed to feeling.”

“Then I felt something else, something I have not experienced for many years. When you and Rikki were together, I felt jealous, and angry for arranging for her to touch you. There was no rational reason for that feeling—you and I had only met a couple of days before—but I couldn’t deny it. And I realized that I wanted you for myself, but only if you felt the same way about me. Without hypnosis, without triggers, without manipulation.”

“So I removed all the hypnotic suggestions I had planted in your consciousness and I let your memories of what had happened here resurface. And tonight I simply want to tell you how profoundly sorry I am, and ask for your forgiveness.”

Allison sat silently for several minutes, looking down at her own hands, folded in her lap, and weighing her feelings. Dania looked on, wondering how she would react and what she would say. Then Allison looked up, and met Dania’s gaze.

“I forgive you,” she said simply. “But you need to know why.”

She reached out and took one of Dania’s hands in her own.

“Had I not met you, I would still not know what an orgasm felt like. It turns out they are rather delicious. I’d like more.

“Had I not met you, I would still not know that I seem to be rather attracted to women—or at least to some women. I discovered they are rather enjoyable too.”

“Had I not met you, I wouldn’t know that I like it when someone else takes charge.”

“And I’m beginning to think these things are connected, something else I did not even suspect before I met you.”

Allison paused.

“So I forgive you. But on three conditions.”

Dania eyed her warily.

“And they are?” she asked.

“First of all,” said Allison. “Did you finish the painting?”

The older woman nodded.

Allison stood up, and said in a firm voice: “That’s my first condition: show it to me.”

Dania rose and said, “Follow me.” They walked back down the hall and entered her studio. There on the easel, was the painting she made from the photograph. Allison saw it and felt her breathing quicken—for there she was, back arched. . .skin glistening, her eyes closed and her face in the throes of obvious, imminent desire, as a long, slim, shadowy figure hovered in the background, hands reaching around and grasping her breasts and hips driving into her from behind. Allison closed her eyes and replayed the moment in her memory. . . recalling how much she had enjoyed it.

She opened her eyes and stood silent for a minute, taking it in. Then she turned, approached Dania, and stood an arm’s length away, looking up and meeting her gaze.

“Well, one thing is clear: I don’t feel jealous of the other women anymore. And thank you for disguising my features so that no one will recognize me.”

Dania looked at her with a growing sense of relief

“And the other two conditions?” she asked.

Allison smiled.

“I don’t think they are unreasonable. But not here. Follow me.”

She led Dania slowly down the hall into the bedroom. When they got there, she let go of Dania’s hand and turned again to face her.

“The second condition is: You must make love to me again. I will do whatever you want, including pleasuring you however you want me to. Tell me what you want me to do—and I’ll do it. Because I like your controlling me—it turns me on. And you must make me come, but this time you must not use hypnosis. Is that clear?”

“Why?” asked Dania.

Allison replied: “Because I need to know if it feels different when I am not in a trance.”

Dania nodded, scarcely believing what she was hearing.

“There’s one more condition,” added Allison. “But it’s the most important.”

Now Dania was smiling. “And what is that?”

Allison returned the smile: “Isn’t it obvious? You must make love to me at least one more time after that. But you must hypnotize me again before you do.”

“Why?” asked Dania.

“Because it’s the only way for me to know for sure which I enjoy most.”

Dania nodded, and felt the stirrings of desire inside.

“I understand. I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I am grateful for it. I accept your last two conditions. I have only one question, my dear: when would you like this experiment to begin?”

To answer her, Allison stepped out of her sandals, unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it aside. She unfastened her slacks and let them slide to the floor, and slid her panties down and kicked them away. She stood, unashamed and naked, and opened her arms.

“If you don’t mind, I was thinking, like, right this instant,” said Allison.

Dania rushed to her arms, their lips met, and the two women fell together onto the bed, laughing with delight.