The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

‘Ding... ding... ding... ding... ding.’

The chime on the large oak desk pronounced the arrival of the fifth hour past noon. The man seated in the leather chair glanced up at it for a brief moment, then swung his gaze back at the tall pile of file folders in front of him. A small, rueful smile bent his lips as a knock came on the door.

“Yes?” The door opened, partially revealing the pleasing features of a pretty middle aged woman in a burgundy dress. “The late afternoon mail is here, Mr. Ferris.” As he nodded, she entered the office, briskly crossing the woven beige carpet in a half-dozen steps. After depositing several letters on the corner of the desk, she inquired, “Would you like me to make a late afternoon cup of coffee for you before I leave?”

Bruce Ferris stretched back in his seat, slightly loosening his tie. “No thank you, Myrna. Even though it’s Monday, I’m going to try to get out of here by six tonight for a change.”

The declaration brought a smile to the secretary’s face. “That’s good to hear, Mr. Ferris. Lord knows you work hard enough.” She paused for a moment, glancing at her watch. “I’ll be here for about another 15 minutes, so please let me know if you change your mind.”

“Thank you Myrna. If I don’t see you before you leave, have a good night.” He flashed a brief smile at her as she closed the door softly, and then returned to his work.

A short time later, his phone beeped. “Yes Myrna?” he inquired flatly without breaking stride on the umpteenth sales report of the afternoon. Her filtered voice replied, “A call from Dr. Seaver’s office, Mr. Ferris. Would you like me to ask them to call back tomorrow?”

The information snapped him out of his report-induced stupor. “No, I’ll take the call” he informed her, just an edge of anticipation creeping into his voice. “Very well,” came the reply, “I’m putting the call through on line one.”

A split second later, the red light adjacent to the label demarking line one illuminated. Ferris was not sure why Dr. Seaver’s office was calling, but somehow he knew he needed to take the call. He cleared his throat before picking up the receiver.

“This is Bruce Ferris, how may I help you?” A young woman’s voice responded. Ferris recognized it immediately as belonging to Meg, Dr. Seaver’s receptionist. “Hello Mr. Ferris, this is Meg from Dr. Seaver’s office. The doctor would like to know if she might have a few minutes of your time.”

Ferris posture stiffened with the news. “Why yes, by all means, put her on,” he agreed, trying not to sound as anxious as he suddenly felt. The voice on the other end did not respond immediately, leading Ferris to worry the call had been dropped. Finally, the caller returned to thank him, and inform Ferris that the doctor would be on the line in a few moments.

The soft voice of the young lady was replaced by muzak, but Ferris paid that fact no mind. He was filled with an eager anticipation that belied his reputation as an impassive man who played the game of life with his poker face on.

After about 30 seconds, another female voice materialized on the other end of the phone. It had a distinctly different tenor than the receptionist’s; this new voice was rich, vibrant, as deep as the ocean and as uplifting as the sky. As the first notes hit his ear drums, Ferris’ pulse began to surge.

“Hello Mr. Ferris, this is Dr. Seaver. Thank you so much for taking my call. I hope I haven’t caught you at an inopportune time. Are you alone and able to talk for a short while?” A small sheen of sweat broke out above Ferris’ top lip as he replied. “No problem doctor, not at all. What a pleasant surprise to hear from you.” He paused a moment as he anticipated the reply to the question he now posed: “I am alone now, in fact. What can I do for you?”

The silky voice seemed to fill his head, as though her presence was far more immediate than just a voice transmitted over miles of wire and cable. “Well, I’ve been reviewing my notes on your treatment, and I have something to ask you.”

He intentionally paused momentarily, desperately trying to maintain the facade that her call was no more moving to him than any of the 20 or so he had already taken that day. “And what might that be, doctor?”

“Well, to help me assess the success of your treatment, and whether any further sessions might be necessary, I would like you to take some time to document your experience as one of my patients. Would you be willing to write on a piece of paper what you remember to be the course of treatment and its effects on your life now?”

The request caught him off-guard, and he was suddenly confused as to why she would make such a request. “Well, I guess I could, but there wouldn’t be much to tell. I could just sum it up in a few sentences... I was referred to you because I was having trouble sleeping; I saw you about 4 or 5 times, and you treated me with hypnosis and taught me some relaxation techniques, and now I’m sleeping well again. There’s really not a whole lot beyond that.”

Her reply betrayed a certain amusement in her voice. Somehow, he could sense those perfect pearly teeth exposed by her the spreading up her sumptuous lips. “Well, perhaps I can be of help to you in your recollection. Did you by any chance receive a letter in a small manila envelope from my office today?”

Ferris looked quickly through the pile of letters on his desk; there was indeed such an item near the bottom of the pile. “In fact, I did. I’m afraid I haven’t gotten to it yet.”

The bemused voice continued, “Please open it for me now.” Ferris opened a drawer, withdrew a letter opener, and slit the flap. “Take out the picture inside, please” the doctor continued.

The picture would be almost nonsensical to the average person; it was simply that of a woman’s forearm, from just below her elbow to the middle of the hand. The only point of interest in the picture was the expensive golden Swiss watch that surrounded the supple wrist.

“Look carefully at my watch Bruce. Do you see it?” The man’s eyes bore in on the image, fixated and unblinking. “Yes,” he replied in a distracted voice, “yes, I see it.”

The voice on the other end of the phone exhaled with satisfaction, and took on a softer edge. “Very good. It’s now sleep time Bruce... ”

Within a split second, his eyelids dropped. All expression left his suddenly flaccid face. After a pause, the sultry voice returned through the phone. “Now you’ve returned to my special trance, Bruce. You’re deeper now than ever before, and you’ll be even deeper every time you return to this special place. Do you understand this?”

Ferris lips parted unevenly as he softly muttered, “Yes, Mistress... I understand.”

“That’s very good Bruce,” the woman’s voice continued, “Very good indeed. Now you may open your eyes as you listen to my instructions.” At that, the man’s eyes fluttered open, not quite returning to full mast. “Yes Mistress,” he replied somewhat automatically, “my eyes are now open.”

“Wonderful. Now, it’s very important that you not be disturbed for the next few hours, and that no one knows what we’re discussing. We must maintain doctor/patient confidentiality, mustn’t we? Remain in trance but take whatever action is needed to ensure that.”

The instruction seemed to rouse him, and he arose from the chair. “Yes Mistress,” he answered less flatly, “Please hold while I check the outer office.” He depressed the hold button on the phone, and the red light began blinking accordingly.

As he opened the door, Ferris was greeted by the sight or his secretary retrieving her coat from the coat tree in the far corner of the room. “You’re leaving now Myrna?” he inquired “Yes Mr. Ferris, unless you need me for anything else. Are you leaving early like you said?” He forced a smile to his face, trying to play the part of congenial employer. “No, I have something I have to do before I leave. Have a good night.”

After watching her depart, he returned to his office, taking the added precaution of closing and locking the door. Retrieving the handset of his phone, he clicked the hold button once more. “Mistress, my secretary has just left and everyone else is gone too. We’re alone now and we shouldn’t be disturbed.”

“Marvelous, my pet. Now, please sit back down at your desk, and take out some paper and a pen.” Opening the center drawer of the desk, Ferris pulled out a few sheets of company stationary and a shiny gold pen. “I’ve got them, Mistress” he reported.

“Now, as I was saying, I want to test the effectiveness of your treatments. I want you to take some time and write down what you remember about your visits to my office. Once you’ve completed this task, call me back at this number. Oh, and to ensure our conversation is private, call me back on your cell phone.”

Ferris nodded, accepting the assignment. “Yes Mistress. I’ll do that now. Goodbye.” With that he hung up the phone and set to work.

As he began to write, the pen paused momentarily as he pondered why mistress was interested in his recollections of his treatment sessions with her. Unable to satisfy his curiosity with an immediate answer, he decided that it was enough that she wanted him to do this, and he returned his full attention to the task at hand.

Twenty minutes later, after filling a page in a half, he called Dr. Seaver back as she had instructed. “Have you completed your task, my pet?” she inquired in a whimsical voice. “Yes, Mistress,” he dutifully replied. “Please read to me what you wrote,” she continued.

For the next few minutes, he read her a rather clinical dissertation of his five visits to her office. His narration focused on relation techniques, hypnotic inductions and suggestions to help him sleep better at night. He ended with a statement attesting that after the conclusion of the fifth visit, he was sleeping well enough at night to consider the treatments perhaps complete.

“That’s all you remember?” she inquired. “That’s everything?”

“Well, I could flesh out the details more if you’d like,” he replied, “but those are the basic events.” She paused momentarily before replying, “No... that’s quite all right, my pet. Tell me, is there a shredder in your office?”

“Yes, right here next to the desk,” he replied. “Good,” she answered, “I want you to shred all of the papers you just read to me right now.” Without hesitation, he complied, the grinding sound briefly intruding upon their quiet conversation.

“They’re shredded, just as you wanted Mistress,” he reported back to her. “Excellent. Now, take out some more paper. You may need a bit more this time.” Reaching back in the drawer, he complied and informed her of such.

“Now, I want you to repeat the last exercise. Report to me what you remember from your sessions with me, concentrating particularly on your third session onward. But first, I want you to turn the picture of my watch over and read what’s on the back of it.”

Retrieving the picture, he flipped it over. The words Periwinkle Traffic Process were written upon the back side.

At the sight of the words, his eyelids briefly fluttered, and a slight sigh escaped his lips. “Have you done as I said?” the sensuous voice inquired.

“Yes, Mistress... I remember now.”

“That’s very good,” she replied in a satisfied tone. “But to make certain, I want you to do as I said earlier. Write down everything you remember, concentrating especially on the third, fourth and fifth sessions.”

“Certainly. I’ll get to it immediately.”

“Yes, do that my pet. Call me back on your cell phone as soon as you’ve finished,” she instructed before hanging up.

As the desk clock chimed 6 p.m., he set to work, seemingly oblivious to all else than the matter of Dr. Seaver’s assignment to him.

Per your instructions, Mistress Joanna, here are my recollections of my sessions with you…

I came to see you for the first time back on Friday, June 8th, a few days after I had been referred to you by a Miss Dina Walters in our HR department, as my persistent insomnia was seriously affecting my job performance. She told me she knew that you had successfully treated several others in the company, and in general, she spoke very highly of you.

The First Session. Our first session was a kind of a mutual feeling out between the two of us. You asked many questions about my professional and personal life, which you said were essential to find the underlying causes of my condition. I didn’t like answering the questions about my divorce, but I figured I needed to cooperate within reason.

Towards the end of the session, we began discussing some relaxation techniques you thought might help me sleep better, but you also said that our earlier discussion didn’t really reveal the probable cause of my insomnia. You then proposed a different course of treatment.

Leaning closer to me, flashing those beautiful ice blue eyes of your, you asked, “Tell me Mr. Ferris, have you ever been hypnotized before? I mean in a professional, clinical manner. Of course, we all commonly experience hypnosis in our daily lives; we just don’t give it much thought.”

You proceeded to go into detail about how you had used hypnosis successfully on other patients, and told me that it could hold the key to effective treatment. I consented.

The Second Session was held a week later, and was centered around what you called ‘establishing an idealized induction/trance dynamic.’ It was an unusually long session—over three hours—and you took me into my first trance after having me relax in your very soft leather chair.

I was surprised I went under so quickly; I’m very strong willed and I initially doubted whether I could even be hypnotized. I certainly could, because you then proceeded to hypnotize me another eight times, taking me in an out of trance. With each successive trance, I seemed to go deeper faster, which again surprised me.

The Third Session The first indication you had other plans for me happened next week during my third session with you. By the beginning of the session, you had pretty much gained total trust in me of you, based on your professional conduct and presence from our first two sessions. The fact that I was sleeping much better by this time, and having a much easier time dealing with the chaos at work reinforced that trust in you.

During the middle of the session, you started asking me additional questions about myself, saying that the information would help you refine your efforts, thereby increasing the chances for a completely successful course of treatment. As this seemed perfectly reasonable and desirable to me, I consented.

After placing me in a deep trance again, you proceeded to ask a number of questions, some quite personal. Because I trusted you and believed in what you were trying to accomplish, I answered each truthfully, even those questions that dealt with topics I was not really comfortable discussing.

Then you hit me with a question that demonstrated your keen powers of observation and opened a layer of vulnerability in my psyche. “Bruce, I know this is out of left field, but I’ve noticed that you frequently look at my watch. Do you find it somehow distracting?” Even in the depth of my trance, I felt the beads of sweat form on my forehead as I struggled to come up with an answer.

“Well, I... I do find it very attractive, yes. But I don’t know what that has to do with...”

Before I could finish, you must have recognized the depth of my discomfort, because you stopped me right there. In a very reassuring voice, you repeated to me that you were asking these questions only as an attempt to get at the root cause of my troubles, and that whatever information I supplied would be held in strictest confidence and applied for proper treatment purposes only.

You then brought me out of trance and told me that you suspected I was holding back on a key piece of information that was affecting my condition. Of course, you said, I wasn’t intentionally holding out, but was doing so as a result of on an involuntary defense mechanism kicking in. You then stated that it was essential that we defeat that mechanism so that she could get to the root of my problems.

Again, all of this seemed totally reasonable to me, so I gladly agreed to stay for an additional hour of treatment, during which you repeatedly led me in and out of trance, with each trip down being a little deeper than the previous time.

On the last trip down, you told me that I needed to give myself the best chance at overcoming my problems by placing my complete trust in you and by cooperating completely with you until my problems were overcome. You also told me for the first time that I would not consciously remember any discussion with you that made me uncomfortable unless I was in trance and you told me that it was alright to remember.

Our Fourth Session was only four days later, on the following Tuesday afternoon. You had told me that at that point my treatment it was counterproductive to have too may days in between sessions. From now on, you said, we would meet every Tuesday and Friday afternoon at 3 p.m.

The session began as the prevous two before had, with a long and detailed induction. This time, you had me visualize that I was floating on a large, peaceful body of water, gently swaying back and forth, feeling comfortable, warm and safe. Soon, when you deemed I was deep enough, you gave me another series of suggestions that focused on letting go of stress and worry, assuring me of my value to the company and the need for me to overcome fear of failure.

Then you deepened my trance yet again, and reminded me that I there was something we needed to explore more fully. Your voice was like velvet in my ears... “Bruce, I really want to help you solve your problems. Now, please tell me about my watch, and why it attracts your attention so.”

I still felt that I didn’t really want to answer, but somehow I also now felt that withholding information—any information—was hampering your efforts to help me. “I think it’s very beautiful, and I think it makes you that much more beautiful than you already are.” You smiled back at me with that perfect smile of yours. “Thank you, that’s very sweet of you. But tell me, do you feel that way just about my watch, or does anything else I do or wear make you feel like that also?”

At that point, with the flood gates to my inner desires cracked open, the rest of the story flooded out. Although deep down I knew it had nothing to do with my sleeping issues, I found myself oddly compelled, albeit hesitantly, to tell you how I had worked in a high-end jewelry store while I was in college, and had developed a keen attraction to certain very expensive ladies watches as well as to the elegant women who wore them. I also admitted under your questioning that this attraction had a sexual component.

I sensed a note of accomplishment in your reply. “That’s very significant, Bruce. I think we just crossed an important barrier. Thank you for sharing that with me… I think I can help you better now that I know that.”

Somehow, through the trance, I was able to vocalize my confusion as to how revealing this private desire would help me. You didn’t address that, but in a reassuring voice you told me that I shouldn’t be embarrassed. “All of us have unspoken desires and attractions Bruce, it’s all perfectly normal.”

The rest of the session seemed to be a reiteration of this theme, how I should not feel any discomfort with having admitted this to you, and that in the end it could quite possibly be a key factor in my treatment.

The Fifth Session, the latest to date, was a few days later. You began as before, talking me through a slow, deliberate induction, and now I was deeper in trance than ever before. But I would soon learn (literally) that the purpose of this session was not my health; rather, it was your pleasure.

With me deep in trance, you told me, “We’re going to try something different today, Bruce. You’ll enjoy where I’m going to take you, for it is a wonderful journey that will forever change your life for the better, bruce. Yes, I’m happy to take you to such a marvelous place, brucey” I was already too far gone to ponder why you changed the way the way you addressed me; you had never called me ‘Brucey’ before.

“You love being in this deep trance state, brucey… it’s pure bliss to you. You want to return here easily and often. From now on brucey, whenever I flash the face of my watch before your eyes and tell you, ‘It’s sleep time,’ you’ll immediately return to this wonderful blissful state of deep trance. In fact brucey, you’ll sink twice as deep into trance than ever before. Each time you return to this blissful, peaceful trance, you’ll be two times deeper than ever before, brucey. And brucey, you’ll also be two times more open and receptive to my guidance than ever before.

Your voice seemed closer to me now. “That’s how it will be, brucey, won’t it?”

My voice sounded in my ears as if it originated from the next county. “Yes, that’s how it will be.”

“Also, from now on brucey, whenever you’re deep in trance and I tell you ‘It’s wake time,’ you’ll immediately awaken yourself by silently counting from three to one, pausing a single second between numbers. At three, you’ll begin to feel aware of your surroundings as the trance begins to lift. At two, the trance will fade rapidly and you’ll feel completely at ease. If your eyes are closed, they will open at the count of two. Finally, at one, you’ll be fully awake and aware, feeling completely refreshed and invigorated. Do you understand this, brucey?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Excellent, brucey. You’ve done so well today. You will not consciously remember the lessons I’ve taught you today, but, of course, you’ll remember them vividly in your subconscious mind… ready to obey and respond to my commands whenever I desire. You understand this too, don’t you, brucey?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Marvelous brucey! Now, ‘it’s wake time.’”

After a few moments, my eyes sprung open and I sat up in the chair. Stretching slightly, I returned your smile. “Wow, I feel great doctor,” I enthused. “I’m happy to see you benefit so much from trance training, Mr. Ferris. It’s just how I told you it would be… you awaken feeling like you’ve had the best night’s sleep ever. There’s no task that seems insurmountable to you. I’m always so happy when I can end the session this way for a client.”

Following your lead, I got up and begin walking towards the door. “I’ll admit I was skeptical about hypnosis,” I confided to you, “but it’s hard to argue with the results. Do you think I’ll need another appointment? I have been sleeping much better lately, but I’m not sure if my insomnia is really cured.”

You paused as your right hand came to rest on the door knob. “Wait a couple of days; if you’re still having any problems sleeping then, you can schedule another session.” “Sounds good to me,” I nodded back.

Just as it seemed you were going to open the door, you gracefully arched your left arm so that your watch face flashed briefly before my eyes. As my gaze became fixed on it, you softly intoned, “It’s sleep time.”

Immediately, my eyelids slammed shut as I sank back into trance, far deeper than before. “Now brucey, open your eyes and return to the chair so we can continue your training.” You smiled devilishly at me, obviously enjoying your own theatrics.

Without hesitating, I followed your instructions, easing myself back into the soft leather chair I had just arisen from. Likewise, you returned to the chair opposite mine.

“brucey, I have some new lessons to teach you, and you must learn them as well as you possibly can. Do you understand this, brucey?”

“Yes, I understand, doctor.”

“Very good, brucey. Here is your first lesson: From now on, whenever you’re deep in trance, you’ll address me as Mistress Joanna or simply as Mistress. When you’re awake, you’ll continue to call me doctor or Dr. Seaver. Do you understand this brucey?”

“Yes, I understand… Mistress Joanna.”

“Excellent brucey! Here’s your second lesson, brucey: You now find that not only do you have a deep desire to obey me brucey, you also have a deep desire to pleasure me and satisfy my physical needs. Soon I’ll teach you exactly how you will pleasure me brucey, but for now it is enough for you to know you have this deep need. Can you feel the need inside you brucey, growing more and more intense by the moment; do you feel it brucey?”

“Yes, I feel it Mistress.”

“Very good, brucey, very good. Now brucey, here’s a third lesson for you to learn: You already know that my watch is very special, brucey; it’s unlike any other you’ve ever seen. You told me yourself how fascinating you find it, brucey; how it utterly captures your attention whenever I show it to you. It has another ability I want you to learn about as well, brucey.

“You already know that when you are in trance, just like you are now, your subconscious mind absorbs and accepts all of my guidance. From now on brucey, whenever you’re in trance and I place the clasp of my watch on your forehead, my watch will automatically transform my words directly into your thoughts. You may even see my lips move, but the voice you will hear inside your head will be your own.

“And these thoughts I give you, brucey, will not only reside in your subconscious mind, but they’ll also be accessible to your conscious mind whenever I want you to access them. And whenever your conscious mind thinks these thoughts brucey, you’ll understand they are your thoughts and no one else’s, and you’ll act upon them accordingly. Do you understand this brucey?”

“Yes, I understand Mistress.”

“Good, brucey. That will be all for now. Please get up and follow me to the door, brucey.” Immediately, I followed you, still deeply entranced. I must have been very well trained by then indeed. You stopped as we reached the door. You extended your left hand out, ultimately resting it on the knob. “That’s good, very good brucey. Close your eyes again for me… that’s right. Now, ‘it’s wake time, brucey.’”

A few moments later, my eyes popped open. I was momentarily confused; your body position seemed to suddenly change even as I watched you. My conscious mind really had no recollection of your having previously hypnotized me at the door, taking me back for more training, and then returning me.

You appeared amused by the look of sudden confusion on my face. “Is there a problem, Mr. Ferris?”

I tried to reconcile the discontinuity in my mind. I couldn’t, finally shrugging my shoulders after a couple final moments of pondering. “No, nothing I can… think of off hand.” My eyebrows rose as you let out the briefest of giggles… which seemed so out of character for such a serious, studious professional as yourself.

“Well, thanks again Doctor,” I added as I noticed your left hand on the door knob—but hadn’t your right hand just been there? I had no time to address this puzzle, however. You twisted your delectate left wrist as though you were opening the door; in fact, you were again exposing your watch from its partial cover under your sleeve. Of course, my eyes fell on it immediately, and my eyelids slid shut moments later as you whispered in my ear, “It’s sleep time now.”

As much as you were enjoying whisking me back and forth like your toy yoyo, I sensed there was actually a higher purpose to your method. I was now so deeply entranced that there was no longer any chance of my resisting your guidance. As you led me back towards your couch, you knew the time was right for you to complete my training.

“Now brucey, open your eyes for me. Good, now stand right here,” you added, gesturing to the plush oriental carpet that lay before the couch. As I complied, your smile brightened. I noticed the excitement that was now blended into your expression. You then sat back on the couch, reclining slightly to one side, supported by a dark oversized pillow. The angle of your legs shifted, allowing me to note that you were not wearing any panties. My numbed mind could only observe their absence; I was unable to ponder the meaning of their missing presence.

Moments later, however, I was able to get an even better view between your legs as you commanded me to kneel before you on the thick carpet. My view was short-lived as you redirected my gaze into your bottomless blue eyes.

“brucey, you know that I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever met. I encompass everything you find beautiful in a woman… not just my looks, but my superior intelligence, my grace, my femininity, my wit. Yes brucey, everything about me reinforces the idea that I am the ultimate woman, the perfect woman, superior in every way… and also that, because you are simply a man, you should be mine to do with as I please. As far as you’re concerned, obeying and pleasing me is now the highest calling in your life. Nothing supersedes your need to obey and please me.”

I knelt there, lost deep within your eyes, my subconscious mind drinking in your every word. Your legs spread slightly wider and you quietly slipped a hand under your skirt as you resumed.

“In fact, brucey, your need to pleasure me now overwhelms you. You absolutely must please me. And very soon you’ll learn exactly the way I want you to please me… to pleasure me… to satisfy me.”

You paused as you rose and began to remove your clothing. I watched as you removed each article, laying them carefully over the back of one of the leather chairs. At some further point in time—I couldn’t tell how much later in my state—you sat down on the couch again, directly facing me. The only clothing remaining on your body was your watch and the sheer stockings that hugged your sensuous legs.

“Look upon my gorgeous body, brucey. It’s the most beautiful body you’ve ever seen, isn’t it? Yes brucey, everything about my body is perfect. Everything. Now, follow my watch as it moves all over my body… first over my perfect breasts, soft and firm, just the right size. Then see it pass over my shapely legs, so perfectly toned. See how my hose glisten in the light, just like the diamonds on my watch. Finally, follow the watch to the new center of your universe brucey, my pussy.” As if to emphasize this last, you paused for a few beats as your fingers traversed the length of your swollen pussy lips.

Suddenly, you angled your legs and thrust your hips so deftly so that I was mere inches from your pussy. Your outer lips opened like a flower in blossom, revealing some of the wonders that awaited me. Detecting a sudden movement elsewhere, my eyes swung upwards briefly, catching the sight of the clasp of your watch as it closed in on my forehead.

My gaze fell into your eyes as I felt a warm metallic sensation above and between my eyebrows. You began to speak again. At least, it looked like you were speaking. Odd; your lips were moving, but the voice I heard was my own…

“Mistress Joanna has the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen, far more beautiful than any other woman’s. Just seeing it drives my crazy... craving to stroke it, lick it, kiss it, make it wet, draw her pearl out. I’m drawn to Mistress Joanna’s perfect pussy more than anything else I know.”

I felt the metallic sensation withdraw from my head, then a hand on the back of my head pulled my face forward. My nose was guided so that it was positioned up against your opened outer lips. Each inhalation now enveloped me in your musky feminine scent. You encouraged me on, telling me, “Yes, breathe deep, brucey, very, very deeeeeep. Become lost in my fragrance, the perfume of my pleasure.”

As I complied, I felt the clasp return to my forehead. Once again the sound of my own voice filled my ears and mind. “Mistress Joanna’s sweet scent is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever smelled. The more of it I smell, the more I want to smell. I can never get enough of Mistress Joanna’s scent; I always want more.”

Again the clasp was withdrawn, and my head gently repositioned. My lips now rested against your inner labia; I felt your warm wetness expand past my lips to my cheeks. Then your melodious voice again filled me.

“Breathe normally now brucey… good. Now, extend your tongue past your lips. Yes, press it gently forward now, past your lips to the lips of my pussy. Yes, right there. Now, keep gently pushing it forward, past my lips… yes… stop there. Now, lick, lick, lick up and down, lick back and forth. Keep your tongue deep inside me. Now brucey, taste the flavor of my pussy, of my pleasure. Use your lips to drink it inside you. Keep licking and drinking, licking and drinking.”

As the taste permeated every corner of my mouth, the clasp again returned to my forehead and my voice to my ears. “The flavor of Mistress Joanna’s pussy is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. I can’t ever get enough of it! I’ll use every opportunity to taste her pussy, to lick it and make it wet, then drink every drop. Mistress Joanna’s pussy juice is my elixir of ecstasy… the more I drink, the better I feel.”

Once again the clasp was withdrawn, and you pushed my head away gently. “That’s enough for now, brucey. You’ll have plenty of time for that soon enough.”

You then proceeded to teach me exactly how you wanted to be pleasured. No detail was overlooked, however minor. How to kiss you, for how long and exactly where… How you wanted your breasts first caressed, then fondled, then kissed and finally suckled… how long to linger on each nipple… how often to alternate… how to use my tongue and lips on your lovely mounds depending on your level of arousal.

When it came time to teach me how you liked to be licked, you were just as specific. You paid special attention to your clit…. How to coax it slowly from under its hood, how to lick it, folding my tongue around it like a soft wet blanket… how to gradually bring you to orgasm when you were ready to experience it.

By the time this part of the training concluded, I knew exactly how you were to be pleasured to ensure the greatest climax.

The last lesson was one most men never receive; how to love a woman so as to bring her to orgasm after orgasm. This technique, as you explained, would ensure all our future sessions would be limited only by the depth of your desire, not by my level of attention or lack of endurance.

And, of course, you used the clasp one final time… “The sweet nectar that is Mistress Joanna’s cum is the greatest reward I could ever receive. All of my efforts will be geared towards that reward from now on.”

With those things now embedded in my mind, I proceeded, at your direction, to pleasure you for however long you wanted; I have no real conception of how long that was. I do know I was able to bring you to orgasm a number of times, and that you seemed very satisfied afterward.

Before dismissing me, you dropped me deeper in trance one last time, and planted instructions regarding certain phrases, which would be used to make me forget, remember, and serve you however you desire. For some reason, I can’t seem to recall those phrases now.

As I left you that evening, I knew my insomnia was cured, replaced by an ever growing addiction to serve and please you.

Ferris quickly proofed the 12 pages he had written, then he pulled out his cell phone. “I have completed the task you gave me Mistress.” The silky voice on the other end was quite pleased. “I was starting to wonder if I had done too good of a job treating your insomnia, and you had fallen asleep. Do you know what time it is?”

He glanced at the clock; it read 10:45. He had not heard it chime after six, nor had he heard the knock on his door from the cleaning lady at 9 p.m. “My goodness,” he replied, “I guess I have been a bit busy.”

“Bruce, I’d like you to stay on this line and fax what you’ve written to me. The fax number is on the back side of the picture I sent you, at the bottom. Dial carefully! As soon as I confirm that I’ve received it, you will shred all of the papers you wrote, leaving no trace behind.”

Stifling a yawn, the entranced man quickly followed his mistress’ orders. “I’ve sent the fax, Mistress,” he reported a couple minutes later.

The satisfaction in Dr. Seaver’s voice brought a wave of arousal to her charge. “Excellent! Yes, yes, you’ve done very well indeed. I see how you were promoted to VP so quickly. Very good my pet! Now, shred those pages as I instructed. And file the picture I sent in your desk in a private place where no one else will ever see it but you.”

After he reported the filing and shredding were completed, Dr. Seaver praised him, “Wonderful. You did so well tonight, brucey. You should be very happy. You may call it a night, and when you get home to bed, you will sleep soundly and deeply. But before you leave your office, think about Cinnamon Persimmon Petticoats.”

“Yes, I…”

Bruce Ferris stood in his office, puzzled as to why he was standing there listening to a dial tone on his cell phone. It was nearly 11 p.m. and he couldn’t seem to remember what he had spent the last several hours doing. “Maybe I’m not fully cured after all... I better have another session with Dr. Seaver this week.”