The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Nigel walked down the stairwell of his stately manor, Hallsey Hall. He heard Stacy calling him. “I’ll be right there, pet.” He projected his baritone voice.

It had been more than a year since he had been back to Hallsey Hall. Not by coincidence, it had been more than a year since his first wife, Claudia had died. Claudia’s condition came on suddenly and she died a month later. It obviously hit Nigel hard. He had been quite devoted to her, but on her death bed, he promised to remarry. As he was in his mid thirties, Claudia knew that he had still had a life to lead, and she wanted to ensure that he would. Fairly soon after her death, he had crossed the pond to visit a friend from Bailey College at Oxford to temper his melancholy.

Nigel’s friend Phillip Harvey lived in New York. It was he who got him together with Stacey. Stacey Sommers was a young up and coming actress. As she was taking a break from Hollywood, she was currently in New York to play a juvenile lead in a new Broadway show. As Phil was one of the producers, he had introduced them.

Stacey had that California girl/Hollywood blonde haired blue eyed look which was quite a contrast to Nigel’s dark hair and green eyes. Stacey had been so much fun and her beauty and playfulness made Nigel take notice.

The show bombed, but Stacey did not go back to Hollywood. She had gotten out of her deal with Warner Brothers, but none of the other studios seemed interested in paying her what she wanted, so she was in no rush to get back (especially after being in a Broadway bomb). She was enjoying the attention that Nigel was giving her. Within six months, he proposed. They were married in a big church in New York, went to Bermuda for their honeymoon and then flew back to England. Nigel should have realized he was in trouble. Not five minutes after arriving, Stacey said, “Darling, I don’t mind living here, but we will need a flat in London. I just got off the phone with a producer of a new play in the West End and he is interested in me for a role."

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem, sweet,” he smiled at her.

“Could you please show me to the master bedroom, I must get out of these clothes.”

“Darling, I know this may sound silly, but I would like us to use the bedroom at the end of the hall.”

“Did Claudia...” she stopped herself.

“Yes, pet.”

“I understand,” she said quietly before following Nigel as he walked up the stairs.

Their first few months were very blissful. It had always been Stacey’s dream to be a princess. Being a titled woman who was lady of a stately manor was fairly close; however, the bliss did not last. The roles that Stacey was looking for never materialized. She was beginning to miss Hollywood. Her trips to London got longer and longer. Finally, Nigel became irritated, but as tactfully as possible convinced Stacy to come home. He then gave up the lease on the London flat. This underhandedness greatly irritated Stacey. The bloom was off the rose for the American actress. Aside from not supporting her dreams, Nigel was endeavoring to keep her tied up at the manor and she resented it. Finally she decided to divorce him and she started looking into what she needed to do.

“Nigel, I don’t want to sleep in your bed anymore," She said flatly.

“That is your choice,” stated Nigel.

“I have asked Yvette to clean the master bedroom…”

“You can’t, Claudia…”

“Claudia is probably at harp practice and wouldn’t give a wit, I’m sure,” said Stacey snidely.

“That was a hurtful thing to say.”

“It is even more hurtful to me to see you pining over another woman,” growled Stacey.

“ I haven’t thought of Claudia in more than a week. Let’s be honest, Stacy. You are using this as an excuse.”

“Then prove it to me. Let me stay in the room.”

“I don’t care… just get out of here!” he said quietly but with authority.

“Don’t worry, Nigel. Very soon I will be doing just that. For now I am going to the nearest inn until the room has been cleaned and aired out, so don’t wait up for me!” snapped Stacy.

The Master bedroom in Hallsey Hall had not been used or even opened in more than a year. Yvette was the head maid. She was a lovely French woman in her early thirties. A few days after Claudia’s death, she had seduced a drunken Nigel, after helping him to bed. Then she blackmailed him. Yvette wasn’t greedy. She just wanted a nice annuity and the title of head maid. She was almost more of the Lady of the house than Stacy was. As the three other maids began to Hoover the room and clean the windows, Yvette just supervised. Then she looked over at a small trunk in the corner. It wasn’t there a few minutes ago she thought. It wasn’t because one of the maids had removed it from under the bed and moved it to the corner.

Yvette couldn’t contain her excitement. She wondered what kind of treasures were in the natty old trunk. When the maids were done cleaning and changing the bed linen, Yvette stayed behind to “inspect the room”. There was a small catch on the latch which sprung the lid unexpectedly like a jack-in-the-box without a tune. Instead of a clown popping up, a somewhat translucent cloud enveloped the French maid and she collapsed on the floor.

“Where am I,” said Claudia out loud with a strange voice. She climbed off the ground and looked around at her surroundings. She was in her and her husband’s bedroom. Everything was strange. She remembered lying in her sickbed with Nigel looking down and holding her hand. That was the last thing she remembered. "Wait. How am I on my feet? I haven’t been able to walk under my own power in almost a month. This isn’t right," she thought. Then she looked at a mirror from distance and was shocked at what she saw. When she approached the mirror she saw Yvette, her maid’s reflection looking back at her.

Then she heard a muffled voice in the background in her mind. “Merci Madame, please let me go,” said the voice.

“Yvette?”

“Madame, I feel my control slipping away, please let me go,” her muffled voice seemed weaker.

All of a sudden, images flooded Claudia’s consciousness. Memories that were not hers. The memories were Yvette’s and the memories that Yvette was trying to hide from her came front and center.

“Please Madame… I was only trying to…”

“I know what you were trying to do. Take advantage of my poor husband’s grief.”

“Madame, please… I can already feel it happening… your will is becoming my own. Your thoughts are becoming my own… your feelings are mine as are your desires…Madame please before it is too late….”

Claudia had no idea what to do. Somehow she was affecting her maid, yet she really did not care. What Yvette did to Nigel was terrible. "She would pay… no she wouldn’t be able to pay," thought Claudia. She had sensed that Yvette was changing. She would no longer have thoughts or feelings of her own. Now, her thoughts and feelings would be Claudia’s. From seeing Yvette’s recent memories, Nigel had followed her instructions to remarry, but he had not chosen wisely. Still, for now she seemed to be trapped in Yvette. She needed to see Nigel, to talk to him, to comfort him and she would do all these things tonight.

Yvette was no longer worried. What she wanted did not matter anymore. She could still think and feel, but these thoughts and feelings were of no consequence. With every passing second, Madame’s thoughts and feelings were becoming her own. They were pushing any of her thoughts and feelings out, taking over more and more. There was only a tiny amount of what made Yvette herself, and that would be soon gone too. The guilt she had been feeling was disappearing. She knew that she would be serving at her lordship’s pleasure and that is all that now mattered to her.

“Yvette?”

“Yes, Madame.”

“We will go and see my husband.”

“My thoughts exactly, Madame,” said Yvette as a smile crossed her countenance, as she felt Claudia walk her body out of the room.

Nigel sat in the study after his row with Stacey. He had been a fool to have married her. She now would undoubtedly divorce him and try to get every possible penny out of him. He thought about the staff he would have to let go and how much he would have to cut back on his philanthropic activities. One such activity was being handled by Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh and spouse of the new monarch. Despite the personal embarrassment and scandal he had hoped to avoid, he generally cared for these charities and was saddened that he would not have the resources to continue to support them. He was awoken from his reverie by a knock on the door.

“Please enter,” he bid.

Yvette walked into the room.

“Yes, Yvette?” he asked.

Yvette remained silent. Claudia had no idea what she was going to say to her husband.

“If you are reporting that the master bedroom is finished, you can report that to Lady Hallsey,” said Nigel.

“Excuse me sir,” said Yvette without her French accent.

“Yvette… where is your accent?”

“That is what I’m trying to tell you… Jelly,” said Claudia using her pet name for Nigel.

Nigel was shocked and angry.

“How do you know that name?!” he blustered.

“Because that is what I call you when we are in private. Nigel, it is I, Claudia.”

“Claudia, you can’t be…”

“I know, I died, but I seem to be possessing Yvette…”

“That is absurd! I don’t know what you are up to this time, but you will not get another penny from me!” he railed.

“Nigel, I am really Claudia, your flower,” she began to cry.

Nigel looked at the woman he presumed was his maid. While her tone was a bit lower, her inflections were exactly like Claudia’s. She had no trace of Yvette’s accent. There was something else. There was a look of recognition in her eyes. She looked at him the same way Claudia did. She knew about “Jelly” and “his flower”. While he assumed this was somehow a big hoax he knew he had to ask her one question. “What kind of flower are you?”

“Any kind you want me to be,” she said softly.

Nigel began to cry. He ran to her and threw his arms around her, “Claudia, it is you!”

Claudia hugged him back tightly and began to cry.

About an hour later, Nigel had explained everything to his first wife. “I’ve made a regular pig’s breakfast of this, my sweet.”

“You were lonely, Jelly. I wish I had never left you,” she said as she put her hand on his knee, which was always the start of something else.

“Claud, we really shouldn’t. I’m married to what’s her name,” he said temporarily forgetting Stacey’s name.

“No Nigel, you’re married to me. You need me right now and you shall have me.”

Nigel tried to stop her, but Claudia used Yvette’s comely body and lovely countenance to silence his protest. Soon they were rolling around on the study rug, as Claudia’s spirit and Yvette’s body began to give Nigel his first orgasm in nearly a month.

Claudia was so full of life, thought Nigel. Her passion had always offset his surface coolness, unlocking the animal inside him. He had never known anyone who had done that before or since. As Nigel, climaxed so did Claudia. Then a strange luminous, semi translucent cloud floated out of the room, under the door, and it was gone.

Nigel stared transfixed as he saw the cloud disappear then he looked at the woman he had been making love to and she just smiled.

“What happened, Claudia?”

“She is gone, Master, but I am yours,” said Yvette, with her returned accent.