The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

(Lucy)

“What’s on your mind?”

I could tell that Stephanie wasn’t entirely here tonight. Lost in her thoughts, maybe. She’d invited me over tonight to plan, as we often did these days, for World Domination. Okay, not really, but some days it felt like it. We’d recently secured the co-operation, wink wink, of the second of five people Stephanie needed to sway on the university’s Psychology Board of Ethics. And when it rains, it pours.

“Gloria has found an excuse to entertain Professor Cunningham at her house next Saturday,” Stephanie announced as we snuggled up together on her couch.

That was huge. One out of five board members under our sway was a foothold. Three out of five was a majority. Soon, Stephanie would have to actually start working on her experimental design.

“Cool!” I sat up eagerly. “You want me to be there?”

“Actually,” she said, “I was thinking that I should do it myself.”

“Oh, okay, sure!” I said, lying back down on her shoulder. I hadn’t really expected that, because she’d been fine sending me out on my own so far, but whatever.

“Good, good,” she replied.

There was something odd there, a slight catch in her voice. A sense of saying words just to fill the space, to seem like she wasn’t feeling awkward or troubled.

So I asked her, “What’s on your mind?”

“Oh, nothing really,” she said, a little too casually, “it’s silly.”

“But it is bothering you,” I pressed. We were both in completely the wrong profession for trying to dodge the question.

Stephanie sighed, and nodded slightly.

She was silent for a moment, then said, “Lucy, do you ever think about—if such a thing can be measured—which of us is the better hypnotist?”

I blinked. “Well, it’s you, obviously,” I argued. “I’m pretty much your student in the art of hypnotising people.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” she mused. “I hypnotise people more often on average, but you have more experience with… how do I say it… spycraft. Infiltration. Hypnosis by covert means. And if this study does have society-wide consequences, yours might be a much more valuable skill set. So I need more practice.”

“Okaaay,” I said slowly, “but what about Victor, and the guards at Births, Deaths and Marriages? You’ve had plenty of practice!”

Stephanie was silent again.

“I know that this might make me sound paranoid,” she mumbled eventually, “so please know that I trust you implicitly.”

“Of course!” I kissed her cheek reassuringly.

“I wonder,” she sighed, “if I am creating the conditions for someone else to hypnotise me. By acting as an authority on the subject, hosting a podcast about it, publishing research… it invites a challenge.”

“I see,” I said, “you think someone might start wondering whether they can knock you off your pedestal, and become the One True Queen of Hypnosis.”

“Precisely.”

“Oh, well that’s easy then,” I waved an arm casually, “the whole hypno-kiss thing works based on attraction, right? So just be careful not to fall for any pretty women.”

Stephanie turned to stare at me, looking almost… offended?

I stared back at her.

She stared at me.

I stared back at her.

OH.

“Me??” I said incredulously. “Wait, wait, hold on, you’re worried I might do all that?“

“I’m not worried about it, as such,” Stephanie replied, a little defensively. “It’s more that I know you could if you wanted to, and I’m not even certain I would try to fight it.”

“And you want to practice… kissing spycraft, to make sure I’m not, like, definitively better at it than you are?“

“... Yes,” said Stephanie, her cheeks uncharacteristically pink. “Look, having a harem is something like a side-effect of my actual goal. I’d prefer to be a scientist studying a phenomenon, than a Queen to be usurped.”

“Oh, of course!” I replied in a mock soothing voice. “But if you’re gonna test out hypnosis yourself, you’ve gotta have at least one sex slave, right? And, oops, there goes another, and another, and this one fell into your lap by chance, just begging to serve… it’s not your fault if other people build you a pedestal just cause you hypnotized them a little bit, right?“

“Okay,” Stephanie relented, “you’re right, it’s a very enjoyable side-effect.”

I could tell that the admission was a weight off Stephanie’s mind, but as we got ready for bed, I could tell it was still bothering her.

I reached around to undo her bra as a pretext to lean in and kiss her. Or I kissed her as a pretext to undo her bra. Did it matter which?

“Are you worried that I might put you under tonight?” I murmured, part teasingly, part reassuringly. “Is a part of you thinking, ‘she’s really good at hypnotising unsuspecting people, and I’ve just invited her into my bed…’”

“I’m still not worried about it,” Stephanie insisted firmly as she stepped out of her panties, “I trust you completely.”

“Maybe you’re not scared of ending up as a sex slave,” I objected,” but you are scared that ending up as a sex slave will get in the way of your research.“

“Well,” Stephanie paused to think about it, “I trust that your ideas are good, and I don’t want to keep you from trying them.”

“And I’d never wanna keep you from following your life goals,” I parroted back.

“I appreciate that,” Stephanie clasped one of my hands in hers, “but the further along I get with this project, the more I feel the need to stay fully in control of myself. Hence… conflicting feelings.”

Stephanie’s hand was very warm in mine, and I had the urge to bring it to my lips and kiss it. Then, following that train of thought, I had an idea. It was extremely, well, feudal, but…

“What if I swear fealty to you?” I said, brightly.

Stephanie stared at me, eyes wide.

“Fealty?”

“Yeah!” I grinned. “Pledge my allegiance, promise never to betray you, stuff like that.”

The look on Stephanie’s face was uncomprehending. Her lips moved as if she was sounding out various responses in her head, and coming up short on all of them.

Eventually she said, “If that’s something you’d like… I certainly wouldn’t say no.”

I lowered myself to my knees in front of her, taking her hand with me. I kissed it softly, reverently, looking into her eyes as I did so.

It had been a while since I’d watched any period dramas, so I improvised.

“I, Lucy Halliday, do solemnly swear my unyielding loyalty to Lady Stephanie Thorpe, née Meacham. I pledge myself, and all resources I have to my name, in service to her cause. I am faithfully hers until my dying breath. I devote myself to her, and to any duty she would have me perform.”

If Stephanie was surprised at my suggestion, then she was speechless from my actually doing it. She stood there for a long moment, eyes locked on mine, deep breaths flaring her nostrils, apparently with no clue what she should do next.

Then her expression hardened.

“To… any duty?” she said quietly, a dangerous note in her voice.

“Any, My Lady,” I repeated without hesitation.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Bow,” she ordered.

I was already on my knees. The only way for me to bow was to bend over at the waist until my nose touched the floor.

Her foot nudged the side of my face, compelling me to raise my head. I found myself at eye level with her toes.

“Kiss.”

I obeyed, closing my eyes and pressing soft, slow kisses to Stephanie’s big toe. She ran the rest of her foot over my face, making sure my lips could cover every square inch of it.

“Yesss, that’s very good,” she husked.

I wasn’t sure how long I stayed down there, mindlessly kissing and grovelling. Two minutes? Ten? It didn’t matter. I started adding little flicks of my tongue, and Stephanie hummed contentedly. I’d never done anything like this before, but I loved touching her anywhere, in any way. Her feet were no exception.

“Now further up…” she coaxed.

I kissed my way up her ankle to her calf, lavishing it with my tongue.

“That’s it, good girl,” she murmured. “Keep going.”

Around her knee, and I was nuzzling her thigh. Closer and closer to her pussy. I could just about smell her now, and I leaned forward, stretching out my tongue-

Her thumb came out of who-knows-where and landed on my chin, stopping me in my tracks. I inhaled sharply, my eyes snapping open and meeting hers in a silent plea.

“Ah-ah!” she scolded me. “The other leg first.”

My whine of protest was pitiful and needy, but lowered myself back to the floor, kissing from her other foot back up to her thighs. It felt like an eternity, but My Lady had commanded, and I was determined to be thorough.

It took every last bit of willpower I possessed to stop licking just before her pussy a second time, but I held her gaze, waiting for permission.

“Convince me you want it,” she intoned softly.

“Please, My Lady,” I rasped, “Please let me worship you.”

She reached under me, grasping my chin.

“You may,” she purred.

I allowed her to guide my head, teasing me fucking unbearably with the smell and taste of her pussy, comforting, warm, familiar, and just barely in my reach as she allowed me to lap at her. Gradually, as I strained against her grip, she relaxed it just enough that I could do the job properly, pressing gentle smooches to her mound and trailing my tongue all over her. Spoiling her decadently.

“You’re so good to me, Lucy,” she sighed, leaning back onto the bed and spreading her legs wider.

I grinned. Pleasing her was making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, maybe even a little… teary?

Then she let go entirely, and I lost my train of thought in an instant, abandoning myself to the indulgence of tasting Stephanie fully, sealing my lips against her as I drank her in frantically.

“Oh!” Stephanie’s gasp of delight gave way to peals of laughter. “Oooh, yes! You wanted this badly, didn’t you!”

“I live to serve My Lady,” I said, or would have if I could talk—it came out more like a muffled groan against her clit. She got the idea though, and wrapped her legs around my head, urging me to keep going. I obeyed, grabbing her ass with both hands and pulling myself closer, delving my tongue into her slit as deep as I could go. Her thighs clamped around my ears, and I was lost, unable to see, hear, or do anything except worship Stephanie’s pussy. Just how I liked it.

I moaned, and she shivered with pleasure as the vibrations travelled through her body. I worked her up gradually, changing my motions here and there, swirling my tongue around her just a little bit faster. When I could hear her sighs of pleasure through her legs I sealed my lips around her clit, taking it into my mouth like a long, slow French kiss. This sent her careening over the edge, arching blissfully as she held my head gently but firmly against her, coating my face with her wetness.

She flopped bonelessly onto the sheets as I kissed my way up the rest of her body to join her. Her dazed, slightly goofy smile made my heart flutter a little. It was a pleasure to see her like this, however rare these moments would become as her life got busier and more focused on her work.

“So,” I murmured as I kissed my way up her neck, “do I have to keep calling you My Lady from now on?”

Stephanie laughed gently, “I thought that was just for the roleplay.”

“What about ‘Mistress’, then?” I asked pointedly.

She hummed a little, thinking about it.

“Nnno,” she decided eventually, “if I’m Mistress Stephanie to you, that makes you Slave Lucy, and something about that doesn’t feel right. I’ll accept your loyalty as it is.”

“Fair enough.”

Her lips skimmed my ear, and the sly kiss followed by her soft whisper made me shiver in a very, very good way.

“You like being my knight in shining armour?”

“Yesss,” I breathed.

“Then I have a task for you.”

“Name it.”

“Stop me if I look like I’m going too far,” Stephanie murmured. “I don’t want people to be right to hate me.”

“I don’t think you will, but consider it done,” I smiled.

“Thank you.”

“…”

“…”

“There’s grey areas though, right?”

“There are definitely grey areas.”

“Like, say, hypnotising an academic so that he approves a blatantly unethical study?”

“How about we say, if I start looking or sounding like a cartoon villain without a trace of irony, then it’s too far?”

“Deal. And hey,” I added, “you’re gonna be a fantastic hypno-spy. I’m sure of it.”

“I appreciate that,” she said.

“…”

“…”

“Stephanie?”

“Mmmhmmm?”

“Can you hypnotise me to sleep?” I pleaded. “I like it when you whisper in my ear.”

Her lips brushed my neck. “Anything in particular?”

I found one of her hands protectively encircling my waist, and squeezed it affectionately. “I trust you. Whatever you like.”

Stephanie rolled me onto my back, so that she was now cradling me in her arms. One of her hands found the back of my neck. She leaned down and gave me a long, affectionate smooch.

“Goodnight, my Lovely Lucy” she whispered.

I sighed as everything suddenly went fuzzy and sleepy. I was falling, falling into a dreamy vortex, like a whirlpool drowning me in softness. I relaxed and surrendered to it. I could almost hear Stephanie’s soothing whispers slipping past my defences, easing their way into my brain, becoming my thoughts. I felt a nipple brush over my lips, and I opened my mouth instinctively, feeling so safe and submissive as I sucked drowsily on her warm, comforting breast. I drifted off as she rocked me back and forth in her arms, sinking into the deepest, most restful sleep of my life.

(Gloria)

Bugger me.

To think that I’d spent the best part of a year planning this meeting between Stephanie Thorpe and Tobias Cunningham.

Then, when I was finally in a position where I could bring Stephanie in on the plan, she said words to the effect of, “Oh, what a funny coincidence! Just last week I was able to get Professor Stone under my thumb as well, after circumstances led him to fall into my lap seemingly out of nowhere!”

Well, sometimes you make your own luck.

I had, at least, the satisfaction of knowing that Stephanie wouldn’t have managed this without me, even with her considerable network of influence. Tobias Cunningham was a reclusive sort, but discreet conversations with his students had confirmed that he had a wandering eye. While not overtly lecherous, he would extend extra courtesies to particularly attractive ladies—not enough to be guilty of anything academically dishonest or improper, but enough that they had an easier time of his classes. As it turned out, this quality was known to his wife Margaret.

“It’s nothing,” she waved her hand dismissively, when I asked her about it one day over coffee, “they’re young and pretty, so what do I care if he steals a few glances?”

Of course, that told me all I needed to know. Margaret felt unattractive to her own husband, and likely had done for a while, accepting it as the price of growing old. This was an unconscionable state of affairs. Fortunately, an ex-student of mine whom I’d been mentoring these past few years had a podcast that dealt with issues like this in a very direct way.

“Let me see if I understand,” she said slowly, “your Stephanie’s answer for fixing my husband is for me to hypnotise him? Like Svengali?”

I couldn’t stop a wry smile from spreading over my face. “Not quite like Svengali, no.”

Before I knew it, we were meeting for coffee again. Urgently.

“It’s absurd!” she blustered. “Do young people really believe this tosh?! An excuse to broadcast a live on-air orgy as much as anything else!”

Stephanie was very careful to make the contents of the podcast inclusive of all potential hypnotists, but her framing devices did leave something to be desired.

“But it’s real,” I pressed, “I’ve done it myself.”

“You must be pulling my leg,” she shook her head. Then her eyes narrowed, “Who have you done that to?”

“Never you mind!” I said quickly, but she was persistent, and I should have known better than to think that, having arranged to meet about it, she would let the subject drop.

Eventually, she wore me down, and I demonstrated how hypnosis worked on a live subject, using Luke wearing a mask as my guinea pig. This was enough to convince her, and I proposed a deal. Stephanie and I would coach Margaret in how to hypnotise her husband to have eyes only for her, and in return she would allow Stephanie control over him for academic purposes.

Margaret had therefore persuaded Tobias to let me host them for dinner, and Stephanie would be joining us on the pretext that I was mentoring her and she would love to pick Professor Cunningham’s brains about academic psychology. Which was technically the truth, for a very loose definition of ‘picking his brains.’

Now, it was finally time. The doorbell rang. Oh lord, was I nervous. I steeled myself as I opened the door.

“Good evening, Stephanie.”

“Gloria!” Stephanie beamed, gracefully air-kissing me. “I hope I’m not too early.”

My gaze lingered on her outfit, puzzled at her choice; a long, flowing red dress that made few attempts at modesty. But we were here specifically to give Margaret a confidence boost, to convince her that attractive 20-something women weren’t going to steal her husband away. Stephanie would never have misunderstood the role she had to play, not for something as important as this, which meant she was following a different plan to the one we had discussed. But what?

“Please, come in,” I ushered her inside. “You’re as punctual as ever.”

She peered around me. “Am I the first to arrive?”

“Yes,” I replied, leading her into the house. “Margaret will get here about 20 minutes before Tobias. I hope that gives you enough time to coach her.”

“That will do.”

“Can I ask,” I interrupted before the conversation could take us anywhere else, “are you going to seduce Tobias directly tonight?”

Stephanie bit her lip, “That would make things easier, when you think about it…”

“You’re not serious. In front of his wife??”

“This is a slightly more complex plan than I’m used to,” she said defensively. “Some women are perfectly fine with me kissing their cheating boyfriends or husbands as long as they get vindication and he gets a karmic comeuppance. Admittedly, it doesn’t seem like Margaret would be into that.”

“But…?” I prompted.

She sighed, “But, if push comes to shove, I’ll have to prioritise my needs first and sort things out with Margaret later. I’m sorry.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, and thanked God Stephanie could handle herself from here. Another glass of wine was calling to me, and I would not bet on my skills as a hypnotist when I was sloshed.

“It’s your research on the line,” I murmured, sinking into an armchair.

It occurred to me when Margaret arrived that I could take her aside discreetly and tell her what was happening, but against my better judgement I decided to see it through. Stephanie gave away no trace of ill intent, and though Margaret was initially suspicious—after all, this was exactly the kind of woman her husband was weak for—she happily bought into the narrative of special marriage counselling Stephanie spun for her.

“And you really think it will work on him?” she asked, her voice betraying more than a hint of skepticism.

“Of course!” Stephanie soothed. You just need to have confidence in yourself, and your sensuality.”

“Easy for you to say,” she huffed. “You still have your youthful charms, I’m not nearly as beautiful as I once—”

“No no, none of that,” Stephanie interrupted firmly. “You are gorgeous.”

“You… you really think so?” She sounded almost as if she was afraid of believing it.

“I do!” Stephanie smiled warmly. “He is your husband; if anyone can render him senseless with no more than a wink, it’s you.”

“I… gosh,” Margaret muttered, “when you put it like that…”

A knock at the front door interrupted us. Tobias was here, a little earlier than expected.

“Ready to knock his socks off?” Stephanie whispered.

Margaret nodded. That was as good as we could hope for.

I let Tobias in, and Margaret rose to greet him.

“Toby, dear!” she exclaimed, kissing him very affectionately on the cheek—which I was pleased to note left him looking slightly befuddled. “Gloria was just introducing me to her protege!”

She indicted Stephanie, who rose to shake Tobias’s hand. “Professor Cunningham! Stephanie Thorpe. Gloria was my supervisor for my Ph.D. It’s so nice to meet you!”

Tobias took her hand politely. “Hmm, Stephanie… Stephanie… the name rings a bell, but I don’t quite recall seeing you in class.”

“Well, I know you by your sterling reputation, of course,” she smiled, “but I think you’re right, other than the occasional guest lecture here and there.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” he beamed. “And please, call me Tobias.” He finally turned his attention to me. “There you are, Gloria! What a lovely place you have here!”

“It isn’t really built for entertaining, but I do my best,” I said modestly, grimacing inside. Now that I could observe him from a closer distance, it was obvious. The way Tobias’s face lit up upon seeing Stephanie was his giveaway. His eyes were not obviously roaming, but they were certainly taking in more of her beauty than they should, and having only known her for the span of twenty seconds he was already tripping over himself to look charming and intelligent in front of her. I didn’t doubt that, if she had been an actual student of his, he would have handed her an Honours degree on a platter. And all this in front of his own wife. For shame, Tobias!

Over dinner, I saw Margaret putting into practice the lessons Stephanie had taught her. The first step was to make sure he was receptive to her touch, so she started rubbing his back soothingly whenever he coughed, cleared his throat, expressed any slightest ache or pain. When she withdrew her hand to continue eating properly, he leaned into her, almost without realising it. As soon as she had finished her plate, she let her hand remain on his back, a constant comfort, apparently surprised at how needy he had become for her. Stephanie caught her eye and winked.

I quickly realised that the best way to break Tobias out of his shell was to accept Margaret’s displays of affection as normal, or justified; underneath the surface, he wasn’t so different from the many arrogant young men who thought they were God’s gift. To wit, after dinner Tobias became keenly aware that he was the only man in a room full of women and wine—and one of them was Stephanie, every inch a keen, wide-eyed student who looked up to him. Naturally, he wanted to show off. If he could dazzle her with his expertise, that was well and good. But if he could make her—and I suppose, me—see him as a man of considerable animal magnetism and sexual prowess, even better. And if that meant allowing his wife to sit on his lap and cover his face in kisses, then so be it.

Once again, I chided myself, male sexuality is Stephanie’s area of expertise.

“Having fun there, Professor?” Stephanie teased lightly, her tone carefully calculated to sound intrigued rather than condescending, the vaguest possible hint that she could be persuaded to join in, under the right circumstances.

“Yess,” Tobias sighed as his wife’s lips found his cheek again. His eyes flickered towards Stephanie, and she took the opportunity to flash him a grin while smoothing down her dress suggestively. Not sighing in exasperation was perhaps the best acting I had ever done in my life.

“Of course he’s having fun,” Margaret purred, with a sensual lilt to her voice I’d never heard before, smooching him gently on the lips. “He’s relaxing and enjoying the attentions of women.”

“Naturally,” Stephanie replied, because Tobias clearly couldn’t.

Margaret kissed him again, and Tobias abandoned all pretence of decorum, forgetting entirely that he was at a formal dinner party.

“Close your eyes, dear,” Margaret soothed. Tobias was only too happy to comply, sighing as he sank into the cushions. Stephanie leaned forward with undisguised eagerness as she watched Margaret rain kisses down on her helpless husband.

“You’ve had a long day,” she crooned, cradling his face in her hands, “it’s so nice to relax and unwind, with wine, and friends, and… kissing…”

A small smile began to spread over Tobias’s increasingly lipstick-smeared face.

“You’ve earned the right to enjoy yourself,” she continued between kisses, “perhaps even to drift off to sleep, to bask in the attention, and let your mind wander. It feels so good in here, so warm and comfortable… and you know that I love you very much, whatever your faults, and that… that’s really all there is to say, when you come right down to it…”

Stephanie and I exchanged a glance. That was a little off-track.

“It would be so nice to fall asleep here, fall asleep and dream of… pretty women, lavishing you with attention, flattering your ego, allowing you to feel so good…”

Margaret pulled back, and I suddenly realised that her face was clouded with uncertainty.

“But it’s her you want, not me, isn’t it?” she whispered.

Oh, bugger. Margaret’s burgeoning confidence had faltered at the final hurdle, the voice in her head telling her she could never do this becoming too loud to ignore, just at the point when Tobias surely needed only the slightest push to fall into trance for her. Instead his eyes flickered open, dazed and gazing up at her.

Before I could think on what to do or how to salvage this, Stephanie stretched her legs in a slow, sensual motion and rose to her feet. She swayed seductively across my living room, in a move I was sure had been calculated to catch his attention once again—and I was equally sure would succeed.

She stroked a hand soothingly over Margaret’s back. Margaret stiffened slightly in surprise, then relaxed. Her other hand beckoned me over, and I eased myself onto the sofa next to them. Together, we gazed down at the half-hypnotised Tobias in a tableau that must surely have been from his worst nightmares… or just possibly, his deepest fantasies.

“He’s been a naughty boy,” Stephanie murmured, a heady mix of sex and condescension in her voice, “but we can fix him, can’t we?”

“We had better,” Margaret replied throatily.

“What do you say, Professor?” Stephanie smirked down at him. “Don’t you want your beautiful wife to keep kissing you?”

Tobias could only nod, a distinctly uncharacteristic “Uhh-huhh,” drifting lazily from his lips as he stared up at them.

Stephanie’s hands trailed gently over Margaret’s shoulders and down her arms, and to my surprise, Margaret instinctively adjusted her posture to allow it.

“Go on, then,” Stephanie whispered in her ear. “He wants you to.”

And Margaret did, some resolve firming behind her eyes as she leaned back in to capture his mouth in hers again, but Stephanie didn’t draw away to let them have their moment. In fact, she continued exactly as she had been, pouring honeyed words into Margaret’s ear even while the couple were kissing, her hands moving down to gently grasp Margaret’s.

“That’s right,” she breathed, “now do exactly as I say. Tell him how relaxed he is, how sleepy he’s getting for you, how obedient. Stroke his chest gently to relax him, make him want more of your kisses…”

Margaret followed her advice to the letter, letting Stephanie guide her own hands around her husband like a puppet, and with their combined efforts Tobias stood no chance of resisting. Stephanie’s words weren’t just instructions, they also formed a second layer of suggestions to settle in his mind. I realised I was watching a true professional at work, and for the first time that night, it occurred to me that Stephanie may have worn the red dress not just for Tobias, but for Margaret as well. Seducing the wife as a means to seduce the husband. Maybe that sounded ridiculous, but it was impossible to ignore the evidence of my eyes. Stephanie was curled around Margaret like a lover, her lips so close that they were brushing Margaret’s ear, every whispered word carrying the barest hint of a kiss. One of her hands came up to brush the back of Margaret’s neck soothingly, and I wondered if that, in combination with everything else, would be enough to hypnotise her. Surely not, but perhaps that didn’t matter; even a slight effect would be enough to tilt things in Stephanie’s favour.

“You are relaxed and obedient for me,” she sang softly.

“You are relaxed and obedient for me,” Margaret repeated as she kissed Tobias.

“It feels good to obey.”

“It feels good to obey…”

“So happy and relaxed and sleepy…”

“Happy and relaxed and sleepy…”

“Sleep now.”

“Sleep… now.”

Tobias was already so far gone that only a slight change in his breathing told us he was hypnotised.

“Well done,” Stephanie murmured, pressing a kiss to Margaret’s ear—just a peck, but enough to draw her attention. “He’s all yours now.”

Margaret was looking a little dazed herself, an expression of ‘What in God’s name just happened?’ etched onto her face. At Stephanie’s words, she shook herself, and tried to focus on the task in front of her.

“Toby,” she said firmly, “you are under my control. I am your wife, and that means you must love, honour and obey me, isn’t that true?”

“Yesss, true…” Tobias all but moaned, his face sporting the most blissful smile I had ever seen on him. Quite a change from the stuffy academic I thought I knew.

“Don’t forget the special phrase,” Stephanie prompted.

“Whenever I, and only I, say the words ‘Trance, Toby’, you’ll return to this state,” Margaret murmured. “Ready to please me.”

“Ready… to please you,” Tobias repeated.

“Now Toby,” she continued, her voice shaking just slightly, “I don’t want any more of this… ogling younger women. It’s unbecoming of you as an academic and as my husband.”

A look of pain and guilt flickered over his face. “Yes dear, of course. I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, we can move past it,” she soothed, “but I must know, have you ever … done anything, with a student?”

Tobias squirmed as the trance drew honest answers from his lips. “I never… touched anyone, no… but I suppose I flirted a fair bit… often, you might say. I enjoyed… appearing powerful, desirable, to the women in my charge—”

“Enough,” Margaret commanded, looking both relieved and a little crestfallen at his words. “Those days are over, do you hear? You must move past those desires.”

“Yes dear…” he murmured regretfully.

“And because Stephanie did us such a favour, in helping us sort things out,” she continued, “you will also return to this state when she, and only she, says… ‘Sleep for my lips’. But you must only obey her in a professional context, never an intimate one. Is that clear?”

“Yes dear…”

“You know,” Stephanie murmured, tracing her hands over Margaret’s body, “he might have to learn to suppress those desires the hard way.” Her lips brushed over Margaret’s ear again, and I swore I saw her shiver slightly. “Would you like me to teach you how to dominate him as well? To have him put you first in every way?”

Stephanie’s hands were openly stroking Margaret below her breasts now, just shy of inappropriate in a way that nonetheless felt extremely, nakedly inappropriate. Surely Margaret could imagine even more vividly than I could, that Stephanie’s lips might start to find places other than her ear to rest; trailing down her neck in a sensual tease, or up into her immaculately styled silver hair, warm and comforting-

Margaret took a deep breath and came back to herself.

“You are… a very remarkable woman,” she murmured, “but after all that’s been said and done, I think that has to be something just for the two of us.”

“Of course,” Stephanie replied warmly, finally drawing back and letting go of her. “I’ll take being ‘a very remarkable woman’ any day.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said quickly, “I’m so grateful for all you’ve done, it’s just… a little too much for me.”

“Frankly, I should be the one thanking you,” Stephanie smiled. “I will, as discussed, have to put Tobias into a trance from time to time, but just for his academic connections.”

“No kissing him,” Margaret affirmed.

“None. I’ll even try to keep the student body away from him if I can.”

Margaret was satisfied.

“I feel quite rude,” she laughed as she was getting ready to leave. “You organised this lovely dinner, set up this meeting, and I’ve spent much of the night ignoring you! But I’m afraid I do need to get home and… re-evaluate my marriage.”

“Oh it was no trouble at all,” I replied, privately thankful that I’d been as uninvolved as I was. “Just remember the golden rule. Choose to put yourself and your needs first, and he will follow you to the ends of the Earth.”

“Yes… thank you, I shall,” Margaret pondered my words. “Come along, Toby.”

“Yes, dear!” said a considerably more awake but completely obedient Tobias. “Ah, thank you for having us for dinner.”

“We’ll be in touch,” Stephanie smirked.

His eyes hazed over a little, as his conscious mind attempted to work out what his subconscious already knew. “Yes… yes, I’m sure you will. Good night!”

Then they were gone, and it was just me and Stephanie. A question burned at the forefront of my mind.

“Have you ever hypnotised me?”

Stephanie covered her mouth a split second too late, something like a guffaw slipping out, “Why? Because I turned on the charm for Margaret just now?”

“You can’t blame me for wondering,” I pointed out.

“No, I suppose that’s fair,” she mused, “but I promise you I never have. That was… well I won’t say it was a one-off that will absolutely never happen again, but it was the finest line I’ve ever had to tread for a therapy session.”

“This was a therapy session, to you??”

“Of course!” she said lightly. “Everything I do is therapy.”

I shook my head in wonder. There was a lot to understand about that statement, and right now I did not have the head for it.

“What exactly are you going to need for your study?” I asked as Stephanie prepared to leave. “Aside from ethical approval, of course?”

“Some private, soundproofed rooms, recording equipment for all of them, and as many volunteers as I can get,” Stephanie said, simply.

“Are you going to do all the hypnotising yourself?”

She snapped her fingers, “Ah, no, fair point, I’ll need subject volunteers and hypnotist volunteers.”

“Understood.”

“Thank you for a lovely dinner, Gloria,” Stephanie said, “and thank you for setting this up. Now the work really begins.”

I pondered that, after I waved goodbye one last time and closed the door, leaning back against it. Now the work really begins. Free-willed board members outvoted 3 to 2. Was Stephanie anticipating that it would be easier to get them on-side now? Once their obedience was sure, what obstacles were left? Was the study itself, years in the making for so long, now mere weeks away?

And she would need hypnotists. Women who could actually go into the study with experience, women who knew how to exploit men’s weakness for their sexuality. Plus subjects, mostly men I assumed, who were prepared to be hypnotised for days or weeks on end.

I smiled to myself. Perhaps I could do something about that.

(Lucy)

Fishnets weren’t usually my thing, but tonight they were. Between my short frilly skirt, and my cutesy decorative bow tie, the whole thing didn’t feel complete without them. If you’re gonna dress up like a sexy maid, you’ve gotta commit to it, or there’s no point. Well, okay, some things were negotiable. My French accent was terrible and unsexy, so that was off the table. Panties were also unacceptable.

Stephanie didn’t know I had this outfit, by the way. Somehow that added to the thrill of sneaking into her house to dress up in it. I adjusted my hairnet, and started running a bath.

Minutes later, the front door opened, and Stephanie staggered in. I heard the sound of her kicking off her heels.

“Lucy?” she called uncertainly.

“In here, madam!” I called cheerily. I bent over as far as I could, pointing my ass towards the doorway, inviting anyone who happened to see it to try spanking it and see what happened.

“Are you running a bath—?” Stephanie stopped dead, seeing me for the first time. I peered over my shoulder to grin at her.

Her voice dropped right into the husky, sexy register that only came out when she was really turned on, ”Oh. I see I’ve acquired a maid tonight. Well, that’s not exactly how I thought you were going to use my spare key, but I like it.” She eyed me hungrily. “Very, very much.“

“You know, it’s a funny thing,” I commented, as I swayed back and forth temptingly, “I figured out earlier this week that I couldn’t cum unless I said or thought the exact phrase ‘I am loyal to Stephanie’ while getting off. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

She smiled as she graciously accepted my invitation, one of her hands slipping under my skirt and fondling my ass possessively. I moaned and leaned into her touch.

“Frankly, I’m just impressed that you figured it out without begging me,” she said.

“Well, a week of that got me feeling really horny and submissive,” I admitted quietly, “and all I wanna do is help you relax and unwind after a hard day. Figured you’d like a bath.”

“I would love one, actually,” Stephanie sighed, her shoulders sagging a little, betraying just how exhausted she was from whatever had gone down at Gloria’s house.

“Then… may I undress you, ma’am?” I said, keeping my eyes wide and meek.

“You may,” she smiled.

She sank blissfully into the water, groaning as the stress visibly flowed out of her body. Her breasts floated up, her nipples poking just above the surface. I ladled some water over them, keeping them warm.

“You’re too good to me,” she hummed. “Making me feel very selfish.”

“That’s the idea,” I murmured. “Did it go well?”

“Hmm?” she mumbled, “Oh, yes. I got him, eventually, and I sort of had to seduce his wife at the same time. Very tricky, but I managed it without anyone cheating on anyone else. If I hadn’t managed to toe that line, it might not have worked.”

“I think you’re working too hard,” I admonished, “you’ve done all this… politicking, on top of a full time job, a weekly podcast, and preparing what’s effectively a postdoc at the same time.“

Her head moved lazily up and down.

“You need to take time off at some point,” I purred in her ear, “so order me to do something selfish, just for you.”

Stephanie’s eyes flickered open. They were hazy with desire.

“Bathe me, Lucy.”

So I did, lovingly pouring the water over her body, massaging her arms and legs, working out all her tension. I soaked a flannel in warm water, and handed it to her so she could run it over her face as I worked. She sank further into the bath, her legs rising up so that I could comfortably rest her feet on either side of the tub. Her pussy rose with them, glistening wet and practically inviting me to lick.

I couldn’t resist. I bent down, careful not to get my maid’s uniform wet, and lapped softly, slowly, repetitively at her clit.

We stayed like that for a long time, me leaning over the bathtub to pleasure her, and her relaxing under my attention. Lick, lick, lick. Over and over again, never changing my speed nor my motions, building her up slowly and surely. Teasing her until she couldn’t hold back. Lick, lick, lick.

“Ohhh fuck,” Stephanie moaned, “Lucy…”

My name on her lips sounded so sweet it was unbearable, and almost broke my composure.

“That’s it,” I coaxed between licks, “don’t hold back. Give in to it.”

“Mmmmmyes!” Stephanie cried out, her hips bucking against my mouth as she relinquished her self-control. Only then did I speed up, bobbing my head rapidly against her pussy, urging her irresistibly to cum for me.

It crashed over her like a tidal wave, obliterating her composure. She moaned pathetically, pleadingly, cathartically, as my tongue caressed the last of her stress away. Her legs gave out, flopping back into the bath with a splash. She sighed deeply, laying back and surrendering herself completely for the first time in a long time.

I knew what I had to do now. I leaned in close and whispered “Sleepy Stephanie.”

Her head lolled to one side, totally out of it.

“That’s right,” I whispered, “fully relaxed and stress free now. It feels so comfortable and natural to just climb out of the bath and sit on the ledge, just like that…”

I pulled the plug, and as Stephanie eased herself up to sit on the edge of the bathtub, I wrapped her in her softest, fluffiest towel she owned, easing her legs out one at a time.

“Stand up.”

She rose to her feet, and I patted her down, caressing every part of her body lovingly as I dried her.

“You gave me the best night’s sleep I ever had last week,” I whispered as I finished, “and now I’m going to return the favour.”

She allowed me to lead her out of the bathroom, step by step, not even opening her eyes. It wasn’t a long distance from her bath to her bed, but for the first time I got a sense for how deep her trust in me went. Of course she didn’t need to open her eyes. Of course she wasn’t going to fall, or stub her toe, or hit her head. I was guiding her.

She lay down in bed, breathing slowly and evenly, as I gently laid the covers over her.

“Sleep now,” I commanded softly, snuggling up next to her, “float down, down, down, into the deepest, most restful sleep of your life. You’re going to wake up in the morning feeling refreshed, and ready for anything.”

Her breathing didn’t change, but from the depths of her subconscious, I heard Stephanie whisper, ”Thank you…”

I wondered if she might like breakfast tomorrow. Would she want me to keep being her maid? Did I want to stop? Was I being hypnotised to enjoy being subservient, or was I enjoying it for my own reasons?

I’d figure it out later. I wrapped my arms around her, and joined her in slumber.