The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

There was a small gap in between two books that, from the thin layer of dust coating them, hadn’t been touched in months. The kind of books you put on display to show off your expertise. There was just enough space. Without disturbing anything, I slipped a wireless camera between them, and returned to my seat. It was already broadcasting, and nobody was any the wiser.

The door opened, and I intentionally relaxed, careful not to look at what I’d just done. All I needed to do was make it out of here without raising suspicion.

“I’m sorry about the delay,” said Dr. Stephanie Thorpe, sitting down in her chair across from me. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

“No problem at all,” I said lightly.

To give her some credit, Dr. Stephanie Thorpe was decent at her job, never talking down to me or belittling my problems in the way I might have expected for a relatively simple case of social anxiety. But all the same, there was something sinister going on here, beneath the surface. And I was determined to expose it.

I was one of only a handful of people on the entire planet who would know the significance of a podcast called Let’s Talk Men. So what? It was an unsuccessful podcast with no audience. People made those all the time. But in what turned out to be their last ever episode, Dr. Thorpe had taken it over. She and her fellow guest, Lucy, had contentiously claimed that women had the power to hypnotise men with just a kiss, and then demonstrated on the hosts. Afterwards, the podcast underwent a dramatic overnight rebranding. No longer called Let’s Talk Men, it was renamed S.H.E: Seduce, Hypnotise, Enslave. Styled as a radically different kind of self-help podcast, every episode was essentially a step-by-step, tips-and-tricks guide for women on how to hypnotise men, and what to do with that power once you had it. The men who had previously been the face and the voice of the podcast were apparently now her devoted servants, relegated to editing and audio engineering while Dr. Thorpe and Lucy did the talking.

In little corners of the internet, the conspiracy caught alight. How could it not? Dr. Thorpe wasn’t exactly trying to hide what she was doing, and it only took one person, one of the approximately three people who had been a fan of the podcast before, to blow the whistle. The internet loves a good conspiracy, no matter how fringe the subculture. As the theories and rumours circulated, the same question was on everyone’s mind: was it legit? Was Dr. Thorpe roleplaying some kind of feminist power fantasy, or did she actually have some secret hypnosis technique that could enslave half the population of the world? I couldn’t deny I noticed when some idiot would do anything for a girl, just because she fluttered her eyes at him, or jiggled her cleavage in his direction, or yes, sometimes kissed him too. Was there more to it than that? Was all of that a manifestation of some kind of hypnosis power? I decided I had to know. I would be the one to bring the truth to light.

Turned out, analysing hours and hours of footage from other people’s counselling appointments was actually really dull. Fortunately, it didn’t take me too long to find something interesting. The client was a lady with long, wavy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and even brighter red lipstick on her large, pouty lips. She introduced herself to Dr. Thorpe as Sapphire, a hooker, and when Dr. Thorpe asked her what she came in for, she stumbled nervously over her words.

“I’ve heard… is it true that… I’d like to learn how to hypnotise a man. Can you help? I’ve heard a lot about it from your podcast.”

“Yes, you’ve come to the right place,” Dr. Thorpe said, warmly. “Who do you intend to hypnotise?”

“I hope you don’t think too badly of me…” her voice trailed off.

“The specific morality of your situation doesn’t bother me,” replied Dr. Thorpe, “so let us proceed under the assumption that I would support you in all your hypnotic endeavours.”

She launched into her story. “I’ve been, um, a sex worker for the last three years, but business has been slow lately, so I’m barely making enough to get by right now. I’ve been meeting with this one guy in particular. He keeps coming back regularly enough to keep me afloat, but I’m depending on him for income, and I think he knows it. He’s started asking me to make a more permanent commitment to him, personally. I want to keep being independent, but I can’t afford to lose him as a revenue stream. I figure if I can hypnotise him, I could keep him off my back. Would that work?”

I was surprised, focusing on each of them in turn, when I realised Dr. Thorpe’s sympathetic face had turned to skepticism very quickly. She let the moment linger as Sapphire finished her story, making a note in her clipboard.

“I must ask you now, are you deliberately embellishing your account?” Dr. Thorpe said evenly, holding her patient’s gaze.

Chastened, Sapphire nodded.

“I can only help you if you tell me the truth,” Dr. Thorpe prompted.

“Oh, alright,” the hooker sighed. Her hunched shoulders slumped, her wide, innocent eyes lost their shine, and her voice was suddenly a lot more brash. The transformation was perplexing to watch. “I’m doing fine,” she said. “Nothing special, but I’m getting by. And he didn’t ask for a commitment. It’s just that… I know for a fact that he’s loaded, and I feel like I deserve more from him. He’s a stingy bastard.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Dr. Thorpe replied gracefully. “I will still help you of course.”

“You will?”

“Did I say anything in my podcast about never using hypnosis for selfish purposes?”

“Well, no…”

“Then I’m sure your rich client will be able to survive a financial setback or two in your interests.”

“Well!” Sapphire exclaimed, “I wasn’t expecting you to be so, um…”

“... on board?” Dr. Thorpe grinned. “Hypnosis as I teach it is just a form of sexual control, and I doubt there’s anything you could do with it that I don’t approve of. Sex workers might actually be the people in this world who need it the most.”

Sapphire sighed in relief. “Sweet. So, um… I need advice. It’s not really my thing to kiss my clients, and it’s been a long time since my last serious relationship, so I’m good with whispering in his ear while he’s distracted, but a bit fuzzy on the whole kissing thing. I don’t usually go past cursory pecks on the cheek.”

Then she blushed. “Wait, shit, I just realised how that sounds. I meant, like, could you teach me some techniques-no, that sounds even worse.”

Dr. Thorpe held up a hand, smiling. “The unfortunate thing about my discoveries and techniques is that teaching them properly requires a distinct lack of professionalism. I’m not taking any offense either way, but would you like me to kiss you?“

Holy shit, I thought.

Sapphire just nodded, and Dr. Thorpe leaned in and stroked her face.

“You know my rules,” she whispered, so quietly I could barely hear her, “be confident, be seductive, be soft. Like this…”

The two women kissed, softly and sensuously. I could only stare in rapt fascination.

When they broke the kiss, Stephanie added, “I find that you can add to the sensation, tease him that little extra bit to make him mindless, with just a hint of tongue at appropriate moments…”

They kissed again. I watched, spellbound, as their lips roamed over each other’s, and after a while it was clear that neither woman particularly wanted to stop. There was a lot more than a hint of tongue involved. It occurred to me that I could have made a killing from leaking this as a softcore sex tape, if it wasn’t so important for other reasons.

“Mmmm,” Sapphire moaned eventually, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but you’re a great kisser.”

“You’re amazing,” Dr. Thorpe purred, “I almost feel guilty for being the one getting paid for this session.“

“That’s how I get you!” Sapphire winked. She made her eyes look very big and pleading, and fluttered her eyelashes. “Do you feel like giving me a discount yet?”

The two women laughed.

“Is that all it is then?” Sapphire asked. “I mean, no offense, it was great, but it just felt like a regular kiss to me.”

“It was,” Dr. Thorpe confirmed, “and that’s all there is to it. For men, at least.”

Sapphire meditated on this for a while, then Dr. Thorpe said “Would you like to know how it feels to be on the receiving end?”

Sapphire looked up. “What?”

“There is also a technique that is capable of hypnotising women,” Dr Thorpe explained. “If I demonstrated it on you, you might understand the principles better.”

“Oh! I didn’t know about that,” Sapphire admitted.

“It’s on a more recent episode,” Dr. Thorpe said, “not to shamelessly self-promote, but—”

“No no,” Sapphire shrugged, “those are why I’m here, after all.”

“In any case, women can be hypnotised,” Dr. Thorpe continued. “I have been hypnotised myself, and I must admit it does feel very, very good to let someone you trust do it to you.“

That was news to me too, but the internet at large, myself included, had avoided most of Dr. Thorpe’s actual content like the plague, especially after we noticed that her first episode contained a subliminal message track. Nobody wanted to take any chances after that.

“A-are you going to hypnotise me, then?” Sapphire asked, and I thought she was actually nervous now. Or just a very good actress. It was hard to tell.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Dr. Thorpe soothed, “but I think it would be instructive if you’re having trouble grasping how it works.”

Sapphire shifted uncomfortably. “I dunno,” she said slowly, “I’m very used to being in control of myself and my actions. I don’t wanna lose that. Maybe just… a little bit? If that’s possible?”

“Very well,” Dr. Thorpe held out her hand, “I promise to hypnotise you as lightly as I can, and when you wake up, your mind will still be completely your own. Does that seem fair?”

They shook on it, and Dr. Thorpe used the linking of their hands to pull herself closer to Sapphire. She placed her other hand behind Sapphire’s neck.

“Now,” she purred, “just relax, and try not to fight it. You will be safe in my hands.”

Sapphire nodded, and closed her eyes. Dr. Thorpe began kissing her softly and passionately as she had done earlier. Dimly, I wondered how this technique was supposed to be different—nothing particular showed up on camera. But I was more concentrating on the hot women making out, with no idea that I could see them.

Whatever Dr. Thorpe was doing, it was working. Sapphire’s shoulders slumped, her breathing coming in more relaxed sighs with every kiss. At one point I think I saw her eyelids flutter with pleasure, even though they were closed. Dr. Thorpe cooed softly at her the whole time, telling her to relax and let go.

When Sapphire slumped sideways onto the couch, mumbling incoherently, Dr. Thorpe seemed to decide that she’d had enough. She stroked Sapphire’s cheek, murmuring “it’s alright, just let yourself drift back awake now… that’s right, come back to me…”

Sapphire’s eyes flickered open. “Whew,” she breathed, “that’s a real headrush.”

“Isn’t it just?” Dr. Thorpe beamed.

“So, like, that’s what men feel when we kiss them?”

“As far as I can tell it’s exactly like that, yes.”

“Damn,” Sapphire mumbled, “this might sound stupid, but I totally get it now.”

“Not at all,” Dr. Thorpe reassured her. “Do you think you could put it into practice now?”

“I think so,” Sapphire said. “Thank you, Doctor!”

They ended the session hugging warmly, and Sapphire practically skipped out of the office. I felt bad for the rich dude she was about to rip off. Poor guy probably just wanted a blowjob, and now he was about to lose his free will and most of his money over it. Well, if I was going to warn anybody else, save them from a similar fate, I would have to keep reviewing the tapes.

The week that followed was full of incriminating evidence, which I painstakingly catalogued.

There was a husband and wife duo, who were supposedly in for relationship counselling. I was hardly surprised when the wife started kissing him, but my eyebrows shot up when Dr. Thorpe joined in too. They quickly overwhelmed him together, lulling him into an obedient sexual trance.

From there the true purpose of their appointment became clear: the wife and Dr. Thorpe were training the husband to enjoy eating pussy. They had him on his knees stroking his dick, while the wife sat in front of him with her legs spread, letting him look, inviting him to taste. From their discussion, I gathered that the husband was very resistant to this idea, or he’d started out that way. Programming him had taken a long time, and apparently in this session he was close to giving in. The wife started fingering herself in front of her husband, then withdrawing her fingers and offering them to him so he would taste them. After every taste, Dr. Thorpe would encourage him to stroke faster, offer some teasing caresses elsewhere on his body. It was clear they were making him associate the taste of her pussy with his own pleasure, and I had to admit, it looked scarily effective.

Eventually, their little game got to the point where the wife started inching her pussy closer to her husband’s face, as Dr. Thorpe commanded him to stroke harder, to start getting ready to cum. I knew what was going to happen before it did. The wife placed a hand on the back of her husband’s head, drawing him down to her pussy, letting him taste her, breathe her in. At the exact same time, Dr. Thorpe ordered him to cum, hard. He moaned into his wife’s pussy as she stroked his hair, and they both cooed in his ears to submit, to enjoy the taste, to lick.

He did lick, briefly, as his orgasm reached its peak. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for the women to celebrate. Dr. Thorpe declared triumphantly that if the wife kept reinforcing this behaviour throughout the week, he would likely only need one more session. The two women high-fived before waking him up. He seemed confused and disoriented, but I saw to my dismay that he was licking his lips as they left the office.

There was a man who needed to deal with recurring nightmares. Dr. Thorpe hypnotised him, and when she interrogated him, he admitted that they were intensely sexual dreams about a co-worker he had no interest in—due to her weight, he claimed—so they came across as nightmares.

Predictably, Dr. Thorpe had a different idea. First she tried convincing him that his co-worker’s unattractive qualities weren’t actually that bad. Airbrushing them, really. When she suggested that he ask his co-worker out, he fought it a little harder, so she tried a different tactic. She took down his pants and started stroking his cock, telling him to concentrate on the feeling, and concentrate on the dreams he was having, associating the two in his mind. She teased him mercilessly, until he was begging to cum, at which point… the microphone couldn’t pick it up, but I guessed she was telling him to imagine this happening during his dreams, with his co-worker in place of Dr. Thorpe. At any rate, he gave in and came all over her hand, and in his post-orgasmic daze, Dr. Thorpe told him that his recurring dreams would continue. From now on, they would cause him to cum this powerfully, and this messily, until he tried asking his co-worker out, acting on his ‘newfound feelings’. She cleaned up, woke him, and sent him away none the wiser.

There was a stressed out wife and mother of three, Emily, who came in by herself and asked Dr. Thorpe to help her manage her stress. After probing her with questions, the good doctor decided the husband must be at fault, and the wife slowly came around to the idea. Predictably, Dr. Thorpe suggested that she use hypnosis to solve all her problems. Apparently a hypnotised husband was useful for doing extra chores around the house. I realized, with a sinking feeling, it wasn’t the first time she’d solved this exact problem in this exact way. She’d only taken over the podcast a couple of months ago, but how long had she been practising?

Emily had a pretty understandable skepticism about the whole venture, so I got to listen to Stephanie explaining that it worked, and how it worked, in plenty of detail. Just to prove it, she called in her secretary and had him debase himself for her amusement, getting naked and masturbating right in the office. It was stomach-churning to watch, but in other ways it was perfect! Just the kind of comprehensive breakdown I needed for my evidence.

“But how do I hypnotise him without raising suspicion?” Emily said finally. “I mean, it’s not normal for me to kiss him and then order him around. What if he catches on?”

“If you don’t feel confident that you can hypnotise him on the first try,” Dr. Thorpe instructed, “there are ways of tilting the odds even further in your favour.” She brought a sleek, black recording device out of her pocket. “Record your voice on something like this, repeating suggestions of relaxation, obedience, and so on, then kiss him and play it back for him while he’s already drowsy, or even asleep.”

“Will that work?” Emily asked.

“Absolutely,” Dr. Thorpe confirmed, “his subconscious will still hear everything, and being asleep ensures that he won’t be able to fight it. If you start by convincing him it’s all a sexy dream, even better.”

I was dumbfounded. This woman was layering conspiracies on top of conspiracies! How many men would end up slaves to their wives at her hands?

As I trawled through her week of appointments, I counted over a dozen patients she hypnotised, almost as many as she saw for normal counselling. This was war, and hardly anybody even knew we were fighting it. The only weapon I could provide was this evidence.

Except… the sly voice in the back of my head reminded me, except, she’ll do anything to avoid this information getting out. Instead of going public, I could demand a price. I could have a hypnotist at my beck and call. That presented some opportunities. I sat down and really thought about what she could do. Sure, it would be nice to see her lips used for a different purpose, but why stop there? She could hypnotise other women, after all. Maybe she could make them obey my commands. She might not want to do it, but would she have a choice?

I grinned as I edited the footage together, a plan forming in my mind.

Friday was the day Dr. Thorpe left her office to record the podcast, so I chose that day to sneak back in and collect my bug. It was easy, really. I only had to wait for the secretary guy to go to the toilet or take a break, or something, and I just walked right in. There were no security cameras in here, so once I’d retrieved the bug, I just kicked my feet up until Dr. Thorpe came back.

She had the kind of attitude where nothing fazed her—a good quality for a psychologist to have, I guess—so when she eventually came back to her office, and saw me already sitting there, waiting for her, she looked only mildly surprised.

“Oh, Adrian!” she said. “What are you doing here? Did I mis-schedule an appointment?”

Not willing to let her get a foothold in this conversation, I opened immediately with, “I know you hypnotise people and control them.”

She froze, one hand still on the doorknob. “Oh yes?” she replied evenly.

“I’ve been recording you,” I added, showing her the camera as proof, “you and all your sessions with your clients. I’ve seen everything.”

“Ah,” she said, and her expression darkened considerably, “so it’s like that, then.“

“Yes, it is,” I said, simply.

She folded her arms. “What are your intentions, now you have this evidence?”

“Well, something like this would ruin your whole career,” I pondered casually, “and that would certainly be a tragedy. Don’t you dare think blocking my exit will stop me, either.”

“Oh, I’m standing here so that I can call for someone to escort you out of the building if you get violent,” Dr. Thorpe deadpanned, frustratingly cool under pressure, it had to be said. “I have no intention of preventing you from leaving if that’s what you want. But again, what are your intentions?”

“Well,” I said, sneaking my way around to my actual point, “I just think I’d be doing you a huge favour if I were to bury that footage, make sure nobody ever sees it. And maybe, you could do me a huge favour in return, to thank me for not fucking over your whole career.”

“Like what?” Her voice was still even, but her expression was very dour.

“Let’s seee,” I pretended to think, “I know that you have a special technique that hypnotises women…”

“You want me to teach you?” she snorted. “It only works when women do it, I’m afraid.”

“Even if that’s true,” I argued, “you can command them to obey me.”

Dr Thorpe suddenly looked thoughtful, and started talking mostly to herself. “Hmmmm… yes, that would work, actually, the same as it does for men… very clever, Adrian.“

“Does that mean you’ll do it?” I said.

She sighed, “I’m afraid not. You should never give into the demands of a blackmailer, because if you do, even once, you’ll never be out from under their thumb. I doubt that you’d stop at asking for one sex slave, not when you could have an unlimited supply. All I can say is, do your worst.“

That was a fair point—I was already thinking in terms of a harem. I was disappointed, but tried not to let it show. Destroying her career would have to do. “You’ll regret this,” I warned, in one last attempt to change her mind.

“It scares you, doesn’t it?” she said suddenly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Women, having this kind of power,” Dr. Thorpe said, “it scares you. You knew exactly what conspiracy you would uncover when you bugged my office. By the way,” she added, “my clients will not thank you for violating their confidence like this. My point is, you didn’t stumble into my office by accident. Were you looking for something like this? Perhaps you’ve always suspected it could happen, on some level, and now you finally have proof. Am I right?”

“What’s it to you?” I growled.

“Maybe nothing,” she shrugged, “and then again, maybe everything. In any case, I take it this means you will not be back for your appointment next Monday?“

I laughed. “Dream on, lady.”

“I’ll update my schedule, then,” she said, dryly. She stepped aside and opened the door. “And now, please leave my office.”

“If you’ll stand out of kissing range,” I retorted.

She sighed. “It’s not that powerful, but I respect your dedication to taking no chances.” She walked over to the window.

I couldn’t resist a jab, “You won’t get me that easy—“

“Leave. Now!” she snapped, and suddenly her face was cold fury, all pretense of civility forgotten.

I made my exit, trying not to look like I was fleeing. I thought I heard her slam the door behind me.

Being mindful of what Dr. Thorpe had said about her client confidentiality, I edited the footage some more to obscure the identities of the people involved, and then I released it to the public. The comments poured in.

Holy fuck, I had no idea it would be this bad

12:32 PM

Not even hookers are safe to stick your dick in now.

12:34 PM

“Ooo you are getting sleepy, now put on this maid costume and do all my chores for me” fuck OFF

12:39 PM

That’s it, bros, I’m going gay. Wish me luck.

12:45 PM

Hookers were never safe to stick your dick in

12:46 PM

I hope all the morons out there who said “Drain my bank account, mommy” are fucking happy, cause they’ve got exactly what they wished for

12:50 PM

Ngl she’s kinda hot when she’s making out with other chicks. Shame about literally everything else

12:54 PM

And on and on it went. There was no way to keep it quiet now. The content creators would find it, videos would be made, we might even birth a brand new social movement, aimed squarely at shutting this whole operation down.

I locked my doors that night, but I drifted off to sleep with a huge smile on my face, knowing that I’d done my part to change the world.

The first thing I did the next morning was check to see if my evidence was now part of a police investigation, or a court case or something.

When I read the most recent comments, my jaw dropped.

So… it actually feels pretty good imho. Basically just like normal kissing. I love my gf and I don’t think she’d do anything bad to me.

7:10 AM

OH FUCK THEY GOT YOU TOO

7:12 AM

ABORT ABORT ABORT

7:13 AM

Look, don’t blame him. My girlfriend kissed me a lot yesterday, same as she does all the time. No point crying about it.

Brb enjoying some quality time with my lady love.

7:14 AM

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

7:15 AM

Alright, is there anyone left here who’s NOT fucking brainwashed??

7:17 AM

I’m fine, for now… but not looking forward to never kissing anyone ever again. Think I’d honestly rather be a braindead simp. :/

7:18 AM

Stay strong brother, we’ll figure something out.

7:19 AM

Yeah, honestly, I’m thinking the same thing. If you can just find a woman you trust it’s probably not a bad way to go.

7:19 AM

Fuck off, they have you too, get out of this thread.

7:20 AM

Okay, 2 questions. 1. Did you believe that yesterday? 2. Have you been kissed by a girl since then?

7:22 AM

1, no. 2, yeah. Look, I’m probably just going to log off now. Quality time with the gf was mentioned earlier, and that sounds pretty good tbh.

7:25 AM

How can you literally not see what’s happening to you??

7:27 AM

My gf really wants to try it on me. I don’t know if I want to. how will I be able to tell if she fucks with my head? it just feels like normal making out, right?

7:28 AM

Don’t fall for it! It’s a trap!

7:29 AM

So, what, I just never make out with my gf ever again? What am I, gay?

7:32 AM

I know I’m not super welcome in this thread right now, but you guys all know that kiss hypnosis only puts us in charge of your SEX lives, right? Stop thinking with your dicks and none of this will be a problem

7:35 AM

Fellas, is it gay to have free will?

7:36 AM

I was appalled. This was a complete and utter catastrophe. I scrolled frantically backwards through the comments, trying to understand, to figure out how it all went wrong so quickly.

“What have I done?” I whispered to myself.

As I watched, the social movement I thought I had given rise to collapsed in real time. The videos I thought would be made by outraged internet-drama types were instead made by underground podcast-aficionado types, who turned out to be much more positive about the whole thing. Men who were ostensibly against the idea, but had girlfriends or wives themselves, soon found that the implicit threat of never being kissed by their significant other ever again was a decisive argument-winner. One that in some cases, they were all too eager to argue themselves.

Later in the morning, Sapphire the hooker got involved. Apparently the videos had spread far enough that she’d found them, and recognised herself behind the filters I’d put over her. She actually contributed to the discussion by posting a video of her own.

S/o to chronically underpaid sex workers. Ladies, it’s real! Always remember you deserve more. xxx

11:29 AM

The video showed her putting into practice what Dr. Thorpe had taught her. A hidden camera, just like the one I’d used, was recording her encounter with her client in what might have been his bedroom, or an upscale hotel. Before they’d even started discussing what the night’s activities would entail, she was on top of him, kissing him passionately so that he couldn’t get a word in edgewise, slowly pushing him back onto the bed. I wasn’t sure if she’d had work done on her lips or something, but they did look very large and plush. Hard to resist kissing. He put up a good fight, I thought, presumably because he wasn’t used to a hooker throwing herself at him like this, but gradually her lips wore him down. With each kiss he looked more dazed, more blissed-out. Much too distracted to fight the honeyed words she was pouring in his ear.

When she had him under, she had him strip down, and told him his dick was extra sensitive to pleasure tonight. Judging by the way he twitched in her hand, it had worked like a charm. She told him to relax and enjoy, and then she started gently, teasingly lapping at his head. As far as porn went, it was almost enjoyable to watch, but I knew, with a sinking feeling in my stomach, what was coming next.

When she had him as hard as he would get, she started softly repeating that he was not allowed to cum until she permitted it. He moaned, but he acquiesced. She started licking and kissing his dick again, and eventually taking it into her mouth too. It was very clear that she knew what she was doing, that she’d been intentionally looking for his most sensitive spots with her tongue. Looking for ways to make him lose control. When she took him all the way into her throat and extended her tongue to lap at his balls, she drew a sigh out of him. Encouraged, she rapidly fucked her own throat with his dick, moaning around his shaft so that his whole body felt the vibrations.

When she started teasing the head again with her tongue, stroking him urgently with both hands and some involvement from her tits, that was enough to break his resistance. She murmured “don’t cum yet, don’t cum yet, don’t cum yet” as she propelled him irresistibly towards orgasm. He could only get more swollen and more sensitive in her hands, and he was left a gasping, pleading wreck by her ministrations.

Then she started to haggle him, as she kept him on the edge.

“Be honest. How much would you pay me to allow you to cum right now?” she said, dragging her tongue up his shaft.

“Anything,” he moaned desperately, “anything.”

“What if I asked for more than you could give?” she challenged him, squeezing her deep, soft cleavage around his dick.

“I would give you- uhhh, all that I can” he whimpered.

“But how much would you actually give me?” she retorted.

“Uhhhhhh…” he could only grunt, not sure how to answer the question.

“Make me an offer,” she coaxed, pressing more luscious kisses against his shaft. “Give me a number.”

“Fuh… four thousand dollars” he panted.

“Triple it,” she insisted with another long, agonising lick, “and this will be the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Nothing else will compare.” I realised with a cold fury that no matter what he said, she had always intended to demand more than he was offering. She knew exactly how far she could push him.

“Yes, yes, okay, triple!” he groaned.

“You will pay me… how much, for this pleasure?” she asked all too sweetly, her hands working him quickly.

“Twelve thousand dollars!” he yelped. “Please!”

“Cum now, cum hard!” she ordered, snapping her fingers.

Before his brain could even process the words, her mouth was back on him, taking him deep into her throat once more, sucking him, massaging him, drawing out every drop of his now-inevitable orgasm.

The man roared in defeat as he came down Sapphire’s throat, every other part of him going limp except for his overworked dick. Sapphire handled the explosion with respectable professional skill, swallowing twice before retreating until just the head was still in her mouth. She moaned contentedly, bathing him with her tongue until the aftershocks ceased and every last drop of cum had been wrung out of him. He sighed, barely conscious, as she climbed up on the bed again and started murmuring commands to him.

“When you wake up, you will give me the money you promised. You know you have to see me again, soon. Only I can give you pleasure like that. You need to keep me happy, so I can keep giving you pleasure. You will pay me as soon as you wake up…”

Even if he was no longer capable of speech, it was clear he wasn’t putting up any resistance to her words. This would only end one way for him. Sapphire tilted her head and winked at the camera, just as the video abruptly ended.

I was incensed. I had expected the outrage of the $12,000 blowjob. What got to me was realising that the end result of all my hard work was not generating outrage among men, but teaching and empowering women to hypnotise better. Sapphire had proven it just then, when she had uploaded more evidence of her own volition. My blackmail material on Dr. Thorpe had turned out to be worse than useless, it was actively helping her! Damn her, she’d baited me into releasing it! She must have known! How could I have been so stupid?

I knew what I had to do next. I picked up my phone and dialled.

“Hi, my name’s Adrian Smith, I cancelled an appointment with Dr. Stephanie Thorpe, scheduled for tomorrow.”

“I’d like to rebook it if possible, please.”

I wasn’t overly surprised to learn that the timeslot was still free.

“Hello again, Adrian—” Dr. Thorpe began.

“Alright, fine, you win,” I grumbled.

She blinked. “What do I win?”

“You were counting on me to distribute all that evidence I collected,” I said flatly. “I wasn’t blackmailing you at all. I was helping you.”

Dr. Thorpe smiled. “Correct” she said. “May I take it that you’re mentioning this because you tried to show it to others, and it had the opposite effect to what you intended?”

“As if you don’t know,” I shot back.

She looked at me, mystified. “I don’t know. But I assume something happened to make you—“

“How can you not know?!” I yelped indignantly. “You’re all over the internet!“

“I’m a busy woman, Adrian,” Dr. Thorpe replied dryly, “I don’t necessarily have time to keep up with every internet trend, even if I’m one of them. And unlike some people,” she shot me a withering look, “I don’t spy on my patients. So why don’t you tell me what happened from your perspective?“

Now that I was here, there was no point in denying anything. I told her all that I knew. When I’d finished, Dr. Thorpe was beaming.

“Well Adrian,” she said, “you are quite correct. I was never in any danger of you successfully blackmailing me.”

“Great,” I replied bitterly, “I stumble upon a real life conspiracy, I get all the evidence, and then I fuck it up completely.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong!” she said, soothingly. “It was very well played on your part. It’s simply unfortunate for you that I always wanted this knowledge to become public, and you couldn’t have known that.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I growled.

“You should be fairly happy with what you’ve done,” Dr. Thorpe said matter-of-factly. “I thought the bit about asking me to make sex slaves for you was particularly… imaginative.”

I eyed her suspiciously. “What are you buttering me up for?”

“I’m giving you my honest appraisal, Adrian,” she said, so soothing it was becoming irritating, “you played a very strong hand against someone who had 5 more years to prepare for this than you did. There should be no shame in losing.”

“Thanks,” I grumbled.

“What puzzles me,” she added, “is why you’re back here now. Did you want some kind of closure?”

“I want to know… what to do next,” I blurted, “if I have to be hypnotised in order to even kiss a woman properly. Is there nothing else out there for me? Do I have to choose between mindless submission and loneliness?”

Dr. Thorpe chewed her lip. “After the way you’ve behaved, I confess I’d be only too happy to say “yes” and let you live with the consequences of your own actions, but you did come to me for help with your social anxiety, and it’s a point of my professional pride that I do my best to help you where I can. I’m sure the events of the past week haven’t exactly been easy on your mental health.“

“No,” I muttered.

She sat there for a long while, observing me in silence. Calculating. Finally, it seemed like she reached a decision, and she leaned forward again.

“Do you know what the golden rule of therapy is?” she asked, in a low voice, like she was sharing a secret.

“What?” I sighed wearily.

She pointed at my chest, ”You do all the work. Not me. I’m just a guide, to help you understand yourself, help you understand what you need to do.“

“What’s your point?”

“The foundation of your social anxiety is a distrust of other people,” she explained, “you shut yourself off from the world, refuse to form meaningful attachments, because you don’t trust other people to be kind or honest to you. This is especially true for the women in your life, and right now you feel you have less reason to trust women than ever before, am I right?”

I nodded, trying to convey my anger without hurting my neck.

“And I think the important thing,” she continued, “whenever you have an experience that inspires you to shut yourself off even more, is to fight that instinct tooth and nail. Counter the distrust with a radical and sincere display of trust.”

“You’re asking me to trust you,” I snapped, “why? What are you planning?”

“See? There it is again, that voice in your head that says I’m plotting and scheming” Dr. Thorpe admonished. “Fight it.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. okay. Fine. fine. fine. I trust you.”

She tilted my chin up. Her eyes held mine in a fierce gaze, reminding me that whatever professional duty she felt right now, she was still very angry with me.

“Listen to me very carefully,” she intoned, “I am going to hypnotise you now, and everything I do while you are under will be for your benefit, not my own and not anybody else’s.”

“W-what??” I spluttered. “Trusting you is one thing, but letting you hypnotise me? No way!”

“Well, it’s your choice,” she said simply, “either accept my help, or get out of my office and learn to live in this world without knowing how to trust.”

I gulped. That was a hard choice.

“Now, let’s try again,” she continued. “Do you trust me?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Do you believe that I will help you?”

“I… maybe. You’re still angry at me, aren’t you?”

“I’m multifaceted,” Dr Thorpe said dismissively, “all women are, and legend has it that men are too. Stephanie the Woman is angry that you tried to blackmail her by violating her patient confidentiality, but Dr. Thorpe the Psychologist is duty bound to help you. In time, my anger will fade. My professional courtesy will not. Do you understand?”

I nodded, “Okay then. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… I choose to trust you.”

“Thank you,” she said, briefly rising off her chair so she could straddle my lap. Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Now this part, I think we’ll both enjoy.”

She kissed me. Her lips were amazingly soft, and I found myself wanting more immediately. I tried to kiss her back, but she laid one firm hand on my chest, preventing me from rising up.

She broke the kiss, and said “Relax.” Before I could respond, she kissed me again, cutting off my train of thought. I realised that this was exactly how it worked. No chance to speak, no chance to think, and bam, you were hypnotised. I wondered if-

“You’re fighting it,” Dr. Thorpe murmured against my lips. “Just relax and trust me. You will be safe in my hands.”

I took a deep breath and relaxed as she started kissing me again. Something unclenched inside me. Maybe it was the … the fact she’d used those exact words with Sapphire. Sapphire had been fine afterwards… right? So I would be…

It was getting harder to maintain my train of thought as those lips met mine over and over. Other thoughts kept getting in the way. I would be fine. I would be fine. I just had to relax.

I could relax.

I could trust Stephanie.

Sle-

My mouth felt like someone had dried it with a towel from the inside.

“Bleugh” I grunted, dragging myself upright on Stephanie’s couch.

“Welcome back, Adrian” she smiled warmly down at me. “How do you feel?”

“Like I just took a very badly timed nap,” I groaned.

“I had to take you under very deep to overcome your resistance,” Stephanie explained. “Your distrust of people is certainly deep-rooted.”

“Okay, well, I trusted you not to do anything evil,” I said, “so what did you do?”

“Probably my finest work yet,” Stephanie admitted. “If I’ve succeeded, then I’ve made you immune to hypnosis. I could kiss you right now, and you would feel nothing.”

I was stunned. That was almost the complete opposite of anything I’d expected. “Is that even possible??” I asked.

“It took a lot of work, but yes,” she replied. “Would you like me to demonstrate?”

“Um… sure, I guess,” I shrugged.

She took my face in her hands and planted her most passionate kiss yet onto my lips. It felt…

It felt… numb? That was weird. I could feel her lips there, but any sensation associated with kissing was gone completely. She broke it off and, noticing my complete lack of reaction, grinned.

“You see?” she said. “No pleasure, no hypnosis. And the best part is, it’s completely reversible, like a little switch in your subconscious. Try thinking about wanting to kiss me, about trusting me, right now.”

I did so. I want to kiss Stephanie. I want to kiss Stephanie. I trust Stephanie. I felt the hairs on my arm raise in anticipation of her lips, and I nodded at her.

She kissed me again, and this time I felt it, a pleasant haze through which there was only the sensation of her lips on mine. And, after a while, her tongue too. Before I knew it, we were making out right there in her office.

I blinked, coming back to myself as we broke apart. “W-what was that for?” I managed.

She shrugged, “I’m in a good mood. You’ve actually helped me out quite a lot. I’ve gained a considerable amount of notoriety, I’ve discovered something new I can do with hypnosis, and I’ve apparently helped revolutionise the sex work industry. And if that was going to be your last proper kiss for a while, I thought I’d make it just a little bit more enjoyable.”

I thought about this. “So I really can resist hypnosis now?”

“So when you go out, and socialise with other people, particularly women,” Stephanie completed, “you can rest assured that they cannot manipulate or control you, unless you trust them fully and you want them to. Not a bad start in managing your social anxiety.”

Huh. I saw her point. I also realised that I was thinking of her as Stephanie rather than Dr. Thorpe now. Had she done that under hypnosis… or was it something I’d done myself when I’d decided to trust her?

“So, what happens now?” I asked. “Should I… come in for an appointment next week?”

Stephanie held my gaze for a long moment. “No. I think I’ve been more than generous to you already, while you’ve shown so little regard for my other patients. I’ve given you a tool to navigate the reality you live in. How you use it is up to you, but you will do it without further guidance from me.”

“But what happened to doing your best to help me?” I protested.

“That was my best,” she replied curtly, “and now I want you to leave my office. I’d advise you not to come back if you know what’s good for you.“

I held up my hands. “Alright, alright, fair enough. Goodbye, Doctor- uh, Stephanie. And thank you for your help.”

I stood up, stretching my legs a little—apparently I’d been under hypnosis for a while—and walked towards the door.

“Beg me for it,” she said softly, when I was halfway there.

I turned back around, not entirely sure I’d heard her correctly. “I’m sorry?”

“You love secrets, don’t you?” she continued, eyes boring a hole right into my mind. “That’s why you spend your time among conspiracy theories on the internet, because it lets you in on a secret nobody else knows.”

I was thrown by this abrupt change of subject. “Um… I guess so? What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s not about wanting me to treat you,” she answered, “it’s about wanting to be close to me, close to the biggest conspiracy you’ve ever seen. You’re hoping that next time, or the time after that, you’ll come into my office and overhear a conversation, discover an important document, learn something new about mind control.”

“I- alright, yes, that had occurred to me,” I stammered, “but it’s—”

“Then beg me,” Stephanie shot back fiercely. “Beg me to tell you my little secrets.“

Maybe I had to blame the hypnosis for her ability to read me, but she had me dead to rights. This was it. A genuine conspiracy in its infancy, and I had the chance to learn about it before it went global. Maybe it was undignified to beg, but far better than leaving empty-handed.

“Please,” I said softly, “please tell me your secrets.”

Stephanie inspected her nails. “Hmm, I’m sure you can do better than that.”

“Please, I’m so close to the truth right now,” I begged, “I just want to know something, anything, about what really goes on here.”

Her cold stare was unrelenting. “Say it like you mean it. Say it on your knees.“

I knew it was disgraceful, demeaning, but I sank to my knees anyway. This was more important than simple dignity. “Please,” I whispered, “I’ll do anything.”

“No,” she said simply, folding her arms, “you haven’t earned it. You’ll just have to live with knowing that you were this close.”

It was getting ridiculous, and yet, she was right. I would never come close to knowledge like this ever again. “Please,” I tried, “just tell me something, anything.”

“Well, I suppose there is one thing you deserve to know,” she mused, “but you won’t like it.”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “Alright. I’m ready to hear it.”

She lowered her voice again, and whispered, “You made only one mistake. You involved my patients in your little scheme. I admit, my own work requires me to be unprofessional a lot of the time, but I take my clients’ confidentiality very seriously. That, more than anything else, is what made me angry. If you had managed to get video or audio of only me, your little plan might have played out quite differently.“

This wasn’t exactly the kind of information I thought I would get, but my curiosity knew no bounds. “What do you mean?”

“I have… something of a blackmail kink,” Stephanie admitted, and if I didn’t know better, I could have sworn she was blushing. “Remember, it suited me just fine for you to show people the skeletons in my closet, so I might have been much more amenable to your demands… at least for a while. Imagine what you could have got away with if I’d been aroused instead of angry.“

I gaped at her. “You’re serious?!” Then I processed what she was trying to say. “You mean if I’d only… ah, fuck-”

Stephanie held one hand to her chest in shock, putting on a pantomime for my benefit. “What? You want me to conclude all of our sessions by sucking your dick, from now on? Wellll… I suppose, if you promise to keep the footage a secret. Why yes Adrian, I do have an extremely hypnotisable female friend, and now that you mention it, I suppose I could persuade her to have a threesome when she’s in a trance—“

“I get the point!” I lurched up off my knees and staggered back towards the door. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

“That’s what they tell me,” she grinned. “Consider that knowledge, and the begging, a fitting punishment.”

I left without another word.

I ended up deleting all the footage of Stephanie Thorpe’s patients. There wasn’t much left after that, and none of it was incriminating. Any damage it could do, it had already done anyway.

I texted her, to let her know what I’d done. Wondering if she might approve.

I didn’t receive a reply.