The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Deeper,” the elegantly-dressed man’s voice intoned. “Go deeper, Carina. Deeper, and deeper still, into trance, guided by my voice.” On he went, delivering his lines with the ease of long practice. As he spoke, he passed his hands back and forth before the well-endowed and scantily clad beauty with upswept black hair who shared the stage with him.

After a few moments, he turned toward his audience. “The lovely Carina is now in trance, completely hypnotized,” he announced. She will do anything I command.” With just the slightest hint of a leer, he repeated, “Anything I command.” As expected, that got him laughter and whistles from the overwhelmingly male audience.

“Now, now,” he chided. “The Amazing Sandor is a professional performer of the magical arts. But I promise, what you will see next will be every bit as memorable as if I commanded the lovely Carina to put on a strip show for you. And a lot less likely to get us raided.” That last bit got more laughter, as intended.

He paused for a moment before continuing: “The mind has powers scarcely dreamed of, powers it never uses in ordinary everyday life. It can overcome pain and injury, for instance. It can retrieve long-buried memories or bury ones we don’t want so deeply that we don’t even suspect they exist.

“And it can even defy the law of gravity itself.”

The magician gestured. His assistant moved over to where two large boxes sat together to form a crude couch and lay down on them.

The Amazing Sandor walked over to stand at Carina’s feet. He bent over her and said, “You are now perfectly supported, Carina, perfectly safe. You cannot fall, because you are lying on a couch made of two strong wooden boxes. Do you understand, Carina?”

“Yes, sir,” came the reply in a dreamy voice just loud enough to carry to the audience. “I am perfectly . . . supported. I cannot . . . fall.”

“That’s right,” Sandor agreed. “You cannot fall.” He paused, the repeated dramatically, “You cannot fall.” He bent over at Carina’s feet and pulled at the box underneath the lower half of her body. It slid away.

Incredibly, his brunette assistant remained suspended, her lower body perfectly horizontal, just as before. The audience gasped. Some of its members had heard of this kind of thing, but seeing it was another matter.

“Wait!” the magician cried out. “I’m not done yet.” He walked around the suspended beauty and bent down once more, behind her head. He pulled on the second box, which slid away, leaving Carina apparently hanging entirely unsupported in empty air. The crowd gasped.

A long wand rested atop the box which had originally supported Carina from the waist down. The magician picked it up, turned it horizontal and passed it over the woman’s body, meeting no obstacle. Then, bending a bit to reach, he did the same below her unmoving form. The audience gasped again.

The Amazing Sandor smiled. “Now,” he said, “we’ll need to put everything back in order, won’t we? After all, even the greatest magician cannot defy the laws of nature forever.” He set the wand back where it had originally lain and pushed the box across to its original position, then walked around Carina’s seemingly unsupported body and pushed in the other box as well.

Naturally, there was no actual magic involved. Sandor’s unmoving assistant actually rested on a clear glass platform rendered invisible to the audience by the carefully arranged stage lighting and the viewers’ distance from the setup. The tops of the boxes were thin enough to keep audience members from noticing the slight settling of Carina’s body when they were moved outward and her slight flexing to allow each one to slide back under her.

Sandor gave a signal and the stage curtains slid closed. After a moment, the magician and Carina emerged from behind them and bowed to the audience, which applauded enthusiastically, the men in the front rows having enjoyed the view of Carina’s cleavage at least as much as the performance. Then they disappeared behind the curtains again.

Backstage, The Amazing Sandor changed out his magician outfit into an ordinary suit befitting his offstage life as Clement Ashford. Carina discarded her skimpy costume in favor of more ordinary clothes: high heels, tight leggings and a long-sleeved blouse. As always, she left the top two buttons undone, offering a view of her considerable bust. Neither was distracted by the other undressing; they were, after all, professionals.

“Good house tonight,” Ashford said. “It’s always disappointing to look out and see a lot of empty seats.” He smiled. “And then, of course, there’s the money.” The Majestic was a big theater, and its operators paid a lot better than some of the smaller venues. The Amazing Sandor was coming up in the world, but he wasn’t yet a big enough name to fill his schedule from appearances at top-of-the-line places, and he still had to eat, not to mention pay Carina and keep up his equipment.

“Yes,” Carina answered. “There’s the money.” She smiled back at Ashford. There was an oddly knowing look in her eyes, the magician noted absently. She reached up unhooked the last piece of her costume, a diamond-encrusted choker, from around her neck and began swinging it gently from her right hand. Casually, she brought it up, still swinging back and forth, in front of her chest. Ashford had already been looking into her cleavage; now the necklace flashed in front of it, sparkling in rainbow colors. After a few seconds, Ashford’s eyes began tracking its motion. He didn’t notice.

“Yes, the money,” she purred. “I can remember when we were just starting out, sleeping in fleabag hotels and performing in low-rent burlesque clubs for half-drunk guys in dirty shirts with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths.” She chuckled. “My part of the act made a few of ’em drop the cigs, and I remember once one guy swallowed his. That was nasty!” Back then, they’d played up her physical assets more, not that she didn’t show them off now, because they hadn’t had the money for really good props. “We’re doing lots better now.”

Still following the choker with his eyes, Ashford nodded. “Much better now,” he murmured.

“We could never have afforded the hotel we’re in now back then,” Carina went on. “Or the props we have now.” She smiled wickedly. “Or the nice clothes you buy me, or jewelry like this choker swinging in my hand, back and forth, catching the light.” Ashford’s eyes swung back and forth, back and forth, as his head bobbed up and down in agreement.

“But you don’t remember buying this choker for me, or the clothes either,” she continued. As she spoke, the necklace continued to swing back and forth, back and forth. “You just accept that I have them, and never wonder how I got them, or even when.” Back and forth. Back and forth. “That’s right, isn’t it, Clement.”

Once again Ashford nodded. “Yes, mistress.” He immediately forgot what she had just said and how he had responded. He stopped thinking.

Carina smirked. Ashford thought he was in charge, when actually she was the one running the show.

It hadn’t always been that way. When they were just starting out, things had been just as Ashford thought they still were: him as the star, her as his assistant and eye candy, and offstage, him as the dominant partner in everything else, including sex. She hadn’t really been happy about the arrangement, but what could she do?

Her smirk widened as she remembered.

THEN:

A little while after Ashford had started using hypnotism as part of the act, Carina had had an inspiration.

Ashford’s on-stage “hypnotism” was as phony as a wax banana, but she knew hypnosis was real—psychiatrists, doctors, even dentists sometimes used it. And you really could make hypnotized people do things. Maybe not rob a bank or stuff like that, but all kinds of other things. And you really could fix it so they’d forget stuff, like having been hypnotized in the first place, but still do things even after they woke up even though they didn’t remember being told to.

She’d started reading up on it online, and after a while she’d felt confident enough in her understanding of it to start working up a routine, developing a spoken script and practicing the hand passes and swinging pendant stuff, using the cheap costume jewelry she’d worn then as her pendants, what the stuff she’d seen on the computer called focus objects. What finally convinced her she was ready was when she’d been practicing in the mirror and suddenly realized she’d lost half an hour and the pendant she’d been using was on the floor. She had hypnotized herself!

Well, she had thought, if I can do it to myself by accident, I ought to be able to do it to Clement on purpose. She just had to think of a way to let her try without letting him figure out she was trying to hypnotize him for real. And of course if it worked she could fix it so he’d forget it had ever happened.

It was a couple of weeks later when she finally decided to make her move. She had done some more practicing by then, including a successful effort to deliberately hypnotize herself in which she’d used a pre-recorded message to command that she strip down to nothing but her tiny panties, fishnet stockings and high heels and then wake up and forget she’d done it. When she’d come to and found herself practically nude but with no memory of stripping, she’d been both weirded out and elated.

On the road these days they always rented adjacent apartments. They had been in bed together in Ashford’s apartment when she’d made her move. “Clement honey,” she’d said, “I need to go get something in my room.”

“What, now?” Ashford responded. “Can’t it wait till morning?”

She had pouted and responded, “It’ll just take a minute, I promise.”

“All right,” Ashford responded grouchily. Carina got up, pressed the wall button which controlled the room lights and went into her room through the door connecting their apartments. After a couple of moments she’d returned, carrying her diamond choker. Ashford had sat up and was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Okay,” Ashford said, “what was that about?”

“I had a fun idea of something we could do,” Carina replied. “You pretend to hypnotize me all the time on stage. What if I do it to you here?” She brought the choker up in front of her and started it swinging gently, letting the light from the overhead fixture bounce off it in rainbow sparkles into Ashford’s eyes.

“Okay, Carina,” the magician-hypnotist said. “I’m watching the necklace swaying back and forth. What next?” He wasn’t all that interested in her little game, but, he thought, there was no harm in going along with it, especially if it turned her on. Come to that, it was turning him on. His eyes had continued to follow the motion of the necklace. After a few moments, he didn’t even have to keep it up consciously; his eyes swung back and forth, back and forth, by reflex.

“That’s good,” Carina purred, watching him. “Now just keep following the motion, look past the sparkles from the necklace and follow the motion, relax and let everything just fade away except the necklace and my voice. Remember, we’re only pretending, so it’s okay to just relax and follow the motion and let everything fade away except the necklace, the pretty sparkles from it and my voice. Relax and let everything fade away except the necklace, the sparkles and my voice. Remember, we’re only pretending . . .” She kept on swinging the necklace and repeating her suggestions.

At last, after a couple of minutes, she stopped and looked down at Ashford. He was sitting quietly on the bed with his arms hanging loosely at his sides, his hands resting, palms upward, on the heavy blanket covering it. He didn’t seem to have noticed that she’d stopped swinging her necklace; his eyes kept going back and forth, back and forth, following the motion he still seemed to see.

It worked! Carina exulted. It really worked! Aloud, she addressed Ashford: “Clement, honey,” she cooed, “can you hear me? Say”—she hesitated, then went on—“‘Yes, mistress’ if you can hear me. Then nod your head.”

“Yes, mistress,” came the response in a calm, even voice. Ashford nodded. He fell silent, clearly waiting for a new instruction.

“That’s good, Clement honey.” Carina giggled. “Now listen as I explain something to you. Listen very carefully. Are you listening very carefully? Say ‘Yes, mistress’ again if you’re listening carefully.”

“Yes, mistress,” came the response.

“From now on, you will always call me ‘mistress’ when you’re relaxed like this, when you’re hypnotized like this, unless I tell you to call me something else. Do you understand, and will you do as I’ve told you to?”

“Yes, mistress.” Ashford didn’t register that Carina had said he was hypnotized. All that mattered was what she had told him to do. “Call you ‘mistress’ . . . when I’m hypnotized . . . like this.”

“That’s good.” Carina smiled down at Ashford. “But when you’re not hypnotized, you will call me by my regular name. You will call me by my regular name and you will not remember ever calling me ‘mistress.’ Do you understand?”

“Yes, mistress.” Ashford nodded again. “I understand. I will call you . . . by your regular name . . . when I’m not hypnotized. I will not remember . . . ever calling you ‘mistress.’”

My God, this is a turn-on! Carina felt herself growing hot. All this time, pretending to be hypnotized on stage and following Ashford’s—the ‘Amazing Sandor’s’—orders when I wasn’t, almost as if I really had been. And now the tables are turned. Boy, are they ever! The situation opened all kinds of possibilities.

What to start with? I know! thought Carina excitedly.

“Listen carefully, Clement,” she addressed the hypnotized man on the bed. “Tomorrow, you will find a branch of the bank you use and go there. You’ll put my name on your account so we can both take money out. Then you’ll come back to the apartment. You will completely forget going to the bank and putting my name on the account. You will believe both our names have always been on the account. You will believe this because it is true. You will know it is true because I have told you it is and everything I tell you is true. Do you understand what I want you to do, and will you do it? Repeat my instructions if you understand them and will obey them.”

“Yes, mistress.” Ashford reeled off Carina’s script.

“Perfect,” his assistant and controller said in a gloating tone. “Now in a moment I’m going to snap my fingers. When I snap my fingers, you will awaken with no memory of being hypnotized. Instead, you will believe that I’m pretending to be hypnotized, and you will be really aroused and will want nothing except to have sex with me. But even though you won’t remember being hypnotized, you will follow the instructions I’ve given you. Do you understand, and will you do what I’ve told you to do?”

“Yes, mistress.” Without being prompted, Ashford repeated Carina’s suggestions.

The next day, as instructed, he found a nearby branch of his bank. He went inside, walked over to one of the client service desks and sat down.

“How may I help you, sir?” The service clerk was a neatly-groomed woman in her late thirties, Ashford noted without really paying attention.

He told her what he wanted and the two of them went through the paperwork. When they were finished he asked, “When will this take effect?”

“Well, it’s morning,” came the response, “The change to the account should occur overnight.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Ashford replied. He stood up, walked to the revolving door and left the bank.

NOW:

Still smirking, Carina emerged from her reverie.

She had kept on hypnotizing Ashford, deepening her control each time. By now, she could put him under in seconds. And even though she now had access to all the money the two of them were making and could buy fancy clothes and jewelry and anything else she wanted, a lot of the time she made him buy things for her instead. It was, of course, the same pot of money whichever one of them dipped into it—but it wasn’t about the money. It was about the power. It was about knowing that she could make him do almost anything and not even realize what he’d done. She’d even programmed him to believe he really was hypnotizing her on stage.

‘Now Clement,” she directed, “when we go back to our apartment this evening, we’ll have sex as we usually do. You will pretend to hypnotize me into it, but you will believe you’re not pretending. I will pretend to let you hypnotize me, but you will believe I’m not pretending. Then we will have sex in the way you know I like, the way I’ve trained you to like. After that I’ll go to my room to sleep, and as soon as I leave your room you’ll get ready for bed and go to sleep.

“And as usual, when you wake up in the morning you will remember the sex and that you were the one who took the initiative and dominated me.”

“Yes, mistress.” Ashford’s head bobbed up and down.

“Very good, Clement.” Carina smiled. “Now in a moment, I’m going to say the words ‘Wake up, Clement’ and snap my fingers. When I say those words and snap my fingers, you will wake up. As usual, you will not remember being hypnotized because there is no need to remember being hypnotized, because you know I don’t know how to hypnotize anybody. Do you understand what I’ve told you to do, and will you do as I’ve told you to?”

“Yes, mistress.” Ashford nodded again.

“Good boy. Now wake up, Clement.” Carina snapped her fingers.

LATER:

Pleasure sizzled through Clement Ashford’s body as he thrust himself into Carina over and over. After each thrust, he kissed Carina’s cleavage and mumbled, “Yes, mistress.” When at last he came, the pleasure shot through him like a bolt of lightning. He screamed out “Yes, mistress! Yes! Yes!” and collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. As usual, he forgot what he had said.

After a few moments, Carina pulled herself off of him. She got up and stood for a minute or so looking down at the utterly relaxed body of the man who believed he was completely in control of their relationship both on stage and off. Then, smiling, she turned away and left the room, closing the door gently behind her. I’m the real magician, she thought smugly. I can make Clement’s mind disappear anytime I want.

In the room she had just left, Ashford roused himself long enough to change into pajamas and then went straight to bed. He fell asleep smiling almost as soon as his head hit the pillows.