The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Therapeutic Discovery!”

1

He was a seasoned, veteran therapist of long-standing, having been psychoanalysing mainly distressed and neurotic men and women now, for almost ten years. And, he was bored. There was no longer any challenge in his work or in his life, for that matter.

All of his original well-intentioned values were still there, of course, but he had known for a long time now that it was time for him to move on. But to ‘what’ he wasn’t quite sure. He sensed and felt there was somewhere or something he was meant to gravitate toward in his profession and in his life, but he simply didn’t know where to or to what.

He had researched everything that had ever interested him, including hypnosis and mind-control, and although the prospect fascinated him, he rarely had the opportunity, let alone the confidence, to try any sort of experiment with any of his patients, in spite of all the books and published articles, telling him that hypnotic amnesia was actually very easily induced.

A knock suddenly sounded on the door to his office.

It would be Diane, he thought, glancing at his watch. He rose from behind his desk and walked to the door, opening it quickly, allowing Diane, a reasonably attractive, dark-haired slim woman, in her mid-forties, to walk through and inside. He closed the door then returned to his desk, watching her, as she sat down in the chair opposite.

“How can I help you today, Diane?” he asked, allowing his gaze to take in her obviously distressed state.

“I’m having ... panic attacks, again,” she said hesitantly then lowered her eyes to stare idly at his desk or her lap.

Yes, she was, he thought, recognizing all of the classic signs of severe and acute anxiety. This shouldn’t take long, he decided, not really wanting to hear all over again, her anxiety history; knowing he could fix her problem, as usual and then brighten up her other-wise depressing, nerve-wracking day.

He decided to get straight into it but then stopped himself in mid-thought, not sure whether it was his own slight depression at his future career and life directions, or the look of sheer helplessness on Diane’s face, as she sat opposite him and just continued staring at the desk in front of him or down at her lap, all the time wringing her hands and fingers together, like a dishcloth.

Diane wasn’t sure she had done the right thing in coming to her therapist, again. She knew she wasn’t crazy, but she also knew she might be, if she didn’t somehow get rid of these damn panic attacks. They caused her to freeze, sure that something disastrous was about to happen, if she didn’t just stop dead in her tracks and wait for it to pass. But it had started to become a little embarrassing in the supermarket of late. Her close circle of weird, but wonderfully, friendly girlfriends, had suggested a therapist visit, once again. She had taken their advice and come along.

“Diane,” she heard him say to her.

She looked up and into his eyes, forcing herself for some reason. Whenever she was having one of these attacks, she just couldn’t bring herself to look at anybody, directly, without a great deal of difficulty. Smiling was simply right out of the question. Her face felt like it had been stretched taut over her bones. To smile would surely cause her cheeks to crack. Still, as usual, his eyes were warm and friendly.

He decided to take a punt, not really knowing why.

“I believe I can help you very quickly, this time, with hypnosis. Would you like to try?” he asked her, a little firmly. She’d always needed just a little of that to kick her off on the road to recovery.

Hypnosis, Diane quickly thought. Mind-control. That’s all I need. What the hell, she then thought. She couldn’t go on having these panic attacks. It was gradually killing her life, in spite of her strange, but friendly new group of close friends. Her life would just fade away completely, if she didn’t do something positive about fixing it up-anything.

“If you think so,” she replied. “I just want these panic attacks, and all that comes with them, to stop.”

So far so good, he thought, as he opened his lap-top with the spiral program on it. He started the program then turned the computer screen to face Diane, sitting opposite him, noticing her eyes glance quickly downward at it then quickly back up at him.

“Just relax, look back downward at the screen, and try to find the very centre of the spiral,” he told her, watching her eyes drop quickly, once again, to the screen in front of her.

“Notice how your breathing is already slowing down, as you watch the screen and try to find the centre.”

Diane did as she was told and tried to find the centre of the spiral. It was impossible. It didn’t have one. Every line of inward-turning spiral just seems to disappear into nothing and be replaced by another, which also disappeared into nothing. She did notice, however, that her breathing had slowed a little, just as he said it was. She felt a little more relaxed, too, than she had when she first arrived.

“Just take time out,” he told her smoothly, warmly, firmly. “Allow yourself to just keep gazing at the centre, wherever you try to see it. You’ll soon feel the entire weight of your own body feel heavier and heavier, down into the chair, as it relaxes more and more deeply while you quickly want to follow it. It feels so good for you and you know you need to feel that way, quickly.

He watched her facial demeanor closely for one full minute then continued, adhoc, not knowing what he was going to say next, but trusting in his experience and his anxiousness to do something different in his therapeutic work and own daily life—anything.

“The panic attack will quickly and gradually begin to go away again. And when you feel the heavy weight of your own body sink deeper and deeper into the chair, you’ll know you’re becoming more and more relaxed and calm, just like you really wanted and badly needed; more and more calmly and deeply hypnotized, as you, feel more and more of the relaxation washing downward completely over you, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes; draining all of the panic attack away with it, so much so, that you couldn’t even be bothered, any moment now, when I tell you that you can, to keep trying to keep your very tired, very heavy eyelids open, not one second longer than it takes you to let them close the instant I tell you to do so … now!

Diane instantly did as she was told and quickly she really did notice how heavy she felt in the chair. She felt like she was sinking right down into it. She needed that relaxing feeling. God, she needed it.

Her arms and legs felt as heavy as lead. And her thighs and buttocks felt spongy and weighty. She hadn’t been able to find the centre of the spiral and she no longer cared because she was feeling more and more relaxed, with each passing second. He had a nice voice, but strangely, it now seemed a little softer, as if it was coming from far away, somewhere.

Dianne idly thought about that, wondering why she felt that way, since he was only sitting opposite her, on the other side of the desk. She didn’t care now because she was becoming fascinated with how she was really beginning to feel; tired of trying to find the centre of the damn spiral.

He could tell by the deeply relaxed look of her facial features that she was slipping into trance quickly and easily. Her eyes had snapped shut after they had taken on a glazed look while she had been staring at the screen and listening to him talk.

He smiled inwardly. Next step, he decided, gaining a little confidence from her going to trance so easily, and himself going somewhere with her that he simply didn’t know, but would follow it and just see. He could always snap her quickly out of it.

“As you become more and more deeply hypnotized and very relaxed,” he began, “don’t be surprised if your eyes feel as if they’re glued shut, and just want to stay closed, all by themselves, so they can be and feel just as relaxed, as the rest of your mind and body are feeling, right now.”

Diane’s eyes had closed immediately, much to her surprise. And she could still hear his voice, but it sounded even further away and very soft, almost like a whisper. She continued to look through her eyelids at the imaginary centre she hadn’t been able to find, feeling her mind and body relaxing more and more, with each passing second.

Dianne felt good, she decided. Maybe there really was something to this hypnosis business, after all. Better than lying on his damn couch and staring at the ceiling while she told him her panic attack story.

He stared hard at her countenance, having observed that she had obeyed every suggestion he’d given her, so far, just like a good soldier. A little firmness with his voice seemed to be helping her trance depth state and hypnosis therapy, in general, so far. For an unknown reason then, he suddenly felt his body twitch and stir then his pulse quickened, slightly.

“You are now beginning to feel better than you have, for a very long time, Diane,” he told her, firmly. “So relaxed and so calm, and you haven’t had a terrifying thought, since you came in.”

He noticed her nod agree; some part of her mind had agreed with his chosen words.

“And the more you allow yourself to, just keep drifting downward in your own mind and body, with each easy word I say; the more better you’ll begin to feel, just like you are feeling already, only twice as deeply relaxed, and calm, and peaceful; without a care in the world, as if you’d taken a handful of Valium just coursing through your bloodstream; relaxing every tiny muscle in your mind and your body; where you are now feeling so relaxed, you couldn’t even be bothered to try and think of a single thought, except how soothing my voice is, when you hear each word and, allow it to take to even more deeply into hypnosis than you are right now.”

Diane could feel herself losing it to the sound of his voice and the very relaxing words and feelings throughout her mind and her body. She began to drift in and out, occasionally. His voice would sometimes seem loud and then soft, somehow, alternating between the two. It began to fascinate her, as she became more and more aware, that everything he was saying was actually coming true, just as he said it. She felt like she was slipping slowly downward, inside a long, soft tube of safety and protection; where nothing could get her or harm her or upset her, anymore.

He fought to keep his voice calm, in spite of his racing pulse, as he watched Diane go deeper and deeper into trance. She sat slumped in the chair, with her head down, almost to her chest. Her breathing was deep and steady. Her arms rested comfortably in her lap.

It was time, he decided out of left field, to put into practice what he’d once read in an article published by an Austrian psyche student about ‘firm’ mind-control, not soft and easy hypnotherapy—‘firm’ hypnotherapy.

“Now that you’re feeling so trouble-free, and so deeply hypnotized, Diane, you can already feel how nice it would be, to be able to come here, whenever you like; whenever you happen to be feeling stressed, or just want to take time out, for a little while, if things are starting to get you down. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

Diane was immediately aware of her head nodding, but she couldn’t recall consciously doing it, herself. It just seemed to do it on its own. She tried to talk and say ‘yes,’ but her throat and mouth seemed as dry as the Sahara desert. They just didn’t seem to want to work, so she simply stopped trying then concentrated, once again, on his voice. It seemed to be getting softer than ever. She strained to hear it and not miss a single word. It might be important, and it was such a huge relief just to relax and let somebody else do the talking and worrying for a change, instead of it always having to be her.

It was time, he decided; time to put her and her trance depth to the test, just to see if the Austrian psyche student was lying in his published article or not.

“Diane, listen very carefully now. Listen! I’m going to implant a special ‘trance key’ into your subconscious mind. Your special ‘trance key’ will allow you to come back to this wonderful feeling of peace and relaxation whenever you hear only me say it, whenever you need to get away, or whenever I want to say it. Would that be acceptable to you?”

Again, Diane felt her head nod, and again, she wondered why she couldn’t recall doing it, herself.

“That’s fine. You’re doing perfectly,” he soothed her reassuringly, dropping the firm tone edge from his voice. “Your trance key will be the words, ‘sleep time,’ and whenever you hear, the sound of my voice, say those words only, your head will slump forward immediately, onto your chest, and you’ll fall over the nervous panic attack cliff, and down into the same deep relaxation, you ‘are’ feeling, right now.”

He watched every nerve, every muscle, every fiber of her physical demeanor and facial complexion.

“No matter what you are doing, Dianne, or wherever you are, when you hear my voice only, say your special, just-for-you trance key words, you will go instantly back to this place; feeling only the deepest sense of peace of mind and body and relaxation you feel, right now; always relaxed and waiting patiently for the sound of my voice, to ‘instruct’ you, what to do next; whenever you hear me say your special trance key, ‘sleep time.’

Diane took it all in. It sounded like a great idea. Anything would be better than putting up with the damn panic attacks and the nerves that always came with them. This would be a ready escape whenever things got too much for her, that’s for sure.

“And when I awaken you in a few moments, Dianne, you will remember nothing of what I’ve told you during your trance, because your subconscious mind will remember it all for you; because you want each and every suggestion I’ve placed in your special subconscious mind, to work toward your own good; and to heal you, so you can have control back over your life with the control I’m giving especially to you; and you realize now, that subconscious suggestions work best when you can’t consciously remember them. You realise that you don’t need ‘two’ minds to remember the same thing. That way, you can forget so easily, what your subconscious mind will always remember, what ‘you’ will always remember forget. Isn’t that true?”

Everything he was telling her seemed to make an awful lot of sense, as she drifted here and there, trying to focus on his soft voice. It wasn’t easy. It kept floating in and out of her hearing, as if he was walking somewhere around the room, away and apart from her.

It was time to bring back the firm edge to his voice, he decided – so she would feel that his words were more like instructions or orders, as opposed to just being suggestions.

“When I count up to three and snap my fingers, Dianne, you’ll find yourself coming instantly awake; feeling better and more refreshed; and in control of me controlling you; more in tune with yourself and your sole purpose in life, than you’ve felt in a very long time.”

He noticed her head move fractionally; her lips, the faintest of a smile.

“One … two… three!” he said firmly then snapped his fingers and waited.

Diane heard the snap of his fingers, as if they were snapped from a gun in her ears. Her eyelids flew open like garage doors. She blinked a few times then looked at him, as he sat opposite her, at his desk. He wasn’t somewhere else, at all, she thought. He’d been there all the time.

“How do you feel?” he asked her.

Dianne looked down at herself then stretched. She felt great. She had to admit it. She did. This hypnosis was really something, she decided. She intended to recommend it to her close circle of new friends. In fact, she’d never felt better. She smiled widely at him, in amazement. The panic and nervousness had gone. It was gone.

“I can’t believe it!” she exclaimed, happily. “I feel absolutely great!”

He smiled inside and out, wondering why it had taken him so long to try hypnosis on a patient.

“Sleep time!” he said, firmly then watched and waited.

“Huh?” Diane said. “Sleep wha....ohhh.” Suddenly she seemed to be transported to a wonderful, relaxing place. God. Her body and mind soared, as she relaxed back into a deep state of calm.

He watched, as her head slowly sank to her chest and then smiled just as widely as Dianne had been smiling, only seconds before.

“In a moment, Dianne, I’m going to wake you up again and ask you if you remember being hypnotized with the use of your special trance key, that your subconscious mind will always hear, and that you will always forget! You will ‘not’ be able to remember being hypnotized a second time. In fact, you will think you’ve just woken up from your first trance, with a feeling of familiarity, but that’s all; feeling even more wonderful than you have ever felt before. One… two… three!”

He again snapped his fingers loudly then watched and waited.

Diane’s eyes snapped open, a second after she heard the loud snap of his fingers. She blinked a few times then stretched, smiling widely, as she did so. She had been thinking that she had been hearing him perfectly clearly before the snap.

“How do you feel, Dianne?” he asked.

“I feel great!” she exclaimed. “I feel absolutely terrific!”

Then, as she finished saying the words, Diane felt strangely, as if she’d only just said them, but she knew that couldn’t be. She had only just been woken up. Boy, she thought, staring at him, with a broad school-girl grin all over her face—this hypnosis really works. Then again, Diane had the feeling that she’d only just thought that too, only a few moments, ago. Then she shook her head, knowing she’d only just woken up.

“What can you remember from your first trance?” he asked her quietly, no firmness in his tone.

Diane thought about it for a few minutes, but, try as she might, she could only remember how great it had been; how relaxing and peaceful she had felt the entire time he his voice had been fading in and out, until it became very clear with his special instructions for you well-being. She’d had to concentrate really hard to hear him, sometimes. Then she didn’t.

“Your voice faded in and out a few times.” she said to him. “I had to really concentrate to hear what you were saying, sometimes. Then it was really clear, sometimes. Other than that, I can only remember feeling good; feeling great, actually. This hypnosis really works, doesn’t it?”

He grinned inside and out.

“Yes, Diane. It certainly does.”

He was as amazed as she was that it had worked at all, and so well.

“Sleep time!” he said firmly to her.

“What?” she began. Then, “Ohhh … ye … es.”

Then Diane felt her eyes close and her head fell softly forward, toward her chest. Her mind seemed to fall over a peaceful, friendly cliff of some sort, as she spiraled downward and downward, into the most profoundly relaxing feeling of calm and tranquility she had ever experienced in her life.

She seemed to be floating outside her own body. She felt so light; as light as the very air itself. She then wanted to cry out for joy, but she just couldn’t get her mouth to work. It didn’t matter. It was glorious; absolutely wonderful.

He watched then quickly leaned forward when he saw her lips move, but he couldn’t make out what she had quickly mumbled.

“I’m going to give you something to think about.” she heard his firm voice say, from somewhere, far off in the distance. “You feel so wonderful right now because I’ve helped you feel that way, and I know you feel very happy. Isn’t that true?”

Diane felt her head nod, again, all by itself, just like it had before, but she agreed, anyway. This man had definitely helped her. God knows someone had to have, or she would have gone around the bend and maybe snapped. Yes, she was certainly grateful to him. That was for sure.

There was something about his voice, too, she thought. It was a very protective sounding voice he seemed to have; not a loud or booming voice, but certainly a somewhat fatherly and protective one, she was convinced. She felt good about that, for some reason.

“Diane, I want you to accept the fact that you can never again feel as wonderful as you do, right now, unless I, alone, allow you to feel that way, by hypnotizing you. You know that you can’t do it for yourself. Isn’t that true?”

Diane thought about that for a few seconds. She guessed it was true. She’d never tried it or even thought of it in that way. She certainly was no hypnotist. The thought of never feeling as wonderful, as she did at that moment, brought a feeling of sadness to her. No, she didn’t want that. She wanted to feel like it whenever she wanted to, whenever he wanted her to. It was just too good. It felt too wonderful. Her head nodded again then she mentally agreed with her own gesture.

“Then it stands to reason, Dianne, that you will need me from now on, to allow you to experience the wonderful bliss, you feel right now, whenever I want you to, whenever you want to or need to; and unless I agree to allow you to feel like this again, then you never will, without my help. Isn’t that also true?”

Diane’s head nodded before she could even think about what he’d said. But she guessed she did need him in protective kind of way that she hadn’t thought about before. Then he was right, she finally decided in her thoughts—unless he agreed to it, she could never experience the bliss she was feeling right now. But why would he not agree?

“And unless you’re a ‘good’ girl,” he said then, “I can’t agree to allow you to feel like this again. That makes sense, doesn’t it; that you have to be a ‘good’ girl to get your ‘reward,’ of feeling like this again, whenever ‘I’ want you to, or whenever you are ‘allowed’ to or I ‘need’ you to? And then I can agree easily?”

Diane had to admit that what he said to her, did, in fact, make sense. She felt her head nod again. How could she expect to feel like this, if she wasn’t a good girl? She had always tried to be, all her life. And if she wanted him to agree to allow her to feel like this again, then she would have to be a good girl. Simple. But that wouldn’t be hard, she thought to herself, as another wave of deep relaxation washed over her mind and body. She liked being a good girl, anyway. Her mother had always told her that she had been the best of her three sisters. She had always been the best girl of them all when they had been growing up, sometimes.

“Then I would like you to seriously consider that you have agreed with and have accepted me to be, and I am, now, like your Master; that unless I agree to hypnotize you again, you will never again feel as wonderful as you do, right now.”

He watched and he waited, holding his breath. Her brow furrowed a little then eased. He slowly exhaled then continued flying blind, confident, but flying blind with each and every word that came out of his mouth.

“And that, as your master, now,” he said next, “you should seriously consider showing your Master the proper respect, by calling me, ‘Master or Sir,’ whenever you address me, in the future; whenever we are alone; just as naturally as can be; as if either were my name, because either ‘is’ is my name where you’re concerned, from now on, if you ever want to feel again, like you do right now.”

He decided on the spot to let her absorb that lot while he did, as well. Then, after a full minute, he continued.

“That would surely please me,” he said, “and I would most certainly agree then that you’d been a ‘very’ good girl, and certainly allow you to feel like you do, right now, whenever I wanted you to, or needed you to, or you wanted to or needed to and asked my permission. That makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Diane pondered over what he’d said. Of course she would be a good girl and she wanted to feel like this, again. Only ‘he’ could make it happen, so she guessed that did, in fact, make him her Master. And if that was his name for her to call him, or to call him ‘Sir,’ then it seemed only proper and right that she call him by his rightful names. And he was her Master now, she decided. It wouldn’t be right if she didn’t call him by either one of them. She ‘wanted’ to be a good girl. Again, her head slowly nodded.

“And you won’t even be aware that you are calling me by either of those special names, even when you say either of them, because either will seem so natural, simply because I really am your Master, now, in every sense of the word, simply because you need me to be so you can feel so good about yourself again. Your Master, aren’t I, Diane?”

He had said it more as a statement of fact, rather than a question asked of her, and, he’d done it deliberately, for long term effect.

Diane’s head nodded before she had even finished her thoughts. But, he was right, anyway. He ‘was’ her Master now because he was the only one who could help her and hypnotize her and make her feel like she did, right now. She had always wanted to feel like this, anyway. Anything was better than panic attacks and nervousness or fear. And if he ‘was’ her Master now, which he was, then it was only natural that she wouldn’t be consciously aware of saying either of his names or titles or whatever they were.

She had never wondered about anybody else’s name before when she spoke with them. Then Diane pondered over how interesting it felt to have a Master. She’d never had one before and she’d never met any woman that did have one.

“I want you to seriously consider now, Dianne,” he continued then, “that if I am your ‘Master,’ then ‘you’ must be my ‘slave,’ a ‘slave’ who ‘respects’ what her Master can do for her, whenever she needs looking after, because god knows, and you do, too, that you need looking after, sometimes. Everyone does at times, even you.”

He let her stew and chew on that lot for a full minute before proceeding. He did, too.

“That’s why it feels so nice, Dianne, right now, to ‘have’ a Master and to ‘be’ the ‘chosen’ slave of one; so he can look after you, whenever you need him to, by being a very ‘good’ slave girl. ‘That’ must make sense to you, Diane. Doesn’t it make good sense to you?”

Diane thought long and hard about everything he’d said—a slave girl, just like in the movies. But then again, he ‘was’ her master now. She knew that. She had willingly agreed to it. And if he ‘was’ her Master then she ‘must’ be his slave. He was right about that, too That ‘did’ make sense. And she ‘did’ need looking after; everyone did, at times, just like he’d said.

But, she was lucky, now. She had a Master who could make her feel like this, anytime he chose, or anytime she wanted to or needed to, as long as she asked, first, out of respect for his even taking the time to help her in her dire straights of panic attacks.

Her head nodded, slowly, in full agreement.

“That’s fine, Diane. You’re doing perfectly. You are a very good girl. A very good slave girl. And you deserve a reward for being so good. When I snap my fingers you will feel, instantly, a wave of pleasure begin, down between your thighs then wash quickly up over your breasts, ending in an instantaneous orgasm, because you certainly have been a good slave girl. Haven’t you?”

He let her mull that one over before proceeding on.

“And you do deserve a reward for being good, or maybe even one day, a promotion. You do, don’t you?”

He wondered instantly where the word, ‘promotion,’ had come from. He simply did not know, nor did he care, right at that moment. He watched her facial demeanor so closely, monitoring and scrutinizing every little movement.

An orgasm? Diane thought about that then smiled, inwardly. That would be nice. She hadn’t had one for a while. Could he really give me one, just by snapping his fingers? Well, he was her Master, now. So, she guessed—that means, he could do anything he ‘wanted’ to her. He could make her ‘feel’ however he ‘wanted’ to make her feel. Look at how wonderful he was ‘making’ her feel right now.

He smiled when he say her lips curl into the slightest smile. He snapped his fingers and watched and waited. He saw her take a deep breath, then sigh. Then her breathing became raggard and deeper as if she was making love and getting closer to her thresh-hold with each breath she took. She began to make little soft moans with her voice and her hands began pressing between her thighs in time with her breathing.

As soon as she heard his fingers snap it seemed as if someone had began touching her between the legs. The feelings of sheer raw pleasure began to wash up and fan upward over her belly and breasts faster than she could count or think. Her mind began to race in the pleasure she was feeling in the moments of each one’s arrival between her legs and ending up at her nipples which were now torching and aching for a release of some kind.

Then suddenly, Diane’s mind and body flamed from head to toe as her hypnotic orgasm seared a path up and down her spine for several seconds before finally burning out and leaving her breathless. God, she thought, when it had passed completely. God!

He couldn’t be more pleased. He had watched a hypnotic-induced orgasm and it looked as if she really felt it and experienced it on every level in her mind and body. She had shook visibly as she had peaked in her pleasure, her head rolling from side to side as she’d moaned her rapture silently and softly. Her back had hunched and arched and her hands had pressed and rubbed furiously with the capping of her rapture.

“That’s fine, Diane. You’re doing perfectly. And from now on that will be your reward every time for being a good slave girl. In a moment I’m going to wake you up and you will remember nothing of your trance or what has taken place.”

Again, he let her ingest the words and spaces he had just finish. Finally, he head movement agreed.

“Good girl. But you will remember who I am at all times in your mind as your master and you will address me naturally as such when we speak and be obedient and loyal. Do you agree?”

Her head did so. He pressed on toward the finishing post.

“So loyal, in fact, Dianne, that you will select only the girls or women you think you would like and, who would make good slave-girls; to bring to me for their training, just like you’ve now finished and passed with flying colours, which make me feel so proud of you that my heart feels like bursting.”

He allowed her to take that where he hoped she would. She did and smiled, gently.

“You will present them to me with whatever their perceived problem is after you’ve influenced them that I can help them, exactly like I helped you. Agree?”

She did, quickly, and he smiled.

“Then, if I wish you to, you will remain and help and watch as I train them, so they can be as good as you. That makes sense, doesn’t it; that you be here and supervise their training, since you will be their leader, as the head slave-girl. Doesn’t it sound exciting and rewarding for you and them?”

Diane felt wonderful. So wonderful she felt like crying. Her master had given her the most wonderfully satisfying orgasm and had made her feel so wonderful. And now her was making her head slave-girl while he trained those she brought to him. It was the least she could do. Besides, the thought of having her own girls felt somehow really good to her as her head nodded in agreement completely with everything he had said.

Her head nodded and she helped it.

“Very good, Diane. And because you are such a good slave-girl I will remove forever any more panic attacks from your mind and body. You simply will not have them as long as you allow me to be your master and remain my faithful, obedient and loyal slave-girl. Do you understand?”

Diane understood completely?” She never wanted those panic attacks to ever come back. What a good idea it had been to come to a therapist after all. What had she been so concerned about in coming in the first place. She would always be loyal to him and very obedient to be a good girl so he could give her more of what she’d already experienced. A warm feeling rushed over her body at the thought of her past orgasm

She nodded her head.

“One...two...three.” and he snapped his fingers. Watching her eyelids fly open and blink rapidly. Then she smiled as her eyes met his.

“How do you feel?” he smiled warmly at her.

Diane smiled. “Great master!” she answered immediately. “I’ve never felt better in my life!”

For only a second Diane thought about his name. ‘Master.’ Strange name, she wondered, but it sounded natural to her ears and seemed to just roll off her tongue. Besides, the way she was feeling he had made her feel, so maybe he was her master anyway, she figured.

He decided to test her before dismissing her for the day.

“Diane.” he began, watching her eyes glue themselves to his lips. “You realize now that I am your master and you are slave, and that you’ll do everything and anything I tell you to and be happy in the doing. Don’t you?”

He watched her smile fade and her eyes widen as she took in her words.

Diane heard everything he’d said, but for some reason she wasn’t offended or upset. Shaken she should be, but for some reason she wasn’t.

For some reason she knew he was right. She had discovered, albeit through the medium of therapeutic discovery that she was his slave, and he was her master.

She didn’t know why it all sounded so natural and right to her, but it did. And she knew she would do anything he asked her to do. Anything at all. That’s what good slave-girls did-anything they were told, and, they were happy when they did it, otherwise they wouldn’t be very good slave-girls and they wouldn’t have a master for very long.

“Yes, Master.” she answered him finally.

He slowly let out the breath he’d been holding, feeling it leave silently thorough his teeth as he watched Diane, his first slave-girl sit and gaze passively at him from across the desk.

His new direction. He’d found it. And there would be many more like Diane. She was only the first.

“You may leave now Diane.” he said to her softly with a smile. “I will expect a call from you in the very near future when you have selected our next new slave girl for training. Do you understand?”

“Yes master.” Diane heard herself say, thinking of just the right girl for their next slave-training. “I understand. I’ll call you sooner than you think.”

And then she smiled a sly grin as she stood up, knowing how pleased her Master would be with her when she put her plans into action.

Her best special friends didn’t have seem to have any other goal than telling each other about their daily problems over a morning coffee and then practicing weird, chanting witches spells once a week, that never seemed to work, anyway.

She was only a new initiate of six weeks in the coven inner circle, but she was still waiting for proof of at least one working.

‘I’ll be in touch, soon, Master,’ she said, still grinning cheekily.

He showed her out the door then returned to his desk. Sitting back down he leaned back comfortably in his chair. Today Diane, he thought, as his smile widened—tomorrow and army of slave girls,

He sighed, reflecting upon his last thought phrase: ‘An army?’

Now there’s a hypnotic challenge if ever I’ve had one, he thought. Still, someone had to be the master of all of the unhappy, unfulfilled women that Dianne, his new recruiter, might someday recruit for him, if he was lucky. Their master may as well be him.

He then grinned excitedly at the words, ‘recruiter,’ and ‘recruit.’

‘An army of slave women soldiers!’ He said aloud to the ceiling, up at which he now stared, hard.

Then he laughed aloud, adding, ‘And an army of ‘recruiters’ to recruit them for me to train, in the first place!’

And then his laughter upward toward the ceiling really began, but now toned with all his seriousness, simply because he now knew there really was no challenge, like no challenge.

Then suddenly, his laughter upward stopped dead in his throat, as another thought settled into his racing, steel-trap mind: a ‘uniform’ for his army of future hypno soldiers.’

No, he then concluded, still mentally challenged, his mind still racing—a uniform just wouldn’t work. He decided that they would have to have some instantaneous way of recognising one another as a hypno soldier while out in the field, during their various tours of duty.

And then, like a thunderclap sounding in his head from out of his right-brain minefield, the answer came to him, and, he got it. He nearly feel out of his chair, amazed.

A brand! And a different one for each rank and file. He leaned backward well into his chair and gazed once more at his favourite spot on the ceiling.

‘Yes!’ he said firmly to his spot on the ceiling that had borne his previous torrent of laughter. ‘Body’ brands for the various rank and file members of his future hypno army.

The End or the beginning of hypno soldiers.’