The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

When a new spa and health club opened in the neighborhood, I decided to check it out. I thought the building too small to house a gym, but who can tell?

One evening I entered the lobby of the Club. I was greeted by a petite young woman, who introduced herself as Yvette, one of the hostesses. She was small and slender, with a heart shaped face framed by soft curly light brown hair, and she had large dark brown eyes. I thought she was strangely dressed for a gym; she wore a loose , dark skirt, and an ivory colored silk blouse with long sleeves, buttoned all the way up to a high collar which enclosed her long slender neck. Around her neck she wore a heavy dull gold chain, suspending a large round pendant, also gold, with the design of a pyramid on the side I could see.

At my expression of interest, Yvette offered to show me around. She showed me tiny exercise rooms with just one piece of equipment per room, and miniature massage rooms, with just bearly enough space for a massage table and a small locker. As I looked around with an expression of puzzlement giving way to one of amused speculation (...ah! This was THAT kind of Health Club...), she watched me with a strange, knowing smile.

When I turned to leave the massage chamber, Yvette was standing in the doorway. The light gleamed off her medallion, and I saw that the design was different: a spiral, instead of the depiction of a pyramid. I felt myself bending closer to see it better.

“What an interesting medallion.”

“Careful,” she warned. “If you look too closely, it will make you dizzy.”

I found that I had the medallion in my hand. I turned it over: the pyramid was on one side, the spiral on the other. When I heard Yvette’s coy warning, of course I had to look. A touch of vertigo washed over me. I blinked and dropped the medallion.

“Wow! It does do that! But it was a nice dizziness...” Now why did I say that? But as I said it, I realized it was true!

“You liked it.” The way she said it was not a question. “Well then...” She stepped in to the room and closed the door behind her. “Why don’t you sit up here?” she said, patting the massage table.

I sat near one end of the table and leaned back against the wall. Yvette sat crosslegged next to, and facing, me. Then she held her medallion up so that it caught the light, and tilted it so that the gleams of light were sent around the spiral.

“Focus on the light,” she suggested, “and let your eyes follow it around the spiral and in towards the center...around and in... drawing your eyes around and in...”

The next thing I knew, she was lowering the medallion back down to her bosom...her bare bosom! In the interval, somehow her clothes had disappeared, exposing her slim figure, and a pair of delightfully shaped breasts. Unsurprised, I noted that I was naked, too. She said nothing, yet some unspoken call led me to tear my eyes away from that golden, spiral decorated disk, nestled between her perfect breasts, and look up at her face. Her eyes caught mine, and held my attention like a dark velvet trap.

Yvette smiled that small, quiet, knowing smile that had been bedeviling me since she started, and reached out and took my hands. She guided them to her hips, and then gently moved them up her flanks to her breasts. Then she ran her fingertips back along my arms to my shoulders, and hence to the back of my neck, and pulled me to her. My mind melted in her dark eyes as my body melted into hers.

When I returned to my self, I was once again fully clothed, standing before the reception desk in the lobby. Yvette was standing to one side, and an older woman in a conservative business suit was handing me a piece of paper, with a handshake. “Thank you, Mr. G.... I’m sure you will enjoy your membership in our health club.” Huh?

Yvette took my arm, and escorted me to the door. “Y’all come back and see me soon,” she drawled languidly.

“Oh...ah...sure!” I walked out in a daze. It was hours before I had recovered my wits enough to even look at the paper I’d been given. It proved to be a fairly standard membership contract in a health club affiliated with their spa. I noted with real interest that I had contracted to retain Yvette as my “personal trainer,” at a hefty fee. Hmm.

A few days later, my curiousity (and libido) got the advantage over my better judgement, and I returned to the Club. After all, I’d already paid that membership fee and retainer, hadn’t I? Ought to try and get my money’s worth. I was kidding myself, and I knew it; the contract specified a substantial “use fee” for each visit.

Yvette was waiting for me in the lobby. How did she know...? She escorted me back to the massage room, followed me in, closed the door behind her, and leaned against it. When I turned to face her, she looked me slightly askance, and smiled that maddening, Mona Lisa smile of hers.

Instead of the slightly indignant demand to know what was going on, which I had planned, I found my self raving enthusiastically about the experience. “What did you do to me last time? It was terrific! I’ve never felt anything quite like that before! That medallion...”

“Oh that,” she replied with a slight toss of her head. “I can do that with my eyes alone.”

“You can?” I said, unconsciously rising to the bait. “I’d like you to show me.”

“Then take off your clothes,” she murmured, turning to face me squarely, and transfixing me with her large, dark eyes. “Sit up on the massage table, crosslegged.”

There followed another of those blank intervals. Then I was seated, naked on the table, as she had told me to, looking at her. She had removed her skirt and blouse, leaving a black silk and lace bustier and sheer black stockings. As I watched, fascinated, she slipped out of these, and sat facing me on the table, our knees just touching.

“Now, look into my eyes,” she said, and smiled. We sat facing each other for several minutes. Neither of us spoke or moved. Finally, Yvette asked softly, “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” I mumbled. “A little light-headed...”

Her smile became subtly more knowing, triumphant. She drew herself up, and continued to gaze, even more intently, into my eyes. I felt myself growing dizzy, my vision going out of focus. She reached out, as she had done the first time, and took my hands. Slowly she brought them back to her legs, and placed them palms down on her thighs. Then she guided them up to her hips, and from there up to her breasts again. I knew what was coming, but I couldn’t fight it. Hell, I didn’t want to fight it! I was already leaning towards her as her fingers lightly traced their way up my arms and across my shoulders. When she pressed lightly on the back of my neck, I let my body fall willingly into her embrace, as my mind fell willingly into her eyes.

But this time not into oblivion...exactly. Oh, I can’t remember a single thing about what happened physically, but I have the memory of being surrounded, caressed by sweetness, softness, warm smoothness. I felt enveloped, enraptured. And, of course, completely enthralled.

I was hooked! I came back to see her again and again, I don’t know how many times. I even brought her presents. Each time, Yvette put me under her spell, using either her eyes or that medallion (just one of an extensive collection of charms she had, I observed). I would lose myself as she drew me to her, or came to me, and the next thing I would know, I was walking out the door, dazed, but with a big, silly smile on my face. To quote the sailor coming back on board after a liberty, “I MUST have had a good time. I don’t remember a THING!”

Now you may wonder how I escaped such a pleasant durance, or if I am still enslaved by the elfin Yvette. Sadly, I was “lucky.” Lucky to get out of that velvet dungeon with my mind and soul reasonably intact. One day, when I went to the spa, Yvette was not there. No one could, or would, say where she had gone; back to Fairyland, for all anyone would, or could, tell. They assigned me another “personal trainer,” a pleasantly buxom blonde, but the magic was gone. Yet sometimes, on a warm Spring night, when the air is swimming with the scent of honeysuckle and wild roses, I can close my eyes and see her delicate features, and her eyes, like whirlpools of midnight starry skies. Then I know that if she walked in my door right now, I, older but no wiser, would let her lead me away again, on a leash made of moonlight and cobwebs, for just one glance of Yvette’s eyes.