The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Devlin led Emily and the group of students through the hotel lobby and towards the elevators. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said causally pushing the UP button, “but I couldn’t rent a classroom. The hotel is hosting a trade convention, or something. All the small conference rooms are booked. We’ll do the special class out of my suite?”

The ends of Emily’s mouth dipped downward. “No bedrooms, mister.”

“What? No,” Devlin replied, annoyed. “We’ll use the suite’s seating area. Its the only space I got.”

Emily said nothing, but adopted a disapproving glower.

“You want the hundred grand?” Devlin asked her pointedly. “Then my sitting area will have to do.”

The ride up on the elevator was quiet. Emily found herself studying the other students. They were all young and very attractive. The men were lean, with tapered bodies, extremely thin waists, and well-muscled arms. The ladies were athletic and toned, and because three of them were wearing leggings, Emily could see they had well-pronounced bottoms and shapely legs. Each girl was very pretty, and it was hard to judge which was the most attractive.

None of the students looked at her; in fact, they all stared straight ahead, as if lost in thought. The only sound was the gentle whirring of the elevator motors above.

Devlin occupied the master suite on the top floor. “This was all they had when I booked,” he shrugged, unlocking the door for everyone.

Emily stepped into the luxurious space, impressed by the decadence. The room before her was a yawning seating area, with custom, tufted sofas curving about in a wide circle. A rich, thick Persian carpet was atop the polished hardwood floors. A hearth, several colonial bureaus, and still life paintings were placed on the marble-colored walls. The ceiling was domed, with a small crystal chandelier twinkling above. Emily could also see doors leading to other rooms of the suite.

There was a small table next to the front door; Emily set her laptop briefcase atop it.

At the same time, Devlin sauntered into the room, carelessly tossing his jacket on a sofa. “This’ll do, right?” he gestured. “Its not exactly a classroom, but we can work here, I figure.”

Emily took control. “Quite right,” she snapped. She moved to the center of the seating area. “Very well, then,” she said, folding her hands. “Everyone gather around?”

As her students shuffled forward to join her, Emily saw all the telltale signs of easy hypnotic subjects: Glazed expressions, submissive postures, hesitant body language. It was tempting to mesmerize them all and falsely convince them that she’d given them a dynamo lesson. And collect her hundred grand. And then maybe take two of the boys back to her hotel room.

But, no. Oh, Emily could mass-hypnotize five of these slackers, easily. Maybe even eight. But ten? That was probably pushing her luck.

Bother. She’d have to improvise all three hours of this silly class. And, of course, she’d prepared exactly nothing.

“Alright,” the brown-haired instructor sighed. “Let’s, uh, let’s see your inductions then.”

The slack-jawed students paired off. Everyone sat on the couches. Those playing hypnotist pulled out their scripts and robotically recited every word on the page. This had absolutely no effect.

Emily noted that Devlin had his script memorized, which was the mark of a true professional. But he was no more successful than anyone else.

“I’ve got to be doing something wrong,” the young man fumed when his partner opened her eyes, completely unhypnotized.

Emily nodded. “You haven’t achieved—“

“Critical bypass, I know,” Devlin scowled, slouching on the couch.

The hypnosis instructor stole a glance at her watch. Only forty-five minutes had passed? Ugh!

The other students, discouragement on their faces, turned towards her. “Well?” Devlin said impatiently. “What are we doing wrong?”

With some alarm, Emily realized that she wasn’t just babysitting an extra practice session. These students expected—no, demanded extra tutoring. She couldn’t just run out the clock.

“Very well,” the British instructor said, moving to stand before the seated African-American. “I’ll demonstrate again, then we’ll talk our way through it. Devlin, look at me, please.”

Emily worked her magic on the young man, and his body went limp and into a trance almost immediately. It was almost as if Devlin was faking it. He was almost too easy to hypnotize.

Briefly, the beautiful hypnotist considered having a little fun and humiliating Devlin before his peers… but decided against it. After all, why bite the hand that was about to pay her a hundred thousand dollars?

So instead, Emily commanded, “Now, Devlin, when I click my fingers, you will awaken. You will be fully confident that you can hypnotize anyone you want using Dr. Chambers’ induction. Now only that, you’ll be convinced I am the greatest teacher of all time!” She grinned and winked at the students. They were not at all amused by her little joke.

So Emily simply snapped her fingers. Devlin opened his eyes, sitting up immediately. Emily had never seen anyone wake from hypnosis so quickly.

“Yeah, Emily, what you’re doing is what I’m doing,” the young man insisted. “I don’t think this Dr. Chambers induction thing works.”

“It works perfectly,” replied Emily smoothly. Devlin’s irritation was starting to make her nervous. “I hypnotized you with it, didn’t I?”

Devlin smoothly stood. “Yeah, I mean… well, aren’t there other inductions?”

“There are,” admitted the instructor. “AHF likes the Chambers induction because its easy to learn and master.”

“But there are other inductions we could be using,” Devlin pointed out. “I read about some on the Internet. What about conversational hypnosis?”

Emily felt a pang of exasperation. Sometimes students took the subject matter into their own hands, seizing on whatever they discovered on their own, as if there was no difference between beginner materials, expert materials, and ridiculous materials out there. There was a lot in that third category.

“Oh, bollocks,” she muttered, her professional mask slipping for a moment. “Conversational hypnosis is absolute rubbish. And even if it worked, its for experienced masters only. You really shouldn’t give it another thought.”

“Conversational…?” a young woman asked, curiosity dancing in her eyes. “What’s conversational hypnosis?”

“Its actually pretty cool,” Devlin said. “Because our subconscious minds automatically react to certain words like relax and focus and exhale, the theory is that a skilled hypnotist can embed these signals into conversation. If I say relax, and I say it in a certain, soothing tone, your body will relax, just slightly. If I say focus, your mind does focus, just a little. And if I say exhale, well… see? Your body naturally exhales. By using conversation that embeds this language, I can offer suggestions.”

“You can hypnotize people, just by talking in conversation?” a young man asked, surprised.

“I can’t, but others can,” Devlin replied easily. He began pacing the room, very slowly. “The human voice can be very tranquilizing, especially if I relax my tone, focus my concentration, exhale in a rhythmic pattern. Relax, focus, exhale.”

“Yes, facina—“ Emily started to say.

“Just a moment,” interrupted Devlin. “Sorry, but I haven’t made my point yet. See, if I was an expert, I could sprinkle those magic words into my conversation, and if I did if just right, you might relax without realizing you are relaxing, you would focus all on your own, and of course you will exhale. But you’ll focus on your exhaling. You’ll exhale into the relaxation. You’ll relax deeper into focus. Each time I repeat the words, you’ll relax, you’ll focus, you’ll exhale. You’ll relax. You’ll relax…”

Devlin’s voice floated in the air, somehow becoming continuous and soothing. Emily, momentarily distracted, caught herself thinking about her next spa booking. She absently pictured herself in the mudbath, relaxing, focusing, exhaling. Just as Devlin was describing.

The young man’s voice flowed on. Several times he seemed to be reaching his point, only to remember something else and keep talking. And his voice was so pleasant.

“You see Tamika here?” Devlin murmured, indicating one of the young women. “You see? She is listening to me, and as she has been, she’s been relaxing, she’s been focusing, she’s been exhaling. Relax, focus, exhale. You see? Relax, focus, exhale.”

The lovely Tamika sat perfectly still. Her arms hung limply at her sides and her face was drawn and expressionless. Her eyelids were heavy, and they moved slowly when she blinked.

Surprised, Emily realized… Tamika was slipping into a trance!

As the brown-haired woman watched the hypnosis unfolding before her, Devlin’s voice rippled on. “Yes, its actually an amazing thing, right? That anyone could be hypnotized by participating in a conversation? But it happens every day. Whenever you are listening to an excellent speaker, your mind relaxes. You focus. You exhale. Relax / Focus / Exhale. It happens all the time. You are drawn in. You allow yourself to become hypnotized.”

Devlin was now standing next to the dazzled Tamika, who looked like she was ready to topple over into slumber. With a gentle smile, Devlin laid a hand on her shoulder, then said, “Tam …sleep!” He snapped his fingers.

The girl’s eyes closed. She sighed once, and then her head and shoulders drooped downwards. She was out.

“Yes…” Devlin smiled. He snapped his fingers before another young woman, a beautiful Asian. “Sleep!”

The girl dropped into a trance immediately.

“Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!” the young African-American man commanded, walking about the circle, snapping his fingers before his classmates’ numb faces. One-by-one, they tumbled into a hypnotic sleep, puppets in his control.

Emily watched all of this with a detached air. She had failed to notice how her own body had become lethargic. She gazed ahead absently, ignoring Devlin when he passed behind her. Her own thoughts felt sluggish, the very way you feel when you are lying in bed but unwilling to get up and let go of that sleepy feeling just yet. She felt good.

Devlin put down the last student, a handsome stick figure twenty-something fellow, who collapsed onto the couch when put into sleep. Satisfied, the African-American playboy straightened, then move to stand directly before the AHF instructor.

“Emily, look at me,” he commanded.

Obediently, Emily looked up into his soft, brown eyes. Devlin’s gaze seemed to be reaching for her, spinning and swallowing her mind whole.

In that last moment before she surrendered, Emily realized: Devlin was no beginner hypnotist. No, this boy was a master. An expert who put all of her own peers and teachers to shame. Though the power of his voice alone, the young man had somehow breached all of her mental defenses and seduced her thoughts. In a moment, she’d be his.

“Sleep,” Devlin whispered, snapping his fingers directly before the brown-haired woman’s eyes.

Emily felt her eyes close; it felt wonderful. The confused but contented thoughts in her mind evaporated, and she knew nothing more.

A loud clicking sound startled Emily. She blinked. Her thoughts, momentarily dormant, raced back to her.

What was going on?

Devlin, standing directly before Emily, was smiling at her with a kindly look on his face. He snapped once more, then dropped his hand.

“How do you feel?” he asked amiably.

Emily rubbed her eyes with one hand, considering the question. How did she feel?

“Fine,” she replied truthfully. “Just fine. Yes.”

Around her, the students were still sitting on the couches. They blinked and looked about in surprise. If Emily didn’t know better, she’d think they just woke up from being hypnotized.

But no-one here had been tranced. No. No, all that had happened…

Emily frowned, momentarily puzzled at why the last few minutes felt a little hazy.

Ah! She remembered now. Yes, the students had practiced their hypnotic inductions, and they were all terrible. Then she’d hypnotized Devlin as a demonstration. That’s what had happened. That’s all that had happened.

“What was I saying?” the instructor asked absently.

“You were talking about the class,” Devlin reminded her. “How we need to practice our technique.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” said Emily, snapping back into bossy teacher mode. “Practice, as you know, makes perfect. All hypnotists should strive for perfection.” The students wordlessly nodded.

“Except this isn’t a class on hypnotism,” Devlin said, staring into Emily’s eyes. “It’s a class on giving oral sex.”

He snapped his fingers again, right before Emily’s face.

For a heartbeat, Emily’s mind went blank.

“Oral sex, quite right,” she stated, her conviction firm. “Practice is absolutely required for proper oral sex. I know we demonstrated this in class, but I can’t stress enough: always practice! You all remember the technique?”

“Perhaps they don’t,” Devlin suggested.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Very well,” she huffed, moving to an empty spot on the couches, “but this is the last time.” She gestured for Devlin to approach.

Before the young man could sit, however, Emily seized his belt and began to open his jeans. “As we discussed in class,” she lectured, “really well-done oral sex requires what? A firm but gentle grip, but also plenty of lubricant. Otherwise, its not really sexual, is it?”

Devlin looked slightly embarrassed as the brown-haired instructor shoved his jeans and underwear down around his thighs. Emily’s hands took his shoulders and firmly guided him to sit on the couch.

“There,” Emily said with satisfaction, kneeling before the young man. “See what a beautiful cock our friend Devlin has? Yes, brilliant.” She flashed an annoyed look at her students. “Are you just going to gawk at me, or are you going to pair off and follow along?”

Devlin, already having trouble concentrating as Emily massaged his penis, cried out, “You all want to practice!” He snapped his fingers over his head; the sound was like a crack of thunder.

Immediately, the other students grouped into twos. The men all lost their pants in seconds flat. Two women had no choice but to work together, but they somehow managed to improvise.

“Very good,” Emily said approvingly. “Every lady is holding a cock? Well done. Now, as we discussed in class, you grip the shaft down by the base. Use your dominant hand, of course. The other hand cups the testicles, very lightly. Now, I summon loads of spit, positively loads, because that’s the lubricant. Then we begin…”

Emily placed her lips on Devlin’s tip, careful to remain delicate and poised. Already the young man was dribbling, and she could taste his saltiness.

“You think that my cum tastes delicious,” Devlin gasped, and snapped his fingers right by her ear.

Emily was momentarily confused… until she realized Devlin’s taste was delicious! His flavor was as if someone had distilled all the best parts from Christmas dinner, chocolate pudding, and her favorite beer, and mixed it into one superflavor! In surprise, Emily moaned.

She pushed forward, her lips greedily washing over Devlin’s spear. He was so erect, it was like making oral love to polished stone. Warm, delicious-tasting polished stone. Emily was surprised to discover that she was aroused. She slurped harder.

The instructor’s thoughts were jumbled, but she did not notice. All of this seemed perfectly natural to her. She was a professional blow job instructor, after all. Students from around the world came to her to learn how she worked her sexual magic.

Around her, Emily could hear the other male students (and the one female paired off with another girl) mumbling in delight as their partners worked on them. She felt a twinge of pride. She’d taught them all well.

Emily was plunging bigger and bigger lengths of Devlin into her dripping mouth now. Her head bobbed up and down like a cork floating in a stormy ocean. Devlin was close, she could feel it. He was close…

“Orgy!” shouted Devlin. “Orgy, orgy, now!”

Emily’s mind went blank. She felt raw sexual lust claim her, blotting out her mind. Suddenly, she was an animal woman, determined to claim Devlin as her prize. Rising to her feet, she seized the boy’s shirt and yanked it off over his head. The young man couldn’t resist her.

All about the room, the students were throwing off their clothes, attacking one another with reckless abandon. Erect dicks locked in on wet vaginas. Nude stomachs and breasts and arms and rears all embraced one another. Everyone started off with their original partners, but soon people traded off. Men fucked women. Women ate other women. Men sucked other men. People combined into ungodly combinations of three, four, even five partnered-positions. Had the original authors of the Kama Sutra been present, they would have been shamed into all the sex variations they’d never imagined.

Only Emily and Devlin remained connected to one another. Once she was naked, Emily made sure Devlin’s cock was for her and her alone. She straddled him as he sat on the couch, riding his pole and flapping her breasts before his grateful lips. He fucked like a wild horse; it was hard for her to hang on.

But her climax was mind-blowing. Emily thought she’d never been shagged so well.

Ever.

The orgy raged on and on, like a furious battle where there are no causalities, and the warriors can continuously leap back into the fray. At least, that’s how it seemed to the entranced participants. Everyone under Devlin’s spell were convinced that they had the longevity of young porn stars, and with bodies that were twice as sexy. Everyone copulated until they were left scattered about the Persian rug, limp and gasping for breath.

Emily found herself snuggled up against Devlin, his strong arms wrapped about her in a warm hug. He pulled her close and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

But Emily was not a cuddle girl. She pushed against her student.

“Hey,” Devlin growled. “Look at me.”

Emily met his eyes.

“You are in love with me,” Devlin told her, snapping his fingers once.

The squeamishness evaporated from Emily’s heart. Why… she loved Devlin! He was just wonderful! Dazzled, the instructor allowed her student to pull her closer, then roll her body to face away. The two spooned.

It felt so right.

Emily sighed happily, nestling her butt against Devlin’s crotch. She could feel his sticky penis, half-erect, poking at her. She liked that feeling.

“You happy, baby?” Devlin murmured.

“Oh, so happy,” the brown-haired woman promised him.

“Heh,” Devlin grunted with approval, and kissed the back of her head. Emily giggled.

The artificial couple fell into a silence. Somewhere on the floor, one of the other students had passed about and was snoring softly.

“She’ll wake up feeling so well-rested,” chuckled Devlin, indicating the snoring woman.. “They say the two best things to help your sleep are getting hypnotized and getting laid. She got huge helpings of both.”

“Hypnotized?” Emily said puzzled.

Devlin couldn’t help a yawn. “Yeah. Hypnotized. You’re actually a hypnosis instructor, Emily. But you don’t remember that right now. Critical bypass.”

Emily frowned. Devlin’s words made no sense.

“I saw your hypnosis videos online,” Devlin said lazily. “Right away, I knew I had to have you. But I couldn’t resist picking up a few hotties along the way to get to you. Don’t worry, none of these motherfuckers will remember any of this in the morning.” His hand lazily caressed Emily’s breasts. “You won’t, either.”

“You’re screwing them over,” Emily said, realizing that much.

“Yeah, but I’m giving them great orgasms in exchange,” Devlin pointed out.

Not knowing why she spoke these words, Emily said, “I’m screwing them over too.”

There was a pause. Devlin sat up, breaking the spoon. “What do you mean?” he said, curious but suspicious.

Emily felt confused. What did she mean? Where did that naughty little thought come from?

Devlin frowned. He snapped his fingers. “Sleep…” he ordered.

Emily’s eyes closed as she went limp against the rug. She dropped into the deepest of trances.

“Now,” Devlin’s voice said in her mind, “you will easily tell me what you meant when you said, ‘I’m screwing them over too.’ Tell me now.”

Removed from her control, Emily’s lips began speaking. Her mouth spoke of the great scam of AHF, of how its only purpose was to bamboozle its students, and their hypnosis education be damned. She also spoke of her own plans to fatten her own wallet, further rooking her own students with extra charges and fees. She was proud of the grift.

Devlin listened, his face growing darker with each word she spoke.

When Emily had finished, her hypnotist looked positively aghast. “I think,” he told the entranced British woman, “that we have to give you some additional suggestions…”