tagMind ControlMy Sharona

My Sharona


From the moment he saw her, Devon knew she was perfect. He spotted her deep in the stacks of the cavernous library, off in a hidden nook where she must have felt sure she was guaranteed privacy. She was reading a book--the title didn't matter, he was caught up in the look of rapt attention she gave the work. He could tell just by looking that she was utterly lost in the world the author created, imaginative and focused and drinking in the words on the page. He felt himself grow hard when he thought about the way she would soon be drinking in other words.

She would be a quick conquest, he could tell, but a sweet one. All his instincts told him that she was a natural hypnotic subject, that she would melt under his spell, give him access to her mind and her body. She would surrender to him, the same sweet, perfect moment of surrender that he had experienced so many times.

It was so lovely, that one moment where he could actually feel a woman's will breaking to his own. That faint, dying gleam of light in their eyes when he personally extinguished their will to resist always got to him in a way no other erotic pleasure could. It was a shame that he couldn't relive it over and over and over again, but there really wasn't any way to put the genie back in the bottle. He could restore their conscious mind, perhaps even leave them with the delusion that they could resist his power, but once he'd truly made her submit, there was just no erasing the imprint on their subconscious mind. The game wasn't fun anymore.

He looked at the perfect, perfect girl in the overstuffed chair. She was a slim black girl, probably about twenty, wearing glasses over her big brown eyes, with long hair pulled back into a tight bun. He wondered what he would do with her afterwards. She was too skinny to be a porn star, with slightly crooked teeth and no tits to speak of...perhaps he could sell her off. He knew people who would want a girl who did anything they were told, and who wouldn't ask any questions about how Devon had made her like that.

They were unscrupulous, violent men, but they paid good money. The porn stars and exotic dancers made a better long-term investment, as they stayed gainfully employed and could simply send him a portion of their income, but the ready cash that came from slavers and pimps was nice, too. In any event, he wasn't doing it for the money. The first girl he'd taken, he just left sitting in her apartment without a backward glance. Once they stopped being people and started being slaves, Devon stopped caring what happened to them. Only the process aroused him. He decided to start with the new girl right away.

He walked past her, then stopped suddenly as if startled. "Did...did you see that?" he asked the girl.

She looked up from her book. Her eyes had a slightly glassy look from the sudden forced departure from the world of her imagination, and Devon already felt his arousal stir, but he controlled it. There would be time for that later. "I'm sorry," she said, "see what?"

He looked around again. "The lights," he said, in a concerned tone. "I thought I saw them flicker a bit. I hope we don't get a power loss." He let a little nervousness show in his tone, a little vulnerability. Women liked that.

She looked at the lamp next to her. "I didn't notice anything," she said tentatively. He could tell from her voice that she didn't want to contradict him, even though she was probably more certain than she made out. Her mind was going to melt like butter once he got inside it, he thought.

"Could you..." He used his best 'I-know-this-sounds-silly' tone. "Could you watch the light with me for a moment, just to be sure?"

She smiled generously. "Of course," she said, turning her eyes towards the lamp again. This time, she held her gaze there.

"Thank you," he said. "I just...silly, I know, but I don't like dark places. I'm sorry, I'm Devon, and you are...?"

"Sharona," she said, blinking a little at the bright light.

Sharona, he thought. Just perfect. 'My Sharona', like the song. She soon would be. "Thank you, Sharona." He didn't bring up the song. She might have been teased about it, and he didn't want to trigger any bad reactions at this stage. "It's very nice of you to help me like this, Sharona. I know that light must be very bright, and you'd really like to close your eyes, but you're being very helpful. You're doing a wonderful thing, and you can feel very proud of yourself as you look at the light."

Sharona looked slightly flustered. "Well, I..."

"Shh, no, really. You don't need to say anything. You can just listen to me praising you, and keep looking at the light. I know it is very bright, Sharona, and your eyes are probably watering from the effort of keeping them open against that strong, overwhelming desire to close them, but you know that you're being such a good person by keeping them open for me, and I'm so happy with you for fighting so hard to keep those eyes open, so you're just going to keep them open a little bit longer, aren't you, Sharona?"

She looked at the light, now just a little confused. "I...yes, but..."

"That's wonderful, Sharona, that's just wonderful. You're doing so well, keeping those heavy eyes open, listening to me as I tell you how wonderful you are, what a good job you're doing, what a good person you are. It makes it easy to keep your eyes from slamming shut when you listen to me tell you how well you're doing, makes it easy to fight the impulse to just close your eyes and sit back in the warm darkness. You can just keep fighting the urge to close your eyes and listen to my voice, it's helping you stay focused, isn't it, Sharona?"

"...yes..." Oh, god, she was already starting to go under. She was totally focused on the light, and his voice. This was almost too easy. But the first part was always the easiest, getting them to go into trance only took a little work. He'd have a much more enjoyable time breaking down her barriers, conditioning her to obey, taking her mind apart piece by piece to find out what would turn her into a pliant, willing, obedient sex slave, and then reducing her will to nothing. He could tell from her eyes that even that wouldn't take long, though. Almost a shame.

"And now, Sharona, it's really getting very hard to keep your eyes open, open against the bright light, so that even my voice isn't quite enough to keep them all the way open. You can relax them a little, Sharona, just let them flutter a little bit, and you'll still be keeping your promise to me, you'll still be doing what I asked you to do, and I'm so very happy with you for doing what I asked you to do, Sharona, and you're such a nice person for doing what I asked you to do, and you like being a nice person, so that means that you can just go ahead and let your eyes close a little bit of the way, just let them flutter down a little, Sharona..."

Her eyes practically closed three-quarters by the time he'd finished saying that, and now her eyelids fluttered and bobbed. It was actually much harder to keep your eyes open a little instead of a lot, but Sharona was already in a state where she had a hard time realizing that. Devon concentrated on keeping his own breathing slow, calm and even as he continued. "That's wonderful, Sharona, you're doing so well now, doing even better and better, but it's becoming so very hard to keep your heavy, exhausted, tired eyes open now, it's so much work, you wish I would give you permission to close those heavy, tired eyes, and when I do, it's going to feel so good. So very good. But for now, you need to keep them open just a little bit for just a little longer, and you'll probably find it easier to keep your eyes open if you just relax your other muscles, just a bit, just relax your head and neck..." Her head slumped forward, and he could now only see the whites of her eyes as she tried to look up at the image of the lamp in her mind's eye. He decided to finish this.

"And now, Sharona, you're going to hear me snap my fingers, and when I do, you'll know that you can stop trying to keep those eyes open. I'm so proud of you, Sharona, and you'll be able to let those sleepy, heavy, tired eyes closed and just relax completely. Relax completely, Sharona, you'll be able to relax so completely and listen to my words and my voice and feel how proud I am, feel how happy you are at being so good, relax and listen and feel...now." He snapped his fingers. Sharona's eyes slammed shut like they were pulled by a string.

"Very good, Sharona, very very good. You've done so well, and I'm so happy with you. You can relax completely, now, just taking long, deep, slow breaths and feeling every part of your body relax. All your muscles going limp, loose, and lifeless, just listening to my calm, soothing voice. It's so easy to listen and relax, listen and relax, listen and relax." He watched as she gave a long, shuddery sigh, and settled bonelessly into the chair. She really had no resistance at all, he thought. "Do you know where a study lounge is where we can be alone, Sharona?" he asked. A few hours in private with him, in a study lounge, and she'd be conditioned enough that he could take her home with him. And from there...

"...yes..." she said, her voice filled with an ethereal, dreamy calm. She wasn't thinking about what he said at all, merely responding to it.

"Very good, Sharona," he said. "Very, very good. In a moment, I'm going to take your hand, and you'll find it very easy to stand up, then. You'll just feel like you're floating to your feet, standing will feel completely effortless, and you can continue to relax and enjoy this wonderful sensation. You'll be able to open your eyes, and lead me to the study lounge, and the two of us will be able to be alone, together, and I can help you relax even more, even deeper, even better." He took her hand. "Stand up now, Sharona."

"...no..." she said.

He paused. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Stand up, Sharona," he said, keeping his voice still very calm, but adding a little extra authority to it. "It's time for us to go to the study lounge together."

"...no..." she said, still in that same dreamy tone.

Devon was totally perplexed. "Why not?" he said, trying to keep the question in the same calm, authoritative tones.

"...because i don't trust you..." she said, still slumped down in the chair. "...you hypnotized me without asking, and i don't think i should let you take me someplace private..."

Devon just gaped at the slender, entranced girl for a long moment. He'd never expected a response like that. By this point, he hadn't even expected her to be capable of any critical thinking at all, let alone recognizing that he'd hypnotized her and refusing to obey commands. He realized he had to readjust his tactics. "That's alright, Sharona. That's very good and wise of you to think about. You're a very smart girl, and you understand that the two of us need to learn more about each other, need to get to know each other. You need to trust me before we can be alone together. You need to trust me if we're to be very good friends, Sharona." He kept talking, drawing out the 'You need to trust me' more each time. "You need to trust me before you can show me to the study lounge. Just relax right here, Sharona, keep relaxing, while you and I get to know each other better."

Sharona took a long, slow, deep breath. "...no..." she said. "...i'm going to come back up now..." She opened her eyes, sat up straight in her chair, and gave him a wary look.

Devon took a step back. He'd never had anything like this happen to him. One moment, her mind was putty in his hands. She responded to the induction perfectly, like a born hypnoslave. He could actually see her relaxing and responding to his suggestions. The next, she just snapped out of it. He'd never had a woman just decide to come out of trance like that. "Sharona," he started, trying to keep his voice calm and soothing.

"Don't even start," she said, standing up. "I mean it." She looked at him, and Devon realized uncomfortably that she was sizing him up for a fight. He'd never had to fight a woman before, not physically. None of his girls had ever managed physical resistance to his mental domination, and he was surprised to realize that he didn't think he could take her. He'd never been particularly muscular, and although she was slim, he noticed that she seemed disturbingly well-toned under the circumstances. Devon took a step back.

"I'm walking away now," she said, backing slowly away from him. "You try anything, I'll scream. I mean it, I can scream loud enough to get someone else here, a librarian, or the security people, and--"

"And what, Sharona?" He didn't move, letting her back off. He'd need to come at this from a totally different angle, and he didn't want to provoke a fight, but it never hurt to lay in a little groundwork in the target's subconscious. Make her afraid, make her feel vulnerable, make her feel just a little bit helpless. "They'll arrest me for talking to you? Or will you tell them I was trying to hypnotize you?"

"I'll tell them you were making me uncomfortable, and you wouldn't leave me alone. That's enough to get you thrown out."

He smiled, wanting her to think he was allowing her to leave. He was, but he wanted her to think that he could stop her if he wanted to. "Alright, Sharona. It's OK, you can go now. We'll continue this later, somewhere more private."

"I better not ever see you again," she said, reaching the corner of a shelf. "Or..." she suddenly relaxed a little, like she'd found something to cling to. "Or you'll have to answer for it." With that, she darted away. Devon let her leave.

Answer how?


The question obsessed him. To be honest, everything about Sharona obsessed him. She seemed like she was going to be an easy conquest, a brief but oh-so-pleasant diversion, and suddenly she'd turned into the greatest challenge of his life. He found himself even more aroused by the thought of breaking her will than ever. Instead of her being a ripe, soft peach that he could sink his teeth into, she'd turned out to be tougher than he had imagined. He couldn't wait to break her now. It would be even sweeter to taste her submission now that he realized he had to work for it.

It took him almost a week just to find her. He had to be careful now; their first encounter had put her on her guard against him, and the law tended to side with pretty young girls when they claimed they were being stalked. If she noticed him, and put the police onto him, he'd have to work very hard to avoid unfortunate attention. He'd never had to worry about the police before, and he found that the extra danger, the extra effort thrilled him.

She had an apartment just off-campus, a little efficiency spot on the ground floor. He watched her leave one morning, through binoculars, and spent the rest of the day just examining the building. The next few days, he spent working on the mind of the building superintendent, slowly persuading him that Devon was trustworthy, friendly, and helpful. He didn't care much for hypnotizing other men, but he needed access to Sharona's apartment to get to her, and by this point, Sharona's surrender was a nightly obsession.

The week he spent looking for her had also given him an inspiration on how to handle her unexpected resistance, and he was looking forward to the chance to put it into action. Every night, as he went over the plan in his head, he pictured the effect as he stroked himself. She'd be coming home after a long day of studying, perhaps a little weary, perhaps a lot weary. She'd unlock her door and walk in, and then he'd close it behind her. He'd smile.

She'd be afraid. He knew it. He could picture the fear in her eyes, it made his breath quicken. He couldn't make her trust him, but he could build on that fear. "That's right, Sharona," he'd say. "You know you can't escape me, you know I can find you anywhere, you know I can take your mind and make it mine." Right there, just the thought of that speech, made him start to pant. "You're not going to be able to resist me again, Sharona. You know that."

And she would know that, he thought, he would work on that fear, that helplessness, get into her brain and make her believe that he genuinely did have the power to hypnotize her against her will. And once she believed it, it would happen. She'd be lost in her terror, lost in her eyes, helpless against his power like a deer in the headlights...he always came right around then. When it happened for real, though, that would just be the beginning of the pleasure.

He waited for a Friday. The student apartments would be nearly empty, as people made their way to the bars. What few people remained at home would be enjoying themselves, perhaps even holding a party that would mask any noise Sharona made resisting him. He waited until she left for school, then took his duplicate key and went into her apartment. He felt...right...waiting there, at once charged with anticipation and perfectly still. He looked at her untidy dresser, her half-made bed, felt as much as saw the tiny details of her life. He had invaded that life already, and placed himself into an expression of her personality. He felt like he had already begun to control her. It felt wonderful.

He didn't worry about how long he waited. Time passed almost without him being aware of it, as he played out the evening to come over and over in his mind. When he heard the key in the lock, his erection sprang to life. Now was the time. She would be his Sharona tonight.

She opened the door and walked in, and just like in his fantasy, he closed it behind her. "That's right, Sharona," he said as she turned. But then he stopped, his voice trailing off. Her eyes were wrong, all wrong.

There was no fear there. She wasn't afraid. Her face was tight, but she looked...angry? Happy? She looked like she knew something he didn't know. "Devon," she said, her voice hard. "I told you never to try to find me." She hadn't even asked how he got in. He felt a cold, sick feeling in his gut. His dick had already gone limp.

"You can't escape, Sharona," he said, but he could hear the hesitation in his own voice. This wasn't going to work. He needed to get out of there. Suddenly, behind him, he heard the door open again.

"I told you you were going to answer for it, Devon." She smiled, a tight, angry smile. He turned, backpedaling. The woman in the doorway was smiling too. She was taller than he was, a lot taller, with pale skin and dark red hair that had to be dyed. She wore a dark red velvet dress, and long leather boots with stiletto heels. When she took a step towards him, it clacked on the linoleum of the entryway. Devon took a step back involuntarily.

"You must be the man Sharona told me about," she said. "Call me Madame Mockingbird, Devon. I'm afraid I'm not very happy with you at the moment."

Devon took another couple of steps back. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen, this other woman wasn't supposed to be here, wrecking his moment of glory.

"I think I'm going to have to teach you a little lesson, Devon. A lesson about not playing with another woman's toys. Listen to the mockingbird, Sharona." Devon half-turned, and saw Sharona's eyes suddenly glaze over into the half-lidded, dreamy expression that signalled a hypnotic trance. "Very good." Devon whipped his head back around to Mockingbird. "That's right," she said, her voice tight with anger. "She is my Sharona, Devon, and I'm very upset that you tried to poach her. She deserves better than a man like you."

She took another step forward, he took another step back. "That...that was why she wouldn't follow my suggestions. You did that."

"Oh, yes," Mockingbird said. "I know what a very good subject Sharona is, and what a big, bad world it is out there. I wouldn't make her into a good, pliant, obedient little girl without giving her some defenses against people like you." She took another step forward. Devon took a deep breath, prepared to run past her. He needed to get away, to rethink this situation again.

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byJukeboxEMCSA© 4 comments/ 39104 views/ 6 favorites

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