Free Erotic Stories

THE MULE

She had come to me seeking help for her anxieties: the usual-not sleeping, not eating, waking up in sweats etcetera: all the symptoms of a repressed memory or two that had decided it was their time to surface in her subconscious to be dealt with now that a suitable time frame had passed since their origin. She hoped like hell I could help her. She had nowhere else to turn, other than a doctor and an endless supply of sedatives. My name is Wallace. Peter Wallace. I'm a therapist a hypnotherapist.

"No guarantees, Mrs Johnson." I told her.

"No, no." she came in quickly. I understand it depends on my suitability for hypnosis, but if I'm okay it should work, shouldn't it?"

They're all the same, and thank heavens they are.

"Do you have any questions about it?" I asked her as a matter of formality.

"Can we just, do it? Now?" her eyes almost begged. Talk about a high degree of expectation.

"How much do you want it to work?" I asked her.

"A lot." came the earnest reply.

I led her through to the clinic, a separate room from my office, separated by nothing except space, with the green chair I used for therapy clearly visible from where she had been sitting across from me at my desk. I had seen her eyes look several times, as all my patients did. That chair seemed to be like some sort of magnet to them. What did I care. As long as it heightened their expectations of the desired outcome.

"Choose your most comfortable position." I said to her without smiling. This wasn't of my better days for public relations. The chair had three positions-sitting up, half reclining, and almost lying fully down with a support under the calves. She tried them all and chose the third position, like they all do.

"You might feel more comfortable with your shoes off and your belt loosened." I suggested.

She glanced quickly at me.

"Your choice." I shrugged at her. "I don't care one way or the other." I sat down.

My abruptness seemed to have quelled any fears she might have had. She took off her shoes and loosened her belt. Then she settled back and rolled her hips a few times, getting good and comfortable.

"I won't lose control, will I?" she asked quietly, a hint of concern in her voice.

"Do you want to?" I asked matter-of-factly.

"Well..er...no. I don't."

"Then you won't. Simple as that." I said.

That shut her up, at least for the time being.

I led her down through the relaxation induction to a point where I figured she was deep enough for me to test her trance depth.

"You are now...so deeply in trance." I said in my slow hypnotic way of speaking.

"That everything I tell you will feel...you will feel...and everything I tell you, you will experience...you will experience.. As your unconscious mind opens fully and works the way it does best...like an umbrella...when it=s fully open...and in that way you will find that you can do nothing but express yourself in the most truthful manner you can imagine, leaving nothing out..no matter how painful or embarrassing. Do you understand that you will be able to do that whether you like it or not? Because you are so deeply hypnotised?"

"Yes." she said slowly with a nod of her head as well.

"And do you feel deeply hypnotised?" I prepared her. "Such that you will have no resistance to your own unconscious mind should it want to tell me the absolute truth and you conscious mind may be a little hesitant?"

"Yes." she answered with only a nod of her head.

"What is your real problem?" I tested. Nothing like a bit of cold steel between the third and fourth rib to get to the truth.

"I ...I don't have one." she stammered in saying.

My eyebrows shot up. What the hell was she playing at. My impatience started to wear thin very quickly. I don't suffer being made a fool of too easily.

"Then why are you here?" I said evenly through my teeth.

No answer.

"You know you have to tell me the truth. For someone as deeply hypnotised as you are it is virtually impossible to resist being absolutely truthful about anything I ask you. Isn't that true?

"Yes." she nodded her head.

I shook my own. What the hell was going on here. I believed she was in trance, although not as deeply as I suggested to her that she was.

"Why are you here?" I repeated.

I was just about to repeat it again after waiting for almost a minute when I realised she was having some kind of internal battle between conscience and unconscious. Not conscious- conscience.

"It's okay." I soothed her. "You're doing perfectly. Relax and go deeper. Can you do that?"

A nod of her head. I counted her down from ten, deepening her with each downward count. By the time I had reached zero she seemed even more relaxed in the face and body than she had previously. Time to try again.

"At this very deep level of trance your vocal chords will not work for you. They will work only for your unconscious mind." I suggested. "Just like the subjects you've seen in the past in the stage hypnosis shows. And have you ever seen one of them not do exactly and precisely what they were told?"

A shaking of the head.

"That's right. That's because they couldn't if they wanted to. Because they were so deeply hypnotised...like you are right now. Do you understand?"

A nod of the head.

"Good. That's fine. You're doing perfectly."

"Why are you here?" I repeated the earlier unanswered question.

"To give you a message...if you're good enough to get it." she answered like a robot.

"What?" I said without thinking first.

She repeated her previous statement word for word, like a robot. I just sat there, dumbfounded. What the fuck was going on here?

"Please explain yourself?" I told her, my impatience sounding in my voice. I didn't care.

"I have been hypnotised on a very deep level." she said easily, as if she were awake.

"I am a somnambule. I have been told that when you hypnotise me I am to give you that message. I have another one, but only if you can hypnotise me deeply enough."

"How deeply do you have to go to give the second message?" I asked.

"Much deeper." she replied.

Fuck her.

"Then go now as deep as you have to in order to give me the message. I'll wait until you are there, and when you are, you can nod your head. Do you understand clearly?"

"Yes." she answered, then took a deep breath while I waited for several minutes.

Then her head nodded.

"Go ahead with your second message then." I told her.

"Please call 6753358 immediately." she said very clearly.

"What?" I fumed.

"Please call 6753358 immediately." she repeated like a robot again.

My head was starting to ache. I didn't need this shit, although I had to admit to a little bit of annoying curiosity. Apart from that I wasn't thinking to far ahead. This was too weird, even for me. I picked up the phone and dialled the number. A woman's voice answered like velvet.

"Do you like my mule, Mr Wallace?" the woman asked.

That was it.

"What the fuck is going on?" I blew up. "You some kind of fucking weirdo?"

"Settle down Mr Wallace." velvet-voice said quietly. "I just wanted to prove myself to you so you'd know you weren't talking to someone who didn't know what they were doing."

I wasn't any wiser.

"Thirty seconds. And then you get the dial-tone for your trouble!" I spat at her, velvet voice and all. Who gives a shit!

"She'll kill you, if I tell her too, Mr Wallace." velvet-voice said quietly, with just a hint of impatience.

I stared at the tranced woman. Then, before I could have my next thought, a high pitched whine came sounding through the ear-piece. I had to hold it away from my ear it was that high-pitched and loud. At the same time the woman who had been dead to the world on my chair leaped from the chair like an acrobat and whipped out a pistol with a silencer fitted to the barrel. I don=t know where she had it. Must have been on her person somewhere. I don=t usually make it a habit of frisking my patients, not expecting them to be carrying weapons. But this one was and she was levelling the menacing-looking thing directly at my face. Her eyes were steady and cold, like the barrel of the gun most probably was. I put the phone back to my ear.

The End - Chapter I

(by Mesmer)

(Stay tuned for Chapter Two)

Standard Disclaimer - Over 18's only - If you enjoyed this hypnosis/mind-control story please email your satisfaction to the manager for providing this great site. - Thank you - Mesmer.

THE MULE - 2

(Continuing from The Mule - Chapter 1)

Chapter 2

"Tell her to relax and go back." velvet-voice said smoothly.

I told the woman who instantly lay back down in the chair, resting the gun across her lap.

"She can be up again in a flash, and will be if I don't tell you the key words that will stop her from shooting you in five minutes." I was told.

I glanced at my watch. Then held the phone close to my head.

"I suggest you listen, Mr Wallace. She's a mule and won't remember a thing when she wakes up. That's why I chose her-to show and prove to you what can be done, irrespective what you might have been taught. Have I impressed you enough to take me seriously in anything else I might want to say to you?"

A fucking nut-case. Why do I always get the fucking nuts?

"Yes." was all I said.

"Good. Then listen carefully. If one million dollars just for you sounds interesting you can tell her to go home and not hang up on me. If it doesn't. You can tell her anyway, and I'll send a different mule back tomorrow. Then we'll go through the same thing all over again. What's it going to be?"

Just what I needed-a fucking offer I can't refuse. I looked at the sleeping woman.

"You can go home now." I told her.

She opened her eyes and rose from the chair. After putting her shoes back on and tightening her belt she left my office without so much as a backward glance. I heard the door slide shut in the waiting room. A bad-hair day. That what it was alright-a fucking bad-hair day. Jesus!

"What exactly do you want?" I asked, keeping my voice calm.

"That's better. Does the money interest you?" she asked.

"Not really." I said, telling the truth.

"We knew it wouldn't, Mr Wallace. But we had to check. Thank you for being honest."

"Okay." I said. "You've had your fun. Now, if you don't mind, I've got patients-

real ones who need my help. Nice joke and all that, and I am very impressed, but the fun's over. Have a nice life!"

*

With that I hung up the phone and lit a smoke. Christ! I walked out to the waiting room and locked the door. Then walked back and closed the door between it and my office. I wanted to be alone to think. I made myself a half-cold cup of coffee, wondering all the time what the hell was going on. I started to rationalise. A mule was industry talk for a somnambule: a person who could achieve deep trance state in hypnosis easily, and once there in that state could be instructed to do anything, feel anything, and see anything, then awaken without any recall of the event whatsoever. I'd only come across a few in my time as a hypnotherapist, but I knew what they capable of, or, be made capable of.

Drawing deeply on the cigarette I figured that either someone was playing a very elaborate game with me, or, it was all as velvet-voice had told me-but why? I sloshed down the luke-warm coffee, feeling the sugar coat my teeth already. Hell! Why should I worry about velvet-voice killing me: the coffee, the cigarettes, or the sugar would do the job for her.

Her. Who was her? A woman therapist? My mind raced instantly, but no female therapist came to mind. And what was the plot, really? The money trick hadn't worked.

Besides, she said they hadn't expected me to be interested anyway. So what were they interested in? They? Why did I assume it was a they? I finished the cigarette and the coffee at the same time, none the wiser for my attempt at a brain-drain. I didn't need this shit!

As I sat there musing with my thoughts I played with the idea of ringing her back.

Maybe that's what she was waiting for: curiosity to get the better of me. It was starting to.

What the hell, I figured, and then dialled the number. I could hear the receiver pick up, but no-one answered. Suspicious type, old velvet-voice. No problems.

"Hello?" I ventured first. It was my phone call after all. May as well speak and get on with it. Then I might get somewhere.

"What took you so long?" came the smooth voice.

I was calmer now: back to my old self: over the initial shock and confusion, or so I thought.

"Well, I'm forty seven years old." I said evenly. "I figure the way I smoke and drink coffee with too much sugar that I haven't got too much time left to find out why you've gone to so much trouble just to piss me off!" I wasn't mad. I was cool, but I wanted to get across the impression that I wasn't very happy about the whole thing. Christ! Not very happy? What an understatement!

"That was not my intention. I just wanted to show you what a mule was capable of, in the right hands." the velvet-voice told me cooly.

"I am aware of what they are capable of." I retorted angrily.

"There's no need to stay upset, Mr Wallace." she said slowly, as if she was talking to a child. I hate that at the best of times. "I merely wanted you to know you were dealing with an equal-or better."

My blood began to rise. She had a way of pushing my buttons, and we weren't even best friends yet.

"You've read the book, haven't you?" I stated flatly.

"Book?"

"How to win friends and influence people." I answered dryly.

"Very funny Mr Wallace. But now we are wasting time. And I haven't got that much of it too waste, I'm afraid."

"That makes two of us." I answered sharply. "You want to tell me what this is all about? I'm sure you could have found a dozen other therapists who would have been only too happy to play games with you."

"Happy, yes-the right person-no." she said.

"Come on lady. Let's get on with it before I start to get bored. Okay?" I told her in a tired tone.

"Who are you anyway?" I added quickly, wondering why I hadn't asked that sooner.

"All in good time, Mr Wallace." came the rapid answer.

I listened to the silence. It was deafening, even to someone like me who liked silence.

"Experimental hypnosis, Mr Wallace. That's what it's all about. And we'd like you to be involved. What can be done, and what can't be done."

"What makes you think I'm interested? Besides, that doesn't pay too well, last time I checked."

"I know you're interested, Mr Wallace." she came back. "And we'd pay you more than you could earn listening to someone's problems all day long."

"We?"

"There are several of us in the group."

"All therapists?" I asked, my curiosity now rising.

"Mostly, and a financial backer of course."

Alarm bells started ringing somewhere.

"How legal is what you have in mind?" I asked.

"In strict legal terms, Mr Wallace, we are doing nothing against the law. Ethics may come into it as far as the mules are concerned, but nothing that would end you up in prison.

I was starting to get bored again.

"What sort of money are we talking about?" I ventured. What the hell. It was my phone call, after all.

"Three thousand dollars a week, Mr Wallace." she said without flinching.

Jesus!

"Mr Wallace?"

"Yes." I answered flatly.

"Are you interested?"

"I don't know if I'm up or fucking down at the moment!" I retorted angrily.

"I am not trying to make a fool of you Mr Wallace." she said, reading my mind.

"What kind of experimental hypnosis?" I asked tiredly.

"The kind you'd be interested in Mr Wallace. All kinds."

This time the silence was mine. How did she like it? Besides, I didn't like the way she inferred my interest.

"Mr Wallace?"

"Yes."

"Are you interested enough to meet with me?"

"How do you know I won't tear your head off?" I said dryly.

"It's not in your nature to be violent Mr Wallace. We've checked."

"When and where?" I asked.

"Here and now." came the rapid answer.

"When and where?" I repeated flatly.

"At the pier in half an hour."

"Okay."

"And, Mr Wallace?"

"Yes?"

"It would not be in your best interests to do anything silly. I would know, whatever it was."

"Sure." I said. The phone went dead in my ear.

**

I lit another bunger and drew heavily on it, then watched as the blue-grey smoke streamed up toward the ceiling until it became invisible. The pier was only ten minutes from my office. I went there often when I had a problem, wanted to think, or just plain relax. Most therapists have their own therapist. I don't. I watch the ocean and it doesn't charge me one-fifty an hour to do it.

I lit a second cigarette in as many minutes, shaking my head in disgust and wondering what kind of experiments she had in mind-they had in mind. I was interested in experimental hypnosis, purely from the viewpoint of discovering unknown performance levels as far as the human mind was concerned.

I glanced at my watch, wondering where my destiny was taking me next. And somehow knowing the excitement that was already building in my conscious mind could either be very good, or very bad. I was ready for either. Time to go, with ten minutes to spare.

Just a short, brisk walk.

The End Chapter 2 (To be continued with Chapter 3)

(by Mesmer)

Standard disclaimer - to be read by over 18's only. If you have enjoyed this Hypnosis/Mind-

Control story please email your thanks to the publishers and providers of this site, who are much appreciated by all "their" writers.

(Continued from "The Mule 2")

The Mule 3

Chapter 3

* * *

The pier jutting about one hundred yards into the calm ocean waters of the coast was packed with people: holiday-makers, fisherman, and people just out for a walk in the beautiful sunshine. Well, she'd have to find me, I decided as I walked onto the wooden boards and breathed deeply of the salt air. I loved it. I think I'd die quickly if I had to live away from the coast. It made me feel alive and not crowded at the same time: always feeling like there were no walls around me: always somewhere to go to get away.

I walked to the very end and stood beside an old man peering through the pay-

telescope. I looked around as I walked, not knowing who I was looking for: maybe someone who looked like they were looking for me: a hint of recognition or something. Nobody seemed interested in the slightest. I waited.

The old man left, several others taking his place over the next half an hour. I was getting angrier by the passing minute. I took a deep breath and leaned heavily on the rail of the pier, looking as far out toward the Eastern horizon as I could. It had a relaxing effect on the eyes when their point of focus was infinity. What was going on? What was I doing here anyway? Wasting my time because of some nut. That was what! I straightened my shoulders and braced them against my spine. I'd had enough, and enough was enough!

"Mr Wallace?" sounded the familiar velvet voice. I flinched, not expecting anyone really to show up at all. I turned around slowly and allowed my gaze to fall on the owner of the voice that had been pissing me off all morning.

The face that owned the voice was smiling quietly at me. The lips were still together, but they were definitely smiling. And the face was absolutely beautiful, like a fashion model.

I stood there staring, my thoughts not making any more sense to themselves than they did to me. Then she laughed: a belly laugh that sounded natural and free.

"Close your mouth, Mr Wallace. A sea gull might fly right on in." she grinned.

I snapped my mouth shut, not being even aware it had opened involuntarily. She stood only an inch or so less than I did at six foot one and a half inches-tall for a woman. Her hair was flaming red. Her skin was fair, as it was with most natural red-heads, but with no freckles on this one. Bright red gloss covered full lips, and the body beneath the dark, blue business suit seemed to fill out the destined shape of the suit, top and bottom, in all the right places.

"Did I pass?"she smiled, bringing my wandering gaze back to her smiling eyes.

I hardened my gaze. She looked about mid to late thirties, I figured. And she looked smart. For some reason in my life I never got to meet women who were nearly as tall as I was. I found it a little intimidating: no doubt some sort of complex that had always lain dormant in my unconscious mind, just waiting fro the day I met her-the one with the velvet voice.

"Pass what?" I answered flatly, sounding humourless compared to her.

"Your inspection of whoever you were expecting."

"To be honest, I didn't know whether I was expecting anyone. The whole thing's a bit unusual, to say the least. Don't you think?" I asked.

Her smile faded quickly.

"We are not playing games, Mr Wallace."

"Then what exactly are we playing at here?"

Her lips tightened just a little.

"We are not playing at anything, Mr Wallace." she almost pouted, but not quite. "We are very serious about what we do. You will be too once you know about it."

"And would that be before the year two thousand?" I asked dryly.

Again the belly laugh. It was attractive whether I liked to admit it or not. She had beautiful, even teeth. She wasn't a small woman either. Not fat or big. Just athletic I finally decided while looking at her eyes and letting my peripheral do the scanning of her frame.

"Get your inspection over with, Mr Wallace, so we can get on with it."

Observant too. I give her just the hint of the slightest grin I could manage.

"That's better. You can find humour anywhere. Can't you?" she grinned.

"Let's get to it." I said quickly.

"Let's walk back to the seats under the trees. As you've already observed I'm a natural red-head. And I don't like being sunburned."

"Okay." I answered. We walked slowly back to the seats situated beneath the tall, bushy trees that lined the coast in that neck of the woods.

She sat down on my left, resting her purse in her lap. Seated, her eyes were dead level with mine, and they sparkled with life. She rested one hand in the other as she took a deep breath, then placed them both to rest on the top of her purse-a dark green one-very expensive-

looking.

Suddenly, an idea came to my mind, stupid as it was. But it made sense right then. I voiced it to see what would happen, watching her eyes and face for the slightest indication I was right.

"You people are with, or for, the government." I stated flatly. "Nobody else could afford to pay me that much money, not in this industry at any rate."

"You are very astute, Mr Wallace. We've made the right choice in you. But then I knew that from the beginning."

* * *

"Is this spy stuff?" I asked curiously.

She laughed that belly-laugh again. Her eyes shined.

"What we do is not that boring, Mr Wallace." she grinned. "You will find it very interesting as I've already said."

"Well...what is it?"

"Mr Wallace." she began her story. "I represent a group of professionals who have been tasked by the government to conduct experimental research on selected hypnotic subjects to ascertain the extent of which post-hypnotic suggestion can be taken before control is taken back by the subject."

I knew she could tell by my eyes that she had me interested. It was all about control:

the motivating force of all hypnotherapists: the god complex, as some people called it over a beer or two.

"Are you a therapist?" I asked.

"Yes, Mr Wallace-for twelve years now. Not as long as you, but I've worked very hard to be the very best at what I do."

A woman after my own heart, I thought as I scanned her face for any sign of lies or deceit. I found none.

"Where do you find the mules?" I asked.

Her smile faded.

"That's where the ethics come into it, I'm afraid. They are mostly normal patients who come to us for treatment with their various ailments. They do not know we use them, like that woman who was in your office this morning. She is just a housewife, recruited by one of our other members from his practice."

"I see." was all I could find worth saying at that point.

"Specifically, what type of experiments do you conduct?" I asked.

"Many different types, Mr Wallace." she replied with that velvet voice containing just a hint of mischief. "The human mind has always been of great interest to mankind since the beginning of time."

"Controlling it has been of even greater interest." I came back with.

She smiled patiently. "That's true Mr Wallace. But do you think we are the only country in the world to conduct such experiments?"

"No." I said admittedly.

"Then are you interested or not. I have been authorised to pay you your first month's salary, in advance if you are. You'll have until the end of the week to clear your patient log, or put them off to another therapist. That's the price I'm afraid. You will not have the time to work your private practice."

I let it all sink in slowly, turning away from her beautiful face and features to look back out across the emerald green ocean. The cigarette packet found its way into my hand without my knowledge. I lit one and drew on it deeply, exhaling with a deep sigh.

"Why me?" I asked as I took another deep drag. "There are plenty of others who'd jump at that sort of money."

"As I've already told you, Mr Wallace. We've done our homework on you and many others. Your dedication is, shall I say, unmatched by any other. And we know you conduct your own private experiments along similar lines in your own time, although you do have the good graces to use volunteers. You also come highly recommended to us by former patients who speak highly of your rapport, although you wouldn't know it from what you've shown me so far."

If I hadn't sensed the smile in her voice without looking at her I would've gotten angry again, but I did, so I guess it made a difference. Instead, I took another drag and settled back into the hard wooden seat and gazed out into eternity for a few minutes more, testing her patience and sense of humour like she'd tested mine all morning.

"Tell me more." I said quietly

"You will be working closely with all of the group, drawing your mules from a central bank of clients, as it were, who we will supply you with. You'll work from a central group of private offices downtown. We have priority research aims and objectives each month. Meetings are held every morning and evening after we've finished, sometimes quite late. That's another thing. Your hours will be somewhat...ah...varied, to say the least, but I'm sure you're used to that anyway."

I knew I'd probably live to regret it, but it all sat well with me. A little bit cloak and dagger, but so far nothing had been said that gave me a feeling of wrong-doing in the legal sense. And it was for a good cause. And then there was the money. The money. I turned to look at her, wondering if I was being made a fool of in the grandest manner I could have ever imagined. I studied her face.

"One other thing, Mr Wallace." she added as I scanned her eyes and features for the umpteenth time. "You will be, if you decide to accept, required to sign a secrecy oath, the ramifications of which are that you can never disclose the nature of your work with us for any reason, to any person without our express authorisation, and, that will never be given, Mr Wallace. Do you understand that quite clearly."

The cloak and dagger stuff deepened by the second.

"We are not trying to make a fool of you Mr Wallace." she added, reading my mind of a few seconds earlier.

I studied her eyes for a few seconds more before telling her what I figured she already knew.

"Okay." I said flatly. As simple as that.

She smiled broadly and clapped her hands together like a little girl would after being given some good news.

"Good!" she beamed. "I'll pick you up at six tonight and introduce you to our group.

You'll like them-most of them anyway." Then she gave me the belly-laugh again. I smiled hesitantly. "Relax, Mr Wallace. You don't have to kill anyone....yet." she added with a cheeky grin and another belly-laugh.

She stood up and so did I. I took her dry, warm outstretched hand and squeezed it firmly. My grip met with equal resistance on her part. I smiled thinly. I like a good, firm handshake in man or woman. Then she turned on her expensive heels and strode confidently off like a woman on a mission to get somewhere inn a hurry, leaving me alone to contemplate my fate, or destiny, depending on what sort of mood I was in. And that, I hadn't figured out quite yet.

* * *

I decided to sit back down and think some more: run it all back over in my mind, right from the moment the woman rang me for an appointment-the mule. Right from the beginning to now, right that very moment.

By the time I had finished I was none the wiser in my own mind, apart from what I had surmised as the whole thing had developed over the morning. Lots of money and interesting research. And I didn't have to worry about getting clients. It all seemed too good to be true. I had never been the one to be in the right place at the right time, although this time it seemed like I was. Nevertheless, my suspicious nature still wouldn't let me be entirely comfortable with the whole thing. I decided to play it by ear and trust no one.

* * *

The End Chapter 3 Standard Disclaimer advising that this Hypnosis/Mind-Control story is pure, unadulterated FICTION, and, is written for adults over 18 years of age. If you have enjoyed this story please show your appreciation to the people who published it for me. Thank you.

(Continued from "The Mule 3")

by Mesmer.

The Mule - 4

Chapter 4

*

I was waiting only a few minutes when the white limo glided to a halt outside my office building. It looked like the type the movie stars always hired, with the blackened windows that you couldn't see in. I opened the door and slid into the air-conditioned interior. Leaning against the other side of the wide-bodied luxury car was the one with the velvet voice, smiling quietly as I clipped up the buckle of the seat belt, similar to the one she wasn't wearing. I glanced at my watch for reasons that escaped me right then. Exactly six o'clock.

She reached forward and slid back the mini-bar, then began mixing two drinks. I watched with curious amazement as she mixed a Scotch for herself and a Rum and Coke for me. She handed it to me. I took it and grinned, my eyebrows raised in wonderment as to how she knew what I drank.

"As I said, Mr Wallace. We do our homework."

I sipped the ice-cold drink and leet it burn away my day's frustrations.

"What name do you go by, or do you have many aliases?" I asked between sips as the big car glided effortlessly along the highway toward the city.

She grinned at my not-so-subtle attempt at humour.

"We don't use any name but our own Mr Wallace. We are not spies, as I've already said. My name is Tina. Tina Clark. And I think that since we're going to be working so closely together, we might as well be on a first-name basis. Don't you?"

"If you like." I answered.

"I like." she smiled, sipping her drink. Her eyes never left me for a moment. It was as if she was studying my reaction to everything that had happened so far: trying to work out my mind-set or thoughts as everything had unfolded. I sipped again and tensed lightly as the car turned a tighter than normal corner. I saw the slight frown crease her otherwise wrinkle-free forehead as the car straightened and smoothed out the ride. We rode the rest of the short drive in silence.

* *

The building where the big car dropped us off was like most of the others. I watched the limo drive off, noting that I never did see the driver. The darkened partition never came down once during the drive in. I turned back and looked at Tina. She was smiling and gesturing with her right hand to come with her. I acknowledged and followed her inside the building.

There were no names on the building outside. Inside we passed a registry board with a dozen or so names on it, none of which held any special significance for me or the type of work that I was supposedly hired for. Tina walked slightly ahead of me and to the right. I followed her into the elevator and stood at the back, watching her press the number of the top floor-twenty six. We rode in silence, apart from her smile flashed at me twice on the ride up.

Then the elevator stopped silently and the doors shushed open. I followed her again as she walked from the elevator and turned right. Down a long hallway and to the left we came into a large open foyer area, centred by a semi-circular reception desk, complete with receptionist. Branching off in four directions were four hallways, each seemingly lined with doors which I presumed opened into offices for her group. She walked up to the receptionist after asking me to wait a little way back.

"How many are in your group?" I asked when she approached me smiling.

"Including myself, and you, there are now twenty-seven of us." she replied immediately. "This way."

Again she gestured and again I followed like a little puppy, my mind stunned at the number of people who were doing the same thing as I had been hired to do.

"Why me if you've already got so many?" I asked as we walked down the hallway to the far right.

"A quantity of personnel we never have a shortage of, Mr Wal..er...Peter. The quality of personnel we are always short of. A lot of the past people we had been using were missing the very thing in their character that we found so appealing in you." she said with a gay laugh.

I liked the way she said my name.

"Which is?" I asked slowly.

"Your dedication to the challenge." she replied. "We know you know, there's no challenge, like no challenge."

I grinned. She was right on that one. It was the reason worthwhile getting out of bed each day for-the challenge of the moment, good or bad, in whatever way it chose to express itself to see if I was up to the task of meeting it.

Tina stopped at the last office door on the right of the hallway and pointed to the nameplate on the door. 'Dr. Peter Wallace.' it said in bright, black-on-gold print. Then she looked at me and grinned.

"Sure of yourself, were you?" I smiled thinly. "I could walk back the way we just came right now. What would you do with your nameplate then?" I asked.

"Wait for you to come back." she replied instantly.

I smiled thinly again. She was quick. I had to give her that, as well as beautiful. She turned the knob and pushed gently on the door, then pointed behind her shoulder.

"I'm right across the hall." she added.

I turned and looked at the nameplate on her door. 'Dr. Tina Clark.' it said.

"I'm not a doctor." I told her as I followed her into my new office.

"We are all doctors in this industry, Peter-doctors of the mind. Wouldn't you agree?"

she said closing the door quietly.

"Maybe." I replied, not convinced whether some of my colleagues deserved such a distinguished title, going from some of the things I'd heard about them over the years.

Words failed me as my gaze roamed the entire office. To say it was large would have been an understatement. It was gigantic. It was split into an office area with filing cabinets and a computer, with three doors sectioned off to what looked like three smaller offices. On one side there was an eating area, small table and chairs, along with a very comfortable looking leather lounge. Around the wall of quiet green pain hung several landscapes of peaceful nature.

"One of those is your bedroom, one is your en-suite and shower, the other is your therapy room." she told me, leading the way to my huge desk. "Try it out."

She sat down in the comfortable leather chair opposite my desk as I went around and sat down in my own swivel chair. I couldn't help but grin. Opulence like this I'd never expected to see in my days as a therapist, unless some old biddie died and left me her fortune.

I shifted and became even more comfortable.

"Come with me." she said and rose quickly from the comfort of her chair, walking toward the first of the three smaller rooms. She opened the door and walked through. I followed. It was getting to be a habit: one that I could probably put up with for a while if it meant always looking at her rear as she walked.

It was the therapy room, complete with a large, soft velvet recliner, tape deck and mike. It had the lot, including a cold water fountain for dry mouths when they came up from the depths of their trance. During trance there was no need for the swallowing reflex to function in most patients, so their subconscious would shut it down and open it again when they came up, always with a dry throat, depending on the depth of trance they had achieved.

A tall, dimmable standing light stood behind the recliner chair, along with another comfortable-looking leather chair beside the larger one. Tina sat herself down on the smaller of the two chairs.

"Well?" she grinned, waving her right hand and arm around in a grand sweeping motion. "What do you think so far?"

I stared hard at her sitting there in all her red-headed beauty, trusting nothing as I'd planned.

"What's to think, apart from the obvious?" I replied.

"I understand." she said after a few second's silence during which she studied my face and eyes.

"I'll come and get you when it's time for the evening meeting." she said, getting up out of the chair. "Everybody waits until the last therapist is done for the day. That way everyone is kept abreast of all progress made for the day. Make yourself at home." she grinned as she walked past me closer then she needed to I thought. "It most probably will be on many a lonely night. Oh, and, in the top, right hand drawer of your desk you'll find some interesting reading."

And then she was gone. I didn't even hear the outer office door close. The smaller of the chair beckoned my presence for some reason. I sat down in it and begin to swivel from side to side, not allowing myself to relax for an instant. Well, not completely, anyway.

* * *

It had taken me a half an hour of reading, or wading, as I flipped through the history of the people who had hired me and the activities they were involved, of which I was now a part as well. And the more I read, the more a nagging feeling began to crawl over me. I couldn't analyse it-not good, but not bad either. It was just there, and, the more I read, the more solidly the feeling entrenched itself into my mind-set, although taking no particular form of identification.

The name on the not-too-thin leather-bound dossier was printed in the same italic print as the name-plate on my new office door. AH. M. C. X. I had already made a mental note to ask Tina what the initials stood for. I puzzled over them for only a few minutes before giving it away. Most times I didn't have the patience for mind-games. Inside the folder were mini-files, all stapled together. And, there were many, many of them. Preceding them and paper-clipped to the inside cover of the leather-bound dossier was an index which listed alphabetically the given names of each of the research and development project studies. It was very lengthy, and very enlightening, to say the least. I had finished just reading the index, and then the more detailed content pages, and had only just begun to get into the synopsis of the early files on 'A' when I heard the knock.

* * * *

She came in and closed the large door behind her, walking directly to my desk and sitting down in the chair opposite me. Her eyes were bright and smiling, although looking a little tired with just a hint of tell-tale puffiness beneath each. I closed the leather-bound dossier and settled back into my chair, my face a mixture of my suspicion and my thoughts. It must have shown.

"Anything wrong?" she asked, her smile fading a little.

"What do the initials stand for?" I asked before I forgot, or got bogged down in some other areas.

"You've glanced through the dossier, and you haven't put that together yet?" she stated curiously. For some reason I felt a tinge of embarrassment at being so mentally slow in her regard.

"No." was all I said.

"Hypnotic Mind Control Experiments." she stated slowly, as if she were talking to a slow schoolboy. I thought about that for a few seconds while holding her gaze. Then I glanced away and began to look around the room.

"Where do I fit in?" I asked.

"Right where you are now." she grinned. "Next Monday when you officially start with us you'll be briefed on your first project. I know what it is, and I think you'll be more than interested. But don't ask me to tell you before time. It isn't my place. It's... his."

For just a brief second her eyes glazed. Was it at the word, 'his?'

* * * * *

The End of "The Mule" Chapter 4 (To be continued)

by Mesmer.

Standard Disclaimer which protects the innocents, and me, from those of you who actually believe this unadulterated FICTION. To be ready by 18 years and over. If you enjoy this story please tell your appreciation to the Publisher who supports we who enjoy taking the time to write for you. - email your comments to the publisher of this site. Thank you. Mesmer.

(Continued from "the Mule 4)

THE MULE 5

by Mesmer.

Chapter 5

*

"Mind control experiments?"

Tina had a slight look of surprise on her face.

"Getting cold feet already?" she smiled. "I told you there some variation to the ethics involved."

"No. I answered. "Just curious."

"Or suspicious." she grinned. "But that's the side of you that's going to the most valuable to our work: the fact that you won't let something go until you've nutted out everything you can about it. Am I right?"

She was right. I just grinned and took in her natural red-haired beauty. She was a flaming redhead if ever I'd seen one.

"We are all redheads in my family-brothers and sisters alike. There are four of us.

Two boys and two girls." she said, somehow reading my mind.

All I could do was grin and wonder how she did it. Maybe it was a natural knack.

Then again, maybe it wasn't. I wondered if she was married. I hadn't noticed any rings on her fingers.

"I was once. It didn't work. That was a long time ago."

I sat up in my chair, alarm bells going off everywhere in my head at once. Now I was suspicious beyond a doubt. Tina had just read my mind!

She burst out laughing. It must have been the look of incredulity on my face.

"Peter." she laughed. "There is a lot you know about hypnosis. And there is a lot you have yet to know. Do you want to learn?"

My head must have nodded unconsciously. I know I didn't consciously think about doing it. She stopped laughing and quieted. Then her face became a little more serious.

"Listen." she said, leaning forward in her chair a little. "Just allow everything to happen naturally, exactly as it wants to. Don't try to make anything happen. And don't try to stop anything from happening. Okay?"

The hypnotic phraseology was not unfamiliar to me. I use it myself all the time. She was using it as an analogy and as advice. I took a deep breath and sighed loudly.

"Okay." I answered. "Should I shroud my thoughts since you seem to be able to read my mind?"

She laughed that belly laugh again.

"I can't read your thoughts whenever I want to." she stated. "Only when they directly concern me and you project them."

I grinned. "I'd better keep them in line then."

"If you want to keep them from me." she said simply. "Now come on. Time to meet a few people. Well, not a few actually. Everyone. They're waiting for us."

With that we both stood up and I found myself following her like a puppy dog again.

This was getting to be a habit, I thought, as I pictured myself with a dog collar around my neck and Tina leading me along with a leash. I'd no sooner had the thought when Tina burst out into hilarious laughter, such that she had to stop walking. When she settled there were tears-stains on her cheeks she had laughed so hard. Then she looked at me, still stifling her mirth.

"Woof, woof." was all she said, and then I realised what she had laughed at. "Let's go." she repeated. Again I followed and again she burst into laughter. Jesus! Am I slow or what? I followed obediently the laughing woman who walked ahead of me.

**

The meeting with everyone in the very long board room took about a half and hour, consisting of mainly introductions from men and women who appeared to me as if they'd rather be anywhere else than right there at the time: home in bed more likely for most of them. They all looked tired. They were friendly enough, except for the director. He was serious and his name was Robert Sanger. He was the projects coordinator for all of them. I felt he was studying me the whole time.

When it was over Tina and I left the room. Or should I say, she left and I followed again. Outside the door she stopped and turned, closing the door and looking at me.

"Well. What do you think?" she asked as she turned and began to walk back toward my office.

"They all look like they need a good night's sleep." I said honestly.

"Yes." she relied flatly. "I feel like that at times. But none of us would trade our jobs for all the tea in China. And neither will you, once you become involved in it."

I said nothing as I followed her down the hallway and into my office. Nice ass, I thought as she opened the door and stood aside for me to enter.

"So is yours." she grinned as I walked past her and inside.

Jesus!

She was smiling as she turned around after closing the door behind her. We walked over to my desk. Tina sat down opposite me, still smiling.

"We've got to sort something out about you reading every thought I have." I smiled at her. "Sooner or later I'm going to really stuff up."

She belly-laughed again. It was almost a sensual laughter, seemingly coming from the pit of her stomach in a very relaxed fashion.

"I like to laugh." she read my mind again. "It's good for the soul."

"Jesus!" I said out loud, exasperated with myself.

Tina laughed again. When she'd settled I asked what I wanted to ask.

"Are you a natural mind-reader, or did you learn it in here?"

"I was taught it in here." she answered. "But once you get the hang of it, and you understand what you're trying to do it becomes second nature."

"Must come in handy at times." I mused. "Can everybody here do it?"

"Not everybody." she replied. "But not everybody needs to, or even knows about it.

Only selected people are told and then taught. And you are one who has been chosen to be told and then taught, or I wouldn't have given you an insight into it in the first place. I'm just wetting your appetite. There's more exciting things than mind-reading you've yet to discover.

And much more than that again in your work here with us I hope."

I just sat and looked at her-stared at her would be more correct. I'd never had a redhead in my life, although I'd always wondered if they were as red between the legs as they were on their head. Then, as I was looking at her she blushed a scarlet crimson which was very noticeable on her pale, smooth skin.

"Yes." she said softly. "We are."

"Jesus!" I twigged instantly. "I'm sorry! I'm just not used to watching every natural thought I have about people."

"That's okay." she smiled at me sincerely. "I must admit it's fun." Then she added quickly as an afterthought. "Most of the time."

"Do you any drugs with the patients?" I asked, changing the subject away from her reading my mind. I could see it caught her a little by surprise.

"No. Everything is natural. No drugs whatsoever." she answered. "What you have to do now is to take home that dossier and go through it carefully. Then you have to select a field, or suggest one to us for authorisation if none in there take your special interest. Then you can start work on it. Reports are required daily as I've already told you, as well as the video tapes of each patient you work with. I forgot to tell you there's a hidden camera in the tape deck. I'll show you how to use it another time."

She sat back and let her gaze wander idly around the room. Then her face suddenly became serious as her eyes settled squarely back on me. She leaned forward again, resting her hands on the top of my desk.

"Peter. The work we do here is very serious. Each one of us feel particularly proud to have been selected and given the opportunity to conduct our research, and be paid well for it at the same time. We work hard here, but we also play hard, as you'll see. Weekends are for recreation and not work of any kind. Nobody wants to burn out. The work is just too important. We all meet every Sunday if we want to mix. It's like a big, extended family. I love it. But I love the work more."

I just sat and listened to the sincerity in her voice. She spoke with her heart., It was hard for me not to warm to her personality. I didn't think I'd ever met anyone quite like her.

She suddenly smiled a soft smile at me, and then I remembered.

"Jesus!" I sighed tiredly. "I'll never learn."

"Thank you for the compliment." she said quietly. "I don't get too many of them along those lines."

And with that she stood up and turned to leave.

"Tina?"

"Yes." she answered, turning back to face me.

"What is your project area?"

"You'll find out soon enough." she replied, lowering her eyes a little as she said it.

"Don't forget the dossier. I'll walk you back down to the car. It's waiting to take you back to your office. I've got to attend the daily report meeting. I'll call you tomorrow to see if you've any questions on what you've seen so far. And also if you've got a feeling for any particular project. Remember, it can be a suggestion of yours."

"Are there any limiting guidelines?" I asked.

"No. Only your imagination." she replied. "And the objective must have a benefit for someone, or something, somewhere."

"Okay." I said and rose to follow her out of the office and down to the outside of the nondescript building that was going to be my new home for the next so many weeks, months or years.

As the big limo pulled up to a gentle halt in front of me Tina turned and looked me squarely in the eye.

"I hope you like it here Peter. We've all got high hopes for your work, whatever it turns out to be."

I gazed into the depths of those deep eyes, thinking nothing about her sexuality whatsoever. She smiled.

"You're learning." she grinned.

"I intend to." I countered. "Then watch out." She smiled as the door cracked open by itself. I slid into the comfortable leather interior and waved as the white chariot pulled away from the curb. Chemistry is chemistry, I thought as I imagined vividly Tina's naked body with its flaming red hair top and bottom clearly in my mind's eye-so clearly in fact, that I could almost reach out and touch her. I don't think I'd ever had an image that seemed so real and life-like.

* * *

I settled back to stare at the reflection of myself in the blackened plate plexi-glass that separated the driver from where I sat letting everything I had seen and heard and thought wash over me. Suddenly I felt drained: tired and very drained. I let my eyes close and just rested for the rest of the drive until I sensed through my foggy mental haze that all motion in any direction had ceased.

I came back to full alertness with the same thought in my fore-mind. Chemistry is chemistry, and, between Tina and I, it existed. It was as simple as that. I stepped out into the afternoon sunshine with the dossier tucked tightly under my left arm and closed the door, watching the large, white limo glide silently off into the distance. I wondered that I had still not seen the driver's face, but I really didn't care. I was tired. This had been one hell of a day.

One hell of a day indeed!

* * * *

By midnight that same night I was wide awake, my mind burning with ideas generated by pouring over the files of research contained in the dossier, as well as projects of my own that I'd always been interested in or played with. I couldn't believe there were so many fields that hypnosis could be applied to. It was amazing, some of them leaving the ethics of my industry so far behind so as not to even exist. But nothing I'd read had hinted at anything underhanded where the patient was concerned. Everything seemed to be about finding techniques that worked and that could be replicated by other therapists, over and over again.

I finally closed the dossier at one thirty, had a shower and then fell into bed exhausted. Sleep came to me as I imagined the flaming red hair, top and bottom once again in my mind of Tina Clark.

* * * * *

I awoke with the same image in my mind and the same thought-chemistry is chemistry. I showered and changed, then began organising my day. I had already chosen another therapist who could take over my existing patients and he was one I could trust to stick to the publicised ethic of our trade: 'Do no harm-treat the cause.'

A phone call later and that was done. I wanted to clear my slate as quickly as possible for some reason. Maybe I was excited. It happened occasionally. Not often lately, but occasionally. Again I had the image of Tina Clark naked in all her red, flaming glory. I was amazed. I had never had an image linger so long, so strongly or so vividly in my mind before about anything. I couldn't figure it out, and when it came to me I thought I had everything figured out after forty seven years of trying.

Next was my office-the old one. The landlord and I had always gotten on after I had cured his wife of smoking and a few sexual anxieties caused by her well-meaning mother. As luck would have it there was a chiropractor looking for an office in the area and mine would suit him just fine, the landlord told me. I hung up relieved. Being let out of the lease agreement had been on my mind since I realised I was becoming serious about Tina Clark's offer of employment. I decided to drive down to the old office and clear out my things, send the files of existing patients to their new therapist. The sooner I had a clean slate the better. I couldn't wait until Monday. In fact, I didn't want to wait until Monday. And then I remembered. I took out the envelope containing all the money Tina had given me as my first months salary. I had to bank it. With my luck I'd get mugged if I didn't. I stared at it for a long time before putting it back in the envelope and heading off to do the jobs that needed doing, thinking no further ahead than that.

* * * * * *

The End The Mule 5 by Mesmer (to be continued)

Standard Disclaimer to remind readers that this Hypnosis/Mind-Control story was written for adults over 18 years of age. If you enjoyed this story please email the publishers of many writer's works at this site. Thank you - Mesmer.

(continued from "The Mule 5)

THE MULE -6

(c)

by Mesmer

Chapter 6

*

By twelve thirty I was back in my apartment, looking down at the ocean with all its scattered array of sailing boats dotting the backdrop of its emerald-green depths, and the swimmers and fisherman marking their presence in the surf close to the shore and along the beach.

My apartment was on the sixth floor and faced to the East. I'd spent a long time in finding it. I needed the ocean to disappear within myself at the end of a long and tiring day with other people's problems. I liked it, and, I called it home. I had thought about changing my place of abode since meeting Tina Clark: moving to something a bit more luxurious, but had then dismissed the idea without a second thought. I was happy here and always had been.

'If it ain't broke-don't fix it', came the old adage that had crossed my time at the thought of leaving.

I decided it was a wise old saying and settled down into the lounge with a drink to gaze out over the sea and the far distant horizon where my eyes had often travelled seeking infinity to relax them before a period of self-hypnosis. I still couldn't believe everything that happened in my life over the past twenty four hours. Shaking my head I got up and mixed myself a fresh drink, then sat down again into the comfort of the lounge, resting my head momentarily on the soft back before straightening to gaze out over the ocean and into infinity once more.

As my eyes relaxed and my concentration focussed I could feel myself slipping down into a light, pleasant and comfortable trance state. I decided to go with it and just let my thoughts come and go as they wished: not trying to make anything happen, and not trying to stop anything from happening: just allowing everything to happen naturally, easily, just as it wished. MY thoughts began to wander: to come and go. And I let them, watching, observing, being fully there in them, but not involved in any way: caring from a distance only. And they came and they went: one after the other: unimportant thoughts of a lot of things, yet nothing in particular.

My trance state deepened as I watched my thoughts live their lives and disappear to wherever they went after coming into conscious awareness. The lounge, my apartment and the swimmers and fishermen and sail boats had faded from my awareness as my relaxed concentration and focus remained fixed on the lives of my thoughts of the moment. My focus had narrowed and my trance deepened even more with its narrowing. My breathing had shallowed and my hand rested lightly around the glass as it lay on the small table beside the lounge.

Then one thought kept returning: Tina Clark in all her naked and flaming glory: as bright and real and life-like as if she were right in front of my eyes. I even imagined I could smell the perfume she was wearing the day before as I sank deeper into the image until she was all there was in my mind and my imagination. I was aware of myself being amazed in a relaxed and focussed way as I went further and further into the illusion of Tina's naked glory within my mind's eye. Nothing else existed but her: her long, red hair reaching down to well below her shoulders: her neck, white and slender and long: her shoulders slightly rounded with a mole just above her left arm where the shoulder begins: her breasts-full and jutting for a woman of her maturity, with long, dark nipples and wide areola's at their base: her flat stomach, rounding only slightly as it dipped down into the lush and thick thatch of flaming, curly red pubic hair: her hips and thighs, curving gracefully downward to well-shaped calves and ankles: all the way down to her feet, dainty in their unusual black toe-nail polish and their repose as she stood there, tall and beautiful in my mind's eye in all her magnificent, naked glory.

Then slowly the image of her began to fade, almost as if someone was slowly turning down the projector of my mind's eye. It happened like that at times when I used self-hypnosis and really tranced deeply. Everything slowly went to gray and then to black as I recognised the insides of my own eyelids once again. I opened them and blinked slowly a few times, re-

orienting myself to my surroundings, feeling very relaxed and calm as I always did whenever I came from a deep trance. Gradually my apartment, the lounge, my body and my drink all came back into my awareness. I brought the glass to my mouth and drained the contents remaining in one gulp. A dry mouth and throat was the price you paid for the benefits of such a deep trance state.

Then I just sat there for a few minutes, idly wondering at the tricks of the mind in why I imagined Tina Clark with a mole on her left arm at the top and black polish on her toenails. That's what happened I guess. It had been a long time since I had been naturally attracted to a woman. Too bloody long, in fact. Then, slowly, those things, too, began to fade from my conscious mind as I began to think about an idea I had as a tiny thought the night before while I had been studying the files in the thick dossier.

I have always believed that there were many doors that could be opened in a person's subconscious mind: not just bottom out and that's all there is and there aint more, as some of my associates did. I believed that there was an incredible amount of knowledge that could be tapped into and used for the good of all, if it could be discovered how to do it, which just took time and opportunity. Well, now I had both-time, and the opportunity to research and develop something of the like as far as a technique goes. I wondered how they would take to that idea.

And the more I thought about it, the different ways of trancing a patient down to those levels where the various doors were I believed existed, the more excited I became about the idea. I was especially interested in getting right down to the source of a person, and, if I was right in my long-held assumptions and beliefs it would be the source of us all-the collective unconscious as Jung and many others had articled so many times in their careers.

Suddenly I had it-the project I wanted to work on. I wanted to discover the technique for reaching and utilising the collective unconscious of mankind. I sat back and let the idea cement itself in my own unconscious mind. A not-so-small task I knew, but now I had the time, and I had the opportunity, and most certainly all of mankind would benefit in some way. I lit a smoke and inhaled deeply as the connotations ran around and around in my mind.

Three cigarettes later the idea was firmly entrenched in both my minds so as to become a dominant thought whenever I wished it.

* *

The phone rang and interrupted my next intention of reaching for another cigarette. I smiled.

Good! Both I and my lungs knew I smoked too much anyway. I lifted the receiver, idly expecting it to be the landlord about my bond. It wasn't.

"Hello?' asked the quiet and smooth velvet voice that had been invading my thoughts so as almost to become a dominant thought itself, if I hadn't had so many other interesting things to fixate on.

"Hi." I answered smiling. "What's new and different in your life?" I asked. And then added; "Apart from me."

I held the phone away from my ear just a little while her belly-laugh subsided.

"Nice to know you've got a sense of humour after all. I wasn't sure for a while there."

Tina laughed gaily. "Any ideas for your project yet? Just thought I'd ring and check. See if you had any questions or anything like that."

My thoughts came back instantly to my trance image of the dark mole above her shoulder and her black-painted toenails, but I had no intention of asking her. She'd think I was crazy. Whatever my image was in her mind I didn't want to damage it. I might need it later when I told her about my project idea.

"One or two." I said.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not yet." I replied. "I need to crystallise a few aspects in the area of objectives yet.

You'll be the first to know."

"Okay. No problems. Whenever you're ready."

"Thanks." I said.

"Peter. Would you like a visitor? I'm at loose ends for the afternoon if you're not busy.' she asked unexpectedly.

Once again the image of my earlier trance flashed vividly into my mind's eye.

"Sure." I told her. "I've done all I can for today anyway. Give my mind a rest."

"That's great!" she said. "I'll be there in about an forty five minutes. There's something I have to just tidy up, and then I'll be right over. I know where you live."

"Figured you did." I grinned into the mouthpiece. "See you then."

I hung up, then went back and sat down in the lounge, after first making myself a fresh Rum and Coke. I reached over and grabbed the foolscap notepad I always kept handy to the lounge, then took my pen from my pocket. I began making some preliminary notes and jottings about my intended project: aims, objectives, etcetera, then some minor sub-

objectives which eventually correlated back into the achieving of the main aim. By the time I finished it made sense in a round-a-bout sort of way. The main thing was the establishing of the major aim, along with the foundation objectives, each developing logically in their own right, and each being sub-connected with the aim itself: threads above and below and then finishing with the completed aim.

In other words, I had a plan. Granted, it was much of a one in its infancy, but it was a beginning, and, it could only improve from there. All I had to do now was allocate the trance level states to their appropriate objectives. There were five known trance level states: Alpha, Beta, Theta, Delta, Plenary, and Cerebellar, the last two being those of particular interest to me, mainly since so little known research had been done on their existence. I emphasised the word 'known' in my mind as I thought of it. Most of us did research of a private nature in some area of the mind that held a special interest for us. Who knows? There may be waiting to be discovered many more trance level states than those.

* *

As I was re-reading my notes from start to finish for the third time looking for flaws in my logic the doorbell buzzed and drew my focus out and away. I put down the foolscap pad and walked to the door, opening it to a smiling Tina Clark, dressed very casually in a pair of knee-length white summer shorts and a soft pink tank-top with an embroidered picture of a small cat over her left breast. She looked great, I had to admit.

"Hi!" she beamed as she walked past me and into the lounge area. Then she went immediately to the balcony and looked out over the ocean as I always did when first coming into the apartment, simply as a matter of habit. I closed the door and followed her through to stand beside her, breathing the cool, salt air right to the bottom of my lungs, then exhaling it with a long, slow sigh.

She turned to glance at me and grinned at hearing my sigh.

"Makes you glad to be alive. Doesn't it?" I stated matter-of-factly, grinning thinly.

"You must love it here." she said excitedly as she turned her gaze back to infinity and those who were enjoying themselves on the ocean's surface.

"I do." I replied. "I was toying with the idea of moving, but never got very serious about it. I like it here too much, I guess."

"Stay here." Tina agreed, turning around away from me and walking back inside to take a seat in the one I had been occupying. I turned and followed, again. Getting to be a habit, I thought, as I joined her in the single chair opposite.

"Can I get you a drink?" I asked.

"No thanks. I've taken the afternoon off and have plans for this evening. I don't feel like drinking before then. I rarely do during the day anyway, unless it's a special occasion."

"Same here." I agreed. "And today is a special occasion for me, with everything that's happened in the last twenty four hours."

"What do you think of it all so far?" Tina then asked.

I took a deep breath and again let it out slowly, but not loudly.

"I'm happy to have been afforded the time and opportunity, not to mention salary to explore the subject of my choice in the field of my choice." I answered, then grinned.

"Stock answer?" she grinned back. "No really! What do you really feel inside?"

I looked at her carefully, feeling a little sad for what was to come and studying her eyes and features for a few seconds.

"Why does it matter?" I asked quietly.

Tina's smile faded instantly as her gaze locked onto my own.

"It doesn't, I guess." she said ruefully, lowering her gaze from mine. "I just wondered if you were as motivated as I was when it first happened to me."

I felt a good dose of guilt wash over me and was sorry instantly.

"I'm sorry Tina." I apologised sincerely. "I guess I'm still a bit suspicious of everything yet."

"Are you suspicious of me too?" she asked looking up at me.

I thought before answering, then decided to be honest. Time to clear my head and the air.

"A little." I admitted. "You read minds easily. There could be a hidden agenda. I really wouldn't know. And you're here." Then I smiled. "You know, I can't remember the last time a woman who looked like you do graced the presence of my humble abode. Why are you here, really?"

Tina Clark just sat and looked at me: stared or glowered was more like it. Then she lowered her eyes and just looked at the floor. The silence was deafening for a long few seconds. Then she slowly rose to her feet, picking up her handbag as did so.

Boy! Was I ever having a dose of guilt and a half! I sat there and hardened my gaze at her, waiting for her to look at me and say goodbye. She did in the next second. Time to get it over with-the inevitable. Damn!

"Tina." I began. "A moment ago you asked me something. I like you and figured you wanted and deserved my honest answer, which is what you asked for. You can't really get upset about that." I took a breath. "I do have a question for you though, if you'd like to sit down to answer it. Then we can put all this aside and get on with our lives. What do you say?"

She looked at me the entire time I spoke, then sat down again slowly, purse still clutched in her hands and resting on her lap.

"What's your question?" she asked softly, still not looking at me.

"Can I have an honest answer?" I said.

She looked up, her eyes hardening. Good. I wanted her looking straight at me when I voiced a suspicion that had been nagging me since my trance vision earlier.

"Do you have any other personal projects, other than what were listed in the dossier under your name?" I asked quietly, without blinking.

"Why do you ask?" she hedged.

"Is that your idea of an honest answer?" I asked her.

She blinked, her face solemn.

"I...er...I=m conducting some research into several other areas at the moment." she replied.

I hardened my gaze and trapped hers within it, not letting it escape while I spoke my real suspicion.

"Would one of them be thought projection, or something similar?" I voiced, watching for movement in the tiny muscles in her jaw-line.

To my amazement Tina hung her head. I saw the beginnings of a grin before it faded when she looked up, her face once again solemn.

"Before I answer that," she said. "Can you tell me what has happened that has caused you to think that?"

"You have black polish on your toenails which you were not wearing yesterday. And I'd hazard to even guess you have a dark mole above your left shoulder, for starters; not to mention an amazing piece of imagery that could answer every question I might have ever had about redheads." I grinned. "Have I got them all?"

Tina clapped her hands excitedly and squealed like a baby shrieking, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"All but one." she said.

My heart sank a little. I thought the idea had been my own. I knew it had been too good to be true.

"Then it would come to no surprise to you know that the project I thought I'd chosen was the collective unconscious. Would it?" I finished, feeling not very good all of a sudden.

Her eyes stopped laughing, but her lips and mouth still held the grin as she answered.

"No." she said. "It wouldn't. But I was going to tell you."

The sadness of it all washed over my mind and body at the same time. How could I trust anyone in that organisation if I couldn't trust her, the one who had the most contact with me so far, and had recruited me. We had a rapport of sorts, or I thought we did. I'd never know whether my thoughts of the future would be my own, or hers, apart from the nagging problem of her reading my mind. I held her gaze while I ran this thought process by myself for the final act I knew was to come. Then I stood up and walked over to where my cheque book lay on the breakfast bar, and wrote her a cheque to cover the amount of the salary they had paid me which I had banked that morning. I tore the cheque off the stub and turned to see the puzzled look on her face as I handed it to her.

"Thanks, but ... no thanks." I said a little sadly, without overdoing it. It was just how I felt. As if I'd been let down, or my trust had been. "I'll show you out."

I stood aside and waited for her to rise. For a few long seconds she didn't. Her mouth began to open a few times, but each time it shut again: whatever she had been about to say stifled in the infancy of its own birth in her thoughts. For a second I thought her eyes misted, but then they cleared in an instant. Probably concerned about her own job now, I figured, if it had been emotional mist in her eyes. Finally, it dawned on her I was deadly serious. I walked over to the table and picked up the dossier. I wouldn't be needing that now.

"Don't worry about the official secrets act thingo." I told her as she rose and stood, taking the dossier I handed to her. "Just send it to me in the mail and I'll sign it and send it back. I'll show you out now." I didn't feel like looking at her.

I walked her to the door, slightly ahead of her ... for a change, I thought ironically. I opened the door. She passed by me and turned, her eyes still wide open and very deep in surprise at my actions. Her face and expression was unreadable.

"Peter, I..." she began, but I cut her off. I didn't feel like talking about something that was now over before it had begun.

"Have a nice life." I said to her as I began to slowly close the door. "And don't bother calling. My decision is now irreversible."

* * * *

The End Chapter 6 by Mesmer (to be continued)

Standard Disclaimer to remind readers that this Hypnosis/Mind-Control story was written for adults over 18 years of age. If you enjoy this story please email your comments to the much-

appreciated publisher. Thank you - Mesmer

(Continued from" The Mule 6)

The Mule 7

(C) by Mesmer

Chapter 7

*

I pressed the door shut and walked back to the kitchen, fixing another drink. Then I sat down on the outside table on the balcony and began to fix my gaze upon infinity, just beyond the distant ocean, letting my thoughts run out to sea with my gaze, far beyond the horizon and all that lay betwixt and between, including the acute sense of depression that was rapidly consuming my being.

What a let-down, I reflected, as I sipped the cool Rum and Coke. Talk about a fast twenty four hours. Jesus! I groaned as I thought of having to reverse all the things I'd done regarding my own practice earlier in the day. Oh well, I accepted. That was life. I never did have any trouble in accepting the things I couldn't change. I was good at accepting. I had been accepting things all my life. And this, was just another one of those things that had been meant to go that way in my life. I breathed deeply of the fresh salt air, pulling it deeply to the bottom of my lungs, held it for a few seconds, then slowly exhaled my frustrations into the atmosphere.

The phone shrilled politely. I liked that phone, specifically for its polite shrill. It never demanded to be answered, quite content to politely let me know it someone needed my attention whenever I was ready to pick up the receiver. I hauled myself out of the deck chair and walked over to it, thanking it for its politeness, then shook my head at the way I thought of inanimate objects as having personalities. Maybe I'd lost it already.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Mr Wallace." the man's even voice spoke. It was a statement of fact and not a question. And he was right. I was.

"Yes. I am." I said flatly.

"My name is Henderson. We met last night at the reports meeting."

I waited, saying nothing. What was there to say that hadn't already been said? What did they want? A fax?

"Mr Wallace." he began, obviously sick of waiting. "I've just had a rather disturbing call from Tina Clark. She told me the full details of what happened-of what she'd done."

Same answer. Nothing. I waited again as he was. He lost again.

"Mr Wallace. Tina made a very serious mistake. She knows that, and will be severely reprimanded for it. Her actions in her private experiment did not have our sanction, which it must have, in order to avoid situations like this."

Round three, and I intended to win that one too. I did.

"Mr Wallace." I wondered if he was getting sick of the one-sided conversation. I know I was. "I'd like to come and see you-to talk to you and explain what motivated Tina. I know and I understand. That doesn't excuse her actions, but when I explain everything you will. I assure you."

I decided then to let him win the next and final round. After all, he was paying for the call.

"Mr Henderson." I began, my own voice sounding tired and fed up, which it was.

This had been a shit of a day and didn't look like getting any better within the next few minutes. "I appreciate the agenda behind your call, and there are no hard feelings. Only disappointed ones. My decision is irreversible, as I told Tina. If you have nothing further to say, I've got to re-plan my life for the second time in twenty four hours."

"Mr Wallace." he began quickly. "Can't I at least explain Tina's motivation behind her actions?"

"I'm not interested, thanks all the same. Good bye, Mr Henderson." I said, and then hung up the polite phone gently, treating it with the same respect it had always shown me.

Then I decided I needed some fresh air. A walk along the beach sounded just right.

* * *

I'd walked slowly along the beach for about a half an hour, stopping every now and then to ponder a thought before moving slowly on again: kicking the sand every now and then if the thought happened to be a frustrating or depressing one: standing in the cool, refreshing wash of the waves as they broke around and over my bare feet and ankles. I'd always found it very relaxing and calming to do that. My gaze never left the far-off horizon as I walked, just allowing my thoughts to travel wherever they wished. That way the distance involved in the walk never seemed very far to me. Almost a light trance which, in fact, it was. My mind elsewhere while my body did the walking under the control of my subconscious mind. I glanced down at the watch on my right hand, the face of it turned inward on the inside of my wrist for easier glancing without twisting my arm. It was just after three-thirty. The heat had gone out of the sun's rays and it was very nice with the gentle sea breeze on my face as I stopped walking and just stood in the swirling sea water up to my ankles. Time to go back.

I turned slowly without looking up. My gaze dropped from the distant relaxing horizon to the frothy water and bubbles seething around my ankles as another small wave broke over them and my thoughts sank down into the turmoil of the water around my legs..

Then I began the long, slow walk back. I'd only taken a about a dozen steps through the swirling, white frothy cool water when I suddenly became aware of someone standing directly in front of me. I had been so deep in thought I stopped abruptly, my head and eyes rising quickly in slight shock with my thoughts being so far away, deep down in the white froth and tumbling water around my feet, then to be wrenched back to the here and now so quickly.

It was Tina. She just stood looking at me with a lost child, wistful look on her face:

her usually smiling mouth and lips a little down-turned at the corners. My eyes hardened a little, and then relaxed. Live and let live, I thought, wondering and then knowing what she was doing there.

"Have you always been such a deep thinker?" she asked quietly, the distance between us being only a few feet.

"Seems that way." I replied evenly, not venturing any more conversation than that.

"Mind if I walk back with you?" she asked further.

My eyes hardened again. "It's a free beach." I answered.

Then we began to walk through the small breaking waves together, just like a couple, out for a late afternoon stroll who might be talking about or planning their future together.

That thought depressed me. I kicked the sand lightly beneath the water.

"There's a definite pattern to your walking." she said as if talking out loud to herself.

I didn't answer. What was there to say. She was right, so it didn't need talking about.

We continued slowly through the swirling water, each deep in our own thoughts, and with me not caring in the slightest what hers might be. In fact, I resented her being there. I had been enjoying my walk and my thoughts wandering. It helped.

"You fucked it. Now you fix it." she said suddenly, quietly, but positively.

I stopped, surprised at her language, not that I was a prude. She halted beside me. It was just unexpected. That's all. I kept my gaze on my ankles. Then I began to move slowly forward again. What could I possibly say to that. It had been her thought. If she wanted to elaborate, as I knew she did, she would. And then she did, after only a few more steps.

"That's what he told me, and he's right." she said with a sigh. "But I don't know how."

She began to walk slightly ahead of me then until she was about six feet in front, splashing lightly through the small breaking waves with her feet, occasionally kicking the sand with her right foot. Tina wore a different set of clothes to what she had worn earlier in the day when she had been at my apartment. She now wore a loose-fitting white cotton shirt, not tucked in, and tied around the waist in a knot. It was unbuttoned to just the beginning of her cleavage. About one or two inches of brown bare skin showed before the waist-band of her shorts, which were also white and thin, the outline of her brief underwear being clearly visible beneath. She had a nice figure. I had to give her that: firm and tight in all the right places, for someone her age. She stopped abruptly, then continued, her head moving slowly from right to left as if she were shaking it slowly in thought. I wondered really why she was here. I had no intention of changing my decision about working for them. Oh well, I figured.

She might get a relaxing walk for her trouble, if nothing else.

I had closed the distance between us a few steps when she stopped. I was now walking slowly, only a few feet behind her. I couldn't seem to concentrate on the swirling water any more, with my gaze seemingly travelling between the sand at her feet and the gentle swaying movement of her firm buttocks as she walked. Then she changed her direction slightly, walking more deeply into the water and the waves until they rolled gently around her hips. She continued on in that depth for a dozen or so steps before once again changing direction and moving back to the shore until the water moved gently around her feet and ankles once again.

Now my gaze had to contend with her wet shorts being gripped between her buttocks as she walked, which only accentuated clearly the firm shape of her figure. Her underwear I could see now was of the 'g' string variety which left her firm flesh free and unfeathered as they moved within the loose, clinging confines of the wet material of her shorts. I smiled. I guess the sight of her really didn't need that much contending with after all. Then I realised that I'd smiled for the first time I could remember since she'd left my apartment. I shook my head slowly. Where the hell was all of this going? I didn't know, and, I didn't care. Not really.

'You fucked it, now you fix it.' Her statement ran around in my mind suddenly. Was this how she was fixing it? Giving me a wet-shorts exhibition? I smiled. Nice try anyway. Not very original, but certainly creative, and, entertaining-most entertaining indeed.

Finally we left the water's edge and walked slowly back up to the paved walkway which led to my apartment building. She never left my side. We reached the turn-off which would take me through the glass doors and to the elevator. I stopped and turned to look at her, only to find she was staring directly at me. She must have been waiting for me to turn.

"I guess it's good bye." I said with a sigh and a thin smile of politeness.

"It doesn't have to be." she answered softly, looking deeply into my eyes.

I refused to let my gaze have its way and travel down to the still-wet fork of her shorts. My loss, but who cared?

"What's the point?" I said wearily, wishing she would just go.

My hormones were beginning to give me trouble as I continued to wrestle mentally with my gaze and its very strong wishes. It's all about chemistry, I thought, as I won the battle for the moment and held her gaze in mine. Then, as I watched her eyes they twinkled and sparkled. The corners of her mouth turned cheekily upward into a grin I'd expect to see on a fifteen year old who'd just had a secretive thought.

"I was hoping you'd show me just that." she smiled, showing her beautiful teeth as her lips pulled back with her smile.

I took a deep breath and sighed loudly. I didn't need this shit, It was hard enough to accept everything that had happened without her adding insult to injury in thinking I could be swayed by her flaunting her body to get me to change my decision. Jesus!

"Tina." I began wearily. "I'm not changing my mind. You'll have to accept, it as I've already done. This ... A and then my gaze won its battle finally as it travelled quickly down to the wet, clinging material of her shorts which outlined her very shapely centre with very clear definition indeed. Then I immediately regained control again. It wasn't easy. "This isn't going to work." I sighed. "And its beneath you anyway." I finished and turned slowly to go anyway.

"Peter." she said softly. "This, has nothing to do with your decision. I know your decision's been made, and won't be changed. This, has to do with just me ... and you."

I turned back to look at her, searching her eyes for the truth, if it was there at all. I read nothing in the depths of her shining pools of liquid.

"I just wanted to share an experience with you before we went from each other's lives. The right chemistry doesn't come along all that often." she said, seeming genuine as her eyes flicked away and then returned to hold my gaze. "And sometimes, it ... it can be a long wait for when it finally does." She paused to take a breath. "I know it's there, and you do too. I know. I'm not a teenager, and I'm not looking for a husband. And, I don't do one-

night stands. I wait, and I hope. And when it does come along, I have the belief that it was destined to. I guess ... that's the point." she finished softly, her voice trailing off to nothing.

A nice speech, I thought, as I held her gaze, all thoughts of my own wanting to keep travelling downward between her thighs now gone completely. A seemingly genuine speech too. And, she was right. I thought exactly the same way. Quality, not quantity was the password to my hormonal release, on the rare occasion that it happened. And, I had to admit, I had been defeated, by that heart-felt speech, and, a pair of wet and clinging, see-through shorts. I felt that smile of defeat coming long before it arrived. When it did, her face lit up like a Christmas tree with her own broad grin. She linked her arm through mine as if we had been lovers forever, resting her head against my shoulder as we walked inside the building and went upstairs to my apartment.

* * *

By the time the door had closed behind us the mutual chemistry and natural electricity of sensual anticipation had reached its peak in both of us, to be heightened only more so when our lips softly met. I gently leaned her back against the closed door and melted against her softness with my lips, chest, stomach and thighs. My mind and senses tingled all over, as they always did when the chemistry was so right. My senses flamed with the change in my hormones as our yielding, gentle, slightly salty kiss deepened: the electric touch of our tongues in their mutual discovery only served to fan the already seething flames of lust and passion that had been kindled naturally between us, until finally, breathless, we gently ended that remarkable and very wonderful first kiss.

I smiled as I withdrew my senses from the central depths of her deep, milky eyes and stood back, holding her gently by the shoulders at arms length, just drowning in her enraptured gaze. I hadn't felt such a deeply-sensed first kiss, or any kiss, for that matter, for a very long time. I smiled into her flushed face and shining, glistening eyes as she grinned softly back at me.

"Peter." she began to say, but I halted her with my finger gently pressed vertically over my own lips.

Now was not the time for talk of any kind. It would only spoil whatever destiny had in store for both of us, and I didn't want that to happen, feeling no need to analyse or discuss anything other than in the way our bodies and minds would decide through our mutual and natural sensual communication. She exhaled the remaining breath she had been holding when I'd silenced her with my gesture, and breathed again, her lips slightly open as she drew air in a light, panting fashion. My own breath was more than a little heavy itself as I gazed into her eyes. Then I let my hands drop from her shoulders and took her right hand in mine, leading her to the shower as I walked forward, gently pulling her behind me like a schoolgirl.

We took our time in undressing each other, kissing and embracing as we each had our turn, with me having a wonderful time as I peeled down those wet, clinging shorts over her hips and thighs. The "g' type panties came away to reveal the deepest red, and lushest thatch of thick, curly pubic hair I'd ever seen in my life. The flaming red triangle of matted soft down had been trimmed neatly to cater for a very deep bikini line. It took all the internal strength I had to not take her orally to her own pleasure peak right then and there, but I managed it, wondering how she'd do when it became her turn in that area. I needn't have worried. She tantalised me maddeningly, but stayed clear of my centre.

By the time we stood together beneath the gentle spraying jets of cool, yet warm water, my body had risen fully to the occasion. The darkened nipples and areolas of her breasts had also joined my centre in their mutual enjoyment of the anticipated ending to our union when it finally came.

But for now, the time was for pleasuring and for discovering and knowing-deeply, passionately, and fully as we took turns in using our hands, lips and bodies to heighten an already incredibly charged sexual tension between us. By the time we had finished gently padding each other's tingling and glowing bodies dry with the soft towel we had both reached a state of prolonged sensual liberty and freedom, that I, for one, had not had the exquisite pleasure of enjoying for a very long time. So long, in fact, that I honestly couldn't remember when.

As I lay her down on the bed I felt that I was in trance, light-headed, yet very calm and very relaxed, focussed fully on there here and now, yet fully experiencing every and each flowing wave of sensual pleasure as it washed over my mind, body and senses. I rolled gently over her to the natural parting of her warm thighs, and, upon entering slowly her warm, moist body I experienced the exquisite liquid grip of being ensnared by her centre's warmth and slick wetness of arousal. The musky scent of her sexual awakening to my presence I drew deeply into my lungs, feeling it harden the already hard core deeply embedded to the hilt within the confines of her grasping flesh.

Tina moaned in my right ear her acceptance of my full entry. I felt her legs and thighs lift. Then her ankles locked around my lower back as she began to gently rock her thighs in time with my long and slowly, but fully penetrating entries inside her slick and contracting saddle. We were both savouring the experience of minds and bodies joining, I could tell. I began to feel my mind sink further and further down and away from conscious awareness as I allowed my senses to swim freely in the gentle rocking and rolling waves of pleasure that broke over me, one after the other, like the waves I had seen that morning as we=d walked the beach together. It seemed never-ending as my mind and senses sank even more deeply with each kiss of her lips on mine, her mouth encompassing me fully, her tongue with a life and mission of its own: exploring, knowing and enrapturing. Her breasts seemed like two hot and hard irons of fire against my chest as our gentle rocking began to gather its own natural momentum in preparation for the climbing of pleasure's high mountain together, and, in that happening did my conscious mind sink even more deeply into the abyss of our destined joining.

Higher and higher did we climb together, while deeper and deeper did our minds sink into their own very depths, freei