The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Hours ticked slowly by after my Master left. I watched the clock on the wall. The sun came up, but I couldn’t move from the kitchen doorway. It was like my own body wouldn’t do what I told it to.

My mouth was dry and I really wanted a drink. But I couldn’t leave my spot in the doorway. My Master said he’d come back. Where was he? I could see it get dark outside the windows. I was hungry. And I wanted my Master to come back.

It was 7:35 when the front door opened. the light switched on.

“Slave, look at you! Holding up that doorway. How do you feel?”

I tried to answer, but my tongue wouldn’t work. Master walked to where I could see him. He was smiling.

“Unfreeze your tongue. How do you feel?”

“I-I can’t move, sir.”

“Unfreeze your body. Sure you can. Come here, boy.”

I walked toward him. My legs felt stiff. Master kissed me and stroked the back of my neck. “You’re a good slave. You know you can only do what I tell you. Go shower, boy. But don’t shave. I’ll fix you something to eat.”

I walked into the bathroom and stepped into the shower. The hot water felt good on my aching arms and legs. I soaped up and wanted to jerk off, but Master hadn’t said I could. I dried off, pulled on a pair of white socks like Master likes, and walked into the living room.

Master was waiting for me. “Kneel and close your eyes, slave.”

I obeyed. I felt something around my neck...

“Open your eyes, my pet. How’s my good dog?”

Dog-craig barked.

“Give me your paw.” Dog-craig held out his right paw and I pulled a sock over it. Then I did his left paw. A month ago this sweet boy I was chatting with on the Internet would never have believed I could have him so under control that he would be living as a pet dog for me. Soon. Very soon.

“There’s a bowl of hamburger for you in the kitchen, boy. Go eat.”

Dog-craig scampered out of the room, his balls hanging between his legs. That gave me an idea. I walked into Craig’s bedroom and opened the closet. Sure enough there was a pair of workboots on the floor. I picked one up and removed the rawhide lace. Then I went to check Craig’s messages.

Again the machine read 0. The week was half over. Could Craig Matthews simply disappear? Would no one notice?

Dog-craig returned and sat at my feet, peering up at me.

“Lie down, dog.”

Dog-craig flopped on his side in a ball. I stroked his chest. “Good dog. Roll over.” He flipped onto his back with his arms and knees in the air. “My shoes are tight.”

His face went slack.

I tugged on the boy’s balls and began to slowly wrap them in the rawhide shoelace, pulling them down from his limp dick. When I was done I knotted it. “1...2...3.”

Dog-craig began to pant again.

“Sit, boy.” He did, and I stroked his hair affectionately. His beard was filling in. It was good that his dogtraining still worked. But I couldn’t stay and play tonight. “Sorry, pal, I’ll be back tomorrow for you. Why don’t you get hard right now and stay that way until tomorrow?”

I watched as his cock lengthened and pulled against the rawhide around his balls.

“Be a good dog.”

He barked.

I turned out the lights and left.

Friday Dog-craig was lying on the floor waiting for me. I was later than usual. It was well after dark. And I had something new with me.

“Wanna go for a walk, boy?”

Dog-craig panted and whimpered. His beard had grown in nicely. He looked all furry and cute. I took out my camera and snapped a picture to add to my collection.

“Come here, dog.”

He dog-walked to me. His stiff rod bounced against his belly as he trotted. I pulled a leather leash out of my bag and attached it to his collar. Then I pulled out a leather thong with two snaps and dressed him in it. This late in the dark I didn’t expect anyone to see us behind his apartment house, but as long as he was covered we’d be all right.

“Heel, boy.” I jerked the leash.

We walked out of his apartment and did a few laps around the yard. He barked several times. I decided to push things a bit. I picked up a stick and tossed it across the yard. “Fetch, dog!”

Dog-craig scurried across the yard, retrieved the stick with his teeth, and returned to my side. We repeated this several times before he was panting heavily, his chest heaving and glistening in the moonlight.

I decided to take him back inside.

In his kitchen I poured him a new bowl of water and let him take a long drink. While he was lapping from the bowl I went into the living room, kicked off my shoes and stripped off my own shirt, pants, and boxers, tossing them on the couch.

Dog-craig stood in the kitchen doorway staring at me, waiting as I put on a condom.

“My shoes are tight, boy.” While I lubed myself and his ass, I spoke softly and soothingly to my slave. “You’ve always wanted your Master inside you, slave. You know that. And you’ve been hard for days. You know you would like it doggy-style.” I grinned. “Now’s your chance. Relax yourself, boy. I’ll go easy on you. At first. 1...2...3.”

I slowly spread his ass and approached it with my rod. He whimpered as I slowly, slowly, oh-so-slowly slid inside him. I reached for his leash and wound it around my hand, pulling his head back toward me.

About halfway inside I began to work myself against him, slowly at fist, then faster, thrusting in and out of this wonderful dog slave of mine.

Dog-craig panted and whimpered and moaned. I reached around him with my free hand and began stroking his stiff cock. Faster and faster we built and as I felt the familiar point of no return I commanded “Cum, boy!”

Dog-craig exploded on his own chest, and floor, as I rode the waves of cumming inside him. I released his leash and he collapsed to the floor.

“Good boy,” I said. “My shoes are tight.”

I left Dog-craig in a puddle of his own cum and took a quick shower. Once I was cleaned up and dressed I stroked his hair. He looked so peaceful. I removed the collar. “You’re my good boy,” I whispered next to his ear. “1...2...3.”

I looked up at my Master, wondering why he’d asked me to kneel. But I wasn’t kneeling. And I was sticky. And my ass felt sore. And I had socks on my hands.

“You may stand, slave.”

I did slowly. My knees stung.

“You’re getting used to that position, boy. Good.”

Master bent down. “You must’ve scraped your knee while we were outside. Go shower, boy. But don’t shave. Come back when you’re fixed up.”

I took a long hot shower. There was something squeezing my balls, but Master hadn’t said I could remove it, so I left it. I dried, put on socks, and returned to him.

“Slave, that rawhide got wet. Do you know what happens when rawhide dries? It shrinks. Maybe we’ll leave that on awhile.” He smiled at me. “You must be hungry. You’re losing weight. But you look good. You’ll eat tomorrow.”

He felt my balls. “That’s already drying. You should feel it soon.”

My balls did feel like they were being squeezed. I moved my legs apart.

“So you do feel it, boy. Freeze your feet.”

I suddenly couldn’t lift my feet from the floor to move them any further apart. I began to moan. The squeezing no longer felt good. It began to hurt.

“Unfreeze, boy.” Master unwrapped me. “I just wanted to hurt you a little, not do permanent damage.” He smiled at me.

“Boy, I should leave you. I have a big day planned for us tomorrow. Where can I leave you for tonight?” Master opened the closet door. “Step into the closet, slave.”

I did.

“Freeze your feet. Oh, and your tongue. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I tried to say “Yes, sir.” but it came out sounding wrong.

Master closed the closet door. I heard the front door open and shut.

But I couldn’t come out of the closet.

The closet door opened and Master stood in front of me.

“Unfreeze your feet. Follow me, boy.” Master led the way into the bathroom. “Get in the shower, boy.”

I peeled off my socks and stood in the shower. Master turned on the water. It hit me full-blast on the chest. Ice cold.

“Soap yourself, boy. And rinse off.”

I did and stepped out of the shower. Master handed me a towel to dry off with. He led the way to the kitchen and pulled a chair from the table. “Sit, slave.”

I sat on the chair.

“Freeze your arms and legs. Close your eyes. Freeze them shut.”

Everything went dark. I couldn’t move. I could feel Master dumping something over my head. It was cold and it ran down the back of my neck. He played with my hair for awhile. It was nice.

Something began to buzz and I realized Master was shaving my face. After awhile he pinched at my eyebrows. My head was beginning to sting.

I sat there unable to move, but not really wanting to. I knew my Master was standing beside me. I liked that.

“Unfreeze your arms and legs. Stand, slave. Give me your hand.”

Master led me forward a ways. From the coldness under my feet I could tell we were in the bathroom. When it felt wet I guessed I was back in the shower. The water was warm this time when it hit me.

“Shower, slave,” Master commanded. “When you are dry, wait here.”

I washed my hair, then began soaping my body. It was harder without being able to see. When I finished I toweled off and waited in the dark.

Master began playing with my hair. He stroked my cheek. Then he turned my head. “Your left ear is numb, boy.” I couldn’t tell what he was doing, but I knew my Master was working on my ear.

“Your ear is no longer numb, boy.

Ow. It was throbbing. What was going on? Why did Master hurt me?

“My shoes are tight. Unfreeze your eyes, slave.”

I opened my eyes. Master stood in front of me. “Get dressed in these, boy.”

I pulled on clothes as he handed them to me. White socks. Tighty-whiteys. A white A-shirt. Blue jeans. Very, very tight, blue jeans.

Master reached down and cupped my balls in his hand through the jeans. “Nice fit, slave.”

He handed me a leather belt which I fastened. He then fastened leather cuffs around each of my wrists. A metal loop stuck off each of them.

“Slave, close your eyes.”

I did.

“When I count three you will awaken. And you will be my slave. Craig Matthews will not exist for you. As you think of Craig leaving and becoming slave your cock will begin to lengthen. By the time you’re hard you will have forgotten Craig...”

My dick twitched. It pressed against the tight jeans.

“Craig Matthews is someone you’ve never heard of. He’s a boy as unreal to you as anyone you’ve never met. You no longer recognize that name...”

My cock was straining to grow against the tighty-whiteys.

“You can’t even think of who Craig Matthews might be. You will no longer answer to that name. It will no longer have meaning for you...”

My cock was rock-hard, strapped to my thigh by the denim. Who was my Master talking about?

“Do you know Craig Matthews?”

“Who, sir?”

“Craig Matthews,” Master repeated.

“I don’t know him, sir. Should I, sir?”

“No. No, boy, you shouldn’t. Do you know your name?”

“Slave, sir!” I said happily. I was glad to know the answer to one of Master’s questions!

“When you open your eyes you will see yourself in the mirror for the first time. This is what slave looks like. 1...Craig Matthews is gone. 2...you are slave. 3.”

I blinked and squinted in the light at my reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. My blonde hair stood spiky on my head. My eyebrows arched over my blue eyes. The gold loop glittered beside my long sideburns. My face was shaven smooth. My wife-beater and jeans clung to my body like a second skin. I was a lucky slave. My Master liked the way I look. That’s why he chose me.

“This is how you will dress, slave.”

“Yes, Master.”

Master knelt in front of me. “That’s some package you’ve got there, boy.” He fastened leather cuffs with metal rings—like the ones on my wrists—on my ankles.

“Slave, I am going to take you to a very special place tonight. It’s a bar where Masters and slaves go. But there are two rules before we leave here. You may only speak when spoken to. And you must obey me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir, Master!”

“That’s my good slave. You know my commands must be obeyed. Follow me to the car.”

I followed my Master out of the apartment and down the driveway. When we reached the car he stopped and unlocked the trunk.

“Slaves do not ride with their Masters unless they earn the privilege. Get in.”

I slowly climbed into the trunk. Master pushed my head down and closed the lid. It was dark. The car started and drove for awhile. It was bumpy and we drove fast. When the car stopped my Master opened the trunk. My legs felt a little stiff.

“Get out, slave. We’re here.”

I followed Master to the door. He paid a large man and we walked in.

Master led the way through all the men. They were dressed all sorts of ways. Some wore leather pants, some all leather, some cut-offs, some were bare-chested. None of them looked as good as my Master in his jeans and jean jacket.

Master stopped on the dance floor and we began to grind to the thumping bass music. My cock throbbed against my jeans as Master rubbed against me. After awhile Master turned and walked deeper into the bar. He led the way through a door.

He pulled a leather collar from his pocket and fastened it around my neck.

I slipped to the floor. My mouth opened and I began to pant as Master stroked my hair.

“Good dog. Good dog. Here’s your moment, boy.”

Master pushed open another door and led the way into a room.

“Sit, boy,” I commanded.

Dog-craig sat.

“So, this is your new slave, Christopher. He appears well-trained.”

The voice belonged to a man who was now known only as Leatherman. He and I had studied hypnosis together before he stopped using his real name and began exploring his love of leather. He owned this bar, and kept it a safe haven for men and their boys.

“I’m still working with him. He’s made amazing strides,” I said.

“I was watching you on the monitors.” Leatherman gestured to the wall of video screens then scratched behind Dog-craig’s ears.

“Show him off.”

I smiled at Leatherman. I knew he was dying to see what my slave could do. I leaned over and whispered slave’s trigger. “My shoes are tight.” No sense revealing all my secrets to Leatherman.

“Slave, Leatherman wants to see you perform. When I count three there will be only one thing in the world you want to do. You will think of nothing else. You must clean my boots.” I unlatched the collar from his neck, then added, “With your tongue. 1...2...3.”

Slave immediately began to lick my boots. He went at them with a mission. It was as if his very existence depended on licking my boots clean.

I stood talking to Leatherman as my slave entertained him. Leatherman had a thing for boots, which I knew. Honestly, the sight of slave spit-shining my boots didn’t do much for me, though seeing him down on his hands and knees following orders was enough. Leatherman, however, was fascinated.

“Christopher, you have a rare gift. Perhaps you’d consider selling him to me?”

“No, this one’s mine.”

“I’d pay generously.”

I shook my head. “This one’s special.”

Leatherman nodded. “Would you consider training a boy for me?”

I didn’t respond immediately. That might be interesting. My slave could help. It would be a rush to have two slaves for a time, too.

“Well?”

I crossed my arms. “You’d have to find a suitable subject. And I’d have to meet him before I’d even consider it. And he can’t know why he’s meeting me.”

Leatherman’s face lit up. “Excellent! I’ll begin the search tonight.”

“I’m not guaranteeing anything until I meet your candidate.”

Leatherman wasn’t paying attention. He was watching slave practically devour my boots.

“That’s good, slave,” I said. I took a step back. The black leather shone brightly. Leatherman nodded approvingly.

I bent to refasten the collar and whispered slave’s trigger. “My shoes are tight.”

Already Dog-craig had returned.

“Slave, you will not remember anything that happened in this room with Leatherman. 1...2...3.”

“Goodnight, Christopher.” Leatherman patted my ass. I straightened up immediately. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

“Let me know what you find.” I shut the door behind me. In the anteroom I removed Dog-craig’s collar.

I stood and stretched. My mouth felt dry and my tongue was rough and sore.

“How about a drink before we leave, boy?”

“Yes, Master.”

I followed him to the bar. Master ordered two beers. We drank. He ordered two more, but commanded me to drink them both. I was beginning to feel a little strange when Master said, “You’re thirsty for another, boy.”

I drank a fourth beer before Master led the way out to the car. He opened the trunk and I climbed in.

“Good boy,” he said, then closed the lid.

I felt a little dizzy while the car bumped along in the dark. In a little while the lid reopened and Master led the way back into the apartment. He was carrying a length of rope.

“Lie on your stomach, boy.”

I obeyed.

“You had quite a bit of beer tonight, boy. How do you feel?”

“Funnnny, sirrr.”

“You shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.” Master laughed. “Let your body go limp.”

Master began feeding the rope through the loops on the leather cuffs around my wrists. Then he laced it through the cuffs on my ankles. He pulled the rope tighter and tighter until my feet and hands met in the air behind me. Then he knotted the rope.

“Slave, you’ve gotten drunk and hogtied tonight! You were very good. Leatherman was impressed with you. This is your reward. How do you like that, boy?”

I moaned. “It’s nice, Massser.”

“Freeze your tongue. It’s late. You pleased me tonight, slave. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I moaned again.

“One last thing. That beer will probably go right through you. But your rock hard cock will keep you from urinating. You will not relieve yourself until I tell you to. Understand, boy?”

My “Yes, sir!” sounded like another moan.

The lights went off and the door closed.