The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The next day, there was now only one thing I cared about and that was to get rid of Spackle. I had everything that I thought I needed. I just needed the bastard to visit.

I played the shave-not shave game in front of the mirror over several days. In addition I occasionally rammed a large dildo up my butt while I masturbated, making sure that Spackle, if he was looking, would be able to see.

I was hoping to let him make the first contact but as nothing seemed to happening I sent him an email and waited.

Master. I don’t know if you live near where I live but I would like to see you. I’ve tried to shave my cock like a good slave but I can’t seem to be able to do it. I thought if you were there to guide me I might be able to. I’m having difficulty thinking about anything else and now that my friend has been returned to his former state, I am lonely and I would like to have a big beefy stud like you give me direction. I remember our sessions together and I am sure that you are the man for me. Please contact me as soon as you can.

Your Slave, Bill

In the meantime, Rod didn’t call me or try to get in touch with me. This saddened me and I hoped our friendship could survive this test. I missed my furry friend and not only for the sex. As I’ve said before we had become like an old married couple and our separation was like a death to me.

Two days later, I got a response from Spackle.

Slave Bill. I was surprised to get your email. I don’t usually see my Cigar Monitor members in the real world, however I’m willing to make an exception. As it happens, I will be in your area next Friday. I will drop by at 6:00 PM and I will show you how to be a proper slave and to serve me. If it works out then perhaps we could make it a permanent relationship. Plan to be busy that evening and tell all your friends and family that you wont be available.

Spackle

Kazing! Bait set and the Webmaster sniffing at the periphery.

In preparation for Spackles visit I had bought a Taser, handcuffs and leg irons and some strong nylon rope. I also had an abundant supply of duct tape in case I needed it. Spackle might not be the beefy stud he was in his cyber-domain, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

I had trouble sleeping over the next few nights, waiting for Friday to come. I tried to imagine every conceivable situation that I could think of. I wanted to be prepared for anything.

That evening I waited patiently for Spackle to arrive. I placed the Taser on the sideboard near the door as well as can of pepper spray. I also leaned a baseball bat against the wall, in case the first two options didn’t pan out.

At 5:30 PM I heard a knock at the door. I looked to my watch and was freaked that this may be Spackle. I grabbed my Taser and held it behind my back. I looked through the peephole and saw a vaguely familiar face. “Shit!” I said. It was Jim from work, the last guy that I offered up as a candidate. His hair was shorter and he was wearing a leather jacket. “Shit, shit, shit! Not now!”

I opened the door and Jim stood there smiling at me. He was carrying a backpack over his shoulder.

“Jim! Look now’s not a good time to talk. Can we meet at the office next week? I’m kind of expecting someone.”

Jim ignored me and said, “How’s it going Sport?”

As soon as he said that, I felt ice cold. The Taser dropped to the floor behind me and I couldn’t move. I suddenly realized that Jim was Spackle! He somehow had placed a post-hypnotic suggestion into my subconscious. All he had to do was say ‘Sport” and I lost all voluntary control of my body.

Jim saw the Taser bounce as it hit the floor and he smiled and shook his head.

“Well, well, well. You really were expecting me weren’t you ‘Sport’. I figured you might try something like this. In fact I kind of engineered it hoping you would invite me over. Lets go in shall we?”

Jim/Spackle walked past me into my apartment, picked up the Taser, and bid me to follow him. While he walked he said, “You played the game fairly well for a semi-retarded fool. However the game is over and I win.”

All I could do is blink at him and stare. I was sure he could see the fury in my eyes and he said, “Don’t be mad Bill. You actually did fairly well for a complete idiot. Not as good as some and better than others. I’ve been watching you for a few weeks. In fact, ever since you came to the detention centre for the first time, pleading with me to make your friend straight again.

I was surprised and gleeful at seeing my own boss show up for detention. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Operating the Cigar Monitor Website is expensive in time and money. You have no idea how expensive. Your presence in my domain gave me an opportunity to try and re-programmed you—to try and persuade you to join me. You were already a cigar/bear fetishist before you entered my site so I figured all you needed was a little ‘push’. If I succeeded, I would be able to access your family’s wealth and good name. I just needed to test your… susceptibility.”

As I stood there, mouth agape, he said to me angrily, “Strip!”

As I slowly took off my T Shirt and jeans I felt helpless. I tied to fight his commands but I was totally in his control. He watched me take off my clothes like a predatory animal.

“It was you however that provided me with a way to find out if you were Spackle material. When you asked me to turn your friend straight again I figured that if your ethics were plastic enough to allow you to convert three perfectly normal straight men to my – no, our side, then you could make a useful colleague. Of course to convince you of my good intentions I actually needed to turn your friend straight again, or at least as straight as I could. It actually was an interesting challenge.”

As Jim/Spackle continued, I was balancing precariously on one leg as I pulled off my socks.

“Anyway, I purposefully surfed for straight porn at work in order that you would have to talk to me. I wanted to meet you in person. It worked. Then I pretended to be an asshole knowing that you would give me the URL to my own Web Page, and that worked. I figured that if you had the balls to go to work everyday with a man whom you had allowed to be changed into something he wasn’t…then you would make a perfect dupe.”

Finished stripping, I stood before Jackal with my arms by my side.

“However imagine my surprise when you asked me about shutting down a ‘Web Site’! You were trying fuck with me!”

Jim/Spackle laughed and then turned his full hateful gaze at me, “I consider that a traitorous act.”

He stood close to my chest and looked up at me. All I could think of was that he was a short little shit.

“I was willing to make you a partner but now all your good for is being my slave.”

He turned around and opened his backpack. His back was turned to me and I heard him say sadly, “No matter. I’ll still get what I want. Only you wont be able to enjoy it. By the time I’m finished with you, your only thought will be of how you can please me.”

The hurt sound in his voice led me to believe that he cared for me, even loved me. He wanted me to be his willing companion.

He turned around and held in his hand a ball gag with a 3/4 inch hole drilled through it. He went behind me and strapped it in place. It fit snuggly in my mouth. He then placed a lighted cigar in the hole. I breathed in the smoke gratefully, however he then placed small filters or valves in each nostril. Once in place the only allowed me to exhale through my nose.

“OK Sport. I will allow you to grunt and groan and even struggle for breath but you will be unable to speak loudly or scream.

Being sort of set free, I started to panic for air. By stretching my mouth extra wide I found I could draw in enough air to prevent myself from passing out. However with every breath, I drew in a lot of smoke that I was unable to expel completely.

Then he bent down and strapped legs irons around my ankles. Instead of a chain connecting the irons, a single length of steel connected the two shackles.

“Now go into the can.”

I did as he said, shuffling my feet as I moved toward the bathroom. Clinking sounds emanated from my feet.

I stood in front of the mirror and Jackal said, “Look at yourself Bill. You look pretty hot don’t you? In fact your getting really turned on by seeing yourself in this current condition.”

After he said this I couldn’t prevent my dick from getting hard. It stood up to attention like a good solider.

“You made a big deal about not being able to shave your cock and balls. Shave them now.”

With no will of my own I ran the sink taps and reached for my shaving cream. I lathered up cock and balls and reached for my razor. Smoke from my cigar kept rising up into my eyes making my eye water. It also made it hard to see what I was doing.

I grabbed my erect cock with my left hand and slowly dragged the razor down the length of my cock. I was shocked that it felt different than doing it in Jackals lair. Then I repeated the strokes until my dick was bare. Then I pulled up my dick and reached under to shave my balls.

After I had finished shaving my pubes I wiped of the excess shaving cream and I applied a liberal dose of after-shave. The skin on my genitals was now hyper sensitive and they burned.

“Now shave your head.”

Dutifully, I lathered up my head and shaved my pate clean.

“Now shave your chest. I looked down at my torso and rubbed the hairs. I didn’t have as hairy a chest as Rod’s but it helped define me a bear. I didn’t want to do this, but between gasps for air and tears running down my cheeks, I lathered up my chest and began shaving it in long even strokes.

“Now look at yourself.”

I tilted my head up and had a look at the new me. My cock looked, well younger. I don’t fully recall what my genitals looked like without pubes but I imagined that they looked something like this.

The occasional blood that welled up from the cuts and nicks on my head contrasted the overall shininess of my now bald skull.

Equally my chest, now denuded of its sparse forest of manly hairs, looked naked and fragile.

Over all I looked younger and I hated it. I groaned loudly and tried to form words but I couldn’t. I started sobbing.

Sensing my discomfort Jim/Spackle said, “Yes I know. You look like a little girly man don’t you? Later, when I have you shave off your beard, you will know that you no longer are a man. Now bend over.”

I did as he commanded, happy not to look at myself anymore. Then he picked up a large cigar and rammed it up my ass.

“Stand up.” As I did I could feel the cigar crack and break in my rectum.

“Now go to the living room.”

I walked mechanically into the room and stood by the couch.

Jim/Spackle then spread a plastic tarp on the floor and told me to get down on my hands and knees. He took the cigar out of my ball gag and I quickly breathed in a gasp of fresh air. However he soon replaced it with a fresh cigar and I was forced to draw in what air I could.

While he worked he said, “You’re probably wondering about my Web Name; Spackle. Well Spackle is a wonderful product that covers over a multitude of sins. However from now on you can call me Jackal. Get it? Jim plus Spackle equals Jackal.”

Then he undid my shackles and got some thin white cotton rope from his backpack. He knelt down behind me, grabbed my right ankle and forced it up until my heel was touching my ass. He tied my leg in place. Then he did the same to the left leg. He moved around to my front and grabbed my right hand brought it up to my shoulder. He then passed some rope under my armpit and tied my hand in place. He repeated the procedure on my left arm. After he was finished I was left ‘standing’ on my knees and elbows. The aching in my joints became intense and I tried to relive the pressure. It also started moaning and crying loudly.

“There you are. You look like some sort of deformed dog. Roll over on your back Sport.”

I did as he directed. It was difficult to maneuver with my arms and legs tied in this way.

“Ah the perfect submissive doggie position. You must recognize that I’m the Alpha male around here now, aren’t I?”

My sobbing was louder now and I nodded yes.

“You see I have a plan for. You’re going to become one my hooded men. Think of it, you’re going to help me alter the minds of countless individuals. The hooded men were all once hairy bear-men like you. But I changed them so that they could never be that way again. I’m going to do the same to you.”

He went over to the backpack and rummaged around.

“Like them, you were a bad dog, and you know what we do to bad dogs.”

He turned a round and had a scalpel in his hand and a bottle of disinfectant in the other.

My eyes went wide and I moaned and cried a lot louder.

“That’s right we fix them.”

All I could do was wave my stumps in the air and cry louder and pleaded with my eyes.

Then I heard the front door open and Sgt. Sergeant stood in the hallway.

“Bill?” he said, “What’s going on I heard noises…?” Then Sgt. Sergeant recognized that this was a bad situation and began to draw his gun.

Jackal turned and hissed at him. He dropped the scalpel and reached into his back pocket and fired the Taser at Greg before he could point his weapon.

Greg collapsed to the ground.