The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

VI.

The end of the school year was approaching, and with it final exams. The grades of the Sig Lams had been slipping, and the Grand Master did not want the frat to come to the attention of the Greek Council. With help from his allies, Sig Lam officers Lance and John, he arranged for help from the “academic” frat Gamma Kappa. One by one, they captured and “reprogrammed” the Gammas. At their next meeting, the hypnotized nerds had voted secret changes into their fraternity bylaws, making their members personally obligated to Sig Lam brothers. Any Gamma would have to help any Sig Lam whenever he was asked to, in any way. After the meeting, the Gammas forgot that it had ever been otherwise. They had ALWAYS been obligated to the Sig Lams.

Soon, the Gamma Kappas were spending all their spare time helping the Sig Lams get ready for their finals. However, while it had not been part of the Grand Master’s plans, the occasional Sig Lam would take advantage of the GKs’ artificial feelings of obligation to obtain more personal services from them. Mason, a built but otherwise average-looking sophomore member of the baseball team, soon had Ken and Gary, two GKs, helping him not only with his studies, but also doing his laundry, keeping his room straightened out, helping with his personal finances. Ken, as a senior, had the additional job of keeping Mason’s refrigerator stocked with beer and the cabinet loaded with harder stuff.

This arrangement worked fine until one day, when Mason brought Jenny, his beautiful big-titted blonde girlfriend, to his room for the evening. Ken and Gary, finishing their evening duties when Mason and Jenny arrived, couldn’t help stealing glances at Jenny. Since they hadn’t had time for sex or even for beating off during the weeks of their service to Mason, they found it physically difficult to hide their magnified horniness. And Jenny, somewhat bored with Mason’s single-minded attitude towards her, noticed Ken and Gary. While Ken was not an athlete, he was tall, with striking good looks and longish, rich chestnut hair. Gary was shorter, also good looking, with curly blond hair, and sporting an obviously superior package through his tight slacks. And both of them were quite a bit smarter than Mason.

Even after a few shots of whiskey and several beers, Mason saw what was going on. Jenny’s attention was being diverted to Ken and Gary, while they were doing their best not to ogle her, but failing. Feelings of jealousy began to well up in the jock’s somewhat lubricated brain, and he felt his chances of getting any from Jenny that night were slipping. Mason was about to order Ken and Gary to leave, but then he had a better idea. He leaned back on the couch, stretching his legs in front of him.

“So, Jen, you like my two friends, huh. Too bad they’re queer.” This was untrue, he knew, and Ken was about to protest. Mason interrupted him. “Ken, strip to your underwear and then stand at attention. Now!” Ken, unable to stop himself, began to remove his clothes as quickly as he could. Gary, realizing what was happening, bolted for the door, but was caught by Mason’s command: “Gary! Strip! Now!” To Jenny’s astonishment, Gary turned and also tore off his clothes. Humiliated, hardons withered in fear, Ken and Gary stood at ramrod attention before Mason, who was lounging on the couch and smirking.

“Watch how they bone up for each other. Hold hands and bone yourselves up again!” commanded Mason. Ken’s left hand grabbed Gary’s right hand. With their free hands, they each jerked themselves to full attention, which didn’t take long. Jenny had to laugh despite herself. Obviously these two WERE queer, getting off on each other and obeying every one of Mason’s commands. She of course had no idea of the mental rewiring that forced them to obey her jock boyfriend. She was getting somewhat excited, however, seeing how just the force of Mason’s commands compelled obedience from these two good-looking guys. Obviously he was much more of a man than they were.

Time to fuck these guys up completely, and remove them from competition, thought Mason. “OK, Ken and Gary, here are your orders. Whenever you two are seen in public together from now on, I want you to be holding hands. Ken, whenever you see someone that gets you sexually excited, guy or girl, you’ll feel the need to rub Gary’s big cock and balls through his pants. Gary, when YOU get excited, you’ll want to run your hands and face through Ken’s hair. In front of everyone! Do you both understand?”

Horrified, the two said nothing. “UNDERSTAND, faggots?” growled Mason. “Yes, sir,” both Ken and Gary said meekly. “Also, you guys are only allowed to cum WITH EACH OTHER, preferably with other guys watching. I don’t care if you want to or not, sooner or later the pressure will make you do it. And you can’t tell anyone I did this to you. Now get out of here!”

In a headlong rush to obey the order, Ken and Gary raced out the door without retrieving their clothes, clad only in their boxers. At the door, they grabbed each other’s hands again, and raced out of Sig Lam to the GK house. Fortunately, there were few people on the way to notice. When they got to their room, they looked at each other fearfully, wondering how they got into this situation. Then, their long-term sexual frustration got the better of them, and they started to think about Jenny, her smile, her tits. Gary’s hand absent-mindedly reached for Ken’s thick, luscious hair, and Ken’s hand wandered over to caress Gary’s 9-inch cock through his boxers which came instantly to attention. It didn’t take long for months of pent-up tension to release itself in the form of load after load of cum. Somehow, they didn’t notice that they had left their door open, and were being ogled by several of their fellow GKs, some of whom had fantasized about these two for months, and were now openly jerking off to the show...

VII.

Back at Sig Lam, Dom had a problem. His brother Tom was now permanently chained to Dom’s bed, naked except for a leather hood with holes for the eyes, nose, and mouth. All he could reach from the length of his chain was the twins’ exercise equipment, his dog bowl, and the bathroom. Abused constantly, forced continuously to eat and work out, forbidden from even speaking in Dom’s presence, Tom had been reduced to near-animal status, worshipping his brother, totally dependent on Dom for the feedings, beatings, and orders he had now grown to need.

But now Dom had to spend a weekend away from the school on family business. He obviously couldn’t take Tom with him, but he couldn’t leave him there alone either. Someone had to feed, abuse, and order the dependent Tom around, keeping up the training without pause.

After some thought, Dom invited over Gabe, a fellow swim-team member who lived at Gamma Kappa. Gabe was small in stature—only 5′5″—but nicely muscled and very fast in the water. With good strength relative to his small frame, and a fierce determination, Gabe did well in speed events. Gabe had curly dark hair that fell over his eyes. Some team members shaved their hair completely for speed, but Gabe had not done this, and he had no need to do it on the rest of his smooth body.

As Gabe entered the twins’ room, he noticed with some surprise the chained, hooded Tom kneeling by the only bed in the room. “Gabe, you remember my brother, don’t you?” said Dom.

“Yeah, I wondered what happened, and why he left the team. I see he’s gone through some changes.”

Dom chuckled. “Yeah, just a few. He’s almost like a lower form of life now. He depends on me for most things. And now I have to leave town for a few days. I need your help. Will you take over for me for the weekend?”

Gabe shuddered, but the request came from a Sig Lam and so had to be honored. “What would I have to do?”

“Well, he needs almost constant abuse when someone’s around. When he’s alone he’ll just work out pretty much all the time. He needs to be fed to help increase his strength and body mass. Plus, he needs a steady stream of orders or he won’t know what to do.”

“Abuse him?” Gabe was horrified. “But he’s a Sig Lam. He’s my superior. I couldn’t do anything to hurt him.”

“Nah, he’s not a Sig Lam anymore, he’s not even a student. He dropped out, or rather I dropped him out, to make him into a full-time slave.”

“But how could I push him around? Look at those muscles. He works out all the time. He’s much stronger than I am. He’s stronger than you! Why wouldn’t he just overpower me?”

“He’s completely under my control. Watch. Tom! Come here!”

Tom came crawling over to where Dom and Gabe stood. He gazed up admiringly at his godlike brother, awaiting his next order. It felt so good to be ordered around by such a superior man.

Dom gave him a swift kick to his face. A bit of blood trickled from his lip. At the same time, Gabe noticed Tom was getting an erection from the abuse, without even touching his cock.

“Listen, you piece of shit. This is Gabe. Remember?” Tom grunted. Somewhere in the back of Tom’s mind came a memory of someone named Gabe, but it was not important. Only Dom was important. “I’m going away for a few days, and I want you to think of Gabe as you think of me.” This information came as a thunderclap to Tom. Suddenly he noticed that next to Dom stood a fellow god, to be worshipped and obeyed. He secretly wished that the new god would kick him too.

Dom continued feeding information to Tom. “Gabe is much stronger than you, so he’ll be pushing you around just like me. He has a grip like steel that makes you powerless. Until I get back, he’ll tell you what to do and you must follow his orders.” The programming was having an effect not just on Tom, but also on Gabe, who from Dom’s words was now feeling extremely powerful and aggressive.

Dom went to the closet and pulled out a pair of cleats. “Here’s a pair of my “walking across Tom” shoes. I know they’re too big for you, but they don’t have to fit perfectly, just cause pain.” Tom looked on excitedly as Gabe donned the shoes. “Tom, horse!” Immediately, Tom went up on hands and knees. “Climb on!” Tom told Gabe, handing him a riding crop. Gabe clambered onto Tom’s back, and smacked Tom hard on the ass with the crop as he crawled around the room whinnying like a horse. Tom felt the pressure from his new god’s hard cock on his back as he crawled. It excited him immensely.

“All right, I’m sure you’ll do fine. I’ve written out his diet and feeding schedule here. In this part of the closet I have the whips, sex toys, whatever you need to keep the abuse going. Just keep up the pressure and don’t do any permanent damage, physically anyway. Enjoy!” Before Gabe could ask any more questions, Dom grabbed his bag and left. Gabe was briefly stumped as to what to do. Then Tom crawled into the closet, pulled a 12″ dildo off the shelf with his teeth, and came back to Gabe, looking hopeful. Gabe, growing hard, realized what he had to do to help Dom. The evening began...

After giving Tom an extensive abuse and exercise workout, Gabe turned off the lights, stripped, collapsed in Dom’s bed and fell instantly asleep. In the dark room, Tom lay at the foot of the bed, filled with feelings of worship and adoration. As the moon rose, bringing some light into the room, Tom saw one of Gabe’s small, perfect feet hanging over the edge of the bed. He got instantly hard, his incredibly muscled body becoming tense with the thought of perhaps kissing the foot of his master. Yet he dared not, for fear that he wake his master from his sleep and suffer his rage. Despite Tom’s muscled strength, he knew (since Dom had told him) that Gabe was far above him in power and would thrash him if made angry. However, the temptation was so great that Tom lifted his hooded head and stuck his nose within a fraction of an inch of Gabe’s foot. The manly odor that wafted into his nose caused him to ejaculate, for the fourth time that night. He then fell asleep beside the bed, contented.

VIII.

As he had been ordered to, Roger Adkins, senior and former RTR president, shyly entered the room of Jason Cole, freshman and current president. Jason was in his usual position, sprawled in his reclining chair, reading while idly stroking his manhood stretching his boxers to the limit. “Oh, hi, dude, glad you could come.” Roger’s eyes were cast down to the floor. While he could occasionally look the other members of the frat, his masculine superiors, in the eye, Jason’s aura of total power overwhelmed him. With Jason’s over-ten-inch endowment compared to his own two incher, his RTR “programming” led him to feel he was in the presence of an omnipotent god.

“C’mon over here, sit in my lap,” ordered Jason. Blushing with embarrassment, Roger had no choice but to obey.

Jason stroked Roger’s hair. “So, Roger, I wanted to discuss the summer session with you.”

“But Jason, y-y-you know I won’t be here for the summer session. I’m getting my degree in two weeks and I’ve taken a job in New York with a big—”

“Yeah, dude, I heard,” interrupted Jason. “But I need you here, for the frat. I’ve got a special job for you. You know you really should feel you owe us for lettin’ you stay here, even though this is now a frat of real men. You’ve gotta agree with that.”

Roger thought about it. When Jason put it that way, it made perfect sense. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. The house comes first. What do you want me to do?”

“You know the school managed to recruit Bob Rutland, that all-state quarterback from Texas, and Quentin somebody, a really high-rated defensive lineman from Oklahoma. Well, Richie had a chance to see them both shower after at the gym when they were both visiting, and he thought they would make fine RTR material. In fact, he offered to help with their ‘initiation’...”

Richie was one of RTR’s real success stories. A sophomore, he had been a constant target of harrassment before he found the frat. He was smooth, skinny, blond, and effeminate, looked much younger than his 19 years, had long eyelashes, and occasionally painted his toenails which one could see through his sandals. He lisped when he talked, walked in a very affected manner, and in short fit every stereotype of an effeminate gay young man. For Richie, there had never been a need to “come out” because no one had ever doubted his sexuality. It had led to ostracism, and the occasional beating, all the way through high school.

However, Richie did have one thing that set him apart: he was generously endowed with a 9.5 inch cock. And that made RTR heaven for him. He could have almost anyone he wanted, whenever he wanted, and straight or gay, they would be totally convinced that pleasing him was the right thing to do. Well-muscled jocks would look at him with respect and envy.

Jason continued: “Of course, Bob and Quentin are incredibly athletic... you should see Bob’s chest and legs, and of course, watching the biceps flex on his throwing arm... mmmmmm. And Quentin weighs over 300 pounds of solid muscle... Oh, that’s right, you’re straight, aren’t you? Anyway, it turns out they’re not all that hung. Bob’s only about five inches and Quentin’s six. So after some ‘recruiting’ work of our own, we’ve gotten both of them to agree to live at RTR this summer, where Richie can guide them in “manhood” RTR-style. They’ll be living on mattresses on Richie’s floor. By the end of the summer they’ll be calling Richie “sir” and following him around like puppy dogs hoping he’ll pay attention to them. And they should. He’s more of a man than they’ll ever be.”

“So where do I come in?” asked Roger.

“Well, we’ve learned from last year that at the beginning of our ‘conversion’ process, many guys still have a lot of aggressive sexual energy to get out of their systems. Almost all their lives they’ve been the top, the aggressor, and we’re going to slowly change that. But they need someone to take out their frustrations on, and you’d be perfect for that.”

Roger shuddered. “So what do I need to do?”

“They’ll come home from practice, and want you to help clean them up or get them off. Or maybe they’ll come in drunk from some party and want you to strip for them or play with your little dick in front of them while they make fun of you. Or maybe they’ll have a bad practice, and want to kick you or beat you up. Since they’ll be RTR brothers, you’ll want to help them out so they’ll feel good later.” Hearing this from Jason, Roger knew it was true.

“Eventually, they’ll start spending more and more time in Richie’s room while he’s out, sniffing his used size 28 underwear and his sandals, hoping he won’t catch them, playing with each other while they fantasize out loud about serving him. Of course, after a while, he’ll catch them doing it, and he’ll make ‘em grovel in humiliation, maybe make ‘em do it in front of the whole frat. Meanwhile, the lower they go inside the frat, the better they’ll do athletically, since they’ll be able to focus much better without wasting time thinking about what THEY want sexually. Might even get ‘em to paint their toenails so they can be more like their idol. Imagine the locker room when the team sees that...” Jason was clearly enjoying the images. His cock had grown to full size out of the boxers, causing Roger to shift on his lap, while Roger stared at the daunting tool like a mouse mesmerized by an anaconda.

Suddenly, the mood was broken as a tall, lanky 15-year-old showed up at Jason’s door. “Hey, Jason,” he said.

“Hey, little dude. How’s it hangin’?”

“Mostly stickin’ straight out. I can’t BELIEVE how horny I’ve been since basketball season ended.”

“Hey, Roger, meet Louis. He’s one of the reasons our basketball team did so well this year. He helped our star point guard Ralph Grogan shoot three-pointers all year.”

“Yeah, and Ralph helped ME shoot all year. But I guess I must have been too mean to him, ‘cause when the season ended he didn’t want to keep seeing me. Some of the OTHER guys got to keep their players. It’s not fair!”

Ralph Grogan had indeed been grateful to get away from Louis when the season ended, because Louis’ price for the cum he desperately needed for each game was to submit sexually to his own younger brother Fred. Louis got completely off on controlling the brothers like puppets, Fred driven by the occasional drug-induced conditioning session to accept all of Louis’ suggestions, and Ralph driven by his incredible need for Louis’ cum. As Louis directed from the side, totally hot from the feeling of control, Ralph was the victim of some very rough sex driven by an enraged, sex-crazed Fred. Even now that the sessions were over, Ralph and Fred’s relationship had permanently changed, with Fred viewing Ralph with contempt, while Ralph looked up to his little brother and tried constantly to get in his good graces. Fred would make increasingly humiliating requests of Ralph, and Ralph, desperate for Fred’s approval, would have to obey. Recently, Fred had ordered Ralph to serve him and his high school buddies at a party at home. Fred’s friends, impressed at the control Fred had over his famous basketball brother, made him buy them beer, and once they had drunk most of it, started to order him to do increasingly disgusting things: rub their feet, eat their boogers, kneel in the bathtub to be pissed on. The more disgusting the things Ralph did, the more desperate he felt to please Fred, while the more Ralph lowered himself, the more contemptuous Fred was of him. Their relationship was permanently altered by the experiment, and while Ralph was happy about the unexpected success of the basketball season, he was deathly afraid of seeing Louis again.

Jason’s view of the situation was different. “I agree, little dude, you helped Ralph to his best season ever, you’d think he’d appreciate it. Besides, you’re one of the team’s best hung cum boys. Show Roger here what you’ve got.”

Grinning, Louis dropped his baggy pants. There was no underwear underneath. Sure enough, he was almost instantly a hard 8 inches.

“Lookin’ good, little dude. Roger here is only two inches hard. Show him, Roger.” Totally humiliated, Roger was compelled to climb off Jason’s lap and strip off his pants and underwear, and jerk himself to hardness.

Louis stared. “I can’t believe it, man. And you’re a college senior. Is that for real?” He began to painfully snap at Roger’s small dick with his thumb and forefinger. Roger grabbed at him angrily, but Jason intervened.

“Wait, dude, don’t you think you owe Louis some respect? He’s only 15 and you can see he’s a man already, and he helped our school’s basketball team.”

Hearing Jason, Roger began to look at Louis in a whole different way, not as a punk kid with an attitude, but as a superior to be treated with respect. “Sorry, Louis, how can I make it up to you?”

“Well, you can help me work on THIS,” said Louis, pointing to his erection. “Where’s your room, man?”

“We can’t go there, my roommate Wally is there right now.”

Louis laughed. “You mean the geek on the first floor? I passed his room on my way up here. I know how you RTR guys are, and I wanted to have a little fun, so I showed him what I had in my pants and told him he’d get big like me if he jerked off slowly with my underwear, and he was forced to believe it! He’s down there doing it now. Come down with me and I’m sure I can come up with something to do with the both of you.”

Roger looked at Jason for help, but all Jason said was, “OK, you two have fun.” Louis pulled his pants up. Roger started to do the same, but Louis told him, “Leave ‘em down, I want everyone to see you’re with me.” Waddling with his pants and underpants over his ankles, Roger dutifully followed Louis down to Roger’s and Wally’s room. A few of the brothers, including one with his girlfriend, sniggered as they passed Louis and Roger on the stairs; they could see what was going on.

IX.

It was September, and a new school term had begun. The seniors who had gotten their degrees and moved away had, under the Grand Master’s guidance, forgotten much of what made Sig Lam special. Of course, most of them, without their conscious knowledge, remained on call to drop everything and return to Sig Lam on command, for sexual or any other purposes. All of them would forever contribute generously, both to Sig Lam’s general fund and to its secret fund set up for the Grand Master’s use.

It was time for the first meeting of the year, in the frat’s basement meeting chamber. This time, all the Sig Lam brothers were there. Guard duties were now provided by two burly Gamma Kappas who had been recruited by that frat especially for this purpose. In another change, Pete, the new gay pledge master of Sig Lam (John having graduated), sat in the front row, legs stretched out, using the face of a naked, straight blond Gamma Kappa member as a footstool. The slightly built GK, aware of what he was doing but unable to stop, was giving a tongue bath to Pete’s rancid bare feet. Pete kept telling the GK how much he loved the taste of Pete’s feet, how much he NEEDED it, and the GK was starting to believe him. Eventually, the GK would go back to his room, jerking off just thinking of the taste of Pete’s feet.

Pete stood up and off his footstool (the footstool missed his presence immediately) and climbed the podium to begin the induction. As he did so, the house-owned silver Porsche drove up to the front door. Out stepped a confident-looking newly-minted freshman, an two-year older and much better built version of the Grand Master. It was obvious that this person worked obsessively on his body; while not particularly tall, he had a gymnast’s full complement of muscles. His otherwise handsome face was marred by a fading bruise under his chin, where he had almost knocked himself out with his fist for questioning one of his little brother’s orders.

He strode past the guards who were at hard attention, down the stairs, and up to the podium, where he sat on the president’s chair, placing one Osiris-clad sneaker on the head of each of the twin GK brothers lying at the foot of the chair. He then continued Pete’s induction process, although much less was needed with this group after so many meetings.

He then began the business of the meeting. “I want to thank all of you for unanimously electing me President of Sig Lam even though you had never met me before. I want to let you know I intend to keep up the proud traditions of this house set up by my brother over the last year. I’m going to intensify the experiments he started, and start a few of my own.

“As you can see, we have tightened the bond between Sig Lam and Gamma Kappa, and their pledge master is on the lookout for the smartest geeks, I mean guys, he can find to help us out here. Since Hal, their president of last year, got one of our brothers, Brooke here, mad, Hal accepted Brooke’s suggestion that he forget his med school acceptance, quit school completely and go to work as an assistant to Brooke’s 16-year-old brother at a fast-food restaurant. I understand Brooke’s brother and his friends are pushing Hal around pretty rough there in front of the customers, and making him do disgusting things in the back... Anyway, I think we’ll make Brooke president there for now, and we’ll be taking over the best rooms in their house. They can move into our rooms as assistants, slaves, whatever you want. Just make sure they keep up their academic standing so they can keep helping us out. All their time should be spent either studying or serving us.” The GKs in the room swallowed hard; they heard and understood what was being said, but were under unbreakable orders to tell no one else.

“Also, good news, Phil the Genius will be back at GK this year.” Phil the Genius, so named because he had come to national attention for his startling and insightful work in astrophysics, had been slated to go straight into a Ph.D. program elsewhere in the country. However, Phil had suffered from acne since junior high, and somehow (with someone’s evil hypnotic coaching) became convinced that the only way to cure the acne was having it pissed on by Sig Lam members. So most afternoons, he would come over to the Sig Lam house, kneel by the urinals, remove his thick glasses, and ask the Sig Lams to piss on his face. Soon, the Sig Lams were laughing at him and making him beg for their piss. He was deeply tormented but resigned to his fate, as he was totally convinced this was the only way to be cured. It even prompted his decision to stay at the school, where he felt he needed to remain until he was cured.

“It’s going to be a great year. Since my brother’s big success with the basketball team last year, he has started an experiment with the football team. Since spring practice, he brought them face-to-face with the local high school chess club. He’s told them the team has to work out constantly until they can beat the chess club members at wrestling. What they don’t know is that he’s hypnotized both them and the club so that no matter how small or geeky the club member, any of them can easily force any of the team into physical submission, any time. So the team will work out obsessively trying to get strong enough to be able to beat the club members, Meanwhile, each team member will live in fear that one of the little high school chess club geeks will come over and whip his ass in front of everybody. It’ll help both sides. The club members will gain confidence, and the team will get strong enough to knock over all the opposing teams. Plus, I happen to know that one or two of the chess club members is gay. Maybe one of ‘em will come over and forcibly claim a team member as his ‘bitch’. What’s the football player going to do—complain to someone?

“All right. Now for this year’s room assignments...”