The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Homecoming weekend was here! The main events were to start this afternoon. The slaves were on the lookout for Professor Merk and Master Ginger, ready to grab and reprogram either one if they were seen. Most of the activities would take place in the dorm, out of the view of the general school population. But there was no room there for all the lacrosse families, so slave Petey reserved a whole floor at a local hotel, paid for by the parents, of course.

Before the weekend, the lacrosse slaves had been instructed to beg their families for a contribution to the Missionary Fund of the Church of the Holy Feet, without giving exact details of the name and nature of the church. They were told that their families would be judged at Homecoming according to how much they were willing to contribute. But Father Petey said he would be fair, judging also by how much each family could afford.

So before the afternoon’s festivities at the dorm, Master Bigfoot and Petey were meeting with each family, minus that family’s lacrosse player himself. Petey started with the families Petey felt had not contributed enough compared to what they could afford. The Judgment Chamber was the largest room on the floor. Inside, Master Bigfoot sat on a lavish chair on an elevated platform, his legs stretched out in front of him and his feet resting on their heels so that the soles of his size 18 feet would face the family being judged. And in truth, during their sessions of judgment, the eyes of the family were mostly riveted on those giant feet, even though Master Bigfoot himself simply stared blankly straight ahead and never moved or spoke, like the statue of a seated deity, while Father Petey conducted the session.

Entering the room and encountering the all-powerful smell of the gigantic feet was like walking into a wall. Within a couple of minutes, the family’s minds would be weakened and reeling, and could be easily twisted by the skilled Father Petey.

The first family to enter the Judgment Chamber consisted of a father, a mother, and a boy-girl pair of 18-year-old twins. This family had contributed the least among all of them. Petey was secretly seething beneath the surface as the family sat there, unable to move their eyes off the Feet.

“So, Mr. Gallagher, why were you unable to make a substantial contribution to our Church?”

“Well, I’m between jobs, and with no current income I have to save what I can, particularly since the twins are headed to college next year.”

“Really? Your older son the lacrosse player Patrick told me that you have more than adequate investments. Why couldn’t you sell some of those to help our Missionary Fund?”

Gallagher was sweating profusely. “I was afraid of running out of money before I got a new job. And the twins will need tuition for next year.”

Master Petey considered the situation. He asked the twins, “What careers do you hope to take up after you go to college?”

Staring helplessly at the feet controlling his mind, Jason was totally open about his ambitions. “I’m good at science and I like to help people. So I hope to become a research physician. It’ll take years of work to get there, but I got top SATs and grades, so I hope I’m ready.”

Also unable to tear her eyes away from Bigfoot’s giant pods, Theresa said, “I’m good at programming and have a lot of ideas for developing apps that have won awards at competitions, so after college I plan to join a startup or maybe even raise money to start my own.”

Father Petey clucked his tongue. “Jason, do you have any idea how much four years of college plus at least three of med school cost? Plus if you’re doing research you may need to get a PhD. And with your family so apparently short of money! And Theresa, how do you expect to raise the money for a startup when your family can’t even come up with a reasonable contribution to our Church? And any seed money would have to come after paying tuition, room and board for both of you for years.”

Father Petey came up with a solution. He raised one palm towards each of the twins, who sat bolt upright and had dazed expressions on their faces. After a few minutes, Petey lowered his hands, the twins’ heads slumped to their shoulders.

“All right Gallaghers, I have solved all your problems at once. Jason, what do you want to do for a living?”

Jason’s head came up again, and he once again stared at the Feet. “I... I want to be a rent boy. I want to make myself available to any guy willing to pay to have me. Since I’m straight, I will have to study hard to learn about gay sex, so I can be the best rent boy out there and get lots of repeat business. I will get no sexual enjoyment out of it, but I will live to serve others.”

Petey smiled. “Great! You’ll be able to live your dream of helping others, and not only won’t you ever need tuition money, you’ll be bringing in cash to help your needy family! And you, Theresa?”

Her head came up. “I want to be a prostitute. I would like to experience all aspects of that career, such as being an exclusive call girl, a live-in bimbo, or a streetwalker. That way I can adapt to whatever the market wants.”

Petey beamed. “Excellent! See, you’ll be applying your intelligence and learning a lot, without any money needed for college next year. See how I solved everything! I did it by changing your kids’ ridiculous expectations of life, and changing them from money pits you obviously can’t afford, into income-generating assets for the family. Not only do they not need college for their newly chosen careers, they could drop out of high school tomorrow and get a head start on their working lives. Soon, you’ll be able to afford a decent contribution to our Fund. Everybody wins!

“Now Jason, Theresa, I suggest you use this Homecoming weekend on campus to learn as much as you can about the sex profession. Offer yourselves to anyone that you see looking you over. Maybe you could do the first twenty or so clients for free, just as a learning experience. Both of you are cute enough that I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding enough business to keep you occupied all weekend.

“We can make it a contest! See which of you two can turn the most tricks this weekend, and the twin that wins WON’T be viciously punished by their dad for not bringing in the cash! Great fun, huh? All right, get out there and strut your stuff!”

Mr. and Mrs. Gallagher each looked as if they were trying desperately to say something, but the all-pervasive foot odor was acting like a pair of hands around their minds and throats, choking them. They were unable to speak by the time Petey escorted them out of the room, and brought in the next family.

The Venturas had contributed a bit more than the Gallaghers, but not much more. Petey, flush with a feeling of success after the Gallagher judgment, looked at the new family, with a father, a mother, and an 18-year-old boy. Who was black, very tall and muscular, while the parents were both white, of average height and build. Petey was confused, so Mr. Ventura explained.

“We adopted Tyshawn six years ago, when he was twelve. He’s extremely intelligent, but he grew up in a terrible environment, with lots of drugs, guns and violence. But he really flourished once we got him away from there and he settled into our town. He’s doing excellently in his senior high school year, and we’re expecting he’ll get a full scholarship here next year.”

“Mr. Ventura, your son on the lacrosse team, Blake, tells me that you run a very successful car leasing business. Why couldn’t you afford to make a decent contribution to our Missionary Fund?”

Ventura looked nervous. “I’m currently trying to expand my business nationwide, so I need every penny I can get in order to do that.”

“I understand. And feeding and caring for a big guy like Tyshawn there must be expensive, huh? Tyshawn, take your shoes off, and you too, Mr. Ventura. Tyshawn, put your foot over Mr. Ventura’s foot.” Tyshawn hesitated before obeying, a bit too long for Petey’s taste, but he eventually moved his foot over his adopted father’s.

“Wow, Mr. Ventura, I can’t even see your foot under Tyshawn’s. That’s what, like a size 15 versus a size 9? And so much wider! Have you ever noticed that, Mrs. Ventura?”

Mrs. Ventura’s gaze shifted for the first time away from Bigfoot’s holy display down to Tyshawn’s foot which completely obliterated any view of her husband’s. For some reason this was having a weird effect on her. Her breathing grew shallower and more rapid. She felt a kind of unexpected excitement.

Petey went on. “And Tyshawn, put your hand on top of Mr. Ventura’s hand.” Again the hesitation, longer this time. Petey could feel that Tyshawn had a will much more powerful than the others, and was fighting him. Petey pushed a key on his cellphone requesting immediate relay help. A few moments later, the backup mental power streamed through the door, and Tyshawn’s huge hand flew over and completely covered Mr. Ventura’s. This seemed to add to Mrs. Ventura’s breathing distress.

“OK, now, pull out your cocks, and get ’em big.” By now, neither Mr. Ventura nor Tyshawn could refuse the command. Soon, Tyshawn’s fat nine-incher was flying proudly, dwarfing Mr. Ventura’s slim five inches. Mrs. Ventura was beside herself, gasping for air.

“Gee, Mr. Ventura, I don’t see how you had the right to adopt Tyshawn and force him into YOUR way of life,” said Petey, raising his palm. “He’s twice the man at 18 that you’ll ever be. By rights, HE should adopt YOU and change YOU to be more like HIM! I can see that you agree, don’t you, Mrs. Ventura?”

Mrs. Ventura was staring at the long fat cock that put her husband’s to shame. Her initial shock and disgust at the situation was skillfully being twisted into fascination and lust by Petey’s powerful directed thoughts.

“You’ve been attracted to Tyshawn for years, haven’t you? You’ve always wanted that big muscular body on top of you, that big cock inside you.”

“No... my baby...”

Petey raised his palm, and she felt the last of her motherly resistance dissolve completely under his power. Now the only thing contained in her mind was intense lust for the long, fat black cock in front of her. A bit of drool found its way out the left side of her lips.

“And you, Tyshawn... you’ve always wanted her, haven’t you? You’ve looked at those big milky tits and that big booty and thought, I want a piece of that!” Petey flashed his palm at the big kid.

“Mama... no...” Tyshawn’s resistance was much stronger than Mrs. Ventura’s had been. It took all the backup relay power Petey could bring in to finally overcome that resistance.

Petey again raised his palm at Tyshawn. “She’s not your REAL mama, Tyshawn. She’s your ‘lil mama’, a horny white bitch who’s had her eye on you for years.” Now Tyshawn’s sizable cock was flailing around and leaking profusely, and from Mrs. Ventura’s facial expression, Petey could guess that she was rapidly growing moist inside. He silently ordered her to strip while Tyshawn watched, seeing his “mama” in a way he never had before.

Petey directed one last superpowerful bolt of thought through his palm. Tyshawn tore off his clothes and climbed aboard his adopted mother, who had gotten her clothes off in record time. At first, Tyshawn’s long fingers explored his mother’s large breasts, as if inspecting the merchandise, or making one last attempt to resist the inevitable. His mother moaned, not showing the slightest sign of protest.

After 30 seconds of this “foreplay”, a reinforced thought drove Tyshawn over the edge into full fucking mode. His newly implanted false memories told him he had always wanted to dominate and control this sexy older “bitch”. And his mother, believing she had dreamed of this happening all those years, began to shriek obscenities and demanded to be fucked harder.

Petey turned his attention, and his palm, towards Mr. Ventura. “Isn’t that the most exciting thing you’ve ever seen?” And the father’s feelings of shock and disgust were now transformed into intense sexual excitement. Mr. Ventura grabbed his cock already outside his pants and began to jerk off furiously at the sight of his adopted son banging his wife.

Petey kept pushing thoughts into Mr. Ventura. “You wish Tyshawn were fucking YOU, don’t you, Mr. Ventura? You adopted him because even at 12, you could see he was a total man and you were just a pussy weakling. You secretly hoped he would take over your family and force you to serve under his heel. Whenever you were fucking your wife, you were dreaming of Tyshawn sitting there, ordering you to do it, telling you exactly what to do. You couldn’t have had sex with her without those thoughts.

“You wish Tyshawn could fuck some masculinity into you. You find that idea incredibly exciting. But it’ll never happen, because Tyshawn is totally straight. He’ll be fucking your wife several times a day from now on, but never you. Oh, he might have you crawl to worship his feet while he’s watching TV, or if he’s feeling generous he might let you suck his cock once in awhile. He might even order you to watch while he fucks your wife, or one of his other bitches. But no matter how much you long for it, you can never have him inside you.”

At that moment, a final burst of energy caused three simultaneous mind-shattering orgasms, with Tyshawn overflowing Mrs. Ventura, and her voyeur husband’s sticky fluid jetting all over the carpet. Father Petey pulled out his cellphone and sent a text. In a dark utility closet down the hall stood the four members of the Vacuum family, silent and with eyes staring straight ahead. When Mrs. Vacuum’s phone beeped, her mouth formed an ‘O’, she started making the noise of a vacuum cleaner, and she left the closet headed for the Judgment Chamber. All four Vacuums would have plenty of work to do before the weekend was over.

Master Bieber was waiting for the afternoon Homecoming festivities, keeping an eye on the dorm grounds in case any form of trouble turned up. He stepped out of the dorm—someone ran ahead and held it open for him—and spotted... Ginger! Heading into the woods behind the dorm at a leisurely pace, as if he didn’t mind being seen. Bieber sprinted towards the woods. Ginger must be stopped before he and Merk could develop technology that could conquer and enslave the entire dorm. He knew that his new very powerful compliance device would easily overcome any protection or resistance Ginger might have.

He came to a clearing, and there stood Ginger, grinning, hands on hips, the whole intimidating 6′11″ of him. “Hi there, Bieber-boy, we need to talk. Not wearing your little cap, eh? That will make this all the easier.” He lifted his hand towards Bieber, except—

The next thing Ginger knew, he was on his knees before Bieber, his hands firmly by his side. His mind felt as if a drill had penetrated it. All thoughts of planting ideas into Bieber vanished and were replaced by powerful images and ideas coursing from Bieber’s hand directly into his brain. His mind fought against the undesired feelings of reverence for Bieber and the slaves that he felt being crammed into his head.

His resistance was fading fast. Unwanted feelings of obedience, worship and servitude were being pounded into his mind, like a giant cock being forced down his throat or up his ass. He was helpless in the face of this mental invasion. His more primitive mind control device was utterly failing to protect him and was unable to deliver a counterblow. Soon his will would crumble, and his mind and body would become the plaything of that beautiful, no wait, loathsome Bieber lookalike. The mental picture of himself lying naked beside Bieber’s bed with Bieber’s foot planted firmly on his face—and Ginger-slave feeling grateful for it—overwhelmed his thoughts. He knew it was almost over, and he was losing fast.

With his last gasp of free will, in an act of utter desperation, Ginger tore open his pants.

And the aroma from his crotch hit Bieber’s newly supersized sense of smell like a ton of bricks. Thanks to his involuntary training, Bieber’s mind immediately recognized Ginger’s pungent scent as “Master!” His hand dropped, and his amplified stream of mental pictures and orders to Ginger stopped abruptly. And at Ginger’s command, “Here, boy!” Bieber found himself dropping to all fours and loping obediently to his Master’s side.

Ginger, his mind recovering from the mental assault, stood up and quickly slipped off his sneakers as Bieber-pup arrived, so that his feet would add to the buffet of odors that would reinforce his position as the pup’s Master. Now the combination of the smells of Ginger’s crotch, ass and feet overwhelmed Bieber’s mind and buried his human personality under the identity of a loving, obedient dog.

Ginger leaned down and stroked the head of his new pet. “Nice pup. I guess with that powerful new mind-control equipment, you’re now my super-pup!” Bieber was too busy sniffing and licking around his Master’s sweaty feet to hear exactly what was being said, but he did enjoy receiving his Master’s loving attention.

Ginger started thinking as he petted Bieber. How could he use this new turbo-powered weapon? Meanwhile, the big pup had grabbed one of Ginger’s sneakers with his teeth and had buried his nose—and tongue—inside.

“I could try to turn your power against Benny and the slaves, but who knows how many of these nasty new super-devices they have, and what they have planned for Homecoming. I think the best thing to do is to turn you around and use you as a spy to find out what the slaves are up to and how strong they are. Then when Merk and I have our new even more powerful compliance devices, we can figure out a strategy to take control of all the Masters and slaves, maybe even before they realize what’s going on.”

He looked down at Bieber-pup chewing on his sneaker and smacked him on the nose. Bieber guiltily dropped the wonderfully smelly sneaker from his mouth. “Can you still understand me in dog mode?”

“Arf!”

“Is that a yes or a no? Stand up,” ordered Ginger.

Bieber slowly got on his hind legs and assumed the “beg” position, then one leg at a time began the difficult and unnatural process of standing upright on two legs. Ginger still towered half a foot over him.

“Good, you understand. I need your help over the next couple of days. Will you help your Master?”

“Arf!”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Your job is to stay close to Benny and the other slaves, learn what they know, find out what they can do, and report back to me. But you have to do it so that they don’t know what you’re up to, and they never see you with me. Can you do that?”

“Arf!”

“Hmm, I’d better fix that or we’re going to have a communication problem. Now,” he said, raising his palm and using his mind equipment against the now-undefended Bieber, “as you know you are my loyal pup. You would never do anything to hurt your Master, would you? But I need you to pretend to be human, and to seem to think and act the way you did before you realized who you were. Can you do that?”

Bieber shook his head, as if coming out of a dream. He looked up into his Master’s eyes with that longing puppy-dog look. He had to work at speaking again: “Y.. yes, Master,” he finally said.

“Repeat your instructions.”

After a few words, the speaking came easier. “I am to pretend to be human, and talk and act as I did before. I am to learn what Benny and the slaves are doing, what power they have, and report back to you.”

Ginger pondered a potential problem. “If Benny has one of these super devices, he can probably force you to tell him what you know. So I need you to make a change in your conscious mind.”

Ginger held up his hand. “Even though you’re truly my puppy, you’ll be unable to remember that fact. As far as you know, you’re still Benny’s loyal Master, helping him watch out for me and Merk. Any time you begin to remember that you’re really a puppy, you’ll suppress the memory. Except when I say, ‘Good boy, Bieber-pup!’ Then you’ll remember your true identity and will serve me as your Master. Do you understand?”

Bieber frowned. “It’s not working, Master. My powerful new equipment is preventing you from altering my memory.”

“Hmm... Can you use the power of the device to reprogram YOURSELF?”

“I’ll try, Master.” Bieber frowned in concentration. A few moments later, his eyes opened, then went wide with surprise. “Ginger! What... what happened? Last thing I remember, I had overpowered you... was about to reprogram you... would have been easy with my powerful new compliance device... How did you get away? But... you’re not getting away this time!” He raised his arm...

“Good boy, Bieber-pup!”

And his arm fell back to his side as he dropped to his hands and knees, tongue hanging out, waiting for orders from his beloved Master. It was so good that Master rescued him before his human self did something naughty to Master. All he wanted was to be a good doggy for his wonderful Master.

Ginger smiled and petted Bieber on the head. “Good pup! And now I’m going to give you a special treat for being loyal to your Master. I haven’t cum in days, and I need my balls drained. I’m curious to see how your new dog instincts affect your blowjob abilities. I mean, dogs don’t give blowjobs, although I did have a puppy once that enjoyed licking my nuts and cock constantly. I’m guessing that your talented new nose and tongue will give you a new appreciation for all the tasty flavors to be found all around my crotch area. Go for it!”

Bieber-pup was delirious with gratitude for this wonderful gift from Master! He dove for Ginger’s crotch and his super-nose was greeted with the overwhelming and familiar smell that registered in his brain as “Master”. His tongue flicked around the end of the already-hard long, fat pole that was his Master’s symbol of masculine dominance, and lapped eagerly at the supersized balls beneath it. Then, to please his Master, Bieber combined his puppy instincts with his human knowledge of blowjobs to engulf the powerful god-rod in his throat while using his puppy-tongue to surround and massage the cock’s most sensitive regions. It was ten times better than any blowjob he had given before, with his greatly-enhanced senses of smell and taste causing big hits in his brain’s pleasure centers. And for his Master, it became the best, most mind-blowing BJ he had ever received. In short order, Ginger’s three-day reservoir buildup of cum was being blasted almost directly into his puppy’s stomach, where his Master-protein would be eagerly digested and added to his pup’s body.

Ginger slid to the ground, stunned by the intensity of it all, trying to recover his senses. Meanwhile, Bieber-pup, feeling a bit cheated by having the incredible flavor of his Master’s cum bypass his taste buds and being pumped directly down his throat, licked the sweat and dirt off his dazed Master’s huge feet, the exciting flavor of Master toe-jam causing him to shoot jets of doggy-cum onto the forest floor. Soon he, too, was flopped on the ground beside his Master, panting furiously.

A few minutes later, Ginger had recovered his senses. “Man! I mean, Dog! I’ve never experienced anything like that anywhere! I wonder what it would be like to take you from behind, doggy-style? I mean, that should come even more naturally to you than a blowjob!”

At that thought, Bieber’s ass was darting from side to side. If there had been a tail in there, it would have been wagging a hundred times a minute. And his ass tingled with desire to contain his Master’s incredible cock, to be his total bitch. Despite having just cum, Bieber’s cock started to inflate again.

Ginger stood up, and noticed the newly erect puppy-pecker. “OK, down boy, no more fun today. Here are your orders. Clean yourself up from all evidence of this visit. I’m going to leave. In exactly one minute, you will forget everything that happened here, and will go into human mode. You won’t consciously remember your true dog self until I ‘unleash’ your mind again. In the meantime, learn everything you can about the slave operation so you can bring me the information later. Bye, pup!”

Doggy Bieber watched his departing Master with a look of intense love. A minute later, Bieber shook his head, somewhat disoriented. Why was he in the woods behind the dorm? He couldn’t remember. Oh yeah, he thought he saw Ginger come this way, but he must have been mistaken. As Bieber headed back to the dorm, he caught the sudden scent of squirrel off to the left, and instinctively almost gave chase, but stopped himself, wondering, Why did I do that? A thought tried to come through to the front of his mind, but faded immediately. Bieber just shook his head and continued back to his room.