The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

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Note: Any resemblance to real people is strictly coincidental. No real people are depicted in this piece of fiction. This story contains explicit male to male sex, domination and bondage. If you don’t enjoy reading this sort of material or are under the age of 21, DO NOT CONTINUE READING. If you regard this type of material as depraved then flee from here and don’t look back!

The Milk Bar—Chapter 6

Light penetrated Greg’s sleep. He groaned and rolled over onto his back, stretching his arms. But his arms wouldn’t stretch. They were restrained at his sides. He opened his eyes and it all came flooding back to him. These men had abducted him. They’d stripped him, bound him, shaved him, given him drugs, milked him and made him come. As his fuzzy memories flooded his mind, he remembered that they’d also video-taped all this. Now they had him by the balls, literally and figuratively. There was nothing he could say or do to get around this. He was in a real fix: a slave of the Milk Bar and a subject of their “training program”. There had to be some way out of this mess! But right now, he wasn’t able to think out a plan. Maybe later, after he’d had some food and water. His mouth felt like cotton and his stomach was rumbling with hunger.

Burt strode into the stall where Greg lay on the mattress. “Well, good morning sweetcheeks. How are you this fine day? Did you sleep well?” “Yes Sir. Thank you Sir,” Greg answered, realizing that his fate might rest in this man’s hands, so he needed to seem compliant. “Good boy,” said Burt, and proceeded to fill Greg’s feed and water troughs. “Now get your fill and make it snappy. We have work to do today! Head on the floor, ass in the air,” he ordered. Greg did as he was ordered, putting his head on the straw and raising his ass up for his keeper. Burt pulled the butt-plug out of his twat and slapped his cheeks. “OK. Now you can take care of business. I’ll be back in a minute.” With that he strode out of the stall.

Greg realized that he needed to piss badly, so before hitting the food and water, he crawled up onto the toilet. When he relaxed his sphincter, the piss flowed into his penis, but seemed to be momentarily blocked. Then it came splashing out as it burst past the cum-plug, blocking his urethra. Finally, the stream trickled out. His hands were still cuffed to his sides, so he had to settle with bouncing up and down on the toilet to try to shake the remaining drops off the end of his dick. Then he knelt down on the floor and lowered his head to the troughs, getting his fill of food and water. This morning’s breakfast was warm oat gruel with some additional flavors Greg couldn’t identify. He licked the trough clean and sat back on his heels.

He hadn’t noticed Burt standing there, leaning against the wall of his stall, his arms folded across his impressive chest. Greg had never really looked at Burt’s body before. Burt had been his tormentor and then his comforter, but he’d never really considered his physique. Burt had dark brown eyes that seemed bottomless but sharp like a hawk’s. He was stripped to the waist. He was very well-defined and strong for a man Greg guessed to be in his forties. His light brown hair was receding from the sides of his forehead, leaving that peninsula of hair jutting out on his forehead like a finger of velvety land pushing into the sea. His chest was massive and covered with light brown fur up to his clavicles. His brown nipples were the size of quarters with points the size of pencil erasers. And around his neck was a gold chain collar.

Greg’s eyes locked onto the collar as Burt levered himself off the wall and walked toward him. “Yes, you see my collar. That’s right; I started out here pretty much like you, only I came willingly. Of course, you’re willing too; you just haven’t quite put it all together yet. But that’ll come. But I started out on the bottom and worked my way up. Now I’m the top trainer for the Milk Bar. Once in a while, I see some action, when the mood suits me, or one of my old customers comes looking for something special. But most of the time, I’m the trainer and overseer. Yeah, we have other trainers, but Mr. Delaney felt you needed some special attention because the Bar has a vested interest in you. So he assigned you to me. I’ll be having others work with you as well, but I’m in charge of your training. Anyone else with a collar that has metal on it is above you. If you need me when I’m not around, you’ll ask for permission to see ‘Master Burt’. You must always beg for permission to speak by humping your master’s leg. Unless you’re being milked. Then customers like you to talk to them and beg to be brought off. Do you understand all that, boy?” “Yes Sir. You are my Master, Master Burt. Anyone with metal on their collar is above me. I must always beg for permission to speak” “And do you know what that means boy?” “Yes Sir. I’m to be obedient to everyone.” “Very good, boy. All that police academy training is showing. OK, let’s get started, lieutenant.”

Burt bent down and unhooked the leather cuffs from the belt around Greg’s waist, freeing his hands. Greg lifted his arms and swung them around to relieve the stiffness that had set in from having his arms held in one position all night. Then Burt clipped the two cuffs together behind his back. “Kneel up!” he ordered. “Yes Sir,” Greg answered and raised himself off his heels. “Lean against my leg and hump my knee.” “Yes Sir.” Greg leaned against Burt’s leg and began to thrust against his knee. “That’s how you will beg for whatever you have coming to you from now on. When you’re ordered to beg, this is what you will do. Is that clear?” “Yes Sir. This is how I’m to beg.” “And?” “Thank you Sir.” “That’s better. Now it’s time for your first enhancers. You’ll get these every morning after you’ve eaten your breakfast and at night after supper. And you’re expected to beg for them because they’re prescribed to make you a better head of stock for the Bar. We own you now. You owe your life to us. We own you, body and soul. So whatever is good for the Bar is good for you and your future. So we expect you to beg for what you need, including your meals and your enhancers. The only exception to that is our customers who enjoy being treated like man cows themselves. But we won’t give any of them to you for servicing yet; you’re too inexperienced. You also have to beg for cum and beg to be milked. Do you understand?” “Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.” Greg glanced up at Burt with a questioning look and then dropped his head. “What is it boy?” “Sir, what’s in these enhancers, Sir?” “I thought you might be wondering about that. Here, raise your chin and open your mouth. You’ll swallow them dry. God knows you’re throat’s going to be trained to swallow cock as it is; swallowing pills should be easy.” “Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.”

Greg leaned against Burt’s leg, raised his head and opened his mouth as his trainer had commanded him. Burt dropped the pills, one by one, into Greg’s open mouth as Greg swallowed them, saying “Thank you Sir” after each one. “This one’s royal jelly. A special protein made by bees to feed their queens. Funny isn’t it? That’s what we do with it, too.” Burt laughed at his own joke. “We found it has a marvelous effect on milk production and on staying power. This one’s another protein compound our chemists have developed. It increases seminal fluid quantity. A dose of testosterone to keep you horny and another compound to keep you stiff. We want you looking like you’re always eager to be milked by our customers. They like it that way. That’s all you’ll need. We’re engineering your diet as well as your fluid intake so that your cum maintains its flavor and consistency. OK. That’s it. Let’s get to the training room.” Burt bent down, unhooked Greg’s cuffs and picked up the leash attached to Greg’s plain leather collar and started out of the stall, Greg, scrambling behind him, followed on all fours. He realized his member was stiffening and rising toward his belly. Could it be the pills were working already, or was he aroused by being treated like and animal? He didn’t have time to consider this question, however, because Master Burt jerked his leash and pulled him down the hall.

The Milk Bar—Chapter 7

Master Trainer Burt led Greg into a unusually designed room. There was a pillory with a hole a little lower that waist-high in the supporting post. There was a large round barrel with shackles on either side of it: “A rack” Greg realized. There was also a large wooden X, a St. Andrew’s cross, and a T-shaped cross, both with shackles for wrists and ankles. Greg noticed a pair of stocks and another unusual pair of stocks with the holes for hands and feet placed parallel to the floor. Between the restraints was a beam about waist height. “Ah,” thought Greg. “The ‘occupant’ is meant to be bent over the beam and have his hands and feet secured in the stocks, thus exposing his ass and genitals for abuse. Against one wall was a medical examination table with stirrups and placed around the room were video monitors, set up so that they could be viewed from any of the restraining devices.

“This is the ‘Training Room’,” Master Burt announced. “You’ll be spending most of your waking hours here and in the “Pump Room” during the next two weeks while I train you. You’ll be trained to suck cock like an expert and to be sucked and hold off until you’re given permission to come. You’ll be taught to take abuse and enjoy it. You’ll be trained to be fucked and please the man fucking you. Being a cow here at the Milk Bar isn’t easy and it isn’t for sissies. It’s hard work and requires obedience and a will only to please. Now kneel down and wait for me.” “Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.” Greg knelt, sitting back on his heels, his hands clasped behind his back, his head bowed. Burt went to the phone and placed a quick call, asking to have “Ted” sent to him in the Training Room.

In a few moments, another trainer, with an elaborately ornamented leather collar, entered the Training Room with a slave on a leash crawling behind him. Ted had a leather collar like Greg’s, but with two metal bars on either side of the locked closure that hung in front of his throat. At a word from his trainer, Ted rose to his feet and Greg, keeping his head lowered, raised his eyes to get a look at him. He would apparently be involved in his first training session. Ted was a good looking man, around thirty, Greg guessed. He was about six feet tall, slim and well defined. He had a light coating of dark brown fur on his chest and his nipples were quite erect, looking, like so many of the other men’s he’d noticed, like pencil erasers sticking out from his chest. Greg figured that this must be an ideal for the stock here at the Milk Bar, so that he, too, would have tits that looked like this. His cock throbbed at the thought. Ted’s cock was hard as well, sticking straight out from his belly a full eight inches. It wasn’t especially thick, which was something Greg would have to be thankful for later. He was cut and his balls swung pendulously as he walked into the room, his head down, his hands behind his back. Like Greg, his pubes, cock and balls were shaved clean: the mark of a man cow.

“Thanks for bringing him, Sam. I’ll need him about an hour,” Master Burt said to the under trainer. “Yes Sir. You’re welcome Sir,” Sam replied, lowered his eyes and left the room. Burt turned to Ted: “St. Andrew’s, now!” Ted practically jumped to place himself in front of the large X. He spread his legs and raised his arms, waiting to be shackled in place. Burt did his work quickly and efficiently, buckling Ted in place. “Over here in front of him, on your knees. Kneel up!” Burt ordered Greg, who complied as quickly as he could.

“Now,” instructed Master Burt, “your going to learn your first basic skill: sucking cock. Ted, as you can see from his collar, has achieved a certain level of training here. He’s been trained to hold off giving his milk until he’s been given permission, as well as how to give an good milking himself. So you will begin your training working on him. In case you were wondering, Ted’s an assistant in one of the offices of the city government. Unlike you, he’s straight, but he’s fully inducted into our services and won’t be interested in women again until we’re finished with him, which could be several years from now. Now I want you to start by sticking out your tongue and cradling the head of his dick in the middle of it.”

Greg looked up at Ted’s handsome face and then at his erect member. His mouth began to water and he stuck his tongue out and licked the red plum in front of his mouth, making Ted shudder. “Don’t lick, boy,” Burt ordered him. “I want you to hold it on your tongue. Curl the sides of your tongue up around the head.” Greg curled the sides of his tongue up, forming a trough. This was a completely new experience for him. He’d never had a man’s dick in his mouth. He felt its warmth and the pulsing of Ted’s heart reverberating through the smooth head. He tasted the pre-cum oozing out of the tip; warm, salty and bitter. The tastes and smells captivated him and he started to pull the turgid flesh into his mouth. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down boy. You’re here to learn.” Greg whimpered as he pulled back from the pulsing tube of flesh. “That’s better. Good boy. I understand; you’ve never sucked a man’s milk teat before and it’s a new sensation. Well don’t worry; you’ll get plenty of opportunity from now on. You’re one of our man cows and sucking is one of your purposes for living.”

Burt chuckled at the police lieutenant kneeling naked on the floor in front of him. “God, if the guys downtown could see you now. Now tend to business. I want you to relax and flatten your tongue and curl it four times.” Greg found that he had to concentrate to accomplish this successfully. He kept getting distracted by the taste and feel of having a man’s cock resting on his tongue. Each time he’d think about it, his tongue would curl at the tip. After five or six attempts, he finally succeeded at curling and relaxing his tongue as his master had instructed. “Good boy. You’re doing well. It ain’t easy being a cocksucker is it? Takes practice. OK, you can rest a minute. Kneel back.” Grateful for the break, Greg sat back on his heels and rolled his aching tongue around in his mouth, trying to use some different muscles as Burt went to the counter. Lowering his head as was expected, he glanced down at his own throbbing dick. He’d been so absorbed with learning how to do what his master wanted him to learn, he’d been unaware of his own arousal at being forced to have a dick in his mouth. He was so excited, he was beginning to leak.

Master Burt walked back to the two slaves. “Kneel up,” he ordered Greg. “I’m going to bag you. We can’t be wasting your honey now can we? Mr. Delaney wouldn’t appreciate me allowing Milk Bar assets to drip away, unused."” And with that, he unrolled a rubber over Greg’s rigid cock.

“Kneel up,” Burt instructed “and show me what you’ve just learned.” Greg immediately raised himself and, sticking out his tongue, placed it under the head of the erect cock in front of him. Then he curled and flattened his tongue four times in succession. “Good boy. Very good. Now, I want you to alternate between cradling and teasing. Teasing is licking the underside of his cock with the tip of your tongue. So the sequence is ‘cradle’, ‘tease’, ‘cradle’, ‘tease’. You got that?” “Yes Sir. I understand.” “Good. Show me what you can do.” Greg hadn’t realized how difficult this trick was. His tongue refused to cooperate. It was like doing a difficult tongue-twister. His straining organ seemed to have a will of its own, or, more like, no will at all. It just seemed to thrash around, spreading his saliva all over Ted’s dick, but not accomplishing what he’d been ordered to do. “Slow down!” Burt yelled. “Take it easy. You won’t learn how to do this by hurrying. You’ve got to let your tongue learn the pattern. Then you can speed up. Now easy. Follow my beat.” Burt began marking time: “Cradle, two, three, four. Tease, two, three, four. Cradle, two, three, four...” Each action caused a shudder to run through Ted as Greg began to get the hang of it.

He was concentrating as hard as he could, wanting to accomplish what his Master was asking him to do. That seemed to be the only important thing at this moment. And, wonder of wonders, his tongue was beginning to behave. “Good boy! That’s great. Keep going. Cradle, tease, cradle, tease. Now faster. Pick up the tempo.” As Master sped up his counting, Greg followed along. After a while, his tongue began to ache again and he thought it was going to go into a cramp. Drool was dripping off his chin and he was whimpering with each movement as he pushed his muscles to do things they were unaccustomed to. “OK. Halt. Kneel back and relax.” Greg, breathing heavily, gratefully complied. Ted groaned and sagged against his bonds as well.

“Here, drink this.” Master Burt held a bottle with a latex nipple on it up to Greg’s lips and pushed it into his mouth. It was filled with a sweet liquid that tasted vaguely of fruit and Greg began to suck it down. “Easy does it. Take it slow. Hold it in your mouth a few seconds and you’ll get a better result,” Burt instructed him. Greg stopped gulping and held the liquid in his mouth as he was ordered. Almost immediately, he felt refreshed and the muscles in his mouth and throat began to relax. “It’s a special energy drink that’s designed to help your muscles recover quickly.” Greg swallowed and whispered “Thank you Sir.”

“That’s enough of that for now. Now, we’ll work on eliminating your gag reflex. Absolutely no good having a cock-sucking slave choking on a man’s dick, so get in position again. Kneel up!” Greg rose and leaned in toward Ted’s throbbing pole. “Open your mouth wide, cover your teeth with your lips and swallow his dick as far as you can without choking. Then I want you to lean in just a little farther and resist the urge to gag. Hold it for a count of four and then back off for a count of two. Then repeat the exercise. Do you understand boy?” “Yes Sir. I understand Sir.” “Good boy. Let’s go. In-one-two-three-four, back one-two. In-one-two-three-four, back-one-two.” Greg swallowed the rigid flesh until he felt his throat rebelling; then he held it, slowing growing accustomed to the feel of that smooth plum hitting his soft palate. Burt kept on counting, watching Greg’s neck muscles as he worked, until he saw that he was no longer gagging on the tube in his mouth. “Good boy. You’re doing great! OK, stop and kneel down for a minute.” By this time, Ted was moaning and whimpering. “Please Sir. Please. It’s been so long,” he whispered. “How long has it been boy?” “Three weeks Sir. Please Sir. Can’t I, please?” “You’ll have to wait boy. I’ll mention it to you trainer and he may let you come tonight.” “Thank you Sir. I’m so grateful.”

Burt went to the phone and punched a number. “Sam? Burt. I’m finished with Ted. Come pick him up.” And he hung up. He unshackled Ted and put his leash back on him as Ted dropped down on all fours. Just then, Sam came back in the room. He took the leash from Burt, said “Thank you Sir,” and turned to go. “Oh, Sam. Ted says he hasn’t been milked in three weeks. I think we should make him available to a customer tonight to pull his cream. We don’t want him getting a case of congested milk sack, now do we?” “No Sir. You’re absolutely right. Thank you for the direction.” He turned and walked out of the room with Ted following after him on the lead. As they turned to walk down the hall, Ted looked back at Burt and mouthed “Thank you Sir,” before he disappeared.

Burt took Greg’s leash and led him to an examination table. “Up,” he ordered. Greg climbed onto the table. “On your back, boy, arms at your sides.” Obediently, Greg turned over and stretched out on his back. Master Burt pulled leather straps across his legs and his torso, pinning him to the table. His head rested in a sling-like brace that caused his head to tilt back, so that he was looking at the wall, rather than at the ceiling. He immediately realized the reason and his mouth began to water. Maybe finally, he was going to have a chance to savor Burt’s dick!

Master Burt went to the counter, removed his pants, folded them and placed them on the counter. When he turned back toward the table on which Greg was lying, his cock swung around and slapped his thigh. Greg’s eyes grew wide and he caught his breath. Burt’s pubes were trimmed into a neat triangle and his cock and balls were clean, the mark of a trainer, Greg surmised, as opposed to the complete smoothness of a man cow like him. Master’s cock was magnificent! It was eight inches long, even though it was only semi-erect. It was at least two inches in diameter with a head like a large plum. Greg swallowed hard as he stared at it. “Please Sir. May I suck it? Please Master. Please.” he whispered. His mind was fixed on the organ being offered him and he cared about nothing else at that moment. “Yes lieutenant, you can suck it. You’re about to learn some very important lessons about sucking cock. And the first lesson is that even a city police officer can be a cock sucker.” At the mention of “city police officer” Greg was suddenly reminded of his position. Here he was; a police lieutenant, stripped, lying strapped to a table, flat on his back, begging to be allowed to suck a dick. He flushed over his entire body at the humiliation and tears sprang to his eyes. But his desire, his need, outweighed his sense of degradation. “Please Sir. Why did you have to say that? Please just let me have it. Please.”

Burt stood at Greg’s head and stroked his face. He pushed his mouth open and pushed his thumb inside. “I said that because you need to remember how far you’ve fallen. We can never have you forget that or your place here at the Milk Bar. Do you understand, boy?” “Yes Sir,” Greg whispered, “I understand,” and flushed once again at the humiliation. Burt then took his cock in his hand. “OK boy. Here you go. Make this dick hard.” He slapped Greg’s cheeks with his heavy dick and then placed in his waiting mouth. Greg laved it with his tongue, swirling it around the head and running the tip of his tongue behind the glans. He slurped and sucked on it, urging it to erection as much with his will as with his actions. And the flesh in his mouth began to swell, becoming more and more stiff as the seconds passed. Soon, it completely filled his mouth and stretched his jaw. Then Burt began to push forward. “Now don’t gag. Relax your palate and breath through your nose. Pull it in as you exhale. That’s it. Good boy. Yes, you’re a natural. You’ll be out milking the customers in no time.” The advantage of the table with its head sling was that it permitted the trainee to learn to take a large cock down his throat more easily, since the angle of his head straightened his gullet and allowed the trainer’s cock to enter completely without exciting the trainee’s gag reflex. As he thrust rhythmically into Greg’s eager mouth, Burt reached down and ran his hands through the forest on his trainee’s chest. “Good boy. You’re doing great. Good boy,” he purred. Greg worked hard on the penis filling his mouth. He massaged it with his tongue and sucked it down, coordinating his breathing with his trainer’s thrusts, seeking to give pleasure to this man who was his master.

Greg and Burt were now both breathing faster from their exertions. Then Burt moved his hand toward Greg’s nipples. He circled them with his finger tips, lightly brushing the aureoles. Greg shivered and began to whimper. “Good boy. That’s very good. Whimper around that dick. Let me feel that throat vibrate,” he breathed. Greg obeyed and whimpered as much from desire as from compliance. He moaned and cried, overcome by the sensations flooding his brain. A stiff, hot cock in his mouth, hands on his nipples, his body strapped down, helpless and used. His own cock was pointing at the ceiling and coated with pre-cum. Then Burt grabbed the points of his tits, pinching and twisting them hard. Greg cried out around the rod in his mouth and squirmed against the straps binding him. He needed to come! “Please master. Please touch my cock. Please.” All that came out, of course, were incoherent sounds, but Burt understood the plea. “Soon boy. Soon. But not right now. You have more to learn and from now on, your cum is for customers. Now you’re a Milk Bar man cow.” Greg heard and understood. He was no longer his own. As Burt had told him; the Milk Bar owned him, body and soul.

To be continued.