The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Milk Bar—Chapter 11

Master Burt led the new man cow into the wash room and ordered him to stand and lean over with his hands on the rim of the toilet. As he braced himself there he felt the, by now, familiar feel of shaving cream on his ass. Master, using a straight razor, carefully shaved the stubble away from his pink hole, inserting a finger every now and then, much to the delight of the slave, who wiggled his butt with pleasure. His Master shaved away all the hair from his hole to the base of his sac, taking great care as he cleaned his perineum. When he’d wiped the area dry, he slapped the cop slave’s butt. “Stay boy,” he ordered. Slave Greg twisted his head around to watch what his Master was doing. He knew what came next, but he felt a thrill pass through his entire frame as he watched the preparations. His Master filled a large rubber bag with warm water and added some additional ingredients. Then he fastened a hose to the bag; a hose with a cock-shaped end on it. He hung the bag on an IV stand and wheeled it over to where the slave waited. He greased the dildo and inserted two slick fingers into the man cow’s winking hole. “Relax,” he ordered, once again slapping the slave’s butt. Greg dropped his head and alternately clenched and relaxed his sphincter around the fingers in his ass. When his Master felt the hole was loose enough, he pulled his fingers out and placed the cock head against the pink rose. Then he pushed it home. The slave sighed as he felt the dildo penetrate and lodge inside him. He’d not yet been introduced to the arts of pleasing a man who was fucking him, but he’d received enough fucks during his training in holding off yielding his man cream to have come to enjoy it immensely. His Master squeezed the bag and he felt the treated water flowing inside. As he administered the enema, his Master reached under him and rubbed his belly, helping the water fill all the nooks and crannies of his gut. When the last of the liquid had flowed into him, Master continued his massage, murmuring as he worked “That’s my good boy. Good slave. You’ll make me proud. You’re a marvelous slave. You really please me and I know you’ll make our customers happy. Concentrate on them and their pleasure. Give them what they want. Please the dick in your throat or the mouth on your teat. Give them what they want like the good slave you are.” And the slave murmured in response “Yes Master. My purpose is to serve you and make you proud. Thank you for teaching me, Master. Thank you for making me your slave.” And he felt true gratitude and warmth for this man who’d taught him his true meaning and purpose.

After a few minutes, Master Burt stepped back and said “Sit and expel it.” Greg turned carefully and sat on the cold rim of the toilet bowl (there was no seat on it), using his hands to keep from falling in and relaxed his sphincter. The water rushed out of him and finally stopped flowing, accompanied by wet farting. In another lifetime, he might have been humiliated by performing this act in front of another man, but he no longer found it embarrassing. This man was his Master and taught him to revel in his own debasement. His only response to this treatment was the throbbing of his stiff cock. When he’d expelled all the liquid, Master gave him another round and they repeated the cycle. Master squeezing the cleansing fluid into him and massaging his belly, murmuring a litany of congratulatory humiliation as he went, telling him what a fine slave and cock sucker he was, how much he could please other men by doing what he was born to do: to be a slave. And slave Greg’s cock and tits responded to the aural and anal stimulation by hardening even more. After he’d released the second round, Burt determined that he was clean and ready to continue his preparations.

“Up on the table,” Burt commanded him. He clambered up and lay on his back. Master took the razor and shave cream and, spreading the cream over his heavy cock and balls, cleaned the stubble off of them. Then he stripped away the stubble from what had been his bush. “During the next month, we’ll let your bush grow back. Then we’ll trim it to the right shape for you rank. Only recruits and those being punished are stripped completely. As a first level man cow, you will show a minimum of bush. But for your debut, you must be stripped.” “Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.” “Now, let’s see; shall I strip some of your chest hair? No, I know. Raise your arms.” Greg complied and lost the hair from each armpit. “Perfect,” said Master Burt, when he’d finished. “You look perfect!” he exclaimed and slapped his “debutante’s” butt. Greg blushed from head to toe at this show of affection from his Master.

Burt took a hot towel and cleaned him off. “Now for a little food and your enhancers. Then we’ll get you a bath and you’ll be ready to go on.” He snapped the leash on Greg’s collar and led him back to his stall. “Enhancer time!” Burt said. Obediently, Greg mounted his leg and performed his ritual begging, humping his rigid cock against his Master’s leg. “Good boy,” Burt said and dropped the pills into the slave’s mouth. Greg swallowed them. “Thank you Sir,” he said and dropped back to the floor. Then Burt filled his bowls with fruit and water. “Light snack for this evening. We want you alert and certainly not too full. For your debut, we don’t know what you’ll be asked to do, so we need to be sure that your hungry if you’re asked to milk a customer.” “Yes Sir. Thank you Sir. May I ask a question Sir?” “Yes boy, what is it?” “Sir, what will happen tonight?” Burt chuckled a low chuckle. “Yes, I guess you would wonder about that wouldn’t you. You haven’t seen it before, so you’d have no way of knowing. You’ll go into a bath with chemicals in it that will make you even hornier than you are now. Then you’ll go up on stage and be introduced to our customers at a special auction. The highest bidder will get the use of you for whatever he chooses. Some of our customers want to be milked; others want to do the milking. Usually, they want both. Since you’re new stock, they’ll know that there are limits to your training, so they won’t be looking for anything unusual, like breath control or heavy whipping. But you’ll be expected to perform your duties well and our customers know what they can expect from you as a new man cow. After all, it’s on your collar,” Burt fingered collar around Greg’s neck. Then he lifted Greg’s chin so that Greg was looking in his eyes. “You’re my most important trainee so far. Don’t let me down boy or we’ll both regret it.” “No Sir. You can count on me Sir. And thank you Sir.” “Good boy,” Burt said. He smiled and patted Greg’s check and ruffled his hair. Then Greg, still looking into his Master’s eyes, saw them soften and something passed through them he couldn’t identify, but it made him feel strange. He quickly lowered his eyes and said “Thank you Sir.” It seemed the only thing to say at that moment.

The Milk Bar—Chapter 12

Burt left him to eat and drink. As he ate, his imagination ran wild, thinking of what might be in store for him this evening. An auction! Would the customers want him? Would he prove desirable? Would he be ordered to milk his buyer or be milked by him? Or both? Would he get to come? God, how he needed to come. It had been a couple of weeks since he’d delivered a load of cream. That was when he’d first been inducted into the Milk Bar and Delaney had pulled his load for his initial quality check. His balls pulled up toward his trunk at the thought. They were ready! Just give them a chance! But that was up to his customer. So he’d do everything he could to please him in hopes that, if he did please him, he’d be allowed to come. All these thoughts swarmed through his mind as he wolfed down his fruit and sucked down his water. By the time he’d finished his meal, Master was back. He led the eager man cow back down the hall to the wash room and over to the tubs. “Up and in,” Master ordered. Obediently, Greg climbed into the tub filled with hot water. He felt his pores expanding in the heat and then he felt the drugs in the water flooding into his body. “Pull your ass cheeks apart and let some of the water get into your hole.” “Yes Sir,” and he did as he was ordered. His head and body were already buzzing. His cock was rigid and throbbing. A man! He needed a man! Give him a cock! Let him milk! His mouth gapped open and if any object had come near his lips, he might have inhaled it with his need to suck.

Burt chuckled softly to himself as he watched his charge. He was a natural and handsome as hell. Burt’s own cock throbbed to look at him: his hairy chest and chiseled features with those bright blue eyes. He had a wonderful jaw-line with a sexy cleft in his chin. What a specimen! He could have been a model! And Burt had had him for two weeks to induct into the ways of the Milk Bar. He’d proven to be a very able and eager recruit. Delaney had told him that Lt. Barber was most likely a good candidate for the Milk Bar’s recruitment program and he was right. For they had spotters all over the city looking for good matches. Gay, straight, unknown; it didn’t matter. But they needed to show the right personality mix to be recruited and trained to become ace cocksuckers and ready submissives for the Milk Bars clientele. And Lt. Barber was perfect. A fine specimen of the male of the species who was in a position of authority by was obviously a bottom at heart. Burt didn’t know where Delaney got his information, but he was usually right. Ted was another fine example. A member of the staff at city hall, he’d been spotted as a good looking man. And Delaney’s sources had determined that he was unattached at that time, which was definitely advantageous. The Milk Bar couldn’t use men who might have someone coming looking for them. A big plus was that Ted seemed to have the right traits to be inducted into servitude. And so it had turned out. He’d been trained to respond to a cock and balls and had learned to milk like a natural. With the finely tuned use of electrical stimulation and shock to his cock, balls, ass and tits, together with the imaging and hypnotic reinforcement he’d received via Burt’s highly specialized software, he’d come to associate pain with the idea of sex with a woman and pleasure with sex with men. In fact, his only source of pleasure was having a man dominate him. So now, he begged for cock with the best of them.

The buzzer went off, indicating that the slave’s time in the drugged bath was over. “Out slave,” Burt ordered and cop-slave Greg clambered out of the tub, his dick rampant. Master Burt dried him off with a towel and ordered him to lay on the nearby massage table. “Legs up!” He rolled back and pulled his legs down toward his chest, exposing his hole for his Master. Burt took a syringe and injected lubricant into his hole. “Legs down!” The slave lowered his legs to the table and lay waiting for his Master’s orders. “Lay still,” Master said, lifting the bar in his piercing up and away from his chest. Greg sucked in his breath through his teeth. His tit was still sore and he wasn’t prepared for this additional pain. As Burt held the bar, expanding the opening in his tit, he produced a badge and showed it to the cop. It was his own badge! “Please Sir,” he whispered, “please don’t make me wear it tonight. Please.” “This is what you’re wearing alright. We want our customers to know that you’re legit. So no more talk!” With that, he slid the pin through the hole in Greg’s tit and fastened it in place. Then he removed the bar, leaving only the badge in place, covering Greg’s right nipple.

“Now you’re ready boy. Let’s go!” Greg climbed off the table and followed his Master to the elevator that took them upstairs to the ground level. He could hear an insistent beat of music as the elevator door opened into a hall. Master led him down the hall and up onto a platform with a post in the middle of it. The post had shackles and hooks on it, obviously intended to permit the suspension of a man cow in a variety of ways. There was a curtain in the front of the platform, blocking off the view of the floor. Greg could hear the noises of men talking and drinking. He also could make out the sounds of sucking and in the distance, what sounded like someone being whipped, their muffled cries rising above the general racket. Master led him to the post and ordered him to stand against it. Then he raised his arms over his head and locked them into shackles hanging from chains hooked to the top of the post. This exposed his freshly shaven armpits and his furry chest with his badge hanging from his tit. Next, his Master pulled his legs apart and fastened them in shackles at the base of the post. Master stroked his raging hard-on and took his face in his hand. “Now do me proud boy. I’ve trained you well. Don’t forget your manners and do whatever you’re asked to do. And be sure to say ‘Thank you Sir’ for whatever you get. Be a good boy.” Burt’s eyes burned into Greg’s for a moment and his mouth and eyes softened as he moved his face closer to his charge’s. Then he abruptly pulled back from him and walked away. “He’s ready” was all he said as he strode off the platform.

Suddenly, the room went completely dark and got very quiet. A voice came over the loud-speakers: “Gentlemen, gentlemen. Tonight, as promised, we have a special treat in store. Tonight is the coming out of our newest man cow recruit. I know you’ll like what you see and you’ll like what you get even more. His trainer says that he’s a natural cock sucker and can satisfy you completely. Or if you want to milk him, he’s well-endowed for your pleasure. Nine inches and thick with fantastic tasting milk that won’t quit. And the rumors you may have heard are true. One of the city’s finest, he’s the genuine article; an officer in the city police department. And you can have him however you like. Want to see a cop sucking your teat? He’s the one to do it. Or have you always drooled over those men in blue, wanting to take one down your throat and drink his milk. You can get that too. Gentlemen, however you want him, he can be yours. Just be the highest bidder in tonight’s fresh stock auction, beginning now. Gentlemen! I give you our latest man cow, cop slave Greg!” With that, a spotlight shown on the curtain and the curtain parted. Greg squinted as the light dazzled his eyes. “Open your eyes, boy. Let them see your baby blues,” he heard Burt coaching from the side. He relaxed and opened his eyes, staring into the light, hoping to catch a glimpse of the men who were now ooohing and aahing at their first sight of this magnificent specimen.

The Milk Bar—Chapter 13

“Oh my God, what a cock.” “Look at him.” “What a chest. Look at those tits and that fur.” “Get that milk teat.” The exclamations ricocheted around the room. Greg could see the men pressing against the platform on which he was bound, reaching out toward his exposed genitals. “I want to touch it.” “Let us have a feel..” Just then Mr. Delaney walked onto the platform and moved to the front. “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” he said, “You know the rules here. This man cow will be auctioned to the highest bidder for tonight. This is his debut. After tonight, he will become part of the stock here at the Milk Bar. You can always reserve him if you’re willing to place a deposit down for his services. Or you can hope that he’s available for open use. But tonight, only one buyer gets to make use of his services. So, who will it be? I’m taking $1,000 as an opening bid. Who will bid $1,000?” “$1,000 here.” “I have a bid of $1,000. Do I hear $1,500?” “$1,500.” “$2,000.” “$2,500.”

The bidding became heated with the bids steadily rising. Greg couldn’t believe all these men were competing for him; his cock began to drip from the excitement. Delaney looked at him. “Gentlemen, as you can see, this man cow is hot and ready. Let me bag him. After all, his buyer should get all off him.” He pulled a condom with a receptacle end out of his pocket and rolled it over Greg’s pulsing pole, causing Greg to cry out at the sudden touch to his starving flesh. “Gentlemen. What more do you need to see? He’s trained, he’s handsome, he’s hot. Right now, I have $10,500. Do I hear $11,000?” “$11,000.” The bidding went on and on. Finally it leveled off in the 20s.” “Gentlemen, I have $23,575. Do I hear another bid?” Silence, then murmuring. “I hear no more bids for this prime piece of stock. $23,575 going once, twice. Sold to the gentlemen in the gray suit. Congratulations to our lucky buyer!”

Greg didn’t know which he felt stronger: the relief or the excitement. Finally, it was over; finally it was starting. He was about to meet his first customer and experience what he’d been trained to do.

A tall man in a dark gray suit walked up onto the platform and stood looking at Greg. Greg kept his eyes lowered, as he’d been trained to do. Then the man spoke to him in a deep baritone. “Look at me slave!” Greg raised his eyes and looked into the face of his first buyer. He realized that he recognized the handsome man, but he was unable to put his face together with a name. He found this momentarily frustrating. As a cop, he was trained to recognize faces quickly and know the name of the person. What he didn’t realize was that his training here at the Milk Bar had included some hypnotic manipulation that prevented him ever associating the name with the face of a customer. This was protection for the Milk Bar’s clientele and insurance for them that they’d never be blackmailed by one of the cattle.

The man was peering into Greg’s blue eyes. “Yes,” he murmured, “I’ve had my eye on you for a long time now. You’re perfect.” He looked appraisingly at Greg’s nude body and ran his hands over it, starting with his chiseled, angular face. He pushed Greg’s mouth open and thrust his and into Greg’s mouth. Fortunately, the slave had been trained for this kind of inspection and knew how to take a hand. He licked the man’s fingers and sucked them, demonstrating his eagerness and compliance. Then his buyer moved his hands and eyes down to Greg’s strong shoulders. He felt his exposed, denuded arm pits and ran his fingers through the dark brown forest of hair on his muscular chest. He stopped at his left nipple, squeezing and twisting it. At the same time, he fingered the badge hanging from his slave’s right tit and twisted it slightly. Greg inhaled sharply as a thrill ran up and down his spine as the man fingered his sensitive tits. Then his buyer leaned down and took Greg’s large left nipple in his mouth and sucked. Greg moaned. “Thank you Sir,” he groaned. The man stopped sucking and looked up into Greg’s face. “Don’t worry boy. I love sucking a man cow’s teats. You’ll get a good workout later.” He continued his exploration of his purchase, running his hands down Greg’s six pack abs. He pushed a finger into Greg’s navel and moved it around. Greg, with all his training, had never experienced this and found that it had almost as direct a connection to his crotch as his nips did. He sucked in his breath and shuddered. “Yes,” the man murmured, “Perfect. Absolutely perfect” and he moved his hands down to Greg’s hips. He felt along his slave’s pelvic saddle and moved his probing fingers back to his gluts. The man cow clenched his muscles as he’d been taught, giving his Master a good handful to take hold of. His Master grasped the melons and squeezed them roughly, pulling the slave’s body close to his own, biting his neck as he lunged against the grunting man cow. Greg could feel his Master’s stiff, heavy cock through his clothes and began to moan in expectation. “Please Sir. Please let me serve you. Please Sir,” he begged.

“Soon enough, boy. Soon enough,” the handsome man in the gray suit murmured. He stood back a step and hefted Greg’s drooling cock and milk-heavy balls. “My oh my. The payload,” he said, his eyes widening as he gazed at what he held in his hands (for it took both his hands to hold what he’d paid so much for). He was mesmerized by the jewels that held the cream he loved and the long, thick shaft that would deliver it. It looked like a piece of sculpted marble, only it was warm and pulsing with life. He licked his lips as he looked at it and a wet spot appeared on his trousers near the clearly visible outline of the head of his own generous endowment.

The man turned to the Milk Bar attendants standing nearby. “Get him down and take him to the private room while I settle my bill.” Then he looked once again at Greg, who, after meeting his buyers glance, quickly lowered his eye again, as befits a slave. The man turned and walked away. The attendants moved to release the cop slave from his shackles. They snapped a leash on his collar and led him off of the platform and down the hall. Up a flight of stairs into another hall lined with numbered doors. They opened the door with the number three on it and took the man cow into a room fully fitted with a post, chains, shackles and implements hanging from a peg board on one wall.. They removed his leash and ordered him to kneel down. He immediately dropped to the floor, clasping his hands behind his back, lowered his head and waited. The attendants left the room, closing the door behind them.

Images of his buyer floated through his mind. He was about Greg’s height, 6′1″, and well-built; well- but not overly muscled. Greg had watched his new Master’s hands as they explored his purchase’s body. They were strong, masculine hands with clean, well-manicured nails: a man’s hands! On his wrists he’d seen a coating of dark brown fur, so he figured the his buyer had fur elsewhere on his body. And on his left hand was a broad wedding-band. Greg found that curious, but then smiled as he remembered that he, himself, had been married once. Then again, maybe his buyer was in a relationship with another man. Who knew? And, anyway, it wasn’t his place, as this man’s purchase for the evening, to question him about his personal life. He was certainly a looker! A strong jaw with a hint of five o’clock shadow and strong features. He had dark brown, almost black eyes that bored right through Greg and made him feel even more naked than he was. His hair was thick, but cut short with a hint of gray in the temples. His clothes fit him perfectly, indicating that they may have been tailored just for him. His purple tie was the perfect shade against the light gray, French-cuffed shirt that he wore. Straight-forward, understated shoes and gray socks finished the look. Greg was used to making such observations in his police work. He could determine a lot about someone by the way they were clothed and he made his buyer out to be a powerful, influential man of means. He was sure he was not mistaken in that. And he was sure he’d seen him before, but, hard as he tried, he couldn’t put a name to the handsome face. Then his thoughts drifted to what might lay under the clothes. He’d felt his Master’s cock pressing against his own crotch when he was humping him and mauling the globes of his ass. He knew he was well-endowed and his mouth began to water as he imagined taking those balls and that stiff cock into his mouth and giving them his best. Would he be cut or uncut? Would he be musky from a long day or sweet from a recent shower? Would he be hairy, smooth or shaved. As Greg knelt there imagining the possibilities, his own magnificent endowment throbbed, leaking more honey into the condom that encased it. Then, as his mind swam with these thoughts, the door-knob turned and the door swung open.