The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

They do exist. Not nearly as many as porn stories would have you believe, but they’re out there. When you consider the population as a whole, statistically, there have to be enough of them that fit the bill.

But finding and recruiting high school-age teens with cocks longer than ten inches is harder than locating those six-foot-six-plus freshmen for that basketball prep school. The evidence is harder to see. To identify those who qualify for admission to the luxurious, private St. Priapus Boys Academy for the Genitally Gifted, located in the beautiful Sangre de Cristo mountains of northern New Mexico, requires an extensive network of informants around the country who find ways to visit locker rooms or track down rumors, and are paid a generous bounty for each qualified boy they find, plus a bonus if the superhung kid actually signs with the school.

And why wouldn’t they? The boys receive a free, high-quality education from top-notch, highly motivated teachers, among peers who don’t make them feel like freaks in the gym locker room and showers. In addition to the first-class academics, they have a full athletic program, with teams that compete in the league of high schools in the small mountain towns in the area. And they live in fabulous new, well-maintained dorms, kept up by a low-paid but highly motivated work force.

You see, these boys are getting every advantage of their two great gifts: their more than generous endowments, of which they can be truly proud; and the fact that nature has also provided them with a population, many thousands of times larger than theirs, of size queens (SQs) of both genders, who at first sight of their power-schlongs, are helplessly drawn to worship and serve them on command.

Many of these people are totally unaware of their SQ genetic makeup, until they first see one of these godlike appendages. Oh, they may occasionally chub up in their school locker room when they see their first dangling six-incher or hard eight inches, but they believe that’s just a natural reaction and don’t think twice about it. The guys may have girlfriends with whom they are sexually active, and the girls may play with their normal-pronged boyfriends. But once they glimpse their first ten-plus-incher, their SQ genetics takes over and everything changes.

The girls may continue with their boyfriends, or women with their husbands, but they now feel cheated and unfulfilled, and their relationships begin to fall apart as they subconsciously seek out what nature has forced them to. The guys are still capable of orgasm with their girlfriends or wives, but only if they are imagining themselves on their knees or on their backs serving the giant cocks that have now permanently invaded every one of their sexual thoughts.

The simple natural fact of this SQ population assures the Academy of a steady supply of high-quality, motivated teachers, administrators, and laborers at a very low cost. Given the demographics, the Academy can be very selective about whom they choose from the large pool of applicants for each position.

To understand the Academy better, let us examine the backgrounds and lives of four of the students at this remarkable school.

The first object of our study is Gary Taylor, a freshman from Michigan. He lived with his single mother in a neighborhood with few other kids, except for the Larkin twins across the street. They were almost four years older than he, blond, handsome, average height, compact, and exceptionally well-built, since they worked out constantly and were competitive with each other. They were Gary’s babysitters and sports heroes as they progressed through high school with athletic honors. But unknown to them, the twins possessed the SQ genes, and as Gary grew into his full genital inheritance and began to not-so-subtly show it off during mutual visits, his relationship with them changed completely. Soon the young teen had the helpless senior jocks wrapped around his little finger, staring in awe at the endowment that enslaved their minds, unable to resist any suggestion from the hormonally supercharged teen. At his instructions, they dropped their longtime girlfriends and spent much of their spare time in his room, naked and serving at his pleasure. To everyone’s surprise, they announced they were abandoning their athletic scholarship offers from big schools in order to stay in their small town.

Then came the day the twins’ mother, intensely curious and worried about all the time they were spending at Gary’s house, came over, burst into Gary’s room, and found the twins fucking each other under Gary’s command, while Gary stroked his obscenely huge powercock, barking out explicit, perverted instructions they were forced to obey. She promptly confronted Gary’s mother, who recognized the situation immediately—Gary’s long-gone superhung father had treated her the same way Gary was now treating the twins—and realized the problem would only get worse. She saw the far-away Academy as the perfect solution.

Once at the Academy, Gary soon realized he wasn’t going to find too many SQ slaves among the student body—and that those few there were had far better to choose from than his slightly-built self—so he set his sights on a brand new faculty member in his mid-20s, a very sensitive English teacher who was hired for his demonstrated excellence in teaching. This teacher walked into his office one afternoon and found Gary sitting at his desk, his legs propped on the desktop, and his fat, nine-inch flaccid schlong hanging over the edge of the chair, halfway to the floor. As the poor teacher stared at it helplessly, Gary cruelly said, “I’m a grower, not a shower.” This was too much for the sensitive guy, who passed out on the spot.

When he woke up on the floor, alone in his office, the teacher found he had been “marked” with Gary’s cum. His hair, face, and neck were covered with drying sticky supercum, and the taste in his mouth told him it hadn’t all gone on the outside. But when he went to the restroom to wash it off, somehow he felt he couldn’t do it. The feeling suddenly came over him that Gary’s cum was more significant than HE was, and that he dare not wash it off himself.

He ran into the teachers’ lounge, although he was afraid the sight and smell would shock and disgust the others in there. To his surprise, while everyone must have noticed, no one seemed to care. In fact, one of his fellow teachers came over, sniffed him, and guessed, “Gary Taylor?” Shocked, he could only shake his head in agreement.

The other teacher nodded sympathetically. “Taylor marked me as his too, the day after he got here. I suppose I wasn’t enough for him, so I’m guessing that you and I are going to be getting to know each other much better.” At this, he began gently licking the dried cum off the English teacher’s neck. An hour ago this would have sent the teacher running, but after his experience, it actually seemed to make sense.

Our next object of study is Cezar Pereira, a junior and an exchange student from Brazil. Physically, he is very different from little Gary Taylor: tall, buff, with bronzed skin and an incredibly handsome chiseled face, he stands out from much of the student body. Although his 10.75-inch endowment is only about average for the school, what really distinguishes him from the crowd are his eyes. Totally commanding, dominating, masculine, he makes anyone, male or female, feel the need to submit to his iron will. When he looks at you, what he wants becomes what YOU want.

If you’re a girl, you want to bear his child. Even if you’re a happily married older woman, you want his offspring inside you. In this, your DNA is irrelevant; you want the child to be an unblemished reproduction of HIM, with you just being the vessel to bring it about. If you’re a guy, you wish that your body would respond to his unspoken commands and somehow generate an egg and a uterus. You are so lost in the power of his commanding gaze that you don’t even notice any pain or stretching as his huge spear penetrates to your very core, and his voluminous, superactive sperm fully colonizes your insides.

Cezar was sent to New Mexico because of the proliferation of Little Cezars that were popping out all over the richer sections of Rio. And so everyone expects that 14 or so years in the future, the next generation of the same problem will start breaking out in Rio again, only this time in multiples.

At the school, Cezar takes what he wants sexually, from among either gender, students or teachers, townspeople, or even the occasional buxom housewife or male gym owner all the way up from Albuquerque, who leap unquestioningly into his bed at his call. He doesn’t discriminate between rich and poor, although if you are rich you may suddenly be overcome with the need to provide this love god with a lavish gift, perhaps an expensive article of clothing or a wildly pricey watch to adorn his bodily perfection. He will say nothing about it, but if it pleases him, you may be thanked with an extra mind-blowing orgasm, and then find yourself left, almost passed out, on the floor beside his bed, more sexually sated than you have ever felt.

The next case study is Juwan Wilson, a senior from Compton, south of Los Angeles. His father had been a top gang leader, a six-eight, muscle-packed, tattooed monster of a man, with thousands of devoted followers, and even two years ago when Juwan was 16 it was clear that he was going to be like his father only more so. Juwan was already six-nine and bigger and stronger than his father, and was already the leader of a gang faction of hundreds, making big money from various illegal enterprises, surrounded by flunkies and “soldiers”, dispensing his own brand of justice, defending his gang’s turf, and using and dumping women at will. It was evident that in just a few years, he was destined to become the biggest deal in the gang world of Southern California, even bigger than his father ever was.

Then two things happened in the space of a month: his father was killed in a targeted gang assassination, and then Juwan himself was arrested on a trumped-up weapons charge by a cop who felt under-bribed, and who no longer needed to fear Juwan’s father. Not yet an adult, Juwan was convicted and sent to a secure juvenile facility. Within a week of his arrival, the powerful teen giant was practically running the place, controlling his gang faction from inside, bringing in bitches for sex, and using the guards as his personal assistants. When all this was discovered by an L.A. Times reporter, it was a huge embarrassment for the director of the facility.

The director was determined to get his revenge on Juwan in the limited period of time he had with him, using whatever means at his disposal, legal and otherwise. He enlisted his friends and associates and hired outside professionals to design and run a program to break Juwan’s power and will completely, until he was no longer a threat to the director’s authority. He also strove to ruin Juwan sexually, so that he would never again father any offspring. The director counted on the fact that Juwan would not fully realize what was happening to him, and would be too proud to whine about it to his family or lawyer, determined to prove his toughness and manhood by defying the director.

It took almost a year and a half of random unjust punishments, brutal beatings, psychotropic drugs, hypnosis, isolation, sleep deprivation, and malevolent therapy, but Juwan was eventually converted from a commanding absolute top into a total master-craving, punishment-desiring, zero-willed needy gay bottom. He lusted after anyone who would tell him what to do, no matter how small or physically weak. The focus of his workouts changed from his previous need to dominate and outmuscle opponents, to his current need to attract and please anyone willing to give him commands. This didn’t always work, since his huge muscled body with the tattoos displayed prominently on his bulging biceps served to intimidate people more often than it attracted potential masters.

When he was released, his transformation and super-weakened will soon became clear to his former “colleagues”, and it was evident that the new Juwan would not survive in his previous environment. So he was sent off to the Academy, where he was one of only a few dozen students with an endowment truly in excess of 12 inches, but with no desire to use it on anyone, merely to offer it as an object of play or torture to any guy, however little, who was willing to assume command of his mind and body. He longed to be allowed to crawl to worship the feet of a master, however young or small, or be forced to stand at attention, not permitted to move a muscle, and be beaten and abused by that kid. Fortunately for him, although he was incredibly tall, his huge ballsacs hung low enough that even the shortest student at the school could casually reach out and slap them around, causing the blinding pain he now craved.

Our final case study is that of Johnny Ledbetter, another freshman. Unlike our other three cases, this little redhead was always shy and retiring. In middle school, he had been mercilessly bullied and teased because of his rapidly-growing horsecock, and he cursed himself for having it. While there were some SQs at his school who quietly observed him in the showers, they didn’t dare make themselves known to Johnny, as they couldn’t risk becoming social outcasts by being associated with him. (Although to be honest, gallons of cum were collectively spurted by these SQs at home, at the mere thought of little Johnny’s near eleven obscene fat inches.)

So Johnny didn’t mind being sent off to the Academy for his freshman year, away from his tormentors and in a place where the boys shared what he viewed as his special disadvantage. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that he learned that his special feature might provide an advantage.

The six full-time gym teachers and coaches for the athletic teams at the Academy were all former marines in their early 20s who while in the service discovered, to their personal horror and disgust, that they were born SQs. In the small towns in which they had been raised, there had been no visible superhung kids to trigger their tendencies, and so it wasn’t until they first spotted a supercock in some marine barracks and their “must obey” switch was instantly activated, that they made this unhappy discovery. Naturally, none of them re-enlisted, and just as naturally, they gravitated to jobs at the Academy where they could use their physical training and prowess, and also might have the chance to be used as playthings by the hung gods they now helplessly revered.

It truly helped young Johnny’s self-confidence when, after a frustrating PE class in which he failed to keep up with the group, his former-marine gym teacher privately offered to help him catch up with the class, adding, while on his knees in front of the freshman, eyes downcast: “This maggot also begs you for the right to worship your cock and service it in any way that pleases you, SIR!”

So almost right away, previously shy little Johnny was learning how to train his own personal marine cockslave to satisfy his personal desires. And when word spread to the other marines how skilled and domineering of a cockmaster Johnny was becoming, soon they were begging him to allow them to worship him as well. He particularly enjoyed commanding them while they were in their marine uniforms, while he stood over them wearing his old cub scout uniform, lovingly refitted for him by the school tailor (whose specialty is crafting handmade customized jockstraps for the students). It was fascinating to watch his personal platoon of muscled marines scrambling to obey his orders, as he stood hands on hips and with his enormous symbol of absolute authority pointing proudly straight out of his cub scout uniform fly. As they swiftly obeyed him, their eyes were glued on the powerful weapon that commanded their obedience and demanded their reverence.

When one of the marines would be too slow to follow an order, Johnny would force the others to punish him in the most humiliating and painful way he could think up, while he slowly stroked himself to full attention, producing a small lake of precum in the process. Then he would seize one of them, push him face down on the floor, and move in for the “kill”.

Naturally, the marines’ uniforms required a few strategic slits made by the school tailor to allow Johnny’s superprong full and immediate access to all those needy marine orifices. And Johnny required his SQ marine bottoms to verbally degrade themselves and call him “SIR!” while he thoroughly violated their muscled slave bodies.

In the next section of this study, we will take a closer look at the faculty, administrators and laborers that perform the everyday work of the Academy, their tasks, motivations and rewards. We will also learn about the related school, built on the same grounds, that has an important function in the social life of the Academy.