The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Subject: Pull Over! Part 2

(M/M, Hypnosis, B&D)
Date: October. 2000

Any comments will be gladly received at

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! And always remember: unprotected sex can cause HIV transmission. Always play safe.

A state trooper finds that he’s the one answering the summons.

Pull Over—Chapter 5

Before I left him to sleep, I placed a hood over his head with earphones and started the CD that continually and subliminally reinforced his subservience to me and his need to serve me. Then I went upstairs to bed. It was early morning by now and I was exhausted. I suppose he was too, but that mattered less to me. Actually, so much the better, I thought. It’ll make him more susceptible to my programming. I stripped and laid down on my bed. My cock was stiff and tall as a tree from the arousal I had over taking control of this handsome cop. I saw an image of him kneeling before me, stripped of his body hair, his cock hard and dripping, his mouth open, waiting for my cock and with a few strokes, I spewed cum over my chest and belly. Then I closed my eyes and slept.

I awoke to bright sunlight wedging itself around the edges of my blinds. When I started to roll over onto my back, I found that my chest and abs stuck to the sheets. Apparently, I’d rolled onto my belly before I completely fell asleep and the cum I’d shot dried, gluing me to my bed. The sound of my body being parted from the sheets was a satisfying one. I absent-mindedly trailed my hand over the stiff patch of my skin where the cum had dried. I arose and took a leisurely shower, planning my day. It was Saturday and my intention was to take my cop-slave downtown to a discreet establishment I’d patronized before to have my last marks of ownership taken care of. As I showered, I ran my hands over my cock and balls to check for stubble. I keep myself shaved because I like the way it looks and feels. I detected enough to warrant a clean-up. So I soaped my jewels and carefully shaved my sack, my shaft, between my legs back to my hole and, lastly, trimmed my bush so that the hairline stopped a little above the root of my dick. I finished my morning ablutions and stepped out of the shower, checking my reflection in the mirror. Yeah, not a bad-looking dude, if I did say so myself. My cock was, by now, tumescent as a result of the handling I’d given it while shaving. A drop of pre-cum glistened in the piss-slit. But I had other plans in mind for today and wasn’t looking to get off yet. So I took the honeyed drop on my finger and put it in my mouth, sucking in the delicious saltiness. Then I finished drying, got dressed and headed downstairs.

I opened the door to my slave’s room and stood there in amazement for a few moments. There he lay, his muscular body now stripped of its fur, the black suction cups on his pecs rising and falling with his breathing. I couldn’t tell from the speed of his respiration whether he was awake or asleep. Since I’d hooded him and he could hear only what was playing through his earphones, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find him still asleep.

I walked across the room and lightly touched a suction cup. He jumped and uttered a cry at the contact. I unsnapped the hood and removed it from his head. His head and face were sweaty and his eyes somewhat dilated. Apparently, he’d been awake for a while and was lying there waiting for his Master to come. As soon as I got the hood off him, he looked up at me and said “Thank you Sir. Good morning Sir.” “Good morning boy,” I said and rubbed his damp head. He smiled in appreciation of my touch. Then I reached down, removed the suction cups, grasped a swollen nipple and pinched hard. He closed his eyes and groaned. “Thank you Sir,” he moaned. “Yes, you like this, don’t you boy. There’s a direct connection from your tits to your cock, isn’t there boy?” “Yesss Sssirr,” he groaned, writhing on the bed and pulling on his bonds, his cock standing straight up like a king-sized mushroom. Of course, part of the programming on the CD had reinforced this message all night long. “Your tits are connected to your cock. A touch to your tits makes your cock hard.” Over and over, the message had been driven home. I took both points, and grasping them with my fingers, jiggled them up and down while I twisted them. He groaned and arched his back, pushing his points into my hands even harder. My conditioning had definitely formed a link between his tits and his sexual response.

“OK boy,” I said, “Time to get up and get ready.” I untied his hands and feet and then released rope tied to the stretcher on his balls. He reached down to rub his stretched sack and I slapped his hands away. “Only your Master touches those!” I said sharply. “Yes Sir. I’m sorry Sir,” he said, looking crestfallen and ashamed. “That’s better. Now into the shower. We need to do an errand after breakfast.” “Yes Sir,” he answered smartly and lifted himself off the cot. “Hands and knees,” I ordered. “Always hands and knees unless we’re going out or I give you specific instructions otherwise.” “Yes Sir,” he answered and, dropping to the floor, crawled into the bathroom. “Please Sir?” he ventured quietly. “What is it boy?” “Sir, I need to pee.” Of course. I didn’t want him peeing in my car so I gave my permission. He climbed up on the toilet and looked at me doubtfully. “Sir?” he whispered. “What’s the problem boy? You pee-shy?” He nodded and flushed. “Well get over it! You’re a slave. You have no privacy here; no secrets. Now get on with it.” He gulped, obviously in torture between the pressing need to relieve himself and his acute embarrassment and inability to release his sphincter. He dropped his eyes and strained, trying to focus on relaxing so that he could release the load in his bladder. “Hurry up boy,” I ordered. “If you can’t let go, I’ll catheterize you. That’ll take care of it.” This time, he blushed from toe to top, clearly aghast at the idea of loosing this last bit of control. The seconds ticked by, punctuated only by the sounds of his labored breathing as he strove to relax. Then there was the sound of dribbling that yielded to a couple of spurts “Come on boy! I can’t wait all day! Let it out or I’ll do it for you!” He grunted as he worked to keep his sphincter open and finally the trickle turned into a stream as he adjusted to having his Master watch him while he peed. Just another step toward complete surrender. Just another little step.

Finally, he was finished with that degradation. I took some toilet paper and pushed it between the “bars” of the cock cage and dried the tip of his cock. “Don’t want you dripping on the floor,” I said and then pushed his head forward, pushing him off the toilet. Once on the floor, he crawled to the shower where I permitted him to stand for his bath. I unlocked the padlock on his collar and took it off his neck. Then I removed the ball-stretcher that distended his sack. Since he’d shaved himself last night, I told him to wash only and not to be too long about it. He quickly lathered his now smooth body and let his hands linger a bit too long on his slick balls. I slapped his hands away yet again. “Those aren’t yours to handle! Do you understand slave? They’re mine!” “Yes Sir. I’m sorry Sir. I won’t do it again Sir.” “Forget again and I’ll give you a lesson you’ll never forget. Do you understand?” “Yes Sir. I’m sorry Sir,” he said quickly, snatching his hands away from his heavy jewels.

As Master, I, of course, was perfectly free to enjoy the feel of his balls. I “mmmmd” my pleasure as I kneaded his slick gonads. His cock pushed itself against the bars of his cage in its attempt to rise and he groaned in discomfort and frustration. “OK boy. Time for your next lesson,” I said, throwing him a hand towel. “Dry off and come upstairs with me. “Yes Sir,” he responded and dried himself as best he could. When he was finished, I locked his collar around his neck again, snapped the leash in place and, ordering him to heel, led my cop dog upstairs on his hands and knees.

I took him into my “conditioning room” where I had a compact physical conditioning unit as well as some specialized training equipment. I put him through a program of strength and endurance exercises to keep him in good physical condition, all the while, subjecting him to more “mental” conditioning, playing my special CDs through his headset. As he did his reps and ran the treadmill, he heard continuously the importance of pleasing and pleasuring me, his Master. I could see his large dick straining to escape from the CB 2000 as it responded to the aural stimulation. Yes, this was working out better than I’d dreamed was possible. I was developing my dog slave into a perfect sex machine for my pleasure.

The sexual training consisted of his learning to suck cock (obviously a new skill for him) and to be fucked. I didn’t want to hurry the latter lessons, since it was important that he not find the lessons too unpleasant. Once he’d gotten used to being stretched and impaled, he needed to find the pleasure in having his prostate and ass chute stimulated. Even though I was leaving him basically straight, I wanted to redirect his source of sexual pleasure toward being filled, front and back. It’s a little understood fact that a straight man, while remaining attracted to women, can be trained to receive pleasure from his ass. And I was using both physical and hypnotic conditioning to train my submissive officer to receive his sexual pleasure from his ass. If and when I released him, I’d already determined that I would leave that part of his conditioning in place, just because I enjoy messing with straight men’s minds. They need to be brought down off their pedestals and discover their inner pussy boys.

Pull Over—Chapter 6

I’d been working on my new slave for about two weeks. He was coming along quite well. He knew to remain on his hands and knees at all times, unless I gave him specific permission to stand, as when it was time for him to bathe. He spoke only when addressed and his responses were always short and to the point, consisting almost exclusively of “Yes Sir” and “No Sir”. He’d learned to take my cock in either his mouth or his ass and he got hard when he did so. I could see his stiff dick pressing against the bars of his cock cage when I fucked him so I knew I’d forged the connection between his prostate and his penis. I’d trained him to straddle my body while I lay on the floor or a table. He’d squat down, impaling himself on my hard dick and fuck himself on my pole while I worked his enlarged tits. I’d trained his nipples to respond to the slightest or hardest touch by signaling his cock to rise. His tits were now always erect and permanently protruded from his chest. He looked the way a slave should look and I was pleased. There was just one more thing I needed to do. I had him in his room, lying on his bed. “Now boy, I’ve asked someone to come over and help me out with one last thing to mark you as my own. You want that don’t you boy? Because it will make me happy.” He looked at me quizzically. “Yes Sir. Whatever you want Sir.” “Good,” I said. Just then the doorbell rang. “Stay! I’ll be right back.” In a few short seconds, I returned to the room with a man following me. My slave looked up at him doubtfully. It was the first time another person had been around him since his transformation and he was unsure of what he was supposed to do.

“He is going to mark you as my slave boy. Now hold still and be quiet while he does his work.” “Yes Sir,” he answered and lay there looking questioningly at the two of us. “Do you want me to suction it first?” Tom asked me, rolling the slave’s right tit between his thumb and finger. “It’s big enough to do without that, but if I suction it, the ring will be placed further back on the cone. Gives a better handle.” I thought for a moment, pulling on the tit myself. “Yeah, go ahead. Might as well get it done right the first time. Wouldn’t want to have it rip out because it wasn’t down far enough.” “That’s what I thought,” Tom said. He pulled a vacuum pump and a nipple tube out of his bag, applied petroleum jelly to the end of the tube, slicked baby oil on Roff’s tit and applied the tube. My boy’s tit was sucked into the tube and I invited Tom upstairs for a cup of coffee while we waited for the suction to do its work. Twenty minutes or so later, we came back down to find Roff still lying on his cot, his nipple now purple and distended, filled with blood.

Tom removed the tube, wiped away the lubricants and sterilized his needle. “Now be quiet,” he ordered, and gripping the tip of Roff’s swollen nipple, plunged his needle through the flesh. Roff grunted and sucked in his breath from the pain. A groan started in his throat, but he clenched his teeth and stifled it. Tom pushed the needle through and, using a pair of pliers, pushed and pulled the ring after it. I’d chosen a medium gauge gold ring with balls on either end of it. That would allow me to remove it fairly easily when I wanted to play games with him where I didn’t want a ring in his tit. Tom finished threading the ring, wiped up the small amount of blood and placed a bandage over the newly pierced nipple. “Now what about the PA? You want to do that too?” he asked me. “I think I’ll wait on that till I’ve decided whether or not to keep him permanently. If I do, I’ll give you a call,” I answered. “OK. Give it a few days to heal,” he said. “Don’t want to play with it too soon, or it won’t heal correctly. Be sure to change the bandage once a day, preferably when he washes. And sterilize the ring when you change the bandage. That’ll keep it from getting infected. Any problems, call a doctor. If it looks infected, it probably is and I can’t help you with that.” “Thanks Tom,” I said, and showed him out after paying him in cash.

That afternoon, I took my slave out into the back yard to get some sun. I slathered oil on his body to prevent burning and then staked his leash to the ground. “Lie here on your back,” I ordered. “Then, in a while, I’ll call you to roll over. We want you to get a nice even tan.” And I left him to brown, a bandage on his tit, the clear plastic cock cage enclosing his cock, a collar around his neck and nothing else between him and the bright sun. About 45 minutes later, I came out and ordered him to change positions. He rolled over onto his belly and lay there, like the dog he’d become, soaking up the rays of the sun.

Pull Over—Chapter 7

That evening, we were sitting in the living room. I was watching the news; he was lying on the floor, his head on one of my feet as I rubbed his head with the sole of my other foot. Suddenly, a news item caught my attention. The reporter was speaking of the mysterious disappearance on State Trooper Joffrey Conner. He’d last been heard from a couple of weeks ago and had vanished into thin air. His car had been found, but there was no trace of Officer Conner. The State Police were offering a reward for information as to his whereabouts, as was his girlfriend and family. They showed an official photo of him and I looked down at my slave to see the changes that had taken place. His eyes were no longer so focused as in the photo, but they were the same deep blue. Then another picture was shown on the screen: a picture of Roff Conner with his girlfriend; a casual photo of a relaxed man, beaming at his girlfriend with love and contentment in his eyes. Suddenly, I felt a pang in my chest, for I realized that, much as I wanted him, I would never really have him. Yes, I could own him; I could keep him as my slave. But he would never look at me with that same look of love and contentment. Because he didn’t love me; never would. He might obey me as his Master; he might receive pleasure from my cock. But he would never love me. And I suddenly realized that what I wanted was love, not subservience. I don’t know why I’d never figured that one out before, but it came to me just then. And just then, I realized that I’d have to set him free.

As I thought it over and made up my mind, just as suddenly, I felt a chill of fear. I’d had him outside! What if someone had chanced to see him? My yard is very private, but you never know! Or worse yet, what if Tom decided he needed a little cash and turned my in? What if he’d seen the news report? I knew I needed to act quickly. So I ordered my slave downstairs.

Once there, I ordered him onto the bed and began the process of returning him to his former state; or at least as far as I intended to return him. I wasn’t so frightened that I was going to give him back all of himself after all. I began the process by placing him in a trance. Then I had him remove his collar and his cock cage. I told him that he would sleep for a while, but that when he woke up, he would remember that he was Roff Conner. He would remember that he was a State Trooper. He wouldn’t know exactly what had happened to him, but he would remember that he’d been kidnapped and forced into sexual slavery. No, he would not remember who had taken him and he wouldn’t know where he’d been held. But if he ever found out, he would be completely unable to physically harm his kidnapper, nor would he ever be able to testify against him in court. Did he understand? Yes, he understood.

I gave him some old clothes to wear and took him out to the garage and made him climb into the trunk of my car. Then I drove him to a rest area on the highway near where he’d first stopped me. There was a pay phone there so he could get in touch with the State Police once he’d awakened. I helped him out of the trunk and to his feet. Then I told him that when two cars had driven past, he would awaken and remember who he was. Since it was late and there weren’t a lot of cars on the highway, I knew that would give me enough time to get away without him spotting me. I placed him where he could see the road, kissed him, got in my car and drove away.

When I finally got home, I was physically and emotionally exhausted. I fell into my bed and slept. And while I slept, I dreamed of him. I dreamed of him standing over me. I dreamed of him forcing me to kiss his feet. I dreamed of him fucking me and calling me his boy. And I begged him to fuck me harder and harder until I came.

To be continued.