The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I was thrilled to be selected as one of Mr. Massey’s personal assistants this year. Massey was an administrator on campus, but he also coached the track team. He was formerly a gymnast and he barely has to work out now from all the years of training he put in, but he still does just to stay a little intimidating. He is a handsome man, his strawberry blond hair is cut short for easy maintenance as an athlete, and I just want to wrap myself around one of his powerful thighs to admire him and snuggle : )

I didn’t play any of the official campus sports, but I did love a pick-up game of ultimate Frisbee from time to time. Our university’s colors were royal blue and white, although black and silver were used to compliment them from time to time. I sometimes questioned Mr. Massey’s forest greet track pants that he often wore; I loved to look at him wearing them though. He has a couple dark green jocks that are satin, or some smooth material that he lets me wash sometimes. He always says that the chicks love them, and he jokes that if I am lucky he’ll let me sniff it again someday. I do have a vague memory of not being able to move and seeing Mr. Massey approach my face with a green cloth, but regardless, I’m not sure that he realizes just how much I anticipate for the opportunity! I also wear a similar pair of green track pants that Massey gave me, but I’m not man enough to wear the jock, he says. I don’t really remember much about Mr. Massey before this year, but it is an honor and a privilege to be at his beck and call between my classes, at night and on the weekends. It was only a few weeks ago that Massey began teaching me how it made sense that gay guys like me should serve superior, dominant straight men like him. And I agree, that does make sense to me now, even though I am not sure why I hadn’t realized that before. There are several of us dedicated to Mr. Massey, and they are usually here helping me over lunch, although I am not sure what they are up to today.

Mr. Massey came back into his office from working out at the campus gym to find me polishing his dress shoes, when only moments later one of the football jocks knocked on the door. I have to say I picked this university because of its rank and the program I wanted to pursue, but had I known about the studs on the football team I don’t think I would have looked up even one program’s rank. This guy’s last name is Cain, and he has a short, tightly framed body that is very toned, dark features and he is just very sexy. A lot of the football guys wear the smooth, black nylon track pants around campus and I love catching a glimpse of their bulges when they are free-balling. Woof! I am not sure what it is about the nylon pants, but ever since I have been serving Massey I notice them more often on superior guys. Anyway, Cain was happy to see that Mr. Massey hadn’t changed out of his workout clothes because, as he put it, “Coach Lyons says the challenge is accepted.”

I’d say that Coach Lyons’ football players are just as loyal to the team as Mr. Massey’s boys are to him. Massey beckoned me to him and indicated that I was to join him at the gym. What a treat! The walk to the gym wasn’t that far, but it was long enough for me to watch Massey’s sexy ass in his forest green nylon pants that I was getting aroused. The gym’s backdoor, where most of the administrator enter and exit, was in a back alley, a little off the beaten path and out of the way for pedestrians. Standing at the entrance were two of Lyons’ men, both in their royal blue football jerseys and the sexy black nylon pants, the typical campus uniform of a football jock. I was in lust and unaware that anything was amiss. Mr. Massey mocked the two young men by flexing his pecs. Although they were built, he was bigger, and taller.

They opened the door and invited Massey in; the larger of the two guys put his hand on my chest creating a gap between me and Massey. At first I thought Massey tripped, because he appeared to fall forward, but that was not the case at all. The guys in the door lunged for his legs, each securing one, and a player called Toro, who I had lusted after for ages, wrapped his arms around me unexpectedly from behind. I could feel his hardening cock push against my back side and his hot breath whispered into my ear that I would be rewarded greatly for not resisting. As I became as limp as a handful of loose rubber bands, his cock twitched a bit on my crack and my senses were overwhelmed.

He guided me into the locker room where I could see better what was happening, although I barely understood it. The locker room had two main sections; the weight area in one large room on the left, and a section with lockers for the jocks on the right, further to the right were showers, and an office for Coach Lyons and his assistants. Coach Lyons was also no man to be messed with. He was just as tall as Mr. Massey, and although his muscle wasn’t as pretty as Massey’s, you could tell he was stronger. He was ruggedly handsome, with black hair and dark eyes. No beard, but still a hairy guy (with a trimmed chest from what I could see). Coach Lyons reeked of authority. Straight men yielded to him, gay men wanted to be fucked by him, alpha men took a number two spot in his presence, and submissive men, well, they were put to use. Coach Lyons also had a way of dominating strong willed men, to break them and mold them to serve his will. Mr. Massey was about to fall victim, as the jocks who seemed not to have a problem with this at all chanted in a low tone what sounded like ‘You’re in trouble, you’re in trouble.”

Mr. Massey was being held in the air, suspended horizontally over one of the locker room benches, by four muscle-bound jocks, each holding on to one of his limbs. The jocks holding his legs were from the entrance and were wearing their jerseys and black pants. The two holding his arms still wore the black pants, but had silver tank tops on that shimmered in a way that was smooth and hypnotizing. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them and their huge biceps. Mr. Massey’s ass in those green nylon pants looked good to me, but Toro’s cock still being gently thrust against my butt had my cock rock hard and me still somewhat out of my senses. I saw some of Massey’s other dedicated boys clamoring around in one of the assistant football coach’s offices; they were locked in. What the hell was happening here?

Coach Lyons stepped out from his office and looked down at his prey. Mr. Massey was struggling unsuccessfully to break free, and an athlete handed something silvery to Coach Lyons who stood with his crotch at the level of Massey’s head, and nonchalantly stuffed the silver material into Massey’s mouth to stop his protests. Toro thrust a little harder and whispered again into my ear, telling me he couldn’t wait to have my little slave-ass serve as his cum dumpster. He immediately tightened his hold in anticipation of my feeble attempt to resist.

Coach Lyons proceeded to tell his men that Mr. Massey had the audacity to challenge his status as the alpha male on this campus and that he had to be dealt with. He called to one of the assistant coaches, who was completely enslaved, to his side and made a motion towards his crotch. The slave assistant lowered Lyons’s black nylon track pants to reveal a silver jock exactly like the one in Massey’s mouth. Massey attempted further protests, but Lyons raised his hand to hush his boys chants of ‘you’re in trouble’; simultaneously calming Mr. Massey down who was eager to assess what was happening. Coach Lyons then pulled out his thick, uncut cucumber sized dick, that wasn’t even hard, and laid it on the back of Mr. Massey’s head. Motioning to one of the athletes, Lyons told the boy to un-stuff Massey’s mouth. Panic seized Massey.

An incredibly warm, tingling sensation began to spread on the back of Massey’s head. Coach Lyons thrusted back and forth a little bit, causing his cock to chub a small amount from the sensation of Massey’s wet hair stimulating his dick. The urine coursed over the entire crown of Massey’s head. A few drops met the floor, but mostly it pooled into his ears, or trailed around the curvature of his head infiltrating his mouth and eyes. Massey was initially overcome with shock from the experience, but as Coach Lyon’s packed his manhood away, the jocks slipped shiny black nylon pants onto Massey commando-style, having removed his green track pants and jock, and lowered his legs to the ground, leaving him in a kneeling position. A silvery tank top was put on Massey to replace his other shirt, indicating that he was now a converted disciple belonging to Lyons.

Coach Lyons told Massey to bow before him. Massey immediate laid his torso flat on the ground with his knees still bent, and instinctively licked Coach Lyons’ shoe. Coach laughed at the gesture and gently kicked Massey’s face away. Coach Lyons told him that he’d just become a new slave to the football program, an assistant coach to the rest of the world. Massey’s small band of boys would each be converted into a gay slave, just like Massey, and that Coach Lyon’s welcomed them into his fold, once they knew their place in service to the real men.

Coach Lyons told slave Massey to rise, and rubbed his neck gently while suggesting ways that Massey’s role as a campus administrator could be manipulated to serve his needs. Massey only listened, with a growing need to serve and please his new Master. Meanwhile, Toro had let me loose and I just stood there in a zombie state. I saw my former buddies, all 8 of them, each being walked out, guided by a football player. I saw them kneel and bow their heads before their football player Masters, only to look up at Toro and hear him instruct me to remove my clothes and kneel before him. I complied and soon felt a warm trickle pour over my head. It felt so good, like the barber’s warm shaving cream on the back of my neck that shocks and relaxes at the same time when unexpected. I began to taste the urine in my mouth, and was honored to have a god like Toro to serve. He tilted my head up and let me watch as he pulled his cup out of the jock he was wearing and placed it over my nose and mouth. He told me to breathe in like a good slave and to learn the scent of my master. I began to cum spilling onto his shoe, enslaving myself indefinitely to Toro. He smiled down upon me tenderly before telling me to lick it up.

We all belong to Coach Lyons now. He is an alpha male that deserve the worships of all men, and the service of submissive, weak gays like me. Massey is no more than a puppet for Lyons’ will and he loves his life serving and worshipping dominant men. I have been lucky enough to be honored with washing Coach Lyons’ jocks from time to time, and it is a thrill to know that the tricks Toro has been using on me to satisfy his cock and alpha lust, have all been learned from the way Coach Lyons has been mentoring Toro in private.