The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Wayne and James climbed out of the front seat of Wayne’s SUV, and I followed them, grabbing my gym bag from the back. As I stepped out from the back seat, Wayne grabbed the bag and whispered “Grab the toys, babe,” and patted me on the ass hard enough to push my plug in. I humped against his hand, mortified, but unable to stop. “Okay,” I reluctantly nodded. I didn’t move until Wayne removed his hand from my ass, though.

I pulled the suction cups and the dildo that reminded me so much of Wayne’s own cock out of the glove compartment and dropped them in with the rest of the sex toys, and dragged the paper bag out of the van. I turned and faced my home as Wayne and James stepped inside and into the light, and seriously considered just dropping the bag and running the other way. In fact, if I started now, who would no -

I found myself facing the door, my hand on the knob. So Amos knew, and wasn’t going to let me leave. Abashedly, I opened the door and stepped in myself.

Amos was sitting on my recliner, facing the door, in nothing but a pair of unbuttoned slacks. He had his powerful arms locked behind his head, and was sneering at my get-up. Some part of me marveled that a man of his age could look so rock-solid from the neck down. It was a naturally muscular look, too, like Rock Hudson. The rest of me was focused entirely on him. I felt every nerve in my body tingling, like I was a tautly tuned instrument that he only needed to strum to respond to his every wish. I felt utterly debased. I wanted to cum in front of him. He smirked at me, but he didn’t say anything. I just stood there in the foyer, nerves ablaze.

Wayne and James appeared from up the stairs, smiling at each other. Wayne had probably put the gym bag up in the room. I still held the brown bag in my hand. James caught my eye and nodded at me. That one little nod told me that Wayne had told him everything. I wanted to sink into the floor.

Amos cleared his throat, and both Wayne and James jumped as if they hadn’t seen him there. James put a steadying hand on Wayne’s chest so Wayne wouldn’t fall into him. “Hey fellows,” Amos said with sarcastic good humor. “I’m awfully glad you’ve come by.” He removed his hands from behind his head and stood up. His slacks slid down a little, exposing a bit of his wiry gray treasure trail. It started from his navel and travelled down the wide muscles of his abdomen, disappearing into the slacks. He was radiating an animal heat, predator hunting prey, and I felt an uncontrollable urge to stand in front of him. The paper bag slid from my fingers as I walked, one step slowly shuffling in front of the other, up to him. I barely reached his shoulders, and felt small and insignificant by him. My small stature had never bothered me with women, since even though I was only about 5′8″, most women were still smaller. With men, though, I noticed their size almost immediately, and always felt like I didn’t measure up. It added that extra little bit to my feelings of helplessness and shame.

Amos snaked an arm around my waist, cupping my ass and patted the plug in my rear end roughly. In front of both Wayne and James, he grabbed onto the disc with his hand and roughly pulled it out as far as my shorts would let it go, then shoved it back in. Neither Wayne nor James said a thing; they just stood there, Wayne leaning against James and James’s hand on Wayne’s chest, and said nothing. I tried to beg Wayne to help me, but nothing came out. “Aaron and I are going to have a bit of a man-on-man,” Amos told the two brothers. “Why don’t you go play outside for a while.” Like a marionetteer was pulling their strings, the two jerked into motion. James sunk his hand into Wayne’s chest, leaving white marks where he’d been, and grabbed a tuftful of hair. “Let’s go have some fun, bro,” James growled, and opened the door outside with his other hand without letting go of Wayne. Wayne just stared glassily at his brother as James ran his hand down Wayne’s sculpted chest, onto his abdomen, and grabbed onto his pants, tugging him out the door with a throaty laugh. The door shut behind them, its echoing bang a suitable notice that there was no help to be had for poor little me. I could hear growls and moans coming from outside, but was unable to determine who was doing what.

Amos’s eyes were slightly unfocused throughout the scene, but his hand kept busy on my ass, twisting and turning the plug inside me. After a moment, his eyes regained their sharpness and he looked down at me. “Now we can have our alone time,” he leered. I tried to respond, but only moaned.

He tightened his hand on my ass and used the plug to steer me over to the stairs, goose-stepping me up them with sharp upward tugs. I found myself moving just to ease the discomfort. He led me back into my room, and pushed me face-down onto my own bed. My head fell onto one of the pillows, and I groaned into it. Amos began roughly removing my clothes, one by one, never saying a word, his breath barely quickened from the exertions. My own breath, however, was being delivered in short, quick gasps and pants. Each article of clothing he removed got me hotter and more humiliated, until I was naked on my bed with Amos kneeling over me. With a loud “plop!", he grabbed the butt-plug and ripped it out of my ass. I cried out in pain and emptiness and shame. He immediately shoved two of his fingers in dry, expertly finding my prostate and grinded into it roughly.

“We’re going to play a game of twenty questions, " he whispered loudly into my ear. Wrong answers will earn,” and I cried out again as another finger was inserted in with the other two. He began working them around inside my ass, twisting up and down. "—demerits,” he continued. He pulled his fingers out and flipped me over onto my back, grabbed the cockring, and tugged it outwards until my newly long balls were almost caught in the ring itself. “I can cause you pleasure or I can cause you pain, but either way you’re going to detest it. Me, personally, I’d go for the pleasure,” he said, and I cried out yet again as a wave of desire flooded me. I had an orgasm right there, humping into his hand, but nothing came out and it left me completely unsatisfied. “Do you understand the rules?”

“Y-y-yes!” I gasped at him.

“Good. Now, how do you feel?” he began.

“Horrible. Terrible. You’re raping me, for God’s sake!” I yelled.

“You can’t rape the willing,” he pointed out, and I felt another wave of desire hit me. I climaxed again without cumming. “That question was free. I was just starting us off. You may answer honestly. In fact, I insist upon it.” He said with a low chuckle. He eased back on the cockring and ran his hand down my hard shaft, just slowly playing up and down lightly along the length.

“You’re angry. Why are you angry?” he asked with false innocence.

“Because you turned me gay, you asshole!” I screamed at him. It felt so good to be able to tell him off finally. He drew a long, shuddering gasp out of me by flicking the glans of my penis lightly.

“Wrong answer. That is not, in fact, why you are angry.” He was right; I had nothing against gay people myself before he began fucking with my mind, and probably would never have minded suddenly becoming attracted to men. “One digit...er...demerit,” he smiled at me as if we were talking about weather at a tea party. He worked his middle finger back into my ass and began fucking me with it. “Would you like to try again?”

“Ungh. Okay! Okay! Arggh... because you made me LOVE IT!” I howled as I felt another dry orgasm take me, and he smiled at me like a priest hearing confession. He kept fingering me, twisting in and out of my ass like a piston, drawing slowly out and then shoving hard back in. I arched my back into the air and came into contact with his smooth skin.

“Better. But that’s not all, is it? You’re angry for other reasons, aren’t you?”

“Aggh—yes. You turned me into a slut! I would never have gone to bed with that many men. If I didn’t ...oh god, please stooooo...if I didn’t catch something from the sling night alone, it will be a—oof—miracle,” I said in between gasps for air.

“Yes? More?” he encouraged me, still twisting in and out.

“You keep changing my body. My hair! My balls! My nipples!”

“Wrong answer, and you’re evading the real reason,” he said, shaking his head in exasperation. “You love the new look, and we both know it.” He was right; I could barely admit it to myself, but I looked sexier than before. I was proud of my changes. Had he been a genie in a lamp, granting me wishes on things about my body I’d love to change, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have asked for much the same. He was wrong about the hair, though. I wanted that back so bad. “Two demerits.” He worked his second middle finger into my hole, pushing it in when he pulled the other out. I felt his thumb enter me at random intervals.

I grunted and writhed on the bed beside him. Every time his finger pushed in, it struck my prostate. The thumb mostly stayed at my sphincter, teasing my anal ring until I thought I would pass out from the degrading pleasure. “ALL RIGHT!” I yelled, but he did not stop.

“You-made-me-feel-it-as-ME!” I screamed, and the fingering stopped. He smiled beatifically down at me again. His teeth were stained slightly yellow, as if he tried to keep them clean but years of cigarette and coffee stains had done their job. He smelled musky, a heady aroma of ginger and olive oil and just the right amount of sweat. He reached underneath himself and pulled his pants off, revealing a thick, curved cock with balls the size of plums. His leg muscles were thin and whipcorded with muscle, but his calves were powerful.

“That’s it, boy. As long as I made you totally gay, you were perfectly fine with all this, weren’t you? But I took the comfort away. I made you feel it as you are.”

“What are you, that you can do these things to me? To Wayne? To his brother? How can you make me feel this way? How can you make me do these things? What sort of foul thing are you?” I sobbed tearlessly.

He picked me up in his arms effortlessly, lifting me up until my face was up against his chest and my legs were splayed out wide against his hips. I could feel his hard cock beneath me, right at the edge of my hole, and my entire body shuddered. He picked me up and set my ass down on it, and I screamed in rapture. His cock was my universe, and as he slid into me, my entire body convulsed against him. I was rabid with lust and started pounding into him, over and over, my body sliding over his, slicked with sweat. He began to speak to me as if nothing were happening, and I felt it pound against my brain despite the sexual fog.

“Foul? Not foul. And while I look old, I assure you, I am much, much older than you could imagine. I was here before the first humans stepped over the glacial barrier.” He started shoving up into me, meeting my ass midway with each thrust. Loud slapping noises filled the room. “I was here before the first volcano spilled its ash into the sky, darkening it for a thousand years.” He began twisting on my newly large nipples, making them spring to life in his hands, and it was like an electrical tether was wired from them to my cock. I began leaking with each twist of my nipples and each thrust into my ass. I screamed out my eternal love for him. I wanted to die from the humiliation. “I was here before there was a world,” he yelled deeply, and I could see through my tears a nimbus surrounding him, an electric blue aura that stood out from his skin and caused the nerves where our skin met to tingle uncomfortably. He shoved into me once again, forcing me up into the air with the strength of his thrusts, and then we screamed together as I felt a geyser erupt into me, a semen enema that I felt coat me inside. I watched the nimbus rush into me, and for a moment I was outside my body, watching this aged man fully buried inside me, with my come splattering out all over his chest. Suddenly I was back in my body and screaming with pain.

I felt my jaw unhinge and push out; I thought it would break, but it stopped just short of that. My arms spread wide as every muscle in my body locked up and I felt my spine shift into a new position. I felt my ass grow underneath me, pushing me up higher on the shaft still buried inside me, and finally I felt my still-spurting cock lengthen up the line that divided Amos down the middle until it stopped halfway to the middle of his pecs. My own come slid down his chest and back onto my cock, and each time it did I felt each individual drop slide down my now super-sensitive rod.

I pushed my arms back onto the bed, impaled on his rigid shaft, and allowed my breathing to calm somewhat, though it never entirely returned to normal. Amos himself seemed to be out of breath, gathering himself. He laughed delightedly and bounced up into me a few times, chortling with glee. “Oh, you’re perfect!” he announced, and grabbed me up into his arms, physically picking me up and leading me to the bathroom. He stood me in front of the mirror, his cock still buried inside me, and began slowly fucking me as I stared in horror at the new changes.

Where once I had had a chiseled, fraternity-boy look, my jaw now protruded strongly from my face, deeply square on the sides and angled sharply at my chin. My stubble gave it an exaggerated look, defining the new curves. My mouth was much wider. I curiously opened wide and saw that I could now take in the thickest of objects. My lips pouted forward, deep and red. I looked ready for a kiss. My back was curved sharply out at the top, giving me a look like I was pushing my chest forward, and my nipples now angled directly out in front of me, large and with long nibs. Amos brushed one with his hand as he continued to leisurely slide in and out of me, letting his entire cock exit my chute then plunge back in, and my cock jumped. Oh god, my cock...

I had been large before, but now I felt freakish; it was easily as long as Wayne’s and as thick, too, maybe a half-inch thicker. It stood up proudly from my bald crotch. The steady stream of pre-come was stronger now, too. I would soak any item of clothing I chose to wear in moments if it continued like that. I felt Amos in my mind, massaging it. “It’s an aftereffect,” he cooed without speaking. “Enjoy it while it lasts, my boy.” My body’s muscles were mostly unchanged, just slightly more ridged and defined than before. I could see every muscle standing out, as if I were pumped up from a long work-out. Amos turned me to the side, and I could see the arch of my back now, leaning away from him in the middle where it pushed my chest out... and where Amos’s crotch met against mine, my ass cheeks, always full and pert, were now a caricature of what they had been before. They were almost full globes now. Amos slapped one idly and it jiggled. “My own little Bacchus now,” he grinned, and I started shaking my head in denial. But it was true. The curly hair, the exaggerated genitals, the lewd pose... I looked like a Greek or Judaic god or demon now from a bas-relief, fit only for carnal desires. I sobbed with frustration and all-encompassing shame. The mirror showed that it only made my lips pout out more.

Amos pulled out of me with a slurping noise and slid the butt-plug back into me. “Don’t want any of my gift falling out of you,” he whispered in my mind. He looked younger now, more virile than before. His hair was no longer gray—now a solid midnight black—though his features were still rugged, still Amos. I stared at him with a mixture of hate and desire and confusion that was starting to become like a second skin for me as he plopped the plug up to the base. I didn’t even flinch this time.

“Let’s see what my other two guests are up to, shall we?” he said conversationally, as if he hadn’t just fucked me into a new state of being, and he guided me back out into the bedroom and downstairs as before, with just the buttplug as the steering device. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I stayed silent. I could feel my ass swaying naturally behind me now, one heavy globe and then the other upsetting my balance slightly, the arch of my back keeping me on my feet. I kept rubbing my hand along my jaw and creaking my mouth open to feel the changes. Plastic surgery without the plastic, I thought bitterly.

As we neared the bottom of the stairs, I could still hear sounds of rutting outside. Amos opened the door for me and nudged me out onto the porch. I found Wayne standing behind a fully clothed James, his cock buried in the doctor’s ass where Wayne had ripped the fabric apart. Wayne was grunting and James was cooing in the strangest tone; otherwise we could hear nothing but the sound of Wayne’s hips as they slapped against James’s ass. “That’s enough play for now, kids,” Amos chuckled, and Wayne immediately pulled out of his brother’s chute with another plopping noise. James groaned in disappointment and tried to back into him, but Wayne just swatted him away. Sulking, James turned around and sat against the windowsill, his dick poking out of his unzipped fly. Yes, he was as large as his brother.

Amos walked over to James and commanded him to undress, and James did so immediately, sliding out of his dress shirt, slacks, and dress shoes in no time. Wayne and I stared at each other as Amos instructed James in what to do. I could see from Wayne’s erection that he loved my new look. I wanted to grimace, and I wanted to run into his arms for comfort. Instead, I stood there and grabbed hold of myself with both hands and started pulling on myself. Wayne grinned and walked over to me, placing his hands on my own, letting them slide up and down as I slid up and down on my own shaft.

Amos gathered James’s clothes and started putting them on himself; they were a perfect fit, if slightly too tight. James just continued to lean on the windowsill, now naked, fingering his own ass. He wasn’t as hairy as his brother; just a trimmed swath of blond hair on his chest, and a line down his abdomen. In every other way save the hair, he was identical to his brother. He had the same rugby build, with strong and ridged muscles and a barrel chest. Humiliatingly, I found myself staring at him and thinking what it would be like to be plugged from both ends by the Hollinger twins. The image would not leave my mind.

Amos finished dressing and looked as dapper as if he’d just stepped out of church. As he finished doing up the buttons at the wrist of the crisply starched white shirt, he stared at me. “There are truths in names, and since you were so kind,” he smirked, “to be so honest with me upstairs, I feel I should formally introduce myself. I am Asmodeus. And we—are—not—finished!”

As the last word rang out, I found myself upstairs again, with Wayne behind me and James in front of me, buried between them as they wrestled me into the bed. I cried out once in despair before the sexual fog took me again and I leaned into James’s opening gambit, a long, breathless kiss as Wayne dry-humped me from behind. The sexual haze did not hide the humiliation, but it could not stop me from joining in with gumption, either. A single uninhibited tear ran down my newly protruding jaw and onto my chin, and fell onto my wet and throbbing dick as James’s eager hands wrapped around the long shaft. I felt Wayne pull out the butt-plug again, and sighed with guilty relief when his long, thick cock slid effortlessly into my new body.

Amos...no, Asmodeus...was right. I loved it, and I hated myself for loving it.