The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“What a fucking shit-show of a day,” I grumbled to myself as I let myself into my apartment, tossing my keys onto the table next to the door. I kicked it shut behind me and walked into my living room. At least it was Friday, although I was supposed to get off work early on Fridays. Instead, I’d been fixing a server problem caused by some intern who had lied on his resume and didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. I crossed the room and stopped at my desk, sitting down and turning on my laptop. My email alerts started popping up right away.

Coffee advertisement. Dismiss.

Post office notification. Dismiss.

Muscle building tips. Dismiss.

I paused, my finger hovering over the next message as I looked at the email address it was sent from: roger.stevens@mail.usc. Roger Stevens? Surely it couldn’t be the same Roger Stevens I’d gone to school with, I thought. I also noticed the government email address… Odd. The subject on the message was “Hey, long time no see.” What if it really was my old best friend? I had no idea what he had been doing for the past few years.

I stared off into space and remembered all the times Roger had sucked my dick throughout high school. It hadn’t been a gay thing. I was straight, and I’m pretty sure he was too. It had just been a bro helping his bro out, a brojob. I’d even tried returning the favor a few times, but he was too self-conscious about his small dick to enjoy it, so it had become one sided.

It’s not gay if your balls don’t touch.

That last thought made me chuckle. I knew my girlfriend, Lola, would break up with me in a heartbeat if she knew we had done any of that. She had made her opinion clear that any guy that did anything sexual with a guy, even get his dick sucked, even one time, was gay. No exceptions, no qualifications.

But Roger had been a small, kind of submissive guy. I really didn’t think he was gay. I mean, he hadn’t exactly been drowning in pussy, but he’d done alright, especially with me as his buddy.

I clicked the notification, and my email opened, taking me straight to the message.

From: roger.stevens@mail.usc

To: tom.cain@yuuhoo.net

Subject: Hey, long time no see.

Hey, man! It’s been forever since I’ve seen you. How have you been? What have you been up to. I’d really like to catch up sometime. Let me know when you’re free—no point waiting until our next high school reunion. I just moved back to town. I’m in the Olympus apartments on 76th street, apartment 453. I’ll be in all night, so let me know if you’d like to stop by.

It really was Roger! How crazy was that? I leaned back in my chair, looking at his message and thinking. I was tired, but it was Friday… Why not go and visit my old friend? It’s not like I could go to sleep anyway, if I didn’t go see him, I was sure Lola would want to do something. She usually came over on Friday nights to watch a movie or something. I leaned forward again, my mind made up, and opened a blank message.

From: tom.cain@yuuhoo.net

To: roger.stevens@mail.usc

Subject: Re: Hey, long time no see.

Hey, Roger! It has been way too long. I’d been wondering what happened to you. I just got off work, so give me a little while and I’ll stop by. It will be good to catch up.

I shut my laptop and went into my kitchen to get the coffee pot going—I needed a boost before I went over. I considered making dinner, but figured he might want to go get something, so I decided to hold off. With the coffee brewing, I headed to my room to take a shower and change out of my work clothes.

After my shower, I stood naked in front of my closet, not sure what to wear. It seemed, frankly, a little gay to dress up to meet my old buddy. I smiled to myself. Maybe little Roger would want to relive our glory days and give me a brojob for old times’ sake, I thought as I gave my cock a little squeeze. I walked over to my dresser and pulled out some boxers, basketball shorts, and an old Grateful Dead t-shirt I’d cut the sleeves off of. Smiling to myself, I got dressed and went down to have some coffee.

I sat down at the table and sipped the bitter, hot liquid, blowing on the surface to try and get it to a more drinkable temperature. Looking over at the clock on my microwave, I realized it was already after six. I should call Lola and tell her what’s going on. I unlocked my phone and hit the phone icon. It went right to my favorites, and Lola McCormick was number one. I hit her icon and put the phone to my ear.

“Hey, sweetie,” she greeted me. “How was your day?”

“It sucked, but you won’t believe who just emailed me,” I said.

“Who?” She asked, curious.

“Remember Roger?” I prompted her.

“Stevens? Your nerdy little friend who used to follow you around in high school?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

“You guys haven’t spoken in years. What has he been up to?”

“I’m not really sure, yet. He said he’s just moved back and wants to catch up. I already told him I’d go over tonight. Do you want me to cancel?” I knew she wouldn’t, but it seemed prudent to ask anyway.

“No, that’s okay, go see him. I’m curious to hear what he’s been up to…”

“Thanks, Lo. I’m all yours tomorrow,” I promised.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said lightly. “You boys have a good time.”

“We will. Love ya, babe.”

“Love ya more. Bye.”

I hung up and put the phone in the loose pocket of my shorts before picking up my cup of coffee and taking another sip. It was the perfect temperature, so I downed the whole cup, grabbed my wallet and keys, and headed out for the Olympus apartment building.

I had never seen the building before, though I’d heard good things about it. I was impressed. It was a tall building with some actual architecture, in the artistic sense. Roger had to be doing well to live in a place like this, good for him. A doorman let me inside and I went straight for the elevators. I hit the button for the fourth floor, and it started moving so smoothly that you almost couldn’t tell. The interior of the elevator was mirrored, and I was able to take myself in from all angles. I looked casual, but good. I grinned, making a bet with myself that I could get Roger to blow me before the night was over. I didn’t spend as much time at the gym as I used to, but I still looked good.

“It’s not gay if your balls don’t touch,” I said quietly to my reflection, winking at myself.

I found apartment 453 and knocked on his door. I waited for a few moments that seemed to drag on and on, suddenly feeling a little nervous. I shouldn’t. It may have been a while since we’d seen each other, but we’d been such good buddies that there was no reason to be nervous. The door opened, and a giant, solid man was standing there, his shirt stretched tight across his muscular chest, right in front of my face, taking me by surprise.

“Oh,” I said, looking up at the face of the beast of a guy who had opened the door, thinking it looked familiar. “I’m sorry, I must have the wrong apartment. I’m looking for Roger Stevens.”

“Tom, it’s me,” the guy rumbled. I looked closer and realized why his face seemed familiar.

It was Roger.

“What happened to you?” I asked in shock, looking his body up and down, taking in his huge, muscular frame, and then I blushed, realizing what I’d done. With his door open, I noticed a funny smell coming from his apartment. I tried to place it, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t a bad smell.

Actually, it smelled pretty good, now that I thought about it.

“I joined the Navy,” his voice rumbled… Familiar, but so much deeper. “It’s so good to see you, buddy!” He moved forward and wrapped his arms around me in a hug. It was a little awkward for me, we’d never really been huggers, but… It felt good having his arms around me. I relaxed and returned the hug, wrapping my arms around his thick torso. That was when I noticed that the smell was stronger… Really strong. The smell was him. He let go and backed up again. I swayed on my feet for a moment before my head cleared, and I smiled up at him.

“Man, you’re taller,” I pointed out. “How does joining the Navy make you taller?”

“It’s a long story,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

“Well, we’ve got all night. You’ve got to tell me.”

“Haha, sure, man. Come on in,” he said, waving me into his apartment. I had been impressed by the building, but I was even more impressed by his apartment. The furniture was simple, but very nice, and it looked like a professional decorator had done the place. His smell was so strong in here that I couldn’t help but breathe deep.

“Sorry about the heat,” he said, closing the door.

“Whuh…What?” I asked, momentarily confused by what he was saying.

“The heat,” he repeated. “My air conditioner is out.” He took a seat on his couch, and I sat next to him.

“It’s fine. I didn’t even notice,” I said, but now that he’d mentioned it I realized that it was pretty warm in the apartment. “So… What the fuck, man? You’re huge!” He laughed again, throwing his head back. My eyes traced down his thick neck, over the curve of his clavicle, and down the contours of his muscular torso, barely hidden by the taught fabric of his t-shirt. By the time he stopped laughing, I had managed to pull my eyes back up to meet his face, blushing slightly. This was not the tiny guy who had sucked my dick throughout high school.

“I can’t talk about it too much. Most of it is classified,” he said, lounging confidently on his couch beside me. “But I joined an… experimental program, and this was the result,” he spread his arms wide, and I couldn’t stop myself from looking him up and down again.

“I noticed the government email,” I commented. “But I had no idea that this was even possible.”

“Yeah, they changed my life, that’s for sure.” My eyes focused on a bead of sweat that was trailing down his neck from behind his ear, and I realized that I was sweating, too.

It was hot. I was hot.

“What else can you tell me?” I asked, not wanting to push too hard or get him into trouble.

“Not a lot, but I’m sure you’ll figure some of it out on your own tonight. Damn this heat,” he muttered the last words, fanning himself. “What the hell, we’re buddies.” He reached down with his thick arms and grasped the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, tossing it to the side. A wave of his scent slapped me in the face, and I swayed on the cushions, my gaze filled by his powerful torso, glistening with sweat. Droplets clung to the light dusting of hair on his chest, and ran down the ridges of his abs.

“Woah,” I said without meaning to, staring at him with my eyes unfocused.

“You should take yours off, too, buddy. Just like old times.” He said. My hands reached down automatically and grabbed the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up and off my head. The exposure to the air cooled me a little right away, tightening my nipples into stiff nubs. I pulled my eyes back up to his face. We had gone shirtless all the time when we were in school, and it had always felt so natural. He looked like he felt natural now.

I just felt exposed.

Is this how he’d felt in high school?

I was acutely aware of my hard nipples. I had always been proud of my body, but I felt so weak compared to him now. I was so used to him being the weaker one that being dwarfed by him had me feeling insecure. I realized that I was breathing heavy, almost panting, and forced myself to slow my breaths, taking long, deep pulls of the hot, musky air that filled his apartment.

“I feel… funny.” I said, my eyes going to his nipples to see if they were hard, too.

“Kind of good, like you’re a little high?” He asked knowingly, and I was vaguely aware of the smile spreading on his face.

“Yeah,” I said, surprised to hear myself nearly slurring the word, sounding almost drunk.

“Don’t worry about it, buddy. That happens to some guys around me, just let yourself enjoy it. Relax with me.” He leaned back and folded his hands behind his head, relaxing. My attention slid from his nipple, along the side of his torso, and settled on his armpit. The hair there glistened, dripping with sweat. That smell, his smell, that had me feeling so good, grew stronger, filling the air.

I felt completely fucking stoned.

“How…” I slurred, unable to finish the question.

“It’s a pheromone thing, buddy. Don’t worry about it, just relax with me,” he repeated, understanding what I had been trying to ask.

I nodded obediently, giving into the high.

Feeling so good.

Feeling so relaxed.

He was still talking, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was just staring at his armpit. A bead of sweat ran down the hairs there and dripped down to the couch. Another ran down the side of his torso, gathering more sweat as it went until it met the waistband of his shorts. I kept breathing. I had lost control again, panting next to him on the couch, fascinated by his armpit. it was getting closer. He didn’t seem to be moving, yet his armpit was coming closer and closer toward my face. My vision was filled by the sweat-soaked hair by the time I realized that I was the one moving, leaning forward until my face pressed against him. I gasped, my high surging to greater heights with the strength of his scent.

His pheromones.

When I gasped, some of his sweat had leaked into my open mouth, the salty taste bursting across my taste buds. My tongue went searching for more. I breathed deep, his scent so strong, so good, flooding into my lungs, into my brain. My head spun, and my hand came up to steady me, resting against his solid chest.

So hard.

So strong.

So hot beneath my fingers.

He chuckled as I pressed my face into his armpit, huffing in his scent while I licked and sucked at the sweaty hair. My head was swimming, and I felt like I was about to jizz my pants. It was at that moment I realized that I was moaning.

Moaning like a slut.

Moaning like a bitch.

Moaning like a faggot.

“Well, that didn’t take long,” he said, continuing to chuckle, keeping his arm raised to give me access. I clung to his chest, my world spinning from the overload of pheromones, sweat, and muscle.

What the fuck is going on? I thought deliriously, licking and sucking at the flesh around his pit, moaning all the while.

“Do you remember all those blowjobs in high school?” He asked, putting his hand to my forehead and shoving me back so he could bring his arm down. Sweat and drool were dripping down my face as I stared at him, at his sweaty body, at the smug smile on his face.

I remembered my bet with myself, that I’d be able to get him to give me a blowjob tonight. I already knew that I’d lost that bet. There was no way this beast was going to suck my dick.

I nodded in answer, still panting, licking my lips to catch some of the salty sweat that clung to them.

He casually reached down and unfastened the button on his pants, lowering the zipper and setting his cock burst free.

It was huge.

It was thick.

It was dripping.

His foreskin was pulled tight, the tip of his glans sticking out, glistening with his precum. There was no better word to describe it, it was meat. Thick, veiny, delicious looking meat.

Delicious? Why had I thought that?

I kept staring at it, experiencing cognitive dissonance as I remembered the tiny dick he’d had in high school. That cock had been laughable. This cock was fantastic. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from it.

“It wasn’t this big back then, was it?” He asked.

“N-no,” I stammered, my speech slurred.

“You know, if you think about it, you owe me a lot of blowjobs, don’t you?” He said reasonably, gasping the base of his cock and waving it back and forth.

I nodded again, stupidly, my eyes glued to his dripping meat, a string of drool running from the corner of my parted lips.

“Well, get down here,” he said, reaching out and curling a hand around the back of my head. He guided me down to his cock, my mouth opening wider along the way, and then I tasted it for the first time.

I had never tasted anything like it. His smell had been so good. His sweat had tasted so good. The taste of his cock dwarfed both of those things combined. I let my tongue explore it, tasting the precum that had been soaking his shaft, but he kept pushing me farther and farther down, filling my mouth, stretching my throat. I started to gag.

“No need for that, buddy. Just relax and suck it.” And I did. A rush of desire ran over me, sending goosebumps spreading across my flesh, and I moaned as I sank farther down his shaft.

I didn’t gag. I didn’t need to. I just needed to keep going.

I could feel it moving down my throat, and I couldn’t breathe anymore. I didn’t care about that either. He held my head against his pelvis, and I realized with wonder that I had taken it all down my throat. His fingers tangled in my hair and pulled me up and off his cock with a loud slurp. I let out a moan of loss

“Stand up and take off your shorts,” he ordered. I got to my feet, swaying for a moment, and shoved my shorts and boxers to the ground. My cock slapped up against my stomach, splashing precum on my unimpressive abs. He laughed. “I remembered it being bigger,” he said, and I flushed in humiliation. “Get back down here.” I sat back on the couch and folded forward, my humiliation already forgotten in the wave of a desperate need to have his cock back in my mouth. As I got close, he tangled a hand in my hair once more and placed the other on my throat, guiding me back onto his cock. He held on firmly and guided me up and down his cock, masturbating himself with my face.

“I can feel it in your throat,” he chuckled, sending me into another fit of broken moans as he continued forcing me up and down.

“Mmm—mmm—mmm—mmm—mmm!” I surrendered to him, letting him use me. It felt good. It felt right.

“You know,” he said, breathing heavy. “You owe me so many blowjobs, it will take forever if we do it one at a time.” I knew it was true, and blushed again because I looked forward to paying my debt. “But, if you let me fuck that ass,” he took the hand from my throat and reached around me, sliding it down the crack of my ass, “I’ll give you credit for two blowjobs. How does that sound?” He pulled me from his cock again.

I just panted for a moment, not fully understanding, just wanting his cock back.

“Uhhhhnnn,” I groaned. “Gooooooood.” He laughed and let go of me. I leaned forward to start sucking his cock again. He stopped me with a hand on my chest, and then gave me a powerful shove, sending me onto my back, my limbs flailing in the air. He stood up and pushed his pants the rest of the way off, towering over me. I couldn’t take my eyes off his cock.

“Flip over,” he ordered, reaching down and grabbing my hips. He spun me onto my stomach, manipulating me with a minimal amount of effort. “I don’t want to look at you when I fuck you. I’m not a faggot.” I noticed his emphasis on the word “I’m,” and as my face pressed into the cushions I was grateful that he couldn’t see me burning red in response. I felt his weight settle on top of me.

His heat.

His smell.

His cock, pressing against my hole.

My mind cleared a little, and I realized, truly realized, what was about to happen. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t let Roger fuck me. That was so gay, such a faggy thing to do. I couldn’t go through with it. I needed to get up, to stop him, to go home and call my girlfriend and fuck her instead. My mind got caught up on the absurdity of me fucking anyone. Compared to his cock, my little dick was laughable. And then it was too late. My muscles gave way, and the first few inches of his cock slid smoothly into me.

I hadn’t even realized the struggle was happening, and it was over.

I gasped, expecting to feel the pain of being forced open any moment now. A few more inches slid in.

Any moment. The pain would hit any moment.

Another inch.

And another.

And another.

The pain was coming. Any moment now. Any…

His pelvis pressed against my ass.

“I’m all the way in, faggot,” he said, sending a rush of humiliation through me that exited through my mouth as a moan. “Yeah, I knew you’d like this.” He withdrew about half way, and then pulled me back with him as he got to his knees. I felt the air hit my dick as it bobbed rigidly between my legs, leaking. My head stayed pressed into the cushions, my moans muffled by his couch. He reached around, and I felt his hand squeeze my dick. He laughed and gave it a few taps before taking his hand away, painting my face red with shame once again. Then he slammed all the way forward again, and I felt it, his balls slapping against mine.

I gasped, my own words echoing through my head.

It’s not gay unless your balls touch.

He withdrew, and my balls felt cool as his heavy sack pulled away. Then he slammed forward, his balls slapping against mine as his cock forced my ass open wide again. And again. And again.

It’s not gay unless your balls touch!

SLAP!

It’s not gay unless your balls touch!

SLAP!

It’s not gay unless your balls touch!

SLAP!

I was moaning like a whore, taking delight as he stuffed his cock into me and slapped my balls around with his own. Each thrust, each slap, sent a tremendous wave of pleasure through my body. It felt so good. It felt better than anything I’d ever felt. No wonder girls love getting fucked, I thought, and lost control. I knew it was going to happen, I could feel it coming, I could feel each slap driving me forward, closer and closer to the edge of a cliff. I was going over! I couldn’t stop myself, and I didn’t want to.

SLAP!

“Ohhh!”

SLAP!

“Ohhhhhh!”

SLAP!

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh! Oh oh ohhhhhhhh!” I traied off into moans and squeals my body quivering as I pushed back into each thrust, pleasure like nothing I’d ever experienced exploding through my body, each thrust of his cock, each slap of his balls, driving it to greater heights. My dick exploded, squirting cum onto the couch. He kept fucking, punching his cock into me as I came. He slid all the way in and pressed himself against me, the heat of his balls giving my own, smaller nuts a thrill. He grabbed my hips and shifted position slightly, forcefully placing me where he wanted me.

“Yeah, that is not the only time that’s going to happen. Buckle up, faggot.” He pulled out and slammed home again.

“Oh!” I cried out in surprise, the pleasure returning. I knew I shouldn’t be letting him call me a faggot, but I also knew he was right. This felt too good. And…

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

I had lost the war. I knew it, I wasn’t fighting it. I had no desire to fight it. He kept fucking, and it felt just as good as before… No, it didn’t… It felt better. My ass was relaxed, welcoming each thrust, tightening each time he withdrew in a vain attempt to hold him inside. My balls were drawing up tight again already, but that didn’t stop his heavy, low hanging nuts from slapping firmly against them with each powerful thrust into my unresisting ass.

“You’ve got a nice pussy, faggot,” he whispered into my ear before sliding his tongue along my earlobe and giving it a little nibble. “It’s hungry for my cock, just like I knew it would be.” He wrapped his hands around my throat, squeezing lightly but forcefully.

Controlling.

Dominating.

Owning.

I was moaning, and squealing, and I felt it happening again. Pleasure radiating from my pussy. Pleasure radiating from my nuts. So much pleasure. My dick jerked and dribbled a second load onto the couch. He didn’t stop fucking, and I didn’t stop either. My pussy felt so good, and it was like each time his balls slapped against mine I could feel myself growing gayer and gayer.

I’m a faggot, I thought, the pleasure already bringing me close to a third orgasm.

I’m a faggot.

I’m a faggot!

“Time to drive it all home,” he said, though it seemed like he was talking to himself more than he was to me. “I’m going to let you have it, Faggot. I’m giving you my cum. There’s no going back after that. Do you want it, faggot?”

“Ohhhh, fuck! Yes! Fuck! Fuck! Yes! Ohhhhh, fuuuuck!” He moaned and pressed himself deep into me. I could feel his balls drawing up, sliding along mine, as he started pumping my guts full of cum.

My vision exploded into fractal colors, like a kaleidoscope, and I experienced, for the third time, the greatest pleasure of my life as I felt him cum inside me, my dick dripping a few feeble drops onto the already sticky cushions. Finally, he withdrew, pulling his cock free and allowing me to collapse weakly onto his couch. I just lay there, panting. I felt good. I felt satisfied.

His hand grabbed my arm, and I gasped in surprise as he pulled me from his couch, letting me fall to the floor. I looked up to see him holding my clothes, bundled in one powerful fist. I watched meekly as he took my shirt and used it to wipe all my cum off of his couch.

“Get out,” he said, tossing my clothes down at me. I stared up at him in shock.

“B-but, I thought we were hanging out,” I protested.

“I don’t hang out with faggots, now get dressed and get out.”

“But we’re friends!” I cried, getting to my feet and obediently pulling on my clothes, noticing how obvious the cum smeared all over my shirt was. He laughed.

“We’re not friends anymore. We stopped being friends the moment my cock slid inside that pussy. Now, go home, and I’ll let you know when I want to fuck you again.”

Dressed, and on the verge of crying, I started walking toward the door. Even so, the knowledge that he planned to fuck me again gave me a little thrill.

“Oh, wait,” he said. “Come back.” I turned around, relief making me giddy. He wanted me to stay! I was going to get to stay with him a little longer! I walked back over to him, and he put his hands on my shoulders, forcing me down to my knees. He grabbed his cock with one hand, and my head with the other, and pushed it into my mouth. It was still leaking a bit of cum, and it tasted so good that I just started sucking, trying desperately to get more.

“Here you go,’ he said, and his cock exploded in my mouth. I swallowed, and swallowed, and then I realized that he was filling my mouth with a steady stream.

My eyes shot wide as I gulped again, and again.

My dick went rigid in my shorts as I swallowed again, and again.

My mind shattered, and I swallowed. My dick exploded in my shorts without me touching it, and somehow my balls found an untapped reserve, pumping a load into my shorts, soaking my crotch as I swallowed my former friend’s piss.

“Haha, you’re so fucking done.”