The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I woke up on Tuesday. I felt cheated, having had no weekend. But I had nobody to blame but myself.

The boys took turns watching over me. Every so often, I’d wake enough to eat, and they’d feed me.

Nagi had danced his spell, with the help of the other boys as audience, to put me into a sleep that would allow me to heal. When I consulted the interface later, I was shocked to see how close I’d come to death.

Just as I had planned, the boys had functioned fine during my incapacitation. They’d kept things clean, started working out daily, and handled any issues that came up. Everything we had planned was on the computers, and I’d taken notes along the way as well.

One of the first things Paddy had taken care of was having the mailboxes installed at the bottom of the stairs, on the side. The rest of the boys had all done their part as well, and mostly helped the workers as much as they could.

Nagi and Rut, with help, had seen to the cleaning up of the loft area over where we would put the kitchen. The dust was, they told me, almost six inches deep, and there had been debris beneath that had made things a bit treacherous.

The boys’ debit cards had arrived on Monday, which meant they were free to make purchases that were needed. Jack had loaned them one of his crew, a reckless blonde by the name of Darrin, to drive them around when needed. Arkansas had me rolling on the floor with descriptions of Darrin maneuvering through Reno traffic.

The boys had bought several power-washers and a couple of shop-vacs to clean up the loft area. They’d also pulled up what was left of the old flooring, so it was ready for any work that needed to be done.

The boys had gotten into the habit, each night, of having a pow-wow over my unconscious body, discussing what needed to be done. On several occasions, they had agreed to let Nagi use his magic.

I slept through it all, having erotic dreams of having my boys around me. So I can’t complain.

I was pretty shaky for most of the day, until Dagger pointedly told me that I had an alternative. So I went to the MasterPC, and rejuvenated myself. I thought things over, and had Paddy tattoo a tribal-style conch shell tattoo on my forearm. Then I used the MasterPC to turn the tattoo into my own personal power meter.

I took a tour of what the boys had done, and was impressed.

Paddy had framed some large prints of erotic art and hung them around the apartment. We had examples of Tom of Finland, Etienne, Kirwan, and others. There was even a couple of the 3-D art by Ulf and Stefan. Lucky and Dagger had decided to send donations to each of the artists (and to the Tom of Finland Foundation) through Paypal.

Paddy had designed weight benches for the boys, and had given the designs to a welder in town. They were delivered the morning I woke up.

Lucky had ordered more prints, posters from gay bars around the world, for the bar.

Rut had created, with help from Arkansas and Dagger, long low benches to put under each window upstairs, so that the boys could lounge in the sunlight. Anytime I lost track of Nagi, I could find him dozing in the sun.

Ian had spent most of his time by my side, while studying some of the books we’d bought.

Arkansas, Dagger, and Lucky had spent some time fixing up the “empty room” on the second floor. They’d painted all the walls and ceilings matte black, with thin stripes of fluorescent paint running wild across the walls. They’d installed black-light light fixtures in the rooms, and erected partitions at various places to create hallways and nooks and crannies. There was also a handrail along the wall at the height of a normal man’s waist. The flooring was industrial rubber flooring, to make cleaning up easier.

This space, accessible only through a stairway up from the bar, would be our “backroom.” No other gay bar in Reno had one, and this one would be a closely-held secret from the authorities.

The boys were halfway towards finishing the stairway, as they had to wait until after the crew went home.

“It’d be hard to explain how Paddy’s painting walls telekinetically,” Dagger told me.

Nagi’s magic had also made it harder go in there to work, since he had made the door to the upstairs invisible to anyone, unless they were male and looking for such a door because they wanted to have sex. The boys had been a little put out to find out later that Nagi could go in any time he wanted, and could take others inside regardless of their thoughts.

Arkansas had also spent some time ordering audio equipment for the bar. Nagi had helped him design sound baffles that would insulate the sound from the areas above. A separate sound system would pipe sound into the backroom.

The crew had finished hanging new doors and installing plumbing fixtures in the second floor apartments. The first thing they had done on the first floor was to finish Paddy and Lucky’s demolition job, tearing out the old plaster on the interior walls and baring the old columns which supported the floors above. When I woke up, they were starting on ripping up the old flooring, so new under-flooring could be put down before the new stone flooring could be put down.

I let Jack know that I was OK again (the boys had simply told him that I was ill), and he told me he’d let me know if they needed me for anything.

After my boys got used to me getting up and around again, they presented me with bills, for all the stuff they’d bought from their own money. I transferred money into their accounts to make up for it.

I found that Lucky was already programming a computer for use as a cash register. It would also record inventory and act as a time-clock.

Most of the boys had also left, piled on my desk, various reports. One of them was the list of the equipment and supplies for a microbrew operation. From the look of things, Rut and Lucky had cooperated in designing the microbrew area in the loft.

Another report was an estimation of what kind of personnel we would need. I was surprised to see that Dagger had come up with this. It included wait staff, a kitchen manager, and a couple people to act as reporters for the newspaper we’d discussed.

Ian had come up with our own bar poster. The design for our sign dominated the upper left quadrant, while a recognizable Paddy looked over his shoulder at the viewer, while rubbing a paddled naked ass. In the foreground was a meaty hand holding a leather paddle. I only had to look down to see that same hand.

“You were unconscious, I used you as a model,” Ian shrugged when I asked him about it.

The boys had also consulted together on décor, as my own ideas had only been rough concepts rather than details. But I liked what they had come up with.

Each of the windows would be screened, on the inside, by heavy metal grates enameled black. Decorative bars on the outside would protect the windows from being broken. The doors would be replaced by wood artificially aged and bound in antique-looking iron.

The boys had looked at zoning ordinances and decided that the sign would be mounted flush on the front of the building, just below the second floor windows.

They had also discovered that it was permissible to put sockets into the sidewalk, so that they could put up brass stanchions with heavy velvet ropes between them.

They had decided to use the second door from the corner as the main entrance for the restaurant. On the other end would be the main entrance for the bar, one door from the end. The others would be fitted with fire door mechanisms to satisfy the authorities.

As previously decided, the restaurant area would double as a dance floor, so it would have hardwood flooring.

Nagi and Arkansas had designed lighting. The daytime lighting could be retracted upwards, to accommodate the dance floor lights. The boys had decided on some great ironwork lantern fixtures, to be mounted on the walls. They’d also decided on fabrics, booths, tables, and chairs.

Fog machines and bubble machines had been ruled out, unless I felt differently. I didn’t over-rule the boys.

The boys had also continued my efforts in ordering things the crew would need ahead of time, to make them available when needed.

Somehow Paddy had found the time to render it all in 3D. The boys watched me, anxious, as I looked it over.

“Relax,” I grinned. “This looks fantastic. The place is for you, anyway.”

I took Ian for his check-up with the doctor on Thursday, as scheduled. The doctor had pronounced him healing well, chalking up the accelerated healing to his age.

Afterwards, we went to give a deposition on the entire mess, and I delivered copies of the pictures and X-rays the Emergency Room folks had taken to the police department’s attorney. Captain Burgess tried to talk to me, but I ignored him.

By Friday afternoon, the crew had put in subflooring and marked out where the hardwood flooring would go in, as well as where the bar would go.

Saturday it was time to go back to San Francisco, and all of the boys made me promise to drive the entire way. It was a four and a half hour drive, but we had a good time talking and laughing, and there is some really pretty country along the way.

When we got to the shop, the staff looked like they were afraid of us, almost, but everything fit fine (damn fine, in fact). We stored our stuff in the truck, and had lunch before heading back to home.

Sunday, the boys and I went shopping again, this time at fabric stores. We grabbed a couple bolts of denim, blue and black, as well as other fabrics that suited our needs.

When we got back, I spent some time reworking the fabric into clothing for us all. We each had a full wardrobe, although I wondered how often Paddy would change his clothes. Dagger immediately set to bleaching all but a couple of his jeans.

Over the next few days, individual styles among the boys settled in. Paddy was usually shirtless, wearing jeans and his leather armband on his right arm. Lucky tended to wear shirts and pants similar to what a mechanic or shop-worker might wear. Nagi still wore his sweat pants, except when he was upstairs, when they quickly came off. Rut was wearing shorts most of the time, and nobody batted an eyelash (privately he wore his leather loincloth). Dagger also went shirtless a lot, wearing his bleachers and braces. Arkansas wore jeans, sometimes with a t-shirt or flannel shirt, sometimes without, but never without his hat.

Ian tended to change every day. Sometimes just a t-shirt with his jeans, sometimes just a plain button down checked shirt. Every once in a while, if he were helping out the crew or the boys with some job, he’d take off his shirt.

Every morning we all had a workout together, first in bed and then in the exercise room.

Deliveries of building materials were coming in each day, and Jack tended to swear a lot about the loft. It presented him with some challenges to put in the hardwood floor, since the loft had never really been intended for anything remotely like what we were going to be using it for.

I contacted Jarrod, the cute manager from the all-night restaurant down the street, and offered him a job. He was thrilled with the idea of getting off the night-shift for a change, not to mention the increase in pay I was offering.

I put an ad in the paper for the other positions, and Jarrod and one of the boys was present at each interview. Some of the applicants were no good, since they had hang-ups about gays, or had serious attitude problems in one way or another. Others had no idea of how to act in an environment like ours, having only been in fast food in the past.

Jarrod had recommended a couple of the cooks from his old job, so I invited them to apply. One or two didn’t make the cut, but I made one of them kitchen manager, a cute kid from some former Soviet country, because of his attitude and enthusiasm.

Of the women that applied, only one made the cut, and not because of discrimination. Suzy was a decent cook, and I got the impression she could also, in a pinch, handle dishwashers and bussers if needed. The rest couldn’t talk to the boys without getting all gushy, even when I told them the boys would be the bartenders.

The boys worked out a schedule so that two of them would work the bar on the day shift, and each of them had two nights off. However, they all worked Thursday, Friday and Saturday.

Like I had planned, Paddy and I would work the door, and the rest would work the bar. Dagger would bounce and forth between bar and door, as needed.

Like practically every gay bar I’d ever been in, there would be no cocktail waitresses or waiters. Folks who wanted drinks would go to the bar.

Arkansas would be controlling the music from the bar as well. He and Nagi had set up a few pre-programmed “themes” for the lights, but the lights would react to the music. Lucky set up a separate computer for the two of them to use, although it also acted as a register during rushes.

Jarrod had suggested a touch-screen for orders, and he and Lucky had a serious discussion about it. When Lucky pointed out the usual lifetime of a touch-screen, especially in situations where hands were likely to be greasy or wet (about three months) and the cost of maintaining or replacing them, Jarrod had graciously withdrawn the suggestion.

When Lucky showed him the system he’d worked on, Jarrod pronounced himself satisfied, and set to working on a training program for the staff.

Jack had the kitchens and restroom finished before the outer area, as I had requested, in time for the walk-in freezer and refrigerator to be installed. Thereafter, our new cooks served the crew lunch every day, as they got used to working together and the recipes the boys had put together. Our new waiters worked prep for them.

Our cooks pulled together real great. As expected Anton and Suzy kept things running smoothly, and Suzy kept the usual kitchen shenanigans to a minimum. I’d already warned the cooks that I wanted them to enjoy their work, but mischief that could hurt or harm someone would be cause for termination.

I discussed an idea with Jarrod, Anton, Suzy, and the boys, and they loved it. It would be an immediate clientele builder for the restaurant, and build some good will for us.

The contractor for the parking lot had already started, and the street across from us was lined with trees and shrubs waiting to go in. The crew parked up and down the street instead of on the vacant lot, and a few parked in the alley with my truck.

One day Jack came up to me, shaking his head. “You know, I had to do a double-take there, the first time I saw your truck,” he told me.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“It looked just like a truck one of my guys drove,” he told me. “Young guy, went by the name of Scoobie. But he took off sometime back, never heard from him again.”

I just shrugged, although I got a chill down my spine.

“Just funny how your mind works sometimes,” Jack told me. “Of course, your truck is a lot different.” He walked away, but Lucky caught my eye and winked.

The boys also worked on getting the storeroom in the basement ready, which took a lot of sweating. The walls and all were power-washed, getting rid of years of grime and dirt. Jack lent me a couple of his guys to help knock some of the separating walls down, to make the space bigger. Then the walls had to be sealed and refinished with rough wood paneling. Rough wood flooring was also put down, as well as an idea of Rut’s, black felt stapled up to the overhead beams, to keep dust and such to a minimum.

We’d already been getting deliveries of foodstuffs, now we were ready to start getting deliveries of the booze. Rut and Ian laid out a plan of organizing everything, and there were plenty of shelves built to hold everything we’d need.

During one of their pow-wows, the boys had decided that there was to be no “garbage” liquor served. Everything was going to be top-shelf, or nothing. I agreed with their assessment, but one of the distributors in town hated us for it, since they only stocked the lower-end brands.

Which is not to say we had only one brand of each type. There are a number of good brands for different types of liquor.

The liquor started arriving as Jack and his crew started putting together the bar itself.

Jack and I had a slight argument over the bar. Jack wanted to floor the raised walkway behind the bar in plain linoleum. I was holding out for hardwood. Jack argued that the rubber mats we’d be required to have (they have plenty of holes for spilled liquid to disperse into) would be fine over linoleum. The boys finally settled the argument by telling him that we’d have the hardwood.

The boys also decided that the rubber mats would be power-washed every night, and the hardwood mopped as well.

I’d hired myself a couple of people as reporters and photographers, and they’d started making the rounds of the gay bars. They’d tried to find the gay groups that were rumored to be in the area, but could find nothing.

Flyers went up advertising the newspaper, and my reporters were put to work selling ads as well. I spent a little time every day setting up the layout, placing the ads and articles, and so on. The first issue rolled out and was delivered to every gay bar or gay-friendly outfit in the area.

We immediately got calls from people in outlying areas, so I put a couple folks in Tahoe, Carson and other nearby areas on the payroll. We got ads from some unlikely places (including the army surplus store in the area), and requests for personals. I made it very clear that the only personal ads I’d allow were those with taste and decorum. I rejected a lot of personals.

Those two weeks flew by. Just as Jack and his crew were leaving Friday, I got a phone call.

“Mr. O’Duine? This is Nate Tarkelson.” Nate was the agent I’d sent my novel to.

“Mr. Tarkelson, an honor to hear from you,” I told him.

“Call me Nate, please,” he responded. “I’ve got two publishers who want your book. Can you be in New York on Monday to meet with me, and we can look over the contracts?”

“I can,” I told him cautiously. “I’ve got some business at home I’d prefer to keep an eye on, but I should be able to hand things over for a couple days.”

“I’ll give you my personal cell number, just let me know when you’ll be arriving. I’ll take care of your hotel, and meet you at the airport.”

“Alright,” I agreed, shrugging.

The boys were set on all of us going to New York, until I pointed out how much there was still to be done at home. The bar was still waiting for the upholstery we’d ordered, as well as a number of fixtures. Arkansas and Nagi hadn’t received all the music they’d ordered. There were still deliveries of alcohol to be received, as well as the microbrew supplies. The first batch of microbrew needed to be started. Suzy and Anton were to start interviewing for dishwashers and busboys. And so on.

“I want all of you to sit down and start compiling everything that still needs to be done,” I ordered them. “We’ll go over it all after dinner.”

As Ian and I heated up some pre-cooked dinner, the boys sat down to do as I said.

“Unc, I’d like to go,” Ian told me. “There’s nothing here that I have to be doing, but I could go see some of the museums and all.”

“I’ll give it some serious thought,” I told him.

After dinner we gathered around the table and each of the boys went over what had to be done still. I carefully considered the jobs each one would have to do.

“OK, here it is,” I told them. “Ian’s going. I can take one of you with me, this time. Paddy, I need you here. There’s too much to do, and you’re one of the few I can trust to see to the layout of the next edition of the paper while I’m gone. Arkansas and Nagi have too much going on. Rut, sorry guy, but I don’t think New York is ready for you yet; that’s another reason I can’t take Nagi either. Lucky, I’m afraid I need you here as well. I do not need luck when I’m negotiating with the publishers. Actually, I don’t want luck. I want this contract on my own, understood?”

Each of the guys nodded, even as they glanced at Dagger with peevish looks.

“Dagger, you can go this time, but you better be on your best behavior,” I told him. “I’ll go online to get the tickets and get luggage tomorrow. You two can start looking at what you want to pack tonight, and maybe the rest of you can be happy enough for them to help them out.” I looked around the table at them. “Be good about this, it sounds like this will not be the first time, so the rest of you may get your chance.”

The tickets were easy to find and pay for online, and getting luggage was no big deal. We were packed by Saturday noon, so we all concentrated on doing our usual thing. Sunday afternoon turned into a big romp on the bed, and we all went to sleep early, since Ian, Dagger, and I needed to be at the airport early.