The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Campus Case Study

Part 11: Biology.

Nick’s midterm essay was a mass of contradictions. He made very specific statements, then proved them false. His views on sexuality, gender, even his own manhood were changing. The essay did make clear that he was experiencing difficulty fully integrating the different facets of his new personality. I was going to have to rectify that before continuing in my quest for scientific proof that Psychology and Gender could be manipulated for the greater good.

I was terribly curious to see what he would look like this morning. And to hear about his week on the feminine side.

Today I was showing a short video in class on the biological sources of traits. It’s a fascinating film on nurture vs. nature which generally sparks a lively debate about the origins of gender roles and sexuality. There are fascinating offshoots to this debate, such as the question of familial relations. If traits are determined through genetics, then shouldn’t position in the hierarchical structure of the family bear no lasting effect on a person? No “middle-child syndrome” as it were. Wouldn’t the dispute about equitable treatment of male and female students in a school setting be terminated because boys’ and girls’ intelligence would be determined at birth? And if gender behavior is genetic, then isn’t homosexuality a naturally occurring and therefore acceptable mode of behavior?

None of these questions would be resolved in the space of one class period. However, my research was aiming to disprove all of these theories.

Nick hurried into the classroom late today. That had never happened before. He’s always been punctual, if not early. He paused in the doorway and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

I looked him over. He wore dress shoes, pleated slacks, and a sweater. His dark blond hair was carefully styled. Ad I think he was wearing lip-gloss.

He took small quick steps to his desk, sat, and crossed his legs at the knee.

I turned on the video and watched as the pulse jerked his foot slightly. His sheer socks resembled stockings. Nick had definitely been living the part. He was externalizing beautifully. The question remained had he internalized it?

The video never felt so long. I sat in the back of the room watching the second hand on the clock sweep around. As class ended I announced that Wednesday we would discuss this in depth; the class was assigned to prepare for a debate on the issues raised dealing with nature vs. nurture.

Nick sat at his desk watching me pack up. I found it odd that he didn’t approach me and start talking, as had become our routine.

“Nick,” I said, “You look very nice today.”

He smiled, his cheeks reddening.

“Overslept a little this morning?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s wrong this week. I can’t seem to get ready on time.” His voice had a husky quality.

I was ready to leave. “Shall we go?”

He uncrossed his legs and stood, then preceded me out the door.

A student running down the hall elbowed Nick on his way past.

Nick cried out in surprise, as his books fell from his arms. One skittered across the floor.

I stooped to retrieve it. It was a journal. Interesting. I wondered just what was on Nick’s mind.

“Are you okay?” I asked, handing him the book.

“Yes, I think so.”

I helped him to his feet.

He brushed off the knees of his slacks, then we walked back to my office.

Nick gracefully slid into the chair, smoothing his slacks on his lap.

“Beach boy,” I said, shutting the office door.

Nick slipped into his suggestive state.

I took out my camera and snapped several shots of fem-Nick. He looked like a pretty-boy this way.

I picked up the journal and sat at my desk. Nick had begun keeping it last Monday. The first entry was rather bland. I leafed through. Apparently to Nick a stereotype female writes everything in her diary.

Thursday’s entry was intriguing.

...I’ve been wondering about Mike. Marty trashes him all the time now. I went to see if he’s ok but he was at work. I followed him when he left. He went back to the same house he went to the night he was sucking on Marty’s dick. I wonder who the guy is...

“Nick, from your journal I gather that you had an emotional week. How do you feel?”

“I’m okay.”

“Really? I’d imagine you’d feel a bit drained after wearing your heart on your sleeve for a full week. Tell me, how did your friends treat you?”

“They were mean. They think something’s wrong with me.”

“Do tell. What do they think is wrong with you?”

“Carm thinks I’m doing drugs. I told him I haven’t smoked in a couple weeks.”

“Excellent. What else do they think?”

“Marty thinks I’m a ‘closet queer.’”

“Marty’s a charming boy, I gather. We’ll table that for now. I’m intrigued by your encounter with Mike. Can you explain it to me?”

“Thursday night I followed him when he left work. He didn’t know I was there. He went back to the house that night. The window was open. I think the man there is a magician.”

“A magician?”

“Yes. It sounded like he was practicing a hypnosis trick.”

A chill shot down my spine. “Mike was being hypnotized? Do you remember what was being said?”

“I couldn’t hear everything. It sounded like the man was telling Mike not to go to men’s rooms anymore.”

There was a man in this very town hypnotizing men to explore sexuality issues? This was preposterous! No one could be doing the same research I was. I had studied for years! Unless he was not pursuing this in a scientific manner. I’d need to know more.

“Do you recall why he said that—about the men’s rooms?”

“Mike was going there to meet men to suck them off.”

Could it be that this man was hypnotically programming men to act as casual sex partners?

“Nick, this week you will keep an eye on that house and Mike. You will discover what goes on there. You will take your camera with you and take pictures. But you must not be seen by the man in the house or Mike. Is that clear?”


“You’ve been working out, I see. Your arms and chest look great in that sweater. Have you been riding your bike?”

“Yes.” Nick uncrossed his legs.

“What happens?”

“When I get dressed to go riding I get really hard. Then I have to jerk off. Then I ride.”

“Excellent, Nick. This week you will continue to become aroused by spandex. It is becoming a sexual object for you. You are aroused by spandex—whether wearing it, thinking of it, or seeing it. You will want more spandex. You will go shopping for spandex this week. Is that clear?”


“You will no longer behave like your stereotype woman. You will keep the behaviors you liked and lose the ones you didn’t. You will not have as much difficulty getting ready. You will not wear lip-gloss this week. Is that clear?”


“This week’s lesson was about biology. We will discuss nature vs. nurture during Wednesday’s class. I think Wednesday after class you’ll have to return here. Is that clear? Wednesday after class you’ll come to my office for extra help.”


I pulled a tissue from a box behind my desk. “Wipe off your gloss.”

Nick cleaned his lips.

“Do you have nay questions?”


“Excellent. 1...2...3.”

Nick blinked rapidly. He spread his legs a bit. “Is it time to go?” he asked, his voice not as husky as before.

I nodded. “Don’t forget to prepare for the debate on nature vs. nurture on Wednesday.”

Nick stood and nodded. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

To be continued in Part 12...

Campus Case Study

Part 12: Wednesday.

I had a lot of plans for Wednesday this week, and I was happy to see Nick seated at his desk when I arrived at the classroom. He wore dress shoes with jeans and a sweater. It looked as though his mind were trying to reconcile the different modes of dress he’d been taking on over the past few weeks. His blond hair was neatly parted, and didn’t move as he smiled and nodded at me.

The debate over nature versus nurture is an old one, with strong proponents on each side. As is usually the case, this discussion sparked a lively debate. Interestingly, Nick gave an impassioned speech on the side of nature determining character traits. If he only knew how much I was currently nurturing his personality he’d change his mind.

But that was part of my excitement in working with Nick. I was changing his mind for him, and he was blissfully unaware of the changes. He went about his life, blithely believing that his actions were determined by him alone. I was using a scientific approach to hypnosis to prove that men could be perfected not through genetics, but through manipulation of learned behavior patterns.

After class Nick approached me as I packed my attaché. He tapped the floor with his black dress shoe. “Damian, I know I usually only meet with you on Mondays, but do you have any time today for some extra help?”

A grin spread across my face. Perfect. Nick was following my suggestion to return to my office today by asking permission. How thoughtful of him. “I have some time right now if you’d like to come back to the office.”

He flashed a toothy smile. “Thanks!”

We strolled across campus to my office. Nick took long, confident strides, his head held high. His demure actions as the stereotype woman had given way to the more aggressive performance-based side of his personality. Nick was an actor at heart, and as such exuded confidence.

“Nick, how are rehearsals going for your show?”

“Pretty good, thanks.”

“When do you begin the nude rehearsals?”

“Week after next.”

“Are you ready for that?”

He shrugged. “I guess so.”

I nodded. I would have to decide soon whether to allow his hair to grow back or have him smooth for the unveiling. Not today.

Inside my office he sat across the desk from me.

“What can I do for you, Beach Boy?”

Nick’s eyes snapped shut. He really was conditioning well.

I stood and took pictures of him before continuing. “Nick, how has your week been going? Are your roommates still giving you a hard time?”

“Not really. Carm still says I must be doing drugs. I don’t know why he says that. I haven’t even smoked up in weeks.”

“What about Marty?”

“I didn’t see Marty yesterday. I went to see Mike instead.”

“You did?” I asked in surprise. “Tell me about it.”

“Mike works at a pizza place, so I went there for a slice yesterday. When he got out of work I followed him. He drove back to that house.”

“The house where the man lives?”


“What happened when he got there?”

“I parked down the street so he wouldn’t see me. I walked back to the house. I was looking in the window. Mike was sitting on a couch, and the man was sitting in a chair. It sounded like the man was interviewing him. He kept asking him questions. And Mike would answer him. He kept calling him ‘sir’.”

I had been right! Mike was being hypnotized by this man. And he called him ‘sir.’ What a good idea.

“Nick, from now on you will address me as ‘sir’. Is that clear?”


“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. You will call me ‘sir’.” I hadn’t planned on discussing Mike today, but the revelation about his activities inspired me to deviate from my plan for Nick for today. “What else did you see at the house?”

“I took pictures.”

“Where are they?”

“In my bag.”

I walked around the desk and opened his backpack. There was an envelope from a one-hour photo place. I flipped through the handful of photos. They seemed to be of a den. Mike was seated on the couch, in profile, and the man was in a chair.

The man didn’t look like I’d pictured him. He had neatly-styled blonde hair, light-colored eyes, high cheekbones and a strong jaw.

“Nick, what’s the address of the house?”

“1326 Greenhill Road. There was a name on the mailbox. C. Boldt.”

“Excellent.” I opened my desk drawer and retrieved an envelope, addressing it to C Boldt. When I’d finished I packed the envelope in the backpack, zipped it, and set it beside Nick’s chair. “Nick, there is an envelope in your bag. On your way home today you will mail it. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. Now it’s time for your next lesson. Stand, Nick.”

He got to his feet. I did enjoy how well he followed commands in this state. I was also enjoying the bulge in his jeans.

“Remove your sweater.”

Nick tugged the sweater off over his head displaying his strong chest and flat stomach. Nick was becoming a stellar example of physical fitness. I studied his smooth chest and his small, pink nipples. It was time to work on him.

“Nick, you have recently completed the feminine phase of your emotional development. Now it’s time to enter the feminine phase of your physical development. This week you will find that whenever you become aroused or have an erection your nipples will become increasingly sensitive. Your nipples will grow harder each time you become sexually excited. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent.” I fished in my pocket and pulled out two small metal clamps. “Nick, you are relaxed and happy. You will not move until I tell you to. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

I reached for his right nipple and pinched it. Hard. I pulled on his nipple until I could attach the clamp to it. The metal teeth pinched into his flesh.

Nick winced in pain, but he didn’t move.

Next I repeated the process with his left nipple.

Nick was grimacing. I picked up the camera and took several close-ups and full-length shots of Clamped-Nick.

“Nick, you will wear these clamps on your nipples all week. You are not allowed to remove them during the day. You will take off the clamps when you go to bed and reattach them when you get out of bed. If someone should see them you will simply explain that you like the way they feel. And you do like the way the clamps feel, pinching your nipples, Nick. It will provide you more pleasure each time you become aroused. As your penis becomes erect, so will your nipples, straining against the clamps. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“No, sir.”

“You will return here next Monday and we will proceed as scheduled. Put on your sweater, then sit.”

He donned his sweater and sat down.


Nick opened his eyes. He straightened in the chair, squaring his shoulders. The clamps caused his sweater to bulge at his nipples. I could only imagine what would happen in his bike shirts.

“I hope that this helped you, Nick.”

He looked at his watch and jumped to his feet with a start. “Yes, it did. I didn’t realize it was so late! I have to get to class. See you next week?”

I smiled. “Of course.”

“Thanks, Damian.”

To be continued in Part 13...