The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Checkmate I Think.

By The Slaver.

5. The Hitman.

Redmayne was 6′1″, a red head, with green eyes and he was very muscular; he had captained the baseball team, at both Collage and then University. Even though he looked like an athlete, or jock, he had graduated from university. To most people Redmayne seemed to be a jock who had graduated from University, but had no Job. This suited Redmayne and the people who employed him: for Redmayne was an Assassin / a Hitman/ a Killer. Whatever you’d like to call him; he was extremely expensive, but excellent at getting the job done. In the last five years that he had been in the job he had had only one failure.

The 35-year-old multi-millionaire crime Boss Maxwell-Dean stood in the middle of the room looking around at the guests of his party. Maxwell-Dean had maintained his beard to create the façade of an older, wiser man. His hours in the gym had maintained his natural sexy vibe. He looked towards the door, as a group walked into the room.

The group, three men and a woman entered the room; the woman and the oldest of the three men smiled and nodded to some of the other guests as the group of four them made their way towards Maxwell-Dean. The crime boss turned to the woman at his side, (a soap actress of some merit, but who was still quite dim. This was something else that maintained Maxwell-Dean’s natural sexy vibe, that he was straight.) “My dear, please excuse me a moment, Senator Henshore and his party have arrived. He then walked towards the Senator and his group.

Maxwell-Dean greeted the Senator warmly, and kissed his wife on both checks: of the two younger men in the party, the crime boss knew that one of them was the Senator’s oldest son. Maxwell-Dean nodded to him and shock his hand. “And this is ‘Fred’, my sister’s boy!” Said the Senator; Maxwell-Dean shock hands with ‘Fred’.

The crime boss know the man that he had had just shaken hands with was not the Senator’s nephew, and that he was really, an Assassin, named Redmayne. He also knew that the Crime Boss that backed the Senator, had put out a hit on him (Maxwell-Dean). After some small talk between the Senator and Maxwell-Dean, the crime boss left the Senator’s party, and moved among the rest of his guests.

Sometime later the Senator and Redmayne stood in an anti-room, the room was empty. The Senator was silent for a moment, before he spoke. “Well now, you’ve met the MARK, how are you going to go about removing him!” Redmayne was silent for a few minutes, and then replied: “That is none of your concern. The less you know about it the better it is for you!” The Senator looked hard at Redmayne; the Senator was not use to people being unhelpful, or not obeying him. He was just about too snap at Redmayne, when Maxwell-Dean, entered the room and walked over to them. The two men turned towards the crime boss as he entered the anti-room.

“Senator, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to end this little party of mine, and send the guests home. I’ve just heard that my Mother has been taken ill, and I must go to her, at once. I hope you understand!” The Senator looked hard at Maxwell-Dean, for a few moments. “Of cause, you must go, I understand!” Said the Senator, a smile briefly past over Redmayne’s face; this sort of thing was just what he needed. Maxwell-Dean watched the two men as they left the anti-room; he smiled to himself, he had heard the Senator and Redmayne’s conversation.

Maxwell-Dean’s plan to remove Redmayne could now be put into action; he would deal with the Senator later.

On the Friday afternoon, after the party, Redmayne parked his rental car just inside the forest that surrounded the Maxwell-Dean home. Redmayne walked through the forest for a few minutes; the gravel drive leading to Maxwell-Dean’s home was a few feet through the trees to Redmayne’s right. After a while, Redmayne came out of the trees and walked on the gravel drive. Turning a corner he caught sight of the house through the trees. As he moved nearer, a still moat reflected not only the red-brick castle like building, but also the dark, threating clouds above.

Maxwell-Dean’s mansion was in fact a Foley built by some Hollywood actor in the 1930’s. Redmayne crossed a gravel covered bridge, and passed through a large arched entry into a gravel covered courtyard. He was surprised to see a patrol car parked in front of the red-brick like building; a patrolman stood beside the car. The patrolman stood 6 feet tall, he had brown hair, cut into a flat-top and brown eyes, his wiry but muscled body could be seen beneath his tight fitting uniform. It seemed that the patrolman had just finished radioing back to his base: as Redmayne moved nearer he saw the patrolman drop the mike of his radio and look up. “What do you want here?” The patrolman snapped, in an unfriendly sort of way. “What’s it got to do with you?” Redmayne snapped back, but then he thought better of it, and added in a more friendlily. “I’m sorry; I’m here to see Mr. Maxwell-Dean.” Redmayne said.

The patrolman looked hard at Redmayne, for some-time, “That cannot be true?” The patrolman snapped, “There’s no one here.” Redmayne looked at the patrolman, “That can’t be right, I was told that Maxwell-Dean, had came here, some days ago to see his mother, who’s been taken ill.” An contempt’s laugh came from the patrolman, “Mrs. Maxwell-Dean hasn’t lived here for over ten years, she lives abroad. She hasn’t spoken to his son in all that time. So I suggest that you fuck off, before I run you in.” Redmayne knew that he could not push the matter, any further, not without having to kill the patrolman. So without another word, he turn on his heels, and walked back over the gravel covered bridge, and through the trees, back to his car.

Redmayne sat in his car, waiting for the patrolman to drive past in his car, after several hours had past and he had smoked several cigars; the patrolman still had not gone past. Redmayne got out of his car, and walked back through the forest, as he nearer the mansion, Redmayne saw that the patrol car was gone. “Fuck?” Cried Redmayne, he run up the steps of the mansion to the large wooden front door.

Suddenly, there was a flash of lighting, followed by a loud clap of thunder, and a heavy down pour of rain stated. “Fucking hell.” Redmayne screamed, without thinking he hammered on the front door; the door swung open, it had not been locked. Although, he thought it was strange, that an empty house was unlocked, Redmayne went in, outside the storm raised on.

Redmayne searched the mansion; for a place that was not meant too have be lived in, the mansion was surprisingly, clean and tidy. It looked like someone had kept the house up to scratch. Redmayne searched the whole place. But there seemed to be not a soul anywhere. Outside the storm seemed to get worse; Redmayne could not get back to his car.

So, he took some of the food from the kitchen, and eat it in one of the bedrooms at the back of the mansion, but which were on the top floor. He would have to stay the night, in the morning he would clear away any trace that he had been here, and return to the city, and see the Senator. Redmayne finished his meal; he then undressed and climbed into bed, soon he had fallen asleep.

Redmayne woke up, suddenly, a moan could be heard; it wasn’t Redmayne who had moaned. Redmayne settled down to go back to sleep. There it was again, more moaning, louder this time. ‘This couldn’t be possible, there’s no one else here but me. I’ve searched the mansion multiple times to be sure.’ Redmayne thought as he pulled back the bed-sheets, and got up to have a look around to find the moaning. He followed the moaning down stairs to the large fireplace in the main hall. The moaning seemed to be coming from behind/ or beneath the fireplace. Redmayne felt around the large carved fireplace, he kept feeling around until he noticed something. A brick in front of the fireplace was loose.

Redmayne removed the brick and under the brick was what looked like a pressure plate; he pushed it, the fireplace then opened up to reveal a set of stairs leading down. Redmayne slowly walked down the stairs that led to a passage. The air down here was significantly cooler than upstairs. The cold got to his bones and softened his hard cock.

The moaning continued down the passage, Redmayne came to a big, metal door; the moaning was even loud from the other side of the door. Redmayne opened the door and what he saw on the other side of the door shocked him. It was a sex dungeon; there were dildos, vibrators, rubber and leather suits, whips, and more all assorted through-out the room. On the other side of the room was a figure tied to the wall, it was a male figure that was completely covered in a very tight, figure hugging, black rubber suit. It had no eyes and no mouth. It had a dick that was hard as a rock; the bulge of it could be seen out-lined in the front of the suit.

“What the fuck going on her—” Redmayne was cut off, a gloved had clapped a rag over his face and the room started to turn and then spin, Redmayne’s vision blurred and he started to pass out. The last thing Redmayne saw before falling into unconsciousness was another gloved hand reaching around him, and rubbing his soft cock through his shorts.

Sometime later, Redmayne came too slowly. First Redmayne was aware that something was place in his mouth; then he realized he couldn’t move his hands and feet. He opened his eyes and looked around, his hands and feet were restrained, he was suspended in the air in a fuck sling, and he was covered in a tight fitting rubber suit. Redmayne’s head and cock were the only parts of him exposed; a ball gag was in his mouth, he screamed through the gag for help.

Redmayne then saw his attacker. He was a big man covered in black rubber, wearing a rubber gas mask, on the figure’s rubber suit were the words “MASTER.” and “SIR.” He was accompanied by the figure that had been tied to the wall. Both men’s rock hard cocks were sticking straight out of the front of their rubber suits. Redmayne noticed a collar on the second figure, the one that had been tied to the wall “RUBBER PIG #937821” was on the collar. 937821 that was the number of the patrolman who had appeared and disappeared so quickly earlier in the day. So the patrolman was some sort of captive being held here. The two men were standing at Redmayne’s feet with their cocks hard. The stranger took Redmayne’s gag out. “Who are you? What have you done to that cop?” Redmayne yelled in panic.

“I am your master. You may refer to me as Sir.” He left Redmayne. The patrolman just stood at Redmayne’s feet. Redmayne couldn’t see his face because of the mask, but Redmayne had a feeling he was looking at me with eagerness. “What are you gonna do to me?” Redmayne asked in a loud voice. “You will be reprogrammed. Just like the patrolman here was!” Sir grabbed a pair of headphones and some goggles. “You will be assimilated into a rubber pig. You will crave cock and always be horny.” Fear shot through Redmayne “I’m not gay; you can’t do this to me!” Shouted Redmayne.

The patrolman opened a flap in Redmayne’s rubber suit; he then took his hands and spread Redmayne’s ass cheeks apart. Redmayne’s eyes widened at the thought of what the patrolman was going to do with his hard cock. Sir grabbed something else that Redmayne didn’t recognize from a table and headed back towards him; Redmayne struggled, but to no avail. Sir placed the goggles over Redmayne’s eyes and slipped the headphones over his ears, suddenly Redmayne was in complete silence and darkness. He felt something touch his whole. It was the patrolman’s rock hard cock.

“Let the assimilation begin.” Sir ordered, immediately the goggles lit up with multiple images of men in rubber, and men in bondage, the multiple images were over the top of a bright yellow spinning spiral: over the headphones, Sir repeated messages over and over.

“You are a rubber pig. Your sole purpose in life is to be used. You desire to be in rubber, you desire be in bondage all the time. You must worship your master’s cock, or any cock master tells you too. You must obey.” The images, spiral and the messages made Redmayne hard. Why was this happening to me? I’ve never been into purvey gay stuff like this’. Redmayne thought. Without warning, the patrolman inserted his 8 ½″ cock inside Redmayne’s whole. He moaned in pain and then pleasure. When Redmayne’s mouth opened, Sir shoved his 10″ cock inside it. Against his will, Redmayne’s cock twitched. ‘I must fight this.’ Redmayne thought, as the two muscular, rubber covered men fucked his, young body without mercy.

‘This felt so good.’ Redmayne thought to himself, as he breathed in the smell of rubber and musky smell of MEN, he loved it. Master and the patrolman’s cocks felt so good, the two cocks felt like they belonged in him. Redmayne without thinking started to suck on Sir’s cock. The images, spiral and messages were repeated over and over. The patrolman’s cock hit Redmayne’s prostate and sent him spiralling into a world of sexual pleasure. ‘I needed this.’ Redmayne dimly thought as he moaned and convulsed in pleasure; his cock started to leak pre-cum. Being Fucked felt so good.

‘No. I need to fight it. I must resist. I must fight it. I must…obey. I must be in bondage. I must be in rubber. I must be in bondage. I need cock. I want cock.’ Thought Redmayne as the reprograming started to take hold of Redmayne. Suddenly the patrolman’s cock started to fuck Redmayne faster: the patrolman was getting close. Sir did the same, as he too got close. Redmayne continued to suck on sir’s cock.

With a moan, the patrolman came, he filled Redmayne’s whole with his cum; rope after rope of the patrolman’s cum flood into Redmayne’s whole .Redmayne wanted cum to be in his whole, forever. He wanted the warmth of cum to stay in his pig whole. After the patrolman pulled out of Redmayne, he let out a muffled moan, (sir’s cock still filled his mouth), Redmayne needed his ass to be filled. As a response to the moaning’s, Sir grabbed Redmayne’s head and fucked his mouth, hard and roughly. He cum in Redmayne’s mouth and Redmayne made sure not to waste a drop., swallowing it all, master’s cum tasted like heaven, too Redmayne.

‘I must be fucked every day. I can’t be without rubber, without bondage, without cock.’ Thought Redmayne, to tell the truth this was now the only thought Redmayne now had. Sir pulled out of Redmayne’s mouth causing him to moan and whimper. Sir and the patrolman left Redmayne in the sling, watching the pictures, spiral and listening to Sir’s voice. ‘I loved him. I worshipped him. I obey him thought Redmayne.’ After several hours, Sir came back alone, and then released Redmayne from the swing.

Master stored Redmayne next to the patrolman, tied to the wall in the same sort of rubber suit as the patrolman had been in, when Redmayne had first seen him. A completely covering, very tight figure hugging black rubber suit. That had no eyes and no mouth. The bulge of the hitman’s dick was even larger, and harder than the patrolman’s cock was; as Redmayne’s cock was now encased in a heavy metal cock-cage. The shape of it could be seen out-lined in the front of the hitman’s rubber suit.

It is here, that the hitman would now stay. It is here that Redmayne would obey, without question! It was here, that Redmayne the former hitman would become the total rubber drone that Sir know he was born to become. Sir stood in front of his two newest rubber pigs; he reached up and pulled off the rubber gas mask from his head the face of Maxwell-Dean, the multi-millionaire crime Boss that Redmayne had been paid to kill, now looked at the rubber covered rubber pig. Maxwell-Dean smiled; and patted the top of Redmayne’s rubber covered head. “Checkmate, I think Arsehole!” Maxwell-Dean said, as he fixed a collar with “RUBBER pig #092189”on it around the former hitman’s neck. Redmayne’s Rubber pig number was his date of birth, just as the former patrolman’s Rubber Pig number was his uniform number.

“Yes, you arsehole it is checkmate!” Maxwell-Dean said to Redmayne as he turned and left the room; over the remainder of the weekend, he would complete the assimilation of Redmayne the former hitman and the patrolman.

TO BE CONTINUED: