The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Christopher & Craig

Part 74: Role Reversals.

It was Saturday night again. And I had mistakenly invited all of the boys to the Club. There was no way I was allowing tonight to devolve into all work and no play.

Craig hadn’t mentioned any more about running into his school friend, and I was hoping that meant the matter was dropped. He and I rode silently to the Club. Not an angry silence, more a silence borne of two people lose in their own thoughts.

I glanced at him. He wasn’t dressed as a slave tonight. He wore tight jeans and a T-shirt, looking more the part of my equal than my boytoy. We both knew that at any time I could turn him into a mindless automaton whose only purpose was to suck and fuck; it was unnecessary to advertise.

I parked the car and we walked to Leatherman’s private entrance.

Bootboy answered the door, dressed in only a leather thong. His body had become a sculpted work of art. I wondered if Leatherman ever let him stop working out.

Craig was staring.

“Close your mouth,” I shot at him.

He grinned at me.

“Where’s Leatherman?” I asked.

“In the Club, sir,” Bootboy replied. “How may I serve you, sir?”

That was an intriguing question. “Polish your boots.”

Bootboy’s eyes rolled back in his head.

Before he could fall I commanded: “Stand straight as a board.”

He stiffened. And I mean everywhere. His thong was bulging.

Craig mouthed, “You’re good.”

“Bootboy, can you hear me clearly?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Bootboy, this week you had an assignment to study Leatherman. Did you complete your assignment, boy?”

“Yes, sir!”

“That’s a good slave. Bootboy, as you listen to my voice you will now find that all of your characteristics, all the traits that make up your personality as a slave, all of your thoughts and desires to serve your Master, are fading. Bootboy is shifting out of focus. You will remember him and be able to assume his personality on my command, however right now he is being locked away. As you breathe in and out, relaxing, listening to my voice, you are now assuming the traits you associate with Leatherman. You will walk as he walks, dress in his clothes, talk as he talks. You will use his gestures and mannerisms. Your inflection, speech patterns, even the sound of your voice will be his. In your mind you will not be simply imitating Leatherman. You will become him. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” His voice sounded strangely hollow.

“Repeat after me and know that as you speak each statement it becomes the absolute truth for you. I am no longer Bootboy.”

“I am no longer Bootboy.”

“I have become Leatherman.”

“I have become Leatherman.”

“Good. When I count to three you will awaken and from that moment on you will be known as Leathermitch. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Say it. You are Leathermitch.”

“I am Leathermitch.”

“Good boy.”

The door from the Club opened and Leatherman burst in. He looked surprised, the suspicious to see me. “Christopher! What are you doing?”

“Don’t touch my ass.”

His eyes glazed over.

I strode across the room to him. He was clad in leather boots, leather pants, a tight black T-shirt, and studded suspenders. After all, it was Saturday night.

“Leatherman, can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Last week I instructed you to study Bootboy. Did you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Because even as you stand here listening to my voice you are beginning to find the edges of Leatherman’s life becoming blurry, almost like a dream. All of the thoughts and behaviors that make up Leatherman seem distant to you, as though they were memories of someone else. They are. Leatherman is your Master. Say it and know that it’s true. Leatherman is your Master.”

“Leatherman is my Master,” he repeated groggily.

“Who is Leatherman’s slave?”

“Bootboy.”

“If Leatherman is your Master, who does that make you?”

“Bootboy?”

“Good. You are Bootboy. Say it.”

“I am Bootboy.”

“Again.”

“I am Bootboy.”

“It’s time you learned your lessons in obedience, Bootboy. This week you studied every word, every gesture, every motion, every action belonging to Bootboy. All that you remember about the tone of his voice, his mannerisms, his walk, and his attitude of subservience are now a part of you. You will not only imitate Bootboy. You will become him once you awaken. As always, when I say ‘Don’t touch my ass’ you will return to this state. And all of Leatherman’s memories will be stored in your mind until such time as I command you to become him once again. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Who do you serve?”

“Leatherman.”

“You serve Leathermitch. Say it.”

“I serve Leathermitch.”

“Good.”

Craig had seated himself on one of the leather sofas and was perusing a magazine.

“One more thing. Remove all of your clothing.”

Craig tossed the magazine aside and looked up.

Leatherman flicked his suspenders off his shoulders then peeled off his T-shirt, discarding it. He pulled off his boots, dropping them. He pushed his leather pants down his legs, then dug his thumbs in the tops of his black socks and slipped them off. The last thing to go was the black boxerbriefs he’d been wearing.

Leatherman was actually in much better physical condition than I’d realized.

I walked to Bootboy. “Remove your clothing.”

He slipped off his thong and dropped it on the floor.

I sighed and picked it up from where it’d fallen. I crossed to Leatherman and placed it in his hand. Then I collected his clothes and boots and dropped them near Bootboy.

“You may now dress.”

Leatherman struggled to pull on the thong. It was obviously too tight.

Meanwhile Bootboy dressed in the boxerbriefs and T-shirt, then the pants, socks and boots. I looked him over carefully. The pants were baggy on him, but if memory served the boots should be the correct size. I pulled the studded suspenders into place for him.

“Remember,” I said, “Once I count to three you will begin your new lives. Henceforth to be known as Bootboy and Leathermitch. This will seem perfectly normal and natural to you both. Do you understand?”

“Yes."/“Yes, sir.”

“Good. 1...2...3.”

Craig stood beside me. “This should be interesting.”

I shrugged. “Turnabout’s fair play.”

Leathermitch’s body language had changed—becoming much bolder. He eyed the new Bootboy. “On your knees, Bootboy!” he commanded sharply.

Bootboy dropped to his knees immediately. “How may I serve you, Master?”

I couldn’t recall ever hearing Leatherman speak in so servile a tone. He would regret his foul treatment of his slave when this was over.

I clasped the back of Craig’s neck. “This will be educational for Leatherman.”

“Are you going to leave them like this?”

I shrugged.

“You don’t know?”

“We’ll see.”

“But you said I had to know exactly what I planned to do with Alan.”

Damn!

“Yet you’re winging it with these two? That’s not fair, Chris.”

“Craig, you have to remember Mitch and Leatherman have been undergoing hypnosis for sometime now. And there’s little threat of people in their lives following up on their behavior modifications. Mitch was a cop and nobody has come looking for him in all this time. With Alan we have no idea who in his life could discover your plot and cause a lot of trouble.”

Craig was frowning. “You’re still upset about that I know what you did last summer gag.”

“I don’t believe it was a gag. And, yes, it does concern me that we never heard anything more about that.”

“Well, fine, I guess. But I’m still going to call Alan.”

“I never said you couldn’t. But be thorough in your planning. Deal?”

He nodded.

I turned to the others. “Should we hit the Club?”

Leathermitch clapped me on the back. “I’ll have a table for Mike’s show, Christopher.”

To be continued in Part 75...

Part 75: When Christopher Met Nick.

The Club was bouncing: music thudded, men flirted, boys danced, money changed hands. Just a typical Saturday night at Leatherman’s.

Leathermitch strode purposefully through the room, an air of confidence about him. I couldn’t help thinking this is who Detective Mitch Driver might’ve become had he been interested in leather and men. The same swagger seemed to be permeating his being, though now he’d probably find more creative uses for handcuffs.

“What are you drinking?” Leathermitch asked.

I held up a hand.

Craig said, “I’ll have a beer.”

“A beer and my usual,” Leathermitch instructed Bootboy. He hurried off to the bar.

“I’m going to find Mike,” I said, leaving them. I ventured backstage to Mike’s dressing room. I rapped on the door.

“Nick?” Mike’s voice called.

I pushed open the door. Mike stood with his back to me, wearing a pair of green surgical scrub pants.

“I hope there’s more to this outfit to start,” I said.

He wheeled around. “Christopher! I-I thought it was someone else.”

“Apparently. I wanted to see how you’re doing, Queer Pizza Boy.”

As Mike slipped into his suggestive state I shut the door.

“Mike, we haven’t much time before your show. Continue to dress as we talk.”

Mike picked up the scrub shirt and pulled it over his head.

“I haven’t seen you in several days. Tell me about your week.”

Mike sat and put on a pair of sneakers. “Stephanie and I are fighting. I don’t think she wants to be with me.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I told her I was sick to break a date with her and she didn’t believe me. She said the only thing sick about me was my ‘faggot ass’ and that she’s going to fix me.”

I took a deep breath. I really didn’t like Stephanie. Even though I had caused the awakening of Mike’s homosexual feelings, I couldn’t feel one iota of sympathy for her. At every opportunity to show compassion for her confused boyfriend she turned shrill and vindictive. Mike would be much better off without her.

“Do you want Stephanie to ‘fix you,’ Mike?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You do?” That was surprising. “Why?”

“I want her to be happy like she used to be. We never used to fight.”

I smiled. Mike had a big heart. He would sacrifice his own needs to please Stephanie. She was a goner. “Mike, when I mention Nick how do you feel?”

Mike stopped tying his sneaker. His entire face lit up with serenity and happiness. His right hand grazed his crotch.

“Relax your hand at your side, Mike. You may not cum now.”

His hand drifted away from his cock, hovering in the air at his side.

“Picture Nick in your mind, Mike. He is your ideal man. Your every thought and desire is fulfilled by Nick. Until now you have found that you may only cum when thinking of Nick, picturing his face in your mind. From this moment forward you will not be able to achieve erection without seeing Nick or thinking of him. You will only get hard when thinking of Nick. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy. You will soon find that you are totally enraptured by Nick. A passing thought of him will make your cock begin to throb. Is he coming here tonight?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. You’ll introduce us tonight.” Truth be told I had reservations about making Nick the object of Mike’s affection without having known him first. Then I remembered that if Nick was an unacceptable mate for Mike I could either redirect Mike’s affection or adjust Nick’s personality to make him more suitable. Either way promised to be fun.

Mike stood and slipped his arms into a white lab coat.

“Weren’t you supposed to appear in a movie this week, Queer Pizza Boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me about it.”

“It’s called Doctor Love. It will be out on video in a few weeks.”

That explained the new stripper garb. “What did you do?”

“When I got there they had me get undressed and show them how hard I could get in front of a room of people. So I took everything off and started stroking. Then I started thinking about Nick and it got real easy to get into it.”

The fingers on Mike’s right hand were stroking the air beside his body.

“And they cast you in the movie?”

“Yes, sir. I played an intern. This really hot motorcycle guy comes in and needs treatment and I unzip his pants and start to blow him right there on the stretcher. Then another doctor comes in and catches me and calls me to his office to reprimand me. He takes me across his knee and spanks me then starts fucking me. In the end I fall asleep and dream about a three-way with both of them. The doctor is fucking my ass and the biker is fucking my face. It was really hot.”

The tightening in my own pants was telling me I was going to need a copy of that video. “Does anyone know you were in the movie?”

“No, sir.”

Mike’s life was about to become more complicated. His friends and Stephanie were bound to discover his job moonlighting in gay porn eventually. I grinned.

“Mike, did you enjoy making the movie?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Why?”

“I got to show off my body to men. And I drank a lot of cum. It was hot.”

“You’re a good boy, Mike. You will go out there tonight and have a great show. 1...2...3.”

Mike picked up a stethoscope and hung it around his neck.

“I should get out front. Good luck out there tonight.”

“Thanks, Christopher.”

I left the dressing room thinking how Queer Pizza Boy could’ve passed for a respectable physician in that get-up in another lifetime. Now he was a stripping cum-addict who’d starred in his first porno.

Craig was dancing, shirtless, in the middle of the floor when I found him. Men were eyeing him, circling him, ready to pounce. They didn’t stand a chance. Craig grinded up against me, working his glistening body against mine, all the while smiling at me.

He casually pointed across the dance floor. I followed with my eyes. Wade was dancing and laughing. His dance partner wore a white T-shirt, baggy jeans, and workboots.

I knew those boots. It was Andrew.

The song ended and Craig and I left the floor.

“Andrew looks different,” Craig said into my ear.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’ll see.”

Craig led the way to a table down front. Mike’s show began. No doctor I’d ever seen had used a stethoscope in quite that way.

Andrew and Wade joined us at the table. Wade was grinning.

“Are you two having a good time?” I asked.

“The best.” Wade nodded. “Andrew’s wearing me out.”

“I just feel great!” Andrew announced. “Like I could own this place.”

Speaking of owners, where was Leathermitch? I excused myself and went in search of his and Bootboy’s whereabouts.

I pushed open the door to the office. Leathermitch was seated on a sofa, eyes closed, moaning softly. Bootboy was on his knees giving attention to his Master’s cock. Leathermitch seemed to be enjoying his new role immensely.

I quietly shut the door and made my way back to our table. There was a new blond boy seated in my vacated chair.

“Chris,” Craig said, “This is Mike’s friend, Nick.”

I sized him up quickly: blond hair slicked down in a Caesar with the front gelled up, blue eyes, tight sweater, obvious nipple ring. Yep, he was gay. And cute.

Craig pulled a chair over from another table for me. I sat between him and Nick. “So you’re Nick. I’ve heard a lot about you. How are you?”

Nick shook my hand. “How do you know Mike?”

I cocked an eyebrow at him. “He used to deliver my pizzas.”

Nick nodded. “That’s cool. He talks about you.”

“What does he say?”

“You’re a good friend.”

“Yes, I am,” I said with a chuckle.

“So what do you do?” Nick asked.

I shifted in my seat. “You’re certainly full of questions, aren’t you?”

Nick shrugged. “I just want to know Mike’s friends.”

“You know, they say the best way to make a friend is to be a friend, Nick. Why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself?”

“Like what?”

“What do you do?”

“I go to college?”

“At the University?”

“Yes.”

“Craig just enrolled for spring semester. What’s your major?”

“Liberal Arts. But I might change to Psychology. I’m taking this really awesome class on Psychology and Gender.”

“What’s the subject matter?”

“How society and social pressures can influence a person’s gender roles.”

“Sounds like an interesting look into behavioral science. Mike tells me you also work as a research assistant?”

“For the prof of that class.”

“What exactly does a Research Assistant do?”

Nick shrugged. “All sorts of stuff.”

That narrowed it down.

Mike appeared, dressed and ready to relax. “You’ve met already.” He beamed at Nick.

“We’re getting acquainted.”

Mike pulled over a chair and straddled it. He gazed at nick with adoration.

“Christopher said you used to deliver his pizzas,” Nick told Mike.”

“Yep.”

“How’d you end up friends?”

I can’t explain it, but I didn’t appreciate all of these questions. Then again, maybe Craig was right and I was looking for enemies where there weren’t any. It was possible Nick really was just curious about Mike’s life. I simply had to make certain his curiosity didn’t lead to trouble.

“We just started talking one night,” I replied.

“Christopher’s really easy to talk to,” Mike added.

Craig leaned his head on my shoulder. “That’s my guy.”

Wade and Andrew looked bored and restless. I caught Wade’s eye. “How would you two like to join Craig and me for a cup of coffee on the way home?”

“Sure,” Wade said.

I stood and turned to Mike. “You don’t mind if we leave you two alone, do you?”

Mike smiled at me.

I bent over near his ear. “You may cum,” I whispered.

He gasped as his cock erupted in his pants.

I straightened up and nodded at Nick. “It was nice meeting you. I look forward to seeing you again.”

To be continued in Part 76...