The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Christopher & Craig

Reinforcement

When I opened the door on Monday Mitch stood waiting patiently, dressed in straight-leg jeans and a black T-shirt. He entered and immediately removed his boots, then walked into the den. While no longer as exaggerated as it had been last night, Mitch’s walk had changed. He was shaking his ass now, though not walking so much on tiptoe. Also, his hands didn’t appear to hang quite as limp as last night. Still, for one night’s behavior modification training, Mitch had proven himself a willing participant and an astute student.

“Make yourself comfortable on the couch, Mitch. My patient called, he’ll be a few minutes late.”

Mitch nodded and sat back on the couch, legs spread wide.

“How was your day?”

“It was okay,” he replied in his tenor voice.

“Polish your boots.”

I watched his shoulders lower and his face relax.

“You seem tense, Mitch. How was your day?”

“The guys at work gave me a hard time.”

“What did they do?”

“They said I looked like a fag.”

“Did you?”

“Sir?”

“Did you look like a fag? Answer honestly.”

“Yes, sir.”

I smiled. He could recognize his new behavior, but obviously he didn’t find it at odds with his personality. If I were working on a machine I suppose this would be called reprogramming. On Mitch, so far, it was just entertainment.

“So you looked like a fag. That’s a good boy. Do you know how fags sit, Mitch? Think carefully. How do fags sit? Now I want you to sit like that.”

Mitch immediately crossed his right leg over his left at the knee.

“Good boy! This is how you will sit from now on. Do you know why?”

“I’m a fag, sir.”

“Yes! That’s right. Mitch, you’re going to start wearing tighter clothes. Today is a start, but these are still looser than you like. You like tight clothes. You want to show off your body. You will wear jeans and T-shirts that fit much tighter, won’t you, boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I noticed your walk tonight. It’s not quite like it was last night. You really knew how to walk last night, didn’t you, boy? You showed me how you walk. Don’t you want to shake your faggot-ass even more? I know you do. Don’t you find that you balance better on your toes? In fact, you feel more comfortable walking like that, don’t you? Answer, boy!”

“Yes, sir.”

“What?”

“Yes, SIR!” he chirped.

“I like the sound of your voice like this, Mitch. But then you’ve always sounded like this. You know you have. You’ve always behaved like this. Say what you are, Mitch.”

“I’m a fag.”

“Again.”

“I’m a fag, SIR!”

“Good boy. How did people react today?”

“They called me fag.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Bad.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Did you ever call anybody a fag, Mitch?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How do you think they felt being called a fag?”

“Bad?”

“Right. Are fags bad, Mitch?”

“Sir?”

“Is it okay to be a fag, Mitch?”

“It’s wrong.”

“But you’re a fag, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is it wrong for you to be a fag?”

“No...sir?” The look on his face told me he was having trouble following the logic pattern.

“That’s right. You’re a fag and it’s right for you to be a fag, Mitch. The male body is attractive to you. You know it’s true. Seeing your own body in the mirror has always been interesting to you. That’s why you stay in such good shape. So that you can appreciate how you look. And so others will. But now you will want to see other men’s bodies. You will watch men as they pass you. In the locker room at work, at the gym, on the street, you will try to see men’s bodies. This will arouse you. You cannot fight it. In fact, the more you give into your feelings of wanting to see men’s bodies, the more aroused you will feel. The thought of a woman no longer arouses you. You told me that. It’s wrong for you to be attracted to women. You are attracted to men. You want to touch men. You want to be touched by men. Do you understand?”

He answered softly, lost in the words. “Yes, sir.”

“Relax, Mitch. Breathe in and out. You will begin fantasizing about men. The thought of men will allow you to jerk off. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Say it. I will fantasize about men to jerk off.”

“I will fantasize about men to jerk off.”

“And I will look at men’s bodies.”

“And I will look at men’s bodies.”

“Because it is right for me to be a fag.”

“Because it is right for me to be a fag.”

I watched him for a moment, sitting on the couch, breathing in and out...in and out...so slowly. He was offering no resistance to my suggestions. Would that last? Could he be trained this easily?

“Mitch, I am going to count to three. When you awaken your thought, desires, and behavior will forever be altered. You will be the creation of your own homophobia—the ultimate fag. And when you think back you will not be able to remember a time when you didn’t think, feel and act this way. Do you understand all the instructions that you have received?

His voice was dreamy. “Yes, sir.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“No, sir.”

I suddenly had a new idea. I hadn’t intended to take things this far tonight, but he was so pliable right now I couldn’t resist. “Is your cock hard, Mitch?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Stand up.”

He did.

“Unzip your pants.”

He did. His cock tented his briefs. God, this was hot. Here stood a sexy cop, in briefs and socks, at my disposal. What a rush.

“Mitch, you will find that you may now jerk off. You know what to think about now. You know who to fantasize about. You may cum when you think about sex with a man.”

His hand was drawn to the bulge in his briefs as though it were magnetized. He began to stroke himself through the cotton.

“Think of what you’d like to do with a man. Think of what you’d like a man to do to you. You may open your eyes if you wish.”

He opened his eyes and stared directly at me. He began stroking his cock faster.

Being the object of a person’s fantasies is something most people dream about. Finding out that someone has fantasized about you can be exciting. But to be there to witness a hot guy with an incredible body stroking himself while watching you is a thrill I can’t describe. Add to it that in his present state this man was unable to help himself, unable to stop himself from fantasizing about men, and it was getting hot in here. My own cock was throbbing.

Mitch was new to this and I expected it to take him a long time to be able to adapt his fantasies to being about men. I assumed he would need time to work up to it. But he must have been horny, having not been able to cum over women the past few days. I knew when his knees buckled I had him.

He shuddered violently and a stain grew on the front of his briefs.

“Good boy, Mitch. You will never forget how good it felt to think about sex with a man. And now that you know you’re a fag you will never again be able to think of sex with a woman. You know even as I say the words that they are true and real for you and that they will forever alter your beliefs. Isn’t that right, boy?”

Mitch stood there in his wet briefs, drawing ragged breaths. This had been a breakthrough tonight. It was possible he’d actually engage in the act with another week’s work.

“Yes, sir,” he gasped. “You will go home tonight and think about sex with men. You will return tomorrow at 7. Zip your pants, boy.”

He did.

“Lie on the couch.”

He did. The way he followed my directions with no resistance said two things to me: he had been conditioned in the past and a trust had been built between us already. I wanted to explore his past at some point; something told me there was more to his high level of suggestibility than typical military training.

“Your entire body is relaxed, Mitch. You feel wonderful all over. You feel so free to be yourself now. The real you. As you relax and let all that has happened tonight become a part of you, I want you to wiggle your toes.”

I watched his toes wiggle in his white socks. Actually he needed the time to lose his erection. But there was no reason I couldn’t enjoy the wait. He had changed in so many ways in such a short time. And not just the vast life-style changes. The small ones. Like these white socks instead of his black socks and boots. Or the briefs instead of boxers. The briefs!

“You may stop and sit up.”

He did.

“When I count three you will believe you witnessed a session with Mr. Boots. You enjoyed it. You want to learn more tomorrow. You’ll return at 7. You won’t think anything of your wet briefs. When you go home you will shower and change and completely forget that they were wet. Do you understand all of these instructions?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good boy. As always, being in your socks will seem perfectly natural when you’re here. 1...2...3.”

Mitch opened his eyes.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked, getting to my feet.

He stood. There was a small wet spot on the front of his jeans. “Yes, sir!” he replied. A look of surprise crossed his face.

I grinned.

Mitch turned away, hiding an expression of mild embarrassment as he quickly walked to the door. The wiggle was back and more exaggerated than ever. He quickly laced his boots and left.

* * *

I hadn’t heard from Craig in over 24 hours. Which worried me. I crossed to the phone and dialed his number.

“Hello?”

“Craig?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“My shoes are tight. Craig, is everything straightened out with the police?”

“Almost, Master.”

“When will it be?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. There will also be an article in the paper tomorrow, sir.”

“Good. Any problems with your alibi?”

“No, sir.”

“That’s good. After you finish with the police, come here boy.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I’ve missed you, slave.”

“I miss you too, Master!”

“1...2...3. Goodbye.”

“’Bye.” Craig hung up the phone.

To be continued in Part 16...