The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Well, New Year’s Eve was anticlimactic for many reasons. The major one, of course, was that Craig and I were not quite getting along. You might say we had our first major fight that night. But to call it a fight makes it sound like there was an argument. There really wasn’t. It’s hard to argue when the person you’re speaking to walks out the front door.

It’s not like we haven’t disagreed before. But New Year’s Eve began with me not appreciating Craig’s attitude and ended with me alone watching Dick Clark drop the ball.

Andrew showed up New Year’s Day with fresh donuts and coffee. I must admit I liked this look better on him than the last, though he still didn’t feel like ‘Andrew’. He wore his skater shoes with oversized jeans slung way too low showing off a pair of plaid boxers, a wallet chain hanging down his leg, a T-shirt bearing the insignia of some group I had never heard of over a thermal undershirt, and a walkman around his neck. His earring and goatee completed the transition from the button-down guy he’d been when I met him at the shoestore.

Wade, for his part, seemed to be enjoying Andrew’s new, more youthful outlook. They seemed more playful together, and I sensed very real affection between them.

Lee emailed the pertinent details of what precisely the producers of Faking It were looking for. In their original conception of casting this show they saw an audition process where the finalists would be told what challenge they were expected to meet and pass themselves off as. Somewhere along the line it must’ve become apparent that your average mainstream American contestant wasn’t going to accept the challenge of going from churchlady to hooker. Now they were desperate for a third contender and had turned to the carnival of all places.

What they wanted amounted to an X-rated clown. I was certain I could produce that. And, well, in the end it wasn’t that difficult to rationalize it as an improvement for Nick. Catatonic spandex boy certainly seemed worse than an X-rated clown who makes money on television.

Wade and Andrew went upstairs to watch TV and I turned my attention to the newspaper. I almost wished I hadn’t. It seemed that during a raid on a chop shop a half-stripped BMW registered to Donald Sullivan had been recovered. Police were looking into the car for signs of foul play. The article then gave a brief recap of Donald’s disappearance and the lack of any ransom note or word on his whereabouts coming to light.

That part of the article was no surprise to me. Donald would never be heard from again. He had been rendered physically unrecognizable before dying in a boxing match. His very inexpensive grave marker bore the name Jose Sanchez.

Damn! I sincerely hoped there was no way to trace the car back to me. Or Wade.

I went upstairs to get ready for the day, passing Wade’s bedroom door. Andrew was sitting up on the bed, his ankles crossed, with Wade lying beside him, his head on Andrew’s chest—obviously asleep. Andrew was gently tousling Wade’s hair.

I knocked softly on the doorframe and Andrew turned his head.

“He’s sacked out,” Andrew said with a smile.

“So I see. I’m thinking of ordering lunch. You hungry?”

“Yeah, but he’ll probably want to eat when he wakes up.”

“I’ll check back in after I get dressed.” I turned to leave.

“It was the weirdest thing, really. We were snapping through the channels and the noon news was on showing the picture of some rich banker who went missing. And Wade got all tense and asked me to change the channel.”

It was at that moment I understood what people meant when they said they suddenly went cold. I slowly turned back into the room. “Did he say why?” My voice sounded unnaturally high to my own ears.

Andrew shook his head. “He fell asleep after that.”

No, no, no! Wade couldn’t be remembering the atrocities he’d suffered at Donald’s hands. I had made sure those memories were buried forever. It had to be some sort of strange coincidence or something. He had been out late last night and he just needed some sleep. There was nothing to worry about. Wade Thompson had never met Donald Sullivan.

Much later that afternoon when Craig returned home I was at my desk in the den. I could see him slip upstairs and heard the shower running a little while later. I glanced up from my computer screen a half hour later when he entered the den.

“Look who’s back,” I said, my tone neutral. I didn’t know whether to be relieved he was home safe or wring his neck for staying out nearly twenty-four hours.

Craig stood across the desk from me, rocking on his heels. “I stayed at Alan’s.”

“Alan’s. I see. I was worried. You could’ve called.”

Craig had seemingly become fascinated by the toe of his sneaker.

“I don’t understand what happened last night, Craig. There was no discussion, no explanation. All I said was that you’ve had an attitude since before Christmas.”

Craig frowned.

“I knew you’d been a bit standoffish with me, but I chalked it up to your guilt over Alan and the fact that I was a bit harsh when I found out what you’d done.”

“You found out...?” Craig asked. He looked up. “A-about me hypnotizing him. Right.”

“Then Wade informed me you’ve been purposely picking fights with him and that you irritated Andrew so much on Christmas Day that there was nearly a fistfight in the living room. I want to know what’s going on with you. I love you. Whatever it is, I’m sure I can help.”

Craig slowly shook his head.

“I could force you to tell me.” Not that I really would...

“You wouldn’t.”

“No. No, you’re right. I probably wouldn’t. I would like for you to tell me of your own free will because of the love and trust between us. Something is different, Craig. You’re different. You pull away every time I reach for you. You avoid conversation. You’ve been lashing out at Wade more than usual...”

Craig made a disgusted sound.

I ignored it. “We have no secrets between us. At least none that matter. But something is pulling you away from me, and—”

The most horrible picture filled my mind. I didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me before now. Probably because I couldn’t let my mind go there, hadn’t wanted to consider the possibility.

I sank back in my chair. “It’s Alan.”

Craig turned away.

I felt my fingers gripping the arms of the chair. “How long?”

No answer.

“How long?” I breathed.

“Before Christmas.” Craig’s voice was barely a whisper.

I took a deep breath. I didn’t know what to say. My lover had a lover of his own. There was nothing to say.

Craig turned around. Tears were rolling silently down his cheeks.

This all felt very unreal. Craig and I were happy. There was no reason to look elsewhere for love or sex. I had freed him so we could be together. A slave would have never done this to me.

“I love you, Chris. But I love him, too.” His voice choked off.

Footsteps on the stairs signaled Wade and Andrew coming down from the bedroom. They stood in the doorway.

“We’re heading out to grab something for dinner,” Wade said.

Craig turned from the doorway and swiped at his eyes with his sleeve.

Try as I might I couldn’t seem to work up a phony smile. I nodded.

“We might just get a pizza and bring it back here,” Andrew said. “You want anything?”

“I’m not hungry. Thank you.”

Wade tilted his head, looking intently at me. He took Andrew’s arm. “C’mon, Andrew, let’s get out of here.”

Andrew shrugged. “See you later.”

A moment later the front door closed.

Craig stood with his back to me.

I got to my feet. “I think you should sleep in the guest room tonight.” I walked out of the den and grabbed my coat from the hook. I needed some air.

Wade was extremely curious as to why Craig had taken up residence in the guest room, but I wasn’t really up for discussing it. I could hear him in the kitchen speculating with Andrew that I had kicked Craig to the curb and would be better off in the long run, but somehow it didn’t feel that way.

Just about everything felt worse right about now. Craig had been carrying on some sort of an affair with Alan for God only knew how long. I was nearly certain that it had begun after Alan’s suicide attempt, but that didn’t make it any better. Craig had been going to Alan’s under the pretense of hypnotizing him to restore his personality and in reality he had been fucking him.

God, he’d been fucking Alan and then coming home to our bed.

The first thing I did was change the sheets. Then I stood in the shower until the hot water ran out. Not exactly the most adult behavior ever, but I was having a hard time thinking above the level of revenge fantasies. I had a picture in my head of Craig bound to a chair, helpless, watching Alan on his knees worshipping my cock before I expunged all memories of Craig from his mind.

I toweled off and got dressed. This was getting me nowhere. I had to go out. I had to do something. I had to not be in this house.

Wade was getting ready to leave for work when I walked downstairs.

“Chris, some guy named Nick called. He said he’s back, whatever that means.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

“Are you gonna be okay tonight, Chris? I could call Scott and tell him something’s up and I can’t come in.”

I shook my head. “Don’t be silly. Go to work.”

Wade threw his arms around my neck. “I don’t know what exactly happened, but it’ll probably all work out.” He leaned back. “Why don’t you stop by Kampas tonight?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“If you want Andrew to come over and beat the hell out of Craig he will.” Wade smiled a great big smile.

I laughed for the first time today. “That won’t be necessary. I know you want to know what’s going on with Craig and me.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“Craig and his friend Alan are apparently more than friends.”

Wade’s eyes widened. “He’s cheating on you? I’m calling Andrew. We’ll see how much Alan wants him after his face is rearranged.”

“No, you’re not. I’ll handle it.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I have no idea.” It was the truth. I didn’t know where to go from here.

“Listen, I really have to go or I’m gonna be late. Come to the bar later. Don’t sit here all night and be miserable. He’s really not worth it.”

After Wade left I called Nick and arranged for him to come over at seven. It was a welcome distraction to have him to work with. Since he was going to be the boy on Faking It my goals for him had changed. No longer did I have to attempt to restore his original personality. Which worked out since I hadn’t known him then and had no idea what he’d been like prior to his stint as Professor Edwards’ Research Assistant.

Nick arrived at seven on the dot and promptly kicked off his sneakers, padding into the den in his socked feet, his jeans and sweatshirt no doubt covering some sort of spandex. I waited for him to situate himself on the couch.

“Beach Boy.”

Nick’s shoulders slumped, his head drooped forward to his chest. One thing about Edwards’ research—he’d made very deep inroads into Nick’s mind. It wasn’t going to be all that difficult to alter his fetish to rubber. So why on Earth should I just stop there? Nick’s current state wasn’t my doing or my fault. How much responsibility did I need to feel about him? Anything I did to him that still allowed him to function in society would be an improvement over what Edwards’ had done to him before his untimely death. And from his notes I sensed that had Edwards lived Nick was not going to be returned to society. More likely Nick was going to spend the rest of his life as some sort of glorified spandex-clad blow-up doll. Edwards had specifically designed the spandex suit he’d given Nick. The hole in his spandex facemask was there for one purpose—so his face could be fucked. Ditto the small flap over his ass.

I was offering Nick a whole new future. And it wasn’t like he wouldn’t derive pleasure from it. I smiled. No, Nick would enjoy his new life immensely.

“Nick, tell me, how was your Christmas?”

“Okay, sir.”

“Was it good to be home?”

“It was all right.”

“Only all right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What happened?”

“My mom walked in on me with my shirt open and my pants down wearing my singlett and watching porn on the internet. It started this big thing. My dad wanted to know what I’ve been doing at school and who I’ve been hanging out with, and what kind of weird shit I’ve been doing. They both thought I was doing drugs or something. They think that’s why Marty and I dropped out of sight for awhile—cause we were getting high and doing illegal shit.”

“Ah. So your visit home was less than perfect.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Anything else happen that you’d like to tell me about?”

“My sister brought her boyfriend over a lot. He had this really tight shirt on. I was getting kind of hard and I was looking at him I guess. So my sister thinks I’m a queer and was trying to put the moves on her boyfriend. I felt like telling her I already have a boyfriend, but every time I call Mike’s number I get this message that it’s been disconnected.”

“Nick, Mike has moved out of state. You will forget all about him today. He is no longer your boyfriend. You won’t think about him anymore. You’ll only remember that he moved to California and the two of you said goodbye as friends. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Nick, did you masturbate while you were home?”

“No, sir.”

“Have you masturbated since you returned?”

“No, sir.”

“I bet you feel quite ready for an orgasm after over a week. Would you like to masturbate?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You may begin stroking yourself, Nick. But you will not cum until I give you permission. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Stroke yourself, Nick.”

His right hand snaked down his pants and began pumping his cock.

“Now, Nick, it’s time to begin altering your mode of dress. From now on I want you to stop wearing your spandex shorts. You are only allowed to wear a jockstrap. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you own a jockstrap?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. You will wear it with no other undergarments under your pants. If you attempt to wear spandex under your pants you will be punished. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. We have about three weeks time to get you ready and it’s going to be a rush job. Unfortunately the props and costume pieces I need to train you won’t arrive for a few days. So today we’ll work on the basics. Nick, you are a toy. You are used to bring pleasure to other men, whatever that may bring. Your body is a tool to be used for pleasure. You are happiest when you are being used. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What are you?”

“A toy,” he said, still pumping his cock under his jeans.

“Good boy. Nick, you’re going to be a good toy. Now, it’s nearly time for Marty to arrive. Follow me.”

Nick got to his feet. I led him to the bathroom.

“You will wait in here until I come for you. Take off all your clothes and leave them here.”

He began undressing.

“You will continue to stroke your cock until I return for you. You will not, however, cum. You are not allowed to cum without my permission. If you cum without permission you will be punished. You will picture yourself as a toy to be used to please men as you stroke.”

He stood up straight, now naked. He had a nice body; his hair had grown back and he looked like an average college student.

He grasped his cock in his fist and began to slowly pump it again.

I closed the door.

I took Nick’s sneakers from the foyer and hid them in the closet.

A short while later Marty arrived. He had changed a bit over Christmas, growing a beard. His hair was a bit long on the top now and the sides covered his ears.

He entered and pulled off his leather boots. I hung his leather jacked on a hook and went into the den.

Marty went under easily.

“How was Christmas vacation, Marty?”

“Awesome.”

“Really? Why?”

“I got a new leather jacket and new boots.”

“Very good. Marty, you know what you need next? A leather jock. In fact, on the way home tonight you will stop and buy one. You will begin wearing it instead of your underwear. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Marty, have you had sex recently?”

“No.”

“When did you last masturbate?”

“Night before last.”

“Do you want to cum?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I want you to stand and undress, Marty.”

I watched him strip off his clothes. Marty was a tall guy, with long legs, long arms, big feet and big hands. His cock was long and thick, and his scrotum was huge. He needed a haircut, in my opinion, but other than that there was nothing wrong with the view. Actually, he was very hairy all over.

“Marty, you once told me that you fantasize about a woman dressed all in leather who tells you what to do. You said that if you disobey her she whips you. Do you remember that?”

“Yes.” His flaccid cock began to lengthen.

“I want you to picture that woman in your mind right now. Picture in your mind that a leather-wearing dominatrix has walked into the room. She commands you to start stroking your cock until it is nice and hard. But, she tells you that you will not cum until you have her permission. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Do what the dominatrix tells you, Marty.”

He hadn’t begun to stroke his cock yet, but it was already becoming engorged with blood. In no time he was rock hard.

“Marty, the dominatrix wants you to do something you’ve never done before. She takes out her whip and tells you that you will do what she says or be punished. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he said, pumping his long, hard cock with his big hand.

“She tells you that you are here to give pleasure to someone for her. She says that you will not be allowed to cum until you obey her. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

I went to collect Nick from the bathroom. Red-faced and sweating he was pumping away at his hard cock. Though he was leaking small amounts of precum, he had not cum, as instructed.

“Stop stroking, Nick. Follow me.”

Back in the den Marty was busy fucking his fist, and, though he was breathing hard, he had not cum.

“Marty, you will now stop stroking yourself and walk over here.”

He stepped forward. I positioned him and Nick directly opposite each other.

“Marty, the woman in leather tells you that when you open your eyes you must pleasure the person standing in front of you. You will go down on this person. You will enjoy doing it because you know that it makes the woman in leather happy and keeps her from punishing you. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Nick, when you open your eyes you will see a man you’ve never met before. You will know that he alone holds the power to make you cum. You will want to suck him off because you know you’re a toy for his pleasure. Your mouth has only one purpose—to bring pleasure to this man. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Of course, the quickest way for you both to cum would be to sixty-nine. But I leave the mechanics to you. Open your eyes, Marty, Nick.”

They both looked at each other in what can only be described as hungry manners.

“Go to it, boys.”

I’m not generally a voyeuristic person, but sitting in my chair and watching these two boys, these former friends, go at it on the floor was strangely arousing. I could tell them anything right now and they’d do it to each other. So I sprinkled in a few helpful suggestions.

“Shove your fingertip in his anus, Nick.”

“Take him all inside, Marty.”

“Lick the sweat off those big balls of his, Nick.”

Soon they were both sweating, panting, and grappling with each other, chests heaving, soft grunts and moans escaping their mouths. I decided to not make them wait much longer.

“Okay, boys, on my command you will both reach orgasm. Are you ready?”

Two muffled responses told me they were both ready.

“Remember to swallow every drop and lick your lover clean, boys. Now, cum!”

Two groans of pleasure and a lot of thrusting later they collapsed side by side on the floor. I waited for their breathing to return to normal.

“Nick, go to the bathroom and dress, then return here. Marty, put on your clothes and wait for my command.”

Once Marty was dressed and waiting I gave him his final instructions. “Marty, when you awaken you will remember the feeling of sucking off a man while being sucked but you will believe it was a dream. You will recall the feelings of pleasure that being a cocksucker brought you as though it were a very realistic dream. You will begin to think about making your dream come true. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You will return in two nights. I expect you to be wearing your leather jock when you return. 1...2...3.”

I ushered Marty out the door as soon as he had his sneakers and coat on then grabbed Nick’s sneakers from the closet and returned to find him waiting in the den.

“Nick, from here on out you will imagine yourself as a toy for other men. You will use your body to please them. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I’ll see you in two nights. 1...2...3.”

Nick stepped into his sneakers and exited into the cold night air.

I leaned against the door. That was diverting.