The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Christopher, Craig & Co.

Part 21: Bartenders.

I was lying on the living room couch watching an old Bette Davis movie on the late show when the front door opened and two voices floated into the room. I switched off the TV. Who on Earth would be arriving here at almost two in the morning?

Wade and Scott stood in the foyer; Scott held a tub of ice cream and a chocolate cake.

“We figured since you didn’t come to the bar we’d bring some bartenders’ advice to you,” Scott said, flashing a dazzling smile.

I frowned.

“Seriously though, Chris, I’m sorry. No breakup is ever easy.”

I looked accusingly at Wade.

He raised his eyebrows. “I was worried.”

“Well, c’mon into the kitchen, guys.” I walked down the hall.

Wade got plates and silver and cups. Scott opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of iced tea.

“What you have to keep in mind,” Scott said, “Is that bars are kept in business because love sucks. People go there to meet, and when it doesn’t work out they go there to drink and forget and meet someone else.”

“I’m not much of a drinker,” I said, shoveling ice cream into my mouth. This was good.

“The problem with relationships is that somebody always has the power. I don’t remember where I read it, but along time ago I saw this and never forgot it: The one who loves least has all the power.”

I shrugged. In any relationship I could have all the power if that was what I wanted. But it really wasn’t my goal to have a lover I could completely control. I had had that with Craig in the beginning. He would have done anything I asked, anything I commanded. But the problem with that kind of boy is that it’s no longer love, it’s simply mindless devotion spurred by a reward and punishment lifestyle. Yes, there were times when I wanted to be in control. But there were also times when I wanted an equal with a will of his own, and the intelligence to challenge me and keep me on my toes.

“I believe that,” Scott was saying. “It’s gotten me in trouble. I always go all out for a guy and end up stepped on. What my last boyfriend pulled...well, you’d laugh.”

Wade was working on his second piece of cake. “Don’t leave us hanging.”

“Well, his name was Rob. He was a honey, too. At least at first. Then things started disappearing from my apartment. First it was a sweater, then some cds. One night I came home from work and the TV and VCR were gone. Turned out Rob had a gambling problem. The bigger problem was that he was using my stuff as a bankroll!”

“Aw, geez,” I said, trying to suppress a grin.

Scott shook his head. “What really got me was he never even had the decency to apologize. Or offer to pay me back.”

I sighed. Even a hot young guy like Scott wasn’t immune to the problems of love. I reached back and massaged my neck with my fingertips. The whole situation was giving me a pain in the neck. Literally.

“Let me do that,” Scott said, getting to his feet.

“Do what?” I asked in surprise.

He stepped behind me and began kneading my neck and shoulders with his strong hands. “You are tight,” he said.

“I’m on the rebound,” I shot back.

He laughed. “Good one. I considered becoming a masseuse at one point before I took the bartending course. I kind of realized if I did this for a living I wouldn’t want to do it for the people I like...” Scott stopped and laughed nervously.

Whatever he was doing felt really good.

“Y’know, I looked up hypnosis online. I found some website with all these Erotic Mind Control stories on it.” He was squeezing and rolling my shoulders. “Do you think people can really be hypnotized into these automatic sex machines?”

I coughed.

Wade laughed. “Sure, but who would want one?”

Maybe I didn’t have to worry about his memories of Donald returning after all.

“I was maybe going to call you and ask you if you really thought it would help my stage-fright. But now, of course, you have more important things on your mind.”

“Don’t be silly, Scott. Helping you might be a welcome distraction. But I’d want to discuss this much further with you before putting you under.” I turned around to look at him.

He dropped his hands to his sides. “Okay.”

Looking into his glittering eyes I made a promise to myself that I would not hypnotize Scott for sexual purposes. He was a nice guy asking for help with a problem. Much like Andrew, only with a more focused goal. I couldn’t blur the lines.

And I really didn’t have the heart to start up anything with him. I love Craig, despite his unfaithfulness. I needed to talk to him.

But it was two in the morning.

And he wasn’t at home.

To be continued in Part 22...

Christopher, Craig & Co.

Part 22: Reworking David.

Well, I should probably admit that I had made an error in judgment the last time David was over. But the next morning when a clearer head prevailed I called him and rectified the situation. David would no longer be wearing his socks in the shower. Rather, much like a baseball player who doesn’t change his socks on a winning streak, David would be wearing this particular pair of white crew socks indefinitely.

That was Sunday morning. It was now the following Friday, and David had been wearing his socks for nearly a full week. He was due at the house at any moment, and I was ready for another session with him.

David walked in, kicked off his workboots, went down on one knee and sniffed each shoe lovingly. He then stood as though this were absolutely ordinary and followed me into the den.

His white socks were showing the six days’ wear. The bottoms were filthy; they were wrinkled and twisted, and stuck to his feet. He obviously had not changed them all week.

David sat on the couch, his legs spread, his cock obviously erect in his jeans. That must have been some sniff he’d just taken.

“Closet Cop.” I said, then waited for him to lapse into his suggestive state. I sat in my chair and leaned forward a bit. “David, how do you feel?”


“That’s good. Did you have a good new year?”


“I’m glad. When is the last time you masturbated?”

“Last night.”

“What were you doing?”


“Yes. While you masturbated.”

“Ohhh. I was sniffing my sneakers. I had gotten home from the gym. I had a long workout last night.”

“Excellent. I’m glad to hear that. Because, David, each day your workout should be becoming longer and more intense. You want to pump up your muscles. You want to be big and strong. Have you changed your socks?”


“Have you taken them off at all?”

“Only when I shower. Then I put them back on.”

“That’s a good boy. You will continue to wear your socks without being able to change them. We want to get at least a full week out of these socks. Do you understand?”


I looked at his shoeless feet and grinned. “One more thing about those socks, David. I think that at night while you sleep you should sleep with your shoes on. Yes, that should make for an even better smelling shoe for you. You will wear your shoes to bed each night. Do you understand?”


“Now, David, have you been thinking about becoming a slave?”

“Yes.” He was smiling.

“That’s good. Because a slave has many responsibilities. The first is to be able to be restrained. You’re a detective. You have handcuffs?”


“Good. You want to wear your handcuffs, don’t you, David? Don’t you want your wrists to be restrained by handcuffs? Don’t you want to feel the cold steel against your flesh and know that you cannot separate your hands until you are allowed to?”


“You want to wear handcuffs so much that every night you will put on your handcuffs before going to bed. Do you understand?”


“What will you do?”

“Put on my handcuffs before going to bed.”

“That’s right. What else will you wear to bed?”

“My shoes.”

“Exactly. In the morning you will take off your handcuffs and get out of bed. This will be a part of your daily routine now. Do you understand?”


“How is your investigation going?”

“My boss is demanding a report. I told him I was close to something and that I’d let him know as soon as it was definite.”

I nodded. “Continue to stall. You must not reveal anything about Mitch or the Club. Let’s see, I believe you can handle one more change today. I know! Each day at the gym you will try to sniff one man’s shoes. It doesn’t matter what you must do to pull it off, you must sniff another man’s shoes. It can be in the locker room, the rest room, or the actual gym, but you may not leave your workout until you find another man’s shoes to sniff. Do you understand?”


“You may ask for permission, if you wish, or you may want to sniff shoes in secret. You might not want other people to know what you’re doing. You may just find a way to get your nose close to other men’s feet in secret. I leave that decision to you, David. Do you understand what you must do?”


“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I do?”

“David, how do you address your commanding officer at work?”

“Lieutenant or sir.”

“That’s good, David. You should begin addressing all men in power as SIR. If you want to be a slave, you must learn to show respect for the men with power over you. In the future you will address me as ‘sir’. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s a good boy.”

Craig walked into the den and stopped short. “I didn’t know you were busy,” he said, eyeing David. His gaze fell on the bulge at David’s crotch.

“I’m nearly done,” I said.

He nodded. “I think I’ll wait upstairs.”

I watched him turn and listened for his footsteps on the staircase.

“David,” I said, “There’s something else.” I kicked off my shoes. “I want you to come over here and sniff my feet.”

He moved to stand.

“No, David. Drop to your knees. Crawl over here. That’s it. Sniff my feet.”

He was on all fours, with his nose buried in my right sock.

“That’s it, boy, Smell my socks. Worship them. They smell so good you want to taste them. You can. Lick the bottoms of my feet, boy. Worship my socks. Sniff them. Taste them. That’s right. You know you want to, boy. You want to be a good slave.”

David did as commanded. He ran his tongue over the soles of my socked feet. He sniffed every inch of them. Then he began to suck on my toes through my socks. He was touching himself, I knew, but my cock had also responded to his worshipping my feet. I was now fully erect.

“David, that’s it. You like sucking on my feet. But you’d rather suck on my cock. A good boy would want to taste my cock now.” I unfastened my jeans and freed my cock.

David leaned back from my feet and stared at my erection.

“That’s it, David. Suck my cock.”

He crawled forward between my legs and lowered his mouth onto my cock. He licked along the shaft. He sucked on the head. He began to take more and more inside his throat.

“That’s it, David. Keep sucking. When I cum, you will. I know you understand. You’re a good boy. A slave will please his master before he receives pleasure himself. That’s good.”

I leaned back in the chair and let him suck my cock. He was very good at what he was doing. And it served Craig right. He’d been having sex with Alan for months. He actually seemed to be in love with Alan. Well, David was just a meaningless blowjob. I grabbed the arms of the chair and moaned. “Cum!”

As I filled his mouth David shuddered and exploded in his jeans. We rode it out together and then I zippered my pants and put on my shoes.

“David, sit back on the couch. You will pay no attention to the large cum stain on your pantleg. It’s time for you to go home now. 1...2...3.”

David licked his lips. “I should go home.”

I saw him to the door, waited for him to step into his boots, and then called up the staircase, “Craig!”

To be continued in Part 22...