The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Master was going to be very pleased with me, I thought as I admired my reflection in the mirror. Yes, it hurt, but he had told me to do it, and I did it. I was a good boy.

I opened my mouth and stared at my new tongue piercing. I was a good boy. I WAS a good boy. I was a GOOD boy.

The phone rang and I hurried to answer it. “Hello?” I lisped a little from my swollen tongue.

“Craig, are you a good boy?”

“Yes, Master!”

“I knew you were. You’re my good boy. That’s all you want to be. I’m looking forward to seeing you at the Club this weekend. You’ll come home with me after you dance.”

“Yes, Master!”

“You’re still a work in progress, boy. The hair and tongue were a start, but I think I’d still prefer a more dramatic change in you. I’ll have to think on it. In the mean time, how are you progressing with Brian?”

“He’s been over every night this week…”

“What suggestions have you made?”

“He wears boxers now instead of briefs. And he goes into trance with his trigger.”

“This is disappointing, Craig. I expected you to be much further along. What’s the hold up?”

“Master never decided what I should do with him.”

Master let out a sharp laugh. “You’re right. Why don’t you begin by turning him into a redneck? That should be a noticeable change in him and a good test of both your abilities and creativity.”

“A redneck, Master?” I repeated.

“You have your instructions, boy. Carry them out.” The phone clicked.

A redneck? If that was what Master wanted that was what I had to do. I was a GOOD BOY! I wanted to make Master happy and obey him. Why did I feel a little bad about making Brian a redneck?

I set down the phone and returned to the bathroom mirror to look at the new barbell in my tongue. Brian would be over in a little while.

Just before ten Brian came up and sat on the couch. He was still wearing his clothes from his job at the hotel. I wondered if he knew how sexy he looked in his white shirt and tie. I wondered if Master would ever let me fuck Brian.

I sat down across from him and said, “Magician’s Assistant,” then watched as Brian’s chin dropped forward and he went into trance. I went through some of the deepening techniques that I had been taught and when I was completely sure Brian was deeply under I started with suggestions. I had spent some time online tonight looking up rednecks. I found a whole bunch of jokes about rednecks before I found enough information about what exactly a redneck guy would act like. Master was going to be very happy when I made Brian into a redneck. I WAS A GOOD BOY!

“Brian,” I said, trying to remember how Chris used to make really big changes in people. I never did anything this big on my own. But Master wanted me to, and I would do anything for Master. “Brian, tomorrow when you wake up you are going to start dressing different. You will have to wear a wifebeater, tight jeans and a baseball cap. You will dress like that every day. Sometimes you can wear muscle shirts instead if you want. But you will always wear jeans and a hat. Do you understand what you have to wear?”

“Yes.”

“What are you going to wear?”

“A wifebeater, tight jeans and a baseball cap.”

“That’s right, Brian. You know everything you say when you are in trance is the absolute truth because you can’t lie while you’re in trance. So if you say you have to wear a wifebeater, tight jeans and a baseball cap, then you know you absolutely have to. Right?”

“Yes.”

I looked at his polished dress shoes and his patterned gray socks. They wouldn’t do anymore. A redneck wouldn’t wear them. “Brian, do you have a pair of boots?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of boots?”

“Tims.”

“Cool. Starting tomorrow you can only wear your Tims. And white socks. Only white socks on your feet. Say it back to me.”

“I will wear my Tims and white socks.”

“Right, Brian. You’ve got it. You’ll dress like that every day. It’s your new uniform. But you won’t notice anything different, Brian. You’ll think you always dress like this. And you will always dress like this from now on.” Okay, that took care of his clothes. I couldn’t do everything in one night and there was a whole lot left to do to make Brian a redneck. But I had to start a little bit on his personality. Master wanted a redneck and Brian was too smart and polite and too much of a gentleman to be a redneck. I frowned at him. I liked Brian the way he was. But Master wanted a redneck and what Master wanted, Master got.

“Brian, starting tomorrow you will feel very cocky. You will feel very self-confident and very aggressive. You’ll act really full of yourself all the time. Do you know how you have to act?”

“Confident and aggressive and full of myself.”

“Right. But you’ll still keep coming here every night and letting me hypnotize you because you like it when I hypnotize you and you like to do what I tell you to do when you’re in trance. Right, Brian?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.” My tongue was starting to hurt from all this talking. It was time to wake Brian up and send him home. “When I count to three you’ll wake up and you’ll follow every instruction I gave you. And the next time I say Magician’s Assistant you’ll relax even more into trance and be ready for more instructions. 1…2…3.”

Brian opened his eyes. He cocked his head a little then seemed to shrug off whatever he was going to say.

“See you tomorrow night?” I asked.

“Sure.”

There was a message on the answering machine when I got home from Mike:

“Hi, Christopher. It’s Mike… My schedule was a lot busier than I thought but I’m coming back through town on Sunday and I was hoping you’d have time to talk. I’ll try to catch you later.”

Mike. I had forgotten him with all of the other excitement. I was sure I could make time to see him. I was still curious as to what had prompted his desire to talk.

I sat at my desk and fired up the computer. I couldn’t believe just how much Richard had managed to worm his way into another aspect of my life. Bastard.

And then it hit me.

Craig had been dancing at the Club.

My heart began racing.

I didn’t know what to do first. I felt responsible for this, whether it made sense or not. Craig was caught up in this because of me. I needed to get him out of it.

And what about Wade? Would he be safe? Richard had already tried to approach him. The son-of-a-bitch was coming after the people in my life. I needed to get a hold of Wade and make sure he was being careful.

And I needed Scott to call me back.

I picked up the phone, but quickly realized I didn’t have any idea what number Craig could be reached at.

I dialed information, but there was no phone listing for Craig Matthews. Then I remembered it would probably be under Alan’s name. Hell! What was his last name?

Jacoby! Alan Jacoby. I jotted down the number, clicked off, then dialed. After four rings I was ready to hang up when the phone was picked up.

“Hello?”

I couldn’t be sure from the tone who I was speaking to. “Craig?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Craig, this is Chris. Are you all right?”

No response.

“Craig, are you there?”

Still no response, but I was sure he hadn’t hung up.

“Craig, I can only assume you can’t talk right now because someone is with you. Sit tight. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”

I clicked off and glanced at the clock. Wade had a break around now. I dialed his number.

“Hey, Chris. What’s up?” he answered.

“Wade, are you still on campus?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I need you to be very careful today.”

“What? Why? What do you mean?”

“Richard’s coming after me and I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“Richard again? Chris, I haven’t seen him since that night at Kampas.”

“Please, Wade,” I said quietly. “This is important.”

“You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I have another class and then I’ll be home in about two hours.”

“See you then.” I clicked off and was startled when the phone rang in my hand.

“You rang?” Scott’s voice greeted my ear.

“Scott, thank God it’s you. We have major problems.”

“Hold it. What’s going on? Your message said something about Richard.”

I told him everything I knew about Richard taking over Leatherman’s Club, including my speculation that Leatherman and Bootboy were probably in some trouble and that Craig’s behavior was explained by contact with Richard. When I finished Scott was quiet.

“Jesus, what a mess,” he pronounced.

Master of Understatement. “Can you do anything about this?” I asked.

“I’ll have to report in. I don’t know though. It doesn’t sound like enough for an arrest.”

“How is that possible?”

“You’ve no proof, Chris. You said yourself that it’s mostly speculation.”

“I’m going to Craig’s. I have to check on him.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Suppose Richard has hypnotized Craig. Don’t you think Craig would report right back to him that you were there?”

I frowned. I couldn’t argue with his logic. “Then I guess there’s only one solution.”

“Wait for the police to become involved?”

“No. By then it will be too late and Craig’s life will be ruined.” I knew before I said it that Scott was going to hate it. “I’m going to have to go over there and get him.”

“Get him?” Scott repeated.

“Yes. Until I can undo whatever damage Richard has done to him he’ll have to stay here.”

“You’re moving him back in with you?” Scott’s tone was difficult to read.

“Temporarily. If I have to I’ll keep him locked up until he’s out of Richard’s control.”

“You can’t hold him against his will. It’s kidnapping.”

“It’s for his own good.”

“Chris, listen to reason. You can’t do this.”

“I can’t NOT do it! I of all people know how Richard can destroy a life.”

Scott was quiet for a moment. “What if we can use Craig to get the good on Richard?”

“I won’t sacrifice him for your case, Scott.”

“I’m not asking you to sacrifice him. Just hold off until I can get proof of what’s happened. Then we can arrest Richard and make the charges stick.”

“Craig’s life would be ruined! Can you imagine the headlines? Craig would be known as the hypnotist’s slave.” While that might seem erotic to a subset of the population I doubted the general public would be able to handle the details.

Scott sighed. “I’m coming with you.”

“What?”

“At least that way I can say it was part of my investigation.”

“Scott, I don’t want to put your career in jeopardy.”

“I’m more worried about keeping you out of jail. I’ll leave campus now and pick you up.”

The beep of a horn told me Scott had arrived. I grabbed the sheet I had printed with the address of Alan Jacoby’s apartment and dashed out the door, pausing only to tape a note to the door for Wade.

I climbed in and faced Scott. “I love you.”

He looked skeptical. “What’s that have to do with anything?”

“I just think things like that should be said at times like now.”

“Oh.”

I gave him the address and we drove in silence.

“Scott, you’re not mad, are you?”

“No, I’m not mad.”

“You’re certainly not happy.”

“True.”

“I can’t let Richard have Craig. It’s just wrong.”

Scott glanced at me. “Who is this about? Craig? Or Richard?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean are you concerned about Craig’s welfare or do you just want to stick it to Richard?”

I frowned. “Actually both.”

He nodded. Signaling, he turned left and pulled into a parking lot. “We’re here.”

We walked together to the apartment, but the air definitely seemed frosty between us. The thought crossed my mind that trying to save Craig might cost me Scott. I wasn’t sure that was a consequence I could live with.

I pressed the buzzer for Alan’s apartment. It buzzed and we went in and up the stairs. Craig was standing in the doorway to his apartment. When he saw me he looked scared.

I can’t imagine how I looked, but I felt ill.

Craig stood in white socks and briefs, his hair platinum, and his nipples looked bruised.

Scott’s usual cool seemed to slip.

“Craig, you need to get dressed,” I said, forcing my way past him into the apartment.

“Master only allows me to wear these,” he said. When he spoke I realized his tongue had been pierced.

“Your Master sent us to get you.”

“He did?” he asked happily. “But Master said I’m not allowed to talk to you.”

So that explained the phone call. Bastard prevented Craig from being able to seek help from me. I wanted to grab Richard by the throat and squeeze the life out of him with my bare hands. I suddenly realized the conversation had lapsed. “Right now you are to put on clothes and shoes and ride with us to see your Master.”

“Master says a good boy doesn’t wear clothes or shoes.”

“He’ll explain when you see him.”

“But Master says…”

“Do I have to call him and tell him you refuse to cooperate?” I snapped.

“No, sir! I’m a good boy!”

I took a breath. That brought back a flood of memories—all of them bad. “Get dressed.”

“Yes, sir!” He hurried out of the room.

Scott looked noticeably pale. “Richard did that?” he asked softly.

I nodded. “That’s only what we’ve seen so far. God only knows what else he’s done.”

Scott sat on the arm of the couch. “How? I mean even with hypnosis—you can’t—” he stopped.

I patted his shoulder. “Actually you can. And I’m going to have to try to put him back the way he was.”

“Can you?”

“I hope so.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m going to have to break through whatever triggers Richard has established and try to become Craig’s Master in order to eventually free him.”

Craig reappeared, wearing jeans and a hoodie sweatshirt. He was holding a pair of sneakers.

“Let’s go,” I said.

The phone rang. Craig walked over and answered it. “Hello?” His face lit up. “Yes, Master!”

I winced.

Scott stood abruptly.

“Yes, Master. I’m a good boy! Yes, Master. Brian will come over again tonight. Yes, Master. Yes.” Craig hung up. “Master said he’ll see me tomorrow.” He stared hard at me. “Master didn’t send you.”

I looked at Scott.

“Why are you here?” Craig demanded.

I looked frantically around the room for something—anything—to help. There was nothing to restrain him with. I made a snap decision.

“Craig, you know why I’m here. Your Master sent me.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“He said that?”

“No—”

“You’re right. He didn’t. Because this is a test of your obedience. Are you a good boy?” As I said the words I felt revulsion the likes of which I hadn’t felt in years.

“Yes, sir.”

“Does a good boy question his Master?”

“No, sir.”

“Does a good boy do as he’s told?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then come with me.”

Craig hung his head. “Yes, sir.”

As Scott and I marched toward the door, Craig behind us, still carrying his sneakers, Scott leaned over and whispered, “Now what?”

Good question.