The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

At exactly 2 PM, Mallory entered the Blue Sparrow Motel grounds with an assured smile and his thin black leather briefcase. He paused right in the center of the lot, adjusted a device in his right ear, and the sounds around him intensified to extreme limpidity. He focused on the loudest. A ball being dribbled. Feet shuffling on asphalt. He reckoned it was two young men playing basketball next to the pool. He had seen the small court last night. Someone typing on a computer. Behind him. From the office. What else? Only the hum of electric equipment, water flowing through pipes, and other background noises. Good. He had anticipated that the motel would be almost deserted at this hour. He walked to the office, and opened the creaking door.

He came into a small cramped room. The large wooden counter left barely enough space for three people to stand before it. Behind and perpendicular to the counter, a desk filled the remaining length of the wall, cluttered with a brand X computer. Fortunately, there was a tiny door in the back wall which allowed escape into a larger back room beyond. The walls were covered with faded notices and posters, except for a tiny window next to the entrance door. A blond nineteen-year-old with a tropical shirt sat at the computer, peering at the picture of a nurse with unnaturally huge breasts and very little clothing.

The teen did not even glance at Mallory. He just said: “Yes?” while he clicked to download another dirty picture.

“It seems quiet here this afternoon,” said Mallory.

“I guess,” mumbled the boy, taking a look at Mallory, whose appearance startled him. Mallory was used to this reaction—the black-suited, middle-aged bald man had an intimidating presence. The boy stuttered as he added: “Those who are not at the competitions or the conferences are at the beach. It’s a beautiful day for the beach.”

“And you’re working inside?”

“Someone must watch the fort.”

“What’s your name?”

“Ryan.”

“Well, Ryan, I need a room.”

Ryan stood up and picked up a large black book from behind the counter. He had a long face and a pointy chin, which added a bit of character to his attractiveness. His hair was parted off-center, in long blond strands falling just above his ears on each side. Good, Mallory thought. I need a little action.

“You’re lucky,” Ryan said as he opened the register on the counter. “We only have one room left, with all these conventions this week. Sign here.”

Mallory scanned the list of names as Ryan grabbed the only key left on the board above the desk. There it was: room 31. Gary Bloom.

“Here you go,” Ryan said, putting the key on the counter, as Mallory signed the register as “Mel Smith”.

Before he took the key, Mallory extended the palm of his right hand towards Ryan, and gave it a little shake. A faint click could be heard.

“What’s that wave for?” asked Ryan, with a sneer.

“It’s just my watch, it stopped.”

Mallory looked at his watch. The display indicated: GR.21.186.83.90.

“Well, is there anything else I can do for you?” asked Ryan, his attention focused on his computer screen again.

Mallory pointed to the computer. “Is that Netscape on the computer?”

“Yeah...?”

“Would you mind if I used it for a minute or two? I need to access something private urgently.”

Ryan was uneasy. “We don’t usually do that.”

“Come on! It’s not like you were using it for something crucial?”

“I don’t know.”

“How about you let me use the computer, and I don’t talk to your manager about the dirty pictures?”

Ryan frowned. “Alright, but no more than five minutes.”

Mallory sat at the desk, Ryan hovering around him.

“This is private. Is there anything else you can do?”

Ryan was disappointed. “I guess I can go in the back and fold some towels.”

“Why don’t you do that then.”

Ryan disappeared and Mallory entered a cryptic address in Netscape. After identifying himself, the following appeared on the screen:

MINDSCAPE. Enter MIP address:

He typed GR.21.186.83.90.

The screen filled with apparent garbage. Mallory swiftly worked the keyboard like a concert pianist, the screen before him constantly spurting out new information. Then he smiled. There was the entry door he had suspected. Among the chaotic data, a phrase briefly flashed:

I hope it won’t take too long this guy sure is what’s that gross creepy

A few more measures of keyboard playing, and now the data looked like computer code in a weird language. This should be simple, Mallory thought, just insert a simple security bypass here, then link these two existing behavior patterns, and bingo.

“So, are you finished?” said Ryan, from behind him. “What’s that for?”

Mallory was startled. He quickly closed the browser window and got up.

“It’s all yours,” he said. “I’ll just sit here for a minute and write some notes.”

“Suit yourself,” said Ryan.

He opened a new browser window, and entered the address of his porn site. Mallory shuffled a few useless papers while watching him from the corner of the eye. Soon, another picture of a woman appeared. For some reason, Ryan started to unbutton his shirt. After another picture was downloaded, he removed the flowery shirt, his eyes never away from the screen, and he let it fall to the floor.

Mallory extended his hand and grabbed the shirt. He smelled it, a mixture of sweat and CK One. Ryan was too engrossed by the screen to even care. He had now taken off his running shoes and socks, and clicked on the thumbnail of a close-up of a vagina. Mallory stood up and approached Ryan, watching him watch the screen. The image flashed in his eyes as it was downloaded. As soon as it was complete, Ryan, oblivious to Mallory, detached and unzipped his shorts. He lifted his butt off the chair and pulled the shorts off, his eyes always on the screen. He wore dark purple boxers with a black flowery pattern.

Mallory went behind him and started to rub his shoulders. Ryan, unconcerned, started another download. Mallory’s hands went down the boy’s chest, stopping a bit to stimulate his nipples. Then that other picture was done, and Ryan lifted himself up a bit again, pulling down his underwear. As he was about to discard it, Mallory snatched it from his hands. Ryan was now completely nude on his chair, his soft uncut dick resting plumply between his thighs.

Mallory smelled the slightly damp boxers. This time, the smell of sweat was mixed with a touch of feces. Mallory then kneeled on the right side of Ryan, rubbing his thighs, then cupping his balls. As another download concluded, Ryan started to fondle his dick. It swiftly grew erect.

When the next download concluded, Ryan started to masturbate more intently. Mallory got up, kissed him on the lips, then went back to his seat to enjoy. The next download was of two naked women doing a 69, and when it was complete, Ryan came instantly, spurting thick strings of white cum all over his chest.

“What the fuck?” he said, regaining the full use of his mind. He jumped up to his feet, knocking his chair back. “Gross. How the hell did this happen?” He turned towards the room, then was stunned to see Mallory there. He stood there for two seconds, completely naked, his dick more and more affected by gravity, cum oozing down his chest, then backed to the wall, grabbing the computer monitor and holding it in front of his middle body.

“You... You’re still... still here...” he said, growing red with embarrassment.

“Don’t mind me,” Mallory said, putting his papers back in his briefcase. “I’m going now. I’ll let you have your little fun privately.”

Ryan could only babble. “No... It’s not what you think... I lost it for a moment... I have no idea what came over me...”

“I think I do,” said Mallory, winking at him before he exited the office.

This is going to be fun, thought Mallory as he walked towards the two who were playing basketball. He heard their conversation long before he reached the tiny court.

“’ told you I’m not interested in her...”

Hoop. Ball hitting the ground.

“I’m not so sure, Kyle...”

Dribble. Dribble.

“Come on... Scott! There’s tons of women who interest me more than her...”

Dribble. Dribble.

“So you do admit being interested in her...”

Hoop.

Mallory opened the gate to the court and the two students stopped talking. The ball fell to the ground and rolled towards his feet.

“Hi!” he said. Now these ones were two good looking jocks: smooth chiseled chests and refined faces.

“Hi...” said the shortest one, which Mallory deduced was Scott from his voice. He wore a white T-shirt with sleeves rolled up to show his shoulders and his tattoo on the right one.

Mallory picked up the ball and offered it to him. When Scott grabbed it, Mallory discreetly shook his hand to get his MIP address.

“Is there something we can do for you?” asked Kyle, as Scott made the ball spin on the tip of his finger.

Mallory discreetly clicked a button on his watch to save the collected address. “As a matter of fact, yes. I’m a scout for Harvard University Athletics. I’m staying here during the convention. I couldn’t help hearing you two play and I was wondering if I could watch you for a little while.”

Scott tried another hoop. Kyle eyed Mallory suspiciously. “I guess so, it’s a free country.” He wore a black tank top and red shorts. His skin was well tanned, and contrasted significantly with Scott’s pale pinkish skin.

“Good,” he said, picking the ball which had rolled to him again. He handed it to Kyle this time, picking up the second jock’s MIP skillfully.

As they resumed playing, Mallory sat on a bench next to the gate and opened his briefcase on his lap. He awoke his PowerBook, then activated his cellular link to the internet. Within a minute, he was in Mindscape in two side by side windows, peering at the mechanics of Kyle’s mind on the left, and Scott’s mind on the right.

For jocks, their minds were unexpectedly complex. There were no overpowering addictions to clamp his own algorithms onto. He managed after five or six minutes to give Scott the urge to take off his T-shirt. Unfortunately, he instantly took a blue shirt from his pack which he put right back on. At least, he didn’t button it, and Mallory could see flashes of bare torso skin as they played on.

It took him a good ten more minutes before he discovered a lead: they were both highly competitive of each other. It would not lead to miracles, but with a little skill, he could at least not have wasted his time.

He quickly typed the necessary subroutines, then sent them almost simultaneously to each jock. They had sat down on beach chairs at the end of the court on his right. For a moment, they stopped moving and closed their eyes, as they downloaded the new information which Mallory had sent through Mindspace. Then Kyle sat on the edge of Scott’s chair, massaged his shoulder a bit and said: “Not too sore, I hope. How about a little motivation? Suppose we make it interesting?”

Mallory smiled.

“Go on.”

“We have an audience here,” Kyle said, nodding towards Mallory. “We’re both... modest guys, let’s say. How about strip basketball? The loser gets to be embarrassingly exposed to our scout over there.”

“What about the winner?”

“Hmm... I know! The winner gets a massage from the loser.”

“I’m game... But we stop at our underwear. We don’t want to be arrested for indecent exposure, do we?”

This was not part of the programming, Mallory thought. Fuck. Scott must have an emergency prudery interrupt. The two jocks went back to the court as Mallory started to trace his algorithm, eyeing them from time to time.