The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Biker got off the bed and rushed from the room, leaving Jarrod on the bed. After a few minutes the leather covered figure entered the room, quickly he placed an M.P.3 and headphones on Jarrod’s head, and started the M.P.3. The figure kept looking at the open door as whatever was on the M.P.3 run its course straight into Jarrod’s brain.

The leather figure lifted one of the earplugs of the headphones from one of Jarrod’s ears; the figure leaned forward and started to whisper in Jarrod’s ear. Jarrod moan as two lots of information entered his fuck up brain at the same time. There was a sound from outside the door, the figure looked up.

The Biker entered the room, it was empty. The Biker walked over to the bed he looked down at Jarrod lying on the bed. Without seeming to notice, The Biker picked up the butt-plug and slid it back in, letting out a low moan as the plug slid in deep. Then as if nothing had happened The Biker left the room. A few minutes later the sound of a running shower could be heard. The leather figure returned to the room, he replaced the headphones back onto Jarrod, turned on the M.P.3 player, and started whispering in Jarrod’s ear again.

The shower felt great, The Biker ran his fingers through his now high and tight cut wet hair, letting the water run down the back of his hands, to wash away the torrent of strange thoughts spinning around in his head. He had hoped that shower would refresh him, clear his head, but today it seemed particularly stagnant. The Biker lingered longer under the warm water; he reached for a bottle of shower gel and rubbed it all over his body. As he rubbed around his arse he felt something move in it. It was odd. The sensation was wonderful for a moment it worried him, then he dismissed any question about it and carried on with his shower.

Jarrod moaned again, as the leather figure slowly jerked his cock and whispered in his ear. The M.P.3 player had come to an end; the figure had replaced it with another, turning it on. He let go of Jarrod’s cock, it was semi hard, it would not do for The Biker to return and find Jarrod with a hard dick. An ice pack was placed in Jarrod’s cock he moaned louder as he felt the ice on his cock. The leather figure went on whispering into Jarrod’s ear, the information from the M.P.3 poured into his head.

The Biker stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. As he bent over to dry off his legs, The Biker found that he could feel something move in his arse, he could feel the pressure of the object pressing against his rectum and spreading his arse cheeks. The Biker stopped now completely alert.

“What the fuck?” He muttered, as he rushed forward to the full wall mirror across the bathroom. In its surface The Biker could see the whole of his body, he turned slightly. Buried deep in his arse was a butt-plug he could clearly see the base in his butt crack. The Biker repeated the exclamation again, only louder. “...what the fuck...?” He must have had it in before he stepped into the shower, and hadn’t even realized it. But how, the last time he remembered seeing it was on the bed beside Jarrod, after he had pulled it out.

The Biker pulled the plug out his arse and through it on the floor. He then finished drying himself. The Biker bent down and picked up the plug, and slid it back into his arse. The Biker thought about putting on some clothes, but decided not too, he was only going to fuck Jarrod some more. He moved towards the door, and felt the plug up his arse move. “...what the fuck...not again…?” He cried, as he turned and looked at himself in the mirror. Once again he could see the base of the plug between his arse cheeks. The Biker pulled the plug out again, and though it across the room, and left. A few second later, The Biker returned picked up the plug and once again slid it into his arse, and left.

The Biker walked back into the room, and over to Jarrod on the bed. “Wake bitch, and suck my cock!” Ordered The Biker, as he got onto the bed he felt the plug move deeper into his arse. “Fuck no!” Moaned The Biker as he lay on his back on the bed, but this time he did not pull it out, he grabbed the base and started to fuck himself. Jarrod got up on his hands and knees; he leaned over The Biker’s cock. Jarrod’s mouth slid down over the whole cock, he started working on The Biker’s cock. The Biker fucked his own arse with the plug. “I can’t stand it anymore. Fuck me, bitch!” Cried The Biker.

Jarrod pulled up off The Biker’s cock, and got into position between The Biker’s legs. Then Jarrod threw and pinned The Biker’s hairy legs up against his chest so his feet were pointed up towards the ceiling. This made The Biker feel excitingly-vulnerable like never before. “Fuck me, Oh fuck me!” The Biker was crying over and over. The Biker’s chin was resting on his hairy chest and he watched as Jarrod pulled the butt-plug out his arse, and mounted him. Jarrod violently sliding in more and more of his giant cock into The Biker’s ass. The Biker cried out first in surprised and pain, and then in enjoyment. He could barely manage to moan out, “Yeaaa! Yeaaa! Oh, Fuckk, yesss!” as his cherry was completely, and totally broken. Jarrod fucked The Biker like he was a 50 cent whore he ploughed deep and hard into The Biker’s arse. After what seemed like hours to The Biker, Jarrod cum, The Biker felt Jarrod’s spunk fill his arse. Jarrod’s orgasm did not last long. The Biker was now on some sort of a high: “Fuck that was so good. Fuck me again Bitch!” The Biker begged. Jarrod pulled out of The Biker, and moved back slightly, he was still between The Biker’s legs.

“Fuck, no what the fuck you doing!” screamed The Biker, as Jarrod thrust two of his fingers into The Biker’s already violated arse, and worked them in deep, and roughly. The Biker cried out loudly, as he tried to push out the invading fingers, but he was unable to do anything. Jarrod forced in his third finger even louder cries to stop came from The Biker. “You told me that you wanted me to fuck you again, you did not say with what. I’m going to ram my whole fist and forearm deep into you, and fuck that pussy arse of yours. Just like my Master told me.” Said Jarrod. The Biker shook his head to clear it, something was wrong. He (The Biker) was Jarrod’s Master, so he should obey him. So who was this Master Jarrod spoke of! “Fuck, go to hell, stop.” Begged The Biker. Jarrod’s third finger was quickly followed by his fourth. Jarrod forced all four fingers even more roughly in and out of The Biker’s arse. The whole of The Biker’s body was now shacking, sweat run of it onto the bed.

Suddenly waves of lust and pleaser rushed through The Biker’s whole body. An overwhelming wanting to have his hole filled and fucked became the only thing The Biker wanted he started crying out for his arse to be filled even more. Jarrod tucked his thumb underneath all his other fingers and slammed his whole fist straight into The Biker’s arse. The Biker screamed out. “Please don’t stop, I want more inside me!” Jarrod did not stop, The Biker felt his arse-hole stretched wider, and wider as more, and more of Jarrod’s fist penetrated him. This was not a dick inside him now, but something much, much larger, and it was painful, but The Biker loved it. The Biker felt his hole snapped shut around Jarrod’s wrist became firmly lodging it in his arse. Jarrod started a rough and hard fuck of The Biker’s hole with his fist. With each hard deep thrust he managed to slide more and more of his forearm into The Biker’s gaping hole. Once Jarrod’s arm was quite the way in he gave The Biker a few hard rough thrusts, and pulled his arm out. The Biker was now so high he did not even notice.

While this was going on the leather covered figure entered the room, and stood watching. As soon as Jarrod had pulled out of The Biker, the figure moved near to Jarrod and in a soft, but commanding voice said to Jarrod. “Sleep Slave Jarrod!” Jarrod’s head fell onto his chest, and he fell onto the bed beside The Biker. The Biker managed to lift up his head, he saw the leather covered figure standing there. Before The Biker could say, or do anything, the figure reached up and pulled off his hood. The Biker found himself looking up at the face of his second in command, Thornhill.

Thornhill smiled down at The Biker, and then he spoke to The Biker. “Well if you’re wondering what’s going on, why you’re feeling like you are. And how it happened, I tell you!” He moved near The Biker lying on the bed. “I got back to MASTER’s base just as Jarrod was over powering you. I thought about rescuing you for all of 2 seconds, before I decided to take over. So I slipped into the base and added to Jarrod’s brainwashing of you. It was a pity that another of the gang had removed the magic mushroom pills. But I did find one which I gave to you with a large dose of Vodka. I also tweaked Jarrod training as well, I’m his Master now.” Thornhill stopped talking and gave The Biker another smile. He quietly said something to The Biker who lost consciousness.

The Biker was suddenly conscious again, he was standing, naked at attention. He found that he could not move a muscle, In front of The Biker, staring at him was Thornhill. In the shadows behind Thornhill stood Jarrod. To one side of Thornhill, frozen in a chair, with a glazed look on his face and staring straight ahead, was a young man in a Pizza Hut uniform. “This is Marat!” Said Thornhill. “I’ve ordered a take away for you, and his it.” Thornhill pointed to the young man in the Pizza Hut uniform. “Time to start. The Biker you can now move, but you must, you will obey me!” Thornhill told The Biker. “Now, work and suck your take away’s dick.”

The Biker got down on his knees in front of Marat. He was powerless to do anything but what he had been told to do. He struggled against his orders, but he still reached out and pulled down Marat’s trousers, and then his underwear. Marat’s crotch was now completely exposed. The Biker grabbed Marat’s dick in his hands and began to play with it. He did this in spite of Marat’s cries for him to stop. The Biker ignored him. He had his orders to follow and he was intent on doing so. He rubbed and stroked Marat’s limp cock in his hands. Marat’s penis began to harden in The Biker’s hands.

Seeing this happening, The Biker changed his approach. He leaned forward and using his tongue, started licking his tongue up and down Marat’s growing dick, encouraging it. He didn’t want to enjoy what he was doing, but The Biker couldn’t help it. New sensations were washing over him. Strange, pleasant sensations. Nothing he’d ever experienced before. But still, The Biker tried to resist. This perverted activity just wasn’t him. He was Master, he was a top. And this wasn’t the sort of thing he enjoyed. But The Biker couldn’t lie to himself, he was enjoying it.

As soon as Marat’s penis was fully upright, firm and rock hard, The Biker stopping licking and wrapped his mouth around it, and started to suck, while he continuing to caress it with his tongue while it was in his mouth. The zonked out Marat couldn’t believe what was happening; a naked man was in front of him, on his knees sucking on his fully erect dick! But what was really strange was that it felt good. With each suck, a jolt of pleasure shot through Marat. Damn, it felt so good! Marat had never imagined that something like this could feel so incredible. All thoughts were now gone from his mind except for those of The Biker on his dick.

A moan of delight escaped Marat’s lips, followed by another and another. The Biker continuing to suckle on Marat’s cock the whole time. It wasn’t long before Marat was sweating, panting and moaning. The Biker sucking faster and faster and faster as time flew by. Marat could feel himself building to a climax, the pressure in his balls rising. The time came. Marat’s dick released, shooting his hot, salty cum down The Biker’s throat. The Biker drank from him, hungrily slurping it all down.

With a final moan, Marat shot the last of his load, the sensations of pleasure faded he started to feel shame and fear. What the hell had happened here The Biker kept on sucking until he was sure that Marat was completely dry, that no more of his hot, salty juices would be coming? Marat felt exhausted; The Biker began to lick the last drops of cum from the end of Marat’s cock. Once that was done, The Biker moved back away from Marat, his work now completed.

“Now, Marat.” Said Thornhill. “I want you to give The Biker’s ass a good fucking. Now get yourself an erection.” Thornhill wandered over to a table and picked up a clear plastic cup. He then returned to Marat and The Biker. At Thornhill’s orders, Marat jerked his penis, it immediately began to stiffen and rise. A few seconds was all it took for it to become rock hard and erect. Thornhill looked at the size of Marat’s erect penis. It was wider and thicker than his own.

“Good, slave.” Said Thornhill. “But remember be gentle, consider the size of your cock. Fucking The Biker too hard could injure him, and I have need of him intact.” Thornhill took a seat on a chair. “Yes, Sir.” Marat said, Thornhill nodded. Marat stepped forward and stood behind The Biker. He waited for his master’s permission to begin fucking The Biker. “By all means, begin fucking.” Thornhill said to Marat, “The Biker help with this. You know how.” Thornhill told The Biker. “Of course.” Said The Biker. He reached down and parted his ass with his hands.

Marat took hold of The Biker’s hips and slid his solid penis firmly into The Biker’s arse. The Biker gasped in delight and pain as Marat’s big cock entered him. For Marat it was bliss, a combination of obeying his new master and revenge, by fucking the man who had sucked his penis, and brought shame on him. Marat began thrusting in and out, hard and fast, as his Master’s orders, he was careful not to use too much of his supersize cock. “Very good, slave.” Thornhill said, encouragingly. “Keep going, keep fucking.”

Marat’s head was awash with the ecstasy of having his master’s approval, he kept on pumping his big hard cock into The Biker. Each savage thrust drew gasps or cries of pleasure, or pain from The Biker. It seemed that The Biker loved what was happening, just as much as Marat was. Marat’s balls began to throb. He could feel his climax coming. He would cum very soon. Marat’s body was burning up with sexual heat, sweat glistening on his muscles, and body beneath him and his thrusting dick, Marat could feel that The Biker’s body was just as hot, slick and sweaty as his own. Thornhill clicked his fingers, and held up the plastic cup : “You know what to do Bitch!” Said Thornhill.

Jarrod stepped out of the shadows, and took the cup: he stepped forward and crouched beside The Biker. Jarrod roughly grabbed The Biker’s rock hard penis and began roughly rubbing it, up and down. Beating The Biker off. “C’mon now, Bitch.” Said Thornhill to The Biker. “Time to be milked. Time to give up your juice. Time to become the Man-cow you really are.” Marat speeded up his thrusting. “Yes... Master.” Said The Biker, between his gasps and moans.

“There’s a good little Bitch.” Thornhill replied. “Now Bitch, as soon as Marat reaches his climax and shoots his load, you will shoot your own load. Understand Bitch?” The Biker merely nodded. By now, he was too out of breath to say anything. Suddenly, the thrusting Marat couldn’t hold back any longer, He had to release his cum. And he did, his hard powerful penis shooting hot cum deep into The Biker.

The Biker’s head shot back, he unleashed a scream of pure delight, satisfaction and pain. His own dick released, shooting his cum in a strong steady stream. Jarrod managed to catch as much of it as he could in his plastic cup. But he did not stop milking The Biker’s cock, he kept jerking it long after The Biker had stopped shooting cum. The Biker moaned in pain, begging Jarrod to stop, but he did not he milked every last drop of cum from The Biker’s penis. With a final hard downwards jerk Jarrod let go of The Biker’s cock. His job done, Marat slid his dick out of The Biker’s ass, and stepped back, catching his breath.

Even after the fucked and milked, The Biker yearned for more, to indulge again in same form of sexual act with another man like he had just done, preferably with Thornhill. But he knew that that would not happen until Thornhill deemed it was time that he was worthy. “Now you’ve been milked.” Thornhill said to The Biker. “Now you’re truly mine.” Thornhill knew he had taken a step near to controlling The Biker. “Yes, master.” Said The Biker, he gazing adoringly up at Thornhill. “Yours forever.” He whimpered. “Good bitch.” Thornhill smiled, he patted The Biker on the head like he was a dog who’d just performed a trick for him.

Marat his body exhausted collapsed to his knees. Thornhill held the plastic cup full of The Biker’s cum in front of Marat. ““Now drink his milk.” Thornhill told Marat. “And you to will become truly mine.” Thornhill pushed the plastic cup into one of Marat’s hand. Marat struggled against what he had been told, but he still griped the cup and lifted it too his lips, then he drank down the cup’s entire contents. Marat lowered the cup, and licked his lips of the last drops of The Biker’s cum. “Master!” Whimpered Marat, he too was now a slave of Thornhill.

Thornhill spoke to all three men. “Now I have to go and remove Marat’s transport, we don’t want the police around, asking about a missing person.” The three guys just stood staring straight ahead. Thornhill moved over to The Biker, who was still bent over with his hands pulling his butt cheeks apart, cum was running out it. “As you can see my man-cow is ready to be fucked, again. Jarrod Marat fuck him, Jarrod you take his arse, Marat you fuck his mouth you’ve already had his hole.” As Thornhill had finished talking he had reach the door, he turned and looked in the room, Jarrod and Marat had started to slowly move nearer to The Biker.

While he was being fucked by Marat, The Biker’s head had started to clear; the mist, the strange thoughts, the great need for a large erect penis and the longing to serve a master, slowly started to fade. By the time Marat had cum in his hole, and Thornhill had told him that he was now his, The Biker was nearly his old self. He had stayed bent over, he gritted his teeth at the plain in his arse, he made managed to reply to Thornhill in a whimper when told that he was now his. The Biker heard Thornhill leave the room. Marat was now standing by The Biker’s head The Biker knew that Jarrod was standing by his arse. In a flash The Biker struck, he shot up and turned slightly, he wrapped an arm around each of Jarrod’s and Marat’s necks. There was a loud cracking sound as The Biker banged the two guy’s heads together he let them go both men fell to the floor out cold.

Thornhill returned to the room, as he came through the door he stopped dead. What he saw was; rolling around on the floor bound in a straight jacket and a plug-gag in their mouth, were Jarrod and Marat. He could not see The Biker. Thornhill stepped into the room The Biker was behind the door, as Thornhill came into the room. As Thornhill walked into the room The Biker punched Thornhill behind the ear, Thornhill slumped to the floor unconscious.

Some Time Later;

In a dark, damp and unlit room deep under The Biker’s base; a room nobody used, lay Jarrod. He was bound into a straight jacket and had a plug-gag in his mouth. The Biker had had him thrown in there, after having no luck in breaking Thornhill’s control over him. The Biker also told him than one magic mushroom pill in an enema bottle full of Vodka like the one Thornhill had use on him (The Biker) was not the way to control anyone.