The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

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Note: Any resemblance to real people is strictly coincidental. No real people are depicted in this piece of fiction. This story contains explicit male to male sex, domination and bondage. If you don’t enjoy reading this sort of material or are under the age of 21, DO NOT CONTINUE READING. If you regard this type of material as depraved then flee from here and don’t look back!

Executive Stress Relief—Chapter 5

I felt great after my session with Mark; in fact, I’d never felt better. I made an appointment for the next day and caught a cab to the gym; it was time for my work out (One of the few things I do for myself). When I arrived, I went to my locker and began to undress. Then, as I got my jacket, shirt and slacks off, I realized I had some unusual additional accessories. I realized that I’d never seen anyone else at the gym wearing the tension-relieving devices I had around my balls and up my butt. What could I do? I was a little embarrassed by them. So I slipped into a toilet stall, taking a small laundry bag with me. Once hidden, I pulled down my briefs. My hand found its way to my stretched balls and I found myself fondling them, enjoying their sensitivity and the way they felt in my fingers. I leaned my head back and enjoyed the sensations as a groan escaped from my mouth. Someone shouted “Are you alright in there?” “Wh- what?” I stammered. “Oh... yeah, yeah, OK. No problem. Just a little tough this time of the morning. You know?” “OK,” the voice said. “You sounded a little distressed.” “Nope. No problem. Thanks.”

I had to be more careful. It was just that sometimes I just felt like I’d lost myself in these new feelings and I loved it. Back to business: I unsnapped the strap around my balls and dropped it into the laundry bag. Then I unsnapped the strap holding the device in my anus and gently expelled it into my hand. I had to stifle another moan as the feeling of emptiness came over me. How I loved that feeling of fullness! But I couldn’t very well wear it into the gym and the shower. So I wiped the lubrication off the device, took off the belt and dropped them into the bag. I took the bag back to my locker where I dressed in my workout clothes and hit the gym.

I’d never exercised with such enthusiasm before. I did more reps than I’d ever done, even though my arms and pecs felt like they were on fire before I’d finished. Presses, flies, curls, extensions. I was concentrating on my upper body and I felt it. Then I went to an incline board and started my crunches. Somehow I got through two-hundred crunches and my abs were singing in the key of G. God how it hurt. But all the while I heard Mark’s voice urging me on, telling how this would help me and make him happy. And what I really wanted was to make him happy. Don’t ask me why, but that was foremost in my mind—to make him happy. I finished up my body work and hit the elliptical trainer for my aerobics. Thirty minutes of hard pumping and I was finished. I headed for the shower. As I removed my sweaty clothes and got down to my jock, I realized that no one else in the room had shaved pubes. But there was nothing to do; I couldn’t leave without a shower. So I slid my jockstrap off, grabbed a towel and dove for the showers. Maybe nobody would notice. No such luck. I was soaping up, running my hands over my smooth cock and balls when Bill, one of the guys who regularly exercises at the times I do, whistled and called out “Hey Patrick. Wow. Are you getting into this body-building stuff that much? The only guys I know of who shave their crotches are the faggot body queens. What’s gotten into you?” “I just thought I’d try it to see,” I mumbled and turned away from him, flushing from head to foot. I hurried to finish my shower, dress and get out of there. But before I finished dressing, I returned to the stall, lubed the anal device, which I’d remembered Mark called a “dildo”, and inserted it, strapping it in place and then stretching my balls.

Back at the office, the day flew by. A couple of crises that were quickly dealt with and then just the usual “running the business”. All during the day, when I had a moment or two alone, I was fondling my balls which were stretched down the right leg of my slacks. Every time Jim came in to drop a request for proposal or contract work, I found my eyes wandering to his crotch. One time, he shifted awkwardly and I looked up to meet his eyes. He had this quizzical look on his face, as if he were asking “Aren’t you straight? What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” I mumbled that I liked the cut of his slacks and asked him where he’d bought them. He told me and walked slowly out of my office, casting a glance back at me over his shoulder. Finally, it was time to head for home. I bid Jim goodnight as he locked up while I finished up some odds and ends. At last, I powered my laptop off, stowed it in its case and went downstairs to grab a taxi.

I almost asked the driver to take me downtown to Mark’s office, but realized that he was sure to be gone by now. I wanted to see him. I just wanted to look at his face with the dark mustache, the even white teeth and sparkling smile and his deep blue eyes that I found so entrancing. I loved the feel of his strong hands on my body, stroking the tension away. Whenever I saw him, I felt calmed and right now, I was feeling mildly unsettled. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something wasn’t right. But he wouldn’t be there at this hour, so I gave the driver my own address.

The kids were thrilled to see me and Sarah was relieved to have me home in time for dinner. I told her to sit and have a glass of wine while I fed the kids. Then I bathed them and put them to bed. Sarah and I had a quiet supper together for once. As we sat there over the remains of dinner, I took her hand. “I love you more than I can say. I’m so glad you’re part of my life,” I whispered. She smiled quietly and said “I love you too Pat; more than you’ll ever know.” I rose and kissed her, snuffed the candles and, arm in arm, we went to the bedroom.

How can I explain this lovemaking? When I told Sarah I loved her, I meant it with all my heart. I still do and always will. But that night, like the last time, as we held and stroked and pleasured one another, in my imagination were the bodies of men. Dicks and balls, asses, tits, pecs. That was all I saw. I made love to Sarah, but my sex was with men. Can anyone understand? I certainly can’t explain it. And the face I was seeing was Mark’s. Those bluest eyes, that flashing smile and chiseled chin. I even imagined his body, though I was fairly certain I’d never seen it. But I saw it in my mind: a fur-coated chest with dark nipples poking through the forest of hair. A heavy cock and balls like eggs. And I wanted that cock. I felt the emptiness where his dildo had been, reminding me of his care. Obviously, I’d removed the dildo and the ball-stretcher before I’d gotten into bed with Sarah, but I could still feel its presence in my butt, or rather, I could feel where it should have been.

We cuddled until Sarah drifted off to sleep and then I slipped out of bed. I had some homework to do. I grabbed the suction cups out of my jacket pocket, went into my office and switched on my PC. I lubed my dildo, bent over and inserted it into my anus. Then I sat down, started my browser and keyed in an address that came into my head. As the page loaded, I took the suction cups, licked each one as Mark had instructed me and applied them to my tits. In spite of the fact that I’d just made love to my wife, my cock immediately began to lengthen and harden again. I looked up at the web page and found that it was a gay site, devoted to bondage, slavery, domination and mind control. I was repulsed and mesmerized by what I was reading and the pictures displayed. I couldn’t stop reading and looking as I went through page after page of stories and pictures about men in bondage and in slavery to other men. And my cock was throbbing.

Then I came upon a link entitled “Intake—Come In”. I automatically selected it. How can I put this? It told me that I needed to submit myself to my Master and focus my mind on him and his power over me. I couldn’t stop reading as the words sank into my mind and made themselves at home in my psyche. I was thinking them at the same instant I was reading them. I needed to be—wanted to be what my Master would make me into. I could and would become his boy, his slave. I would come willingly and gratefully under his domination and submit my being to his control. I could and I would. It was what I wanted; it was what I needed. The words filled my mind and I was taken into my Master’s control.

I’m not sure how I knew, but I realized that half an hour had gone by since I’d applied the cups. I reached down and pulled them off my chest with a pop. My nipples were swollen cones of sensitive pink flesh. They looked like the nipples on some of the slaves I’d seen being abused on the web site. I remembered that Mark had instructed me to use my pre-cum and massage it into my tits, so I took some on the fingers of each hand and reached up for my tits. As my slick fingers touched my flesh, I drew a ragged breath and a thrill sped down my spine. I groaned as I squeezed and twisted my swollen cones and my cock flew up against my belly. I opened my eyes and saw a picture of a man on what looked like a medical table on his hands and knees. Behind him stood a man in a lab coat (a doctor?) who was fucking him. I took my straining cock in my right hand and, moving my left hand back and forth from one hard, distended tit to the other, began to yank my aching pole as I rocked back and forth, riding the pole in my butt. In a matter of minutes, as I stared at that image, I plunged over the top and yelled aloud as I experienced a shattering orgasm, spewing cum all over my chest. I fell back, entirely spent, and used my remaining energy to rub the spunk into the fur on my chest. Then I fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke in the silence of the apartment. The clock read 2:35. My browser had disconnected by then, but the image was still on my screen. I saved it to a hidden folder on my hard drive, powered down and went back to go to bed. Somehow, I felt rested and refreshed. Whatever was happening to me seemed good because it made me feel so good. I put on my pajamas, climbed into bed next to Sarah and slept soundly while I dreamt of men.

Executive Stress Relief—Chapter 6

I awoke early and went to the bathroom to get myself ready for the day. When I took my robe off, I felt the dried cum matting the golden-red hair on my chest. I dislodged the dildo and took my morning shit. Then I climbed into the shower and began soaping down. Suddenly, I felt the urge to take my razor, run it down between my pecs and strip away the fur. I soaped down my chest and shaved between the mounds of my chest. I stopped a moment and looked down. Then I took a deep breath and, stretching my skin tight with my fingers, shaved away the rest, working carefully around each of my round, pink nipples. It took several passes to clean away all the hair because it kept clogging the blades so as I shaved and cleaned, I wondered why I was doing this? What had come over me to cause me to shave off the outward signs of my manhood. I felt the smoothness of my skin; smooth like it hadn’t been in years. If shaving my groin and ass had helped me to relax, shaving my chest would have the same effect, I told myself as I stood under the stream of hot water to rinse off.

Next, spreading my legs, I soaped my asshole and shaved away the stubble that had grown back. I liked the smoothness and didn’t want the hair growing back. Then, I soaped my finger and pushed it up my hole, wiggling it as I pushed in. I removed the shower attachment from the telephone-style fixture and pushed the hose in where my finger had been. I gently turned on the warm water and felt my gut expanding. When I felt I could hold no more, I turned off the flow. I held the water until I began to cramp up, then squatted over the drain and expelled it. At last, the farting and splashing stopped. I rinsed my butt and flushed everything down the drain. Then I soaped myself completely. I luxuriated in the silkiness of my freshly denuded skin. My hands went from my newly smooth chest and tits, down to my hairless cock and balls and I stroked myself to an erection. Then my left hand found its way to my anus and my fingers slipped inside. I sank back against the shower wall and, closing my eyes, moved my fingers in and out of my hole. How I wished it were a hard cock! I nearly came, but Mark’s face, which I was visualizing, frowned at me and I realized that he wouldn’t be happy if I let go at that point. So, reluctantly, I pulled my hand out of my ass and rinsed off.

I dried myself off, taking care not to stimulate my dick too much. Then I pulled my balls down and wrapped the stretcher around them, snapping it in place as I felt the sexy-painful tug reaching up into my abdomen. I lubed the dildo and, squatting down, inserted it into my ass. Then I put on the belt and snapped it in place. Finally, I got dressed and grabbed a cab down to Mark’s office for my treatment.

I rushed into the office because I couldn’t wait to see him, and there he was, waiting behind the desk. “Patrick, my boy! Good morning! Come on in,” he said, flashing his bright smile at me. I just stared at him. How could I be so lucky to have this handsome man as my doctor? How could I be so lucky as to have his hands on my body? He was beautiful! “Patrick? Are you OK?” “Uh, yeah... Sorry, I just zoned out there for a second,” I stammered. “Well we’d better get you in for a treatment. You seem to be a little stressed out this morning,” he said. “Yeah, thanks. I think you’re right. I’ll go in and get ready.” “Good. I’ll be right in. That’s a good boy.” I beamed at him. I was his boy! He was my doctor. He’d take care of me.

In the examination room, I stripped off my clothes and hung them on hangers. I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror and saw a body I’d never seen before. I remember, of course, that I wasn’t born with body hair, but it had been so long since I’d gotten the hair that I no longer remembered. And of course, I hadn’t been nearly so muscular when I was a boy. That was something that years of workouts and, quite simply, years, had added as I became a man. Now, here was this man/boy. A man’s body, but naked like a boy’s. My cock throbbed as I looked at myself.

Mark came into the room and glanced at my erection as he locked the door. “Well,” he said, “I see that your sexual performance is improving. Is your wife happier?” “Absolutely,” I said, “she seems more relaxed and content than she has in months. And I owe it all to you. I don’t know how to thank you...” “I’m glad. But we still have some work to do and once we get you to the place you need to be, we’ll have to keep you on a maintenance program so that you don’t revert to your old behaviors. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” “I sure wouldn’t.” “Good. I see you’ve shaved all your body hair as I directed you.” “Yes sir,” I answered, unsure of why I’d called him “sir”, but it suddenly seemed right when he mentioned my shaving. “Good boy. That’s an important step in your submitting to my regime. In order to get your tension fully under control, you must submit to my orders. Right?” “Yes sir. I must submit to your orders...”

Executive Stress Relief—Chapter 7

As he repeated the phrase I’d taught him during yesterday’s session, Patrick fell into the trance the phrase was designed to trigger. He stood there, tall and strong, his naked, denuded body displayed for me to feast my eyes on. His large, pale cock stood straight out from his body. It’s head was like a plum on the end of a marble shaft. I began to drool with desire, but tore my eyes from it. It wasn’t the time for that right now. His ice-blue eyes were fully open, but utterly lacking in consciousness. He wasn’t yet ready to be introduced to the hypnotic method that permitted me to use him as I wished while he was still fully conscious, but unable to control himself and thus be unable to resist me. I had a little more work to do before inducing this level of trance.

“Patrick? Can you hear me?” “Yes sir. I can hear you.” “What do you want to do for me, Patrick?” “I want to please you, sir. I want to do whatever you ask me to do.” “Very good Patrick. That’s a good boy. Are you my good boy, Patrick?” “Yes sir, I’m your good boy.” “Do you want to serve me Patrick?” “Yes sir. I want to serve you.” “Do you want to be my slave, boy?” “Yes sir. I want to be your slave.” “Very good Patrick. Do you want me to help you become my slave?” “Yes sir. Please help me become your slave, sir.” “Alright Patrick, my boy. I’ll do that. First, I want you to lie on the examination table and put your feet in the stirrups.”

As Patrick obediently climbed up onto the table and laid on his back, I drank in the sight of the muscles in his back and ass flexing under his white skin. I enjoyed watching his strong hands: the well-manicured nails, the wide gold band on his left hand. Sexy hands. I’d been dreaming of him for a long time now; ever since I found his photo on that magazine cover. Here he was; the man of my dreams, under my control. And he was beautiful and sexy. He placed his feet in the stirrups and I took pieces of adhesive tape and bound his feet to the brackets. Then I swung them apart, spreading his feet wide and giving me easier access to his ass. I unsnapped the belt holding his butt-plug in place and removed the strap and pulled out the plug. His pink rosebud snapped closed and pulsated as it searched for an object to fill it. I caressed it with a finger and watched it try to pull me in as Patrick whimpered. Then I pulled a leather strap across his torso, pinning him to the table. “Now I want you to watch me Patrick, so that you understand what I’m doing.” His eyes focused on me and he smiled, his pink lips curving beneath his reddish-blonde mustache, the skin around his ice-blue eyes wrinkling. “Am I helping you, sir? Am I helping you make me your slave?” “Yes indeed, boy. You’re doing a fine job.” “Thank you sir. I’m glad.” I took another strap and passed it over his hips and buckled it to hooks on either side of the table.

Once he was bound to the table, I took out a pair of cloverleaf tit-clamps joined by a chain. I gazed at his beautiful nipples, newly exposed. They were pink and round, as only a redhead’s can be. They were beginning to have points as a result of the workouts and suctioning they’d received during the last few days. I reached down and tweaked them into points then fastened the clamps on them. Patrick closed his eyes and moaned. “Open your eyes boy. I want you to watch me.” I ordered. His eyes flew open. “Yes sir. I’m sorry, sir,” and he watched my every move. I wrapped a nylon rope around his stiff rod and pulled it down from its position, pointing straight up at the ceiling, to his belly. Then I tied the cord to the chain joining the clamps. His tits were pulled toward his abdomen and his cock was pointing toward his chest. He groaned loudly from the pain, but his cock grew even more stiff and began to ooze pre-cum. I scooped up some of the clear fluid and painted his cock-head and tits with it. At that, he moaned and thrust his hips against the strap holding him down.

As I turned away and began to strip, Patrick’s eyes were fastened on me. I removed my shoes and socks and took off my pants, exposing my furry legs. Then I took off my lab coat and unbuttoned my shirt. I turned back toward him as I pulled my shirt apart, exposing my forested chest. Patrick’s eyes grew wide as he saw my firm chest, covered with dark brown hair and my large, dark nipples, thrusting through the fur like mountains rising above a forest. He followed the hair down my tight belly as it narrowed into a line before fanning out in my bush. When he got to my cock, his eyes reflected fear and desire. I’m about seven inches when soft, with a head that resembles a ripe plum. . My balls hang down as far as the corona of my cock head. Also, I keep my cock and balls shaved because I like the look and feel, so I look even larger. Patrick shifted his eyes back up to mine and back down to my groin as I advanced toward him. “Oh sir,” he whispered, “oh sir...”

“Did you clean yourself this morning after you shaved your butt?” “Yes sir. I did as you ordered and gave myself an enema.” I stroked the newly smooth skin under his arms and on his chest. I ran my hands down to his clean pubes and balls. Once again, I fingered his rosebud and watched it wink at me, as it tried to pull my finger inside. Fondling his nuts I looked into his blue eyes and said “You’re my best boy, Patrick. You’ve pleased me. I’m very happy with you. Now I want to fully own you. Do you want me to own you, Patrick?” “Please sir. I do want you to own me.” “Very good boy. Then I will own you. I’m going to take you as my slave. Now watch.” With that, I pulled out the KY and a condom. I lubed his ass and thrust two fingers inside. Already, after only a couple of days, he was more able to accommodate my penetration. When he seemed sufficiently relaxed, I rolled the rubber over my own erect dick and moved between his legs.

Patrick’s eyes were on my erect cock as it throbbed in anticipation. He licked his lips and his mouth fell open. His mouth began to fill with saliva and he swallowed hard. Pre-cum coated the inside of my safe, emphasizing the blood-dark color of my cock head. I looked down and saw Patrick’s hole pulsing, begging me to enter. I moved forward and placed the tip of my dick against his expanding flesh, feeling its soft firmness. I raised my eyes and looked into his. “Please sir. Please take me sir. Make me your boy. Please.” “Patrick”, I said, “Now you’re mine.” and pushed my knob through his sphincter. He grimaced as the pain hit him. “Push down,” I ordered. “Push down hard and open to me.” “Uuuhhhh. Yes sir. Uuuuhhhh.” And he pushed. I thrust my hips forward and slipped past the ring of muscles. I eased back a moment and then pushed all the way in. He gasped and opened his eyes, staring into mine. “Oh my god. Oh sir. Oh god... Thank you sir. Thank you.”

I grabbed his thighs and began to pump against his butt, my balls slapping against his ass cheeks. He was looking at me, wide-eyed with wonder at the sensations he was experiencing for the first time. “You are my boy. You belong to me now. Say it Patrick.” “I’m your boy. I belong to you sir. Thank you sir.” He repeated the mantra over and over as his breath and mine became more ragged. I seized his bound cock, pulling it up and stretching his clamped nipples downward. He groaned loudly and his cock throbbed in my hand. I knew I wouldn’t need to pump it; he would come just from my touch, but not until I permitted him. “Not yet, boy. You will come only when I tell you.” “Yes sir. Yes sir. Only when you tell me.” His chest was heaving and he was thrusting against the straps binding him to the table. He reached up to his own chest and pulled at the clamps on his tits, torturing himself in his lust. I was getting closer and thrusting faster and faster, my breath coming in jagged gasps. Patrick was getting close, grunting and groaning as we both approached the edge. “Please sir. Please. Let me come. Please sir.” My own hips spasmed as an electric charge shot through my body. “Now,” I shouted. “Come,” and gave an animal shout as the fire erupted from my groin. Patrick, likewise shouted and the cum spurted from his dick as I squeezed it, shooting over his chest and belly. His body shook as he gasped for air and his hands pulled on the clamps on his tortured nipples. “Aahh, ahh, ahh, oh god, oh, oh, oh god...” I collapsed onto Patrick’s torso, completely spent. We both gasped for breath and our hearts pounded in a syncopated rhythm.

When I’d caught my breath, I pushed myself up and looked into his gleaming blue eyes. He was staring into mine. I removed the clamps from his tits and massaged the cum on his chest into his skin. I took some on my fingers and rubbed it into his mustache. Then I held my fingers to his lips. He licked the salty bitterness off and sucked on my fingers like a baby, murmuring as he cleaned them. I pulled my fingers from his mouth and he continued murmuring “Thank you Master. Thank you sir. Thank you for taking me.” I looked down at him, stroking his face with my fingers. “You’re my boy now Patrick. You’re my slave. You’re mine. My good boy.” My new slave smiled up at me. “Yes sir. Thank you sir.”

“Now I’m going to put my seal of ownership on you. You will wear this at all times except when you’re having sex with your wife and when you’re working out. Do you understand, boy?” “Yes sir. What is it, sir?” At that, I pulled a wide chrome cock ring out of a drawer and held it up. Engraved on it were the words “Property of M.A. M.D.” “This says you belong to me, Mark Andrews.” Patrick’s eyes widened. “Yes sir,” he whispered. “Thank you, sir.” I slipped the ring over his cock , which was, by now, softening. Then, one at a time, I squeezed his smooth testicles through the ring. The first one wasn’t easy because it was so big. As I began to force the second through, he gasped and held his breath. Finally, it went through the ring. Patrick grunted as it squeezed through.

I cupped his captive cock and balls in my hand and squeezed them firmly. “That’s my boy. I’m proud. You’ve pleased me. Now you can get dressed and go to your office. But I want you to call me at noon.” As I was giving him his instructions, I was cutting his feet loose from the stirrups and unhooking the straps across his hips and torso. “Yes sir. I’ll phone at noon. Thank you sir.” I pushed his feet up toward his head and soundly slapped his butt. “Oww”, he cried. “No! That’s not what you say! You say ‘One sir. Thank you sir.’ Now again!” And I slapped his cheek again, leaving a red hand-print on his creamy white flesh. “One sir. Thank you sir.” “That’s better. Now get going!”

We both dressed, but I noticed his eyes were on me most of the time. When I’d finished dressing, I went to the door. With my hand on the knob, I turned and faced him. “What are you to remember, boy?” “I must call you at noon, sir.” “Good boy. Now run along.” “Sir?” I looked into his shining ice-blue eyes. “Yes boy?” “Thank you sir,” he whispered. He beamed with pleasure when I smiled at him. Then I turned and walked out the door.

To be continued.