The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The tires of the Boxster screeched as I flung the motor from corner to corner leaving a trail of burnt rubber in my wake. What a fucking turn on, putting Eric under and turning him from wrestling jock farm boy into a now anonymous rubber object. Fucking turn on my trousers pushed tight as I hit Main Street at 120, wrapping my fingers against the dash, the cops at their usual place. The lights and sirens kick in and die as quick, as they recognise the motor.

With the fun of the police gone I slow right down not wanting to beat my new prize back to Richards studio. The van was parked up by the time I arrived. And its dark, no fucking street lights here, but that I suppose was the point of having the studio, dark and private. But what a shit hole, a big shitty pile of old colonial timber that should have been torn down years ago. The house was silent, silent and dark, not knowing where the light switch is I click my lighter open and hold the small bare flame above my head. Shadows racing through the hall, a little spooky there used to be other tenants here, some old witch on the first floor, dead a year back and of course Ben, a statue threes years back. Now only Richard the Master Tist, motivational therapist, motivating young men to become living statues and others things for the pleasure of my father and his friends and of course most important of all, my personnel amusement. I take the stairs to the second floor two at a time the light bouncing round me,

- O fuck! -

Shit my heart almost stops as I run into David standing dead silent at the top of stairs still carrying the limp rubberized form of Eric draped over his shoulder.

- Shit man you made me jump—

- If you would follow me sir the Master is expecting you -

He turned and led me through the open door into the main studio. It was the darkest I had ever seen the place. Only a few lamps surrounded the workbench where David carefully laid Erics limp rubber form. A chair was set-up on the far side hidden in the shadows perfectly placed for me to enjoy the scene. Beside it, on a table a pile of rubber catching the light. Curious I pick it up, a complete body suit unfolds from my hands, translucent charcoal, only the head would be uncovered, and my hand all but clearly visible through its smooth skin, really thin and I wonder.

- Would you like to try it on Wesley? -

The rich deep voice of Richard from behind me.

I turn to face him letting the suit slide to the floor

- No, its .. what slaves wear -

But hes already busy running his hands along the length of Captive Erics smooth muscular rubber.

- Very good very good—he says with each stroke.

I’ aware of David moving behind me carefully picking up the bodysuit from the floor where I had left it.

- And you went the through the induction as you where told to -

- Yes..—

- And a small amount of alcohol -

- Yes a mouthful and. -

- Take a seat my boy you said you wanted to see the process from beginning to end -

I sat in the chair a feeling little uncomfortable aware of David standing silent behind me.

- Dont smoke here -

Hes ahead of me, my hand just beginning to fidget towards my pocket. Normally I would have lit up just to piss someone off by now but something in his face made me stop and satisfied he returned to his attention to Eric.

CHAP 7 ALTERNATIVE TRANSFORM ERIC

NOTES

I could feel my cock rising painfully just looking at Eric laid out on the bench. His cock still hard rising from his smooth balls, shaven this morning no doubt, one of Erics many new compunctions. Richard runs his hand along the length of Erics cock before following the line of Erics naked torso, slow hands covering every muscle until satisfied.

- Good boy you’ve kept yourself nice and smooth -

He stops, and slowly unpeels the ridged rubber edges that keep the open face of the hood in shape. Slowly gently he lifts Erics head before peeling back the hood to reveal Erics straw blond hair.

- This will have to go boy -

He reaches into the darkness by the side of the bench. I hear the buzz of the shears before I see them. I find my hands in my pockets beating my cock slowly, this is fucking great as the shears begin their work stripping the hair away, back to the scalp.

- Thank you David -

I’m only aware that David has moved from behind when he appears in the light by the side of the bench, a steaming bowel of water in one hand and a razor in the other which he hands to his master. With slow deliberate patience Erics head is shaved back until only a smooth scalp remains. I can definitely get into this smooth look for my toys. Quietly and efficiently David cleans up the shaving gear and vanishes back into the shadows. Meanwhile I have the brief glimpse of Erics shaven skull cradled in the Tists hands until he draws the hood back over Erics head. Careful to keep the broad T of the face opening symmetric about his face before smoothing out and admiring the now perfect silver pewter curve of Erics head.

- If Sir would allow me to take care of that -

I had not heard David return, the voice quiet, behind, kneeling behind me. His hands reaching around undoing my jacket, gently removing it and then returns button by button as my dress shirt is removed. All the while I’m slowly beating myself off as Richard runs his hands over Erics rubberized form.

- If you excuse me sir -

Davids hands ease mine to one side before undoing my belt and reaching under me he lifts me easily to ease my trousers down to my ankles. Without realizing quite what I’ve done I bend forward to remove my socks and shoes before shaking my legs free of the trousers. I sit back still too absorbed in the sight of Richards large hands working over Erics inert form to wonder how I became naked. Davids massive arm comes around at my waist trapping my arms as I find my self pinned to the chair.

- I am sorry Sir but the Master insists that you must remain silent -

- Wait .. I..— as Davids other hand clamped over my mouth holding it closed my breath whistling through my nose. My trapped hands flap futile unable to reach my still hard member.

- Run program Eric—Richards voice takes me back into the scene.

[LOADING PROGRAM ERIC]

Erics voice, cold, mechanical and

[FIRST RUN INITIATED]

very sexy.

- The club, Wesley, where the fuck am I—Erics everyday voice confused but still his voice. His rubber hands running down his chest and the he sits upright still slow, still groggy, his eyes peering into the darkness of the room straight towards me I stiffen up wondering if he can see me.

- Any one there?—

He turns full towards me legs over the side of the bench.

- How the hell did get here into this?—

His rubber hands absent mindedly playing with his still exposed member which remains stubbornly erect.

- Welcome back boy—as Richard steps around from behind him into the light.

- Coach Germaine! What are you doing here Sir, what’s going on I was with Wesley and now I’m .... -

- Its OK Eric—He sits next to him on the bench putting his arm around his shoulder to give him support like a father with a son. His free hand slowly rubs itself along the inside of Erics rubber coated thighs.

- It’s going to be OK Eric -

His hands run to play with Erics hard little nipples.

- You like to wear rubber don’t you-

- Yes Sir—his voice weak distant

- Look down Eric your going to wear this rubber for the rest of your.. existence-

I can see his eyes widen.

- But why me Sir?—

Richard pulls him closer until their heads touch Richard whispering into his ear.

- Because your young and handsome and athletic and desired and your in the right or perhaps the wrong place -

- ..what’s going to happen to me Sir -

- Your going to be a rubber object soon -

Their faces almost touching like lovers.

- But you know this already what are you? -

- I don’t understand Sir? -

- What are you boy? -

—I ... I am a Table SIR -

His eyes look down along the length of his body in amazement unsure what he’s just said.

- What are you ? -

- A Table Sir! -

- What do you want -

- I want to be a Table Sir! -

- Whose table are you? -

- Masters table. Masters coffee table Sir! -

- Good boy, very good boy -

Richard stands up a remote in his hand.

- Look -

A spotlight comes on shining from glass, clear hard rubber hanging above an empty circular posing platform a flat disc of polished imbedded with the clear rubber torso of a jock and a smooth transparent face plate made to measure for Eric .

- Well Eric what do you want? -

- I want to.... -

I can see the desire pulsing across his face as he tries to fight his fate.

- I want to.... be a .. table sir ...—

- No Eric -

- You have to want it Boy -

And then I can see the doubt vanishes as he looks up straight into Richards eyes.

- Please Sir, I want to be a rubber object, I want to be your table Sir, I want, I want to be erased sir -

He blinks surprised the second time at what he’s just said.

- Very well Eric -

- Initialize Unit Eric -

Eric stands up stiff graceful.

[UNIT ERIC INITIALIZED]

His voice machine like.

[PRIMARY PROGRAM]

His face a blank.

[OBEY AND LOVE MASTER]

This is so fucking hot I could cum now.

[SECONDARY PROGRAM NOW RUNNING]

He walks slowly to the platform smoothly stepping up onto before kneeling down. His he kneels down write on his haunches his legs pinned back his bubble butt supported by his calves and still he bend calves until feet go to point pinned beneath the small of his back. The elbows supporting the body as his hands make contact with the feet. His cock strains upward from the now horizontal torso, his head faces forward straining to meet it. A motor whirls and the glass of the table descends slowly guided by Richard for the last few feet and then with hiss it seals. Eric chest moulded into the surface of clear rubber his cock and balls forever erect in their table sheath and last the face plate mates and I see Erics cheeks swell as his mouth accepts his masters gag. A tremor runs through him as he cums again and again, the white fluid running back down a channel of the sheath before running through a clear tube along the line of his torso, through the table top and straight into his hungry mouth.

- This is so fucking to my self—I whisper.

Only aware that David has released me when I see him starting to polish my new table, all that remains of poor farm boy Eric the light glistening from his perfect form in its new prison. Then I’m aware of Richards deep voice close to me he’s not finished with Eric yet.

- Thats it boy -

His hands run down.

- Take it easy-

Each arm

- Take it -

Straighten

- Easy -

Stiff

- Slow-

Support

- A good boy -

Head pushed up

- A rubber boy -

Feel the rubber.

- Masters Rubber boy -

Rubber body suit.

- Smooth -

Legs out straight.

- Feel the oil -

- On your skin -

- Body so tight so good-

- Smooth -

Feet point forward.

- Good boy -

Rubber slips on.

- Masters good boy -

And tighter.

- Masters very good boy -

So tight.

- Masters drone boy -

So hard to think.

- Masters sexy boy -

So tight.

- Feel it -

Each muscle.

- Feel it slide on -

Covered tight.

- Masters rubber boy

Locked in place

- Only Masters voice -

Headphones on.

- Sexy boy-

Boy.

- Sexy rubber boy -

Rubber Boy.

- Sexy rubber drone -

Rubber Drone

- Masters sexy drone -

Sexy drone

- Masters sexy drone unit -

Sexy drone Unit.

- Masters sex drone unit -

Sex drone unit.

- Unit2 -

Unit 2

- Only unit2 -

Only unit 2

- the boy folding , folding smaller -

Closing

- only a program -

Closing

- an obedient program -

Closing secondary program.

-running-

Unit2

- as master wishes -

Unit2

-run -

<Primary program running>

I blink once and twice aware that I’m now standing with David behind me gently kneading my shoulders, the first faint daylight coming in through the rooms few high windows. A wooden crate stands where Eric was last night.

- What do you feel Wesley?—he asks me.

- I feel great Sir -

I drove home with the car covered, surprised by how cold the morning was. The sun was rising as I drove into the carport. A quick ride up my personnel elevator and I was back in the apartment.

- Fuck I’m tired -

But Ben and Toni don’t answer.

I flop onto the couch by Ben. I’m forgetting something, Toni’s not there.

Fucking Miles.

He’s still here his eyes grow wide as I walk into the bedroom. That’s got to hurt, he’s still strapped to Toni’s statue, still where I left him last night the stupid fucker. He tries to whimper, best he can do through the gag as I bend over to unstrap him, red raw welts where each strap peels off. And he’s still staring at me wide eyed checking me over. I flop on the Bed as he stumbles to his feet, stiff and awkward and pathetic. But his eyes are still locked onto my body and I can’t be bothered with him this morning.

- Take your clothes and fuck off Miles -

And he’s gone.

I hear the lift going down.

And I lie back and relax with my new headphones on.