The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Scott drove home on autopilot, overwhelmed with racing thoughts and conflicting emotions. He was scared — he was a straight, married man with a gorgeous wife. At least he had been, only a few hours earlier. Now that had all changed. It shouldn’t have changed.

He was worried — how would he hide this from Amy? From anyone? Deep inside, in the same place in his mind that understood his old life was now over forever, he felt wild urges simmering. He didn’t want to hide it, he realized with a shiver. He wanted everyone to know what he’d done at 1501 Longwood, what had happened to him, to smell that odd, sweet, animal smell that had opened up his mind and let the home’s owners fundamentally rewrite him. He wanted everybody to know it was going to happen to them too. And when those urges boiled up the surface, they would.

More than anything else, though, Scott was stupidly horny. Despite ejaculating in his pants for the second time in an hour right before driving away from William and Darla’s home, his cock was painfully stiff once more. His hard penis felt hot and nasty in his soggy briefs, covered in the slick, warm aftermath of his recent climax. He could tell he was leaking copious amounts of pre-come again, and snickered involuntarily at the thought — this was the new Scott. He could live another forty or fifty years and his cock and bizarre sexual needs would be at the center of his attention every minute of that time.

All because of…

“Huuuumpiiiiiessss.” The word came out in a hiss. Just thinking it made his dick throb. Saying it out loud was like pure hellish heaven — the sensation that surged through him was like his entire body had been transformed into a man-size erection, and a giant, inhuman hand was stroking him from base to tip. He whispered the word several more times, reveling in the sense that he was being masturbated, was not a person but had become a set of genitals. Scott shuddered and slowed down to avoid veering into another lane. He gasped, overcome with a vision: naked, strapped down on the older couple’s dining room table, his penis purple and pulsing and drooling, while an assortment of men — dozens of them — spit on him again and again, until saliva oozed off of every inch of skin.

William’s face flashed into his mind. “Do you want this or your wife?” the old man asked, smiling.

It wasn’t even a question. Amy had been displaced, forever. Scott wheezed and pumped another load into his underpants at the thought.

Arriving at home was like returning to a place he hadn’t visited in decades. He pulled into the garage, slipped into the house quietly, and hurried downstairs to the laundry room, heart pounding.

“Is that you?” Amy called from upstairs.

Scott muffled an insane giggle. No. Not anymore, he thought with a kind of horrified glee.

“Uh, yes! I’m just throwing some laundry in!” he yelled back.

He heard her come to the top of the basement stairs. “Where were you? The kids were here, but they took off again already.”

An old man and woman showed me perfect sex and I’ll never be in your vagina again, he almost responded. Instead, he choked out, “I’m so sorry! This guy was showing me his, uh, his music collection and I just totally lost track of time.”

It was a measure of the strength of Scott and Amy’s marriage that she didn’t question the story at all. “It’s not a big deal,” she said with a sigh. “Just would have been nice to get a text. I’m going to go to bed.”

He could tell that their earlier lovemaking plans were on her mind, and that she was disappointed. He laughed again — a sharp, disturbing bark of a laugh brought on by the absurdity of it all. She was disappointed. Imagine how disappointed she would be if she knew what had really happened. If she knew their marriage and her sex life were about to be reshaped, permanently, in inconceivable ways.

“OK,” he replied, regaining control of himself. “I’m going to be up in a bit.” Amy walked away.

Scott stripped down and tossed his clothes into the washer. He paused as his pulled off his briefs. They were dripping with bodily fluids — his own and Darla’s and William’s — and the evidence of his last two orgasms was clear. They smelled unspeakable.

He brought them close to his face.

His cock stood at attention, red and twitching.

He leaned in and took a deep, long whiff of his own underwear.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh.” The nasty sensation that coursed through him felt incredible. His dick spasmed even more. He was tired, but he recognized that he would not sleep for some time yet tonight.

He tossed the briefs into the washer and started the machine. Naked, he waddled out to the TV room, where he grabbed the remote and threw himself face down on the couch.

He couldn’t tell if he discovered some sick new porn channel, or if he was watching regular porn but finally seeing it for what it truly was — or if he was just watching regular television programs, and his reprogrammed brain was warping his perception, showing him things no well-adjusted person would be interested in, much less aroused by. All he knew was that it felt so good to watch, and think naughty thoughts, and slide his hard penis all over the fabric of the cushion beneath him. Humpy, humpy, he thought, edging himself on the sofa, feeling the pre-come leak out of his dick slit. It went on for hours. He bit down on a pillow and moaned into it. It wasn’t real humpies, of course, but even this, even the couch, was better than sex with Amy now.

Scott woke up surprisingly refreshed. For half an instant, it felt like a normal day.

Then he realized he was nude, on the basement couch, his cock hot and stiff beneath him — and everything came rushing back.

The part of his conscious mind that still cared about his previous life fled, shuttering itself away before it could be totally overwhelmed by the onslaught of freakish erotic imagery that followed. He wondered where his phone was. He usually looked at the day’s news as soon as he got up.

But not today. He felt eager, even as he knew it was wrong. He wanted to take pictures of his hard penis, and to send them to people. To people he knew.

He remembered the photos that William had taken, the video William had made. He wanted to share those too. To let everybody know what had happened to him.

He stumbled up the stairs to the kitchen. Amy had left a note on the counter:

Meeting Betsy for brunch and then shopping. Home later. Hope you put some clothes on. How much did you drink last night???

She had no idea, he thought as he hunted for his phone. After several minutes, frustration mounting, he realized he must have left it in the SUV. Yes — he’d dropped it after William had handed it to him, letting it fall to the floor of the vehicle. The vehicle Amy had taken.

He felt a rush of anger, directed at her. She had ruined the fun he had planned. Bitch.

The pang of his full bladder shook him out of it, and then a wicked idea occurred to him. There was a half-empty pitcher of iced tea in the fridge — Amy drank from it every day during the summer. What a hot, salty treat he could leave her. What a great way for him to be intimate with her now.

Frankly, when he thought about it, he couldn’t believe they’d been married so long and she’d never tasted his piss. He snickered again. Bitch.

He opened the fridge and reached for the pitcher, suddenly more turned on than he’d ever been by actual sex with his wife. His fingers were just closing around the handle when the doorbell rang.

Scott closed the fridge and walked to the front door, glancing out the tall window on the side. His neighbor Jason was on the stoop, with a bag of golf clubs.

Scott cracked the door open. “Hey, man.”

“Hey, buddy!” Jason said. His eyes widened. “You naked there?”

Scott looked down. He had mostly forgotten. Most of his body was hidden behind the door, so Jason couldn’t see his stingingly hot erection.

“Oh shit, sorry.” It felt like another personality, a temporary one, had leapt into the driver’s seat of his brain. It was like his old self, except that it wasn’t real — it was just for people who weren’t ready for the new version of Scott. Just until they could be made ready. “I just woke up — big night last night.”

“I bet.” Jason looked amused. “Well, if you wanna get dressed, I saw Amy head out and thought maybe you wanted to come check out that new course in Westville.”

“Oh yeah.” They’d talked about it a few days earlier. Something inside Scott told him that this outing would be…fun. The right kind of fun. The wrong kind of fun.

“Hang on,” he told Jason. “Let me get dressed and grab my clubs. I’ll be right out.”

Something had changed in the first ten minutes of the drive. Here in the car, with his friend, making idle chit-chat on a perfectly normal Sunday trip to the golf course, Scott realized he felt almost like himself again. When he started to think about the events of the previous day, a wave of burning shame washed over him. Holy shit. What had he done? Maybe it was wearing off after all. Maybe he could forget about it all forever.

And then.

“Sooo, what kind of big night did you have?” Jason asked, pulling onto the freeway.

Scott mustered a smile and laughed uncomfortably. “Just met a friend for some drinks and had a couple more than I should have.” He grinned. “And then partied a little more with Amy when I got home.” Saying that made him feel better, as if it had truly happened.

Jason chuckled too. “Nice.” He shook his head. “I gotta say, man, I hope it doesn’t come across as disrespectful, but your wife is a very sexy woman.”

Hearing that gave Scott a warm feeling — a nice feeling, he thought, at first. But instead of rising up the pleasant way it normally did when he received a compliment, the warmth lingered in his midsection, and then settled in lower, almost seeping strangely into his crotch.

“Hunh.” The sound that came out of Scott wasn’t quite a laugh. But the manic expression that was appearing on his face wasn’t quite a smile anymore either.

Jason glanced over at him. “That OK? That I said that?”

Scott nodded, still smiling weirdly, eyes unfocused. “Sexy is…sexy.”

“Yeah.” Jason’s expression hovered somewhere between concerned and confused. “Yeah, she’s…”

A smell had begun to permeate the air in the car. Sweet. Meaty. Animal. Scott recognized it, feeling a burst of joy. The warmth swirled around his hips and genitals; he felt it itching at his asshole.

Oh God. Pure terror broke through the erotic sensation as the normal part of Scott — Leftover Scott, he named it in his mind — realized nothing had changed.

He tried to calm himself, to slow his breathing down, to ignore the heat building in his pants.

He looked at Jason. The other man looked more confused than concerned now. His nose crinkled. He could smell it, Scott knew.

As if to confirm it, the bulge in Jason’s jeans visibly expanded. “Oh!” Jason gasped, crumpling against the steering wheel and panting while Scott watched in fear. Jason barely recovered in time to make the exit to the golf course.

For the next minute, silence reigned in the car. But Scott could tell that Jason wanted to say something. The other man kept opening his mouth and then closing it again.

Finally he spoke. The words came out in a harsh rasp: “Wanna squirt my cream in her face.”

Something like arousal, but not quite, pulsated through Scott. It took him a moment to understand that hearing his neighbor say something like that would have turned him on once. Back when the thought of men creaming all over the face of a beautiful woman like his wife would have interested him. Yesterday morning I would have liked that, he noted faintly.

But now Scott’s tastes had changed. That was OK. His cock felt hard as he watched Jason succumb to the rich, musky stench filling the small space. The man’s nostrils were flaring, and he kept bucking his hips against his seat belt, like he wanted to grind his crotch against something hard.

“Humpies,” Scott whispered as Jason swung the car into a space in the golf course parking lot.

“What?” Jason seemed to come to. He looked frightened. But Scott had seen something ripple through him at the sound of the word.

Jason opened his door. Fresh air flooded in, and Scott’s mind started to clear again. The two men stared at each other, bewilderment on their faces. Something was happening, but they didn’t know what. They didn’t know what to do.

“Come on,” Jason said without enthusiasm. “Let’s hit the course.”

Scott’s mind was no longer so hazy, and the unsettling warmth in his lower body seemed to have subsided. But the old, still-normal part of him — Leftover Scott, he thought again darkly — remained vigilant. He hoped that at least while he and Jason remained outside, they’d be safe from the effects of whatever William and Darla had done to him.

They paid the course fee. “And we actually have another pair who are just about to tee off,” the girl at the course said as she ran their cards. “Would you gentlemen mind making it a foursome?”

“Sure, that’s fine,” Jason said, before Scott could speak up. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Somehow, Scott knew what was happening before he even saw the two men the girl was pointing to.

They were older, probably in their sixties. One was shorter than Scott or Jason, but looked trim and well-built.

The other man was tall and solid. He smiled as Scott dazedly followed Jason out of the pro shop. “Hello, Scott.”

“Hello,” Scott said in a small voice. Was this really happening? How was this not a bad dream? “Hello, William.”

The older man looked almost smug.

“You know each other?” Jason asked.

William nodded confidently. “Scott and I are very close,” he said. He gestured to the other man. “And this is my friend Dale.”

Jason introduced himself. Numbly, Scott shook Dale’s hand.

“We’re gonna have such a nice time today, Scott,” the smaller, fit man said with a leer.

To Scott’s relief, everything seemed fine for the first few holes. William and Dale chatted amiably with Jason while Scott trailed behind. “He had kind of a big night last night,” Jason told the older men with a wink.

“I bet he did,” Dale chuckled. William nodded with satisfaction.

Somewhere on the seventh hole, or maybe the eighth, Scott abruptly realized he’d been zoning out. His head felt muddy. He looked up and saw that Jason was shuffling forward, eyes glazed, pinned between Dale and William.

Jason’s pants were starting to tent. A small dark spot was spreading on the front of his jeans.

Unnfh. Watching his neighbor fall victim to the man who had changed him sent a thrill through Scott. He shouldn’t want this, he knew. Like him, Jason was married. A normal, perfectly happy, heterosexual man.

The warmth started curling around Scott’s nether regions again. His own dick got hard and hot in his khaki shorts.

“Scott!” William called back to him. “Why don’t you come up here and walk with us?”

That sounded like a fantastic idea. Leftover Scott briefly attempted to keep his legs from moving forward, but the new version of him remembered that William was the most important person in Scott’s life. Scott didn’t matter to William, and that was OK. William was still his crush, his dream lover, the most terrific man in the world, with every right to destroy Scott’s life, or anybody else’s, at his whim. A throb of pure pleasure traveled through his cock, and suddenly even Leftover Scott wished he could fall to his knees and take the older man’s member in his mouth.

Instead, he scooted up and squeezed in between Jason and Dale. The smell — the rich, animal smell — was strong and evident here, even in the open air.

“I like…” Jason was struggling to articulate the words. “I…like…sexy…sexy things.”

“Yes.” William beamed like a proud father. “Homosexual things.”

“No.” Jason shook his head as if to clear it. He looked annoyed, like he was trying to focus. “No. Like — like big fat tits.”

“Big man tits,” William said. “Hairy man breasts on fat daddies with big nipples to suck on.”

“Unngh.” Jason stumbled, his hard-on interfering even further with his already compromised ability to walk. “No…” He gritted his teeth. “Pussy. Hot pussy.”

Dale nodded cheerfully. “Hot tranny ass-pussy. Hot tranny ass-cunt to bury your face in before you eat a fat load of jizz.”

“Aaauugh!” Jason actually fell over. The crotch of his jeans tented out obscenely as he tried to get back on his feet and collapsed again. Dale reached over and squeezed Jason’s bulge.

Jason moaned, loudly enough that Scott looked around to see if anyone had heard them. But no other players were in sight.

He caught Jason’s gaze, which was filled with fear. “What — what the fuck is happening, man?” his neighbor pleaded.

Scott noticed that his own shorts were tented as well, and along with being wrapped in warmth below, there was the now-familiar sensation that his penis was leaking pre-come.

“Show him, Scott.” William’s tone was friendly. Underneath it, Scott could sense pure hate — a thing, some kind of life-form that fed on inflicting abuse and humiliation. Oh, why was it so fucking hot to give in?

A vision: Peeling his clothes off at William’s gentle command. Toddling across the course naked toward the water hazard a few hundred yards away, his stiff erection leading the way. Squeezing his bladder muscles and forcing piss out as he waddled toward the pond, so that anyone observing could see the golden droplets spraying all over his own body. Jumping into the water, ready to “Stay down there for ten minutes” just because William had told him to.

“What are you going to show me?” Jason asked. He looked so lost.

Scott just wanted to help.

He straddled Jason and started to grind his own hard-on against the bulge in his neighbor’s jeans. The bulge stiffened even more. Jason inhaled sharply.

“It’s OK,” Scott told him. “You’ll understand.” He rubbed harder against the other man. Up and down on him. Jason’s, unable to resist, ground back against Scott.

Scott leaned down and put his mouth near his neighbor’s ear. He gently nibbled on the lobe. “It’s humpies,” he whispered.

“Oooooooohhhh.” Jason sounded deranged, like a wounded animal. He pushed his crotch hard back against Scott.

Scott looked up. William and Dale had their phones out. They were clearly recording a video of Scott and Jason.

“Scott,” William said. The older man was looking up. In the distance, another group was headed toward them. “Bring Jason over now. Make the old Jason go away.”

A look of unadulterated panic spread across Jason’s face. “What are you going to do to me?” he whined.

From inside, Leftover Scott could see what was happening. But he didn’t care. He was so tired. And he wasn’t normal anymore. Even Leftover Scott was imagining men using him for sex. It was just who he was now.

“We should kiss,” Scott answered. “We should kiss so much.”

Jason looked disgusted, but when Scott lowered his head and put his lips to the other man’s, they parted easily, letting his tongue in without hesitation.

Scott had never kissed another man. Had certainly never aggressively swapped spit and intertwined tongues with another man for a minute solid. He didn’t understand why. Men were so firm — so forceful, even when they were being gentle. He regretted every kiss he’d ever shared with his wife and ground his crotch hard against Jason’s, never wanting to stop.

Jason tensed up underneath and let out a series of short, quick breaths. Scott realized his neighbor was coming in his pants.

“Let’s get up now.” William and Dale pulled the two younger men to their feet. Scott’s wet spot was small but noticeable on his light shorts, especially because his erection still poked out. Jason had a dark splotch on the front of his jeans. He looked consumed with shame.

“What’s happening?” Jason asked again. “Why are you changing me?”

“You’ll see,” William said, leading him toward a golf cart pulling up nearby. Dale had called for it. “Scott didn’t get it quite right. He can’t.”

Something died inside Scott when he heard that. He had just wanted to show Jason about humpies.

“You and Scott are little-penis men,” William continued, helping Jason onto the golf cart. The young man driving the cart didn’t even appear to notice them. “No matter what the size, that’s what you are. You need a big-penis man for real man-to-man humpies.”

Without even asking, Scott knew that Dale was a big-penis man like William.

The cart bumped along back to the clubhouse. William leaned over and whispered in the driver’s ear before hopping off to join the other three. The driver smiled like he’d been given a million dollars and then drove away.

“Just a tip” was all the tall older man said by way of explanation. He led them out to the parking lot, where Dale pulled out a key fob and popped the trunk of an expensive sedan.

“Put your golf clubs in here,” William said. Scott and Jason complied silently, dumping their golf bags in the trunk.

“Those are expensive,” Jason muttered. “What are you going to do with them?”

Dale shrugged. “Sell them? Give them to my friends? Throw them away? You can’t have them.”

“Why not.” Jason sounded petulant, but his voice was flat and empty.

The small older man chuckled. “Because nothing about you matters.”

That’s true, Scott silently agreed. But Jason protested further.

“I — I think I might matter?” he said. It sounded like a question. A stupid question.

A frightening expression flashed ever so briefly across Dale’s face. “You’re walking around with your pants full of come,” he snarled.

“I know,” Jason agreed meekly.

Dale spun around to face the younger men. He looked irritated. “Tell me about your wives.”

Anxiety rose up in Scott as he realized he couldn’t recall his wife’s name. Or what she looked like. Instead, every time he tried to remember her, his mind was filled with images of naked men. Older, younger, hairy, smooth, fat, slender, with thick uncircumcised cocks and small cut ones. It was as if someone had pasted gay pornographic photographs directly over every memory of the woman he’d married.

He shrugged. Jason did the same.

“That’s what I thought,” Dale snapped. “Throw your wedding rings in the fucking trash.”

Without protest, the younger men removed their wedding bands and unceremoniously dropped them into the trash can outside the clubhouse doors.

Dale looked pleased. “That was the right thing to do.” He moved closer to them and lowered his voice. “Never married again — to anybody. Never love. Promiscuous. Compulsive. Disgusting.”

Scott and Jason nodded stiffly. Their erections were once again in full force.

“Let’s get going,” William said. Dale nodded, and the younger men followed the older ones through the clubhouse and then a maze of hallways into a small locker room.

“No one should disturb us here,” William said, locking the door. He approached Jason and touched the side of his face. “Now I’ll show you.”

Scott felt like a kicked dog. He suddenly became conscious of the fact that William’s long, fat cock had been on his mind all day. Deep inside, he’d known he wouldn’t get to put his mouth on it — that wasn’t what William wanted — but he’d been hoping he could swallow another of the powerful older man’s fat, creamy loads.

But then he felt Dale grind against him and push him down on one of the wooden benches between the lockers. Something wrong and wonderful crested through Scott’s body. Dale will make it nasty, he thought with pleasure.

He did. Fully clothed, Dale pressed his bulge against Scott’s — and then slowly, ever so slowly, began to slither up and down the younger man’s body.

Scott felt like a giant penis again. It was like the pleasure in his erection was magnified across his entire body. He squirmed and humped back, desperate for everything he could get.

Dale babbled and muttered, eyes rolling back in his head. He ground his groin against Scott’s face, inundating the younger man’s senses with an indescribable, unholy, but inarguably sexual stench. Scott imagined he was a giant penis entering a tight, hot asshole.

“I want this all the time,” Scott whimpered. He already knew that compulsive masturbation would be a major component of his new life. That he would pursue the delicious charge that came from acting out in front of friends, acquaintances, and strangers. He pictured himself in a tiny, run-down apartment, life in shambles, obsessively scrolling through photos of men looking for sex.

“But the worst part is” — Dale was looking at him now, still rubbing his body against Scott’s — “that’s all true, and it will still never feed your need.” He grinned a giant, evil grin.

Scott tried to shrink away but couldn’t help himself — he pushed his body up and back against the smaller man, undeniably eager for more.

“You need humpies.” Dale smirked. As he said the word, he rubbed his crotch with extra vigor against Scott’s. Scott yelped in pure need. “Humpies. Humpies. Humpies.” Each time Dale said it, he punctuated it with a fierce grind.

Behind Dale, Scott could make out William, who had Jason pressed up against the lockers. The older man’s face was red and his tongue was lolling out as he pressed his clothed erection against Scott’s hapless neighbor. For his part, Jason looked wild-eyed and utterly mindless with desire.

“I think we should give it all to Jason,” William hissed, grimacing. “He’s already got a load in his stupid pants.”

Dale nodded and got off of Scott. He moved toward the other two men. Scott got to his feet and followed.

“Humpies, Jason,” William said, breath quick. He reached down and unzipped the fly of Jason’s jeans, and then his own. “Humpies now, and humpies forever. Are you ready?”

Jason looked terrified. He nodded.

William fished his large cock out — he had to press it down to keep it from slapping up against his shirt bottom. With care and precision, he opened Jason’s fly and guided the head in. “Say please,” he ordered.

“Please,” Jason replied without hesitation. “Please, please, William. Please.”

“Aaauuuggh-AAAHHHH!” William bucked and shook. Scott could see that his cock was spurting — blowing its load right into Jason’s underpants, coating the younger man’s stiff penis with semen.

When William’s orgasm had subsided, he stepped out of the way and gestured for Dale to take his place. Dale wore an expression of pure evil delight. He pulled out his cock — oh fuck, it was big like William’s, Scott noted — and slipped it in through Jason’s fly as well.

“You’re very lucky,” Dale said to Jason. Jason nodded emptily. “Tell me thank you for making you like this forever and ever.”

“Thank you?” Jason squeaked.

With a loud grunt, Dale let loose, orgasm wracking his body. His sperm drenched the inside of Jason’s underpants. Dale remained in that position, convulsing sporadically, for what felt like five minutes. Scott couldn’t believe any man could shoot so much. But when the shorter man pulled away, Scott could see that the jizz was now soaking through Jason’s jeans from the inside.

“Now you, Scott,” Dale ordered. Scott glanced at William, who nodded.

Scott stepped into position in front of Jason, whose erection was visibly pulsing in his wet, sticky jeans. He unzipped the fly of his khaki shorts and took out his own unspeakably hard penis. He looked Jason in the eye.

“Why is this happening?” Jason mewled, desperation in his eyes. The rich, animal scent was all around them again.

Scott could only shake his head. “Do you want it to stop?” he asked his neighbor.

Jason began to nod — but then it was as if he were seized by something, as if some dark and brazen and foul personality from deep within were asserting itself. An insane smile broke out on his face. His eyes glittered. “No,” he whispered. “It shouldn’t ever stop.” He pulled Scott’s face to his and kissed him hard, burying his tongue in Scott’s mouth.

“MmmpphpphHHHHHH!” Scott lost control, climaxing before he could get his cock into Jason’s fly. His come flew everywhere — all over Jason’s jeans and shirt, all over Scott’s own body, all over the lockers and floor. When it finally stopped, he nearly keeled over.

As he righted himself, Dale shoved him forward hard, against Jason’s body. Some of the come in Jason’s pants squelched out, getting both men even messier. Dale sniggered.

The younger men pulled apart, looking down at themselves and then at William and Dale. The older men looked perfectly composed. Their clothes were clean. There was no indication they’d been up to anything untoward or unusual.

“What now?” Scott stammered.

“Now Dale and I will leave,” William said. His tone was calm but firm. You two will wait three minutes — long enough so that we aren’t seen with you, but not so long that any of that will dry.” He waved a hand at the sticky mess all over their fronts. “You should find a motel nearby. Someplace cheap, and sleazy. Practice your mouth humpies for a while. A good long while.”

“Mouth humpies?” Jason asked.

“You’ll know,” Dale sneered.

William continued. “Now when you leave, you’ll hold hands. Don’t try to hide anything. You’ll get big erections in your pants — well, as big as little-penis men can get,” he added as Dale chuckled. “It will be exciting to show off to all of these fine, respectable people, won’t it?”

Scott nodded. It would be.

“But we won’t ever be able to come back,” Jason said in disbelief.

William shrugged. Dale rolled his eyes. “You don’t have golf clubs anymore anyway.”

They left. Scott and Jason waited, watching the clock for three minutes to pass. They reached out and took each other’s hand.