The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

My eyes were still stinging, I wasn’t going to cry, I wasn’t! That would have just confirmed Gareth’s opinion that I was just pathetic homosexual scum.

I shouldn’t be letting him get to me like this, he doesn’t understand, and still I do forgive him for every hurtful word. What I don’t get is that I have the mental discipline to resist the most extreme tortures and yet one cruel word from the heterosexual hunk and I’m reduced to emotional jello.

Having a broken heart just isn’t useful either tactically or strategically. The only solution is the one I’ve deliberately avoided using for over a decade. It’s a fool’s risk but as Shakespeare says ‘Love makes fools of us all’.

Somewhere in South East England...

I rolled the skateboard to a stop, flipping it up and catching it with practiced ease. This was it, this was the point of maximum risk.

Quickly I glanced around taking in the overgrown garden and the age- stained concrete ‘shed’. No surveillance, no-one following; good. Not that I’d expected anyone, not after nearly ten years, but it didn’t hurt to be certain, old habits, old programming.

I briefly inspected the lock, no signs of tampering; Idly I typed in the half remembered access code and was surprised to find that it still worked. No need for the electronic lockpick after all then.

With a groan, the mighty blast-door opened revealing a nuclear-proof interior completely at odds with the garden shed’s distinctly low tech exterior.

Cursing the noise, I dropped my beloved board and rode it inside, accelerating down the ramp that the shed had been built to conceal, hitting the door release as I skated past it.

Half remembered memories boiled under the surface of my mind, like the glowing globs in a lava lamp. ...Agent Easton joking with my ‘father’, the machine, the Black Ops missions; then the court case, the custody battle and of course, the newspapers.

“Come on Joe, hold it together” I said to myself as I board-braked to a skidding stop in front of the underground lab’s inner door.

Was The Machine still here?, that was the question. Or had it been dismantled by the covert clean-up operation that had to have followed exposure of the black ops agency that had run the place.

Taking a deep breath I pushed open the swing doors.

And there it was The Big C.A.T.

The Cepholgraphic Analogue Transcriber... A device that treated a person’s mind like it was a re-writable DVD.

A part of me wanted to smash it and keep on smashing until they came to take me away to The Village, but I resisted the foolish temptation, far better that some good come from the rotten thing.

This machine was the root cause of all my troubles, it also defines a large part of who and what I am...and if things pan out, give me a solution to my problems with Gareth Young.

It happened like this; ten years ago someone had thought it was a really smart idea to have a programmable secret agent. Need an expendable nuclear bomb expert? Just load the memories into some hapless agent and he’s good to go.

They’d needed a test subject of course, and being black ops they’d been sneaky about it, picking up a seven-year-old orphan for the job. An orphan called Joseph, ...that’d be me by the way.

The experiment worked and I absorbed the memories of one of their top agents. The Agency were overjoyed, and eagerly put their test subject to work... and that had been the big mistake.

They’d assumed that I, being only seven, didn’t know that sending a small child on espionage missions was:—

1. Wrong
2. Reckless endangerment
3. Child abuse
4. Actionable in court.

What they hadn’t figured out was that the first time they uploaded a lawyer or a cop into my head, I’d know my exact legal status and the exact extent to which I was being fucked over (figuratively).

At first there had been little I could do, the uploaded skills would get wiped after each new mission. I’d tried keeping a diary, but once I was wiped the carefully detailed crime reports became a mass of ‘grown-up words’ I didn’t quite understand.

Their second big mistake had been uploading a hypno-therapist’s skill set. I deliberately fluffed that mission, allowing myself a week ‘lost’ in the jungle. Time I spent doing a serious amount of hypnotic self-improvement.

After that the mind wipes had been less than total. A few weeks later I found myself with enough residual skill to hack the C.A.T. disabling that nasty mind wipe function completely.

A mere six months, of espionage and ‘wetwork’, was all it took for me to record enough data to have the project shut down. Instead of acting immediately I waited; waited until they’d fed me every skill-set they had on record.

When my highly detailed journal found its way into the hands of the press, no one ever thought little Joseph was responsible. Even the chief scientist, my so called stepfather, believed I was ‘just a kid’ even though he should have known better.

Waiting had been the hard part, it had been absolutely critical that the poor abused orphan make a ‘full recovery’ and ‘adjust to a normal parental environment’.

I’d waited an entire month before hypnotizing my foster parents and their son. Aside from that one lapse I kept (more or less) strictly to my role-play.

At age 12 it was appropriate that I express an interest in sport, this allowed me to slowly introduce the proper diet and exercise routines that I knew would produce the optimum physique in both myself and my step-brother.

The need to be fit had been a purely logical choice at that point; other reasons for looking like a hot hunk hadn’t ‘come up’ until later.

Growing up to be a horny gay stud hadn’t been in the plan, but I adjusted my agenda to take my emerging preferences into account. Manipulating events so that I was ‘Outed’ in my early teens not only allowed me to be true to myself, it gave my covert minders a set of healthy ‘normal’ issues to report on. It also gave me a load of schoolboy homophobes to practice my self defense skills on and allowed access to a handy pool of like-minded individuals practically begging to do my bidding.

All nice and logical; then I go and fall in love, and I’m here potentially blowing my cover like a damn amateur.

It had come as something of a surprise to realize that being an expert in everything is no help at all when Gareth Young, the boy of my dreams, is so straight you could measure wood with him. Unlike all those other casual (and obedient) lovers, there was no existing gay-tendency in Gar that I can hang a hypnotic compulsion from.

So here’s the big plan; all I have to do is set things up so that Gareth understands how good it feels to have a hard cock up the ass. He will then fall in love with me and we will live happily ever after.

Ok I admit I’m a little fuzzy on detail when it gets to the him genuinely falling in love with me, but giving him an appreciation for boy on boy sex is do-able and sure to make a difference.

I looked at the big C.A.T. assessing it with eyes that knew everything there was to know about computers (1945-1990 inclusive).

The big C.A.T. was a hybrid, a throwback to an era when computers had needed their own rooms, and were fed by huge reels of magnetic tape; somehow it’s evolution had missed out on hard drives and bluetooth.

It was quite likely, I reflected, that anyone seeing the squat water-boiler shape of the C.A.T. for the first time wouldn’t have seen past the mere presence of those tape drives.

In theory the carefully programmed PDA in my cargo-pants thigh pocket could replace 90% of the Big C.A.T.’s computer core. But the computer wasn’t the prize, instead the critical element was the magnetic induction sphere that surrounded the programming chair like the segments of a humvee sized chocolate orange.

“Hello old friend” I whispered running a finger along one of the orange painted induction segments, the curved surface slightly ridged with tightly wound magnetic wires.

The chair itself would have to go, it was designed for a little kid, my cute seventeen year old butt just isn’t going to fit anymore.

Fishing around in my pocket I pulled out my wrap-around shades and clicked them into place feeling the knowledge flow sharpen into crystal clarity.

As an agent I had been forced to wear an exceptionally ugly pair of National Health glasses to hide the mnemonic repeaters that were strapped to my head. The mnemonic repeaters were supposed to stop the current skill-set from degrading.

These shades however, were just a regular off the shelf item. Self-hypnosis had been the key The Agency had missed; As long as I ‘believed’ that wearing sunglasses prevented the skills from degrading they wouldn’t.

An hour later I threw the circuit breaker and the magnetic induction sphere began to rotate slowly emitting a powerful electromagnetic hum

Shummm Shummm Shummm.

Success!

A rogue memory bubbles to the surface; the chief scientist saying ‘Ok Joe, the transfer’s complete’, he always said that, always the same five words like a hypnotic trigger phrase.

Quickly I cut the power, no sense risking the old girl until I had everything else ready...The flashback hadn’t spooked me at all... yeah right.

Carefully I removed my shades and picked up my skateboard, time to find and extract the erotic skills I want my Gareth to have.

Coliseum Sauna, London

The Coliseum is exactly the right distance away from Liverpool Street Station; near enough to be an easy walk and far enough away that its not ‘in the face’ of the moral minority.

The walk along Great Eastern Road gives me a chance to get in character. When I leave the station I’m just an annoyance with a skateboard, by the time I reach the last set of traffic lights next to Universal Imports, I’m practically radiating enough ‘available twink’ vibes to turn the head of every gayboy within half a mile.

In some ways the Coliseum is better disguised than the lab; on the outside it looks like a typical industrial unit, on the inside its a Romanesque pleasure palace.

The doorman looks me up and down suspiciously. Fortunately for me its Bruno. Bruno’s sweet, I got to him a while ago, he has this secret kink about being a puppy. After a little hypnosis I’ve allowed him to express that inner puppyness and at some deep level he knows he’s a good boy.

With a flashy extravagant gesture I pull out my shades and slip them on my nose. Bruno looks confused for a second and then begins licking his lips in a puppyish way.

“Its me, Bruno, you recognize me don’t you Bruno.”

The puppyness fades a bit as Bruno’s expression as he focuses on me, recognizing my shades. “Mr. Woods?! Oh I’m sorry, please go right in!”

“Please Bruno, we are friends, you can call me Elijah”

“Oh no Sir, I could never do that, I’m just a bad puppy” said Bruno dreamily as he unlocked the door for me.

I expect he’ll beat the meat later imagining that he’s talked to the famous cutie.

Having stripped and showered I flip my white towel carelessly over my shoulder, tense my abs and head into the main poolroom.

Forget everything you think you know, this place has a completely different culture. Forget handshakes, a greeting is as likely to consist of a hesitant hand on your cock or a squeeze of the ball-sack.

Anyhow, they all turn to look, predatory, hungry, assessing; is he any good? Damn he’s hot!

The ability to read the subtle widening of an eye, and the slight licking of lips isn’t telepathy, its just another skill set courtesy of the big C.A.T.

After a few long seconds the pause ends; their reactions based upon their position within the sauna group’s pecking order. The old and the ugly sigh and slump a little, thinking that they aren’t worthy of my company. Some of the better buffed guys eye me speculatively, hoping perhaps that I’d like a muscular ‘daddy’ and of course a few princely queens glare daggers at me for distracting boys they thought they’d already claimed for their own.

On looks alone I’ve been assessed, and by unspoken consent been rated as one of the evening’s Princes.

They’re going to be disappointed, I’m in love and Gareth’s going to get my ass relatively intact.

So... What’s so special about this particular gay sauna you ask? Simple, this is where the most skilled cocksucker in London holds court.

How do I know? a combination of skill-sets, statistical analysis, covert observation and of course empirical experimentation.

It takes a disciplined, trained mind to see it. The sauna has a hierarchy, with small groups each clustered around an alpha-male, eager to do service to physical perfection. Usually the centre of attention is a hot young guy, attracting gayboys like moths to a flame.

One group is different, its composed of ultra fit young sex gods trying to catch the eye of an overweight middle-age guy with a Bristole accent.

He’s Andy The Cocksucker. The irony is that he doesn’t know that he’s the best at what he does. He doesn’t even realize that he could command these boys to steal the crown jewels if he wanted them to.

I pull my shades loose from my rubber key-band (the only place I had to hang them) and flip them onto my eyes with a flamboyant gesture, like a gunfighter unclipping his holster.

My skills sharpen again, as luck would have it two of the four hot young twinks surrounding The Cocksucker were boys I’d had, hypnotized, practiced on and had again. So it’s One rubberboy, a leatherboy and two queenlets that I don’t know. This was going to be easier than I’d first thought, I’d need some props though.

I turned toward the juice bar next to the pool, it would have all I needed. It takes a very special sort of bar to sell OJ, diet coke, lube, poppers, leather strapping, tea and coffee.

“Give me a doke, a leather cock strap, and an elastic band, please Mike, charge it to locker 815.”

“Here you go, boss, one diet coke, one slave restrainer and one regular elastic band” he replies handing over my supplies.

I wander over to where the boys are standing in a circle around The Cocksucker waiting to be blown. Occasionally they tweak each other’s nipple or kiss, just enough activity to look mutual rather than a queue.

“Hi boys”

“Joseph! Darling!”

“Look at you!, I just love that new hair color, sweet thing”

“Yes, its the latest thing” I reply “It gradually changes whilst you look at it. You can see it can’t you. Timmy? Cadj? Is it changing for you?”

“Changing for us” replies Timmy the leatherboy, dreamily as my post hypnotic trigger distracts him.

His friend, Cadj the Dutch rubberboy looks at me and then at Timmy, not sure what’s going on.

Before he can voice his confusion I slip the double folded elastic band over his cock so that it contracts tightly around the base of his penis.

He gasps, his cock’s veins bulging from the erotic touch of the rubbery constraint. He wants to touch the rubberband but his fingers stop short as if there’s a forcefield in the way.

The forcefield is all in his mind of course, placed there when I was practicing a skill set that was designed to allow me to restrain enemy agents with no visible evidence. If Timmy’s confused then Cadj is in bondage heaven.

Quickly I return my attention to Timmy and dig out the leather cockstrap. In its open state it looks a bit like a centipede a central leather spine with four pairs of watchstrap buckles as ‘legs’ before he can object, I snap the spider-leg clasps closed so that the leather strapping holds his hard cock tightly. The click of the final fastener activates a full trance state.

In his mind his every limb is bound in tight leather belts fastened with silver rings; rings to which chains can be clipped, his senses are further dazzled by the smell of fresh leather.

Timmy’s love of leather is of course almost totally artificial; he’s the son of a rather useful politician. I substituted the leather addiction and some extra gayness for the cocaine habit and of course added a little compulsion to warn me if Daddy’s Agency friends at MI5 got interested in me.

“Now you two guys really want to get it on with those two guys, find a room; do anything they want” I suggested pointing at the two puzzled looking boys next to them.

There, sorted, just me and The Cocksucker left. He glares up at me.

“Don’t feel so bad Andrew. I have a proposition for you” I say

He looks at me in shock. I just broke the unwritten rule of anonymity; maybe he even thinks no one knows his name.

“How....” he gasps

Before he can get too confused I step up to where he’s kneeling and slap his cheek with my erection. He understands that; being dominated this way is what he loves.

“Here’s the deal, I have this fantasy, a fantasy about robots. What I want is to talk to you as if I’m programming a robot-slave, then you get to wear a little headband thing...in return you get to suck my cock un-interrupted for the duration”

I give his cheek another meaty slap, a strand of precum hooking between his face and my cock’s tiny lips. His eyes scan up my well-honed teenage body, taking in my disciplined expression and blackly opaque sunglasses.

“Oh yes” he replies almost to himself.

And there it is, victory assured. Hypnosis only works on the willing, he’s willing all right. All it needs now is the actual words.

Two minutes later we’re in a private room the size of a double bed with a soft, cum-proof, mattress floor and a condom dispenser on the wall.

Silently I think the words ‘programming complete’ and call up the mental image of Phil The Hypnotist....the original owner of my hypnosis skills.

“So...uh...how do you want to do this?” says The Cocksucker nervously getting down on his knees, flicking a covetous glance at my cock and almost licking his lips.

I take out the first of the C.A.T. mind recorders out and fix it to his forehead. The device looks like a computer CPU and has double-sided tape to hold it in place. To get a recording I need to place four of the devices. For now though, one will do perfectly well as a hypnotic focus.

“Initiate phase one, upload”

“What?” he says uncertainly

“You were going to pretend to be assimilated; remember?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry”

“You can feel it can’t you, the way the mnemonic recorder is calming your thoughts?”

“Uh..YES...MAS-TER” he says in a totally fake un-hypnotized voice.

“Shhh, sit quietly, feel it, imagine its happening, there’s no need to speak just now, just feel it happening”

I place my hand on his head, my fingers finding the pressure points that the Indian Head massage skill-set tells me will slightly restrict the blood flow and, over time, generate a feeling of mellow relaxation that is just a short step away from a trance state.

After a few minutes he says “I feel it now” his dazed voice contains a hint of surprise.

“Good, I want you to feel your thoughts, and imagine them to be a river rushing over rapids, chaotic and disordered”

He nods slightly

“gradually you begin to feel my device’s effect, channeling your thoughts, making them less turbulent, moving calmly, changing direction disciplined 90° turns.”

He frowns slightly, whether because he’s not playing or because he’s experiencing what I describe isn’t clear. His hands have slumped to hang limply at his sides so I’m guessing its working. I give him several phrase repetitions to reinforce the hypnotic effect until I’m happy he’s fully under.

“Initiating phase two assimilation” I say sticking the second mnemonic recorder onto his forehead.

“Unit 531 will now begin reporting on the progress of the assimilation process.” I order.

“I...I can feel it.. I can feel the nano-tech running along my nerve-paths, its like a hundred ice cold pins running over my skin. Its beginning to effect my mind too.

I should be struggling or telling you that I just want to get on with sucking you dry, but the emotion no longer seems relevant... Nothing is relevant... I must concentrate on re-ordering my thoughts, making myself more compatible with my new operating system”

The Cocksucker’s eyes roll up, his eyes moving as if reading some hidden instruction. This guy is really getting into it, I guess I must have tagged some secret fantasy of his. I’d better make sure he retains the parts of his personality that make him such an oral expert.

“I will now install your command implant so that you can receive instructions directly” I say, sticking the third mind recorder in place.

“Accessing....unit protocols ready...awaiting input”

“531, You are a cocksucker unit. Your primary function is the causing of arousal and and orgasm of other male units by use of your oral pleasure routines. For optimal performance you will have full access to your human memories related to this skill. Confirm.”

“Con-Firm. Re-Loading, Re-Loading. pri-mary func-tion read-y”

“I will now insert your final implant. Once this process is complete you will proceed with your primary function and give pleasure to this unit...designated Unit 90.” I instruct fixing the final memory recorder in place and flipping the play and rec. buttons on the device’s edge.

I suppose I should be worried about the integrity of brain data stored on magnetic tape but then so much of me was loaded that way I guess it must be ok.

A second later my concerns evaporate as the cocksucker does what he does best. Slowly his warn lips slide up my shaft warm and infinitely moist until the tip of my shaft touches the back of his throat. He pulls back with infinite care and then surges forward again lips tight around my swelling cock.

He starts bobbing back and forth in a rhythm like the pendulum of a clock in out in out, each stroke a slightly different combination of lip pressure and tongue. He brings me to the very edge of orgasm and I grab his head wanting to hold him exactly ‘there’.

But his skills are greater, he knows that allowing me such a quick release would be less than the ultimate. The next few caresses are gentler, teasing, allowing my erection to soften slightly between his lips. Sensing the fading of my first need he picks up the pace again commanding my cock to even greater exertion, although I can’t see it I know my cock’s love-duct is bulging out like a spine along its underside while huge veins swell desperately to keep pace.

The memory recorder beeps its warning. Time has passed while The Cocksucker played his tunes on my instrument and now there are less than 60 second left on the 30 minute cassette.

“Unit 531 you will make me cum in the next 30 seconds” I order breathlessly.

Instead of increasing his rhythmic sucking The Cocksucker withdraws allowing my cock to spring free for the first time. His tongue gently touches the base of my cock and oh so gently drifts upward until it reaches the tiny heart shaped place where the love-duct dives inside and the head mushrooms outward. He repositions himself and lets the tip of his tongue kiss my cock-lips once, twice and then he withdraws slightly positioning himself....waiting.

The terrible need that’s been building for almost half an hour suddenly goes critical, my vision blurs, the world seems to draw back toward infinity leaving only my cock shooting chunky thick cum across his passive face.

It takes me several moments to get over the exertion, my body is slick and glistening with sweat as If I had run a marathon on the equator even though I’ve hardly moved.

“Function complete. Awaiting orders” saws the Cocksucker flatly.

“Unit 531 will now enter a sleep mode lasting 240 minutes at the end of which it will enter covert mode pretending to be exactly the person he previously was unless reactivated by Unit 90″ I order breathlessly.

Immediately The Cocksucker sits back into a meditation pose and closes his eyes. Once I’m sure he’s off I carefully remove my recorders and head back to the lockers, putting away my sunglasses and recorders. My task may be complete but I must still maintain my cover identity as a Prince of the Sauna, take a shower, apply soap to a hunky young stranger’s genitals, attract an entourage, go for a grope in the steam rooms and allow them to touch me up and generally worship, even though I’m totally spent.

The C.A.T.

Hesitantly I clunked the dicta-phone cassette into the player that I’d hotwired in to replace the C.A.T.’s tape spools. There was no way I was going to try this jury-rigged antique on Gareth without testing it first.

Besides, I want The Cocksucker’s skill for my own use as well. My Spy Skill-Set recognizes it as a complementary skill for any honey-trap operations I should be called upon to do.

I frown. Why am I thinking like a spy again? I’m not a spykid, nobody gives me orders any more… I gain skills because they are useful to ME, not The Mission.

Carefully I recheck the electric egg-timer that I’ve rigged into the shutdown sequencer. Without an assistant to stop the C.A.T. It’s vital the thing can shut itself down; Otherwise I might be in the sphere until I starve to death.

Quickly I strip down. I don’t want anything metallic (like the rivet studs on my jeans) inside there distorting the magnetic flow thats going to program my mind.

Here goes! I hit the release and race to get between the curved spines of the induction sphere before they lock into position around the Dias.

With a metallic clunk the final segment locks down like the bars of a prison cage.

Slowly the sphere begins to spin and suddenly I’m relaxing, I’m home, swamped with feelings of security...perhaps the sphere isn’t like the bars of a cage, more like the shell of an egg, my egg.

Shuuuum ....Shhuuum.. Shuuuum

I can feel the magnetic forces tugging at me, lifting me away from the Dias, the feelings of safety and relaxation increase exponentially. Happily I curl up into a fetal position held floating in mid air by the warm soothing magnetic caress.

Why don’t I remember this feeling of total peace from my previous programmings? If I’d remembered it feeling like this, I’d have been reprogramming myself within a month of closing The Agency down.

Shuuuum, ShhuumShummmmm

My hair stands on end tugged by the static charge, then my mind begins to tingle, squeezed like silly-putty as the C.A.T. turns me into The Cocksucker.

The memory of the taste of cock, salty and warm drifts through my mind...of course! If I do this and this with my tongue it takes the guy’s cock to the edge of orgasm.

The memory shifts, I’m knelt in front of a younger guy, observing a perfect six-pack and a well proportioned cock. Different ways to service the master’s need bubble through my mind like a General planning a military campaign.

Vaguely I recognize the trimmed pubic hair and small tribal tattoo. For a second reality is fractured, I’m looking at my own cock, remembering exactly how ‘I’ serviced it.

Each master’s cock is a unique riddle, the exact combination of rhythm, lip pressure, lick and caress needed to unlock its juicy reward is sensed the same way a safebreaking lock-picker ‘feels’ the slight click of the next tumbler.

To my mild surprise, I remember the young Master in front of me was an ‘easy lock to pick’ his (my) orgasm easy to acquire.

I remember the Master’s cum splattering across my face, he doesn’t notice or care that the splash of cum has triggered my own orgasm.

Orgasm... everything fading into pure whiteness.

ShmmShum.. Shuuuum... Shuuuum...

Slowly I return to consciousness, the hardness of the Dias’ edge motivating me to move, rolling over and groaning. Maybe I need to think about putting a chair back in here after all. But had it worked? As usual my time within the induction sphere is an utter blank.

Staggering over to the jeans draped over the auxiliary console I rummage around until I find my shades slipping them firmly into place.

Yes! The Cocksucker Skill-Set is there. I lick my lips, severely tempted to just find someone to practice on. But first things first, quickly I power down the C.A.T. Whilst trying to pull on my pants with my other hand.

Home

I roll my board up to the front gates pressing the intercom.

“Its Joseph” I say impatiently.

The gate gives a buzz letting me into the grounds. I like to think my stepfamily have benefited significantly from taking me in. Naturally upgrading them and their circumstances immediately would have been tactically unsound, so the improvements have been gradual, starting out with a suburban semi-detached they now occupy the sort of villa that needs a sit-on mower and a permanent gardener.

I am convinced that anyone looking into my stepfamily’s good fortune won’t spot the truth.

Gerald, my stepfather has worked his way up within his company, his colleagues regard him as a truly dedicated worker earmarked for The Board. That is of course unsurprising; he currently spends 18 hours a day dedicated to the task of advancing his pay grade (and therefore, my comfort level).

Gerald’s national lottery syndicate has twice won the lesser prize neither was larger than £100,000 and neither set of balls was his choice.

Susan, My step-mum, is of course now the perfect Stepford wife, taking care of the household duties and (after much intervention by myself) is turning into a highly competent Chef.

Which leaves Harry, my stepbrother. In contrast to Step-dad, Harry hasn’t done well at all, getting himself expelled from school for fighting some homophobes who disrespected his little bro. He’s happy now though, he’s been able to concentrate on his bodybuilding, and grounds keeping skills.

Seeing me heading up the graveled drive, Harry stops his sit-on mower and runs across. I take a moment to appreciate the sight of my quarterback-sized bro, stripped to the waist, gleaming with sweat and grass stains.

I sometimes feel a little guilty about Harry, I practiced on him way to many times; he has so many trigger phrases in his head its not really safe to let him go out in public too often.

“So, Gareth gave you the brush off then” he grins maliciously

“He just doesn’t understand what he’s missing yet.”

“Good”

“You’re Jealous aren’t you” I grin

“Of course I bloody am. Damn it! You’ve left me switched to Truth Mode again haven’t you.”

“Yep”

“That’s careless Bro. If any stranger had asked me anything I’d have had to tell them.”

“Relax Harry, there aren’t any strangers around and even Evens The Post knows to blank out anything he sees here whilst delivering letters.”

“I know...but I still feel compelled to warn you when I think you’re making a mistake. You planted that one in my head so long ago its practically instinct.”

“Yeah” I sigh. Boy do I regret that one; sometimes he gets down right eager to point out my mistakes.

“I may be jealous, but that’s not the whole thing. This Gareth obsession is a massive risk to your security. Sooner or later he’s going to notice that your family are not exactly normal. You’ll end up either having to erase his memory or turning him into another sex-toy like me or that bitch Timmy.”

“Not going to happen” I snap “I’m going to arrange it so that Gareth accepts me for who and what I am...and you are going to help me do it.”

“Your wish is my command” he’s says with a mix of irony, eagerness and sadness.

“Truth mode, Harry. Tell me, do you love me?”

“Absolutely. You’ve been shaping my personality for over a decade now. You never blatantly ordered me to love you, but every order you ever implanted was colored by your need to be loved. I love it that you can reshape my personality any time you choose, I love being around you, I love being your servant, and I go to sleep every night jacking off to a picture of you.” he replies earnestly.

“Programming mode” I say, putting on my shades. Its time for a little editing.

Harry’s head slumps forward, he’s into an instant trance state.

“You aren’t jealous anymore. If having Gareth will make Joseph happy it will make you happy too. Awaken”

Harry’s head snaps back up, he’s grinning ear to ear.

“I feel much better now. What did you change?”

“What do you think of Gareth?”

“He’s still a security risk, but for a hunk like that its worth taking a chance....I didn’t used to think that did I.”

“Nope”

“Oh well” he shrugs, his past attitude of no more interest than a passing cloud. “So, how are you going to get Gareth to stop hating your guts long enough to fall in love with you? You could always just hypno him like you have the rest if us.

“If I wanted another glove puppet I would. No; I want Gareth to choose me of his own free will and thats where you come in Bro. Put these on your head and come into the conservatory” I order giving him the four memory recorders.

Once we’re safely out of sight I slip a new cassette in and hit record.

“Passion Mode: Dominant, Brutal” I order.

Harry grins evilly

“Like it rough do you bitch? Want your big brother to show you how its done.” he growls launching himself at me and pushing me back against the wall, knocking over several tomato plants.

Rapidly he grabs both my wrists, transferring his grip so that they are both held in a single garden callused fist. He leans close, his face reddened with a bull animal’s lust. He kisses me savagely biting my lip before nuzzling my neck like a vampire. That’s going to be one hell of a hicky.

I struggle a bit, but not seriously though. I could escape using any one of eighteen different methods...if I wanted.

He takes a pruning knife from his belt, showing me the carbon steel blade before gently drawing the tip down the length of my torso, not cutting, just letting me feel the steel. He reaches my belly button before finally puncturing my T-shirt and cutting the fabric upward as far as my pectorals.

The knife vanishes back into its belt sheath and he completes the destruction of the shirt with his hand, savagely ripping it up to the braided neck-line and then across the shoulder so that my entire right torso is exposed.

He slams me back again to remind me who’s in charge before biting hard on my nipple, sending pleasure/pain shooting through me. Ahhh sweet pain, stop/don’t stop.

“Yeah, you want it don’t you bitch” he says to himself, lost in his Dom-brutal persona.

Grabbing my shoulder in a grip of iron he spins me around using his weight to pin me to the wall.

I can hear the ripping as his knife slits the seat of my pants. I clench my asshole in anticipation. My butt exposed to the cold morning air.

“Gonna fuck you up, you fucking freak, you made me like this...and you know what...I love it. But first you get to pay for all those submissive personalities you had live me through.”

His hand slaps my exposed butt-cheek causing me to gasp. A brief and energetic paddling later and my cheeks must be glowing a delightfully sensitive pink.

Time to move this along...

“Don’t! Don’t fuck my ass” I order

Silently he kicks my ankles outward into a wide, spread-eagled stance and thrusts upward; his fat, lust-swollen cock wedging between my ass-cheeks just below my asshole. I desperately try not to seem eager by wriggling my butt down onto his rod or anything like that.

And then he’s in me, fucking me like a rutting bull, slamming into me again and again. There’s no skill to this, just the pure passion of a person who’s grown up loving it that his brother can reshape his personality at will. Can The C.A.T.’s mind recorders capture pure emotions? I hope so.

Damn but he’s good, I’m going to be walking like John Wayne after this. The slippery thrusts send me closer and closer to orgasm. I’m not touching my cock, I want Harry to put me over the edge without me ever touching it.

A hand reaches around me scratching four long scrapes across my pectorals ending in a sharp pinching twist of my nipple.

I’m nearly there and there’s one thing guaranteed to bring me to climax

“Don’t...don’t cum” I gasp

“Uuh-uuunnn” he grunts, sending his boiling hot jism deep into my ass, lubricating his thrusts allowing him to pick up the pace from frantic to frenzied.

Aahh....there I go, cum splattering the brickwork, damn that was good, if only Harry were Gareth it’d be perfect.

“Passion Mode: Cumm-eater, submissive” I order, gasping from my exertions

Instantly my hands are released and I can feel Harry’s pleasantly warm tongue gently licking my butt clean. Once he’s done I’ll let him clean the brickwork as well... a treat, for being such a Good Boy.

In the background I hear a faint click, the memory recorder’s cassette running out of tape. Job done, and another invaluable lesson recorded.

What next?...masseur? Yeps, definitely! Gareth will need to know how to relieve my aches and pains.

A week later

Pharaoh’s Sauna, Brighton

My body feels incredible as Etienne’s fingers do good things to my inner thigh. I want Gareth to be able to work magic with his hands, so a visit to Etienne The Master Masseur was a must.

Etienne is the last on my list. I found myself thinking up skill after skill that I want Gareth to have. I realized I could have gone on hunting down the masters of the various erotic techniques in a quest lasting years.. a tempting prospect; but memories in several of my skill-sets indicate that doing so wouldn’t be optimal.

Suddenly there’s shouting and the thudding of feet running up the metal spiral stairs leading from the sauna up to the massage rooms and restaurant.

Combat reflexes take hold and I’m on my feet grabbing for my sunglasses even as the door slams open...its Harry!...dressed only in tight denim shorts (he’s supposed to be working on his all-over tan today so he’s obviously compromised between his current orders and the default ‘don’t draw attention’ instruction by putting on the minimum public decency requires)

“Joseph! Gareth’s gone and won a sports scholarship at Princeton, USA. He’s already on his way to Heathrow.”

“Damn! Well they can’t have him, I saw him first!”

“Is there a problem monsieur?” asks Etienne

“I expect you need some nap-time” I reply with his trigger phrase.

Instantly he slumps into a pose like a sleepwalker stood to attention. Quickly I pull loose the memory recorders I’d attached from his dark Mediterranean curls.

“You will awaken in 15 seconds, you will remember giving me my massage and that I got up and walked out when you’d finished...and we weren’t interrupted. Got that ?”

“Yes sir”

“Lets go”

Harry had parked the car on the traffic island out front of the Brighton Pavillion.. it had drawn a crowd.

“Oh great! Dad’s Car! That’s not exactly inconspicuous Harry”

“The Mini is being serviced. Besides, your Dad’s is waay faster.”

My Dad’s car is another part of my inheritance. When they Jailed my stepfather I made certain that I got to keep the old girl. She’s a metallic red, two seater, powered by a Rolls-Royce Pegasus engine and can go naught to five hundred in about 30 seconds.

Yep, that’s right, the worlds only prototype VTOL Roadster.

“...I can’t help it if you set my priority on The Gareth Project higher than that for normal security.” grumbled Harry

Unfortunately he’s got a point.

“Ok, ok, my bad. Now go to Mode:Pilot and get us to Heathrow”

“Righto, Chocks away and all that.” says Harry slipping into a WW2 fighter ace persona, that I’d found quite erotic a few years ago. “Stand back Chaps, the backdraft from the old girl can be dashed fierce.”

Slowly the onlookers obey, eventually I get fed up with their slowness, lean out the passenger window and use the ‘command voice’ skill...that’s where you get people to obey instinctively by shouting at them...fortunately ‘move-it’ is a simple enough command for this to work.

Bad enough that they’ve seen the car, the last thing I need is headlines like ‘Local gays fried to crisp by flying car’ on top of that.

A minute later the old girl is skimming over the South Downs at tree top level.

For once I can’t enjoy the ride, my mind’s in turmoil as I try to put together a scenario that starts with me kidnapping Gareth and ends with him voluntarily stepping into the Big C.A.T. And becoming my gay lover.

“I packed your special bag, old chap” says Harry seeming to sense my thoughts.

I glance down, seeing the battered old brief case wedged in the footwell. Swiftly I pull the case up onto my lap disarm the lock-traps and open it. At first sight the contents would look like the contents of a 7-year-old’s school bag. In fact, when you screw the pen and the pencil sharpener together they become a non-metallic air pistol capable of firing a range of chemical pellets disguised as a tube of gum-balls.

Heathrow Airport

“Paging Mr. Gareth Young, Paging Mr. Gareth Young please report to the Virgin Airways information desk, thank you” announced the attendant’s bored voice over the PA system.

I’d had Harry ring in a bogus message to attract Gareth’s attention.

There! Walking purposefully across the food court, tall, model-perfect features atop a body to die for, Gareth Young.

Carefully I slip my hand into my jacket pocket feeling for the trigger of the toy-sized gun, its magazine loaded with fast acting theta-hypnol...

...No.... I won’t do this.

I’m not evil, not like the agents who robbed me of my childhood. I release my grip on the trigger, my palms warm and sticky.

If I can’t talk him around I don’t deserve him anyway. I fiddle with my sunglasses, ensuring that they are on straight and step out in front of him.

“Joseph.” he sighs

“Hi”

“That PA call was you wasn’t it”

“Yep. We need to talk”

He nods and indicates a table overlooking the duty free atrium. His attitude (as always) is less intolerant without his posse of friends egging him on.

“Look Joseph, you’re not that bad a person, but this obsession has to stop. I’m not gay, so there’s no sense in you following me to America. Don’t screw up your life for something that’s not going to happen”

“That’s not why I’m here, not entirely. I think I have a way to get you a fast track on your degree, there’s a way to compress a three year course into the fraction of the time...you’d be ready to take your finals in less than a month, and you wouldn’t need to go abroad to get it.”

“I’m not interested in buying a fake certificate Joseph”

“No, no, its not fake. Look, for the last couple of months I’ve had a job at an educational research institute… As a test subject for a new learning technique. Ask me a question, any subject, history, mental arithmetic, physics, motor mechanics, sports theory, you name it.”

“Ok, semi-final of the 1987 FA cup, who scored first?”

“Gary Linecker, after 15 minutes, from a free kick”

“What is the square root of 5789?”

“76.0854782”

“Prove it!” he challenges.

I smile in victory; fortunately I have the sort of digital watch that has a calculator function. I unstrap it and let him punch the numbers in himself. He asks me a few more oddball questions his handsome face scrunging up as he tries to think of something I couldn’t possibly know the answer to.

“....And I can arrange for you to have the same level of skill I’ve just demonstrated. Look, just check it out for yourself, you’ll miss your flight, but I’ll cover the cost of a later flight, buy you the ticket today if you want. You won’t lose out I promise.”

His body language tells me that he’s subconsciously in favor, all it needs is for his brain to catch up.

“Ok...but it had better not be a trick and I want to see a new ticket before I leave this airport.”

“Wait here, I’ll go get it”

Quickly I get up and head toward the row of airline desks; as soon as I’m out of earshot I flip open my mobile and quickdial Harry.

“Harry, get Tim, Cadj, Steven and Willard on the phone. Tell them Code: Pink, then wait until they tell you that they are in a trance. Instruct them to dress as scientists, and to believe that they are going to be doing educational research. You then pick them up and drop them at the Big C.A.T. They are to look busy but not touch any of the controls.”

“Ok Joseph, I make the C.A.T. Building Look like its in use, I get the idea” confirms Harry

“You take the Car, I’ll take the train, that will give you time to set this up.”

“Ok”

The Big C.A.T.

Gareth, follows me down into the bunker, glancing around nervously, The nuclear proofed shed wasn’t exactly what he’d expected.

Fortunately the boys are doing a good job. I was worried that the model perfect hunks, Cadj and Tim, looked a little bit young for researchers, but Harry showed some initiative and has Cadj playing a test subject. Meanwhile Steven and Willard, a pair of BDSM masters, are naturals at the authoritarian chief researcher role.

“So how does this work?” he asks Willard

“Vell, it is vastly complex, perhaps it is better if Herr Joseph explains in simpler language” replies Willard in a classic Einstein impersonation that neatly disguises the fact that knows nothing about C.A.T. Technology.

“Its a giant magnet that copies memory information directly into your head. Say for example we loaded you with Arnold Schwarzenegger’s body building skills, you would remember how Arnie did things and even what he felt about it.”

“You have Arnie’s memories??”

“Well no. They have the guy who trained Arnie, he knew more.”

“So what do I do? Will it hurt?”

“All you have to do is stand in the sphere and let it happen... And it doesn’t hurt at all, actually it feels pretty good.”

Gareth takes an uncertain step toward the induction sphere.

“You have to strip down first I’m afraid. Any trace of metal could distort the Magna-sphere and that could do bad things to your brain. Don’t worry I promise not to look.”

“What nude?”

“Yep”

“I don’t know about this”

“You’ve seen what it can do and you want to back out now?”

He frowns, he hates being called a quitter.

“Ok! Bring it on!” he says unbuttoning his shirt to reveal that bronzed washboard that I love so much.

“What do you want to learn first? I’d recommend the maths, it’s an easy one to prove to you that you learned some shit”

“Ok! Bring it on” he says squaring his shoulders and walking into the sphere.

I take a moment to admire the lack of tan-lines on his firm virgin butt.

He turns and stands there nervously, a hand covering his crotch wondering what will happen.

“Beginning Transfer” I inform him.

Slowly the gap in the orange induction segments closes and it begins to wind up to speed.

Shuuuum ....Shhuuum.. Shuuuum

Even the noise the sphere makes is giving me a hard on, a Pavlovian response I guess.

Soon the sphere is up to speed, moving so fast that its a blur...slowly Gareth rises from the floor floating suspended within the ultra-dense magnetic field.

Satisfied I turn the clunky old switch that begins to data transfer, the old magnetic tape spools begin to spin pushing inch wide strips of tape into the C.A.T.’s storage bin. Soon Gareth will have the memories of a Master Mathematician, a notoriously gay one naturally.

Finally an hour later, the data transfer is complete and I begin the process of winding down the Big C.A.T. Slowly the great sphere stops spinning and leaves Gareth standing naked and unsteady, a raging, data-induced, hard on standing mouthwateringly close.

“Did it work?” he asks

“What is the square root of 2865?”

“53.5256948” he replies instantly without so as much as frown of concentration. “Wow! It fucking worked!”

I note with satisfaction that he’s lost some of that modesty inhibition, he’s quite happy flopping that hard on around in a room full of males.

“The induced knowledge is only temporary at this stage” I warn, “I will need to teach you a couple of mental exercises so that it doesn’t fade”

He nods his assent, still on a high from all the new information sloshing around in his head; not wondering why its me leading this rather than ‘Doctor’ Willard.

I take him by the hand and lead him into the glass walled side office, secretly revelling in the soft intimacy of hand touching hand. Previously such contact would have been impossible, He’d have given me a good slapping and said hurtful words for such forwardness. This is solid evidence that the emotional part of the download is solidly bedded down.

“I can help you with that boner if you like, I’ve downloaded some wild sex skills”

He blushes beautifully and snatches his hand loose.

“Just stick to the procedure ok!”

“Ok. I need you to sit there and relax, I want you to remember how good it felt to have those memories implanted, how you floated, just letting things happen....relaxed passive, information flowing inward...”

Add my best hypnotic monotone to a mind that’s been freshly fried and soon Gareth’s eyes are closed, his body posture slumped and relaxed. All the signs of a nice deep hypnotic trance.

“I want you to feel the memories becoming a part of you, merging, becoming one, the new memories are no longer a separate thing, they are just a normal part of who you are. Tell me how that feels.”

“Feelsss nnormal”

“Good boy Gareth. I expect you are happy that everything is ok, and feel eager to absorb many more skills. Do you want more skills Gareth?”

“Yesss”

“I expect if I suggested that some skills are particularly kewl you’d choose to have those implanted wouldn’t you Gareth”

“I sspose so”

“That’s good, I’m sure you feel a sense of comfort and well being associated with all this. Am I right?”

“Yess, feelin’ kinda funky like mm doped or somethin’”

“No Gareth, you aren’t doped. You are in a light hypnotic trance designed to ensure that your new memories aren’t lost after a few hours. You don’t want that do you?”

“Nooo...I want memries”

“Now I’m going to test you, just a couple of questions. What is 584.4 × 258.5?”

“88283788.6”

“Sex... men or women?”

“Men...(frown) No, women..either I guessss”

I smile like a badwolf, definite progress here.

“I’m going to put a pair of sunglasses into your hands, they are special sunglasses with nanotechnology built into them. When you put them on your new memories will feel stronger and more dominant than your old ones. The shades are also self adjusting, they will feel very comfortable and make you look extremely attractive.”

He takes the sunglasses, (my spare pair, no different from any that you’d buy in the beach shop) and puts them on letting out a light sigh of pleasure as they rest on his nose. I notice that his cock, which had been slightly less hard was once again as solid as granite wrapped in bulging veins with a dew drop glistening on its head...It would be sooo tempting to just go down on him but that would have been a major tactical error.

“Sex... men or women?”

“Men”

There’s no doubt at all this time.

“Gareth, I’m going to count down, when I reach zero you will awaken, feeling alert and comfortable with everything that has just happened. Your discovery that you find men attractive is not something to worry about; in fact you might even feel the need to explore this side of your character. You feel certain that hypnosis cannot can’t make you do anything that you don’t want to, therefore anything you do will be because it is your own choice, nobody else’s. The count starts now...ten, nine, eight... zero”

Gareth jerks slightly and looks me in the eye, he doesn’t remove the wrap around shades. I can’t see his eyes behind the tinted glass, but I can feel them, like laser beams, taking in every detail of my physique for a second or two. Then he shakes his head a little as if trying to clear it.

“So, how soon before I can have another go?”

“I’d give it another half hour… you have some business to take care of” I reply looking pointedly at his delightful crotch.

He blushes so well! Realizing for the first time how magnificently erect the Big C.A.T. Has left him. Even now, when I’d expect him to cover himself up, he’s just staring down at himself. Looks like he’s gone from 0% gay to nearer 50% in just one sitting...Result! As they say.

“ummm... , look, could you give some privacy for a few minutes”

I nod reluctantly and move to pull down the room’s horizontal blinds. A total negation of his previous sexuality and suppression of his sense of what is decent in public would have been far too much to expect.

I fleetingly consider watching him jack off but decide its better to wait for the big pay off when he realizes he loves me.

“How’s it going Bro?” Asks Harry, who’s found a compromise solution to his conflicted dress code orders. Sure he’s wearing a lab coat disguise, but he’s naked underneath apart from those ultra-tight denim shorts that leave nothing to the imagination.

“Pretty good, he already fancies me. One more education themed session and I figure he’ll be ready for a download of those ‘special skills’ that I have in mind.

“That’s great Joe!” he replies with all the enthusiasm that I’ve ordered him to feel. “Is there anything I can do?”

I think for a minute. “Yes, actually there is. You can be a test to see how well he’s progressing. When he comes out of the next C.A.T. Session I want your coat to be unbuttoned to the waist and the top button of those shorts open as well... see how he reacts to that gardener’s six-pack of yours.

From inside the office I can hear the sound of water, clearly Gareth’s finished and is cleaning up. I clap my hands “Places everyone”

A second later Gareth emerges, still naked but lacking his erection which now glistens slightly from its quick trip to the wash basin.

“Ready for your second session?”

“Yeah! What skills have you got?”

“I promised you I’d give you the skills you’d get in Princeton. How about the skills a five times Olympic gold medalist; a guy who knew everything you’d need to know about exercise routines.”

“Sounds good” replies Gareth brushing past me and heading eagerly for the Big C.A.T.

Is it just me, or didn’t he care what skill he got as long as he got to for another ride in the sphere.

Soon the Big C.A.T. was humming again as the sphere rotated, wrapping Gareth in the memories gym-bunny who used to have an entourage of acolytes to oil him up before exhibition matches. The last program had taken an hour to run, the gym-bunny’s skills only took twenty minutes to load being considerably less cerebral.

I find myself pacing up and down, its like waiting for a bus this. Finally the rotation slows and Gareth floats back down to the ground.

He walks out of the sphere, confidently, no signs of his earlier disorientation and absolutely no problem with his nudity.

“Ok Gareth the transfer’s complete” I tell him, handing him his shades, which he immediately puts on.

“Joseph, this is fucking awesome! Watch....” he says striking a classic Mr. Universe pose.

Oooh how I’d like to lick that sweat glistened torso.

“We’d better get you hypnotized so that it doesn’t fade then”

“Ab-so-fucking-lutely” he replies moving toward the office and hesitating for a few long seconds as his eye catches sight of Harry’s torso beneath the lab coat.

“That was brother Harry” he says sounding surprised.

“Yep. Shall we get that memory fixed?” I reply, hoping he doesn’t begin to suspect the how fake this set-up is”

Fortunately he’s still distracted by the C.A.T. Induced euphoria and continues into the office sitting down ready for his hypnotic session.

“I want you to remember how you felt during our last session. I want you to find that floaty relaxed feeling and drop back into it....tell me when you feel it.”

“I’m there” he replies after a few seconds

“And now go deeper, more relaxed, more passive, the more relaxed you are the easier it becomes to merge with your new memories....and begin merging, your new memories becoming a part of you....permanent, natural, correct.”

“Merging” he slurs

“I’m going to tell you a secret now, and you’re going to think about my secret and realize that its Ok, in fact its more than ok, its probably the kewlest thing you ever heard. Are you ready to hear my secret?”

“Yesss”

“The Big C.A.T. Belongs to me, these scientists aren’t really scientists at all, they’re my ex-lovers come here to help me to help you. What do you think of that?”

“waay Kewwl !”

I smile, that’s taken care of any suspicions he might have had and niw to the fun part.

“And because you know their secret they don’t need to wear silly lab coat disguises anymore do they?”

“Nooo”

“Should I have them put their real clothes back on or would they be better stripped to the waist?”

“Strippped...with grease marks like car mmm’chanics”

Hmmm nice imagination he’s got developing there.

“I’m sure they’d take it as a compliment if you said how you felt about them.” I suggest

“Yesss”

“Remember what I said before about it being ok to explore your feelings toward men?”

“Yesss”

“How’s that been going?”

“since last upload, want it baaaad, not sure how t’ ask, m’baressed”

“You mustn’t be embarrassed; everyone in this lab has gone through a similar period of self discovery, so you can be honest with us... I’m sure if you asked me, I could point out some really hot skills that you could try out”

“’ask”

“Ok I’m going to count down and you will awaken... three, two, one, zero.”

“Wha...? Oh. Its over?”

“Yep. How do you feel?”

“Fucking horny actually. Can you give me a few minutes to umm take care of business.”

“I’m pretty sure the guys would rather watch.”

“Ok, I guess they do deserve a floor show for helping me out like this.” he replies as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

For a second I begin to entertain some doubts, Gareth’s conversion from straight to gay is going waaay faster than I’d expected. Have I inadvertently changed my soon-to-be-boyfriend’s underlying personality from introvert to blazing dance queen?

Naturally my concerns vanish soon enough as Gareth stands on the steps of the induction sphere and wanks himself all the way to orgasm. Damn he’s good! And I haven’t even loaded up that go-go dancer tape yet.

“Say Joseph...I’ve been thinking...”

“Yes Gareth?”

“I think your machine has a problem with a major side effect.”

“Can you describe the symptoms?” I ask, more than a little concerned that I’ve caused some brain damage with my antique science project.

“Yeah, I seem to be turning gay” he replies sounding embarrassed at first and then decisive “But its ok though... I’m learning so much new stuff, and the ability to feel attracted to boys is just one of them. Anyhow, now that I’ve realized what’s happening, I figure I should get some appropriate skills, so that I understand gay etiquette and shit. Do you have any umm gay specific skill tapes, If so perhaps I could try one of those next”

Phew! that’s a relief, not a real side effect, just his way of acting out my instructions.

“Sure, how does being an expert in cocksucking strike you?” I ask

Gareth’s face shows disgust for a few seconds and then gradually an intrigued look forms. Interesting; he may be predominantly gay right now but there’s definitely a core of homophobia holding out in there.

“Ok, bring it on” he replies, turning and climbing the two steps into the induction sphere

I set the process running and then clap my hands to get the others attention “Lets give him something to appreciate when he emerges, everyone strip to the waist. Harry get some of that axle grease we used to lube the sphere and rub in a few tastefully placed smears into everyone.... don’t overdo it, just enough to look sexy in a car mechanic-ish way.”

“Yes Master” they reply almost as a chorus

The cocksucker skill takes a full fifty minutes to upload, I guess its a more complex skill than the weightlifting. Whilst we waited Cadj had been poking around the old storerooms and found some old orange boiler suits that he thought might fit with the whole car mechanic role-play. I agreed and we now are all wearing the one piece overalls rolled down to the waist with nothing underneath.

Finally the Big C.A.T. slows to a stop, I’m so excited to see the result I could almost explode.

Gareth steps out looking dazed.

Swiftly I hand him his sunglasses which he instantly puts on.

“Oh god, Joseph there’s so much information swimming around my head. I never realised there was so much to it. I thought a blowjob was a simple thing.....its not, its complex, like playing a musical instrument. Quick get this memory pinned down before I forget any of it!”

“Find that peaceful state again” I order, there’s no need to bother with privacy this time.

Instantly Gareth slumps into a standing version of his trance state.

“Feel the memories merging becoming permanent, tell me when you have fully assimilated them”

“Process c’mplete” he murmurs, the words rather similar to what the robotized cocksucker might have used.

“What is the state of sexuality right now?”

“Processing...I am 77.6% gay with 15% robotically ambivalent, 5% heterosexual and 2.4% homophobic, figures rounded up to the nearest decimal.”

“Hmmm, The next time you enter the induction sphere, your new memories will wipe away the homophobia so completely that it will become incomprehensible that you should ever have acted like that. As with all robots you have an off switch that reverts you to being a normal human...I’m switching that off now.”

“Click....whoa that felt weird”

Harry comes up beside me resting a hand on my naked shoulder. “Careful Joseph, If you go much further he’s going to end up like me, Cadj and Timmy. You didn’t want another puppet-boy, you wanted his affections to be honest, remember.”

“Thanks” I reply

Harry’s right, once I’m inside someone’s head there’s this almost irresistible urge to rearrange the furniture....not clever, not clever at all.

“Gareth when you awaken you will feel the last constraints of heterosexual reserve fading away, if you find a boy attractive you will feel the need to be honest about it.” I glance over my shoulder at Harry and add...” This will be your last hypnotic session, from now on you will feel able to integrate new skills and memories without the need of any outside assistance...in fact, you will find that from now on only your own self-hypnosis will work, I will not be able to hypnotize you ever again”

I turn to Harry, “See I’m keeping my word. There’s no way I can inadvertently turn him into a sex slave now.”

“Nicely done, Master”

I turn back to Gareth “I’m counting down now, bringing you out of it for the last time… five, four, three, two, one, zero”

“Thanks Joseph, I feel much better now. I can’t wait to try out these latest skills, Its so bad I can almost taste it...and that’s definitely a taste I ever would have recognized an hour ago!”

“Go for it! We’re all friends here” I smile widely; my beloved Gareth is about to give me a world-class blowjob.

And then my tiny little fantasy world comes crashing down.

Gareth turns to Harry “I guess its time I told the truth, about why I’ve always treated your little brother like shit. I’ve been lusting after you since senior school, I...I wouldn’t let myself, I didn’t dare show the least trace of it... And there was Joseph, fully out, Queen of the playground, I hated myself for being such a coward and I hated him even more, for being brave, where I was a coward; and most of all because he could have your company any time he wanted and I couldn’t....”

Harry glances at me fearfully; I’m his Master after all, in his world I get final say on who he’s allowed to play with.

“...If you’d allow me the honor, I’d like you to be the recipient of my first ever blowjob, Harry...Harry?” continues Gareth.

I won’t cry damnit! I’m too choked to speak I just nod my head savagely. The tense worried look on Harry’s face melts away to be replaced by the sort of joyously bright smile that would but the sun in the shade. I guess my brother’s had his own secret fantasy about Gareth as well.

Gently Gareth rolls Harry’s boilersuit down past his crotch briefly revealing his engorged cock before it vanishes from view into the hungry virgin’s mouth.

Sensing my distress my other slaves close in, hugging me and caressing. After few moments I can feel Cadj’s cock nudging at my ass and my attitude changes. So what if I can’t have Gareth, I’m surrounded by slaveboys who are trying there hardest to get me sexually distracted, I can go with that.

I unclench my asscheeks and push Tim’s head toward my cock. For a while I deliberately loose myself in a four man orgy, giving myself over to the raw passion; I loose sight of Gareth and Harry my view obscured by a shaved, grease stained crotch wrapped around my face.

The orgy shifts around and I find myself face to face with Gareth, a small trail of cum dribbling from the corner of his mouth like an untidy vampire.

“I love Harry, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t figured out how to say thank you for giving me this new outlook”

We kiss, long and hard, my brother’s cum making a sticky patch on my cheek. This is my last chance to show Gareth a thing or two...he may have the skills of the best cocksucker in the world, but I have the skills of the best deep kisser and a dozen other erotic experts.

“Oh fuck you’re good” he moans in the brief time he has before I plunge back into the kiss.

My mood begins to lighten, not everything is so bad, Gareth’s sudden successful conversion to gayness has left him hungry for manlove, a need I can help fill...and Harry still belongs to me, so it shouldn’t be too hard to ease this relationship toward more of a three way thing. It will be good practice, I’ve been relying far to heavily on hypnosis lately, its not like I don’t have access to the skills I’ll need.

Someone does something really erotic, and my plans for the future, suddenly have to take a backseat for a while.

In the background the Big C.A.T. gurgles electronically to itself awaiting a new mind to teach.