The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

An uncomfortable second passed. Uncomfortable for me and Roger, that is . . . apparently not the mayor. Finally, Roger grunted. “Yeah. Whatever.” The mayor just continued smiling.

Roger pushed another button on his little machine. “All right,” he said to me. “We know you like looking at my crotch. What else do you like to look at?”

“Your butt,” I said immediately, without thinking. In shock, I tried to slam my mouth shut, but it was apparently not finished yet. “And the mayor’s butt. ESPECIALLY his butt.”

“So, you’re a butt man,” Roger said, looking pissed. Was he upset I preferred his friend’s butt? He shouldn’t have asked me, then. It was obvious that, for some reason, I was truthfully answering any questions he asked of me, whether I wanted to or not. And I most definitely did NOT.

“Yes,” I said. I thought about fleeing again, but it wasn’t a thought that seemed to produce any action.

He pressed another button, then said, “Take off all of your clothes.”

I almost laughed in his face. He might have ways of making me to talk, but there was NO WAY in the world that I would ever get naked in public, especially in a public consisting of bodybuilders and athletes of all sorts. I said as much: “No way! Are you crazy!?” But my words lacked their desired effect considering I’d just lowered my pants to the floor when I said them.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! What was going on?!? Here my body was, calmly removing my clothes while my mind was screaming for it to stop. It was like watching someone else, except I was experiencing every excruciating second of it. Within moments, I was completely nude, standing in the same place as before. My face burned as I braced myself for the inevitable laughs and catcalls, but none came. I glanced around, but nobody was even looking my way. They weren’t even moving . . . they were in the same positions they’d been in the last time I looked. Even Bruiser had the same look on his face, standing without blinking.

“Look at you!” chuckled the mayor, causing me to whirl back around to face them. “You’re just a little thing. Maybe we should throw you back!”

Tears came to my eyes, and I crossed my arms in front of my chest. From his tone, he hadn’t meant to be cruel, but I’d been hearing things like that my whole life. Roger was unsympathetic. “On your knees, runt, or I’ll show you little.”

My body complied instantly, lowering itself to the ground. The mayor and Roger came closer and stood over near me, “Nope,” said the mayor, putting a rough, warm hand on my shoulder and kneading the flesh, “there’s not much to you, is there?”

I looked away from him in shame, only to find myself eye-to-beer-can-thick-penis with Roger, who had removed his clothes. As I watched, he reached over with the hand not holding the device and started rubbing the mayor’s body through its spandex casing. “You want some of this?” muttered Roger, sneering down at my kneeling form. Apparently, although this one seemed strictly rhetorical, I was still compelled to answer his questions. “Yes,” I said.

“Take off his pants, then. With your teeth.”

The mayor laughed as I leaned forward and started nuzzling the waist of his workout pants. I couldn’t believe I was doing this in public, but then again, the public didn’t seem to be noticing much of anything at this moment. As my teeth pulled the waist of the shorts downward and my chin nuzzled his warm crotch, I couldn’t help but think that this particular command wasn’t made COMPLETELY against my will. I’m not even sure I tried to fight it.

Taking off someone’s pants—epecially pants as tight as this—with your teeth is no easy thing. I tried to use my hands to make the task easier, but I couldn’t even make them move to the vicinity of the mayor’s waist. “Look, he’s got an erection,” the mayor used in a tone generally reserved for the accomplishments of infants. “Isn’t that cute, Roger? Hey, it’s almost as big as yours!”

I blushed yet again from being exposed like this. I hadn’t been ordered to get hard. Rubbing the mayor’s smooth body with my face, smelling his clean, masculine smell . . . it was a powerfully arousing experience, no matter that I wasn’t anywhere near in control of it. Anyway, even though I had a big dick, from what I’d seen it was nowhere NEAR the size of Roger’s. Still, he responded with what sounded like jealousy. “We’ll see about that,” he said. I’d moved around to the side of the mayor’s body to continue my task, so I wasn’t facing Roger, but I heard the familiar click of his machine’s button.

The mayor sighed. “Now THAT wasn’t nice, was it?” What was Roger up to? What was going on? No time to figure it out. I had reached the mayor’s ass. And while my mouth and attention were focused on his waistband, the lower half of my face was pressed into its beautiful mounds. THIS, I thought, was heaven. But then I was moving again, around to the other side. His pants were so tight that I could only lower each side an inch at a time. The mayor stood patiently as I circled him again and again. It took several minutes for me to get the spandex shorts even past his crotch, revealing his tight, bulging jock strap. The further down they came, the harder it was, as I had to clear the meaty thighs and the magnificent ass. And while my body was focused on the logistics of the task, my mind was free to take in the majestic form being revealed.

Finally, after what seemed like both a very long and a very short period of time, I was finished. Whatever compelled me to follow the order to pull the mayor’s pants down released me, and I returned to my previous position on my knees (as per the previous order). But other than that, I was free to move, and I happily checked out the package I had just unwrapped. The mayor towered over me in all his glory, his tight-fitting shirt and jock strap still on but doing little to hide his ample assets. He looked down at me with a faintly amused smile, and I remembered my own assets, hard as a rock, hanging for the world to see. At least there, I could save SOME dignity, and I moved my hands to cover myself. It was only then that I really began to realize what Roger was capable of.

“Fuck!” I couldn’t help but yell. “What the fuck happened to me!” Hypnotism, or whatever the hell he’d been doing to me, was nothing compared to this. Looking down, I saw . . . nothing. My pubic hair was as bushy as ever, but my cock was gone! I moved my hands there, desperate to disprove what my eyes saw. And in fact, as I fumbled around, I did feel a sensation in my cock, like someone rubbing it with their elbows. But that was impossible, of course. There was nothing touching me but my own . . . fingers.

As the mayor and Roger looked on, amused, a nasty idea started to form in my head—an idea that was confirmed when my searching fingers closed on a small, jellybean-sized nub in the center of my pubic hair, and when the corresponding sensation in my phantom cock was of those mysterious elbow-sized probes encircling it.

It took only a moment’s more investigation to find my penis exactly where it was supposed to be. The problem was, it was less than in inch long. Somehow, Roger had done this!