The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Push: Prologue

All my stories take place in a parallel world, very similar to our own, where STI’s do not exist, so my stories are filled with practices that are highly unsafe in this world. I’m not going to say don’t try this at home, but take care of yourself.

All my characters are of legal age, and you should be, too—do not read my stories if you are under the legal age in your country/area. Any resemblance to real persons, locations, or events is entirely coincidental.

This story is brought to you by my wonderful Patrons. I love you guys!

And now, our feature presentation…

Everything started to come back into focus as my head began to clear. My ears were filled with a fluctuating humming noise, overlaid with music, degrading comments, and the various moans that accompanied the video my glazed eyes were glued to. I knew I should know what I was looking at, but I didn’t. I couldn’t remember, I was just too horny, felt too good. I just stared at the screen, unseeing, panting, and moaned softly as my fist worked over my engorged erection, gently, pushing as close to the edge as I could get without going over.

How long had I been going at it this time?

A string of drool ran from the corner of my parted lips, dripping down, down, down until it fell to splash against my chest, causing gooseflesh to spread from the point of contact. My eyes finally managed to focus on the video again, and my fist sped up as I stared at a montage of black men stroking their cocks and shooting cum into the air, onto their bodies, onto the walls, onto the floor… There were words flashing over the video, but I didn’t pay attention to those. I just watched the sexy black men.

I was so close to cumming. I wanted it so bad, but the more I held back, the more I focused on black cocks, the better it all was feeling. I glanced down at the timer… Twenty minutes into this video… But how long had the one before it been? And the one before that? And the one before that?

“Fuuck, black coooock,” I moaned stupidly, about to cum, about to lose control. It was right at that moment that a familiar little bottle popped up in the bottom corner of the screen, flashing, warning me. I let go of my cock and reached over to the little brown bottle that was sitting on my desk. I fumbled to get the cap off, emptied my lungs, held the bottle beneath my nose, and waited, my other hand going back to my cock to keep working it over.

The words “DEEP HIT” appeared on the screen and were quickly replaced with a timer counting slowly down from 10. I breathed deep, filling my lungs with the burning fumes while pacing myself so that my lungs were filled the moment it hit 0. “HOLD” appeared on the screen, followed by another countdown. I held my breath along with the countdown, the fire in my lungs rising to my brain before shooting down my spine and making my cock, though I didn’t think it possible, get even harder. I fumbled the lid back onto the bottle and gripped my cock again. It took two strokes to get myself to the edge again. I just held my cock in my fist, giving it a little squeeze every now and then to keep myself there while images of black cocks overlaid with words bore into my brain. Such dirty words. Nasty words. Exciting words.

Slut for black cock.

White slave.

Black cock is your god.

Serve black men.

Know your place.

Never go back.


Worship black men.

I let out a moan and jerked my hand away from my dick, still drooling and focusing on the screen as I gripped the armrests. I was right on the edge, my cock bouncing and leaking between my legs, the veins standing out and pulsing with the rapid beat of my heart. But the orgasm didn’t stop coming. I stared at the screen, moaning and thrashing around in my chair as my untouched cock came closer and closer to the oncoming orgasm.

I couldn’t stop it!

My eyes rolled back in my head and my cock exploded, showering my body with cum as I moaned and drooled in my desk chair. Finally spent, I relaxed into the chair, breathing heavy, and licked my lips to get a taste of the cum that still clung to them. I pulled off my headphones and looked down at myself. I chuckled stupidly at the sight of my swollen cock flopping over to the side, slowly shrinking in a puddle of cum.

So much cum.

All over me.

Looking at the clock on my computer, I realized that I’d been going at it for nearly four hours!

“Fuuuck,”I groaned. I needed to get cleaned up. I spun in the chair to grab some something from my dirty clothes hamper that I could clean up with and came face to face with my older stepbrother, Jonas. “Fuuuuck!” I cried out in a different tone, the shock clearing my mind a little faster. Droplets of cum flew through the air as my hands and arms slapped down over my body in an attempt to cover myself.

“Well well well, who knew my little bro was a slut for black dick? How fucking twisted is that?” He said, laughing, and my eyes got wider as I felt my cock start to swell again at the mention of black cock.

“J-Jonas, what are you…” I began, taking in his relaxed posture. It didn’t look like he’d just walked in. It looked like he had been standing there for a while. I took in his sneer as he watched me squirm and start getting hard again while he talked about black cock.

“Damn, bro, I’ve never heard of a white guy so desperate for black dick before, but look at you!” I groaned as he spoke, my cheeks burning red, my cock slipping around behind my hands as it expanded until it got too big and popped free, lengthening to the side. “Yeah, bro, look at how horny you’re getting when I talk about black dick! Haha, you’re such a twisted faggot.”

“Ohhhh, nooooo, Jonas, please!” I begged, not sure what I was begging him for.

“What’s that stuff you were sniffing?” He asked curiously, reaching out to take up the bottle. He unscrewed the cap, and I heard a little hiss as the pressure was released. He waved it under his nose and took a light sniff. “Woah,” he said, quickly taking the bottle away, understanding lighting up in his eyes. He grinned down at me and held the bottle under my nose. “Think about black cock, Ewan,” he instructed in a sing-song voice, mimicking the sentiments of the video he had caught me watching. I took a deep breath, obeying without intending to, and my cock throbbed harder.

“Ohhh, man, what are you doing?” I asked when he took the bottle away, my world spinning.

“I’m just talking about black guy’s and their huge dicks, bro. It looks like thinking about black cock gets you pretty excited, huh?” He asked. I was flying, beyond the stars.

“Oh, fuuck, yeah, black cock!” I was trying to keep my cock somewhat covered and get off at the same time, and as a result I was humping my hands, watching my dick leak and roll around.

“Yeah, buddy!” He egged me on, shoving the bottle under my nose a second time. “Breathe deep and keep thinking about black cock, faggot.” I was huffing from the bottle, frozen in place, my body quivering. It was too much. Overwhelmed with thoughts of black cock, I started to squirt out a second load onto my thigh.

I heard Jonas laughing as he walked away, leaving me dripping cum and out of my mind.

Spent a second time, I reminisced on how this had all begun. I found myself remembering the first time I’d gotten into hypnosis, when I was younger. I had just been bisexual then, but I’d discovered a website with hypnosis files of all sorts. I’d gone through so many, trying to find one that I liked. I had been close to giving up, only half reading each description before sampling the files that looked interesting, when I stumbled across one that was good. Really good. The hypnotist just sounded like a guy, like a bro, and had got me jerking off and into it in no time, riding the edge for the first time in my life and feeling better than I ever had before. By the time I noticed the part in the description that said you become a little gayer every time you listen, I was already hooked. For years I listened to that file over and over. I saved it to an old MP3 player that I used just for that.

And then my mom and stepdad decided to move to a different city, my senior year of high school.

I’d refused to go.

I wanted to graduate here, at my school, with my friends. So, they’d made a deal with my stepfather Abraham’s son, my stepbrother Jonas. He had his own place and was going to the local university. If he let me live there and finish school, and maybe even stay to go to university, they’d pay our rent and bills for as long as we lived together. For him, it was a financial dream come true. For me, it was a pornographic fantasy come true.

Without mom and Abraham looking over my shoulder, I could look at whatever porn I wanted. Jonas never bothered me, and soon I found a video that had me cumming my brains out after hours of riding the edge. It wasn’t subtle like the audio file I’d been listening to was. The video just called you a faggot, and I was surprised by how much I was getting off on that.

It also kept prompting me to take hits of poppers.

I’d heard of them, but never ever seen any. If they were meant to go along with this video, they had to be fantastic, so I went out and bought a bottle. But, when I’d gone back to watch the video that had gotten me so excited, it was gone.

A different video came up from the same maker, though, so I clicked it.

Slut for Black Cock

I’d never thought of black cocks in particular before, but the music had started, and the dark-skinned men filling my screen were hot as fuck. When the first prompt to take a hit came up, and I had my first hit of poppers, that was it, my fate was sealed.

I was an eager slut for black cock by the time I came.

Then I found the related videos, and I had spent the past few months watching them all and huffing at bottles of poppers, willfully deepening my addiction to black cock.

I shook my head again, my head almost clear after the forced doses of poppers, and finally grabbed a dirty towel to wipe myself clean with.

Jonas caught me!

The understanding hit me like a train, and I rocked back in the chair. He’d called me a faggot before, when we were growing up, but now he caught me. By and large, he’d never really paid me that much attention. Even after I’d moved in, he did his thing and I did mine. But now he knew that I wasn’t just a faggot, but a slut for black cock. My face burning red, I quickly put on some jogging shorts and a tank-top so I could go for a run to clear my head. Jonas was siting on the couch watching TV when I came out of my room. I walked quietly behind him, trying to get to the door before he noticed me.

“Hey, Ewan,” he said. “Take a look at this.” I looked over at the TV and froze. The screen was filled with porn. Gay porn. Gay interracial porn. On the screen, a white guy was being spit roasted between two beautiful black men. My cock went rigid in my running shorts, and Jonas got to his feet and walked up behind me. He pressed against my back, and I felt his cock running along my ass crack.

“J-Jonas!” I tried to protest.

“Shhhh, just keep watching, faggot. You like this shit, don’t you?” He asked. I answered with a resigned moan, my eyes glued to the onscreen action, my cock throbbing. “Oh, yeah, this is going to be fun.” He reached around and gave my cock a few taps, causing me to gasp. My knees went weak and suddenly having him behind me was the only thing keeping me on my feet. He stepped away, and I sank to my knees, the action on the screen disappearing behind the couch. I struggled to compose myself and get to my feet. By the time I succeeded, Jonas was back on the couch and the porn was gone. Ignored once more, I looked down at my crotch and blushed at the wet spot that had formed there. I thought about changing but decided to just go out like this instead. The idea of a black guy seeing me like this hit me right as I tried to open the door. My knees went weak and I stumbled, fumbling at the knob for a moment before finally making it out the door to try and clear my head.