The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

0.

Rodman stood up, put an arm around his rideboy and walked over to a long mirror that was attached to the motel bunkroom door. They both looked at what they saw, at what the people at the Parade would see. The tall, mighty trucker, tight jeans and open black leather vest: his heavy-set chest and arm muscles bulging from the vest, awesome six-pack. Thick, dark hair close cropped, dark glasses shading his eyes. Next to him stood his rideboy, matching colors, a head shorter than the trucker, but strong, lithe. His brown hair shaved nearly off. The trucker stepped behind him, wrapped his arms about him, pulled tightly against him. They stood there a while, just admiring what they saw. The Rodman nuzzled against the lad’s neck, whispering, “Yep, righteous dudes we are. Let’s see who else wants t’go. Brawn’ll take us down town. We’re gonna show ‘em real pride!”

1.

Brawn was behind the wheel of a white, late model, oversized SUV. His benefactor, Mr. Johns, was in the passenger seat. Both were dressed in white: Brawn in longish shorts and a muscle tee, showing his thick leg and arm muscles, the older man in white slacks and sports shirt, white rimmed sunglasses and white sneakers that all set off his tan.

The Roadsmen strode from the motel door, followed by their rideboys, all blinking against the bright sun, as they moved together from the dark motel room to pile into the van. Rodboy stayed close by his rig boss. Since seating was limited, the truckers took seats while their rideboys fitted themselves in as best they could. Rodboy got pulled up onto Rodman’s lap, facing him, his knees spread on either side of the big trucker’s brawny legs. He could feel his rigboss’s thick cock and ballsack through the thin material of his shorts and the man’s jeans. Rodney was warming up and bulging against the restraining pants. With a quick hand movement, Rodboy had opened his Roadsman’s zipper and freed Rodney. The growing cock pushed its way out while the rideboy pulled aside his shorts, allowing the erection to find its way into his willing butthole. He settled onto Rodney, still gazing into his Roadsman’s shades, seeing himself reflected back.

The big trucker whispered to him, “Lean forward, place your head on my shoulder. Listen only to the sound of my voice.” His mind faded as he relaxed against Rodman, feeling the man’s thick erection entering deeply. He told the rideboy how good he felt to service his rig boss, how this was where he belonged . . . and Rodboy believed and worshipped the muscled stud who now owned him, body and soul.

They rode clamped together for some time, Rodboy just noticing that they were coming off some hills toward a city by the coast. He had dozed off again, to the sound of Rodman’s patter and the feel of his erection, when the van stopped. They were in a parking lot and ready to disembark. The rideboy pulled himself, reluctantly, off Rodney and stood back to watch the Rodman stand. A short nod from Rodman and the rideboy licked the now semihard Rodney clean, and gently stuffed it into the man’s jeans, which he zipped closed. They exited the van to join the others.

Mr. Johns and Brawn were standing together, the older man admiring the Roadsmen and rideboys assembled there. Torkney was there, in his browns, with his tough rideboy, as was the Dragon, back with his Dragonboy, who had a couple bruises from the “guality time” he had spent with Torkney, who was the group’s acknowledged disciplinarian. Rodboy was always a bit worried when he was around Torkney, since he had overheard Big Red once tell the Rodman that he ought to loan his rideboy to Torkney for a couple weeks, “T’ season th’ boy. Ya know, he needs to get passed ‘round t’ train him righteous.”

The others were there too, Red with his Redboy, even Rigmensch, the only Roadsman in the group currently without a rideboy. Rodboy thought it would be great if they found a rideboy today for the tall trucker. He remembered how big that trucker’s cock was, rammed up his butt a few hours ago. They ought to be on the lookout for some big lad who could handle the manly roadsman. Rodman saw him staring at the trucker, “Ya remembering the righteous Bro’s cock up ya ass?” “Uh huh, and thinking that it would be great if we found a rideboy for him.” “Sure, let’s keep our eyes open. An’ maybe we can do a foursome... Nothin’ sweeter than a couple rideboys taking turns on their roadsmen.” “Sure Rodman, as long as Rodney is there for me, I’ll do whatever you want.” The big trucker stroked his rideboy’s head, “Righteous boy, righteous!”

The group of roadsmen and rideboys strode from the lot toward the main street where the Pride Day activities were being held. As they approached, they saw the usual crowds of massive leather hunks, shirtless twinks in shorts, just average guys and older queens in gaudy “finery.” The street was lined with booths for several blocks and several thousand people were milling about, seeing and being seen. At one end of the street, on a pier, there were more booths and a stage with some rock band blaring.

Rodman clamped a big hand on his rideboy’s shoulder and waded into the crowd. People naturally separated to let him through. They could sense that here was a dude to whom respect was due. He bought a couple bottles of brew and found some steps on the shady side of the street, where he and Rodboy sat to watch the passing parade.

After a while Rodman noticed Rigmensch nearby and waved him over, “Hey man, want t’ share some brew?” The roadsman nodded. “Rodboy, give the Bro your bottle.” The rideboy held his half finished bottle up; the roadsman grabbed and downed the remainder in one long gulping. Rodboy watched the big trucker lift the bottle to his mouth and suck out the beer; watched his throat muscles working; looked down to the bulge in the man’s jeans.

Rodman spoke, “Bro, we were talking ‘bout findin’ ya a rideboy—bet there must be a couple lost boys in this crowd ya could train. Somebody eager, like my Rodboy here. What’d ya think?” “Well sure Rodman, but how do we find who’s available?” The big trucker turned to his rideboy, “Go and mingle. See what you can find an’ bring us back the best. Tell him you know a trucker who needs a helper.” Rodman scooted the rideboy off the stoop with a quick swat of his big hand across the youth’s backside. Rodboy hurried into the crowd.

2.

The two roadsmen hung out on the stoop, watching the passing parade and staring back at the many men eyeing them there. After a few moments Rodman lost sight of his rideboy. Rodboy pushed through the crowd to the pier, to check out the people by the bandstand. A couple of the older men touched him as he went, but he was focused on the other young men there about, so he stood to one side and watched. There was one brawny, scruffy looking lad with longish dirty blond hair who was standing in the crowd, intently watching the band, with a back pack plopped between his feet. He was wearing jeans, a snug white teeshirt and worn sneakers. Rodboy pushed into the crowd again, to stand next to the lad. During a brief break between sets, he nodded to him, “Good tunes man. You here for the parade?” “Nay, just passing through town when I heard the band. Pretty queer bunch here!” The lad then looked embarrassed, “I mean, you just here for the music too?” “Uh huh, I’m in town with the guy I work for; he’s a trucker. Bunch of truckers were hanging out at a motel on the highway an’ decided to come to town. Wanna meet the guys? Looks like you could use a job too.” The lad nodded, Rodboy held out his hand, “My handle’s Rodboy. What’re you called?” “Mostly they call me Shaggs.” “OK, that’s good for the time being. Glad to make your acquaintance, Shaggs.”

The two young men went around the crowd, over to the stoop where Rodman and Rigmensch were sitting, two open cans from a fresh six-pack in their hands. Rodboy smiled at his rig boss, “Hey Man, want ya to meet Shaggs. He’s passing through town and could use some work helping out the truckers. Shaggs, this is my rig boss, Rodman and his bro, Rigmensch. Bud, say ‘Howdy’ to ‘em!” The lad looked at the two big truckers, a questioning look on his face, “Ah, sure, howdy guys!” Rigmensch pulled another can off the beer pack, popped it and handed it to the young man, “Here Shaggs, glad to have ya join us.” He motioned to the step below where he was sitting, “Have a seat; ya can watch from here.” Shaggs took the beer and sat; Rodboy positioned himself on the same step, but between the Rodman’s legs. Shaggs eyes opened wider as he looked at the two of them. The Rodman took a big hand and pulled back his rideboy’s head, pulling him back against his crotch. He then took his beer can and tipped it into the youth’s willing mouth, pouring beer that the rideboy gulped as fast as it was poured.

Rigmensch turned to the new young man, “He knows how to chug-a-lugg when his rig boss wants him to. That’s how it works on the Road. We truckers are Roadsmen. We hire guys like you as our rideboys, to help with the rig, do what we need done. You want t’ride with me boy?” “Well, I guess it’d be OK. What to I have to do—what do ya pay?” “That’s easy, ya gotta do whatever I tell ya and ya get room, board and spending money, depending on how willing ya are.”

Then Rodman broke in, “An ya gotta learn Roadsway—the Rules of the Road. Rodboy, tell him about the Rules.” “Sure bossman.” Turning to Shaggs, “The Rules are pretty simple. This is what my rig boss always tells me:

‘We live by the Code of the Road. Rig bosses protect each other; we know who’s going where; we cover for each other and trade off jobs and... things . . . The Code says every Roadsman is the Boss of his Rig . . . Roadsmen don’t judge each other . . . Roadsmen are righteous. . . Righteous dudes own their own rigs, run their own lives. . . Don’t take shit from nobody . . . . . . First Rule is—a Roadsman is the boss of his rig . . Second Rule—Roadsmen are righteous: everybody treats Roadsmen with Respect, ‘specially rideboys . . . Third Rule of Roadsway—Always stay ahead of Schedule, ‘cause surprises happen... . . . The Rule for Rideboys is ‘Service, Obedience an’ Silence’. That’s Roadsway Rule Four . . always submit to your rig boss in every way . . . always wear his colors . . . loyalty always . . . remember the SOS Rule, ‘Service, Obedience, Silence’!’ Ya understand?”

Shaggs looked back and forth, between the two big truckers and the eager youth who just recited for them. It seemed he saw them for the first time, again—strong dudes in charge. Rigmensch squeezed his shoulder with a big, strong hand, looking him straight in the eyes, “You come with us and there’s no going back. You game?” Shaggs couldn’t take his eyes away from the man’s stare. He nodded and continued staring. Rigmensch could see Rodman over the lad’s shoulder, smiling and nodding, as though saying, “Ya got him, now take control.”

Rigmensch squeezed the youth’s shoulder harder, “I’m gonna train ya to be a righteous rideboy. Now you listen. All I want to hear from you is ‘Yep boss.’ When I ask a question, ‘Yep boss.’ When I tell you to do something. ‘Yep boss.’ You understand?” He couldn’t take his eyes off the Roadsman; the entranced youth responded, “Yep boss.”

“My handle is Rigmensch. Your new handle is Rigboy. Got it?” “Yep boss.” “Good boy. Now Rodman and I are going for a walk. You stay here with Rodboy. Share a beer. You don’t talk to anyone, ‘cept your Bud here. He’ll tell you more about Roadsway. We’ll come back for you both before it’s time to leave. Got it?” “Yep boss.”

The two roadsman walked off, into the crowd, leaving the two rideboys and the remaining beer. Rodboy popped a can, took a swig and handed it to Rigboy. “Pretty intense, huh?” “Sure Bud, it is intense being with the Roadsmen. If you’re still here when they get back, you’re Rigboy and my Bud. Think you can handle playing with the big guys?” Nodding, Rigboy took a big swig of beer. “Gonna tell you about the other truckers. There’s Dragon and his Dragonboy—they’re into martial arts. And there’s Torkney. He’s a bad dude. He’ll whack ya hard if ya don’t pay attention. Big Red is like their leader, his Redboy is a real Bud. Ya gotta stand by your rig boss and your buds! Since you’re the new bud, the guys will harass you a little. Just focus on your rig boss and you’ll be OK. Do what he said, answer ‘Yup boss.’ and just do it!” Looking a bit confused, the new Rigboy nodded. Rodboy smiled back at him, passing the beer.

The two rideboys sat quietly listening to the music, sharing a couple beer cans. About a half hour later, the two roadsmen returned, Rodman speaking, “Mr. Johns invited us to all spend the night at his beach house. We’re going now.” Rigmensch added, “Follow.” Rodboy immediately stood, grabbing the remaining beer, pulling Rigboy up too. They followed the truckers back through the crowd and to the big white van. Rigmensch took the youth’s backpack and tossed it into the back of the van then grabbed him around the waist, pulling him into the packed vehicle. Rigmensch and Rodman ended up together on the back seat with their rideboys wedged between them. Rodman wrapped an arm around his rideboy and Ridmensch did the same with his. “Let’s show your new Bud how it’s done.”

Rodboy climbed onto his rig boss’s lap, facing him, legs on either side of the man’s strong thighs, and the big trucker wrapped his arms around the rideboy, pinning his arms behind him. Rodboy closed his eyes and began to listen to what the roadsman was saying. Rigmensch grabbed his new rideboy, turning his head with one big hand, toward Rodman, so he could focus too. “Pay attention to the sound of my voice...” the roadsman began, timing his voice to the van’s swaying and talking the two rideboys under. “Relax and listen. Here are the rules of the road...”

3.

Later the van arrived at Mr. Johns’ beach house. The two rideboys had fallen sound asleep against their roadsmen. Rodman advised Rigmensch, “When we get to the house, don’t give him any time to think. Control and conquer! His mind’s gotta be yours.” The van doors opened and the rest of the Roadsmen left.

Rodman woke his rideboy with a loud crack across his buttocks. The sound woke the new Rigboy as well. The rideboy looked around confused until his rigboss half pulled and half carried him from the van. Rodboy stretched against his rigboss and with a supple twist was off his lap and out of the van.

Rodboy could see Rigmensch with a big hand on his new bud’s shoulder, hurrying him to the beach house. Rodman caught up and tousled his rideboy’s close-cropped hair. When they got inside, he called out to Rigmensch, “Hey Bro, why don’t you let the buds get your new boy cleaned up and ready for initiation?” The Roadsman replied, “Good idea. I’ll borrow Brawn and the van, get over t’ Wolmark and buy his colors.” Then to Rigboy, “You follow Rodboy and do what he says. Understand?” “Yepboss!” “Good boy!” Rigmensch strode off, with Rodboy thinking that the big trucker had a real change of attitude, was taking over. He knew his new Bud would learn to love that strong, manly boss of his!

“Come on Bud. We gotta get you cleaned-up and neat trimmed.” The new rideboy looked a little worried, ‘What did he mean by ‘initiation?’” “Nothing to worry about. New guys always gotta show how much they want to be part of Roadsway. Let’s get you ready and then we can swim—this place has a great pool! Rigmensch is in charge now, so you just go along with the flow. Now say, ‘Yepbud’ and let’s move!” Rigboy broke into a smile and repeated, “Yepbud.”

As they walked to the bathroom suit Dragonboy joined them, was introduced, and they said their “howdy buds.” The new rideboy was only a little taken aback when the two other rideboys joined him in the shower and after watching the two lads soaping each other, allowed them to soap and scrub him. They did not seem at all embarrassed by the erections they were sporting, so he did nothing to hide what was poking from his blond pubes.

He got a little more tense when Rodboy turned on the wet/dry shaver and Dragonboy quickly grabbed him from behind, pinning the new bud against his strong chest and legs. Rodboy told him to stand still and quickly shaved him nearly bald. Then did the same under his arms and around his cock and balls, “It’s OK man, all us buds make sure we’re shaved and clean for our Roadsmen. Close your eyes and breathe deep. Just like Rodman told us. . . Let go and let your Roadsman and your buds take care of you.” The new rideboy relaxed and Dragonboy released him. They rinsed off again and the three naked youths headed toward the pool, with the two experienced rideboys on either side of Rigboy, Dragonboy’s arm around his shoulder.

They found the pool empty and swam around in the sun for a while. Then a couple more buds and some of the Roadsmen joined them. One of the Roadsmen suggested they play a game of ‘Cracko-polo’ Rodboy remarked to Rigboy, “That’s like Marco-polo, but with a Roadsman twist. Just behave yourself. Like I said, the Roadsman’ll fool around with all the buds, since you’re new here and they want to make sure you’ll fit in.”

All the rideboys were blindfolded and told to fold their hands on their chests unless swimming. The object of the game was for the rideboys to find “Safety,” which meant finding their own Roadsman. The rigbosses started moving around the pool, every once in a while grabbing a rideboy, pulling his butt out of the water and smacking it. The rideboys had to tell from the sound of the smacking hands where their own Roadsmen were. Rigboy wasn’t sure that was fair, since his rigboss was not there, but he did hear a couple more people enter the pool after he was blindfolded, so he was not sure.

The only sounds were the splashing of water and the smacking of buttocks. As rideboys found their own rigbosses the pairs would move to the sides of the pool, blindfolds off, so they could watch the game. Rodboy found his rigboss after just a couple minutes. He heard his breathing nearby and dived at him, grabbing him around the thigh. Soon they were on the sidelines, watching the game while the big trucker allowed him to nuzzle against his strong muscles.

The new rideboy was the last one in the pool. Everyone was quiet. His butt was tingling from all the times he had been grabbed and whacked. Now he was alone, but heard a splash as someone else jumped in. A few quick swim strokes and the person was next to him, brawny arms grabbing him. He was hoisted over a big shoulder, carried out of the pool and stood, still blindfolded. He kept his arms across his chest and did not move.

“Good lad! Ya didn’t try t’pair off with the wrong rigboss! Time for ya t’show ya colors.” Rigmensch pulled the blindfold off the youth, standing naked and strong before him. The new rideboy stared at the muscled tucker stud. “Th’rest of the Bros and buds are dressed an’ waiting for us.” With a strong arm across the youth’s shoulder, the naked rigboss led his naked rideboy toward the beach house great room.

4.

All the Roadsmen and rideboys were assembled in Mr. Johns’ beach house main room. Rigboy was led by his rigboss into the room where he saw the truckers and youths sitting around, drinks and sandwiches at the ready.

Big Red stood up and walked toward the two. “Well Rignensch, looks like you’ve got yourself a righteous bud. You think he has what it takes to be a rideboy?” “That’s what I’m gonna show ya all!”

All looked to Rigmensch and his charge. He grabbed the youth and pulled him close, so his tight buttocks pressed against the big trucker’s bare crotch. The trucker reached to the rideboy’s penis, grabbed it, and it popped erect. The Roadsman stroked it as he spoke, “Now this is my new rideboy. Boy, these are some of my Bros. Roadsmen like me. An’ their rideboys; they’ll be ya buds.”

Big Red spoke up, “Rideboys, ya say, ‘Hi Bud!’ now!” The rideboys snapped back, mostly in unison, “Hi Bud!” Red nodded, “Good, boys!” and looked back to Rigmensch.

“Bros, I’m just breaking this boy in. I know he’s real eager, so I’m gonna train him some, right here. Got some butt grease?” One of the big men on the couch—with bronzed muscles, a brown buzz cut and brown trousers and shirt—nodded and nudged the rideboy sitting on the floor between his legs, handing him a tube from his pocket. The boy wearing brown shirt and shorts, looked to be the youngest there, with short blond hair, blue eyes and freckles, quickly handed it off to Rigmensch and scampered back between his Roadsman’s legs.

There was a hassock in the middle of the room. Rigmensch pushed the youth down and across it. The trucker knelt behind him as he opened the tube, squirting a gob of it onto his fingers. Using one hand to hold the youth down, he inserted first one, then two greased fingers into the anus, twisting as his rideboy squirmed. Using his free hand again, he whacked the youth’s buttocks hard, a couple times, leaving a bright red handmark.

“Now ya stay still. This gonna hurt a bit, but ya get used to it quick. The more ya relax, the easier it’ll be. Listen careful. Still now! Got it?” He repeated the whack, and the sound seemed to echo in the silent room, as Mr. Johns, Brawn, the Bros and rideboys watched the training session.

The naked trucker greased and stroke his own lengthening erection. (Some trucker or other remarked a bit loudly, “Good thing that boy can’t see the size’o that...") Looking up and smirking at his Bro, Rigmensch commenting, “It’s OK, he’ll get used to it by feel...” guided his erection to where his other hand still massaged the youth loose. The cockhead pushed in as the fingers pulled out. With the new rideboy gasping, the trucker pushed his erection fully in with one hard thrust. Then he held the youth tightly to him, waiting while the new rideboy caught his breath.

“Good boy! Now ya’re a real rideboy for sure. I’m gonna start pumpin’... so breathe easy and relax... Rigrod likes tight places... Ya belong right here, makin’ me proud.” With that, the trucker started pumping his erection deep into the youth, and partly back out. Slowly at first, then faster, until, unable to hold back any more, he started pumping very fast and deep, groaning as he shot his full load into the rideboy pinned beneath him. They both stayed there together, panting, as Rigboy noticed that some of the rideboys had turned to their truckers, and were furiously sucking the Roadsmen’s cocks as a frenzy of sexual release filled the room with its pungent aroma. Mr. Johns stood to the side with Brawn, watching the display.

The new rideboy’s eyes widened at the display of the Roadsmen being serviced by their rideboys. “It’s just the Bros gettin’ off a bit, since we got ‘em in the mood. Watch ‘n’ learn. Ya focus on being a good rideboy... ya gonna love it! Ya just listen t’ the sound o’my voice...”

After a couple minutes things quieted down and Big Red resumed his master-of-ceremonies role. He asked Rigmensch and his rideboy to stand. There was an audible “Ploop!” as the big trucker pulled out of the youth. They both stood before the big Roadsman, naked and proud.

Big Red called out, “Bring the colors!” and the two rideboys Rigboy had met earlier came forward, carrying some clothing. To the order, “Gear them!” the two rideboys first helped Rigmensch into his green work pants, dark brown boots and orange tee-shirt. There was some confusion as to which one was going to stuff the big trucker’s limp but still impressively long penis into his pants. Then they handed him the clothes he had gotten for his new ride boy.

The big trucker pulled a similar orange shirt over the youth’s head, helped him into a pair of green shorts. He handed the new rideboy new brown boots and white socks, telling him, “Boot up!” The youth sat on the floor and got the socks and boots on.

The two, now similarly dressed, stood before the Roadsman and Big Red continued, “Now here before us in their colors, we welcome our Bro Rigmensch, with his rideboy, now a Roadsman complete! Ev’ry righteous Roadsman gets a rideboy! Ev’ry rideboy needs his rigboss. Ev’rybody’s happy!” Everyone cheered and someone shouted, “We need mo’ beer!”

Epilogue

A few hours later Rodboy was lacing his rigboss’s boots, the big trucker having just woken from sleeping off the party in honor of Rigmensh. They had shared a big bed with Mr. Johns and Brawn where they had all taken turns showing their host how much they appreciated him.

Rodman asked a sleepy Mr. Johns if he could borrow Brawn and the Van for a lift back to his rig. “Gotta get back on the Road. I’m taking Rodboy to State U where he’s starting college next week. Been thinking of selling my rig an’ getting a job there.” Mr. Johns smiled, “Rodman, I can’t imagine you not on the Road. There’s plenty of space in a warehouse I own nearby where you can store your rig as long as you want. You can borrow the Van a couple weeks until you’re settled in. Do what you need to do. Just remember you two are welcomed here, anytime. But, you are—like always—doing the righteous thing. Of all the Roadsmen I’ve met, you are the tops!”