The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Tuesday

Micah scribbled a few more lines down on Evan’s sheet, and then handed it to Rod. “Throw this in, but stick a doughnut in there as well.”

Rod stopped stirring and looked up at him, “A doughnut? We don’t have any I don’t think...”

Micah sighed, “Then get a stick of butter and two cups of sugar. That should do the trick.”

While Rod ran upstairs to the kitchen for the supplies, Micah turned back to the remaining bags. “Orson, I think, will be next,” he said. He pulled out the paper, and read that Orson wanted Lenny Silverton to become a gay prostitute obsessed with sex. When he had peeked into Orson’s mind earlier, he had saw that he had a massive crush on Lenny and hated himself for it, but Micah figured it was time to let some of those feelings out. He went over to his shelf of reagents and poured in a few tablespoons of the sands of time. “I think I know just how to solve this problem, but before that, I think Orson has some growing up to do,” Micah thought as he tossed the whole bag into the cauldron.

Wednesday

Hefting the towels into the washer, Orson threw in a scoop of soap and turned it on. Checking his watch, he saw that he still had fifteen minutes until his shift was over, so he sat down in the laundry room, hoping to avoid his supervisors so they wouldn’t give him something else to do, and gave a heavy groan. It was bad enough that he was fat and short, but being assigned a work-study position in the athletics department was just cruel. Not only did he have to pick up after jocks all day, but he had to put up with their ridicule too. The only solace he could find was the eventual hope that when he was older, he’d be the boss of these jokers and not the other way around.

That was the story of his life. Every teacher had told him and his parents, “Orson will fit in better when he’s older,” “He’ll have more friends when he’s older,” “He’ll get taller when he’s older.” So far none of them had been true, he was still the short, overweight outcast he’d always been. But he knew someday it would come true. One day, he would be a successful CEO, and all of these jocks would his janitors, cleaning up after him. At least when he was older. He heaved another sigh, and decided to go sign out with his supervisor.

Orson headed straight over to the football field and was the first one to get there. He climbed up the bleachers, hoping the football team wouldn’t notice him or his friends as they arrived. He was sure that they would receive a whole new round of teasing, people pointing at them behind their backs, calling them a bunch of faggots who watched the football team to get off. It wasn’t the talk that humiliated him really, it was the fact that they were right, or at least they were in Orson’s case. He did love watching the football team, and they had been in many of his fantasies, but none of them would ever so much as look at him. He was too short, and too fat, and there was nothing he could do about that.

Evan and Bryce, sporting a fresh black eye, arrived a few minutes later, but Orson didn’t say anything. He just watched Lenny, the quarterback, run back and forth, his ass encased in those spandex pants that left so little to the imagination. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Part of him just wanted to revel in the irony. Finally, instead of Lenny conquering woman after woman, men would start conquering him. But really, Orson knew that what he really wanted was to find Lenny tomorrow, pick him up, and fuck his ass, while Lenny bit his pillow and squealed with lust. Just the thought of it gave him a hard on. Not that he could ever let anyone know. The idea of his friends finding out about his fantasies scared him more than anything. If he couldn’t have a man like Lenny, at least he could have friends. So he endured the name calling, hating it even more because all of it was true, and he couldn’t stop.

One by one, they all got bored of the practice, but Orson stayed for the whole thing, thankful that none of the jocks noticed him. Secretly, he kind of wished they would notice. At least then he could be honest about his infatuation. But they all left practice oblivious, or if not oblivious, no one cared what a nerd like Orson thought about them. Lenny’s latest catch, one of the cheerleaders named Harriet, came running up and planted a huge kiss on his lips, at which point they started making out in front of the entire team. After they had gotten tired of the catcalls, Lenny pulled her over to his car, where they took of for his apartment. Frustrated and lonely, Orson wandered back to his room, laid back on his bed, and jacked off imagining Lenny as a gay bottom boy. After he came, he rolled over, still unsatisfied, and went to sleep.

Thursday

Orson woke up, cursing, and pulled down the shade of the window next to his bed. He didn’t need the sun making his hangover even worse. He rolled over and tried to fall back asleep. He had been having an amazing dream about this hot college football player. In the dream, the jock walked up to him, pushed Orson over his motorcycle in the middle of a parking lot and started fucking his ass. As the memory came back to him, Orson reached around and felt the end of the dildo still in his ass from his jack off session the night before. It was kind of hard with his gut in the way, but he began fucking himself, trying to get his dick hard as he imagined the hot jock reaching under and jacking him off. But of course, it wasn’t cooperating this morning; between his blood pressure, his weight, and his age, the old guy just wasn’t working like he used to. With a grunt he pulled the dildo out of his ass, and rolled up to a sitting position.

Once the world had stopped spinning, he got up and lumbered into the bathroom to piss. He thought about taking a shower, but his pits didn’t smell that bad. His graying beard was a little tangled, but he liked it when it looked a little nasty. Looking in the mirror, he was amazed at how the years had really taken a hit on him. He was just pushing fifty now, and the large number of wrinkles showed it. He had once prided himself on being a heavily muscled biker, but his muscles had long been covered with a layer of fat, stretching his already faded tattoos. He went back into the room and pulled a cigarette out of his jeans pocket, opened the window, and watched the traffic below, mentally undressing all of the young studs enjoying the early fall sunshine. When he had flicked the butt out the window, He went back inside and looked at the time. It was only early afternoon and he was still horny, so if he hurried, he could make to the local college before the football team started practice.

He picked up the clothes he had worn the day before and put them on: a stained fading and worn Harley Davidson t-shirt, some jeans, his leather chaps, and a leather jacket. As a last second thought, he picked up the dildo and shoved that in place too. Picking up his helmet on the way out, he hopped onto his bike and took off for the nearby campus, enjoying the vibration of the dildo the whole way.

Dumping the bike nearby, he snuck into the stadium and crawled underneath the bleachers just in time for the first few guys to arrive. Orson started rubbing himself through his jeans, but as he did, he felt an odd sense of déjà vu overcome him. He thought he recognized a few of these guys, and it seemed like he had taken classes with a few of them, but that was impossible-he was probably twice their age if not more. Putting the thought out of mind, he sat down on his jacket, pulled out his dick and started rocking back on the dildo, shivering every time it ran up against his prostate. Soon the rest of the team arrived, and they started practice.

As he was trying to bring his flaccid dick to life, Orson noticed that they had left their bags on the first few levels of the bleachers. He quietly snuck up there, careful to make sure no one was looking and pulled one of the bags underneath with him. Scrounging through it, he found exactly what he had wanted: one of the player’s dirty jockstraps. He brought it to his nose, inhaling the sharp musk of sweat and piss, and felt his cock start to rise underneath his gut. After putting the bag back, he hurried back to his jacket, dropped his pants, and slowly started fucking himself with the jock draped over his face, moaning quietly. The jocks on the football field began a scrimmage, and Orson watched their tight asses as they ran across the field.

Taking a deep breath of the jock, he imagined that he was in the locker room with all of those muscular men in their prime. Then one of them pushed him onto a bench, and rammed his dick up his ass while another one started fucking his face, calling him an old pig as he ground the smells of stale cum and sweat, the essence of their youth, into his face and beard. Then the other players started rubbing their dicks all over him, taking their turns at either end, the rest of them laughing at his age and shriveled dick. Then one of the linebackers came up behind him, and shoved his hand of his ass. Orson started pistoning up and down on the dildo faster, imagining the man’s fairy forearm scrapping against the sensitive tissue of his ass. With his other hand the linebacker started slowly stroking Orson’s cock as he squirmed on the bench, aching for release. Then with a muffled grunt he rammed the dildo up as far as he could get it and shot all over his shirt and beard. He scooped up what he could and ate it, wishing he could be eating the loads of all those young masculine men instead. His old, slightly sour cum just didn’t compare to their sweet semen.

Keeping the dildo in, he pulled his pants back up, shoving the jock into his pocket, but kept his dick out, creeping farther forward to watch the rest of the practice. But as he did, he couldn’t help but be struck by feelings of recognition and nostalgia. The idea that he had attended this school wouldn’t get out of his mind, and the more he thought about it, the more confused he felt. His body began to feel a little unnatural, as though he hadn’t always been old and fat. But that was silly. While he might have been young once, he had always been a biker traveling the country, looking for hot masculine men to fuck him. But with his increasing age, he couldn’t work like he used to, and money was becoming a little tighter. He had a friend that was trying to set up a job for him at a local steel mill, but he didn’t have very high hopes. He thought that it might be time to move on, but something held him in this town. It might be the two college campuses, and its large population of single men. He’d always been attracted to young college stallions and muscle bears, and this seemed like the best place to find guys to watch, and even a few who would fuck him. But sadly, not many people were interested in him now that he was getting older. He might pick up a trick every now and then, but it was getting harder and harder to get anywhere with that either.

The coaches called an end to the scrimmage and Orson retreated back out of sight. The team packed up and was on their way a few minutes later, one of the members puzzled by a missing jock strap, but figured it would turn up eventually. When the field was clear, Orson climbed out from under the bleachers, took another sniff of the jock, then headed back to his bike. The sun was just beginning to set, and he figured he could probably make his way over to Pigtown. Out of curiosity, he picked up a free magazine of job listings and flipped through it. His savings was getting low, and unemployment had run out on him last month. Food stamps helped, but he figured he could go look at a couple of construction yards the next day, but it was hard working with so many hot young men. His leers had already gotten him fired from several jobs, but he couldn’t help it. If they didn’t want to be stared at, they shouldn’t be wearing those wife beaters and those tight jeans showing off the bulges in their crotches. They wanted people to look, as long as they weren’t him. He kicked a mailbox as he walked by, frustrated and angry. “The world is meant for the young,” he thought, and threw the booklet into the gutter.

He hopped on his bike and started it up, and considered going out on the road again, but he didn’t know where to go. Hoping to at least drown his miseries in a couple of beers, he decided to head over to Pigtown anyway. At least watching a bunch of masters manhandle their slaves might make him feel a little better. He sped off towards the harbor, imagining that he might be able to find some hot guy willing to fuck his ass too.

He pulled up into the near empty parking lot half an hour later, and saw that even though the club was open, it wasn’t very busy and given that it was early on a Thursday, he wasn’t very surprised. As he hopped off his bike, another biker pulled up as well with a massive man sitting behind him. It was one of the sluttiest pigs Orson had ever seen. Almost every inch of the guys body was covered in tattoos and piercings. The guy wasn’t wearing a shirt, and on the guy’s back he could see the top of a forearm pointing forwards his ass, and the words “BIKER SLAVE” printed across his upper back. They got off the bike, the biker taking a leash attached to the pig’s collar, and started over towards the entrance, but the biker stopped when he say Orson staring.

“You want a piece of him man?” the biker called, startling Orson and making him blush.

He tried to stammer and answer, but the biker just laughed and hauled his slave over towards him.

“How about feeding him some piss? He said, then looked over at his slave, “Would you like that Pig? You want this guy’s piss?”

Pig nodded anxiously and got down on his knees in front of Orson, who tentatively pulled out his dick. Luckily, he did have to piss, so after that imagining he was standing in front of a urinal, he let the stream go into the pig’s mouth, who drank it down like it was the best thing he had ever tasted, licking around Orson’s cock and kissing the tip when he was finished.

With that, the biker hauled him off again saying, “That’s enough of an appetizer Pig. I’m already renting you out as a urinal, so you’ll be getting plenty more of that.” The pig snorted in reply, and Orson swore that if he had had a tail, it would have been wagging back and forth. He finished securing his bike, and then followed the pair inside.

The front room was pretty much empty. The music was playing, but quieter than it would be later that night. Orson wandered over to the bar and greeted Jim, the bartender, who poured him a pint of beer and set it in front of him. He took a long swig set it down, and then looked up when a stud he had never seen before sat down a few stools away. The man was massive, and Orson imagined that he probably could have competed as a body builder. He was clad in a tight fitting spandex top that left very little to the imagination, his biceps bursting out of the armholes and every line of his pecs and abs standing out. He was wearing jeans that looked a few sizes to small and sported a bulge that made Orson’s mouth water just thinking about it. But the best part was the green handkerchief that was hanging out of his left pocket, which meant that if the price was right, the stud would go down for anybody. He wasn’t too boyish either, with a strong chin covered in a day’s worth of stubble, his head shaved, and a smirk that showed he knew he was in high demand. The bartender set a shot glass down in front of him and filled it with some rum. He caught Orson staring at him, downed the shot and then winked at him. Taking that to be an invitation, Orson got up and took a seat next to him.

“Hey, I’m Orson.” he stuttered, unsure of what to say, “I haven’t seen you around here before. You new in town?”

“Nah, I just never knew about this place. The name’s Lenny. So, from the way you were staring at me a moment ago, I take it you see something you’d like?” he winked, watching Orson’s face turn red, “Well, if you want a blow job, that’s one hundred, fucking me is two hundred, and everything else is negotiable.”

Feeling more brave, Orson replied, “That all sounds fine and good, but what I really want is your dick up my ass. How much for that?”

Lenny thought for a moment, and then answered, “I’ll do it for seventy-five with a first time discount. Cash, up front of course.”

Orson pulled out his wallet and dug out a few wrinkled twenties, and handed it to him. “I want it right now, in the backroom,” he said and then led the way. The backroom was also relatively empty, aside from Pig, who was chained to the wall, eagerly awaiting his treatment that night. Orson shucked his clothes and then hopped into a sling. Lenny saw the dildo still up his ass and laughed, “Well I guess I don’t have to worry about opening you up.” The dildo came out with a pop, and Lenny took his dick out of his jeans. “So, big spender, who would you like it? Hard? Fast? Slow? Gentle?”

“Long. Fuck me longer than you’ve ever fucked anyone.”

Lenny laughed, “That’s a tall order, but I’ll do my best.” He came around to Orson’s head and added, “How about you lube this guy up for me?”

Orson was flabbergasted. The bulge had been huge, but he hadn’t expected the monster staring him in the face. The thing must have been at least ten inches long and as thick as a beer can only semi-hard. Just the sight of it filled him with lust. He sucked as much of it as he could into his mouth, and ran his tongue over the parts he couldn’t swallow, and the more he licked it, the larger and thicker it got. When it was good and hard, Lenny went back around and slowly drove it into Orson’s ass, making him moan as it touched places he had never felt before.

“Man you have a nice ass. I can’t wait to fuck it.” Lenny said as he started pulling in and out. “Yeah, a mighty fine ass.”

Orson started trying to push as much of the dick into his ass as he could, swinging himself to meet Lenny’s thrusts and clamping down on the dick, loving how much it stretched him out. He started jacking off his dick in time with the thrusts, stopping only to lick the precum off his fingers. Lenny started pounding harder, and all Orson could think about was how much he wanted this amazing cock up his ass forever. He had never had such a fantastic fuck before.

Before he knew it, he came all over his chest, but Lenny just kept on pounding away, “Cumming already?” he said with a chuckle, “I’m just getting started down here.” And he slammed into Orson’s ass, sending a blast of pleasure to his groin. Amazingly, he felt his dick twitch and start to harden again-an oddity since he hadn’t cum twice in a row since he was thirty. Just being fucked my Lenny made him feel like he was absorbing some of his youthful essence into him, and all he wanted was more. He wanted that cock to grow more, fuck his guts into knots, maybe even long enough come poking out of his mouth. Lenny slowly increased his speed, and by this time, Orson’s cock was hard and dribbling again, the pleasure from his ass resonating everywhere in his body, the blood singing in his ears. With a grunt, Lenny slammed into him and shot a massive load of cum up his ass, Orson could almost imagine it coating the insides of his body as his dick came a second time, an even larger load that shot him in the face. With a groan Lenny pulled out, wiped off his dick and pulled up his pants, thanked him for his business and left Orson to recover in the sling.

His ass empty and dribbling cum onto the floor uncontrollably, he tried to catch his breath. The afterglow was fantastic, never had he felt so alive and young before. He needed to feel like that again. Getting out of the sling, he checked his wallet and saw that he had spent almost all of his cash on Lenny. But as the euphoria ebbed away he was left feeling only exhaustion and age, and too tired to even consider more sex, he dropped a few bills at the bar and headed back to his apartment.

Laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his largest dildo crammed up his ass, he tried to stop thinking about Lenny, but the lustful voice in his dick was demanding more. Orson knew he couldn’t afford it; there was no way he could keep shelling out that kind of money for sex. His last thought before drifting off to sleep was the hope that he could find an alternative means of payment. Orson tossed and turned the whole night, images of Larry dancing just out of reach, a new victim of unfettered lust.