The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

To my surprise, Martin and Scott had “watched”; and hadn’t have sex with each other.

I wasn’t surprised that they had watched, that much was a given. What surprised me was that they were both still fully dressed. In terms of getting naked, each of them was a mid-kiss Houdini.

Robert and I cleaned up, and the four of us went back to the bunk houses. Marin and Scott were quiet all the way back.

Thursday, I was back at the boat dock. Cindy showed me how to stack life jackets so they dried properly—and gave me a mini-course on sailing. It was fun to take a little sailboat around the inner buoy, and back to the dock. After an hour of practice, I could even land the little boat with only a little banging of the hull.

Martin was quiet all day.

I asked Martin if everything was ok. He shrugged, and went back to work.

Later, I asked Robert if Martin seemed upset.

Robert gave me a funny look, “I keep forgetting that you are younger than I.”

I asked him what he meant. Robert said, “Martin is not ‘upset’. Martin is emotional, because he is confused. Scott is the one that is ‘upset’. Scott is upset because Martin is confused.”

Robert wouldn’t explain any further. He just cautioned me to “give them both ‘space’” and “nothing we say or do will make this easier for anyone”. Everything would work out “one way or another”.

Friday, morning I was on the boat dock. Friday afternoon, I was scheduled to help lead a hike.

Before lunch, I went back the bunk house to change into hiking clothes. On the way out, I realized that there was something different in the bunk house. Martin’s bunk was stripped of sheets and blankets, and his lockers were empty and standing open.

Martin was gone.

I found Scott in the dining hall. I asked him, “What happened? Where is Martin.”

Scott gave me a tight little smile, and said, “A few days ago, Martin got an email from an ex—girlfriend. He decided that he would be happier in town.”

I asked Scott if he was ok.

Scott gave me a hard look; a look that wasn’t unkind, but a look that was serious. He gave me a little smile, but he said, “You are very sweet. Please, leave me alone.”

I could tell that Scott was upset, and there was nothing that I could do to help. I sat down next to Robert. I told him, “Martin is gone. An ex-girlfriend emailed him. Martin is gone. Martin is ... gone.” I don’t know why I said “Martin is gone” three times. It seemed appropriate, somehow.

Robert stared down the table at Scott for a few seconds, then looked back to me. He shrugged with his shoulders and eyebrows, and went back to the conversation he had been having when I sat down.

After lunch, Robert took me outside, “I could see this all unfolding. Martin was playing; pretending to be happy. Scott was in-love. Scott was pretending that everything was going to be fine.” Robert was quiet for a moment. He went on, “They are both nice guys. They just need to be with different people.”

I told him I didn’t understand.

Robert smiled, and told me to not worry about Scott, “Scott is a lot stronger than he seems.”

Robert got a worried look on his face, “Which brings up an interesting, awkward point. In terms of ‘night archery’; we have been ‘watching’ each other. With Martin gone, do you still want Scott to ‘watch’? It is ENTIRELY up to you.”

I blinked, “I, honestly, haven’t given that any thought.” I didn’t know.

Robert interjected, “You don’t have to make up your mind right now.” Robert went on, “Also, no night archery tonight. There is a staff party tonight, and Scott needs to be with lots of people. We’ll go to the party, too. Archery can wait.”

I had a lot to think about during the afternoon hike.

Saturday, Big Bear looked the three of us up.

Big Bear started by saying, “This is ABSOLUTELY none of my business, but ...”

He asked how the three of us were doing with Martin leaving? He asked Scott especially.

Scott said that he was fine, and would continue being fine, “I just hurt. And, the worse part about the hurt is—that I know I will be fine in a couple of weeks.” He paused, and continued, “Does that make any sense?”

Big Bear said, “Yes, it does.” He added, “We’ve all been there. I see it every summer, too many times.” He added, “If you want something, or need something, or need time off, or ... whatever, let me know. That goes for all three of you.”

As he turned to leave, I blurted out, “How did you know? We didn’t tell anyone. We were being sly, at least I thought we were being sly.”

Big Bear gave me a bemused look, “I have been working here for thirty years. I have been the camp director for twenty of those years. I hire a lot of younger workers. Over the years, I have learned how to tell when my employees are dating each other.” Big Bear smiled, shrugged, and walked off.

I turned to Scott, “Night archery tonight. You are invited—to watch. But only if we can watch you, too.”

Sex that night was wonderful. Robert fucked me slowly. I was stroking myself. Scott stroked himself. Everyone watched everyone else.

There was none of the tension that had been been in our group for more than a week. I hadn’t realized how much Martin’s bad-attitude had effected night archery. This entire event was ... freeing, somehow. Much more pleasant.

Scott was kneeling two feet away, practically touching us. He was smiling; together with friends.

One hand on my dick, I used my free hand to touch Scott’s leg. Nothing overt, merely friendly. Scott smiled at me, and draped his free arm across Robert’s back. Scott smiled at us both.

Robert said, “This is great. Let’s stretch it out. More lube.”

Scott doled out lube for my dick and his dick. Then he squirted some on my ass and Robert’s dick.

Robert let out a little sigh, “Nice.”

We stroked and fucked, and enjoyed ourselves for a few minutes. Scott draped his arm over Robert’s shoulder again. I took that as a cue to touch Scott’s leg.

We went on like this for five or ten minutes. Then, Robert sped up. Scott and I stroked faster. Our breathing became faster. Robert’s “fucking” became “pounding”. Scott and I stroked with frantic haste.

Because Scott’s situation with Martin, Scott had had a “dry spell” of about a week. He was ready first; he made the first grunting sounds. Robert and I quickly followed suit.

Scott squirted. Big gobs of jizz flew out and smacked me on the side. Some flew right over me, and landed on the plywood deck with a “splat”.

Robert trembled. Grabbed me with bruising ferocity, and filled the condom.

I was last. My two friends’ release pushed me quietly over the top; a quiet sigh and squirt. For me, the world vanished. There was nothing, except pleasure and joy.

We were breathing hard. Laying in a pool of jizz.

I parroted Robert’s words, “Nice.”

“Yeah,” Scott agreed, “Nice.”

As we lay on our backs, Scott was in the middle. Gently, quietly, he kissed me then Robert on the lips. They weren’t aggressive kisses. They weren’t even sexual kisses. They were friendly kisses. One quick peck for each of us.

Then he was on his feet, “Come on guys. Back to the bunk house. We all need showers. Tomorrow is a work day.”