The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Village Square, Greenwich Village

Cameron sat at his table in the Vintage Cafe, reading the paper as he awaited his order of pancakes with maple syrup. He turned to the second page, irritated by the simultaneous rustle of six identical newspapers.

As usual his loving harem were copying his every move, eating what he ate, reading what he read, their heads connected to his with threads of crackling blue energy.

The paper featured several pages on what they were calling “The Jumanjii Rampage” with full colour shots of various heroes doing battle with the Natural History Museum’s re-animated fossils.

The most burning question was still a mystery of course.. who was responsible for the incident? The mutant the press were calling “Jumanjii” named after a popular film.

Typically the editorial was a homophobic froth which managed to miss the point that it had been gay mutants who had stopped the creatures...most of the creatures.. There was still the skeletal Pterosaur nesting on top of the Chrysler Building.

Cameron glared at the third boy, the harem also glared, No.3 blushed and lowered his eyes. He was the newspaper editor’s 18 year old son and the reason that the Daily Trumpet had decided that gay mutants and one Cameron “Blu Static” Dunbar in particular, were the root of all evil.

Jose arrived with the first stack of pancakes, knowing Cameron’s group well, he knew to serve Cameron first. If he didn’t the recipient would simply have passed the food up the table to his master.

“I watched the game last Saturday, nice footwork, I got money on Team Blue for the finals” congratulated Jose

“Thanks” replied Cameron proudly.

Having a mental link to his harem gave them a distinct advantage on the 5-a-side soccer pitch, Team Blue as they were called, had made short work of the local league and were on the verge of national competition.

Local sponsorship had been substantial, and now largely paid the cost of maintaining his boys.

“Can I have chocolate sauce with mine?” Asked No.5

The rest of the harem looked at their brother with a mixture of shock and envy. Five was exhibiting independent thought, that meant the gradual genetic changes that proximity to Cameron caused, were nearly complete, Five was nearly 100% gay at the cellular level.

Cameron sighed, maturation always caused problems, losing Five would be doubly so, aside from being a damn good mid-fielder, Five was a really good cocksucker.

The real problem would come when Five left, the energy thread that linked him to Cameron would be flapping around loose doing electrical damage to any nearby metal surfaces until it fastened onto a new number Five,

Cameron had no control over it and invariably the new one’s family or friends always had ...issues... With their son’s new persona, sexual preferences and inevitable mutation.

The current No.3 was the classic case, his father had gone to court trying to prove that he was not legally competent, using legislation designed to combat cultist influence. Only No.3’s vehement assurances that he was with Cameron of his own free will and the slightly lucky fact that he’d recently turned 18 (and was financially secure) had saved the day.

“Two, go get Five his sauce” ordered Cameron tucking in to the stack of pancakes.

“Yes Cam”

“Three, what have we got to do today?

“An hour warming up, an hour in the gym, 11:00am quality time with parents of number one, 2:30pm attend Meta-human Studies at the university, 8:00pm sponsorship appearance at Finnegan’s Car Retail, 9pm onwards cruising and making out 11pm throwing up.”

“Hey!” Cameron objected

the harem smirked collectively, Cam hated it when they teased him, teasing was his own worst habit and always seemed the first trait the harem picked up.

Without warning the cafe took on the appearance of a Hawaiian cocktail bar, the tables remaining in position, but taking on the illusion of bamboo, coffee cups becoming cocktail glasses, the walls fading out to show a beach scene filled with Speedo wearing beach lads.

“Hi Kenny” said Cameron, addressing the wetsuit wearing, long haired version of himself who had just walked in.

“Hi Master..I mean..Hi Cam.” replied the boy blushing prettily, the skin tight cloth showing his partial erection in interesting detail.

Kenny had been his original Number Two, he’d been 25 stone of flab with a prominent nose and dark greasy hair, a month living in the energy field of Blu Static had gradually replaced his genes with Cameron’s, gifting him with a muscular physique, a hansom action hero face, short blond hair and a powerful gay libedo, just like his Master’s.

“Just thought I’d pop by and tell you about my new job, The Stonewall’s going to do a Hawaiian theme night every fortnight, I’m doing the decor. What do you think?” boasted Kenny

“Nice illusion, but can you keep it going for a whole evening?”

“Easily” replied Kenny, causing one of the lifeguards to wander out of the wall, walk over to Cameron and appear to kiss him, hands roaming over him.

“Hey, Hey! None of that in the cafe!” protested Jose from behind the counter

“Sorry” replied Kenny, waving the entire illusion away.

“I was about to take the harem for a workout, tag along?” suggested Cameron

“Sure”

As one, the harem got to their feet and followed Cameron out onto the sunlit sidewalk.

Cameron’s eyes widened in surprise as No. 5 walked past him, the boys usually followed, guided by his choice of direction. It could only mean that Five was a lot further along than he’d thought.

Five walked to where Kenny was standing putting a gentle hand on his shoulder

“I...I liked your illusion. Could you take me there again? just you and me? My name...is... Mark” said the ex-Five seeming to struggle to find his own words.

With a thunder clap the crackling static-like energy leash that linked Cameron to Five snapped loose lashing around until it grounded against the lamp post, burning into the paintwork and shorting out the bulb.

Knowing what had just happened Kenny turned to his ex-master

“Don’t worry Cam, I’ll look after him until he’s re-adjusted. Kind of flattering that he’d give you up for me.”

“Have fun guys” replied Cameron with mixed emotions, seeing one of his boys regain their individuality was always special, but it also meant the whole cycle was about to begin all over again.

Kenny created another beach illusion that seemed for a moment to replace the whole scene, 6th Avenue becoming a straight beach, the far side buildings vanishing into rolling waves. Kenny held both of Mark’s hands and then the illusion contracted back in, vanishing and taking both boys with it.

Cameron smiled, they were still there of course, Kenny had control over what people saw but not what they heard...the sounds of kissing and the occasional moan of pleasure were easily heard.

A few moments later the Team Blue number 5 shirt materialised in mid-air and drifted to the ground, with a flick of thought Cameron had No. 1 pick it up.

Basketball court, opposite the vintage cafe

Taylor dodged past Max and Dale, jumping and throwing the perfect basket. Dale scowled, it had been his mistake that allowed Taylor to get past. Positions were reversed and it was Dale’s turn to shoot.

Dale barged past, elbowing Taylor in the ribs before shooting his own basket.

Sometimes Taylor wondered why he bothered with the two dickheads. Their only good points were that they lived downstairs and liked a game of basketball, his favorite sport. Even then they took every opportunity to treat him like he was just a convenience to them, and played the game as a full contact sport.

It was Max’s turn, just as he began his run in something weird happened, the basketball morphing into a brightly coloured beach ball, the asphalt court taking on the look of beach sand and Taylor’s jeans getting replaced by pink thong Speedos.

Dale pointed at Taylor and began laughing, until he noticed that he and Max were similarly dressed.

The beach vanished again seeming to contract toward a point between the florist’s and the Vintage Cafe opposite.

Taylor raced through the wire mesh gate of the basketball court and out onto the sidewalk, Dale and Max close behind.

“Hey, its that Blu Static super-faggot”

“Look at that! One of those lightning bolts has come loose, its trashed the lighting column.”

“kewl”

“That means he’s looking for a new victim to turn into a shirtlifter.”

“I bet Taylor wants to be a faggot”

“yeah? Well I bet he’s already a faggot”

“I am not!”

“I know a way to test it, if we throw him over there and he doesn’t get zapped we’ll know he’s gay”

“What the!” Taylor felt a heavy hand push him forward, he stumbled staggering to get his balance, already past the central road marking, he finally stopped and turned to glare at the two jerks.

“You fucking morons!” yelled a furious Taylor

“Haw, Haw, you was wrong Dale, he wasn’t gay”

“Is now though, cya round faggot!” said Dale turning to run after his brother

Taylor moved toward them intent on giving them a good kicking only to stop dead. What did they mean “he was now?”

He glanced behind him, it seemed as if the whole street was looking at him expectantly. It was then that he noticed the hair thin strand of energy that seemed to start at his forehead and dance its way toward the mutant called Blu Static.

He walked over to stand with the others, the ones who like him had electrical energy crackling from their heads. He didn’t really think about why, it just seemed the right thing to do.

“Hello, I’m Taylor”

“I’m Cameron, do you understand what just happened to you Taylor?” said Blu Static

“I got too close didn’t I. Am I turning gay?” asked Taylor, curiously the thought of becoming gay was not bothering him as much as he thought it would.

“Yes, you are. You’re part of the team now, you’ll be with us until you are fully gay, you’re our new No. 5″

One of the others passed him a blue shirt with his number on the back. Without thinking about it he took off his T-shirt and pulled on his team shirt, dropping the old one in the gutter.

“Max and Dale, will need to be punished, for what they did. Don’t worry we’ll see to it together.”

“How did you know their names?”

“I know everything you know, Five”

“Oh, ok.” said Taylor “I don’t feel very gay yet”

“Give it time Five, give it time”

Cameron started down the Avenue at a jog heading past the Barnes Noble bookshop and then left toward Washington Square.

Taylor followed, he needed the exercise and Washington Square was a good place to run in. Running with Team Blue would give him someone to compete with. It was his own idea and it seemed quite logical.

The jogging was the best exercise he’d had in a long time, allowing himself to relax into the rhythm of it he could almost do it on autopilot without needing to think much at all.

A clock chimed in the distance, bringing him back to himself, he was supposed to have a dentist’s appointment across town..in about 3 minutes... But it wasn’t important, and besides they were nearly at the gym for their workout.

The gym was a surprise. Despite living in the village all his life Taylor had not known that it existed, buried in the basement of a non-descript building, the roar and vibration of the subway seeming to indicate that it was right behind 4th street station.

In one corner a group of Naked Boy Singers were doing reps, a parrot perched nearby counting the exercises, one in particular caught his eye, blue eyed perfection on legs. Was that it? My first gay thought? He wondered.

A person that looked to be the campest weightlifter in existence threw a white and lilac towel over his shoulder and minced over to where the Team waited

“Coach Bright, this is Taylor my new No.5, he’ll need a membership card, and We’ll need exclusive use of the gym for a while. Also we have a couple of candidates for your “special” program, Dale and Maximillian Grant...they thought it would be a laugh to push Taylor at me when I had an energy leash flapping around loose.

“Hello Darling, you can call me Serge” Coach smiled wickedly, eyes dancing and then turned toward the gym’s other occupants.

“yoo hoo! Jack darling, Sorry guys, Gym’s closin’ for an hour, you can have a full refund or a week’s free pass, that ok?”

“Sure Coach” yelled back the big Canadian and after a quick conference “we’ll take the free pass”

“Thanks boys, and Paul darling, see me later, maroon is, SO, not your colour”

“Don’t listen to him, you’ll be wearing a pink too-too if has his way” smirked one of the others.

“Go on now, Shoo!” said the Coach throwing his towel at them good naturedly as they headed to the door.

Team Blue spread out each choosing a piece of equipment to work on. Taylor chose a rowing machine, stripping off and placing his clothes in a neat pile next to the machine. Working out in the nude would ensure his cloths didn’t get sweaty.

After ten minutes of vigorous rowing he decided it was time to move to the next bit of equipment. It seemed that all of them had had the same idea as they each swapped to the next bit of equipment at the same time.

He stopped, looking confused, it was odd they all had moved at the same time like that, without any signal.

“Don’t worry, you’re just beginning to think like Cameron, we all do it. If Cam feels like changing to a different exercise we feel the same” explained Three

Taylor eyes widened, it was true then, he was being changed, all his decisions had seemed natural, but now he doubted it.

He clambered onto the bench press, his mind in turmoil, was he still the same person? If the things he liked and the things he wanted to do were just copies of someone else’s desires what was left of the real Taylor? Am I really me?

After twenty repeats he got up and moved toward the centre of the Gym, the other guys were doing the same and that meant it was another of Cam’s ideas, and not his at all.

“Ok guys, Taylor’s having trouble adjusting, group hug!” instructed Cameron

Feeling awkward Taylor put his arms around Cameron, the others surrounded him and hugged, their warm skin touching him all over.

It was strange, but suddenly he felt as if he belonged, the others all understood what he was going through, they’d all been through it, hadn’t they. They barely knew him and yet they accepted him into the team without question.

The warm pressure of their arms felt good, he looked up into Cameron’s eyes, the energy link crackled between their foreheads seeming brighter and more energetic over such a short distance.

He licked his lips, he could feel it now, the desire for this, it didn’t matter that Cameron was male, the distaste of gay sex just wasn’t there any longer. Hesitantly he leaned closer letting his lips brush against Cameron’s.

Cameron’s hand cradled the back of his head pulling him deep into that kiss. All around, the others were running fingers over his exposed skin sending shivers of delight as gentle caresses moved slowly up his spine and down his thigh.

His cock was hardening rapidly trapped against Cameron’s muscular thigh. Is this me feeling this good? Or is it just overspill from Cam’s mind? He wondered.

In the end he decided his fears didn’t matter, the feeling of belonging, like family but more intense, more sexual, was worth any sacrifice.

One of the others had his cock wedged in Taylor’s arse crack, not penetrating, knowing that their team mate was only taking his first steps, just getting him accustomed to the proximity of hard meat...it was so really cool that they cared enough to start gently.

The group hug ended, all of them stepping back a pace. Taylor glanced behind to see that it had been Three’s member that his arse had wanted to clench on. Three smiled and winked.

“You feeling better?” asked Cameron

“Yes, thanks guys, I..thanks, I’m proud to be one of you. I know I’m not quite me anymore, but I wouldn’t change that, not for anything.”

“Ok, three more pieces of equipment each and then we go see One’s mom.” instructed Cameron.

Happy with his new reality, Taylor walked over to an exercise bike and started peddling. Being more like Cameron no longer held any fear for him, in fact he eagerly examined his thoughts trying to spot the changes as he evolved.

Washington Square

They sat on the lip of the partly filled fountain, Max laughed again. “The look on his face when Blu Static zapped him! Priceless!”

“I dunno dude, I think maybe we went too far”

“You saw him, he just followed like a happy lil sheep...he’s a faggot and loving every minute of it. Hell I bet we did him a favour”

“You think?”

“yeah, I think”

A man sauntered over, his every move screaming queen. Clearly a man who worked out, he wore lipstick, blush and mascara, a long cigarette holder clasped delicately in his meaty hand.

“Hello darlings” said the man taking a long drag on his cigarette “Are you Max and Dale?”

The brothers glanced at each other not sure who this guy was.

“Yeah that’s us”

The guy exhaled, the smoke from his cigarette forming two lilac coloured smoke rings.

“I am, like, so pleased to meet you. I have so much to tell you” said the man enthusiastically “I’m Coach Bright, but you can call me Serge”

The smoke rings drifted close and then changed shape, looking like a pair of small smoky Chinese dragons for a brief instant before flying straight up the noses of the two brothers.

Dale smelled the sweat perfume odour that seemed to buzz in his nose, making his head feel warm.

“Shit man this is good weed”

“Its even better when its delivered mouth to mouth, want to try it darlings?”

“yeah”

“Uh-huh”

Dale waited his turn allowing Max to take the first hit. Serge inhaled from his cigarette, a wisp of smoke visible between his lips.

Their lips touched and Dale sucked the smoke deep into his lungs feeling it burn and buzz all the way down, making his lungs feel like they were glowing a radiant pink.

“come with me darlings” suggested Serge

Still holding his breath so as not to lose the buzz, Dale got up and followed, Max was a pace behind. After a minute or two of walking his peripheral vision was getting dark due to oxygen starvation.

Serge stopped, turning to regard them “Would you boys like another?”

Dale nodded, speaking would have Meant exhaling. Serge pressed his lips to Dale’s and the smoky warmth boosted back to full.

They followed as Serge minced his way down onto the 4th street station; he’d paid for the boys, At the end of the platform was a steel barred door with a second solid metal door behind.

Serge rattled some keys and soon both doors were open.

By now Dale was nearly out of it again from holding the smoke in so long.

“Now darlings, are you nice and relaxed”

Dale nodded slowly, the spots before his eyes were quite pretty now.

“You boys have won a makeover, isn’t that just so nice”

Dale nodded again latching on the word “won”

“I want you to take off your clothes slowly one item at a time, as you do so you will become more and more relaxed, happier and happier to have me guiding your choice of clothing, until you are naked and obedience is automatic”

“take off your clothes boys, all that leather and denim is So last season”

They did as they were told, feeling more and more confident that Serge was helping them.

“ooh yuck, body hair, that will just have to go”

Serge handed Dale a pot of wax and a razor to Max. Without thinking too much about it Dale applied the wax to his own legs and then to Max’s.

At the same time Max was setting about his pubes with the blade, a beard of black crinkly hair forming a pile on the floor, leaving a tidy pair of naked cocks.

The removal of the hair wax was excruciating, bringing Dale back to himself. Angrily looking down at his naked cock, Dale moved to pickup his pants.

“Hold it right there darlings” said Serge a hint of steel in his voice.

Dale froze, he couldn’t even touch the garment. A prickle of fear ran up his spine.

“what the fuck is this?”

“I am in charge of this makeover, my ugly little ducklings, soon you will be graceful swans, dressing as I want you dressed. Is that understood?”

“Yes,... No! what is this shit?”

Serge took a long drag from his cigarette holder letting out two more smoke rings. After drifting for a few seconds the rings changed shape taking on the profile of a pair of swans.

The swan cloud glided unstoppably toward him flowing up his nose, fizzing his brain.

“remember darlings, you no longer have any control over how you dress, in fact you are already forgetting how zips and trouser buttons work”

Dale looked at the jeans, there was a slit down their front fringed with tiny metal studs, he realized with a chill of fear that it was a zip and that he couldn’t figure out how it worked.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Darling, you didn’t think what you did to the lovely Taylor would go unpunished did you?”

“You...your not turning us gay are you?” asked Dale with desperate fear

“Darling, darling, darling, I wouldn’t do that, If I did that it would be no punishment at all. Now its time for you to get dressed here, my little ducklings, your new boots. Put them on”

The boots were a stiletto-heeled confection of white leather straps that reached to the knee where ostrich feathers formed a bush around the boot top.

Dale found his hands moving to put them on. Standing in the things was nearly impossible and took nearly all his smoke clouded concentration.

“And now your jackets” instructed the guy. Dale tried to stop himself but found himself moving as instructed.

The jackets consisted a modified set of football shoulder pads that dangled two breast shaped fluffs of feather over his chest, a fan of white feathers stood over 3ft taller than he did. Two shoulder length gloves with a fringe of foot long feather wings was next.

“And now the final touch” said the guy handing Dale a triangle of white silk.

Dale looked at the piece of silk blankly; at first he thought it was going to be a thong but there were no strings.

“Darlings, I see that you don’t quite understand, we can’t have you wearing a thong, that would get in the way of your cute little tushes. What you have in your hand is a demi-thong, it superglues on in front leaving your rear nice and open”

Dale’s hands moved with quick efficiency gluing the cloth in place. As he did so Serge let loose two more smoke rings, these two looking like butterflies before flowing up Dale’s nose.

“These are your clothes now, they are your only clothes, no other clothes will fit you. You know this to be true.”

The smoky butterfly sizzled its way around Dales’ lungs filling him with an easy calmness, Time seemed to stop, like a film that has been edited by an enthusiastic TV censor restarting halfway through the next scene

“..and refreshed, return Now. Oh one last thing, take these leaflets, hand them out to anyone you think is gay. If a person holding a leaflet tells you to do something, you will obey, ok darlings, bye now”

Serge sauntered over giving them each a smoky farewell kiss. For the next five minutes Max and Dale just stood there in a haze of smoke induced bliss. Gradually they came back down to reality.

Dale looked at his brother who stared back at him in horror. Max bent down trying to pick up his jeans, only his hand kept missing, grasping at places where the garment wasn’t.

“Shit man! We look like we belong in a fucking Mardi Gras parade”

“its like, mind control, maybe it will wear off, lets get home before anyone sees us.”

“abso-fucking-lutely”

The two exited onto the subway station swaying uncertainly on their new high heels.

Outside a group of Naked Boy Singers were doing sit ups on the sun baked sidewalk. One of them seemed to turn his arm transparent for a few seconds, his watch falling through his wrist and onto the floor.

“Bugger!” he said reaching down to pick it up

Dale’s eyes widened, only gays had mutant powers it was genetic....everyone knew that. Before he realized what he was doing Dale had handed the hansom dancer a leaflet.

Terrified he listened as the boy read aloud

“I turned someone gay against their will because I thought it was funny. As a punishment I must dress like a Mardi Gras queen and suck cock or take it up the arse from anyone who wants it. I am yours to command”

The mutant’s startlingly blue eyes regarded him steadily. Cold sweat began to bead on Dale’s forehead and trickle down, a feeling of dread washing over him. Would the shirtlifter do as the leaflet suggested? Or were they going to escape this time?

“So, this friend of yours, he enjoys being gay?”

“I don’t know”

The mutant turned to his buddies. “what do you think?”

“Not on the street, that’s tacky”

“How about the gym? That’s close and there’s bound to be plenty of takers, we can dump him there.”

The mutant turned back to Dale “Follow me”

As Dale turned to follow he noticed that Max was no longer with him, he looked around, finally seeing him across the street crouched down in front of a skinhead his head bobbing...a small crowd was gathering to watch.

But there was no stopping and soon his brother was out of sight.

The Gym had a large “closed” sign hung inside its glass doors, painted in red with a small pink flower painted next to the D.

For a moment Dale had the hope that he would escape his punishment, but the biggest of the faggots seemed to have a spare key.

With mounting fear Dale noticed that the gym’s paint scheme was identical to the room Serge had taken them too earlier.

They Passed through the locker room and into the main exercise area, despite being closed the gym was in use.

Dale stopped dead causing the faggots behind to bump into him. Directly opposite, using a set of hand weights stood Taylor. He was naked, his muscular physique glistening with perspiration. His cock stood proudly erect and seemed slightly longer than Dale would have expected. A thin leash of energy emerged from Taylor’s short cropped blond hair crackling across the room to where Blu Static was using a rowing machine.

Dale looked between the two of them, there was a sameness about them, nothing obvious, something about their stance, their determined expression, the clenched teeth.

Around the room other energy bolts connected to the rest of Blu Static’s harem, each boy looking more identical to Blu than the last.

Dale took a step forward and then another, Blu Static and his boys were gay, and that had triggered the compulsion, the leaflets were already in his hand.

Taylor was totally focused on his weights, and didn’t seem to notice him until he was right in front of him.

The weights clattered to the floor, causing everyone to look toward them.

“!.. Dale?!” gasped Taylor in shock taking the leaflet without looking at it.

“I...I’m sorry for turning you gay man” said Dale hoping to avoid the inevitable

Taylor seemed to be lost in thought for a moment...and then smiled.

“Actually Dickhead, I have never felt better, I’m not totally into men yet but I will be soon and you want to know something...I can’t wait!”

“Your not..yet?” Dale smiled seeing a loophole, out of the compulsion and snatching back the leaflet.

Team Blu frowned as one. Blu Static himself stopped exercising and wandered over. Unable to stop himself Dale handed him a leaflet.

“I see Serge has done a good job with your makeover, plenty of naked butt to admire. You’re actually lucky, his last victim was head to toe in rubber, without talc.

Given that it was you that gave me Taylor, I think its only fair that he’s the first to get your cherry.” said Blu Static turning to Taylor

“Taylor, it’s time you experienced what it is you’re looking forward to. I know you’re gonna enjoy this, and I know the team is gonna get off on watching him take his punishment.

“Two, get some KY and prep dickhead Dale’s arse, Three get a condom on Taylor’s cock and lube him up too.”

Dale felt the compulsion kicking in, Blu Static had a leaflet and he was a faggot, there was no choice but to obey. He balanced, legs spread wide, awkwardly unstable in his stiletto tipped boots. He bent down his white gloved hand to the floor in a position like a quarterback’s crouch.

He could feel the finger applying cold slick stuff to his arse crack, stroking up and down, and then without warning the finger slipped into him, pushing the squidgy jell up inside him, doing interesting things that caused his cock to strain painfully against the demi-thong’s glued seam.

Taylor groaned in pleasure as the condom was rolled onto his cock, Three’s well practiced hand slithering over and around it bringing him to the brink. Three smiled and took his hand away, Cam didn’t want him cumming to soon.

Two and Three stepped back, giving him a good view of Dale’s butt...it beckoned.. He could feel his desires adjusting, he wanted to be in there, feeling its tight warmth. It was odd, he knew what to expect, remembering feelings he’d never experienced. Tentatively he stepped forward guiding his cock with one hand until he could feel it had found the little depression that was Dale’s anus.

Two had done his job well, Dale’s hole was already gaping wide, his cock slid in easily, popping past a delightful fiery rim that clenched just behind his cockhead. He moved his hands to Dale’s hips pulling himself further in.

Taylor eased himself back out and entered again, a virgin and an expert at the same time. Knowing how to get most pleasure and experiencing the wonder of that pleasure as something new.

Slowly he increased his pace and then let all thought of timing, of what to do next, how best to do it, slip from his mind, he was primal, the fucking guided by the most primitive part of his brain.

His breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps, the feeling of “about to cum” blotting out everyone and everything.

“Uhn, uh, agh-uhhn!” his hot cum jetting into the condom, warm sticky liquid coating his cock, sated he looked down at Dale’s back, five milky lines criss-crossed his back where the rest of the harem had cum.

Later.

It had taken until nearly 9:00pm to get home, every gay looking guy had been given a leaflet, and a number of them had taken up the offer. Dale had gotten in first, Max getting back a half hour later, slumping onto the couch face down.

The skinhead Dale had seen him with had taken him to an S&M club, his butt was cherry red from the spankings and whippings, he had endured for most of the day.

Dale waited until his brother was asleep, Inflamed with guilty pleasure, and a secret envy of the bruises, he moved quietly to the door picking up his leaflets.

If he was lucky he’d be back before Max woke and he’d never find out his brother had gone looking for more.

Outside, he looked around it was easy to spot the faggot touristas. The compulsion kicked in and he was off, swaggering effeminately down the street in his feather rimmed stiletto thigh boots.

“Hi Darling, I’ve been a bad boy, can you punish me?” he said handing the man his leaflet.