The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Turnabout Is Fair Play

“Anderson, get your ass over here. Morgan, I’ll deal with you after class.”

It took me a second to register the gruff voice of Coach James Stevens, the 1st period study hall monitor, and my captor for the hour. I was rudely pulled from my reverie. “Um, sure coach” I mumbled as I made my way to the front of the room, nearly forgetting the rugged features of Jake Morgan—North High’s star quarterback—which I had been studying absentmindedly for a quarter of an hour. Nearly.

Sure, my mind had wandered from my chemistry notes a bit and searched for something more...stimulating. This whole semester was a repeat from my last high school and I hadn’t needed this remedial shit anyway. Not that the subject itself was dull, quite the opposite, I just had much more advanced ideas for the field. Jake was way more interesting in a way that any sexually interested teenager could appreciate. 6′ tall and muscular as a wet dream he was definitely my favorite jock of all the high schools I had attended, who could blame me for window shopping?

Apparently the staff and administrators at North could, and would, blame me. “Yes coach?” I asked quietly when I reached Stevens’ desk. He stood glowering down at me, his barrel chest in my face. This guy had to be 6’6” and firmly in the “aging jock” category, late 40’s and getting soft around the middle but not really unpleasant to look at. “What the fuck were you doing back there?” he growled. “Chemistry?” I squeaked hopefully—this was not my most masculine moment. “Chem-istry?” he mimicked in a falsetto that made me blush. I could hear other students giggling behind me and hoped that Jake couldn’t make out the conversation. “You were staring at Morgan like a fucking faggot!” His voice rose to a dull roar. “And I think Morgan fucking liked the attention, don’t you Morgan?” He stopped and looked up at Jake, who blushed visibly. “I think we all know how they do it in “San Francisco” (again in that high mocking voice) but around here we don’t tolerate that kind of faggy bullshit!” I couldn’t do anything but stand perfectly still as though I was a god damned woodland creature and he might not see me if I didn’t move. I stuttered some variety of denials but the whole exchange was unintelligible. I was burning with shame and anger and nothing was coming out right. “I’ll see you in my office at 3 for your punishment. Don’t plan on going home for a while.”

I made my way back to my seat, all the while enduring the stares of my classmates. “Fantastic,” I thought to myself “it’s my second week here and already I’ve been firmly defined as not just a queer but a queer pussy.” I finished out study hall kicking myself for not standing up the the blustering ex-jock, wondering what my punishment would be after school and attempting to stop staring at Jake. I was woefully unable to complete the last task, Jake looked my way several times over the next half hour until the bell rang and he darted to Coach’s desk.

I headed to my next class beginning to truly dread my second meeting with Coach Stevens. Lost in thought was caught off guard when my Bill laid his hand on my shoulder. Bill and I had only known each other for a few weeks but I had gotten the impression he wasn’t exactly the most popular kid in school so we bonded quickly. “I hear you had a run in with Coach.” he said earnestly. “Um, yeah, I guess I did. So great to know it’s made the rounds in...” I checked my watch “oh 37 minutes. Fantastic.” He didn’t even crack a smile. “Lighten up, man. I’ve got to meet with him after school, worst that happens I lose a hour of jerking off to xtube.” He didn’t laugh or look embarrassed. This could not be good. “What will he make me do for detention? Wash towels? Scrub the guys locker room? Be fucked by the football and soccer teams?” The last one was sarcastic if a little hopeful, I might enjoy seeing all those guys at any rate. “No...” he drew out as if stalling for time “it’s a bit more serious that any of that. I’ll tell you all about it at lunch.” He walked away and all I could do was try to think of something more serious than an officially sanctioned gang bang.

“You cannot be serious! The fact that what you’re telling me is completely illegal is the least of my arguments! This has to be a high school urban legend—like the homecoming queen burried beneath the football field or the geek who was shoved into his locker and forgotten for a full semester until someone investigated the smell. That kind of stuff doesn’t actually happen.” I absolutely could not believe what Bill had told me. “You don’t have to believe me Chris, the entire district does the same thing. It’s sort of like a high school don’t ask don’t tell, the school board decided that having homosexuals ‘flaunting’ themselves was bad for education. If they suspect that a student is showing ‘homosexual tendencies’ they punish them to try and fix it, the added bonus is that it keeps anyone else from acting gay.”

“So, let me get this straight. If a student is suspected of being gay the staff is permitted to take the student without parental consent, pump him full of mind altering drugs and hormones, then essentially torture him for as long as they deem necessary?” Bill didn’t miss a beat to correct me: the whole plan was actually done with complete parental consent. The parents had petitioned the school board years ago to do something about the liberal social policies of high school. When I had been enrolled in North there had been a stack of waivers and consent forms. Apparently it was a win-win for the parents, if the kid was straight then they had only wasted a ream of paper paper and 5 minutes of their day. If they weren’t straight enough then they’d be fixed at no additional charge. Now I was starting to worry in earnest, simply being embarrassed in front of the class had been bad enough but what Bill was alluding to was absolutely terrifying. “There are supposed to be cells or something under the gym” I looked at him with my eyebrows raised. “Seriously, just listen, ok?” I nodded my assent.

“There are rooms under the gym where the ‘problem students’ are taken. It’s this big room with clear cells all around the room—you can see everyone but you can’t, like, touch them or anything. It’s all guys down there in these rooms and they pump something into the air to keep the guys perpetually....you know...um, horny. It’s just a big room of naked guys with stiffies; masturbating and watching each other and stuff. One of my friends in AV club was sent to hook up some kind of closed circuit TV thing between the basement, the locker rooms and coach’s office, he looked like he had seen a ghost when he was done. Just said that coach told him to watch his ass and not the jocks’ if he didn’t want to have a room of his own. They are not fucking around Chris.” he blushed at that last part, I hadn’t known him long but Bill was not a ‘cusser’ and his ominous tone was not calming my nerves. I managed to ask him a few more questions before the bell rang and we had to separate. I left the meeting feeling somewhat more hopeful than I had expected.

Normally I would have loathed chemistry class but today I rushed into the lab full of excitement. I managed to arrive before class started and talked the teacher into giving us an independent work period, I couldn’t believe my luck. I felt proud of my political prowess until she announced the independent study to the rest of the class then muttered something about my classmates being lucky if they got into state school anyway and the whole course being a waste of her time. Trying to ignore her I dove diligently into my work. I rushed to the chemical storage and obtained my ingredients from memory. I couldn’t believe how ironic it was that the very compound which had gotten me removed from my last school would be my saviour here. Just a simple mind altering mix with an alcohol base that would evaporate quickly leaving only the active ingredients behind. The stuff absorbed through skin like juice through a paper towel, it would increase suggestibility in anyone who was exposed to the stuff. I’d had a bit of trouble with a bully in the past and I’d had a bit of fun with him by way of encouraging him to come to school each day in his wrestling leotard while showing off his progressively more clean shaven body. In hindsight maybe I shouldn’t have mixed the stuff into his shaving gel but how could I have known you could overdose on it? Last I heard the guy was still being treated for the ‘Extreme Suggestibility”. Apparently there had been some situation where he was told to ‘take a long walk off a short pier’ and was pretty much locked away somewhere for his own safety. He had been a jerk but he did look good in that spandex outfit. I worked the entire class on reproducing the formula from memory and had just finished siphoning the mix into a water bottle as the bell rang.

The rest of the day flew by—which was a relief to me. I wanted the whole thing over with and the prospect of being a cellar zombie with a permanent hard on was surprisingly unappealing—even if it did come with the opportunity to watch the varsity team in the locker room. At 3 I reported to the coach’s office with my solution in hand, planning to play the klutz and squirt the stuff on him then stall for a few minutes while the chemicals took effect. I knocked on the door nervously and heard a rustling inside followed by a mumbled “yeah?". I opened the door and saw Stevens quickly minimizing what looked like a security feed on his computer, I also noticed his hand rubbing his ill hidden package. I regathered myself in record time “You wanted to see me, sir.” I lifted the bottle slightly so I could spray downward and make the most of the jet of liquid. “What do you have there, Anderson? You know we don’t allow outside food and drink on campus.” he stepped around the desk and held out his hand for the bottle. I was so thrown off by this sudden change in direction that I held the bottle out to him and it was in his hand before I realized what had happened. Fuck.

He held the bottle beneath his nose and grinned. This was not an expected reaction, my mind tried to catch up to the situation and I could come up with only one explanation. He knew my history, he knew what I had done and he knew what my plan was. I panicked and felt my mouth go dry, literally bone dry with terror, as my knees went weak. He looked right at me and smirked. “I never would have guessed you one to bring hooch to school, Anderson.” ‘Hooch’? Really? “Usually you fags don’t do this kind of thing, I know my boys do it but not you geeky queers.” What the hell was going on? Then he raised the bottle to his lips and squirted half the container into his open mouth like a boxer. He swished it around for a second then swallowed with the gusto of a frat boy with a beer bong. “Not bad, kinda a girly drink—big fucking surprise—but its not a bad afternoon pick me up.” I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times then settled on what to say. “Um, coach. I think you should put that bottle down.” He looked at me with fury at having been told to do anything by someone like me but then set it complacently on the table. His eyes widened as he stared down at the bottle like it was an alien which had moved of its own volition. He reached his hand back to grab it back up and I quickly told him not to touch it again. His hand dropped to his side limply and his eyes met mine. “What the fuck?”

It had been a while since I’d utilized this cocktail but I was certain that it would come back to me once I got going. Increased suggestibility meant he would do what I told him and believe whatever I told him. This was going to be fun. “Jimmy, you’ve just drank a chemical that puts me in total control of your mind and body. You can’t do anything to hurt me and you can’t disobey me, but you’ll be completely aware of what’s going on. Oh and you cannot lie to me, Jimmy. Now, I want you to tell me what you were doing when I arrived in this office.” I watched the terror flit over his face for the first time and was reminded of the last time I had used this stuff. It gave me an instant hard on; I angled myself behind the desk so he wouldn’t see it. “I was watchin... I was watching the... detention center” he blurted. “Is that all you were doing, Jimmy, just watching the detention center?” I clicked on the minimized surveillance window and saw what Bill had told me about. From the camera we were looking through I could see a dozen guys in various positions, some were touching themselves while others ground against the furnishings of their cell. “I was watchin them and jerking off. You interrupted me.” He added the last part angrily.

I asked him a few more questions. Who was down there? Apparently it was ‘full of queers’. How long had they been doing this? 15 years. You just torture them for the year and let them go? “Only if they can resist their evil urges, only if they’re cured. Otherwise we just keep em.” I was stunned. “You have men down there, pumped full of hormones and you only let them go if they can resist the effects?! And you’ve kept them for 15 years?” He smiled now. “Those queers just can’t get enough, kid. I check in with them every day, keep an eye on em. I bet they even get off on my watchin’ ‘em.” This guy had gone from henchman to twisted mastermind in only a few seconds.

Well, a mastermind deserved a master plan. “Jimmy, it’s too bad you were such a bad boy today. Sneaking into my office and watching those boys like a dirty little homo.” As my words sank into his addled mind he seemed to physically shrink into a scared kid in front of a feared authority figure. “I’m so- so- sorry, I couldn’t help myself, I swear! Please don’t make me go down there!” He was damn near hysterical at this point. “Jimmy, do you know how I keep them like that?” He gulped “yeah...”

Deadly calm I ordered: “Tell me all about it.”

He told me about the gas piped into the chamber, that it’s effects lasted for days after final exposure and most importantly he told me where the shut off valve was. “Jimmy, I want you to drink the rest of this water bottle” His hand moved toward it without a thought, that would be much too easy on him. I hurried to continue “Did I mention that the cocktail in that bottle contains a concentrated liquid form of the gas in the chambers?” His eyes widened as he moved the bottle to his lips. “In this form” I continued “it’s 10 times more effective on bad boys like yourself.” I watched as his eyes welled up with tears, he began to plead with me. “Please don’t make me drink it” he shrieked, his large hand wrapped around the bottle “I, I, I don’t want to be like them” he continued to plead and I absently stroked myself. I sat quietly as I listened to him beg, plead and barter to avoid the drink as his body betrayed him and he swallowed it down without missing a drop. The change was immediate, his dick was literally instantly hard. It was like watching an airbag deploy in a crash. The coach was suddenly sporting a stiff rod down the left leg of his jogging shorts. He started stroking the thing manically and gaping at me in horror, fully aware of what he was doing.

“Listen to me Jimmy” I began authoritatively “stop touching yourself, you will no longer be able to touch your cock.” His hand dropped to the side of the chair and his face reddened with pain and frustration. I stared intently at him for a second and watched his face twist with rage and horror when he suddenly stood up and began grinding his cock on the arms of the chair he had been seated in. The huge man was draped over the chair and working it hard enough to make the furniture creak and groan. I hadn’t expected that reaction but was pleasantly surprised by it nonetheless. I let my own hand wander back to my hard on and made the most of the situation, removing it from my jeans so I could enjoy myself. Watching him grind wantonly was getting to me. He kept catching my eye and looking away in shame, his face bright red.

I had reduced this bear of a man to nothing more than a bitch in heat, willing to do anything for sexual release. Such an opportunity should never be wasted. “Jimmy, come suck my cock.” He dropped to the floor dragging his legs behind him so that he could drag his cock along the carpet. He moved in fits and starts so that it rubbed the floor with each inch of movement as he came to me. I turned the desk chair to the side and slouched down, pulling my jeans out of the way. He tried to keep the awkward position which was applying relief pressure to his engorged dick but that wasn’t going to work for me. I spotted a baseball bat in the corner and grabbed it, shoving it between his legs and wedging it between the chair and the floor. He looked up at me as he began to bear down on it, shame clearly visible in his eyes. He tried to hide his enthusiasm as ground into the hard wood but lost all control as he he went to work on me. He nearly swallowed me whole with his first thrust, gagging hard against it but not stopping until his lips reached my base. He continued with great eagerness and I realized that one of the effects of the gas must be that it makes anything sexual pleasurable, including giving head. The man was great at it and really gave it his best effort. By the time that I was ready to cum he was practically choking on my dick, without warning I came straight down his throat.

I pushed him off of me and left him on the floor with the bat so that I could shut down the gas valve and start the exhaust fan. The switches were right in the office where coach had told me they were and I activated them quickly so I could head downstairs.

What I already knew about the hellhole beneath the gym did nothing to prepare me for the sensory overload of actually being there. I pushed the coach ahead of me down the stairs to find exactly what Bill had told me about. The room was a dim one, about 60 feet square, lined on all sides with 10x10 ft cubes made of transparent plexiglass. The cells were lit by a light above each so that the occupants could be seen clearly from the open area of the room and each contained an assortment of dildos and lubes. I also noticed that each door into the main room held not only a slot in the bottom like you would see in a prison movie but also a large hole in the center of it. The entire room smelled of weeks old cum and the floors of the cell seemed to have been varnished in it. The guys down here didn’t seem nearly as far gone as coach was, but then again they didn’t have my special formula flooding their brains. They were each jerking off or grinding on the sparse furniture of their cell but not with the same fervor that my specimen was.

The boy in the cell closest to the door saw us enter and looked disconcertingly pleased to see the coach. The kid couldn’t have been more than a sophomore and was a bit scrawny looking but not unattractive by any means. He dropped to his knees in front of the door to his cell and begged to suck the coach off. He leaned his face up to the glory hole in the door and jerked off in long strokes. “I think I get what you’ve been doing down here Jimmy” he looked up at me and grunted while grinding on the bat “I’m ugh in guh trouble pft huh gasp Coach?“I smiled at him. “What’s your name?” I asked the boy. He stared at me without comprehension for a second, as though I had stopped him on the street and asked him what year it was.

“Gregory...” He answered without confidence.

“Gregory, I’ve turned off the gas that’s making you.. um...” now it was my turn to be unsure how to put it. “Horny as fuck!” he provided still stroking himself absentmindedly. “Yeah, that. Anyway, I turned off the gas but it’ll take some time for the effects to wear off. I put Coach Stevens under the influence though so if you’d like some payback-” he cut me off “Oh, hell yes I would!” I opened the door to the cell and turned to Stevens ““I’ll tell you what Jimmy, I’ve had an idea. I’m going to let these 12 guys fuck you and if you don’t cum while they do it we’ll know that you are a good heterosexual all-American male and I’ll let you go, if you enjoy yourself though you’ll get to stay down here until you can resist your urges. How does that sound?” Comprehension filled his face. Gregory flashed a vicious smile of appreciation. Stevens had already creamed himself at least half a dozen times over a fucking baseball bat, there was no way he wouldn’t blow a dozen more loads by the time these guys were through with him. “Get in there Jimmy. Oh, and Gregory, he’s a fantastic cocksucker if you’re interested” Gregory looked at me with a smile which clearly hadn’t been exercised in a while and I assured him that coach would do whatever he wanted, he just had to give the order. My reverie at my good deed was shattered by a bellow from across the room.

“YOU!” I heard it from the far corner of the room and could make out a tall man, completely nude, his muscles well defined in the sharp lighting of his cell and his cock half stiff. He was standing with his forearms pressed to the glass, leaning forward so that his face was too close to the glass to be lit by the light above. I moved toward his voice cautiously. He continued to bellow at me and beat the glass for emphasis. “You’re the reason I’m down here! No one was supposed to know! I’m the fucking quarterback!” As I drew closer I realized it was fucking Jake Morgan, the guy who had gotten me in this mess (albeit through no specific effort of his own) standing naked and caged before me. “If you weren’t staring at me Coach never would have put me down here, I’ve always watched my ass man! I’m not some flamer like you!” He seemed to be ranting but I guess it was warranted given the stressful situation. “Listen, Jake, I’m sorry about that. I just couldn’t help myself. I had no idea they were doing anything like this!” I explained what I had done and told him that the effects of the gas should wear off shortly, especially if he’d only been exposed for a few hours. He was definitely the least affected in the room and I asked if he could help me out with everyone else. He agreed readily and grabbed some clothes off a stack in the corner for a bit of modesty though the there was really no hope covering up his boner.

I watched him pull on the tight jeans he had selected and noticed he had a bit of trouble getting his cock to fit comfortably inside, he also seemed to be rubbing himself

more than most guys do when getting dressed in a public setting. Feeling emboldened by my heroics I dared to mention it to Jake, since, after all, we were basically partners at this point. His anger toward me had thankfully subsided by now and he looked at me with a very open expression on his face “Yeah, the drugs or whatever, give you a permanent boner after a while. It’s like all you can think about is sex and how good everything feels and wanting to make yourself or someone else feel good. I can’t imagine what these guys feel like, I’ve only had a little bit of it and its making me feel fucking crazy.” He paused thoughtfully “When I would try to think of getting out it was like my brain just wanted me to masturbate, I couldn’t think straight—still can’t really... It’s taking everthing I’ve got not to fuck you right here and now.” He grinned wickedly at me, his eyes sparkling, then began to go to the other cells opening them for their occupants and explaining the situation. I was now sporting a semi and matched the whole damn room.

As Jake and I went around the room liberating it’s prisoners I finally made my way back to Gregory’s cell. The coach was lying on his stomach on the cot in the cell with skinny Gregory pounding his ass from above. The image would have been humorous if it wasn’t so well deserved. As I drew closer to the cell Gregory looked at me and beamed at me still pumping into Stevens “This stuff is like Viagra on steroids, it never stops feeling good. I’ve come 3 times and I can keep going for hours if I want to.” Jake and I shared a glance. Jake was first to ask the question “Hey, Greg, would you mind loaning him to the rest of the guys for a bit?” “Sure Jake, they deserve a go at him too!” He grinned maniacally and pulled quickly out of the coach’s asshole with a pop. “Yeah, that’s right, beg you son of a bitch.” He deadpanned at Stevens and I realized that the big man was thrusting himself backwards like a little bitch trying to find something to fill his tight asshole.

We moved Stevens to the center of the larger room where each of the guys was given the opportunity to have their way with their former captor. At first there was a lot of double teaming going on, but when Gregory explained that he would obey whatever he was told they got more creative. While Jake and I watched from the edge of the group Jake told me that it was another effect of the drugs. “When all you can think about is sex,” he told me solemnly “you can come up with a lot of very specific ideas.” I was pretty sure he leered at me when he said that. I asked him what sorts of ideas and we were interuppted by what I’m certain was the coach barking at the center of the pile. After a second of staring at the orgy in the middle of the room Jake looked at me again. “I keep thinking that you and I should head up to the coach’s office and I could fuck you on his desk, we can watch the action down here on his computer.” I didn’t need more convincing than that, we headed directly upstairs and left the other boys to their business with coach. They’d leave when the drugs wore off anyway.