The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“C’mon, Chris! We’re gonna be late!” Wade bellowed from downstairs.

I checked my reflection in the mirror on the closet door. Chinos, green sweater. I looked good enough. I don’t know why it mattered anyway. Well, except that I always try to look presentable when I leave the house.

I hurried down the stairs. “Keep your shirt on. We have plenty of time.” I grabbed my coat and scarf and followed Wade outside.

“I’ll drive,” he said.

Like I’d ever entertained the thought he wouldn’t.

Once we were seat-belted in and on the road, Wade looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “So what did you do to Andrew?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Wade looked at me suspiciously. “Have you seen him since Christmas?”

“Not really.”

“Uh-huh,” Wade said. “Well, he shaved his beard—he’s got a goatee now.”

“Oh? How’s it look?”

“Cute. Kind of offbeat. And he’s been wearing these baggy jeans and stuff.”

“So...?”

“So you saw him on Christmas. He was, like, total biker guy. Now he’s different. And I think you did it.”

I didn’t reply.

“And I’m right,” he announced triumphantly.

I considered lying, but that wasn’t something I liked to do with Wade. “The biker thing was a little too extreme. It was time for a change. Do you hate this new version?”

“No. I just don’t get what it is yet.”

“Oh. Skater. Andrew picked it.”

“Does he know he changed?”

“No, he chooses the new personality and I help him overcome his inhibitions and be that type of person. He seems to really do well with it.”

“And you’re going to show me how you do it, right?”

“I don’t know if that’s such a—”

“Chris! You can do anything you want to my boyfriend. How fair is that?”

“Wade, that’s not true. I can’t do anything to him. I’m only helping him because he asked me to.”

Wade’s brow furrowed; he looked unhappy. “Could you hypnotize me?

“No!” Okay, so I sounded way too emphatic. Maybe Wade hadn’t noticed.

“You don’t have to freak out.”

He noticed.

“I just wondered what it’s like—what it feels like.”

Suddenly we were treading very dangerous ground. “Wade, I’ll tell you what. I’ll teach you a few basics of hypnosis if you’ll drop the idea of me hypnotizing you.”

Wade seemed to be weighing my offer. “I don’t see why you can hypnotize Craig and Andrew, but not me.”

“Wade,” I said, trying to choose my words very carefully. “You have become very important to me. And I don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize our relationship. Do you understand?”

“I guess so.” Wade grinned. “What you mean is you won’t because you care about me. That’s cool, I guess. Stupid, but cool.” Wade stopped for a red light. “So what’s the deal with Craig?”

“Craig?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how bitchy he’s been all week.”

“Wade!”

“What? He has! I know he hates having me around, but all week he’s picked a fight every chance he got.” Wade started moving again with traffic.

“I’ll admit he’s been a bit cool this week, but...”

“Don’t make excuses for him, Chris. Andrew was ready to deck him on Christmas, but I asked him not to.”

How did I miss that little melodrama playing out around my tree? I had noticed that Craig was a bit on the moody side, but I admit I’ve been too busy to really examine the cause. I was going to have to talk to him about his treatment of Wade, however.

Wade pulled into the Tratorria’s parking lot. Scott was standing in front, looking cold, but casual and elegant. I was suddenly struck by how much he looked like an Abercrombie model in his shiny black shoes, jeans, gray turtleneck and P-coat. His glossy black hair was combed neatly. Scott was definitely a guy who could turn heads.

He approached us as we emerged from the car.

“So this is the car,” he said to Wade. “Very nice. You know what happens when a cute guy gets a nice car, right?”

Wade’s ears reddened, and not from the cold.

Scott offered his hand to shake mine and we exchanged pleasantries before grabbing a table for three. I ended up situated between Wade and Scott. Ordinarily being between two cute guys would have my mind elsewhere. Especially since I couldn’t help noticing just how well the turtleneck fit Scott.

Since Scott had suggested the restaurant we took his recommendations on ordering. The waiter brought our drinks and disappeared.

“I can’t believe Christmas break is half over,” Scott said. “Classes will be back in session soon.”

“I got my schedule set,” Wade said. “I’ve got English, American History, art and math. What are you taking?”

“Two lit classes, piano, and voice three.”

“Voice?” I repeated. “You’re a singer?”

“I love to sing.” He quickly added, “I just don’t do it in public.”

“Why not?”

This was the first time Scott hesitated in the conversation. He took a drink, then said, “I freeze up.”

“Stage fright?”

“I hate to admit it, but yeah.”

I nodded. “There are tricks to overcoming it.”

“That thing about picturing your audience naked doesn’t work.” He looked me directly in the eye. “If it did my hands wouldn’t be sweating now.” The smile that followed was charming.

“Yes, well—” I cleared my throat. “There are other ways.”

“Chris can hypnotize people,” Wade blurted out.

I winced.

Scott looked surprised. He chuckled. “What do you do? Make people quack like a duck and things like that?”

“I can,” I said quietly.

Wade nodded eagerly. “He helps people. I bet he could help you get rid of your stage fright.”

Right now ‘he’ wanted Wade to stop talking.

Scott made a facial shrug. “I don’t know about hypnosis, but I’ll keep it in mind.” He turned toward me. “And I already knew you liked to help people. I just wonder what kind of help you’d give me.”

I averted my eyes, glad hypnosis was a dead issue, but feeling quite sure that Scott had meant that as a come-on. “What type of music do you sing?” I asked, looking at the small gold hoop in his ear, rather than in his eyes. Okay, I admit it—I’m good at avoidance.

“All sorts, really. Right now I’ve been working on a couple of jazz numbers...”

The rest of lunch was quite enjoyable. The food was excellent, as was the company. Scott was witty, intelligent, and handsome. And, it turned out, a shameless flirt. His matter-of-fact style really impressed me. He pulled no punches, yet he was the sole of tact when conversation turned to Wade’s anxiety about starting college. It became quite apparent that Scott had become a confidant for Wade, and I appreciated that Wade had a close friend outside the house, even though I did find myself wondering what he had told Scott about me.

I also found myself thinking that if I was single I’d be very interested in Scott. As it was, I was hoping to develop a friendship with him. Lunch had been fun—and fun was something my life seemed to be lacking lately amid the juggling act I’d been handling with all these hypnotized boys.

Back at the house I had a message from Lee Phillips. It couldn’t possibly be about Jose since he had been dead for several weeks, so curiosity got the better of me and I dialed the number he’d left.

“’ello.”

“Lee, it’s Christopher returning your call.”

“Glad to hear back so quickly! I have a project I think may be right up your alley.”

“Do tell.” I leaned back in my desk chair and propped my feet up.

“There’s a television program called Faking It that has been quite a success overseas. Are you familiar with it?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Oh. What they do is teach someone enough to fake a different career. Say the get a fast food fry cook and train him to pass as a head chef at a five star restaurant. Are you with me?”

“So far...”

“Well, they’re doing an American version for cable and they’re looking for three people to fake it, as it were. A dear friend is producing it and he asked if I had any contacts through the carnival who might be of service in locating the type of person they sought. That’s when I thought of you, mate.”

“What exactly did you think of me for?”

“They have two of the people. One is a ballet dancer who will fake it as a stripper. The other is a PTA mom from the Midwest who is going to be a dominatrix. For the third they’re looking for a man.”

“I sincerely hope you don’t mean me.”

Lee laughed. “No, not you. I thought perhaps you’d have a boy you could suggest.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Someone outwardly normal who could then become engrossed in a fetish. The producers were thinking rubber—something outlandish and almost grotesque—I could get you more details if you’re interested.”

“What’s the timetable?”

“The sooner, the better. Less than a month?”

I pondered this. A boy with a fetish I wanted to be rid of in a month. Hmmm.

“Christopher, still there?”

“Yes, Lee. I believe I know just the boy.”

“Who do you have in mind?”

“He’s an average college student.”

“And he’ll do the rubber fetish?”

“Definitely.”

I hung up with Lee. That was progress. Nick would soon be out of my hair. If I could just wrap up Marty and Leatherman and David maybe things could get back to normal around here—just Craig and me and some long nights with short ropes. I missed those days.

Come to think of it, where was Craig?

Late Saturday afternoon David entered the house and paused. He looked at his feet, then bent over and untied his workboots, pulling them off. He straightened up and smiled at me.

I returned his smile, surveying him. Again he wore a shirt open over a wifebeater, only this time it was obvious he was going commando under his jeans.

He sat on the couch, feet spread, and looked around the room. I suspected wearing no underwear had forced him to start sitting with his legs spread wider, for comfort’s sake. He looked at me expectantly.

“Back for more talk about slaves, David?” I emphasized the word ‘slaves’ purposely.

He nodded. “Yes, I wanted to know what else you could tell me.”

“Closet Cop.” I waited as he drifted under, then took him through a couple of deepening exercises. When I was convinced he was well under I sat back in my chair, eyeing his feet.

“David, I see you’re wearing white socks today. They look brand new. Are they?”

“Yes.”

“David, did you ever notice the way socks smell after a long day of being inside your shoes? Have you ever noticed how the shoes smell?”

“Yes.” He wrinkled his nose.

“Good. David, you like that smell. You like it a lot. In fact, you find it intoxicating. Each time you remove your shoes you will find that you want to sniff them so that you may enjoy the smell from your feet. You will find that the odor arouses you. Your cock will respond to that smell. You will fill your nose with the smell from your hot, sweaty feet, allowing your cock to fill and rise. The stronger your shoes smell, the quicker your cock will rise. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” His voice sounded distant and dreamy.

“What will you do?”

“Sniff my shoes.”

“Yes, David. You will sniff your shoes to get an erection. You will cover your nose with your shoe and stroke yourself, filling your lungs with the aroma of your feet as you bring yourself closer and closer to orgasm. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“All it will take is a whiff of a shoe to get your cock started, David. Just the passing scent of your hot, sweaty feet will get you on your way to an instant erection. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

I crossed the room to the foyer and picked up David’s left boot. I walked back to him and held it under his nose.

“Sniff your shoe, David.”

He took the wheat-colored boot in both hands and buried his nose in it, filling his lungs with the aroma of his shoe. His cock responded, standing straight out, tenting his jeans.

“You like that, don’t you, David?”

“Yes.” His right hand snaked down to his crotch and began rubbing his erection.

“Good boy. Give me the shoe.”

He slowly surrendered the boot. I set it aside. His hand stopped stroking his crotch and came to rest at his side.

“I have more instructions for you today, David. And I know how much you like to follow instructions, how happy it makes you to do what is good. You know that any boy who wants to be a slave must follow directions and do what he is told. You want to be a slave, don’t you, David?”

“Yes.”

“Good. David, I see that you are sitting with your legs spread very wide today. You will continue to do that; sit with your legs very wide apart. Only now you will begin adjusting yourself regularly. You will find that whenever you see an attractive man it will become a habit to touch yourself. It won’t matter to you where you are, you will feel a strange compulsion to touch yourself whenever you see an attractive man. You will not stroke yourself, or even try to attain an erection, you will simply touch yourself whenever you see a man you find attractive. It can be as simple as a quick brush of your fingertips, or as obvious as grabbing and adjusting your package. You may even engage in a bit of pocket pool. But you will feel absolutely compelled to touch yourself when you see an attractive man. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

I wasn’t completely certain I should try any more with him for today, I had just given him two direct behavior modifications, and both were sexually charged. I didn’t want to overwhelm him. But, I told myself, the last thing I wanted to do today wasn’t really sexual for him. I decided to press on.

“David, you’re wearing a brand new pair of white crew socks on your feet, is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Good boy. Right now that pair of white socks you’re wearing is becoming fused to your feet. They are melting into your skin as you listen to my voice. They are becoming one with your legs and feet, as if they were your own skin now. You are unable to take off this pair of socks. You will not try to remove these socks; you will accept that they are a part of you. You will eat, sleep, bathe, and go about all your other daily and nightly routines with these socks on your feet. You will not try to remove them or change them. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“These socks will remain a part of you until I instruct you otherwise. You will not find it odd in any way to continue wearing these socks day and night indefinitely. They are a part of you now, David. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

I grinned. In a few days the odor coming from these socks should be pungent enough to make him cum with one sniff of his shoes. If David showers and then puts his wet socks in his shoes for the next several days the odor should be heady for him.

This would also be a good test for him. Behavior modification is a tricky business. If David could incorporate all of the new actions into his everyday activities and rationalize any thoughts of their abnormality as just his own idiosyncrasies, he would be ready for anything I could devise for him.

I returned his shoe to the foyer and sat back in my chair. “Furthermore, David, not only will you find that you can masturbate when you sniff your shoes, but you will be unable to masturbate without sniffing a pair of shoes. The stronger the smell, the hornier you will feel. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a good boy. Continue with your workouts. You want to pump up those muscles of yours. All other instructions remain in effect—you will not wear underwear under any circumstances, you will not report any of your suspicions about Mitch or the Club, and you will continue to find that hearing the word ‘slave’ makes you realize more and more that you want to be a slave. Lastly, each time you hear me say Closet Cop you will become more deeply relaxed and willing to do anything I tell you. Do you have any questions?”

“No.”

I looked him over. I hadn’t really wanted to take on a new boy to work with, but David was turning out to be entertaining. He wasn’t bad to look at either. “I think that’ll do it, David. You will not return here for a few days—let’s see, today’s Saturday, you will return here on Wednesday. Yes, I’ll see you in four days. 1...2...3.”

David opened his eyes. He didn’t appear to notice the erection bulging in his jeans or the small wet spot that had appeared where he had been leaking precum.

“You’d better get going, David. I don’t want to make you late for work.”

He checked his watch, then jumped to his feet. “Wow! How’d it get that late?”

“Well, you got me talking about slaves again and the time just flew. You do seem to enjoy these talks of ours about slaves, David. I had hoped that I would succeed in talking you out of wanting to become a slave, but it appears the more I talk the more set on being a slave you become.”

David smiled at me. “I want to be a slave,” he said absentmindedly. “Are you coming to the Club tonight?”

“It’s Saturday night. Where else would I be?” I walked him to the door and watched him put on his boots and tie them. He slipped into his coat and smiled at me again. “Thanks for taking the time to talk to me.”

“We’ll get together again later in the week, David.”