The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Give it up for our fourth-place finisher, Dominic ‘The Beast’ Bestiagli!” Dom stepped forward, tried to put on a big smile, and popped a bicep pose for the crowd. The applause helped his ego somewhat, but inwardly, it kept ringing through his head, ‘...fourth-place finisher...’ Fourth. Shit. All that work, six months of watching every crumb of food that went in, Genna walking out because she’d finally decided he ‘didn’t have enough time’ for her, all the strain, pain, and sweat, and standing up there like a piece of meat for a bunch of fags to ogle, for fourth place. He gave a wave, and walked off to the wings, back toward the dressing rooms.

“You looked great out there, Beast. You really deserved to win.” It was some little red, round guy, somebody’s publicist or something, trying to suck up. It had got to be like an extra sense for Dom, he knew the guy was a faggot, he just nodded slightly and kept going. He was right, though, damnit. The Beast should have come in first. The guy could afford some insincere flattery, his boy must still be out on stage. The fat queer trailed him, he could feel the beady eyes glued to his ass. In a minute, he was gonna try and get his hands on him, and things might get ugly. Sure enough, there was the soft hand on his arm, timid, womanly. He stopped and turned, one fist starting to clench. “I’d like to talk about...” Dom pulled his arm away, and put up a hand. He smiled, but it was mostly sneer.

“Look, maybe later. Okay? I just want to clean up and get dressed right now.” The guy gave him the hurt-but-understanding simper, Dom had seen that one before, too.

“Sure. Sure. I know how it is. My guys have been there.” Guys? This faggot had talked more than one sap into letting him handle him? Out in the auditorium, the audience roared as second place was awarded. The guy scuttled back toward the stage, and Dom went into the dressing room. The mirrors all over the walls threw back his reflection as he walked through. Goddamit! There hadn’t been but one guy out there he’d thought looked better, but FOURTH? He looked at the body in the mirrors, watched the shoulders slump, then stalked across to his stuff. He picked up his duffel, rooted through and found his shaving kit. He pulled off his posing suit and tossed it in the bag, then went back to the showers. As he stepped under the spray, he heard the door open. There was a confused babble of voices, and then the door shut again. He kept his head under the water, letting it pound against his face. He knew who it was, it was Rex ‘Tyrannosaur’ Anderson, and he’d probably won it. The only guy who he thought he might lose to. He heard his deep bass voice, cutting through the sound of the shower.

“Thanks, Mr. Thigpen. I couldn’t have done it without you. Let me just get this oil off me, and get dressed, then I’ll talk to whoever you want.” Dom heard the fat queer from backstage answer him, breathlessly.

“No need for that, Rex. The body’s what they all want to see, it’s what won you the trophy! I have the rep from BioRipped out there! You know what he’s offering you?” Dom scrubbed the soap hard against his skin. Then he HAD won it. That pretty-boy face, that’s what had done it. The judges didn’t care how big you were, or how defined, as long as there was a good-looking puss at the top. So his own face was a little sharp, he didn’t have a cleft in his chin, or sky-blue eyes, or perfect cheekbones. He had more going in his physique, what were they, blind? He heard Rex again.

“He’ll still be there. The body’s what I show onstage. When there’s some space between me and them. I’ll just be a few minutes, you tell them I’ll be right there.” The door opened, the wash of voices echoed in, then quieted again as the door shut. Dom heard the lock snap, then a short sigh. He kept his head down, looking at the tiles on the floor, rinsing the oil off him, as he listened to the clink and rattle of Rex pulling out his own shower stuff. “Hey, Dom. That was a hell of a run you gave me. Those judges got their heads up their asses, they shoulda given you better.” He glared over the partition at Rex. Up yers, don’t throw me any bones. Rex seemed to guess what he was thinking, not that it took much brains to figure it out. “I mean it. You’re a helluva contender, I’m really gonna have to push it to stay ahead of you. So don’t feel bad, this is only your fifth competition, you’ll get there.” He shot that incredible smile of his, and Dom felt his anger start to subside. He was a little surprised that the Tyrannosaur knew how many shows he’d done. He managed to curl the corners of his own mouth upward a bit.

“Thanks.” Rex turned on his shower, and began to lather up. Dom kept glancing over at him as they showered, just as he had been doing all day, when he’d first walked in to find Rex already stripped and judiciously eyeing himself in the mirror. He guessed then that if anybody was going to win, it’d be Rex, even his own cocky self-assurance had to admit that this was a superior specimen. But he couldn’t seem to figure out why, WHY it was, he just couldn’t put a finger on it, that’s why he’d kept stealing looks at him all afternoon, though he’d barely even spoken to Rex, answering his friendly ‘small talk’ with short replies or surly stares. Rex’s eyes were shut as he dropped his head forward, letting the water pound against his lats, rubbing his soapy hands over his abdomen. Dom knew he had the size over Rex, Dom was all about mass, but somehow, Rex overall just seemed to ‘hang together’ better. The judges thought so, anyhow, he thought bitterly. Rex’s eyes opened, and he looked over. Dom flushed red, caught by Rex’s stare. He looked away quickly, and Rex gave a low laugh.

“How’s he do it? What’s the secret?” Dom looked back over, surprised. “That’s what you were thinking.” Dom nodded, his face burning. Rex turned off his shower and leaned his forearms on the tiled partition. Dom watched the movement of his arms, his shoulders, his chest as he leaned in. “I’ll tell you. Listen. Here is the secret. Listen to me. Listen to my voice.” There was something in his tone, something adamant, irrefutable, fascinating. His eyes caught Dom’s, held them. “You want to know how to win, how to be the best. I can tell you. I can teach you. Listen to me. Relax, feel the water washing down you, washing all your tension away.” Dom was staring, unblinking, at the sky-blue eyes, they were so deep, like looking into wells, there was something there in the depths, he could almost see it, shimmering, glistening, he found himself swaying closer toward Rex. “You’re relaxed, calm, serene. Listening to me, feeling the water rain onto your skin. The day has been so long, so tiring, you want to sleep now, to relax, and slip into a restful sleep.” Rex blinked, and Dom felt his eyelids drooping. So tired. He WAS tired, there was something at the bottom of those wells, shining, he was so relaxed. “Just let go, drift away from everything, like floating on a calm, still sea. Close your eyes and slip into sleep. Deeper and deeper.” Rex’s voice washed over him, he felt his mind sliding downward as his eyes shut. “You’re standing up, you’re straight and tall, a champion.” Rex’s words seemed to imprint themselves into his mind, like hot coals, glowing. Dom’s shoulders straightened, his chest came out. He was a champion. His chin came up. The voice was close at his ear now, Dom felt the water stop striking his body, felt Rex’s hand on his shoulder. “Straight and tall, standing sturdy as an oak. Like a bar of steel, unbending, rigid. You are made of steel, unyielding, solid. Strong. Powerful.” Dom felt his body begin to tip backward at the pressure of Rex’s hand, felt his bare feet leave the tiles, his heels slide along the floor as Rex pulled him along, a hand under each arm. He felt serene, almost disembodied from the shell of his being, yet aware of the smooth, cold tile under his heels, the pressure of Rex’s big hands against the sides of his chest, the stonelike rigidity of his whole body. He tipped upright again, the soles of his feet pressing onto the tile again. “When I press my hand on the top of your head, you will open your eyes. You will be looking into a mirror, a very special kind of mirror, a mirror that reflects your ideal self. You will see yourself in the mirror, the self you most want to be, the champion, strong, powerful, your ideal self.” Dom felt Rex’s hand on his head, and his eyelids flickered up. His reflection’s eyes were opening, too. He stared into its eyes, took in the massive musculature of its body, the heaped shoulders, the huge arms, the broad chest rolling down into the slim waist, the symmetry, the perfect shape, the corded, ripped quads and calves, all not just bigger but somehow better. No judge could look at that and give it fourth place. He heard Rex speak again, but he couldn’t see anything but the nude, flawless reflection, himself and yet not himself. “That is what you will see whenever you work out. That is what you’ll strive for with every rep, every set, every time you pick up a weight. You will push harder than you ever have, you will feel no pain or hurt when you do, only the sheer joy of building yourself to perfection.” The words etched themselves on Dom’s psyche, echoed like a mantra. Strive, every rep, every set. Perfection. “When I press my hand on the top of your head, your eyes will close again. The image you have seen will be ingrained in you, whenever you close your eyes, you will see it. Your ideal, the body you want to have, the body you must have.” Dom felt the pressure on his head again, though he couldn’t see anything but his reflection in the mirror. His eyelids closed, but the image remained, floating there in the darkness. He felt Rex’s hands under his arms again, lifting him; his feet left the floor and he felt himself carried, then set down again. “You will not be alone, Dominic. Together we will achieve your perfection, you and I. There is no one else who can do what I can, we are bonded together. You will do anything I ask, and in return, I will give you what you most desire.” Dom felt the words becoming an unalterable truth as he heard them spoken. Anything Rex asked. Bonded. No one else. The image of his perfection sharpened, clarified behind his closed eyelids. “My touch is like no other, the sensation is better than anything you have ever felt.” He felt Rex behind him, pressing his body against his back, his arms wrapping around his hips, his hands taking his cock and starting to stroke it gently. Rex’s cock was pushing in between Dom’s glutes, and he felt the sting of its penetration. Anything Rex asked. He felt his anus relax to allow Rex’s entry. His own cock was rising, the tactile pleasure erecting it as Rex’s hands began to rub harder. He stood, unmoving, rocking slightly forward as Rex pushed against him. The feeling seemed to radiate outward from the points of contact, rippling through his body. It was like nothing Dom had ever experienced, more sensuous than any women he’d had. That had been sweaty, unpleasant, usually disappointing; this was erotic, gratifying, filling him with exhilaration and delight. It rose, higher, seeming continually to open new avenues of delight in his mind, as he felt the warmth of Rex’s ejaculation inside him. He felt himself being tilted again, lifted. Rex’s strong arms were around him, he felt something cool and hard against his shoulders and ankles as he was set down again. His sense of balance told him he was lying, prone, supported only where he felt the cool hardness, but his body was locked in position, his arms felt as if they were comfortably dangling down at his sides, he was relaxed, standing upright. There was no sensation of stiffness or rigidity, only effortless ease. The rest of the universe was tilted, he was centered, he was where he should be. And soon, very soon, Rex would lead him to perfection. He was nearly there now, Rex would show him the path. The image of himself stood in his mind, perfect, attainable with Rex’s guidance. He felt the warmth of a mouth engulfing his erection, felt the hot pulsation of ecstasy shooting out of him, leaving him energized, fulfilled. Rex’s arms wrapped about him again, carried him, set him upright. He stood again on the tiles, and Rex’s voice flooded into him again. “Dominic, you have been given a great gift. I have given you this. You will do anything I ask, and in return, I will give you what you most desire. You will remember the state you are in now, the deep trance, deeper, deeper. When I say the words ‘Competitive Edge’ to you, you will return to this state. This is your trigger, you must instantly go into a deep trance, deeper and deeper, whenever I say the words ‘Competitive Edge’ to you. In a moment, you will feel the spray from the shower against you, and you will awaken. You will have no memory of being asleep, but you will remember your trigger and obey it, you will see the image of your perfection always in your mind and strive to achieve it. You will do anything I ask, and in return, I will give you what you most desire.” A jet of wet warmth splashed against Dom’s body, he was...was...his eyes fluttered open, he was looking at the incredible blueness of Rex’s eyes. “Tell you what, let’s get together tomorrow, we’ll go over your routine, and maybe I can show you some of my moves.” Dom nodded, answering Rex’s smile with his own. He felt comfortable with Rex, he’d always been mistrustful of other bodybuilders, nobody in this game wanted to help out anybody but themselves, but Rex was sincere, Rex would give him the competitive edge he needed. Rex turned on the water, began soaping his crotch.

“That’d be great. Listen, I should...I mean, I’m not a sore loser or anything, it’s just...you know, competing, sorry if I been an asshole...”

“Forget it. Ancient history, Beast.” Rex put an arm out over the partition, and they shook soapy hands. “Here on, you’re gonna be number one. I’ll see to that.” He gave that showstopper smile, and his other hand slapped onto the cap of Dom’s shoulder. Something bright was gleaming behind his blue eyes, Dom was leaning closer just to see what it was, his lips were parting, and he found himself kissing Rex full on the mouth, Rex’s tongue pushing against his. Behind them, the handle of the door rattled, but Dom’s mouth stayed firmly against Rex’s, oblivious. He could see, filling his vision, a single sky-blue eye, see the blaze at the bottom of the well, there within the image of his perfect self. His hand came up, took the back of Rex’s head, and slowly stroked. He leaned sideways as Rex moved past the partition, came into his stall, and pressed his whole body against him. Dom knew what Rex asked, and he would do it. Anything he asked. He slipped down, knelt, and took Rex’s hardon in his mouth as Rex’s hands ran across his head, his neck, his back. There was a thin chirrup sound from a cell phone. “Competitive Edge.” Dom froze, his hands on Rex’s thighs, his mouth wide. He felt Rex step away, leaving him kneeling, a sculpture of flesh. He heard Rex’s voice. “Yeah, he’s all ours now. No, no trouble at all. Out like a light.” He felt Rex’s hand on his head. “Gimme a couple more minutes, then we’ll be out there. He’s gonna be the best, you’ll see. Your next champion.”