The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Opera with Webster-san

Tim led the way to his private box at the opera. I meekly followed a step behind submissively. When we arrived he had me sit down next to him and promptly unzipped my pants and whipped my cock out from my underwear like it was second nature. I sat there calmly and allowed this to happen without even flinching.

“So Patrick, it seems like your training is progressing well,” Tim commented as he stroked my cock into a frenzy. “You must feel quite embarrassed and powerless to be out in public and having your privates fondled.”

He was right, I was embarrassed, but somehow despite that I had no ability, or even will power to move away from Tim’s control.

“Oh, and Patrick,” Tim continued, “I know you might get a bit excited as I continue this hand job, but I expect you to make absolutely no sounds.”

His words were like a command. Suddenly I found myself completely unable to make a sound.

Tim laughed quietly at my predicament, “oh and one other command Patrick, despite my work on your cock, you will not orgasm until the very end and you will pay close attention to the opera no matter what I do to you.”

I nodded, but made no sound.

Not cumming was slightly easier than I expected, but focusing on the opera was more difficult. Tim would squeeze my balls painfully or tweak my nipples through my shirt at the most in opportune moments and yet I had to try to keep my eyes and ears on stage.

The whole experience was awful. Strange thing was that I felt a bit schizophrenic about the whole thing. The Patrick Cody I had always been hated the torment. The Patrick Cody I was becoming loved every minute of my escort duties for Webster-san and relished each of the tweaks he found to drive me crazy.

Just as I contemplated my schizophrenia, the opera came to a close and I shot a massive load of cum onto the floor in front of me. Tim released my cock and applauded the performance. I was worn out and remained seated in my chair with my now limp dick dangling between my legs.

“Patrick,” Tim said, “I hope you enjoyed the opera since I’ve purchased your escort services for every performance this season.”

I nodded appreciatively, but remained sitting impassively.

“Tsk, tsk,” Tim said, “look at the time and you haven’t even taken your evening dose of the mind control pills.”

With the mention of my vitamin supplement, I suddenly felt nauseous for not having taken my evening dose. I reached into my pocket and found the maindokontorooru pirus and then quickly took one and immediately felt better.

Tim chuckled again, “well the training at the club is top notch; put your dick away and lets go back to the limo.”

I immediately put my cock back in my tuxedo pants and stood up to follow Tim out to the limo. He led the way and again I followed meekly, a step behind him.

In the limo, Tim gave some directions to the driver in Japanese which I could not quite understand and then raised the partition.

“Just so you know Patrick, once your training is over I won’t have any special claim to you,” Tim said, “but for now as your sponsor, I get free use of you within certain guidelines.”

I nodded.

Limo Ride

“You can talk freely as long as you remain respectful Patrick.”

“Webster-san, domo arigatou gozaimasu,” I responded politely.

“Good,” Tim continued, “a bottom costs about $200,000 to train. Members pay those costs as their final initiation fee, I won’t become a full ‘top’ member until your training is complete.”

“Two hundred thousand?”

Tim snorted, “your wardrobe alone was a significant chunk of that.” I looked down at my gorgeous Rolex watch. “But you are wondering about the rest, well the medicines and inoculations against the diseases are expensive and the psychoactive training drugs come at a great cost as well.”

“Webster-san, is that why when you told me not to speak I could not open my mouth?”

“Exactly Patrick, you are being injected every time you go to the club with massive doses of a mind control drug and then subjected to extensive programming sessions. The pills are boosters that raise your brain’s sensitivity to the drug itself.”

“Why?”

Tim grabbed me from the seat across from him and sprawled me over his lap and smacked my bottom firmly five times and then said, “Politeness, Patrick.” Then I was shoved back off his lap.

“Sorry Webster-san; what I meant was Webster-san, why are you programming me?”

“Actually, whether you can believe this or not, your selection as the bottom being paid for with my initiation dues was complete chance.”

“Really Webster-san?”

“Does that make you feel better about becoming a sex-worker, bottom?”

“Yes.”

Tim chuckled again, “I really did not expect it to be anyone I knew. I only found out while you were undergoing your first treatment.”

“Feel guilty?”

Apparently he did not, because I was hauled over his lap again for impoliteness. After the spanking was finished I quickly apologized: “Sorry Webster-san.”

“Not a problem, anyhow, the fact that it is you is irrelevant once the first three months of training are finished since you and I will only have the most general contacts.”

“But till then... Webster-san?”

“We will be having quite a bit of contact.”

“I look forward to it Webster-san,” I said the words but could not believe they had come out of my mouth.

Sex

We pulled up two blocks from the graduate apartments and I followed Tim out. “Follow at my side and respond normally to any law school chums.”

I took a step forward and walked along side Tim and into our apartment building. We took the elevator to my floor and I let the two of us into my apartment.

“Strip,” Tim said firmly and I wanted to resist and yet I could not. Instead I stripped naked and stood in front of him helpless to resist anything he might demand.

There was no condom, Tim forced himself onto me in a mad passion. We were barely inside the door and I was tackled on the floor and the part of my body and mind that wanted to struggle was completely unable to achieve any movement.

Tim fucked me passionately and was clearly enjoying the bareback sex. I found my body responding to please his needs and was helpless to resist. He achieve orgasm quickly and stood up and walked out leaving me on the floor like a used garment.

I fell asleep naked on the floor crying with Tim’s cum filling my ass.

I woke up the next morning with a bad headache and a burning desire to take my vitamin supplement.

The previous evening’s events were hazy. I could remember being at the opera with Tim and that was about it. I took my pill and felt better.

Dream Walker

The rest of Sunday was completely uneventful and the next day would be the start of my internship with the public defender.

I decided to shower the night before and while I was showering my tattoos seemed to glow faintly. But the more I tried to stare at them the more nauseous I became. Then I got the bright idea to force myself to remember my visits to the club and only succeeded in vomiting.

Deterred and frustrated at my predicament as a drug controlled sex slave there was very little I could do to fight back that did not induce tremendous waves of nausea.

Finally I set upon a plan. I had been able to train myself to remember and write down my dreams. I cued myself to dream about my training at the Iroppoi Herususentaa and then lay down to go to sleep.

I woke the next morning at 0400 and found two pages of notes in my dream code. I took the notes with me to the kitchen and popped my maindokontorooru piru without even thinking about it.

At the table I pulled out my laptop and transcribed my dream notes.

It was devastating.

The most devastating aspect was that I could not see an out. Even reading the instructions reinforced their power over me. I found myself shredding the paper on which I recorded my dreams and deleting the files on my laptop.

Then I vomited all over the table and felt like shit for being a sex-slave and worse still for trying to decode my programming.

Public Defender

I cleaned myself up and then got dressed for my new job.

At the public defenders office the next morning I involved myself totally in learning about my internship and put all of the thoughts about the club out of my mind.

It wasn’t until lunch time when I crossed paths with Tim in the courthouse cafeteria that the club came back to my mind.

“Hey Cody, how you doing,” he said jovial as ever.

“Nauseous.”

“Just relax, working in court will become second nature.”

“Not that.”

“Oh,” Tim said, “sorry, I actually am finding this pretty nerve wracking.”

“Nah, the court stuff is a piece of cake, I will get lead on the bail hearings for petty felonies this afternoon. It’s this club stuff.”

“Is it bothering you?”

“Yes,” I said a bit too loudly for the cafeteria.

Tim offered, “Patrick just go talk to Lane if you aren’t feeling well about your workout?”

Something about what he said calmed me immensely. I decided that I would go straight from work to the club and talk to Lane Tanaka about how I was feeling. I popped one of the maindokontorooru piru and Tim and I finished by talking only about our mornings.

Tim was finding the whole experience at the DA completely unnerving, but I was actually doing fine. I mused, some of the training from the club was generally helpful for helping me deal with a new situation like my job.

We parted ways and as promised by my mentoring attorney I got to serve as lead on the bail hearings. It felt good to be in the lead again and at the end of the hearing the assistant DA commented to my mentor that I had performed well.

My mentor commented, “Good work Patrick, the hard part is continuing to care after many years.”

“Thanks Nancy, how long have you been doing this?”

“Ten years.”

“Do you still believe in what you are doing?”

“Most days, yes. I work out every evening to let off steam and that helps a lot.”

“Cool, I’m going to hit my club actually.”

“Enjoy,” Nancy said as she took her briefcase and left the courtroom. I paused briefly and then followed her example.

Club

I reached the club around five and remembered to take my pill on the bus ride over. At the club the same receptionist as always greeted me and invited me to sit for Tanaka-san.

When Lane finally emerged over an hour had passed and he guided me upstairs. “Sit, sit, Cody-san.”

“Thanks, I’ve just been feeling very nauseous.”

“Cody-san, that is terrible, Thompson-san had a similar problem during his training. He fought the training drugs the longest of any boy in the history of the clubs worldwide: one year.”

“I don’t want to work here, I want my life back.”

“Cody-san, let’s look at some basic facts here, you did fill out the application of your own free will, no?”

“Yes.”

“And you came here to the club for the first time of your own free will, no?”

“Yes, but then you drugged me and my life has been upside down ever since.”

Lane sighed, “we only want willing bottoms at this club if you don’t want this job we can give it to someone else. We get hundreds of applications a week, we only select the best. You have the potential to beat even William Thompson. But the best are always difficult.”

“So if I say I want to leave I can just leave?”

“Yes, we would of course have to deprogram you.”

“And if I stay?”

“You will make a generous living, have fine clothing, and enjoy more sex than most men ever dream about.”

“For how long?”

“Most bottoms stay with us three-to-five years and then move on into a relationship with a client who must then resign the club or become a staff member.”

“What about Tim, I mean Webster-san, did he really have no idea I would be his trainee?”

“Cody-san, no initiate knows who their payments will bring in, the situation with you and Webster-san is unfortunate. By the time I realized the mistake it was too late to adjust course as your programming was underway.”

The needle went in.

I woke up in a small white prison cell in a cold sweat. “Let me out!”

The lights began to flicker and an audio track in Japanese came on.

I passed out again.

The next thing I knew I was walking out of the club in a clean suit towards work and took a moment to pop my pill.

Seeking Help

On the way to work I resolved to extricate myself from the club. I was assigned as a clerk in a capital case going to trial and lost track of time. By the time I finished the day I found myself heading back to the club.

I did not want to go but I felt like I had no choice.

At the club Lane spent two hours making me practice a variation of the squat thrust technique with a dildo and then with his own cock. As we parted he commented that I was showing potential to be a better bottom than Thompson again.

That made me feel good.

I got home around 2100 and remembered my earlier thought and decided to try an ex-boyfriend for help. “Hey Raiza,” I said over the phone.

“Patrick?”

“Yeah, sorry to call so late, but I could use a hand,” I stammered, my nausea started to set in, but I steeled myself, “can I come over?”

“Patrick we broke up three months ago and not so much as a call and now you want me to drop everything so you can come over?”

“I need help Raiza, I’m in trouble,” I said as I vomited into my trashcan.

“Are you vomiting?”

“Yes, please,” I said and started to cry.

“Ok, stay put, I’ll be over.”

I put down the phone and curled up crying in bed until the phone rang again with security asking me to sign Raiza in. We hugged warmly and he came up to my apartment.

It was close to midnight already, “Look Raiza, you may not believe anything I’m about to tell you but it is the truth, and I need help, and you are the only person I trust to help me.”

Raiza’s emotions at that moment were indecipherable. A young Arab from Saudi Arabia raised in a strict Islamic family but educated in the West, Raiza had always been an enigma. Our relationship had failed when he had been overcome with self-loathing about being gay.

“I’m here Patrick and I’m listening.”

“Ok, I signed up to join a health club.”

“FUCK! You hauled me across town cause you are too wimpy to get out of a health club contract!”

“NO, Please Raiza, listen,” I pleaded.

“Is this some fucking mind trick to trick me into living a disgusting faggot lifestyle?”

“RAIZA,” I screamed his name and pounded my fists into his chest and then vomited bile.

He helped me to the bathroom and let me explain about the situation.

“What a mess Patrick,” he remarked as he looked down at the floor to avoid making eye contact. “You always had to be on top with me, I never knew you would take it up the ass.”

“Raiza there is a lot more to this then whether I’ll take it up my ass.”

“True,” he commented, “so what should I do kidnap you and tie you down until you go cold turkey on their programming or something?”

I thought about it, it was not as crazy as it seemed. “Well maybe if you came with me you could make them put me back to normal?”

“Maybe they could help me stop being gay?”

“Raiza they seem to be more into the gay business than into making people straight. Plus once they drug you.”

“Ok, well let’s go together and perhaps we can straighten out your situation. I’ll meet you at the courthouse at four?”

“Great,” I said, “and thanks Raiza, maybe we could try being friends again?”

“Patrick you know how hard it is for me to reconcile my upbringing with my sexual and emotional needs for male relationships.”

“Fair enough, I can sleep on the couch, you take the bed.”

“Who says I’m staying?”

“It’s one in the morning Raiza.”

“Fair enough,” he said leaving the room and taking my bed.

I curled up on the couch.

Frontal Assault

Making it through the day was challenging and despite my best efforts my attempts to avoid taking the mind control drugs that masqueraded as vitamins was unsuccessful.

When Raiza arrived in the courtroom, my anxiety level actually climbed rather than dropped. I broke into a sweat as Raiza approached.

“You ok Patrick?”

“Just nervous, you?”

“Yeah a bit, you look awful though.”

“Let’s get this over with.”

Raiza hailed a cab and we were dropped off in front of the club. I was drenched with sweats and in terror. “We don’t have to do this Patrick.”

“I want to be free.”

“Ok,” Raiza said as he guided me into the club.