The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

He was about to pull away when he saw a guy in a pair of ass hugging Dockers and a blue T-shirt cross the parking lot. He recognized the bleach blonde tips of the man’s hair. It was Justin. Justin caught his stare and waved. Then almost against his own will Gino got out of his car and said. “Hey is that invitation still open man?” What was he doing?

“HUH?” Justin asked.

Fuck he’s gonna make me say it fuck...“You know to get m rug removed” He said with a forced chuckle.

Justin’s Eyes lit up, “Sure man! Her get In my car and we can go over together, I’ve been putting off getting a wax myself.”

A WAX? Isn’t that what chicks do? Why the fuck would I get a WAX? He thought as he walked hesitantly to Justin’s car. He climbed into the passenger seat and felt a little cramped in the two-person sports car. He was a little big for the seats. “How much is it.” Gino said making awkward conversation.

Justin jumped into the driver’s seat and got himself situated but before he started the car he gave himself a long look in the mirror. “Don’t worry man I got you!”

“What?! You don’t have to I got money...”

“Don’t worry just think of it as a “first time” gift.” He said with a sly smile. Gino got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and all his instincts were telling him to get the fuck out of this guys car or at least slug the bitch but instead he LAUGHED!

After about a 15-minute drive through the city they ended up at a saloon in a neighborhood Gino head never been in before. There were all kinds of weird stores and a lot of those rainbow signs you usually see Queers holding up like crucifixes. They walked into the saloon and a short and well-coifed little Hispanic man behind the counter asked if Justin had an appointment. He just smiled and slipped the man a bill. Gino couldn’t see the quantity but from the guys face it most have been pretty big. The little guy showed them both to identical tables where two saloon women went to work removing all of Gino’s excess body hair. Just think how I’ll look with out any chest hair, or the little bit hat was creeping on to my back. I’ll look nice and buff. And no one will really be able to notice a lot of guys shave their chests. I mean it’s not like I’m gonna get rid of all my hair. I still got leg hair and I sure as hell ain’t gonna shave my dick like Justin...Gino became so lost in the soothing relaxation of the procedure and the massage that accompanied it that he must have dozed off.

“Your finished sir,” the one girl said as she picked up her supplies and left the room. Gino opened his eyes groggily and looked over to see the still lump of Justin’s body. Gino crawled laboriously off the table. He walked over t the full-length mirror that adorned the room so he could see the definition in his newly shaved pecs.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Gino grunted incredulously. The mirror reflected an olive skinned Italian guy with shaggy black hair and that was all that remained of what had been Gino Salvatore. His body was completely denuded of hair from pec to ankle he was a smooth as a baby. As he gazed in shock at his reflection he began to realize just how different he looked. Without his hair his muscles seemed almost bigger, more pronounced. His entire body seemed to have an almost round symmetry. The smooth skin on his thighs rolled sensuously with every move his leg made. His big pecs looked like it would take both hands to grab their mass. He also noticed how young he looked almost like an over grown manly version of himself at 19. He caught himself smiling at the reflection...

“So you like it?” Justin asked from behind him.

“I didn’t know you were gonna give me the whole treatment.” Gino said accusingly

“I’m sorry I though that’s what you wanted...,” Justin said coming up from behind him. Justin laid his hand on Gino shoulder his face stared in the mirror right behind Gino’s ear. But Gino was oblivious to him; he was to engrossed in staring at his new image in the mirror.

“It makes everything look bigger...” Gino said in an almost daze as he flexed a biceps.

“It certainly does,” Justin said in a voice that just dripped anima lust. Justin who was also nude bent down and got on his knee’s “Make EVERYTHING, look bigger that is.” Gino was only shocked out of his contemplative revere for a second so he only had a quick warning of what Justin was about to do. He felt Justin’s strong chin brush against his inner thigh as Justin kissed Gino clean shaven crotch, then in one quick swoop he engulf Gino’s dick and took all of it’s girth down to the pit of his throat. Gino cried out in pleasure and surprise. He braced himself against the table and let Justin go to work on his throbbing member. His mind tried to tell him to shove this faggot off his cock but he was to enthralled by raw sexual ecstasy. Justin tongued Gino’s dick like a pro and gave him the best blowjob he had ever had. Justin would tease him by taking him to the brink and pulling back and then taking him to the brink again. They went on for what seemed t be an eternity. Gino began to buck in Justin’s mouth and realized that he was rubbing the Nipple ring on Justin’s pec. How had he been doing that? His other hand was running through Justin’s hair guiding the man’s head onto his cock. Gino stiffened his grip on Justin’s head and thrust his hips into the other man’s face and came with more fury and tremulous passion then he ever had came before. Justin swallowed load after load of cum until it began to leak passed his lips.

Justin finally let go off his hold on his dick and stood up. Gino’s whole body seemed to sag against the table, he was completely spent. Justin put his hand on the back of Gino’s head and before he knew it His lips were locked with the other man’s. He could feel Justin’s tongue exploring his mouth and something else...it was the taste of his own cum. But instead of pushing the queer off of him he thought it was only polite to at least thank him with a kiss. So the two of them spent another 15 minutes in an impassioned session of kissing.

When they finally emerged into the outer Saloon with their clothes back on. They went to leave but the Little Hispanic man insisted they stay. “Where do you think you’re going girl?” He said to Gino. “You’re not done yet! We still have to do something with that diseased haircut of yours! Honey, its time to put this old dog down her day is done.” The black clad hairdresser said as he sat Gino unwillingly down in a chair. “Lets see...hmmm...something butch?”

“WHAT?” Gino said suspiciously as the little Spanish man wetted his somewhat long hair.

“No...I know, don’t worry babe you’ll Die!” and then he proceeded to snip and cut and style in flurry of action. He had just finished cutting about half of the length of Gino’s hair when he began to apply all kinds of chemicals that smelled like battery acid. He wetted his hair again and continued styling.

“DONE!” he exclaimed and used all his strength to move Gino’s large frame to the center mirror. For the second time that day Gino didn’t recognize himself. Most jarring was that his jet-black hair was now completely yellow blonde. Where it once was a deep Italian black it now was chemically peroxide blonde. And not only that but it much shorter. Ha had a Roman style cut short and tight but he had styled the bangs up so they stood up and out. Half his hair lay in pools of black strands around him. He looked like something out of Spin magazine.

“You look damn good!” Justin said into his ear. Gino was still unsure but he did like the way his dyed hair contrasted with his black eyebrows and olive skin.

As they were leaving Gino was lost in thought trying to reason out what was happening to him but every time he really thought about it his mind would cloud over and he would want to look in the nearest mirror again. He saw Justin hand money to the Spanish guy, and he started to protest but Justin just smiled and said, “Nothing’s to good for my baby.”

Your what? Gino thought. But he was interrupted by the stylist who came over and gave him a light kiss on the cheek, “Have fun tonight babe!” the he swished off and for some incredibly fucking odd reason He noticed how good the guy’s little Latino ass looked in those leather pants.

“What did he mean. Have fun tonight?” Gino asked once they were back on the street.

“Oh I just told him we might go to a club or something later, to scope out the scene.” Justine answered dismmisively.

Gino felt a surge of uncommon excitement. “Man, I’m all about goin to a club tonight and getting my swerve on!”

Justin’s big suggestive smile reappeared. “Alright!” then he looked at Gino critically. “But it’s getting kinda late and I don’t think you should go out in just a pair Jeans and a T-shirt.”

Gino looked at his reflection in the shop glass and realized that he did look kind of ragged. The man who stared back at him eyed him critically too. The styled blonde hair and his hairless mounds of pec muscle that practically seemed to burst from the wife-beater T-shirt, made Gino think that the reflection was someone else, someone real sexy and horny. A big stud...but someone else. The T-shirt showed off his Abs and pec’s and contrasted nicely with his skin, making him looking even bigger but it was a little underdressed. And the pants were just to damn big they didn’t show anything and they made him look like some no class hood kid. The pants definitely had to go; he wondered why he ever even dressed in them to begin with. “I guess I could go home and change....”

“No I have the perfect Idea.” Justin said as he grabbed Gino by his large hand. Gino felt a weird sense of delight at Justin’s touch. His heart almost skipped a beat and he got all queasy. He let Justin lead him down the crowded street like a puppy dog on his arm. Gino was so enthralled at the notion of Justin holding him that he hardly noticed his behavior, somewhere at the back of his mind the very little part of him that was still resisting and could now see the changes for what they were screamed, Fuck this! I’m not a Queer I don’t what to be some kind of faggot bitch, I’m a man! I ain’t gonna let some guy fuck with my head I’m a... But by now that voice was quite far off and easily ignorable. And even that voice that last resort defense was slowly being subverted because now a secret hidden part of the man that once was Gino the skirt chasing Massagonist Guido who treated women like whores, dressed like a street thug, who was ready to have a bar room brawl at the drop of a dime and would beat up an innocent roommate just cause he was gay, that man was welcoming the changes.

Gino blindly let himself be lead by Justin’s gentle touch and didn’t even notice it when they ended up in front of a store that looked like it specialized in rave clothes. They walked into the store and before Gino could stop himself he took Justin’s hand. He was holding this guy’s hand! Justin and Gino browsed through clothes that were of any of a thousand shades of the rainbow and had as little cloth as humanely possible. Gino stayed in his contemplative fog as Justin went through the racks picking up and discarded clothing at will. He just let him take over and sat back and watched. His mind was racing a mile a minute with questions and sensations. What was he doing was Justin really interested him. Were they together? He would pause every now and again to sneak a quick glance at Justin’s tight ass struggle against the confines of his Dockers. What a fine ass. I just want to take in my hands and squeeze it and stroke my tongue up and down each cheek, Gino felt his cock stiffening under his thoughts. Oh yeah and wants my ass too I know he does I’ve seen him looking at me... and as they crissed crossed the store Gino made a point to show off his body to Justin stretching and flex every chance he got. But still under his now conscious mind lying dormant was the characteristics of the old Gino still fighting to get back in control. He would snap out of brushing his hand across Justin’s taunt chest and realize what he was doing and recoil, I’m not gay, I’m not... but he would eventually go right back and enwrap him in a muscular embrace.

“Here try this on and we’ll se how you look.”

Gino entered one of the dressing rooms in a daze. Slipping of his baggy shorts he turned around to put on the shorts when he saw that there was a pair of underwear for him. He instinctively pulled the strap of his over grown boxers and pulled them off. After careful closer examination of the underwear Gino was more then a little weary about putting them on. Were there was cloth (which wasn’t much) it was violent colors of neon orange and green. At first glance he thought they were briefs or at least bikini briefs...but they it was a thong. A pouch in front for his dick and just a strap for his ass. The reservations against putting this on were over flowing in abundance, and Gino had no intention what so ever of keeping them on but...he might as well see what they looked like. Gino rapidly extradited himself from the baggy formless boxers he was wearing. It took all of about three seconds to slide the three straps of material on. “Shit” Gino said as he saw his almost completely nude form. He was damn hot; all smooth and cut with only this thong between him and the world. They were small so they made his already prominent cock stick out farther; kind of propping it up between is thighs. They showed of his ass best. The thin strap dissected his big meaty cheeks of muscle making his bubble butt ass looked like to plump pistons when he moved. Without warning he started dancing, right there in the dressing room. Watching his body ripple and flex as he moved to music that only he could hear. He stayed like that mesmerized by his own erotic body and movement getting harder and harder at himself. How could I never know what a Stud I was! I am one hot bitch! He slipped into a pair of boots that seemed a little high, the pair of shorts and a meche T-shirt he finished up by slipping on some jewelry Justin had handed him and turned around.

If he could have found his voice right there he would have screamed in shock, and terror. Gino Salvatore had totally disappeared. He didn’t recognize the man before him at all. Except that he did recognize him. Before him stretched in the floor length mirror was a man who obviously spent all his waking time at the gym, before he had only thought of himself as handsome enough to get women but this man was a muscular sex god. With bulging arms, jutting mounds of pec muscle and thighs thick enough to crack bricks. He was a guy so obsessed with his muscles that he had shaved his entire body just to accentuate his raw male sexuality. The guy in the mirror was also obviously gay. To begin with he had on a pair of black shiny boots that reached from his foot to his hip, the upper part f the man’s hairless thigh bulged flagrantly out of the top of the boot over exposing the region between the boot and the skimpy lycra shorts he was also sporting. The shorts were little less then Speedo’s with cuffs. They were fire engine red and obscenely called attention to the huge pouch of his crotch, outlining every contour of his blatantly erect cock. The shirt, which barely contained his powerful torso, was a much bigger statement. It was see through and clung to his body like a second skin, revealing his washboard Abs, his incredible shoulders and of course his dark round, engorged nipples. His arms burst from the short white sleeves making them look like swelled guns. But worst of all was the words emblazoned in bold face on the shirt, “Am I Str8 or not? Only my Lover knows”, and then on the back it read, “but HE’ll never tell.”

Gino looked away from the man’s overtly exaggerated suggestive clothing into his face. The short peroxide blonde hair and almost luscious face seemed to scream agreement more then the clothing. Two hoops hung from booth ears and he had a small gold chain with the word BRAT as a pendant.

Gino looked at the gay man, the club kid, the humpy queer boy he had somehow suddenly become and for a moment it was enough to shock him back into being his old self. Suddenly the Gino of the night before had return the mad ass Gino who had been irate when the girl he had deemed worthy to use his dick turned him down, the hard drinking ghetto wanna be whose hardcore masculinity was the fiber of his being. He stared in horror. First at the queer ass clothes and faggoty boots that looked like they should adorn some bitch go-go dancer not a man. He couldn’t even understand what the writing on the shirt meant but he knew it wasn’t good. Then he realized all his hair was gone. The soft mat that usually covered his chest had disappeared leaving his over developed pecs to look like tit.s even the trail that lead to the bush around his cock was gone. And from they way the little shorts dipped down, revealing an all to smooth abdomen he could guess that his bush had disappeared as well. The most jarring part however was when he saw what had happened to his hair. His long black hair was gone in it’s place was some pansy ass over styled BLONDE crew cut! Someone had DYED his hair!

He immediately began to undress but as he went to pull off his shirt his tense vein covered hand brushed against one f his already sensitive nipples. This sent a shock wave of erotic vibrations through his body that sent his mind reeling again. Before he knew it he was thumbing the nipple and feeling the mass and firmness of his chest. He began rubbing the smooth pillars of muscles in his thighs and began to caress the rock solid engorged dick that was encased in the skintight shorts. He felt so sexy, so erotic, like he turn ANYONE on. He could fuck anyone he wanted. He was so hot and sexed up he could just pull someone of the street and fuck and suck till dawn. He was a stud. The kind of hunk that made people on the street instantly wet or better... Hard. He was gay. He was queer. And he mother fucking loved it.