The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lately I haven’t been sleeping well.

Usually when I can’t rest, I log on to Vlad’s site to see how my boys are doing. After all I’m being paid a commission for turning them over to him and he’s got it set up so I can check real-time stats. Before I check traffic, I check the home page to see if anyone I know has been added.

Vlad has a whole host of sites, each one more twisted than the last. He’s got one site called Sock Puppets which is just pictures of blank faced guys naked except for socks. They’ve all got hard ons and are going about day to day activities like cooking or working a factory line. I totally do not get why gay dudes would want to see a platoon of guys in socks doing military drills but it’s one of the better sellers.

The Frat Haus is his other endeavor—it’s a bunch of supposedly candid webcam footage of a “straight” All-American frathouse. None of the “actors” are very convincing as straight men and I guess for some reason gay dudes think that Frat houses have oil wrestling matches on a daily basis. And there’s this guy in a wolf mascot outfit who fucks everybody.

Pissed Boys is pretty nasty as well. Vlad gets these guys drunk or high until they literally wet their jeans. Then they just drink beer (I hope its beer) and jerk off or dry hump till they pass out. I have no idea who Vlad’s target market is … or if he even has one. The dude is full=on nuts.

But the REALLY hardcore stuff is all in Vladimir’s Dungeon.

To get into Vladimir’s Dungeon you have to click a link below a pair of shiny military boots that says, “I am over 18, and ready to lick the boots of Master Vladimir!!!” Disturbingly if you click “No” it sends you to a Russian page filled with unicorns and dancing radishes. Anyway I click on Vlad’s stupid Communist era boots and the home page loads.

Holy shit.

I see my picture plastered everywhere, “LATEST EDITION—JUNIOR.” I’ve never set foot in to Vlad’s porn studio but there I am, strutting my junk for everyone to see. The only thing I can think at first is how unflattering some of the pictures are. I wish I’d shaved my chest a little more and done something with my messy brown hair. At best I look like a thin, shaggy, low-rent version of Colin Farrell.

“Vlad, you fucking bastard. I will kill you, “What have you done to me?” I get ready to close the laptop but then I remember my crazy Russian friend sometimes has an off sense of humor. Vlad conditioned one of his guys to fight crime and think he was a superhero name Captain Steel. It made the news.

He could have done this with Photoshop as a prank. There’s no way I would have jerked off and posed in front of a camera for all of these pictures without remembering. I click on a video clip at random—the preview is a picture of me on the floor, with my hands bound to something behind me with leather straps.

Off camera I hear Vlad’s voice, “What is your name?”

The guy who looks like me is sitting in a chair laughs nervously, “I’m Charlie.” My face feels hot. He sounds like me too.

“Why are you here?”

I shake my head at him, “I-i dunno I was watching a video and-- What am I doing here? And why am I in my underwear?”

“You do not remember that you are Vladimir’s worthless ???????”

It takes me a second to recognize the trigger he uses on his brainwashed victims. And in that instant—Woof. Woof woof arf, woof woof. Aoooooooooo, Woof!

“You see, Charlie—I am your Master,” woof woof, “You will be dog when I say you are to be dog. You understand perfectly but cannot speak or think like human.”

“WOOF!” Woof woof woof Woof.

“Good dog, Charlie. Come over here and lick Master’s boots,” Woof woof.

Pant pant pant. Woof. Slurp. Slurp, slurp slurp. WOOF!

“You like that don’t you? SPEAK!”

“??, ???????? ?????????!” I say eagerly. “I know that my place is at your feet.”

I’m watching this on the laptop, fumbling with the volume to make sure no one hears me saying, “Yes Master Vladimir” in mangled Russian. I can’t look away from the video. Everything that’s happening I feel like it’s happening to me. I can feel the floor on my knees as I’m looking up at the burly Master who owns me. I can almost smell his heavy cologne.

Master Vladimir snaps his fingers and two of his Brotherhood step into the frame as Master moves to work the camera. I recognize the tattooed one as Isaac—when I first encountered him he was just your average boy next door but over the months since his induction he’s had almost every inch of his arms and chest covered in ink. On his back is a huge spiral that pulsates hypnotically when he flexes.

The other one’s name is Rain—He spends most of his time as Master Vladimir’s dog and looks feral even when he’s walking on two legs. He’s got almost yellow eyes that peer out from his shaggy hair. He’s got a dog collar, harness, leather shorts and leaves the hair on his chest and arms untrimmed. He sniffs the air as he circles over to the other side of me.

Isaac and Rain place leather cuffs on my hands. I keep my head lowered in reverence. Being one of the Chosen is the greatest honor a slave can aspire to and I’ve been conditioned to treat their commands as Master Vladimir’s will. They lead me to the back wall of the dungeon. There’s a row of urinals with various whips and paddles hung on a chrome-plated pegboard wall.

Isaac binds my hands to the metal pipe behind urinal. I feel his breath on my ear, “I’ve always wanted to pay you back for doing this to me.” I feel the flick of a switchblade slide under the band of my Hanes and snap the elastic. I’m standing naked in front of the urinal like I’m taking a leak. Rain is forcing my legs apart.

I’m unable to move as I watch the video – I want to turn it off but at the same time I can’t help myself. My heart’s pounding a million miles a minute: What are they doing to me? Anal rape? Water sports? WHY AM I NOT DOING ANYTHING? ....Do I secretly want this?

Isaac pulls his dick out—like the rest of him, it’s inked with Cyrillic block letters and huge. “Shhhh…” he whispers as he embraces me from behind, “Relax and we’ll serve our Master together.” I feel his warm tool nudge against the base of my balls and then in one thrust—he’s inside me.

I moan wordlessly from the burning that must come from having a man dive nine inches into my ass. My head turns whips and I start trying to kiss him as he pounds me. He lets me for a second then pulls away teasingly, sometimes pulling my lip in his teeth.

Rain is on the floor working my dick hard with his mouth. Each lash of his tongue brings me closer to the edge but he always keeps me from bursting. Isaac is steady and gentle and I feel myself loosening. My body is twisting in pleasure as they work me from both sides.

Finally Isaac grabs my head firmly and begins French kissing me. Hard. Suddenly Isaac’s cum is dripping down my thigh. Rain takes a big handful and brings it up to my mouth. I lap it up like candy as he smears it on my face.

There’s more of the Brotherhood coming into the room; Mike, the burly Italian mechanic with the uncut dick as wide as a beer can hanging out of his zippered jumpsuit. Then there’s Colt, the sandy blond bare-chested cowboy chewing his hay straw. Behind them is Alex: the face of a model with his rock hard body completely encased in gleaming black latex and buckled straps.

Isaac pulls out and laughs to the others, “I think slave bait’s ready for more. Who wants sloppy seconds?” He gives my but a loud spank, leaving a red mark on my cheek.

Rain pounces on me. He twines his legs around me as I strain to support him. He’s biting playfully on my neck and scratching his nails down my shoulders and arms. My face is red and slick with sweat as I’m getting fucked. I look like a real porn star as I toss my head and moan for my Master.

Isaac stands to the side gently stroking my cock and gently running his finger along the edge of my dickhole. I squeeze every last bit out of Rain’s dick with my cheeks as I lean my head back to nibble his ear. I arch my back and thrust myself around his cock, forcing him to explode inside me.

“More,” I hear myself say breathlessly as I collapse against the urinal, my hands cuffed above me.

Mike is up next—his semi hard dick inches from my face. He flops it in front of me like a tasty sausage and I desperately pull against the handcuffs. I can’t reach even as I strain my tongue to touch his dripping foreskin. He laughs, “I only let real men suck this, pig.” He throws off his jumpsuit and stands in his full hairy glory.

He turns around and shoves his beefy ass onto my face. With one strong hand he reaches around and buries me in his crack while he flexes his arm for the camera. Rain and Isaac kneel on either side of his dick, working their mouth and hands along the shaft until it’s hard as steel. They kiss sloppily over the tip of his cock as they service him.

And me? I’m just eating this dude’s ass, my cheeks pressed against his, with only a brief pause to get some air.

After a while Mike’s dick pops like a champagne bottle all over his hairy chest. He exhales heavily and rubs it all over himself. He flexes his leg ever so slightly to indicate he’s done with me and I fall contented back to my place against the urinal.

Colt and Alex come up on either side, hard and ready. I can’t decide who I want to service more. I take Colt’s rod in my mouth and try to fit as much as I can. He’s lazily rubbing his hand on his broad chest, playing with his nipple through his light dusting of chest hair. He smiles and tips his hat at me as I throat him.

But as soon as I’ve tasted Colt, I whip back over to Alex who stands ready like a statue. He looks straight ahead without expression. His shaft is long and red; I let my tongue slide down the swollen underside. I switch between servicing each man while they stroke themselves in a perfect rhythm. As the intensity increases they step closer until their meat is touching.

Colt pulls my hair back as they both jam their cocks in my mouth. There’s barely room for my tongue to move but I try my best to worship them both. Colt pulls out and starts pumping his hot load all over my face. Alex, who is now grunting heavily, follows with impressive series of squirts and I try to catch as much of it in my mouth.

I try to catch my breath but there’s a new figure—a paunchy guy in an orange prison jumpsuit and gas mask. His arms are tied behind his back. Isaac and Mike are pinning him down.

The Master’s voice speaks, “I have present for you. Charlie, meet Junior.”

The man in the gas mask looks at me but all I can see is my cum-drenched face reflected in the lenses. The voice from inside is soft and hesitant, “Son? Is that really you?”

I’m not in the bedroom watching this. I’m right there. “NO!” I look over at Vlad and his camcorder and all the other guys standing in a circle, stroking their cocks and laughing. I yell trying to rip the pipe out of the wall with my cuffs. “I’LL FUCKIN’ KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!”

Vlad waves his finger at one of his henchmen. Mike reaches down and begins to pull dad’s gas mask off while Isaac unties my dad’s hands.

And there he is—looking the same as the day he left my alcoholic mother and our dysfunctional family to go explore his “alternative lifestyle” in Los Angeles. “Charlie, you’re all grown up now,” he says tenderly. “I just want you to know that —“

I start to sob because I know what happens next.

“…God, Junior, you smell…. Wonderful,” and he begins to reach toward me.

“AAAAAAAAAAAGGGHH!!!!!” I scream as I throw the sheets off my sweating body. I grab my drool encrusted pillow and start punching as hard as I can. When my eyes adjust to the darkness I can see my laptop still sits closed, under a plate of half eaten lasagna on my credenza.

I pull my cell phone out and his speed dial.

“Charles?” A sleepy voice answers, “Are you having another dream?”

“It was horrible, Doc,” I say staring at the down feathers on my shaking knuckles, “It was the same as before only this time I was a-a dog and it went on for longer. What’s he doing to me, Doc?”

“You need to stop watching gay porn before bed, Charles,” Dr. Saunders is calm as ever, “As for Vladimir, I can run some more brain scans, but I found no abnormality in your theta wave patterns to indicate any hypnotic conditioning. Besides, you would need to be vulnerable to the pheromone in order for his ridiculous operant conditioning to be any kind of threat. Thirdly, ??????????? ?????? has had no effect on you in a waking state. It is just a dream, Charles.”

“Then why am I having them? What does it mean?”

“While I don’t typically dispense psychoanalytic etiology for the relatively random content of dreams, I’d wager that these episodes are an expression of buried remorse you feel about selling those young men into sexual slavery. Or perhaps you merely feel anxiety toward Vladimir—he is quite despicable.”

“I dunno, Doc… “

“I know you don’t like working with Vladimir but as long as my research is funded out of pocket, we need him. But he needs our cooperation more.” The Doc pauses, “Are you going to be okay tonight or do I need to bring over additional sedative?”

“Yeah I’ll be fine,” I say, “But I really need to talk to you tomorrow.”

“I’ll prescribe you some hypnogogic aids in the morning. Bye Charles. “

As I sink back into the waterbed, I realize the whole time I’ve been on the phone my dick has been hard as a rock. I glare at it for a long time, “You fucking traitor.”