The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter 11

It was late at night. Wylan laid in his bed and looked up to the cieling. As planned, he had reduced the drug in the last days and he observed several changings in Chad’s behaviour.

As planned, the boy was a little more independent now but also started to argue from time to time. Chad’s independence came back and the boy again used his mind.

Wylan wondered, if he’d be able to fix a level that would be convienient for him? To make the boy as submissive as possible, but as independent as necessary? The more the boy turned out to be independent, the less he could be submissive. That was a problem and Wylan thought about asking Hutler for advice.

But Hutler still thought that Chad was drugged more, not less. Wylan could vividly remember the commanding tone Hutler had used as he told Wylan to give Chad more. Asking him would mean to tell him the truth and Wylan didn’t want to do that.

He had to solve this problem on his own. Wylan never studied psychology or chemistry so all he could do was try.

One day, to reduce the dose and then, the other day to give Chad more of it—this was no concept for the future. An unconvienient situation all in all. He would have to find a solution.

Chaddy’s reaction to the drug was immediate—which meant reducing it caused an effect only a few hours later. And Wylan was afraid to make a mistake.

In this situation, he was glad, that Elliot, his friend, was about to visit him. Elliot probably could help him. Before Chad became Wylan’s slave, he had worked in Elliot’s bar and Wylan was eager to see Elliot’s face when he first would meet the ‘new version’ of his former barman.

Wylan felt his smile dismissing. His joy had a bitter taste in it.

Emotionally there were much changes. He rembered the day he introduced the pedestal to Chaddy. How extremely shocked he had been but then also how extremly aroused.

He thought about those two very intense contrasting feelings. In the beginning he just wanted to have a slave but now he really felt for his boy. FOR him or because of him?

Wylan tried to find out his feelings to put them into words. Chad was like a dog to him and every good man loved his dog. And he also was his favourite toy. This was so silly.

He had so many new sorrows and he remembered the time before Chad now. . .

In addition all those feelings were more than the sum of the single parts. If Wylan could have predicted all those things, would he make the same decision again?

Hhm, he would not sleep well with those feelings, Wylan thought and grabbed at the remote-control of his video-system. Maybe Chaddy was still watching TV. He switched on the screen but everything he saw was snow.

“Hhm . . . Something must be broken.” He said to himself and switched from the livingroom-camera to the kitchen-camera. There was snow again. Maybe the cable was damaged.

Shit! That would mean he had to call the cable-technician to repair it. He lacked facilities to do it himself. He stood up from his bed and went to the TV-system. Hopefully just a cable was loose. Hopefully!

He hated having foreigners in the house because he was afraid they would meet Chad—and what would be the worst that they could find out something about Chad’s strange constitution.

Wylan was not sure, if he had enough fantasy to explain to a cable guy, why he had a naked slave on a pedestal in the corner of his livingroom.

Wylan knealt down and looked behind the device. No, as it seemed, everything was perfect. It was obviously something different.

He went back to the bed, fetched the control and switched over to Chad’s room, which had another cable-connection. Hhm, there was no snow on the screen, but there also was no picture. The screen was black.

That was odd! Wylan decided to go downstairs to look if everything was correct. He left his room and, as he reached the stairs, he sniffed. There was a strange smell in the air.

He went down the stairs and looked around. It was silent around—very silent. There was no trace of Chad. He sniffed again. The smell came out of the kitchen. Wylan felt a bit strange.

What happened here? Wylan went to Chad’s chamber and slowly opened the door. As everywhere else around, it was silent and Chaddy wasn’t there. He was not in bed.

Wylan went back to the floor and again sniffed the smell of tainted food. It smealt mouldy out of the kitchen. He decided to go into the room and carefully opened the door which stood sligthly open.

As he entered the room he got a shock. The fridge was open and the contents were laying on the floor in a messy accumulation—vegetables, milk, pieces of the milk-bottles, meat and so on. It stank.

Wylan turned around and quickly left this room. What the hell did Chaddy do here? Still, he didn’t hear anything. It was so silent around. Did Chad have another breakdown? But if so—why hadn’t Wylan heard him?

Wylan thought about going upstairs again—locking his door behind him and waiting till the next morning. Going down then—with his small whip in his hand? Calling the police also was not the best option he had, Wylan thought wryly.

No—he had to look for Chad now. He had to prevent Chad from running away.

What a horror! His worst nightmare came true. If only he hadn’t reduced the drug. . .

Wylan waited—unsure what to do. Maybe Chad was in the livingroom. He slowly went towards the door.

He touched the door and eavesdropped. He heard something inside. It was like a whisper. At least the boy hadn’t escaped. So there would fortunately be no confrontation with the police.

Wylan didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, trying to be as as silent as possible. “Wylan. . .” Wylan heard Chaddy, now louder, calling him in a singing tone.

Wylan decided to enter the livingroom. He swallowed once and and with weak legs he did. Did he really never realise how much he was controlled by the whole situation?

Inside the livingroom it was dark. Only a few candles were pouring little but warm light around. The boy had enlighted some candles, Wylan thought. How strange.

“Chad?” Wylan said silently. He wanted to ask him what he’d done in the kitchen.

Chad laid on the sofa. He laid on his back and was naked. His legs were raised up, strongly lifted backwards and pulled back by his hands. His feet were placed next to his ears. He showed off his ass.

“Wylan . . .” Chad purred again and smiled lasciviously. “Surprise . . .”

Wylan didn’t know, what to do. He stared at the boy’s asshole, which pulsed slightly . . . Chad’s member laid on his belly. It twiched, as the boy strained the muscles in it. He was fully aroused, smiled at him and licked his lips shiningly.

Wylan relaxed. The explaination was simple. The boy was aroused—too aroused. It was obvoius that Chaddy could ignore his genitals till one point but then it would be too powerful for him. It was just too much for the boy and so he arranged his meeting.

Wylan smiled. Now, as his suspense went from him, he felt his weak legs even more. And he got hot.

Chaddy tilted his head to the left. He again purred that he waited for his ‘owner’. Wylan went towards the boy.

“Fuck me.” Chaddy said. “Fuck me hard”, he repeated, stupidly giggling and looking at him with his big Bambi-eyes. God, this boy was arousing!

If it was that, what he needed—Wylan would give it to him! Wylan pulled down his trousers and then went to the boy, whose ass was pulled towards him—so inviting.

Wylan’s cock was hard. He touched Chaddy’s rosebud with his glans. The boy was so tight. Wylan felt the pressure. Chaddy moaned loudly.

“Give it to me.” Chaddy said and Wylan thrusted his hips forward. His cock entered the boy.

“I am your slave” Chaddy said as he closed his eyes.

“Yes.” Wylan hissed in ecstasy as he fucked Chaddy—searching for relief. “You are my slaveboy . . .” Wylan said silently.

The boy was so tight. After all those times that Wylan had fucked him, the boy still was so tight . . .

Wylan fucked him slowly, inserting his penis in an intense rhythm. Yes, the boy was his slave. Chad had to be beautiful for him and he had to present his ass for him. Chad was his own whore.

No doubt about it. Wylan felt heat rising up his body as he entered Chad’s ass. He had won. Wylan smiled and closed his eyes. He had won and the boy was the looser. Chad’s own decisions—all reduced to the wish, to prepare himself for his master.

Yes, Chad was so hot, Wylan felt he reached the point of no return, giving himself over to orgasmic pleasure.

Suddenly he felt a strong pain in his face as something hard hit him.

“Forget the slaveboy!” Chaddy said.

Wylan humbled backwards, pulling out his penis from Chad’s ass. Wylan felt nothing but pain in the right half of his face. What happend? The boy had hit him! He could not believe it and suddenly thousends of thoughts were in his mind. He kicked him. He hit him directly in the face. Blood flew down his face, he also smelled blood in his mouth.

Wylan felt a kick in his belly.

“I’ll give you back what you gave to me, Wylan.” Chaddy purred.

Wylan fell back on the floor, cried out and touched his head. He tried to stand up again, but Chaddy made it impossible. He again kicked him, this time between his legs, hitting his nuts. Wylan cried and now opened his eyes. What he saw, was horrible.

Chad suddenly stood above him, smiling, holding a pan in both hands. Wylan quickly tried to crawl away but he was paralysed. He would kill him! Wylan thought nothing else but this. Chad was about to kill him!

It was so funny that he almost had to laugh. He had known this for longer. This was the logical end of all! And although it had been Wylan’s suspicion he was now surprised . . . Chaddy hit him and he was totally defenseless!

“Sleep tight, Wylan.” Chaddy shouted and again hit him with the pan on his face.

Chapter 12:

Wylan sat upright in his bed. Over and over he was covered with sweat. He grabbed at his chest, feeling his heartbeat. He swallowed. His throat was dry.

A dream. It had been just a dream. Wylan breathed heavily to calm down. It would take some moments to go along with the shock. He swallowed. It was not only a dream. Wylan knew it was a warning.

He buried his head in his palms. It was so realistic. Wylan looked around and his view got fixed on the remote-control. So realistic! He fetched it and switched on the screen. Exactly as he had done in the dream, he thought. Wylan breathed through.

Despite the warning in his dream, everything was alright. Still! There was a picture on the screen. Thank God. He saw Chad in his room—sleeping. What he saw was a lamb, not a killer.

A lamb? Really a lamb? His dream was an expression of his sorrows. How realistic or unrealistic his dream had been on the one and on the other hand—it was obvious that he had to do something.

Wylan stood up and looked at the clock. Midnight. He went downstairs. If the boy was going to kill him—he would have to take care of this . . .

Wylan stopped. What did he just think? Right now he was mixing up his dream with the reality! He was going downstairs in that very moment to avoid Chad to do something which was only in his own mind! He was paranoid!

Wylan laughed hysterically. This was schizophrenic! The longer it endured, the more Wylan got schizophrenic!

Okay! This was it! Enough of experiments with the drug. As long as Chad had his own will, there was the danger that the boy could realise his situation! It was time to follow Hutler’s orders.

Wylan went into the kitchen and fetched some bottles of milk.