The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jerry was a friend of my partner’s who used to come over to visit occasionally. He was a construction worker by trade, and I loved it on the occasions when he dropped by for coffee on his way to an evening shift.

Yes, he was gay. About five-ten, with short black hair and clear blue-grey eyes, Jerry was a just the sort of man I really go for. Unlike many of his co-workers, he had not developed a gut; he had powerful arms and legs, a hard, flat stomach and a hairy chest. He had just a touch of grey hair in his perfectly trimmed moustache, which I quite liked. My partner and I would have loved to fool around with him, but attempted flirtation in that direction was always deflected. I suppose neither of us was his type. He’d just come over and have a coffee with my partner and talk about mutual friends.

I was pretty much content just to have the time to look at the man. (When this story starts I wasn’t really sure Jerry had a hairy chest. He’d drop by wearing a black t-shirt with a red plaid flannel work-shirt over it, faded blue jeans and work-boots. I’d give him a little “hello” hug at the door and notice the little tufts of hair where the t-shirt met his neck. I would imagine, though.)

This particular week my partner was away skiing. I don’t ski myself, but he can’t get enough so he was off and I was home. I was cleaning up after our hallowe’en party when the doorbell rang. I looked out the window and saw Jerry’s pickup truck parked on the street. I hadn’t been quite expecting him, but was certainly happy to see him.

When I opened the door, Jerry laughed and said “What are those for?”

I looked down at my hands, where I was holding a pair of handcuffs, which I had been in the process of putting away. (I had dressed as a cop at the party, and everyone had been playing with the cuffs. I found them under the coffee table.)

“I’ve been waiting for you,” I lied good-naturedly, “I’m going to cuff you and have my way with you.”

He laughed again, and thrust out his hands. “Take me away, officer,” he camped.

What the hell, I thought, and clapped the cuffs onto him. Then I went to put on some coffee. Jerry tugged at the cuffs playfully, then sat at the kitchen table, watching me put the water on to boil. His cuffed hands were in his lap. I was actually finding this a bit of a turn on—a big, muscular man, cuffed in a chair in my kitchen.

Jerry asked where my partner was, and I explained the situation.

“Oh, no” he laughed, “I’m alone with you!”

I walked over to where he was sitting and straddled his legs, sitting in his lap, facing him. I was definately getting turned on, but knew I could only push so far. Jerry was easily strong enough to lift me right off of him, cuffed or not. In fact, I almost wished he would. But I just smiled and looked down at him, while he looked up at me with those pale grey-blue eyes. Then he smiled a killer smile.

“What are you going to do now, hypnotize me?” he asked, still smiling.

I blinked a few times, surprised. I actually am a proficient hypnotist; I almost went professional once before going into a more lucrative career. I wasn’t sure how or if Jerry knew that. Had it come up in conversation? Had my partner mentioned it to him?

Did I care? Nope. And those big eyes were beckoning.

“Look into my eyes, Jerry,” I started softly. “Just keep looking. Don’t turn away, don’t talk, don’t nod or respond to what I say. I know you can hear me. Just listen and watch.”

I don’t think Jerry had actually expected me to start, but he seemed willing to listen for now. His smile relaxed a little, just becoming bemused.

“As you listen to my voice, you will begin to become aware of other sounds, relaxing, ambient sounds in the room. You notice the weight of your body resting in the chair; how the soles of your feet press into your workboots. As you breathe in and out, and become more relaxed, you notice how each time you blink, your eyes relax, think of all the little muscles around your eyes, and how you can let them go...”

I continued with my patter, carefully making sure I was pacing his breathing, watching the tiny muscles of his face let go and relax, always responding to his involuntary responses. His head began to loll a little, and his eyes were only half-open. He half-raised his head again and opened his mouth a little and started to speak.

“God,” he mumbled, “you’re really making me...” His voice trailed off, and he blinked hard twice, barely getting his eyes open the second time.

I leaned close and pressed the palms of my hands down on his broad, muscular shoulders.

“Jerry, go to sleep now,” I said gently but firmly. His eyes fluttered closed and his head rolled forward onto his powerful chest.

I took a few long moments just to look at him, and slowly ran my hands down the side of his arms, feeling the biceps and triceps. I was really enjoying the moment. I started to speak to him again softly, deepening the trance.

“Jerry”, I said to him later, “I am going to wake you up soon, and take off the cuffs. But even after I do so, you will not be able to separate your wrists. They are bound together unbreakably. Only I can release them. In fact, I can bind or release any part of you just by saying so. Do you understand?”

I watched for the almost imperceptible nod.

I stood up and back then, and counted down from five, telling him to open his eyes at zero. Jerry’s head rolled up, and he blinked his eyes a few times as if they were sticky.

“How do you feel?” I asked him. He looked at me blankly for a moment, then smiled his killer smile.

“I thought for a minute there you were going to try to hypnotize me for real,” he said. “Actually, it was kind of relaxing. Why did you stop?”

I grinned. It’s not all that common to get spontaneous (unasked-for) amnesia the first time you hypnotize someone, and usually indicates a good depth of trance. I started to answer when the kettle began to whistle. I had been so involved with putting Jerry under that I’d forgotten about it.

“Let me take off those cuff,” I said, “so you can drink your coffee.” I unlocked and removed the cuffs, then went into the kitchen without looking back.

When I returned with two mugs of hot coffee, I found Jerry with a puzzled frown, staring at his wrists, which were pressed against each other. He was tugging with one arm, then with the other, but could not separate them. I set down the mugs and sat there watching the muscles of his arm bulge with the effort of pulling against himself. Finally he looked up at me.

“Did you glue my wrists together or something?” he asked. I sipped my coffee, then added some sugar.

“No”, I said, “In fact, your wrists aren’t stuck together at all.”

Jerry almost knocked over his coffee as his arms suddenly flew apart. He caught himself in time, then spent a moment rubbing his wrists cautiously.

“I don’t understand what just happened,” he said. “That was really weird.”

“Jerry”, I said, “Your feet are bound to the floor, and cannot be moved.”

“What do you mean, bound?” he asked. Then he realized, and looked at his feet in confusion. “Hey, I can’t move my feet.”

Jerry stood up and tried to pull away from his position but could not. He even reached down and tried tugging at one leg with both arms. I just smiled and kept sipping my coffee.

“You did hypnotize me. You must have,” he said. “Why don’t I remember it?” He kept working at his feet.

“Your hands are bound behind your back,” I replied. He looked up in surprise, and didn’t quite seem to notice where his hands went automatically. Then he realized, and started struggling more.

What a nice moment. A muscular construction worker in my kitchen, unable to move, hands behind his back. I put down my coffee, stood up, and walked up to him. He gave me a sour look, then grinned at me. Jerry knew damn well what effect his smile had on gay men—they would do just about anything for him.

“Alright,” he said, “It’s been fun, but I gotta be getting on to work. Let me go, okay?”

“You still have a little time,” I said. I started to undo the buttons of his flannel shirt, exposing the black t-shirt below. He started to twist left and right, so I couldn’t get a grip on the buttons.

“I’m not that easy,” he said, ducking out of the way.

“Jerry,” I replied with a smile, “Your whole body is bound. Every muscle, every limb is bound tightly and cannot move.” Jerry looked at me, mouth slightly open in surprise, and became very still. Eyes, arms, legs, were all locked into position. I put the palm of my hand against his face and ran it through his hair. No reaction. I reached out with the index fingers of both hands and ran them over his moustache, then over his lips. I was really turned on.

Then I finished unbuttoning his flannel shirt, and ran the palms of my hand over his t-shirt, feeling his hard pectorals and nipples. Definately a hairy chest—I could feel it through the thin cotton. Abs as hard as rock. I ran my hand lightly over his crotch, and thought I could feel a hardness there, but I wasn’t quite sure.

But Jerry was right. He did have to be getting on to work soon, and I wasn’t a jerk. So I just leaned forward and kissed his paralyzed lips, then stood back.

“Jerry, you are completely released,” I said. He lurched forward a little, then caught himself. Then he shook a finger at me, and started to do up his shirt.

“That was no fair,” he chided me. “Getting into my clothes that way.”

“Next time you’ll want to get naked for me,” I said, poking him teasingly with one finger.

“Next time we’ll have a more normal visit, I hope,” he said. He gulped down his coffee and left, giving me a little hug.

Part 2

Jerry didn’t stop by again until the next Saturday. My partner was still away skiing, not returning until the next day. I had honestly not been thinking much about him—the thought of Jerry asleep had filled a lot of my thoughts. I would love to hypnotize him again, but I wouldn’t do it without his permission. I almost ran to the door when I saw him pull up to the house.

“Jerry, c’mon in,” I called from the door. He bounced up the steps, making the house shake a little, and walked in. It was very cold out, and his breath was steaming. He gave me a quick hug, then shook his finger at me.

“I just want to tell you that we are NOT doing what we did last time I was here,” he said to me. “That was just too weird.” I was disappointed, but I tried not to show it. I looked at him for a long moment, trying to think of what to say next. He looked back at me, waiting.

Then, much to my surprise, Jerry, looking me eye-to-eye, suddenly seemed puzzled, then he opened his mouth as if to say something. He blinked heavily a few times, his eyes fluttered closed and his head lolled forward. He had put himself to sleep just staring into my eyes, and I didn’t have to help out at all! Perhaps he consciously didn’t want to be hypnotized, but his sub-conscious had spoken.

“Jerry,” I said, remembering our earlier conversation, “When I wake you up this time, you will respond when I hold up one finger. When I do that, you will have an irresistable urge to remove a single piece of clothing. It won’t seem odd or unusual to do so. Do you understand?”

A nod.

“When you are completely naked, you will want to give me a massage. Long, and slow. And the more you massage me, the more turned on you will get. Do you understand?”

A nod.

“That’s very good, Jerry. It will be as if our nervous systems are connected. Whatever pleasure I feel, you will feel twice over. Anything you do to stimulate me will stimuate you more. Do you understand?”

A nod.

“And whenever I ask you to look into my eyes, you will go deeply asleep. Now WAKE UP.” Jerry looked up, blinking, suddenly surprised. “Okay,” I continued. “We’ll do something different today.” I held up one finger, and Jerry casually pushed off one of his workboots. I signalled again, and he removed the other, then followed me upstairs.

I made the usual coffee, and by the time we were finished drinking it, he was sitting at the kitchen table wearing just a pair of jeans. His shirt, t-shirt and socks were sitting neatly on another chair.

“Are you warm enough?” I asked him.

“Oh sure. No problem.” he replied.

My house isn’t really all that warm in this kind of cold weather, and I was watching his perfect nipples become erect. I wanted desperately to run my hands through his furry chest hair. And his arms! God, I wanted to feel his biceps. But I had patience. I raised a finger.

“Actually,” Jerry continued. “It’s a little hot in here. Listen, do you mind if I take off my pants?”

“No problem,” I replied genially. Jerry pulled his belt open with a single motion, dropped the jeans and stepped out of them. He was wearing boxers underneath them, and I could see his good-sized dick, half-hard, flopping back and forth inside. My heart racing, I raised my finger once more.

Jerry frowned, then looked at me. “I shouldn’t...” he started.

“Shouldn’t what?” I asked disingenously. One of his hands was tugging abstractedly at the elastic of his boxers. Then all at once he thrust them off.

That moment is seared in my memory. The physical perfection of the man almost hurt to look at. Jerry, hard muscle and chiselled features, was standing there, holding a pair of boxer shorts in his hand, looking puzzled. Then suddenly he looked at me.

“I can’t be the only one naked around here,” he said, grinning that wonderful grin. He came over to me and started to pull at my sweatshirt.

“C’mon,” he said. “Get some of those clothes off. I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a massage.” He pulled off my sweatshirt over my little protesting noises. Then he reached over, picked me right up off the ground and carried me into the next room, where I leave my massage table set up. He dumped me onto it like a sack of potatoes, then started to undo my belt.

At this point I surrendered unconditionally, letting him pull off my clothing, piece by piece. Then, ever so firmly but gently, he rolled me onto my front and began to work on the muscles in my back and neck. He took his time, working down the back side of my body for almost half an hour, then slowly turning me over and working up the other side. I was in heaven. His strong arms and fingers worked every stress out of my body. I could smell his sweat as he moved around me, humming as he worked. Even with my eyes closed, I was aware of the heat of his cock, which was now hard, as it moved around me. I was surprised when he bypassed my crotch altogether, but I wasn’t going to complain about anything.

After massaging my face, he finally turned his attention to my crotch. And then, oh boy, did I feel what he could do with those lips and that perfect little moustache. And he was clearly turned on as well, from the little moaning noises he was making. Finally, unable to help himself, he picked me up off the table and carried me into the bedroom. Then he dropped me onto the bed, and climbed on top of me, grinning that grin.

“I don’t know we didn’t do this years ago,” he said. “This has been the best, just the best experience I’ve had.” “Look into my eyes,” I said. “And sleep.” Jerry looked at me, then his eyes closed and his whole weight settled on top of me. I wrapped myself around him, and just held this big man, telling him what he would do for me next. I will let you imagine the rest of the evening; what you would do in my place.

I don’t see Jerry anymore. A few weeks later he met someone, and they became involved in a monogamous relationship (ugh!) and moved away. I was always a bit unclear about how much Jerry remembered of that second visit. Talking with him later, it all seemed to be a bit blurry to him. Nevertheless, it was a day I will never forget.