The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It’s just not Fair” Mark whined into his beer, “They’re Assholes!”

“Yes, Yes they are,” I replied in that knee jerk comforting manner.

“It’s Ok Mark you can stay with me till you find a place,” Stacey said as she gave him a big hug, it was all so sweet I could have just thrown up right there. It was a Kodak moment.

Poor mark had been evicted from his house by his roommates, Boo hoo. Poor Mark was always getting stepped on in life. He was one of those door mat people who should just have “Welcome” stenciled on his forehead. He gave self-respecting queers like myself a bad name. However he was one of my oldest friends and deep down in places I don’t like to acknowledge I do have a little bit of a broken wing syndrome. So I wanted to help him. Mark was a nice enough little dude, a bit unassuming but hey he’s cute in that puppy dog kinda way, it’s just after awhile you wanna take the puppy put it in a sack and go to down to the river. He’s a nice guy, in world where the nice guy is a dying breed.

Mark had been living off campus with four guys. We’re all still in college. They had all rented this house together and things were fine, until Mark brought home a Bob instead of a Becky. Marks very understanding roommates gave him his walking papers almost immediately, they did take some time out though to threaten and scare him first. Hell, why not?

I never had the misfortune of meeting the guys he lived with but I’m sure I’d really not like them.

“They were all my friends, but when they found out I was gay... They all went crazy. Gino through me against the wall and Brian was ready to kick my ass.”

I was jolted back into the conversation, “So they kicked you out? I guess that means they’ll be looking for a new roommate?”

Both Stacey and Mark stared at me in horror. “I’m not looking for a better deal on the rent.” I narrowed my eyes “It just think someone ought to teach your buddies a well deserved lesson.”

Stacey eyed me worriedly, “What are you gonna do Damien.”

“What good is being a major in ancient religious philosophy with a focus on the occult, if you can’t put it in to practical use?” I answered with a dark smile.

Mark laughed for the first time that night, “What are ya gonna do, put a curse on them?”

I put my long black coat on and left the table, and heard Stacey call after me, “Or turn em into frogs”

I opened the door to the bar and turned around and met her eyes, “not... frogs...”

The house was a quaint little 2-floor building with tacky blue aluminum siding. I was just lighting my cigarette when someone answered my many knocks and opened the door. Now I’m not sure what all-American means but I am sure that the guy who stood on the other side of the door was as close as I’d ever come to the living embodiment of the definition. He was prime mid-western, home grown, corn fed, BEEF. He was tall about 2 inches bigger then me, and I’m 6′1. He was blonde with a face that against my will made my heart pump fast. He was the kind of guy who had just enough pretty and just enough gruff. He was handsome. And he was wearing a football jersey that did little to contain his strong beefy build. He was every quarterback fantasy I ever had, stuffed into a pair of tight shorts. His suntanned arms were covered with sun bleached hair all the way to his big bicep. His thick trunk like thighs were only covered by short sweat shorts. And I somehow managed to take I all this in with a studied uninterestedness.

“What?” was his only greeting.

“Heard ya needed a roommate.”

He moved forward, and it was hot to even watch him walk, “How’d ya know that?” he asked roughly.

“Heard it somewhere...” I moved forward and tipped my sunglasses to look him in the eye.

He gave that typical look of confusion and then just shrugged it away, “Yeah we do, the rent is 300 a month.”

I moved in the next day.

I learned later that the blonde man’s name was Brian and that he was indeed on the football team. He had a workout room in the basement and an obsession with anything in a bikini, a two piece of course. He had the irritatingly self-important cocky attitude that can only be developed by years of pampering as a college Jock star. He was kind of quiet but I think that was because he didn’t see me as some one worthy of his time. It was that night that I met all my new “roommies.” They all came into my room, which formerly belonged to Mark. First came Gino, the walking, talking Italian Stereotype. He was a mechanic. He was so Italian he made momma Celeste look like a fraud. He was deeply olive skinned and had those sensuous big Italian lips that just need to be kissed. The man was gorgeous. He was a body himself, all pumped up, but not with the purposeful athletic muscle that Brian trained for. Gino had big well-sculpted gym muscle. He oozed sexuality. Gino also after closer examination was a complete and total Masochist, how refreshing. He talked about women and sex in the most entertainingly vulgar ways. Apparently by Gino’s reasoning the girls he dated were just, quote “Stupid bitches that took care of his cock,” charming huh? He had pin up calendar sultry good looks, and dressed in baggy jeans and polo shirts. He didn’t flaunt his body, he didn’t have to. He did however wear a lot of gold jewelry. On a good day the man looked like he had fort knocks hanging around his neck.

Last but certainly not least was Eric the upperward mobile little executive in training, he was so prissy that at first I was convinced that he was in a very big closet. But like the other two he was very straight. He did have rather irritating habits and was altogether to impressed with himself. I caught him condescendingly talking to me once or twice. He had cookie cutter good looks and was well groomed, little corporate haircut, tailored suits and an athletic-not to bulky-but still in shape build. He was the Man. He was the kind of yuppie that made Donald trump look like trailer trash, and couldn’t give anyone below a six-figure tax bracket the time of day. I began with Gino of course since he was the cutest. He would enter and leave the house at all hours of the day and night, wearing his big Tommy jeans, and Nautica shirts. He came in and out with a different girl each time. I would always get calls for him, girls wanting to know where he was, or when he was going to call them, it got to the point where I didn’t even pick up the phone half the time. When I asked him if he was ever going to call one of them back he would just laugh, like I was making a joke or something. My “experiment” with Gino began one night when he had come back early from some club.

The front door slammed and Gino strolled in all pissed off. His dark hair was matted under his ball cap, and he looked messy like he was rolling around. He wore a big parka but had it hung open wide so as to let the wife-beater T-shirt that hugged his muscled torso be exposed. His big somewhat hairy pec’s were tightly encased in the thin white cotton and his gold name chain, glittered against his sweaty olive skin. I squinted at his bulging chest and could just make out the imprint of his very big round nipples, and began to get hard. I looked at his big baggy jeans and absently wandered what kind of legs he had. Probably big muscled thighs covered with dark leg hair, and even those wide jeans couldn’t hide his obvious spectacular bubble but. The band of his boxers peaked ostentatiously over his belt and I thought how sad it was that he wore those and not something more.erotic. I thought about how big his cock was and what it would be like to suck on that big Italian meat, listen to his big masculine voice beg for more, beg to be fucked. The baggy boxers and baggy jeans however awkwardly called attention to the massive erection that was making a circus tent on his crouch.

“Fucking bitch,” he said punching the wall and subsequently waking me up from my thoughts.

“Problem?” I asked groggily.

“I’m straight up tired these triflin little girls playin it like they don’t know what’s going on!” He explained rather loudly, his, somewhat long black hair falling into his eyes.

“Huh?” I asked genuinely confused.

“I took this bitch out right, and then when it’s time to go back to my place she gives me some story about how she got an early class or something...” His deep brown eye’s glowed with frustration, “She thought she was betta then me anyway, talkin about college, Like I’m some fucking idiot just cause I fix cars.”

“She called you stupid?” I asked.

“No she didn’t have to, man she knew how to make me feel stupid!” his thick black eyebrows scowled, and his big hand clenched and unclenched into a fist dissected with big veins. “Stupid cunt. What the hell did she think was happenin, she just ran out leavin me with a mad twisted case of blue balls,” he said squeezing his balls through the heavy folds of fabric. " It’s a damn joke girls actin all sexed up and then leavin ya hard. Bitch is lucky I didn’t cold cock her like she deserved. I ain’t playin around with any little girls no more.” Then he stormed off into his room.

So Gino was having girl trouble, well I could fix that, permanently.

I went back into my room and got out my “tool box”. I lit some candles, drew a circle and raised some hell. That night I stayed up late into the evening doing some “extra curricular” work for my occult studies class’s I wont say what exactly was involved, Lets just say that a few chickens had to be sacrificed for the greater good, and in the morning I was positive that Gino would have a whole new outlook on the world. He definitely wouldn’t be “playing” with any kid of girls anymore.