The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Richard Reardin is fabulously wealthy. “Self-made,” he built his wealth and reputation on a record of strict adherence to the most modern business control techniques. He road the nanotech boom of the 2010’s to a large fortune. Growing bored of the boardroom and the stock exchange, still trim and fit at forty-seven, he decided to devote his talents and wealth to pleasure. The greatest pleasure he could conceive was ultimate control over the best examples of studly, young manhood. Thus was the idea of the Stud Stable conceived.

1.

He started by secretly purchasing an old estate adjacent to his justly famed country home. The home to which he had retired was the finest type of modern establishment, in the high tech style of the opening 21st Century. It was quite a contrast to the old next-door property he bought. That property was known as The Oaks, from the ancient trees that created a deep, dark forest around the Tutor style buildings. It had not been used in a couple decades and had only been haphazardly modernized in the last century. It still retained many of its 19th Century features and Reardin decided to capitalize on these, using natural gas for lighting and hiding the electrical and high tech components so the place would feel like a pre-industrial manor. Nonetheless, one person could, with secret automated systems and catered supplies, happily live there alone.

But that was all window dressing for his main purpose: to create a place of pleasure for himself and a few of his understanding friends. While inspecting the sturdy old barn, he began to conceive of the full enormity of his intent.

What he really wanted was a stable full of mind-controlled studs, trained to please him in every way. Yes, he thought, hypnosis and strict discipline with total control will develop the most extraordinary specimens.

2.

After the estate was fully refurbished and functioning smoothly he began the process of filling his stables. Though requiring great focus, effort and will, this part was something to which he knew he could devote himself fully.

He decided to start with a couple stable boys to assist him. They would need to be mind controlled first.

After certain discrete inquiries and careful political donations, Reardin found himself the foster parent to two teen boys who had been orphaned a couple years earlier when their redneck parents managed to kill each other, in a drunken brawl at the family house trailer parked somewhere in the hills. While the boys were under-educated trailer trash, they did harken back to an earlier, less degenerate, genetic inheritance. The boys were identical twins, green eyed and red headed; good looking boys, but scrawny and wild—just about to turn 18 and full of back-woods bravado. James William (“Jimmy Will”) was the oldest by a couple minutes so he was looking forward to “being a man” before his “little brother” William Robert (or Billy Bob). They had repeatedly gotten into trouble at the orphanage and were happy to be out of the confines of that place.

When they met Mr. Reardin and learned they were going to a big house in a county where everyone knew “rich folk” lived, they were excited. They remained excited when Reardin, during the ride from the orphanage, told them they’d be earning their keep dong some gardening and taking care of his stables. The idea of working in the stables, with horses and all, sounded good to them. They did not really understand when Reardin explained he had paid their debts to the orphanage and they had been apprenticed to him for seven years. So he told them it meant they would have secure jobs but had to do exactly as he told them, since he was the Boss.

3.

The twins learned quickly, and with lots of food and exercise, began to put on some real muscle. When Mr. Reardin’s horses arrived, they’d be ready to handle them, he explained. But, first they had to learn how to focus. Since the Boss was nice to them; firm, but genuinely interested in them, unlike their deceased parents and the people at the orphanage, they wanted to please him. And he let them use the newest and fanciest computer games. So they let him “train your focus” by using certain DVDs and with those new Virtual Reality, or VR, helmets. Besides, their parents could never have afforded to let them play VR games they way the Boss allowed. They were reassured to learn that one of his companies had made the system.

Both boys felt confused and disoriented after the first special focus session, so unlike just playing games on the equipment. Mr. Reardin, in his quiet, authoritative voice, gently explained to them such was an expected side effect and would go away as they used the equipment more. He was right about that, as he was with everything he told them. So they began to fall into a new routine, without ever realizing how completely their minds were being controlled.

For several weeks, each day was pretty much the same as the last: the Boss would wake them up each morning, early. They’d do stretches and calisthenics with him. He’d have his gym gear on – jock, warm-up suit and expensive sneakers; they’d dress in the jocks, gray shorts and tank tops, and work boots, he always had them wear. Then they’d join him for breakfast – he always fed them well. After, they’d be put to work in the gardens, or would help Reardin bring more gear to the stables, to get ready for the horses that still had not arrived. Later in the day they would strip off their sweaty work clothes to clean up the house, wearing just their boots and jocks. The Boss would even help them scrub the mansion’s hardwood or marble flooring, vacuum rugs, or clean some of the many, many window panes. Reardin was particularly satisfied that their mind control had progressed to the point that they didn’t think it odd to be working around the mansion nearly naked. Then the Boss would tell them they had worked hard and it was time to let go. An arm around each of their trim waists, he’d lead them to his suite and they’d shower together. This also no longer seemed strange to them and they appreciated the attention and liked it when the Boss would lather them up, tickling and joking with them. After showering, the twins would put on clean jocks while the Boss donned flannel plaid boxer shorts to wear around the mansion.

Then it was time for dinner. Rearden had a walk in freezer of prepared food that he could quickly heat and serve. They’d eat in the kitchen with the Boss sitting at the counter while the twins stood on either side of him. He’d have them stand there with their hands clasped behind their backs while he would feed them from his fork, making sure each got his share. While Mr. Rearden always had wine with his evening meal, he’d have a big squeeze bottle of water that he’d have them suck water from as they were fed. The twins, in their mind controlled state, did not think any of this odd either.

After dinner, the Boss would lead them into the reckroom where there were more video games and a huge video screen. Sometimes he’d have the twins sitting on the floor, against the couch he sat on, with wireless game controllers and headsets, so they could play while he read. Other times, he’d pull them on to the couch, on either side of him, where he’d read to them a while. They’d relax there, usually watching a manly adventure cinema he would choose. Often they’d end up joking around—the stable lads didn’t seem to notice when the Boss, or either of them, got a hardon.

Reardin was so gentle, but firm, and their mind control so far advanced, that they didn’t consider it strange how they were kept bareass when in the manor house. And they really came to like it at night when they’d be relaxing with the Boss on the big couch, watching some old movie about heroic soldiers or other manly men, or the Boss’s favorite wrestling matches, and they’d all end up wrestling and tickling together, and the Boss would have them doing various feats of strength or control under his instructions—practicing wrestling moves, hand stands, different stretches; or just maintaining twisted, yoga-like positions. It just felt natural for Reardin’s hands to be on them, for him to push them where he wanted, into what positions he wanted, and they learned never to resist his control. The Boss was bigger than the lads and it felt good when he’d grab one or the other in a bear hug and they’d all be pressed together on that couch.

Then they’d be hustled off to an early bedtime.

At night they slept on two narrow wheeled bunks in a small room they shared by the stables. Neither could quite remember when the Boss had started to strap them down to their bunks at night, telling them to hold their arms next to their sides while he closed a big belt about their waists, latched around the side of the bunk where neither could reach the buckle. He told them it would help them feel secure and controlled. They slept naked without covers. It was odd, too, the way they would fall asleep immediately after being latched down, when he would say a few words to them, words they could never quite remember (not that they spoke to each other about it; they found themselves speaking less and less as they used the VR helmets regularly).

They also did not remember what he would do next with them each night. But Reardin remembered and considered this the best part of his day, when he would contemplate how it would be when his stables were full. Kneeling in the narrow space between the two bunks, he would fondle the lads, stroking them to hardness, and nuzzling against one or the other; stroke and suck until each would orgasm deep in his mouth. He loved the sweet, fresh taste of the two youths and their clean smell. He loved to masturbate with that taste and those smells permeating the small room. Then he’d pull the two beds together, grab the blanket he kept on a shelf, strip and climb on top of the lads, where he’d sleep until it was time to roust them the next morning.

4.

All the while he was making arrangements for his steeds. He needed to proceed carefully. He knew he had several ways he could fill the stables. Various prison agencies, with the huge increase in inmate population, had begun to rent prisoners as contract labor. Long-term prisoners could be leased long-term; life inmates could be leased for life.

Reardin thought he would start with a couple preconditioned life inmates. But he also knew some people who knew some people connected to a certain underworld organization. There were always young toughs getting in trouble with the mob. Some enterprising Capo, rather than killing the miscreants, would offer them for sale as sex slaves. Such steeds might be harder to control at first, but Reardin thought he would enjoy the challenge. And finally, later, he felt, when he was ready, he might aim to capture a couple of potential steeds, in the wild, as it were. Wild bronco busting would be interesting too.

So he started with two lifers from the State Pen. He was careful to pick men who had no outside relations, no one who would pay attention to how he trained them. Once he prepaid the present value of the expected lifetime lease cost, the prison corporation had no further interest in the inmates either. They would be completely his to use as he chose.

He picked inmates that met his primary needs: young, strong studs who could take the hard training he intended. Their names were not important, since he would give them steed names as they were trained. One was a big Hispanic stud, thick dark hair, brown eyes, about 6 foot and well muscled. The other was a bigger black stud; ebony skin, big, thick muscled frame. Though he had only seen photos, he was fairly certain they would be endowed with manhood to match their muscle. He referred to the first as “Brawny” and the other as “Blacky.”

They arrived in a prison van. Reardin met the van to take possession. The two prisoners were led out in their orange prison jump suits, wrists cuffed together behind their backs and to a waist chain. From the front of that chain, another chain hung down to connect to ankle cuffs that were held together by a short chain. Each prisoner was, as he had requested, also in isolation gear: blindfolds and earplugs. Reardin was surprised at the big size of his new steeds; larger than he expected. The ebony inmate was especially brawny; a stallion indeed!

Reardin signed off for the merchandise and the van left. He started by attaching a choke chain around each of their necks. Although the inmates could not see or hear, they were aware of being collared and one of them began to complain. Reardin tugged on the chains and at the same time took a taser from his pocket, made sure it was set at the lowest power, and jolted each. He was pleased to see them get very quiet and still. They let him lead them around the manor and back to the stables.

He had instructed his stable hands to wait for him there. The twins looked genuinely confused when he led the two jump suited prisoners in by their neck chains. He immediately used the appropriate trigger word and the two went into a deep trance, their eyes glazing over as the stood silently, waiting their Boss’s orders.

“Now boys, here to see before you the first two of our stallions. These are fine steeds. Probably a bit headstrong, but with firm control they’ll make superb studs in my stable. You’ll find handling human steeds even better than taking care of equine steeds. And you assimilate my instructions, seeing these new steeds as a type of horse for you to handle under my instructions. And so it is.” The twins responded as they had been conditioned, “Yes Boss, so it is.”

Had the twins realized it, they would have seen, before Reardin’s new steeds had arrived, that the stables had been redesigned for a different type of stallion. While there were individual stalls, constructed of fine, polished woodwork, the individual stalls were not set up with straw, but rather had a matted bench built along the back end of each. The bench was set with Velcro wrist and ankle binding and with the same type of security strap as the twin’s bunks. Across the center of each stall there was a cross bar, let down from the ceiling on cables that could raise and lower it. There were two hooks on each cross bar, set to receive wrist cuffs, and matching hooks on the flooring for ankle cuffs. Even the big shower stall was set with a similar control set up, above the open drain hole.

Reardin took each steed into a separate stall and looped the choke chain over the convenient cross bar. He told the stable boys to fetch the VR helmets. While they were doing that, Reardin removed the earplugs, but not the blindfolds. He spoke in a firm voice, slowly. “My name is Boss. I’ve purchased your sentences from the prison corporation. You belong to me now.” Both inmates started to complain, but Reardin cut them off with quick tazer jolts and, “Silence! You may not speak. I am about to remove your blindfolds and put special training helmets on you. They will teach you how to behave.”

The stable boys arrived with the VR helmets. With their help he removed the blindfolds and quickly put on the helmets. “Pay attention to the sound of my voice, and to the lights. Soon you will understand how lucky you are to have been taken here to become stud steeds in my stables. Pay close attention to the sound of my voice that you should be hearing just about now...” During that first session, Reardin injected each of them with a powerful hypnotic and also with microchips that would allow him to both locate them if they ever wandered and broadcast mind control suggestions to them. Very soon the sound of his voice would become the only thoughts in their heads.

Several hours later, with the help of his stable boys, he took the two now zonked and mind controlled steeds, removed their control gear and jump suits (noticing their impressive equipment) and strapped them onto their benches for many hours more brain washing.

When it was done, the two former inmates were now stud steeds. They understood that as steeds they could not speak, since steeds do not know how to speak, and that they depended completely on their handlers to take care of all their bodily needs; feeding them, cleaning them, exercising them. They were to remain passively standing, arms clasped behind their backs, unless told to perform some stud steed behavior. Then they would have to do exactly as they were told. They understood their handlers would have to be strict with them, use switches and tasers on them, and otherwise control them completely. In addition to the waist chain, black leather wrist and ankle cuffs, each steed was fitted with a bit and a special horse tail butt plug. This final intrusion was initially resisted, but judicious switch use led them to accept these control devices. Once equipped, Reardin personally clamped shinny chrome rings around the base of their cocks and balls.

Geared like this, they looked the part of well-trained stallions, naked and obedient. Trained to stand at brace, pumped muscles bulging, unmoving, eyes staring straight ahead, sometimes Reardin would just have them stand hypnotically still, in various poses, in the stables or in the manor house, so he could look up from whatever he was doing and just gaze at them.

Reardin was quite happy to determine that he could take one of those small tripod folding seats that people sometimes bring to horse races, sit himself before one of his naked steeds and suck on stiff stallion erections as often as he wanted, drawing out thick streams of creamy cum from each, as the steed hunk passively stood at brace, bare except for his control gear, cock ring and big black boots.

5.

After a few weeks had passed, the steeds, Blacky and Brawny, were becoming very well trained indeed, Reardin thought. Even when he wasn’t there to oversee his stable boys, he could use the hidden cams in the stable to check on progress from wherever he might be. And his voice was always being broadcast into the steeds heads, hypnotically repeating their conditioning. The stable boys, with just a few hypnosis sessions, had taken to their new charges quite nicely. Everything was getting down to routine, so it was just about time to train the steeds and stable hands for more pleasure.

That daily routine was carefully structured to reinforce the steeds’ mind control. At dawn each morning, in the bed the three now shared at one end of the stable, the Boss would roust his stable boys—taking time to tickle them, fondle and suck on them until they each came, before releasing them; he no longer needed any pretense to enjoy the twins’ young cocks. After some calisthenics and a quick breakfast, the three would go back to the stables and roust the steeds. The stud steeds would have been strapped to their benches all night with their VR control helmets. Their daytime control gear would be put in place before the straps would be released. A sturdy chain was always kept locked about their heavily muscled, but trim waists. So they went from being belted in place to being cuffed to their waist chains. Of course, choke chains were put around their necks. They were led to the shower stall where they would first have their butt plugs temporarily removed, made to squat to relieve themselves, then stand while the stable boys and the Boss hosed them down, lathered them up and scrubbed them with big steed brushes.

The Boss personally used a straight razor on them, keeping them mostly hairless, except for a little tuft of pubic hair over their manly members and a buzzed “Mohawk” strip of hair across their heads and down the backs of their necks, looking very much like the steeds they had become. After that, they’d be led to a trough where their special high fiber, vitamin and amino enriched gruel had been mixed. There they would squat and feed, heads down in the through, horse tail butt plugs twitching. Finally the steed hunks were led to their boots, which were kept by the entrance to the stables. Each steed had a pair of heavy black DocMartin boots and although they were kept naked except for their control gear, they always were booted before being let out from the stables for exercise.

Reardin insisted that the steeds be well exercised for several hours every day. The exercise equipment was kept in a shaded, open area behind the barn, just next to the special track he had built for his steeds. There he had the latest high tech equipment, such as stairmasters, running treadmills, weight stations and the like. The stable hands would move the steeds from station to station where they would be Velcro-strapped to the equipment and goaded to work out hard with the switches each lad carried. Reardin and the twins would also use the equipment to exercise, which he considered a good bonding experience for his mind controlled stable hands and steeds.

In the middle of the equipment were a couple gym mats, also fixed with bolted hooks to which the stud steeds could be bound, spread-eagle, on their backs. Exercise sessions were always followed by required rest sessions where the bound steeds would be pleasured by the stable hands and Reardin. This was Reardin’s favorite type of exercise. After triggering their lust with mind-control hypnotic suggestions and stimulating the steed hunks’ horse cocks by hand and mouth, and covering them with lubricated condoms, he would have his stable lads pull aside their shorts, squat over each steed and he’d carefully mount the lad on the erection. Watching the twins ride the steeds always excited Reardin and he had to get his mouth and hands into the fray, sucking the lads’ cocks, licking the steeds’ big, engorged balls. Signaling one of the lads to dismount, he would impale himself on the enormous pleasure pole of one or the other steed, losing himself in the joy of the moment.

After, the spent stud steeds would be left strapped in place and told to sleep; Reardin and the twins would take a lunch break. When the steeds were well-rested, they’d be fed again and afternoon training sessions would begin. Behind the barn and running through the deep woods in a long mile loop Reardin had a cinder track installed. He loved the sound his steeds’ big boots made on the cinders.

He had several special steed carts made to fit his stallions, to which they could be bound. The carts were provided with mountain bike wheels and a bike seat suspended between them. Two poly poles led to the steed, where its wrists would be bound. The rider’s legs would extend along the poles to ankle loops and rest against the stud steed’s hips. While using the carts, he had the stable hands wear what he called “training belts” – thick leather belts that had been carefully beveled so as not to cut or easily bruise when used on the steeds.

The stable hands would run the steeds around the track, cracking their bare buttocks with their switches, goading them to race against each other with promises of treats and threats of beltings. The twins had a great time exercising the steeds in this manner.

So they trained the steed hunks to run the carts with different, controlled steps: walking, cantering, jogging, running full out. The switches were used to direct the steeds in their various fancy footwork forms. For example, two quick cracks on the top of one butt cheek would signal cantering, while cracking across a different part of the other cheek would order running. If any mistakes were made the Boss had instructed the stable hands to stop the exercise, take off the training belt and use it on the steed a half dozen times or more. Then training would resume. The switches were used to signal and drive the steeds; the belts were used to discipline them.

The Boss also had two garden carts fitted with restraints for binding the steeds to them, so they could help move loads when needed by the twins in their gardening duties. He really enjoyed looking out of a manor window and noticing one of the steeds patiently waiting strapped to a work cart while a nearby lad was weeding or spreading manure.

There was finally one larger cart to which both stud steeds could be latched next to each other and onto a cross pole. The two steeds were close together, their flanks nearly rubbing. His legs would be spread apart, along the poles, pressing against the outer hip of each. This cart, though a bit wider than the single stallion model, was shorter, and when he rode naked (except for jock, training belt and sneakers), as he often did, he was so close to his steeds that his erection would bounce against their buttocks and he could reach and stroke their backs and muscled thighs, or, of course, crack their ass cheeks with the switch he also carried.

Reardin would take them on runs to the back of the track loop where a long trail led off into the woods. He greatly enjoyed having his steeds jog into the woods with him riding behind, his legs rubbing against their strong flanks. He’d crack his switch on their muscled behinds and watch their butt plug horsetails twitch.

There was a lake at the far end of the property where he had a small, rustic, airy pavilion. It was also fitted out with a big gym mat and bolts, so, after running his steed hunks in the woods and watering them in the lake, he could rest with his bound stallions, continuing to enjoy their pumped, muscled bodies, stretched out as an offering for his pleasure.

After using the mind control trigger language that would assure the stiffening of their stallion cocks, Reardin would fall onto their constrained bodies with hands and mouth, filling himself with their manly scents and luxuriating in the warmth of their run-pumped bodies. Then settling one of his legs between each of their bound legs, he alternately sucked and stroked each rigid erection, taking his time to coax thick streams of mancream from their thrusting, shuddering bodies.

“Soon,” he thought, as he lay there, entwined in the muscles and aromas of his spent stud steeds, listening to the quieting of their breathing and the soft sounds of the woods, “it will be time to add more stallions to the stable.” And time, he mused, to introduce some of his more discerning friends to the pleasures of his steed studs and stable hands.