The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A City somewhere in the world

James lounged naked in front of the wall of monitors that allowed him to watch those whose reality he had altered. He was bored. Being able to redesign the universe was cool, but after a while knowing exactly what was happening next took the edge off it all.

“Voice Command, program in a random event, something that will tax my abilities...and get me the best fuck of my life so far. Also make me forget giving this command...activate.”

The monitors browned out for a moment, indicating that whatever the “Maker” Programme had done it had required an unprecedented amount of power.

Throughout the world maps of New York wobbled slightly as Central Park became smaller to accommodate the newly inserted suburb.

Agency Headquarters..

Agent Muldoon sat patiently as the director read the file.

Finally Director Skimmer looked up over his glasses. “I think that you are wasting agency time agent Muldoon. I admit it’s an odd event, but I see no crime. No crime, No case.”

Muldoon hissed in exasperation. “With respect sir, I think you are dead wrong. An airplane appears on radar over JFK, the air traffic control monitor tapes record a passenger telling the air traffic controller that his plane will be landing immediately. The ATC then clears a runway leapfrogging a stack of 43 scheduled flights.”

“I know, I’ve just read it.”

“The ATC denies doing such a thing despite having heard the recording. Then we have customs and Immigration. Thirty young men aged between 15 and 22 are recorded walking straight through the checkpoint stopping only to suck off a pair of the customs officers, again the Officers don’t remember a thing, despite still being ..um.. exposed....when questioned. That’s illegal immigration and public indecency.”

“Hardly an agency matter agent Muldoon, the NYPD, are quite proficient.” replied Skimmer trying unsuccessfully not to smirk

“The skate police? Sir, with respect, that’s not funny. I...”

The harsh bleat of the telephone interrupted, cutting off Muldoon’s thoughts on the NYPD and their recent inexplicable decision to form an exclusively gay, skateboard riding, patrol squad for the central park precinct.

“Skimmer.” Said the director picking up the phone

“Agent Solly, Sir” replied the feminine voice of Muldoon’s partner. “You should be aware that I have just called in the CDC, regarding the airport case.”

Suddenly alert the Director re-opened the file in front of him. “Agent Muldoon is with me now, please explain.”

“I located the pilot of the mystery plane, one David Cadwaladough. He was in a gay sauna club near to the airport. We will need to trace the people that were there by the way. I arrested Capt Cadwaladough for failing to file a flight plan and brought him back to headquarters for questioning. He seemed a little out of it so I took a blood sample to check for drugs, particularly hypnogenics.

Director...he is infected with a gene altering retro-virus, I believe it’s engineered and highly contagious.” explained Solly.

Director Skimmer’s eyes narrowed. “Muldoon your airport case just became an agency matter, Solly will bring you up to speed....go”

Waiting until the smug looking agent had gone the Director picked up the phone.

“This is #744 inform The Master that Troy Masterson has been detected entering New York City, several other escaped slaves were also present. Also I respectfully request information and guidance on the Master’s genetic splice experiments. I have evidence that Troy Masterson has used this technology.

Agent Solly smiled at the pilot, as usual she would be playing good cop to Muldoon’s bad.

“David, there is no easy way to say this. You have been infected with a virus, an artificial virus. If we are to help you we have to know everything about your flight here.”

Capt Cadwaladough frowned, his brow trickling with sweat, in part because of the gene altering substance and mostly due to the subliminal commands left by his new Master. The conflicting needs of his genetically re-wired brain and hypnotically enslaved mind leaving him in turmoil.

A mental nudge from Master Troy reassured him, Troy was in his mind and would guide his answers.

“I was at Bristol International Airport in the pilot’s lounge, relaxing before the next flight, a young guy entered the room, a teen or early 20’s. It’s sort of an un-written rule pilots only in the lounge, so everyone stopped talking and looked at him. He had such a beautiful smile.” said the pilot wistfully.

“The boy asked, “Who knows how to fly an A550 cargo lifter and is familiar with the NYC route?". As it happened this was my specialty but I didn’t say anything, not my job. The boy seemed to scan the room looking at each of us in turn. Then he was looking at me with those wonderful eyes. Without saying anything to my friends I just got up and followed him, he was that...charismatic. Had you met him you would understand Agent.”

David felt the brush of Master Troy’s mental fingers editing his memory. Gone was the moment when on the way to the aircraft when he had suddenly realized that he was GAY, gone the moment in the cockpit when he had knelt before his new Master and drunk his genetically modified sperm, the elixir that was even now optimizing his body, for future service. Gone was the three-hour orgy while the Autopilot flew the plane. Replaced with less colourful events.

“When we were outside he produced a suitcase. It was filled with more money than I had ever seen, and three vials in a refrigerated compartment. I guess one of those vials must have leaked or something. For that amount of money, I figured it would be ok to fly their cargo.”

“What exactly were you carrying, and where is it now? If it had just been a briefcase he wouldn’t have needed a cargo plane” demanded Muldoon.

“Just an old packing crate, they took it with them to.....Buffalo.” replied David as the city name in his memory changed.

Penthouse, Carlyle Hotel, New York City

Troy opened his eyes, relaxing after the effort. “I have changed our pilot’s memories, that should keep the FBI off our track for a while. They will be expecting us to be moving on, so we shall stay here for a day or two....do some sight seeing,...collect a few souvenirs of the big apple.”

Sean silently slipped a cola into his Master’s lazily outstretched hand. Privately he worried at the whole plan, Talon had proved himself to be a dangerous opponent, only Master Troy’s superior mental abilities had defeated the succubae Talon had sent after them. Coming to America to hunt the sorcerer on his own ground was a bold move, doubtless inspired by Avitus, Troy’s newest slave and one time emperor of Rome.

Muldoon glanced through the one-way opaque glass to where the sweat drenched pilot slumped against the interrogation table. “What do you think Solly?”

“He was lying of course, that much was obvious. Medically speaking, whatever the retro-virus is meant to do it seems to be having a beneficial effect on his physique...some sort of anti-aging serum perhaps?”

“But have you noticed how out of it he seems. He’d cut his own hand off if we asked him too. No...this something more sinister, possibly an attempt by aliens to create a more compliant humanity. " replied Muldoon.

Agent Solly rolled her eyes. “That’s quite a leap, based on what we know. And right now what we know isn’t leading us anyplace.”

Muldoon made himself comfortable complacently nursing a coffee mug. “We wait. Sooner or later they will turn up. They’re overconfident and inexperienced, the sort of person we normally deal with would have known to disable the cameras.”

Central Park NYC

Troy watched indulgently as Avitus wandered goggle eyed, taking in the monolithic architecture. The young Emperor had been trapped as a stone statue for close to two millennia, the culture shock was immense. Only Troy’s mental control had kept him from panicking on the plane from England.

Something itched at the back of his mind breaking his mellow mood, something was not right. It took a few moments to figure out what it was, the way pedestrians were avoiding eye contact and moving off.

“spread out, we look like a damn posse. I didn’t come all this way to get into a Manhattan turf war.” Ordered Troy, groaning inwardly as his slaves tried very hard to look innocent, and succeeded only in looking like they were planning a heist.

Avitus obeyed the instructions of his Master and moved a slight distance toward a stand of carefully tended trees. Familiar with the market places of ancient Actium and trained by the best gladiators, the brush of the pickpocket’s hand produced an instinctive reaction...sending the thief sprawling at the ex-emperor’s feet. A wicked looking blade tinkling against the hard black surface, dislodged from its sheath in the small of the thief’s back.

Using his foot to pin the thief’s neck and holding the man’s arm high behind him Avitus used his free hand to pick up the blade ready to dispense final justice.

Cries of “Drop the fucking knife!” and “Avitus stop!” caused Avitus to hesitate. The thief clearly had an accomplice and more importantly his Master was ordering him to show mercy.

Avitus became aware of things around him, three warriors stood before him, judging from their colouration they were Carthaginian or Nubian in origin as was his captive. They were pointing objects at him, from their attitude the things were weapons of some sort.

Avitus glanced at his Master. “Your command?”

The weapon was quickly redirected and now pointed straight at Troy. “You tell your homey to drop the sticker or you get a third eye fucker.”

Options ran through Troy’s head one after another. There were at least three ways to enslave the guy, but he was sure none of them would be faster than a trigger finger. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a skateboarder, somewhat incongruously entering data into a palm-PC... pretty much everyone else had backed away.

Subtlety was required, the gang leader could be made to pay later.

“Avitus, let him get up.” ordered Troy turning his attention to the gang leader

“Your boy needs practice if he’s going to dip pockets. Now why don’t you RELAX a little. You AREN’T going to shoot that gun. ALL you really want is your boy back.”

The gun wavered as Troy tweaked at the gang leader’s sub-conscious. All he needed was time. All he needed was...

The bullets were already out of the guns and speeding their way toward him...time seemed to slow....but it was not just his imagination, like a scene from “The Matrix” Time had genuinely stopped, the first bullet mere inches from his head. Plumes of smoke like cotton wool hung onto two of the three gun muzzles.

The only people moving were himself, Avitus and the skateboarder.

“hey dudes!” said the skateboarder a wide grin on his improbably handsome features.

“Hello, I assume that this is your doing.” replied Troy waving his hand at the frozen scene.

“Yeah...dunno why your bud’s still moving though...I didn’t programme him in.” said the skateboarder prodding at the Palm-PC speculatively.

“So what are you a genuine NYC superhero?” asked Troy, warming to the stranger’s cheerful manner, six-pack and generally well hung physique.

“What? Me?..Naaah..I’m just a horny sk8tr dude. Interesting idea though, I might give it a try sometime. Nope.. you’re bud was definitely supposed to be included in the time freeze. That’s the first time the old prog’s failed. Any idea why?”

“Avitus used to be a god, maybe that makes him immune.”

“Wow, awesome, which god were you? Zeus? Apollo?”

Avitus blushed and mumbled “Elagabalus, god of sex”

“hmMph never heard o’ that one...that’s what? Like Eros? You got wings bud?”

“No...not really”

“Whatever. Oh....I’m James by the way.”

“Troy” replied Troy offering his hand. James took the hand and pulled Troy close so that he could kiss deeply. Troy returned the kiss with equal passion.

Finally pulling back, Troy asked “Being able to stop time is a pretty significant ability, how do you do that?”

“Ha! Stopping time, that’s nothing. This Palm-PC has a programme on it that allows me to control local reality... Watch” boasted James pointing the Palm-PC at the pickpocket.

The thief seemed to blur around the edges coming back into focus, nearly a doubling in mass ...as he turned into a younger fatter version of the nutty professor.

“There. He’s gonna need a really punishing fitness regime if he ever wants to go back to crime”

“Gross!...but Interesting, a device like that would be very useful against a certain demon summoning scumbag I know. You WERE just going to give it to me weren’t you.” said Troy concentrating hard on twisting James’ mind, No easy task given the enhanced intellect hiding behind those piercing blue eyes.”

“sure here yah g....HEY!” said James snatching back the hand that held the Palm-PC.

“How’d you do that?”

“Mental powers...its a long story, weird science, magic, religion, telepathy, all kinds of shit. I seem to be picking up all these various mind control techniques. I can control people, even turn them gay if I want.” said Troy his finger caressing James’ jaw line.

James grinned a kind of lopsided grin. “Yeah, me too....turning them gay that is... A real turn on. But if you can do stuff like that why do y’want this ol’gizmo?”

“Trust me its in a good cause” replied Troy his other hand riding up James’ baggy shorts.

James felt his cock stiffen, the passion between he and Troy was intoxicating, but he instinctively knew the danger he was in, and pulled back.

“So any ideas what to do with these three excellent pieces of shit.” he said gesturing at the street gang.

“I can change their bodies and hormones, life history and shit, but they’ll still tend to revert to acting like scum.”

Troy glanced at the group speculatively cracking his fingers “add in a bit of an attitude adjustment, should take care of that. " “Got a deal bud” smiled James “How about we.....”

Leroy couldn’t believe they’d missed... and why was the guy grinning that way. Most of the bystanders had fled but the man’s buds seemed to be moving to form a human shield.

“At ease, slaves” commanded his target, his buds obeying instantly standing at parade rest.

“If he wants to shoot Me, let him try. But I warn you....Leroy ...shooting me will be your last mistake. Now put the gun down and leave.”

“Fuck You!” snarled Leroy, seriously spooked, how’d the Brit know his name. There was only one solution, he gently squeezed the trigger.

The shot rang out, at the same instant he felt twin pains in his chest. The guy was still standing.

“Every time you shoot that revolver it changes you a bit. It’s still not too late to take another path.” advised the Brit slipping off his T-Shirt to reveal his well defined physique. His eye seemed to gleam with an inner light

Leroy tapped him again, two shots this time, one aimed at the heart one at the head. He doubled over as pain shot through his chest and gun hand.

“Take a look at yourself Leroy my man, you must understand the consequences.” said the infuriatingly handsome and unscathed Brit. Leroy suddenly realised that the revolver felt heavier, and looked at his hand which was now manicured with red painted nails. Not taking his eye off the target he brought up his other hand to touch his chest which bulged slightly under his shirt.

“NOOOooooo!” he screamed his voice sounding higher as in a desperate rage he fired again and again and...

“Was that six shots...or only five? Do you feel lucky Punk?...I always wanted to say that.” said Troy in a poor Eastwood accent

“In your case Leroy you are lucky”

click..click.

Leroy let out a sob of despair, his huge breasts held tightly, painfully, constrained by the shirt that no longer even came close to fitting. “what have you done to me!”

“Me? I’ve done nothing to you, this fate was your choice.”

“Bastard!, what am I supposed to do now, looking like this. You didn’t even finish the job. I’m a fucking freak...a chick with a dick.”

Leroy’s tormentor glanced at the beautiful skateboarder who had slid off the wall and rolled up on his board.

“I see what you mean about that gizmo’s limits” he said to the sk8tr “Now it’s my turn.”

Leroy felt a sudden pressure in his eardrums as if he had suddenly changed altitude, with something like a tiny trickle of cold water were running down the inside of his head. The Brit was looking at him intently a look of great concentration on his face.

The gun felt disgusting, like touching snake skin, Leroy couldn’t imagine why he was holding such a horrid, nasty thing... If he wasn’t careful it would get gun oil all over his blouse, quickly he bent over and placed the icky thing on the grass, he would have thrown it from him but it could have gone off.

You should be feeling better shortly reassured a voice in his head I am just bringing you into focus

Leroy felt a sudden irrational fear as if parts of him were being stripped away, memories that didn’t feel like they were his anymore that gradually faded the more he concentrated on them.

Relax Leroy, the more relaxed you are the easier it will be. Feel yourself flowing into your new bodyshape. Enjoy the way your body moves, the way it increases your attractiveness.

Leroy’s hands moved over his new body exploring the newly massive cock and soft sensitive breasts, losing himself in an erotic daze. In the corner of his mind an idea was forming. Every one of his criminal buddies ought to feel like this, it was a gift from a Master, and it was his..no HER duty to remake them in her own image..whether they wanted it or not.

Plans bubbled in her head filling every thought until the odd pressure in his head popped leaving her thoughts perfectly clear. All thoughts of her past eliminated, all that was important now was fulfilling her dream.

Letoya undid her shirt rearranging and tying it as an improvised bra. Walking forward she knelt before her new master her head bowed.

“I am your bitch. " said the ex-murderer struggling to form words with his bimbo-ized brain.

Troy’s smile filled her with undreamed of hope. “Good boy Letoya, now take that gun of yours and shoot your crack dealer friends. Its effect on them should be...interesting . I have to alter a few more minds here, off you go now.

Letoya picked up his revolver and quickly reloaded. He had a pretty good idea what would happen to anyone he shot with it. He would need to get more ammo though.

Henry Nuchavo watched in horror as Leroy changed before his eyes. He really wanted to be some place else right now. The bastard was looking at him now. He felt the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Something bad was gonna happen to mamma Nuchevo’s little boy.

“You’ve got into bad company Henry” said the Brit conversationally “You wanted me dead too. I see that in your mind”

“Please! Don’t... Don’t..I never..” Henry pleaded unable even to give voice to what had been done to Leroy.

“I believe in second chances Henry” replied Troy “Remove your clothes.”

Henry quickly complied there was weird shit going on and he had a feeling that what had happened to Leroy might not be the worst that could happen. He took the way his own gun had turned to dust in his hand as a good indication of that.

“Now, down on all fours”

Henry had a sudden fear of a doggy destiny and tried again to run.

DOWN said a voice in his head. There was no choice but obedience, none at all.

“Avitus, he is yours” said the Brit to his Arabian bud.

Avitus smiled and quickly divested himself of the complicated modern clothing. He walked around the prostrate Nubian examining. Back in the Empire this one would have fetched a high price at auction, strong with a well defined musculature. The buttocks were classic. The warrior’s phallus however appeared somewhat small in its flaccid state. That of course was fear induced and would soon be remedied.

“My Master has given you to me, you are now my slave. You have no need to fear. I once owned thousands such as you. I think that you will come to enjoy your new role.” said the young ex-emperor running his hand along the slave’s ebony spine, feeling the delicious shiver of fear that ran through the Nubian.

Henry glared up at the teenager, the regal posture and sulky richboy smile. The Arab must be a sheik’s son or something he figured. No way had this one ever been on the street. As soon as he had a chance this one would be dead meat.

“You have spirit, I see. That is good, I like a bit of fire.”

“Ain’t no slave, fucking kill you first, fucking shirtlifter!” growled Henry forgetting his terror and inability to move.

“May I explain what I will do Master?”

“Go for it Avitus, I think James here is getting off on it.” replied Troy tweaking the sk8tr’s Arse cheek

“You see slave, I am the Avatar...the living body.. Of the God Elagabalus. The God of sex. Once my phallus has entered your virgin ass ...and yes I can sense that you have never had a woman... you will become an acolyte, the first in over a millennia to worship me... I mean.. Worship Elagabalus.”

“leave out the religious bollocks, If you are going rape me, bloody get it over with.”

“As you will it.”

Henry felt two hands rest gently on his hips and tensed determined not to let “it” happen. He felt it then hard, yet silky soft just brushing the crevice between his ass cheeks. One of the hands gently pushed between his shoulder blades. His enslaved body moved as easily as if it were a posable action figure, his face in the grass his ass high.

The silky smooth thing that he did not want to name was pushing now at his hole, was it in yet or was it just just pushing at the entry? Hard to tell. It was a new and terrible feeling. Suddenly he felt his ass muscles slip tighter the bastard’s cock head was in him.

The pain of being stretched was bad but not as unbearable as he had imagined. His body was betraying him, the pain was fading away, and then the bastard thrust in. It wasn’t fair, this should hurt, it shouldn’t feel so damn good. Kind of like what he had imagined doing it to a bitch was like but in reverse. His rapidly expanding cock slapped heavily against his leg.

Ok, he admitted to himself I like this, but no way am I buying into this slavery shit. Suddenly the rhythm of thrusts increased and the bastard breathing quickened. Hot cum jazzed up into him and suddenly he was shooting too...despite his cock never having been touched.

Henry felt a presence in his mind, a radiant beautiful presence...a God. Knowledge of exactly what he was and what he was to do filled him with joy and holy purpose. Soon New York would learn to worship Elagabalus and HE was to spread the word.

Avitus got up and turned to face James and Master Troy. “It is done. He is mine now.”

James sniffed dubiously “So he looked like he enjoyed getting fucked, doesn’t mean he’s reformed though.”

“Sir, I am an acolyte of the Elagabal. It’s like, my duty, to give pleasure. May I give you release?” replied Henry getting to his feet and gently stroking his already revived cock.

“Guess, I spoke too soon. Why don’t you minister to doughboy over there.” said James indicating the newly obese pickpocket who had managed to heave himself up to a sitting position and was sobbing.

“At once” replied Henry eager to start spreading the faith.

Spider Clarke had been feeling strange ever since the nightmare had started, like Henry he was frozen in place, couldn’t even move his eyes to look at the changes he could feel taking place in his body. He was shorter, that at least he could figure out, down from 6′4″ to about 5′8″ he figured. He was pretty sure that he Hadn’t grown breasts, and was grateful for that. Their attention was on him now and something in his head tingled in warning.

“Spider” said the guy that they had shot at “You are the least guilty, you aimed your gun at that tree. Inside you don’t want to be a criminal, you just never really had a choice. ”

“That’s...that’s true” admitted Spider, wondering how the hell the guy had known about his carefully hidden doubts.

“You don’t need to have your mind rearranged, like the others, all you need is the strength to do the right thing. So here’s the deal. You get a fresh start, a new identity, a good monthly income. All you have to do is fight crime.”

Spider glanced over at where Henry was making out with Joe the newly obese pickpocket. Things could be much, much worse.

“You got a deal man”

“He’s all yours Sk8tr, he means it” said Troy

The one called James or Sk8tr flipped open the lid of his palm-PC and hit a single key.

Spider suddenly felt an irresistible urge to flex his muscles. As he flexed his clothes seemed to glow along the edges, bright white energy eating away at them each thread like a miniature fuse burning away to nothing, leaving exposed his magnificently perfect physique. He hadn’t expected to feel... to be.. younger and certainly hadn’t expected to be white skinned, but who the fuck cared, it was such a rush, even his cock was enhanced.

He glanced up at the two responsible for his transformation and immediately felt his cock stiffen. My god, he thought, they are fucking beautiful.

James turned to Troy and waved a hand at the naked curly haired teen that had not yet realised he was floating just above the ground.

“Can I cook or what! Allow me to introduce SuperTeen, like superboy, but 100% gay, 100% up for it and 100% uncostumed. No dodgy power-ranger lycra, his chest logo is a part of his skin and he can morph back to his old looks as a secret identity.”

SuperTeen, who had been absent mindedly stroking his cock suddenly had a far away look. “Gotta go, there’s trouble over in the village.”

A fleshtoned gust of wind zipped between them at about head height, shortly followed by a sonic boom.

“Aww dammit! and he looked so damn cute” grumbled James

“Impressive” replied Troy “So now that we’ve dealt with the thieves, I guess I need to thank you properly. I may not be SuperTeen, but I think I can give you something different, something you need. You’re bored with always being in control...I can tell”

“yeah right but...”

“Shhh let me finish” said Troy putting two fingers to James’ lips “So lose control, let yourself go...just for a short time, you have failsafes built into that gizmo that prevent abuse. No harm, no foul. It’s tempting isn’t it.”

“Are you trying to hypnotise me?” said James leaning his arms on Troy’s shoulders and snuggling closer.

“Naw, I already did that. It just hasn’t got up to a conscious level yet.” replied Troy

“Oh!, that’s alright then” said James

James leaned into kiss and the distractions of the world went away as he concentrated on serving his master.

Muldoon and Solly entered the Director’s office wondering why they had been summoned. On the desk were three new files.

“Firstly, any progress on the airport case?” snapped the Director

“A similar event occurred early this morning involving a flight to New Orleans, I was about to requisition a plane when you summoned us.”

“I have two new cases that need to be looked into. There’s a She-male out there shooting other She-males..odd thing is the wounded all claim that they didn’t used to have breasts before they were shot...that’s case one.”

“Case two..” The Director slid a picture across the desk. “We stopped the press from publishing but that won’t last if he keeps this up.”

“This picture, its got to be fake” exclaimed Agent Solly before passing it to Muldoon.

The picture showed an impressively proportioned youth. There were a few odd things about the teen. Firstly he appeared to be hovering about 12ft above the sidewalk, secondly he held what appeared to be an unconscious masked gunman in each hand and thirdly he was stark naked...and erect.

A city someplace in the world

James awoke in his command room, and stretched, luxuriating in the aches pains, bite marks and scratches that reminded him of yesterday’s marathon fuck session. The genetic splice present in his Master’s sperm had done its usual work, enhancing his already impressive cock and reducing his freewill to near zero.

Leaning over to the computer he hit the F10 reset key as Master had ordered. His body and mind immediately morphed back 24 hours.

“Weird dream” mumbled James rubbing his neck where the French kisses were fading away.

“Voice Command: activate monitors”

James immediately noticed that four new screens had appeared on the array, displaying the lives of people that the maker program had altered. The background seemed to be a cityscape that he did not recognize. They were a gun toting She-male, a cultist priest, a naked bulletproof flying teen who appeared to be circling the statue of liberty. and on the bottom screen a silluete with the legend “in case of emergency press here—Troy”.

“Who the hell is Troy?” wondered James. “And what the Fuck was I doing in New York??

Lakeside Airport, New Orleans

The sales assistant, smiled like a love smitten puppy as he handed over the HP Jornada Palm-PC, completely forgetting the business about the customer needing to pay.

“Thank You” replied Troy flipping open the memory port and inserting the compactFlash chip that James had given him. A few key presses later an identical palm-PC materialised on the shelf behind the assistant.