The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Nearly all the actors are back on the Ward set of the studio’s main sound stage today, to film the introduction to the second of the three new test patients, as the Professor and Matron’s morning rounds continue.

The little ward rounds party of doctors and nurses leaves the bedside of Mr & Mrs Fallow, crossing over towards the one occupied middle bed of the three on the opposite side of the Ward. As they cross, Matron reminds Nurse Juggs that it is time for Patient Zero’s monitoring stats, and the bimbo nurse temporarily totters off set, exiting through the ward’s rear side door which ostensively serves as the door into the patient’s private side room.

Meanwhile, sitting up in the ward bed is the familiar figure of plain talking, some would say potty mouthed, Yorkshire comedian Frankie Monkton. He’s wearing a vicar’s dog collar, the green hospital bed sheet covering him concealing a wooden prop designed to make it look as if the late-50s comedian has a huge erection.

“Reverand Bonkem, welcome” Prof Hardshaft says. “It’s Mr Bonkem actually” Matron corrects the Professor in a disapproving tone. “He’s not actually ordained, just fancies himself as the head of his own sex cult church.”

“We are all called to serve the Lord in different ways my dear, and I prefer the term community church if you don’t mind” he defends himself, looking hurt. “Who do you pray to hot stuff?” Bonkem continues, addressing Nurse Premie directly, the bed sheet covering his ‘erection’ growing an inch taller as he eyes up the crossdresser, eliciting a fit of giggles from the horny drugged sissy nurse.

“Exactly how has your… er…” starts Prof Hardshaft trying to get the conversation back on track. “My affliction?” Bonkem interjects to help out. “Yes… your affliction! How exactly did it come about?” asks the Professor.

“I’m glad you asked. You see, my church was recently blessed with a new alter girl. I say girl, but she is a recent divorcee with two kids, so woman really. Anyway, this girl has some particularly fine assets, and as her spiritual shepherd so to speak, I could sense she would benefit from my personal hands on guidance. You’d be surprised how many of my flock find it a comfort” the fake Rev added firmly, giving Matron a hard stare.

“Well, you know how it is Prof” Bonkem continued. “What with all this impotency thing going around. I didn’t want to let the young lady down. So, I got a couple of your miracle pills off the black market, just to make sure our bible studies were a success you understand.”

“You couldn’t just ask god to provide then?” Matron interrupted sarcastically. “Oh, but he did” Bonkem continued smoothly. “He provided the man who sold me the pills. Only it turns out that these black-market pills are all fakes of course. Honestly, you can’t trust anyone these days.”

“And the… affliction?” Prof Hardshaft prompted. “Well, yes, those fake pills got me as hard as a flagpole, but try as she might, the young lady couldn’t make anything happen. No flag would unfurl as it were. And to add insult to injury, the affliction seems permanent. It’s like having a useless inert water pipe stuck to you, but the well is dry. I can’t carry on like this!”

“Well, you’ll certainly provide a useful and educational test case for my real pill” Professor Hardshaft says. “I think it should be able to provide some relief and help to sort you out. Better start the patient on a double dose please” he says to Nurse Juggs, who is just coming back from Patient Zero’s side room to re the main group. “Before the Reverand explodes entirely” the Prof adds, seeing Bonkem’s comedy tented bed sheet grow another couple of inches at the sight of the returning pneumatic bimbo nurse. “Give it a few hours for the treatment to take effect, if the patient is currently inert, before starting the regular monitoring samples please trainee Nurse Premie” Hardshaft concludes.

As the little ward rounds party starts crossing back over towards the third, and last, of the new patients occupying the last of the three beds on the other side of the ward, Nurse Premie leans in to whisper in Bonkem’s ear. “Keep it warm for me Rev” the horny intoxicated crossdresser says in a low giggly voice. “I’ll be back later to run my hands up that pipe. I’m sure I’ll get something to leak.”

“Cut!” shouts one of the Assistant Directors who is standing in for Bill Master today.

Director and Producer, Bill Master, is off set today for marketing duties, at a presser in a posh central London hotel.

Normally, there would be one big event for all the critics, just ahead of the film’s premiere, but given the somewhat controversial rebooting of the Carry On franchise, the press team had decided to take a different approach. To first invite just a handful of more sympathetic media journalists, well ahead of the film’s release, to generate favourable coverage and build anticipation, by giving special early access to some of the key scenes already filmed.

Currently sat on the sofa with Bill Master in the hotel suite, is the fourth of five friendly critics being given exclusive privileged access today. Clive Norman was probably the most sceptical of the five being buttered up to puff the forthcoming new movie. The mid-30s film critic writes for an influential broadsheet paper, as well as hosting his own popular film podcast. A self-confessed fan of the original Carry On movies, Clive has however questioned whether a new film could still work in today’s social media society.

An assistant has already given Clive the inevitable presser free goody pack, all the freebies contained in the equally inevitable Carry On branded tote bag. Clive looked inside while waiting for his interview turn with Bill Master, and was surprised to find a Carry On branded pink chastity cage, and a Carry On branded Black dildo, among the more regular freebie items.

“So, are these just to try and shock us into writing about you because the film’s not up to scratch, or an ission that Carry On can’t compete in today’s world without going down the explicit sex route?” became Clive’s first question to Master to kick things off.

“Neither Clive” the Director and Producer replied unfazed. “In fact, we are going to be the first film ever to give every audience member their own free goodie bag to the movie. I want to democratise the cinema experience. Why should only the critics get special treatment?”

“Wow, that would certainly be a big news story” said Clive. “But surely you can’t afford to do that? Or are you worried that audiences need the extra incentive to go see this new Carry On film?”

“Well, if the film is a big enough hit, which we are confident it will be, then we think we can make the finances work” claimed Bill Master. “Will people go see it? I think people will be as excited as we are about this new Carry On film, and we hope you will give us a favourable write up, to be part of building that excitement. But I would say that wouldn’t I. Of course, you need to judge for yourself Clive. Shall we watch some clips?” he said, indicating towards the larger screen version of the studio’s little flickering tablets, sat on the coffee table in front of them.

“Please” agreed Clive eagerly. “You know I’m a big fan of the originals, and super keen to see what the new movie might be like. And yes, I promise to give you a fair review. If I think it’s good, I’ll be honest and say so.”

“I can’t ask for more than that. These are some early rushes of course, not final edits” explained the Black Man, reaching for a remote control. “So, the cuts and sound quality may vary here and there, and just try to ignore the annoying little flickering anti-piracy watermark. As you’ll appreciate, we can’t be too careful these days about online leaks ahead of official release, so our layers insist on it I’m afraid.”

Fortunately, Clive found that his subconscious quickly filtered out the annoying, but understandable, security measure, and he was soon able to relax and enjoy the clips. And yes, he was enjoying them. Really enjoying them. He had to it that the studio had done a great job of retaining enough feel of the originals to give a big, warm hit of nostalgia, while modernising the format for new, younger audiences too.

He started to laugh out loud at the jokes. Heartier laughs than the jokes deserved he realised, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Yes, this film was great, really enjoyable, a classic of the genre even. It was going to be a big hit for sure. Everyone should definitely go see it.

Clive started to think about must see films like Casablanca, Citizen Kane, Star Wars, Titanic. In its own way, this film too was a masterpiece. He caught himself. What was he thinking? He was a meant to be a critic after all, not some sycophantic fan. He was simply getting too caught up in the nostalgia of it all. Yes, that must be it.

But there was no denying this was a great film. A hugely enjoyable romp. So easy just to relax and sink into the story. To let it warp around you like a comforting hug. So important that everyone should see it and experience this happiness too. Just mindless pleasure.

Bill Master had watched with amusement the internal struggle on the face of the critic, like the three others before him, as the journalist stared increasingly blankly at the TV screen, jaw slackening until a little drool started dibbling out.

He took that as his sign to slip a pair of headphones over the unresisting critic’s head. “I think you’ll enjoy this too” Bill said. “We’ve already recorded some of the Director’s Commentary about the scenes for the DVD release.”

“Yes… must… listen” the entranced critic mumbled in a distant, far away voice as the softly reassuring, but commanding, tones of Master’s voice began playing over the movie’s soundtrack.

The flickering TV screen had moved onto playing the sequences featuring the infertile couple Mr & Mrs Fallow. These scenes represented part of the updating and modernising of the movie franchise for newer audiences. A social commentary, the Director’s voice explained, of the rise of dominant Black culture, and the struggle of little white betas to accept their natural place in the modern order of things. Mr Fallow, limp and impotent, unable to satisfy his wife. Mrs Fallow taking what she needs from a real alpha man.

Art is simply reflecting the real world around it, as on screen, Mrs Fallow pleasures herself behind a hospital privacy curtain with a Big Black Dildo, just like the one in Clive’s goodie bag. And as the MILF says “Black Breeding is essential” to close the scene, Clive knows she is simply speaking the gospel truth.

A caption appears on the TV, announcing that the next clip has been filmed as an ‘extra’ for the DVD release only. In his ears, Master tells Clive they are not sure if they will need to include a warning before this next scene, because most viewers seem unable to watch it without masturbating.

It’s understandable. As Professor Hardshaft fucks Mrs Fallow over his desk, Clive too finds his hand just naturally starting to wank his little white dicklet, so small and pathetic compared to the powerful Big Black Cock on the screen. So good to watch a real man fucking. And as the on-screen MILF gets bred, Clive leaks his own little sticky tribute to the masterful performance he has just witnessed.

His little spent white worm quickly shrinks back to a tiny nub, while on the TV, another as yet unseen clips plays. Nurse Juggs enters Patient Zero’s room. “Big day today sweetie” the bimbo says. “The Government Minister is visiting to sign off on Professor Hardshaft’s miracle drug. So, we need you to look your best, before we move you into the main ward, to show you off with all the other new patients.”

“Looking hot” she adds stepping back, taking in Patient Zero, who is wearing a pink wig, with pink make-up and pink lacy bra and panties. “Just one final touch” the bimbo nurse adds, holding a pink flat chastity cage. “You want to be a good boi for Mommy Juggs, don’t you sweetie?” Which elicits a submissive moan from the sissy boi, mirrored by the same coming from the watching critic.

And as, on screen, Nurse Juggs fits the chastity cage, Clive reaches into the goodie bag and slips his own pink cage over his limp dicklet in a kind of mindless, obedient, autopilot.

The ending of the scene, and the sharp click of the chastity cage locking tight around him, jerks Clive out of his hypnotic stupor. He looks at the Director in a dazed and confused manor, as the muscular Black Man smiles and takes the headphones from his ears.

“Did you enjoy that boi? Master asks. “Oh my, yes!” gushes Clive with enthusiastic conviction. “That has to be one of the best movies I have ever seen. Everyone must go and see it.”

“Well, I’m afraid that’s our allotted time up for today” the Director continues, “but I look forward to reading your articles about the new film in due course.”

“Yes Master” the critic says, getting up to leave, his little sissy dicklet straining in its cage at the thought of pleasing the Alpha God with his positive reviews.

“Oh, and don’t forget your goodie bag” Master reminds his newest beta slave. “I’ve popped a DVD copy of today’s clips in there too. I’m sure you will want to watch them again when you get home. And I believe you have a young wife too?”

“Yes” says Clive eagerly, suddenly excited at the prospect of showing the DVD to his pretty wife. “She’s a producer on the Daybreak TV breakfast show. Not a great fan of the old Carry On films like me, says they were too sexist, but I’m sure she will want to have you on the show once she’s seen how great these clips are.”

And with that, the latest recruit to the Black New World Order leaves the hotel suite, his inferior beta clitty straining painfully in its new chastity cage, threatening to leak again at the exciting thought of his hot wife mindlessly thrusting that Carry On branded Big Black Dildo deep into her welcoming wet pussy, as she watches the compelling DVD with him.

Meanwhile, back at the Studio in Wimbledon, the afternoon’s filming has been continuing with a number of short sequences, to be edited in later, which help move the plot along.

The first has Matron talking to Nurse Juggs at the end of the morning ward rounds. “When you’ve finished up here nurse, you better head straight to the dispensing room to prepare all these pills for the new patients” she tells the bimbo nurse, handing her the small key for the pill storeroom next to her office.

We cut later to Nurse Juggs walking past the door of Matron’s office, pausing only to giggle at the moans emanating from within, before she unlocks and enters the little pill storeroom.

Sometime later still, we see a dishevelled looking Nurse Premie furtively leaving Matron’s Office, and waking cautiously away, in some discomfort, and slightly bow legged, as if the crossdresser has been riding a horse. As Nurse Premie is leaving, we see Nurse Juggs again, with her back to Nurse Premie, leaving the storeroom and walking away down the corridor and around the corner. Seeing his chance, Nurse Premie quickly spins around, rushing forward to slip into the little storeroom before the door swings shut and locks again.

It takes no more than a cursory inspection for Arthur, in another filmed scene, to confirm that he has found the room where the miracle pills are stored, which was what his criminal father had sent him into the hospital dressed as a nurse to look for.

As Nurse Premie leaves the storeroom, back past Matron’s Office, we see Dr Limpman hiding by the corridor corner. Now, he dashes forward to slip into the little room before the door swings shut.

Which cuts back to the storeroom set again, where inside, Dr Limpman makes a more thorough examination of the pill room. He picks up one of the boxes on the left labelled ‘V-X1’ in large letters, then scrutinises the identical unlabelled boxes on the right, reading the small faint printing on them which says ‘Warning, extremely high-grade estrogen with additional hallucinogens’. Eventually he finds the stockpile of printed labels in the draw, and looks thoughtfully for a while, before carefully pealing back a V-X1 label on one box to uncover the faint printing beneath. “Good lord” he exclaims as the scene fades to black.

We transition to a nighttime scene. Nurse Premie is slipping out of the hospital apartment she shares with Nurse Juggs, obviously still a man dressed in a ridiculous woman’s nightgown. The crossdressing actor tip toes towards a wall of payphones, and checking no-one is about, picks up a receiver and dials. “Yes Dad… the little storeroom next to Matron’s Office… just a simple door lock.”

With the day’s filming over, Babs Fawcett is once again to be seen walking through the trailer park, but tonight someone else is taking the rushes to the Assistant Director. She has been invited for a drink with old flame Frankie Monkton.

About the same age, they had both been young and enthusiastic when they had first worked together on Carry On Columbus, and she had had a short fling with the charismatic up and coming comedian. At the time, it had been painful when it ended, but now, with an ex-husband behind her, Babs found past disagreements mattered less with the benefit of hindsight, and the pair had somehow managed to become good friends again, even though she knew Frankie would really like that to be friends with benefits.

En route to Frankie’s trailer, Babs noticed how James Ackland’s trailer was rocking on its suspension to a strong regular beat. She smiled. The powerful Black Shemale, Valeria, had been telling her how accommodating the unsuspecting actor was being, helping to rehearse for their big scene every night. It seemed that method acting was the only thing that really helped Valeria. So, both actors had full immersed themselves in their characters, becoming Sid Premie and Matron even off-camera, fully inhabiting the roles and their story. Living for real their character’s feelings and actions.

Frankie Monkton had already started on a bottle of whiskey when Babs arrived. “Aren’t we getting a bit old for hell raising?” she asked as they embraced and kissed. “Nonsense Barbara” he laughed, “Someone has to compensate for all these dullards you’ve got here. Dull old James Ackland, dull young Philip Stacker, oh, and not forgetting that creepy old pervert Ken McBain!” She had to laugh with him, Frankie was as charismatic as ever.

They drank, chewed the cud, and laughed over old times for a while, before Babs said, “Nice work today by the way. You had a long monologue there at one point. That must have taken some time to learn all the lines.”

“Been glued to this thing for the last week” Frankie itted, picking up one of the studio’s little flickering tablets. “I see” she said with a pleased, knowing smile. “But you should really talk to your IT people” he continued. “Why’s that Frankie?” Babs asked. “Its wifi connection is totally open, nothing to stop you watching porn” he explained. “Look, you can even stream it straight to the big screen” Frankie added, illustrating his point with a flick of his finger on the tablet, bringing the trailer’s TV screen to life with a snowbunny, ass up, face down on a big bed, getting slammed from behind by a Big Black Cock.

“So, not so much a long week learning your lines, as a long week gooning your little stick” Babs laughed at his provocation. “Hey, not so much of the little, if you don’t mind” he retorted. “If you haven’t forgotten, you of all people ought to know, I could totally have acted that bed sheet scene myself, without any wooden prop, thank you very much.” And as if to need to somehow prove his point, Frankie stood up and dropped his pants.

Even with their friendship, the old Frankie would have known his behaviour was crossing a line. But this Frankie, who had been looking at the flickering screen all week, was drowning in a fog of confusing, horny thoughts.

Babs regarded his semi erect cock, then looked up at the screen. “You’re going to need to do better than that to measure up to those Big Black Cocks” she observed cooly. “Give me a chance” Frankie objected, starting to wank his cock to a full erection. “Looks to me like it was a good job we made that prop” Babs laughed at his erection. “Hey, a bit of here wouldn’t go amiss” he protested, looking crestfallen.

She stood up, moving to his side, her big, warm MILF tits pressing against him, as her hand reached around his cock replacing his. Babs gently brushed a lock of hair from his ear with her other hand, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. “I bet you’ve been gooning your little stick all week to these Big Black Cocks fucking tight white pussies, haven’t you” she whispered in soft, horny, velvet tones, slowly rubbing his cock up and down. The pathetic low moan coming from Frankie providing all the confirmation she needed.

“I bet you’ve only been cuming to interracial porn haven’t you. A weak, Black Only gooner, just like every other little white boi” she added, knowing the true fact would hit home. After all, the tablet was programmed to only show him increasingly strong interracial porn. “I bet you can’t take your eyes off these hypnotic Big Black Cocks, can you. I bet you need to cum in tribute every time you see a Big Black Cock” Babs pressed on, her hand starting to go a little faster now, Frankie’s eyes glued to the large flickering screen, like a rabbit trapped in headlights.

“It’s only natural really. Big Black Cock makes every white girl and boi cum. They are just obviously so much bigger, so much stronger, so much more powerful. No little white worm could ever hope to measure up to that. Just never made to satisfy pussy like that” she continued, as on screen, three muscular Black Men were fucking three blonde, moaning pornstars, dressed as schoolgirls, bent over their pretend desks.

“Big Black Cocks were made to fuck and breed. White dicklet clitties can only dribble in tribute and iration. Every time you cum, you cum in tribute to Black superiority. You worship and honour it.” Wanking his straining cock fast now.

“Black Men are better than you in every way. Superior to you, because they are your Masters. Tell me that Black Men are your… Masters.” The final word emphasised with an extra strong tug on his turgid member.

“Tell me that Black Men are your Masters” she repeats, tugging hard on his cock twice more, before the broken and mindless comedian hesitantly repeats the phrase, first as a whisper, then louder and louder at her urging.

“Yes, good boi. You can’t help but cum in tribute every time you see a superior Big Black Cock” she exclaims, laughing as she takes her hand from his climaxing cock, leaving him to spurt ropes of cum uselessly over the trailer floor in a ruined orgasm.

The next day, they hadn’t resumed filming for very long on the main Ward set, when Frankie Monkton called for a halt.

He wouldn’t tell anyone what was wrong, insisting that he would only speak to Barbara Fawcett. As the Assistant Producer was also acting today, she tottered over from her ‘husband’s’ bedside on the other side of the set, made up as Mrs Fallow, to speak to him privately in hushed tones.

After a few minutes, Babs lifts the tented bedsheet and peers under. “Oh, I see. You’ve made lots a sticky cummie tributes” she says quietly to Frankie, looking round the set at the sea of Black refugee faces of the production crew staring back at them. “My, my, have you been thinking about all their Big Black Cocks you naughty slut?”

“I can’t help it” he whispered, looking at her with pleading eyes. “Ok” Babs said loudly, taking control of the situation. “Let’s break for a rest day today, while I help sort out Frankie, and we will pick up again bright and early tomorrow please. Oh, and can someone get this washed” she says, whisking the sheet from Frankie’s bed, and dropping it onto the floor of the set.

Safely back in Frankie’s trailer, Babs knew what medicine she needed to ister to help the broken comedian with his real life ‘affliction’. He sat all afternoon and evening, mindlessly watching interracial porn on the big flickering screen, the MILF teasing his cock to repeated ruined orgasms, over and over without rest, as he chanted his new mantras. “Black Men are my Masters… My only purpose is to cum in tribute to every Big Black Cock I see.” Until he had spurted, then dribbled, then dripped, so many sticky salutes to his superiors, that there could barely be any bodily fluids left inside his obedient husk.

“Now, this is how we are going to get you through the movie” Babs tells him, as she clicks shut a pink chastity cage over his exhausted, limp dicklet. “Safely locked away while we film, saving it all up for a nice big tribute in the evening.” Of course, eventually she knows, Frankie will simply leak uncontrollably in his cage, but for now it will help the oblivious actor get through the next few weeks of filming at least. And after that, well, he will discover that there are many different ways he can serve his new Masters in the Black New World Order.

So, they return to filming the next day, Frankie quickly settling into his new routine. His useless white clitty safely locked away all day, except for when he gets back to his trailer in the evening, and Babs unlocks him for just long enough to unload his large backed up load of sticky cum tributes in ruined orgasms to the Big Black Cocks on the flicker TV screen.

Naturally, as the week progresses, the amount of on-screen stimulation, and the length of time he needs from Barbara’s hand to reach his ruined orgasm tributes, becomes less and less.

By the second week, poor Frankie isn’t even making it past the opening minutes of the interracial porn he is watching. Just the sight of those clothed sluts starting to peel down a Black Master’s pants, and the look of surprised joy and awe as a Big Black Cock flops out into their faces, is enough to make his sticky tributes explode from him, with barely a couple of little tugs from Barbara’s hand.

In the third week, the girls have gone completely. He simply stares at a huge Black Master’s Big Black Cock swaying from side to side, in front of a spiralling background, as he chants his mantras. Babs barely has enough time sometimes to get him unlocked, before the tribute to his superiors starts to issue forth.

What Babs hasn’t told Frankie, is that the swaying, hypnotic Big Black Cock on the screen he is worshiping is actually that of Director and Producer, Bill Master. But he will find that out for himself one day soon no doubt.

“So, what are you going to call this new film? Everyone wants to know!” Frankie asks Babs one day, as she clicks shut his cage after his latest cum tribute to Master’s Big Black Cock.

“I think I might call it Carry On Chastity” she laughs.