The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

BNWO Studio’s production crew of young Black refugees resumes filming this morning for the scenes involving the third of Professor Hardshaft’s three new test patients.

After a temporary hiatus yesterday, while Yorkshire comedian Frankie Monkton had a meltdown, the full cast are back on the main set of Finisham Hospital’s Experimental Fertility Ward.

“Action” shouts Director and Producer, Bill Master, as the actors comprising the little wards round party cross back over from the Reverand Bonkem’s ludicrously tented erection bed, being played by Frankie, towards the last of the occupied hospital beds.

The handsome young actor sitting up in that bed is rising star, Tom Harpmacher, cast to draw in a younger audience to the film. The 22-year-old, already nicknamed ‘Tom Heartbreaker’ in the tabloid press, has a huge following among young women on TikTok, thanks to a couple of hit teen romance movies. Despite some misgivings about how reviving the Carry On format might fare in today’s culture, landing this part still represents an important next big break for the rising star.

“This is Tom Heartbreaker” Matron tells the Professor, the Carry On script team having decided it would be funny to use his tabloid moniker for his character’s screen name. “Ah, yes, our control subject for Patient Zero” says Professor Hardshaft. “Do you currently have a girlfriend Mr Heartbreaker?” The heartthrob looks crestfallen. “I had three” he replies, “but they all dumped me not long after volunteering at the refugee welcome centre.”

“Don’t worry sweetie, we’ll have you enjoying a whole new sex life before you know it” Matron reassures him, the predatory hung Black Shemale having clearly taken a shine to the young patient, and the prospect of breaking in another tight white arsehole, like she did with Patient Zero. “But with your pretty looks, I think I’ll be having to fight off Nurse Juggs and Nurse Premie here to take care of you!” she adds.

“Quite” agrees the Professor. “Well, either way, we can start the patient on the standard dose and monitoring immediately please. And perhaps Nurse Juggs, while we are waiting for the Reverand Bonkem to come down as it were, you can show Trainee Nurse Premie how to collect a monitoring sample, while Matron and I check in on our Patient Zero.”

The two actors exit the set via Patient Zero’s side room door, leaving Nurse Juggs to draw the privacy curtain around herself and Nurse Premie, still standing by Tom Heartbreaker’s bed. The audience, and the other ward patients, can only hear Nurse Juggs speaking from behind the blue curtain surrounding Tom’s bed.

“That’s the way, a firm grip with one hand Nurse Premie” she says. “A little faster now. Get ready to catch the sample in the testing tube. Good job. Now we clean up the patient. Well, we usually just use a tissue, but I suppose that’s one way of doing it.”

Nurse Juggs draws back the curtain. Tom Heartbreaker has a happy, goofy smile on his face, and the intoxicated crossdresser, Nurse Premie, is licking her lips.

Over on the other side of the ward, in the middle bed, the Reverand Bonkem has a horny, envious look on his face. “Nurse, nurse” he calls the bimbo Nurse Juggs back over. “You know, I think I’m ready to have my sample taken now.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get round to you soon enough” the bimbo nurse giggles saucily. “Just let me go and get your medication first.”

“Cut” shouts the Director.

After their lunch break, one of the many Assistant Directors will pick up filming some more short, actor specific scenes, for editing into the finished film.

Director and Producer, Bill Master, has another appointment in central London, this time at the officers of the Film Censor Board, who have to sign off on the movie’s certification for general release.

Eating a sandwich in his trailer office before leaving, Bill has a very pleasing array of newspaper and magazine articles spread out across his large desk. All are gushing, enthusiastic puff pieces for the new film, urging people to go and see it, from the five Blacked critics he enslaved to the Black New World Order a few days ago.

The planted positive stories have helped to create a knock-on media storm of interest more generally in the new film, other journalists not wanting to miss out on a story, currently largely focused on the mystery of what the title of this new Carry On film will actually be.

Bill notices, as he leaves the studio in a limo, that all this increased media interest has led to much larger crowds of horny white sluts hanging around outside the gates, all wanting to get in on a piece of the action.

Bill Master has bought two of his young refugee Assistant Directors along with him, as the limo pulls up outside the Victoria Street offices of the Film Censor Board. They wait in reception for Amy Watkin, the current, and first female Director of the Film Board, who has to approve the film’s release.

Master has never met Amy before, his own online porn output never having to be very concerned about regulation, but Babs Fawcett, his Assistant Producer, counted Amy as a good friend, and has briefed him well. In some ways Babs and Amy are like two peas in a pod, both older, power dressing MILFs, occupying positions of power in an otherwise largely male dominated industry.

But there, the similarities ended. Despite her hot blonde appearance, Amy had been a young darling of the Christian Right when a previous Conservative Government originally appointed her to the top spot. Although anyone who had hoped for an ideological rolling back of liberal media standards would have been disappointed, as over the last 22 years, Amy had unexpectedly demonstrated a skilled, deft touch at balancing maintaining standards while allowing creative freedom.

“Bill, good to meet you” Amy said, shaking the Black Man’s hand. She was any little racist Aeryon’s mommy fetish wet dream. Shoulder length wavey blonde hair, died he noticed, black stockings with small black ankle boots, a knee length black faux leather skirt and bright red blouse, showing off her big MILF tits, which Bill felt sure must have been enhanced by some plastic surgery. A contradiction then. A morale gatekeeper for family values, but someone who was happy to dress like a slut herself. Making a statement about power perhaps. Do as I say, don’t do as I do. But a body built for Big Black Cock for sure, even if Amy didn’t know it yet.

“I’m so delighted you and Barbara are finally doing another Carry On” Amy continued, as Bill was sizing her up. “Carry on Columbus was one of the first movies I had to certify when I was originally appointed to this job, and we’ve stayed friends ever since” she added, leading them all to the Film Censor Board’s little film screening room.

Thanks to Babs, Master knew what to expect, that Amy had adopted the unusual practise of one of her predecessors. Instead of discussing problematic scenes, Amy would gently squeeze the Director’s hand, as they watched the film together, when any unacceptable content needed to be cut out. Ostensively, that was why the two Assistant Directors had also come along today, in order to take the necessary notes, although Amy would soon discover they were actually there for an altogether different reason.

“Please ignore the flickering anti-piracy watermark” Master said, as the lights faded in the little screening room. “It’s not that we don’t trust the Film Censor Board of course, but these are the segments we also showed to the critics a few days ago. As I explained on the phone, although this is not the final edit, some early guidance from you at this stage would be hugely beneficial.”

“Well, they must be good” Amy told him. “You are certainly getting rave reviews from those critics.” Amy held Master’s hand as they watched, and soon, like the critics before her, she too was laughing along all a bit too heartily at the jokes, erect nipples becoming all too obvious under her blouse, Bill noticed approvingly.

As the clips started moving past classic Carry On inuendo, into more explicit content, it wasn’t long before Bill felt the first gentle warning squeeze of his hand. Those squeezes quickly becoming ever more rapid and frantic as the scenes moved into clearly unacceptable territory. Despite that, Master could see that Amy was looking increasingly hot and flustered, almost unconsciously opening her legs and unbuttoning one, no two, buttons of her red blouse.

For the first time ever in the job, Amy was finding it hard to maintain her professional composure. She was confused, lightheaded, and positively wet down there. She really needed to just stop the screening and tell the Director that there was no way such a film would ever be approved for general release. But for some reason, she just couldn’t stop watching. Nor could she just carry on, crushing the Black Man’s hand in a permanent vice like grip of disapproval. No, for this film, she needed some new, enhanced way to demonstrate the unacceptable nature of the basically now just interracial porn, playing on the screen.

In horny desperation, Amy released her grip and started vigorously rubbing Master’s hand instead. Yes, that would definitely help communicate her disapproval more. The drawback however, was it meant the tips of her figures began brushing up against the bulge of the Big Black Cock outlined in the Director’s tros. Amy stared at the bulge in horny confusion, desperately trying to think straight about how to make her iring disapproval crystal clear.

She reached for his zipper, her Master’s Big Black Cock spring up like a huge flagpole, her hand masturbating him furiously, Yes, this was the solution. This would definitely let him know that such a hot film probably shouldn’t be seen more widely.

Meanwhile, one of the two Assistant Directors moved around to kneel on the floor in front of her, his head between her black stockinged legs, as he pulled up her skirt and pealed aside her wet panties. “I think he needs to take some more detailed notes” Master said to her, as his tongue flicked over her horny wet slit, causing Amy to moan, eyes rolling back with carnal pleasure.

The other young Black God refugee, on her other side from Master, had pulled down his pants, so that she could now vigorously wank a superior Big Black Cock in both hands, to really show her eager disapproval. I mean, she could totally see why this film would appeal to a female audience. Maybe a limited release for the specific slut market would work. But it was so hard to think straight when the young Assistant Director by her side ripped open her blouse, pulled up her bra, and sucked her sensitive erect nipple, making her eyes roll back again as she moaned once more.

The Black Master eating her out pulled down her panties, and kneeled between her legs, the mighty mushroom head of his Big Black Cock pushing into her welcoming cunt. She gasped as the unbelievably thick shaft slide so deep inside her, just like the submissive white sluts on the screen of the public information film they were watching. Important educational material that everyone really should see.

For a while, Amy is lost in a sea of mindless pleasure. A Big Black Cock fucking her wet cunt, so full and deep, like no little limp white loser ever could, while she sucks alternately on the Black Gods to either side of her face. A slave to the Black New World Order, just as she should be.

The she shifts onto all fours, the Director beneath her, his veiny Big Black Cock fucking her needy cunt, with the two Assistants at either end, one fucking her virgin ass, the other fucking her slut face. Amy understands now that she has been worshiping the wrong type of god for too long, but at least she can start making up for lost time she realises, as warm sticky blessings flood her womb, leak from her gaping ass, and get pumped down her throat.

“I’m sure you’ll want to see all the final edits before g off on release” Bill tells her. “So why don’t I send over one of our Assistant Directors every few days with the latest reels for you to enjoy together.”

“Thank you Master, that would be ideal” Amy replies obediently. “And you know, after you’ve finished the film, I feel sure we would have some special openings here at the Film Censor Board that some of for young staff could fill” she added hornily.

Meanwhile, back at the studios that afternoon, another Assistant Director has been filming a couple more of the plot developing short scenes for editing into the final movie.

In the first, Nurse Juggs is drawing the privacy curtain around Mr Fallow’s bed on the main ward, to a jealous wolf whistle from the Reverand Bonkem opposite, in order to take his routine observations.

“Professor Hardshaft says your figures are looking so good that you and your wife might be ready to attempt insemination in a few days’ time” the bimbo nurse tells the camp comedian. “Well, I’m certainly feeling flushed” Mr Fallow says, somehow managing to look even more effeminate than when he first itted to the hospital.

“The Prof wants to make sure you don’t get over excited before then, and to get you as pent up as possible for your big effort Sweetie” Nurse Juggs continued to explain. “So, he has prescribed that we use this for the next few days in preparation” the bimbo adds, carefully locking Mr Fallow’s tiny limp dicklet into the snug pink chastity cage.

“There you go. I bet that feels so much nicer and safer now doesn’t it Hun” she says. “Oh yes, thank you Nurse” Mr Fallow agrees submissively.

For the other scene filmed that afternoon, the action jumps forward to the morning of the Government Minister’s visit.

Professor Hardshaft and Matron are making an early start in the Prof’s office, keen to ensure everything is ready for the important visitor that afternoon, when Doctor Limpman storms in.

“I told you Doctor, the Professor is too busy with our preparations for the Ministerial visit to see you right now” Matron says cooly. “Well, this simply can’t wait” insists Dr Limpman, suddenly showing a bit of backbone, brandishing a handful of the V-X1 labels and a packet of the hallucinogenic estrogen pills. “I don’t know exactly what fraud is going on here, but I’m sure the Minister will want to hear all about it.”

As he is talking, advancing on the Professor, Matron comes around behind the Doctor, and taking a syringe from her pocket, deftly plunges the needle into Limpman’s neck, and he collapses unconscious to the floor.

“Well, well, looks like we will have a full six bed ward for the Minister after all” Professor Hardshaft says, handing Matron a pink chastity cage and ball gag. “Can we process him in time?” Matron asks. “Better try a direct IV with triple the dose” the Professor suggests, “and use the bed restraints too, just in case. Then if the feminisation hasn’t got him by then, the hallucinogens will ensure the good doctor is away with the fairies for sure.”

“Cut! And that’s a wrap for today” shouts an Assistant Director.

Back from the Censor’s office that evening, and with Babs now busy unlocking and ruining Frankie Monkton, Bill Master has invited the young star, Tom Harpmacher, for a drink in his trailer.

“I’m so glad we could get you for this film Tom” the Producer says, handing the raising star a drink. “I’m a huge fan.”

Tom is a famous teetotaller, but the doctored fizzy water Master hands him will soon help open his mind to new ideas. “Well, I’m grateful for the opportunity, truly I am” Tom says, taking his first sip of his drink. “I can spot a young future star when I see one” Master continues, “and we, the Studio, would love to help you achieve your full potential.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure if Carry On was the right next step for me, but now I am warming to it rapidly” the pretty young heartthrob grinned. “Yes, navigating the career steps minefield successfully can be fraught” agreed Master. “And there is always the next ‘next young thing’ coming up behind you. Only a very lucky, or very determined, few emerge from that talent pool to be true global superstars, but your star looks set fair I think Tom. There’s even talk of a young James Bond I hear, although, full disclosure, I would personally prefer the next James Bond to person of colour myself.”

“I appreciate your honesty” laughed Tom, “but I want to spread my acting wings wider than that. You know as well as I do, that while something like 007 is a great opportunity, it also risks being typecast into an acting cul-de-sac.”

“Well, both I, and BNWO Studios, would love to help keep you out of that career cul-de-sac” said the Producer. “You see, I am determined my Studio reclaims the heyday of British cinema from Hollywood, and to do that we need talent. Talent like you Tom. So, I want to offer you a Studio Contract, like the good old days of Hollywood, but without the good old exploitation. A fair, modern partnership where we your career with at least one movie a year for the next five years, but with the flexibility to do at least one other movie annually elsewhere, just in case 007 does come knocking for example. That way, I reckon we all win.”

“I ire your ambition, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say your unexpected proposal wasn’t at least of interest” said the flattered young actor. “But the devil is often in the detail I find.”

“Of course” replied the movie mogul, “and I wouldn’t dream of pressuring you deciding before you’ve been able to consider my proposal properly. I’ve taken the liberty of putting a copy of the full contract on this tablet for you to consider at your leisure” he said, handing Tom one of the studio’s funny little flickering screens. “You know, I ire your generation of young actors, taking back control by agenting your own careers, and I think we could do great things ing each other. But there is no rush, we’ve got at least another two weeks shooting on this film scheduled, so take your time to decide.”

Tom was indeed curious, and flattered by the offer, excited that this movie, which he hadn’t been sure about doing, might in fact prove his springboard to mega stardom. So, he studied the proposed contract in careful detail later that night, back in his own trailer. But you know what contracts are like, long, tedious and dull. So soon, he found the text on the screen swimming before his tired eyes, in and out of focus. Tom woke in the early hours of the morning, head slummed forward on the little screen, drooling, and he staggered into bed with an inexplicably rock-hard boner.

Despite struggling to read the whole thing, Tom headed back to the Producer’s trailer after filming the next day, determined to sign the Contract with BNWO Studios. In fact, he’d never felt so sure that something was the right thing to do in all his career so far. Naturally, Bill Master was delighted, and they lit cigars to celebrate. The heady aromatic smoke making his head spin.

They’d barely taken the first few puffs, when Bill reached into a desk draw and handed Tom a pair of white socks and a white jockstrap, saying “You’ll be needing these.” Tom looked confused. “Contract clause 96, section 4, paragraph D” the Producer offered by way of explanation, bring up the text on the little screen. ‘Contracted actors will be suitably attired in crisp, clean white underwear to maintain Studio standards’ read the flickering text. It was certainly unorthodox, but then so was this whole contract approach, so Tom wasn’t going to let a little sartorial elegance issue scupper this golden career opportunity.

“How does that feel boi?” the Produce asked Tom, after the young actor had changed into the jockstrap and socks. “Actually, feels amazing Bill” Tom said, already wondering why he had ever bothered with uncomfortable boxers in the first place. The way the jockstrap material cupped his cock and balls seemed to give him a permanent semi-erection. “Please, please, just call me Master” the powerful Black Man smiled. “Yes Master” Tom answered obediently, unexpectedly making his little cock throb harder in the jockstrap.

Tom put his tros back on, and they spent the rest of the evening discussing the Studio’s opportunities for the young heartthrob’s career. The Contract specified that the Studio would offer the actor the choice between at least two movies a year, at least one of which would get made. Currently, Master had outline scripts in development for two movies after Carry On. One for a rather pedestrian James Bond style action spy thriller, the other for a lower budget indie style art house film about the relationship between an older man and a pretty young boy, which raised questions about the line between an irresponsible young man exploring his sexuality and grooming exploitation by an older figure. It was exactly the kind of art film the Sundance Festival would wet their pants over, and surely after that, it would only be a short career step to a Bafta or an Oscar.

“This one, definitely this one” Tom begged the Producer. “Ah, I should warn you that’s attracting a lot of interest” said Master. “But why don’t we try a bit of a read through tomorrow and see how it feels?”

Slightly crestfallen, but determined to bag the part at all costs, Tom studied the draft script on the flickering screen really hard back in his trailer, as well as pouring over the Contract again too. He didn’t want any other unconventional clauses to prevent him getting that movie. It made for a late night, but it helped that the jockstrap was just so super comfortable and arousing. So good in fact, that he kept it on when he finally climbed into bed.

Which might have been a mistake, as Tom awoke to find the jockstrap crusted in cum from where he must have leaked several times in the night. Fortunate the problem was solved by a production runner who had popped a box of six clean white jockstraps off in his trailer at some point, along with a small pack of make-up.

Tom was glad he had done his homework last night, because he had spotted the clause in the Contract which stated that all contracted actors wanting to be considered for read throughs must be both suitably attired, and with light make-up applied, so as not to waste the Studio’s time if any screen tests were also deemed to be needed during the read through.

Tom slipped on the first of the new clean jockstraps, not noticing that each one in the sequence actually got smaller and tighter, designed to cup his semi hard-on, as it quietly sunk back into him with each ing day like slowly deflating balloon. The first application of light eyeliner was more immediately noticeable however, and made him look a bit like Johnny Depp, Tom thought, before then adding a little pink blush tipped him firmly over into femboy territory. But what the hell Tom reasoned, adding some more before heading over the Master’s trailer, after all, if you really wanted the role, you had to be prepared to inhabit the role, and Tom really, really, wanted this part.

He thought his commitment was paying off, as the Producer seemed genuinely please to see Tom properly prepared for his read through, in white socks, jockstrap and camera ready make-up. And the initial read through went well enough that they agreed to continue tomorrow.

It wasn’t until the day after that, that Master voiced his reservations. “There’s no doubt you can ace this part Tom” the Black Man told him. “My concern is the physical side required. This role demands a level of intimate sexual commitment that many actors just wouldn’t be comfortable with, and I think using a body double would destroy the authenticity, artistically speaking.”

“I’m 100% commitment Master” pleaded the distraught femboy, “please, just give me a chance to prove it to you.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s only fair” Master agreed. “I feel scenes 57, 138 and 143 are the crucial ones, so why don’t we begin with the easiest of those, 57, tonight.”

Tom studied the flickering screen to remind himself. Yes, that scene is when the femboi first seduces his older daddy. Not wanting the show any hesitation which Master might misinterpret, Tom gently guided a Big Black Hand onto his straining white jockstrap. “How does that feel boi?” Master asked, as he rubbed Tom’s little pee-pee back and forth inside the jockstrap. “Mmmm, feels so good, amazing” Tom practically purred, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. He didn’t even need to act, it was simply the truth. Master’s big powerful hand stroking his jockstrap was divine, so natural.

Tom gave a load moan, and a wet patch started to appear on the jockstrap as his pathetic cummies leaked through. “Good boi” Master said encouragingly. “Let’s pick up with the next scene tomorrow.”

Back in his own trailer, Tom studied scenes 138 and 143 again carefully. He simply couldn’t fail now. Not when he was this close. He even looked up some similar porn scenes on the internet, to help ensure he got it bang on, and soon found his pathetic little white dicklet was leaking again.

All he could think about the next day, during filming, was proving to Master he could be the sissy slut the part needed him to be. Tom almost ran to Master’s trailer that evening, and without any preamble, he simple knelt before the Black God, reached for his zipper, and began enthusiastically sucking that Big Black Cock. Tom wasn’t gay, bisexual obviously, although he hadn’t ever sucked cock before, but if this little bit of old-fashioned casting couch exploitation was what his career needed, then he was determined enough to prove to his Master he had all the commitment required.

Tom could practically taste the acting awards, as long as those awards were covered in the hot superior Black Cum he was swallowing with gusto, looking Master in the eye and saying “Thank you Daddy.”

The last of the three controversial scenes, 143, at the climax of the draft script, demanded raw, visceral Oscar level acting to successfully portray the shocking, physical emasculation of the twink, challenging audience perceptions of exactly who was using who all along. Tom had again fallen asleep, reading and rereading the lines, but he woke the next morning with a light bulb moment idea of how he could bag the role with 100% certainty. There was no doubt in his mind as he headed over to the Props Department, before Carry On filming started, to get what he needed for the evening run through with Master.

In Master’s trailer, Tom hardly even needed to pull aside his little white jockstrap to show the Black Master that the all too obvious, sharp, hard angular shape clearly beneath the material was because, like the film character, he too was locked in chastity. No stunt double needed, just his own full commitment to the role.

Following the script, the caged, emasculated femboi crawled under Master’s desk and began obediently sucking his superior Big Black Cock. Once his eager, worshiping mouth had got the Big Black Cock fully hard and erect, Tom wondered how long it would be before the Black God pulled him up and pushing him back on the desk, fucked his virgin sissy pussy. His useless locked clitty would flop back and forth, showing just how amazingly superior Big Black Cock truly was.

But that happy thought of total submission to Big Black Cock was interrupted by a sudden knock on the trailer door. Master pulled Tom’s head off his dick, and the sissy sat obediently under the desk, while a studio runner came in to hand Master a package that had just arrived for him by courier.

The package was stamped as coming from the offices of the Film Censor Board. The Producer opened it with eager anticipation. It was indeed from the thoroughly Blacked slut, Amy Watkin, her signature fresh on a certificate ing the new Carry On film for general release, with what he thought was probably a cum stain on the corner of the paperwork.

Master smiled broadly and lit himself a cigar to celebrate and savour his most satisfactory success. Yes, with all obstacles now overcome, this new Carry On film was guaranteed to be a big, big hit for BNWO Studios. In fact, it wouldn’t just be a big hit, it would change society for ever.

He turned his attention back to Tom Harpmacher, the latest example of that pending new Blacked dawn, still sat under the desk between his legs. The young heartthrob, turned Big Black Cock loving sissy femboi, looking up at his new Master with puppy dog eyes, waiting obediently to be told he could return to sucking his bone.

The powerful Black Man exhaled, blowing cigar smoke down into the actor’s sissy face, and still smiling broadly said “Carry on twink.”