The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I injected the nanobots into my butt, and I had one hour of normal life. Then I started to feel achy. By six hours after injection, I was feeling the tortures of the damned.

The nanobots were building up my muscles, so my muscles all hurt now; even muscles in the back of my hands hurt. To support bigger muscles, the nanobots were retooling my skeleton—so now my bones felt like I’d been thrown off a skyscraper and survived. My eyeballs hurt, my underarms hurt, my dick hurt, and I felt always like someone had drop-kicked my balls. I had a pounding headache. Using the bathroom was agony.

My hair didn’t hurt and my ears didn’t hurt, and that was the only good news.

Sometime around the time that Jeri and Annika had graduated from stewardess school, Stephanie and I had moved into a three-bedroom house. Mom thought I was contracting computer jobs to pay Stephanie’s rent as well as my own—but the fact was, I owned the house outright. Somehow Linda had found a way to pay cash for the house, and yet keep me below the radar. So since I no longer lived with my mother, Mom at first didn’t know about my self-inflicted torture and suffering.

Three days after injecting the nanobots, I still felt like shit. I missed Sunday-afternoon dinner with Mom and David, and so Stephanie had to tell Mom that I was “ill.” Mom then insisted on coming to my house and visiting me in my sickbed. If it weren’t for anti-tachyon Club communication, I would have been completely surprised when Mom and David walked into my bedroom.

I should have figured on this. After all, what mother schedules an appointment to visit her sick son? But Mom’s unplanned visit created a problem: how to explain all the bimborg units in the house. The one other time that Mom had been in my house, the only residents there had been Stephanie and I. But now, Kumiko, Alice-37, and Bethany-62 were in my bedroom, acting as caregivers and fetchers.

Unfortunately, I was too distracted by pain to invent a clever plan, beyond telling the bimborg units to put all the air mattresses in the garage. I would just have to wing it when my mother arrived.

No sooner had the air mattresses been hidden but Stephanie, Mom, and David walked into my house, and the three of them headed straight for my bedroom.

As soon as I saw them, I said, “Stop, David isn’t allowed here. It’s bad enough, Mom, that you have to see me sick like this, but there’s no need for him to be here.”

They kept coming. Mom said, “Nonsense, Jimmy, you know David’s a good friend...”

Mom and David got about halfway across my bedroom when things changed. David slowed down, then stopped; while Mom inhaled deeply.

Suddenly David looked nervous. “Ellen, Jimmy is right. It isn’t my place to be here.”

I looked at him and said, “Your name isn’t ‘Davey,’ is it? Well, my name isn’t ‘Jimmy.’ For the one-millionth time, David: Call me ‘James.’”

“I will, I promise,” David said. “Sorry to intrude, James. I’m gone.”

Mom looked at David and said, “Do you mind waiting somewhere else, hon? I should have realized, James does deserve his privacy.”

I thought, I’ve asked Mom for years and years to call me “James.” How interesting that just now she finally calls me by the right name. Aloud I said, “Bethany, take David into the living room and then bring him a glass of Coke, easy ice. Then come back here.”

“Gotcha, James,” Bethany said, and she walked David out of the room. I saw Mom’s eyebrows shoot up, since Stephanie was standing three feet away.

Again, Mom inhaled deeply. “James, why are you wearing men’s cologne when you’re sick in bed?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“I’m asking because you smell good. Don’t you agree, Stephanie?”

Stephanie was looking at me, her look asking How do I play this? When I didn’t speak up, Stephanie said, “You’re right, Ellen. James smells, uh, musky.”

Mom continued, “Whatever you’re wearing, James, it’s subtle but effective. I’d enjoy getting some for David for Christmas.”

I said, “Well, Mom, I can’t help you. A bunch of us were goofing around a few days ago, and Debbie rubbed something on me. She said she’d gotten it at a garage sale. But I don’t think I smell good, because I haven’t showered or bathed in three days.”

Mom inhaled deeply again. “Yes, you certain smell strong...I’m sorry, what was I talking about?” Mom’s face and throat, I noticed, were turning pink.

Danger, incest alert! I thought. Aloud I said, “You were about to go check on David, see if he’s getting lonely.”

She nodded her head. “Yes, I must go check on David.” Then she added, a purr in her voice, “I mustn’t let him get lonely.” Mom sashayed out of my bedroom.

Mom returned a few minutes later, looking unhappy. I asked, “What’s wrong?”

She frowned. “You’d think that with all the beautiful women in this house—not to mention, I practically—oh, never mind.”

When Mom had walked in my bedroom again, Stephanie, Bethany, Alice, and Kumiko had been rubbing isopropyl alcohol on me, trying to reduce my persistent fever. Now Mom eyed them, then said to me, “James, can we be alone? I need to ask you something.”

“Sure, Mom,” I said. I looked at my later-added bimborg units and said, “Scram for now, but be where you can hear me call you back in.” Alice, Kumiko, and Bethany smiled at me, then walked out.

Mom looked at me, suddenly nervous, and said, “Do you mind if Stephanie leaves too?”

I waved Stephanie out of the room, then turned to look at Mom. Who seemed now even more nervous.

Twisting her hands together, Mom asked, “What is your relationship with those other girls? And what does Stephanie think about it?”

“Mom, why does it matter what Stephanie thinks?”

Mom looked shocked. “Why? Because she’s the one who—look, if you’re not nice—Stephanie is good-looking enough that she doesn’t have to put up with nonsense.”

“So you think that Stephanie decides when and how I get sex, and if I don’t treat her like a princess, I sleep on the couch?”

“Duh! You’re how old, and you don’t know how things work?”

“Mom, look me in the eyes and tell me that you 100 percent believe this. That a harem can’t possibly work.”

Mom dropped her gaze. “I—this morning I would have said, ‘What I’m telling you is obvious.’ But here, now”—Mom inhaled deeply again—“what you have with these girls seems natural.”

“You’re right, Mom. In this house, I decide when I get sex, and Stephanie and the other girls oblige me.”

Mom nodded, as if this all were normal and reasonable.

I added, “Not at the moment, because I really am sicker than a dog. But if I ever sleep on the couch again, it will be only because I passed out after a two-hour blowjob.”

Mom said nothing after that. I called all four girls back in, and they ministered to me (in G-rated ways) as Mom held my hand. When Mom walked out of my bedroom to go home, she looked thoughtful.

Sunday a week later, I was (barely) recovered enough to make the five-minute trip to Mom’s house for Sunday dinner. I didn’t make a big thing of it, but if somehow I found myself alone with Mom for even a few seconds, Stephanie would “accidentally” walk in just then. After all, being an Alpha Male isn’t only about bedding lust-crazed women and about intimidating men, it also means fending off your pheromone-maddened mother without hurting her feelings. With great penis comes great responsibility. Thank god I didn’t have a sister, DD-bra’d or otherwise.

During that Sunday dinner, I noticed that Mom (when she wasn’t trying to get me alone) was more affectionate with David than I’d ever seen her before. David, however, was like a mannequin. Whenever I spoke to David, he hunched his shoulders.

The following Friday, which was slightly over two weeks after I’d given myself the Alpha Male-making nanobots, I was fully recovered. In fact, I felt like a caged tiger. Now my pants were too tight in the legs, my shirts were too tight in the chest and arms, and I also now had a longer and thicker cock.

Oh yeah, James Upton was now an Alpha Male, and it was time to test-drive the pheromones!