Collared: A Mind Deviancy Story

Evelyn slid through the shelves of the Shop of Lost Things. On the other sides of the infinite shelves, she could hear her past or perhaps her future selves speaking with other lost souls. A few of the humans would slip out, finding the better part of themselves to guide them back to the path of righteousness or boringness or whatever it was humans valued. Most, though, would leave with a gift. A trinket with the power to warp reality and give the mortal whatever their twisted thoughts desired.

All in all, it wasn’t a terrible place to be trapped for one of the Deviancies. Evelyn considered it a grand upgrade from her last prison, suspended in a two dimensional void in a slice of reality between the pages of a magical tome. In that place, time passed in the normal way, the human way, minutes following other minutes, hours remaining stubbornly consecutive. A few hundred more years and Evelyn would have considered herself in danger of going truly insane. She didn’t know what would happen to her without the relative stability of her own thoughts, but she doubted it would go over well with reality.

She turned a corner and looked at a different version of herself through a stack of books. What did he want? Oh, that’s right. To knock up his wife. Hmm, that ring will knock up half his neighborhood if he’s not careful. She looked at the man’s clothes and at her previous self’s as well. When was this? Thirty years ago? Thirty minutes? She frowned. The trouble with experiencing time in a non-linear fashion was making any real progress toward a goal. Evelyn was no closer to escaping her trap than she had been when she gave away a ring to Peter. She turned away from the scene and walked down another of the endless aisles. If I lost myself, then I should be able to find myself, she thought for either the first or fiftieth time.

As she rounded a corner, she heard a small ding. It came from a service bell affixed to a large, oak desk sat right in the middle of the store. More surprisingly, a man sat on the opposite side of it looking particularly uncomfortable in a high backed ornate chair. Realizing he could see her, Evelyn smiled and slithered toward him, pouring herself into the chair opposite. “Hello there,” she cooed.

“Yes, is this the lost and found?” he asked.

Evelyn laughed. “In a way, yes. What have you lost?”

The man turned red in the face. From the bursts of small black stars around his body, Evelyn could tell he had been waiting a while. His frustration seethed out of his pours like little launched fireworks. She didn’t care about those, though. The gloopy ooze running out of his ears and nose is what surprised her. She’d not seen anyone so bursting with illicit desires since her escape from the book. Usually, she had to root around in their heads to find what brought them into her slice of reality, but not this one. His thoughts hung out from his head like oversize water droplets containing film screens of tawdry desire. The biggest of these scenes showed nothing sexual, but simply a family sitting quietly at dinner listening to the man speak. The desire for the family’s silence was emphasized by little mute symbols stitched onto their lips. “My keys,” he said with a huff.

Evelyn leaned forward on the table. “You lost your keys and wound up here?” She failed to suppress a giggle, despite seeing the man’s frustration actually grow. “What’s your name?”

“Not sure how that’s relevant. If you found a set of keys, then I’d like to claim them, if not…” He sighed and slumped his shoulders. “Elliot Matthews.”

Evelyn didn’t know humans could reach a point of such utter defeat. She’d seen cities burn to the ground and the defeated party still retained some modicum of self worth. Elliot Matthews had nothing except burdens. Evelyn saw a family behind all of it. Knocked up a high school sweetheart. Surprise, she’s having twins. Not even old enough to drink and having to work to support a wife and two children. No one helped. The wife, Marie, was disowned by her family. Elliot’s own family came from nothing and went back to nothing sooner than expected. Yet, he managed. Somehow through an onslaught of difficulties, he provided well for his family. For all his trouble, he was resented.

His wife cheated on him. Marie played the role of the lonely housewife for a neighbor friend who offered her the one thing Elliot couldn’t manage — time together. Elliot slaved away at work while his wife took it up the ass from the guy down the street. When Elliot found out, what could he do other than accept it? He argued with Marie, but he couldn’t leave his family. Well, he could, but that wasn’t something Elliot understood. Evelyn did, though. She saw the bitter irony of each of Elliot’s choices. He chose to stay with a wife that didn’t love him to preserve the idea of a loving home for two children who didn’t give a shit about him.

The daughter, Joy, defied her father at every turn. Don’t get a belly button piecing, he’d say, and a week later she’d pull up her shirt at breakfast to show the welt of a fresh piecing. Anything her father commanded became a near guarantee of coming to pass. It amused Evelyn to see how prophetic Elliot was with Joy’s actions while not at all realizing the actual effect he had on her. Even in the moment, waiting for his keys, he believed he could still control her. Meanwhile, at eighteen, she was as free as she’d ever been.

Her brother, Asher, fared a little better in the family dynamic. He at least wanted to respect his father. Yet somehow, the sacrifices of working endless hours to provide for them fell flat in comparison to being a cuckold. Asher found out about the affair before his father. The son expected something dramatic, to see some fight in his father for the first time. Instead, Elliot cowed his own happiness for the sake of preserving an illusion. Asher lost the last shred of respect he held for his father. Now, the boy fancied himself as master of the house, expecting his father to be thrown out by Marie as soon as the kids left for college in the fall. Elliot knew it, too. They’d used him for all they needed, and he could be discarded as a relic of a false life.

And he thinks he only lost his keys. Evelyn folded her arms and let her eyes glitter as she peered at the pathetic creature across from her. “Where did you lose them?”

“I left them on a tray in the food court,” he answered. “I got up to get some more napkins, and they bussed my tray. I was clearly not finished eating, but they took it anyway. My half a slice of pizza went, too, but I just want my keys back. They told me anything they find gets stuck in the lost and found box. Now, can you tell me if you had some keys turned in? This shouldn’t require such a long wait.”

“Fair enough,” Evelyn said. She looked at the desk and noticed a drawer on her side. Pulling it open, she found a set of keys and a studded collar. “Oh, here they are.” The keys jangled together as she lifted them out with one finger. With her other hand, she brought out the collar, letting it dangle from the tip of her spindly finger. “Also found this, which means it must be for you.”

“A collar? I didn’t lose a collar.” Elliot made an awkward shift to reach for his keys, but hesitated and stopped. Evelyn could see the realization come across his face. Taking something from her always came with a price, even if it was something which belonged to the taker. “If you could return my keys, I’ll be on my way.”

Evelyn flicked her hand, and the keys zipped over to Elliot. He fumbled to catch them. “This collar,” Evelyn said, “belonged to Agristus of Crete. As the story goes, Agristus came from a wealthy house which had fallen into disarray due to the slovenly behavior of his uncles and sons. Agristus somehow found his way into the underworld to beseech a boon from his ancestors. Instead, he came across the great hound Cerberus locked in combat with a demigod, Hercules or Pericles or one of those pompous oafs. Agristus watched the battle unfold from a hiding spot nearby. The hound was wounded, allowing the demigod to proceed into the underworld on some quest which didn’t involve lesser mortals. Agristus took pity on the great beast and tended the three headed dog’s wounds, dutifully. The Lord of the Dead found a living mortal working to restore his guard dog to health and decided to grant him a gift. Hades took the collar off the neck of the middle head and gave it to Agristus. ‘Use this, and command you household to order.’ With the collar in hand, Agristus returned to his home and found that his uncles and sons did exactly what he told them to do. No matter what it was.”

Elliot frowned at her, but he’d made no move to leave, despite having regained his keys. “What a silly story. Did you make that up?”

“No,” she answered with a frown. “Who do you think made the collar in the first place? What would you do, Elliot? If you had the power to finally control your family?” She could see exactly what he would do. The thoughts bubbled out of his head like a foaming volcano model.

He snatched the collar from her finger, clutching it tightly in his hand. As soon as he took it, a look of pain and fear passed over his face. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Power is hard to resist,” Evelyn said. “Be mindful, though. The Greek pantheon rarely gave gifts that didn’t come with strings. I would tell you to use the power sparingly, but then it wouldn’t be very fun, would it?” She tapped the bell on the desk, cutting the air with a sharp ringing as Elliot fumbled to his feet and walked quickly through the shelves toward an exit.

Evelyn sat at the table for a while longer, wondering if it would vanish into the shop the second she looked away. She considered staying seated instead of returning to her wandering. Looking didn’t seem to be helping her find an exit, maybe if she sat still one would find her. For that to happen, someone would have to lose an exit. Amused at the thought, Evelyn hopped to her feet, twirled on the spot, and set off in the opposite direction of Elliot.


Elliot raced home with a feeling of humiliated panic burning in his chest. The woman at the lost and found had been insane, but he’d bought into her insanity. Something about her eyes convinced him she was telling the truth. When he took the collar, he fully believed it to be a relic of an ancient god, but once he got to his car, he realized he’d snatched a cheap bit of leather and metal probably taken off some goth girl. He didn’t understand what had come over him. It was her fault, not mine. She did something to me. He had no idea of what or why the strange woman would have done something to him. He simply needed an excuse for his own erratic behavior.

The collar laid in the passenger’s seat beside his other shopping. He’d gone to the near derelict mall to buy a new polo shirt for work. As he pulled into the garage, he almost decided to leave the collar behind, or even to throw it in the bins on his way inside. When he touched it, a compulsion to keep it overtook him, driving out any thought of leaving it behind. Wrapping it around his hand, he went into the house.

His children sat in the living room. Asher had his nose in a book and didn’t look up at his father. Joy sat in a nearby armchair gazing at her phone while smacking a piece of gum. She did look up at Elliot if only to sneer, roll her eyes, and immediately text a friend about how stupid her loser father looked. Normally, Elliot would have made an effort to appeal to his children with a greeting, at least. Sometimes, Asher would even say something back. At the moment, Elliot simply averted his gaze, clutched the collar tighter in his hand, and made his way to the back of the house.

Marie was half dressed when he entered the master bedroom. Not his bedroom, of course. Marie had banished him to the guest bedroom a while back, though Elliot attempted to believe it was his choice. Still, he kept his clothes and things in the master for the purposes of appearances. Finding his wife in a pink thong and bra surprised him until he remembered it certainly wasn’t for his sake. “What are you doing?” she hissed at him, grabbing a bathrobe to cover herself.

Elliot dumbly held up the bag with his new shirt in it. “Putting this away. What are you getting dressed for?”

“I’m going out,” she said, working as much scorn into the words as she could. “With Marcus.”

The color drained out of Elliot’s face. The collar seemed to wriggle in his hand as his mind raced. “You…you’re going on a date? You’re my wife…”

Marie laughed. “A date? Maybe he’ll buy me a few drinks before we go back to his place. You think I’m wearing this for your benefit?” She continued giggling to herself as she went into her closet.

Elliot spluttered with an incoherent rage and frustration. He wanted to scream and yell and perhaps something worse, but it all fizzled into a few syllables of quiet curses. Shaking, he stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. With our kids in the house. Doesn’t tell me she’s leaving me. Doesn’t tell me she wants a divorce. Tells me she’s going to fuck Marcus. Tells me she got dressed up for Marcus. Fucking bitch. Fucking BITCH! “Ow!” Elliot yelped and dropped the collar. It had burned him, he was sure of it. It fell into the bathroom sink, looking like nothing more than a bit of old leather with a buckle. Curious he prodded it with one finger. Cool, dull leather, that’s all. “The power to control my family,” he whispered as he picked up the cursed thing. “She didn’t say how it worked.” Elliot felt as though reality was slipping away from him by the second. Holding up the collar in front of himself in the mirror, he came to the obvious conclusion. It’s a collar, after all. He brought it up to his neck, wrapped it around, and fastened it tight.

He tried to scream, but only a plume of ash escaped his lips. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as the collar pulled tight around Elliot’s neck, charring his skin into a cracked, stone gray. Panicked, he grabbed at the collar, but it only pulled tighter against his skin. He gulped for air, expecting himself to be strangled, but he found that it didn’t change his breathing at all. The pain subsided as he got a grip on himself. He looked at the damage in the mirror, examining the edge of the collar sinking into his changed skin. Prodding it no longer hurt. After a few moments, other than the changed skin, it was like nothing had happened at all.

Marie banged on the door. “What the fuck are you doing in there? Jerking off because you got to see me in my underwear. Stop being so fucking pathetic and get out. I need to finish getting dressed.”

Reacting, Elliot yanked open the door. His wife had enough time to register the collar and deformation on her husband before he shouted at her. “You’re such a fucking bitch, you know that?” The words thudded into Marie like stones, sending her staggering back. Her face fell slack and her head tilted. She dropped to her knees, spreading out her legs until her ass gently touched the ground. Elliot looked at his wife, prostrate before him, the small, pink bra struggling to contain her breasts. “What are you doing?”

“I…don’t know. What did you do to me?” she mumbled as she rubbed her hands up and down her thighs. Her eyes drifted between a hazy absence and an accusatory glare. “Did you drug me?”

“What? No. I haven’t touched you.” The collar tingled around Elliot’s neck. For the first time in years, he felt powerful. He loomed over Marie, drinking in the vision of her kneeling before him. “You just like getting on your knees so much that you’ve finally done it for your husband. Maybe to fucking beg for my forgiveness.”

“Is that what you want?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Something is wrong. I don’t know what to do, Elliot. Tell me what to do?”

Elliot laughed. “Tell you?” The collar twinged against his skin once again. A cold feeling settled in his stomach as he understood. Curious, he said, “Take off your bra.”

Marie smiled with relief. Her hands moved to the clasp and unfastened the bra, letting it drop off her shoulders. Her big tits fell into view, drooping against her chest. “Is that good, Elliot?”

“Yes, that’s good,” he agreed, fascinated by her obedience. “You don’t get to use my name,” he said, remembering the cruelty in her voice earlier. “You can call me master.” The command clearly gave his wife a wave of pleasure as she bit her lip and smiled, her hands moving up to squeeze her breasts. Elliot squatted down in front of her and took one of her tits in his hand, roughly pawing it while she gazed at him. “Amazing,” he said. “Complete control. I bet you wish you weren’t such a bitch to me now, huh? Go ahead, tell me what you really think.”

The look of euphoria vanished, “What the fuck are you doing to me, you asshole? It’s like there’s a fucking hand in my head. This is the last straw, you know. I’m going to leave you, and you’ll be lucky if Marcus doesn’t beat the shit out of you.”

“That’s enough,” Elliot said. “Guess you’re still a bitch. And bitches can’t talk, can they? They can only obey their masters.”

Marie opened her mouth again, but only made a small squeak.

A thrill went through Elliot. His hands moved to his pants, unbuttoning them as he kicked off his shoes. He glanced at the bedroom door, making sure it was shut. Marie watched with vague fascination as her master stripped down to his boxers. Despite the conflicting thoughts in her mind, her mouth watered as she thought of Elliot’s cock in her mouth. She wanted to tell him how much her tits ached to be touched and how wet she was becoming from being so controlled, but she knew what sound she would make if she tried to speak again. The resentful part of her refused to give Elliot the satisfaction. That part of her shrank a little more as he pulled his dick over the band of his boxers and let it hang in front of her.

“Suck my dick, Marie,” he said. Happily, she obeyed. She slurped his cock into her mouth, humming with pleasure as her lips closed around his shaft. Elliot laughed with disbelief as his wife obediently sucked him off. She’d never been keen on blowjobs in the first place, but hadn’t touched his dick since he found out she was cheating. Does this only work on her? Or my family…what about Marcus? What about everyone else? Could I make anyone suck my dick? He glanced at the door again, wicked thoughts seeping into his mind as his wife’s tongue slithered along the underside of his cock. “Have to say,” he mused, stroking her hair as she bobbed back and forth on his dick, “I missed this. You love sucking me off. It makes cum. As soon as I cum in your mouth, your pussy clenches. Isn’t that right.”

Marie doubled her efforts. Elliot’s words pushed into her thoughts like worms wriggling up through the soil. She tried to fixate on the memories of being with her husband, the dissatisfaction and contempt, but those emotions faded away, pushed aside by the wriggling thoughts of lust and devotion. She moaned around the throbbing dick in her mouth. Elliot stopped talking. His thighs tensed, and his grip tightened on the back of her head. As the tip of his cock pushed against the back of her throat, he thrust forward, almost making her gag. Her hands moved up to squeeze his balls. It pushed him over the edge. Hot cum sprayed into Marie’s mouth, and Elliot’s words came true. Her pussy spasmed with orgasm as her mouth filled up with his spunk. She couldn’t swallow it all before her orgasm made her pull away with a yipping moan. Elliot’s cock continued to erupt, spraying cum across his wife’s face as the first waves of his load oozed out of her lips.

Elliot admired the sight of his wife. “Finally in your place, Marie,” he said, bitterly. Despite emptying himself into her mouth, his cock had not subsided. Looking down, he was surprised to see a bigger dick than he remembered. It also felt strange near the base. He stroked himself, mingling the ooze of his cum with his wife’s saliva. He was still incredibly horny. He patted his wife’s head, not noticing the sudden thickness of her hair. “You’re a good bitch, but I’m supposed to get the family in order, not just you. Come on, let’s go straighten out our daughter.”


The collar itched around his neck as Elliot opened the bedroom door and ordered his wife to crawl down the hall. It’s only right. They need to obey. They need to respect their father. They need to be controlled. Marie’s broad ass wobbled from side to side as she moved down the hall. She was much more hesitant than her husband, but had no power to disobey his orders. As much as it made her inside knot and wriggle, she knew that Asher and Joy would see her crawling topless into the living room with a face wet with their father’s cum. They will finally respect me, Elliot thought. They’ll learn. They’ll learn just like their mother.

They turned the corner into the living room. Before either Asher or Joy looked up, Elliot could see a vague preoccupation on their faces. He understood little about the collar, but did at least know that it was affecting his thoughts. Elliot didn’t know how much it was affecting those around him as well. Asher’s efforts to read had been interrupted by insistent thoughts of sex. Not uncommon for an eighteen year old, but the thoughts startled him with their sudden prevalence in his mind. He shifted in his seat to hide the growing erection from his sister. Joy, meanwhile, had drifted out of the various text conversations with her friends and into porn websites. She pulled up videos of women getting as many cocks as they could handle while her brother sat only a few feet away. Joy wondered if he would notice her if she slipped a hand in her shorts. The sight of their parents broke the strange spell, causing both of them to gasp. “Oh, what the fuck are you doing?” Joy said, snatching her hand away from her crotch and closing out her phone.

Asher’s gaze flipped from his mother to Elliot and back. He knew he should be repulsed, but Marie looked different. For one, she was on her hands and knees with a pair of fat tits swinging beneath her. She had a new slenderness to her, brighter eyes, and a thick, almost shaggy head of hair. Looking at Asher, she instinctively wiggled her ass in the air behind her, aching for a cock to be inside of her. The movement earned her a hard slap from Elliot as he strode into the room, as brazenly naked as his spouse. “You won’t speak to me in that tone any more, young lady,” he snapped at Joy.

“What’s happening, Mom?” Asher mumbled, using the book to cover his painful erection.

“Don’t ask her,” Elliot said. “She’s a bitch who can’t talk. I’m in charge of this house now. You will obey me.”

“Like hell we will,” Joy said in a strangely pleasant tone. She stood up and crossed her arms. The shorts rode up her ass, letting one of her butt cheeks hang out. She also wore a cutoff shirt that put the rebellious belly button piercing on full display. She stomped her foot down as dramatically as possible and glared at her father.

Cruelness coiled inside of his head as the collar burned once more. “Want to act like a little slut?” he hissed. “Parading around with your skimpy clothes and tight little ass, teasing all the boys. Training to be just like your whore mother, huh? Alright then. You are a slut. A slutty girl with big titties and a fat ass who gets soaking wet for her daddy’s cock.”

The words filled the room like the rumble of thunder. Asher’s horror pushed back his horniness for long enough for him to rise in defense of his sister. His virtue crumbled as Joy’s knees buckled. She dropped to the floor as her meager breasts swelled forward, straining against her shirt. The round bottoms of the growing orbs sagged out from the cut off shirt. Joy’s mouth lolled open as she stared at Elliot’s stiff dick. Her butt grew as quickly as her tits, becoming a deliciously thick rump that ripped through her shorts with ease. As she pulled away the shredded garment, the other three all saw Joy’s pussy dripping with arousal as she mewled.

A greedy smile on his face, Elliot walked over and knelt down behind his daughter. She pulled her ass apart for him as his thick cock pushed into her with ease. Joy groaned with appreciation as her body shook with a small orgasm. Her tight pussy wrapped around him, and Elliot considered that his daughter might have been a virgin after all. He grabbed her hips and yanked her hard against his cock, eager to have her tightness around the peculiar feeling at the root of his dick. His balls slapped against her wet lips as she squealed. Elliot glanced at his son who stood dumbfounded on the other side of the coffee table. “What about you, Asher? Are you ready to be a good son?”

Asher swallowed the hard knot in his throat. “Yes,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

“Good, you can take care of the family bitch,” Elliot said before giving Joy’s fat ass a hard slap.

Marie’s face brightened as she bounded over to her son. She nearly pounced on him as she pushed him back onto the sofa. With quick work, Marie fished out her son’s dick and lapped up and down its length. With his mother’s swollen tits pressed against his thighs, Asher struggled to not cum immediately. He managed to resist the compulsion of magic in the air for a few minutes before finally gripping his mother’s head and shoving her onto his dick. She groaned happily as the head of his dick pushed into her throat. She sucked and slithered her tongue along his length as he pumped hot cum into her throat. When she pulled him out, he remained rock hard. The two looked at one another and saw no familial bond remaining, only a perverse need to fuck.

Elliot watched his son’s will break with a sadistic glee. Asher threw Marie onto the couch and pulled down her soaked thong before shoving his virile cock into her pussy. It was enough to send Elliot over the edge again. He pressed his body into the softness of Joy’s backside as his balls emptied into her. She gurgled and squeaked with pleasure, incoherent in her ecstasy. Elliot’s thumbs pressed into the soft flesh of her ass as he considered how the collar not only controlled minds, but forms as well. With the last spurt of his orgasm, the odd feeling at the base of his dick grew fifty times over. He groaned as the sensitive skin pressed against his daughter’s supple flesh.

With a tearing feeling, a bud of flesh erupted from the base of his dick. He howled in pain and surprise as the collar burned once again. The nub grew rapidly. A second cock. The second head. Achingly stiff, the second phallus stood up over his original cock. Both of them oozed precum as Joy remained on her knees in front of him, cum dripping out of her pussy. As his second cock reached its full length, it erupted, sending ropes of thick cum to cover his daughter’s ass. With a mad laugh, he grabbed her hips, positioned his original cock at her pussy and wedged the second against her asshole. He pushed forward, filling up both of her holes in one thrust.

Across the room, Asher hunched against his mother’s curved ass, enjoying the feeling of her rubbing back against him. His hands groped around to feel her breasts, but drifted lower, wanting to press against her stomach. Instead, he found small nubs along the length of her belly. As he flicked his fingers across them, Marie let out an actual bark. Concern or horror failed to overcome the feeling of her tight pussy milking Asher’s cock. He kept fucking her as he felt a small bit of fur brush against his stomach. Asher did look over at his father who only grinned in response. “I did say she was a bitch. Don’t worry. I don’t think she’ll go full dog. But let that be a lesson to both of you. It can always be worse.” Elliot grunted, emptying both cocks into his daughter’s holes. He pulled out, letting both slap against Joy’s ass. “In fact, once you finish fucking some sense into Marie, clean them up. We’re going to go pay Marcus a visit. Understand?”

Asher gritted his teeth, despite it all, seeing his father with power actually made an ember of respect return. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” Elliot taunted, pushing his fingers into Joy’s stretched holes. The collar glowed red hot around his neck.

“Yes, sir?”

“Close enough.”