Detention (mm hypno oral anal inc hs)
Synopsis: Five football jocks spend their Saturday morning at detention.
The following story is a work of fiction. The characters portrayed within are a work of fiction as well, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is a coincidence and unintentional.
Copyright © 2008. This story is the property of the author, O'Melissokomos. Any duplication, in whole or in part, is forbidden without the express written consent of the author.
Visit The Bee Keeper's Hive: http://www.pridesites.com/omelissokomos/
Samuel Andrews slammed his fist against the metal lockers, and the angry clang echoed across the empty hallways of his high school. He was on his way to detention during a Saturday morning no less, and he couldn't believe Mrs. Stevens had the nerve to give him--the football team captain and star quarterback--a weekend's worth of it just because she got pissed off at him and his friends during their Geometry class yesterday afternoon. To make matters worse, she slapped the same punishment on them too, and now all five of them would be missing the most important practice sessions of the season.
"So what if we weren't listening to her?" he huffed. "She was full of bullshit anyway. No way an isosceles triangle's gonna help us win next week's homecoming game. What's the whole fucking point?" Sam dragged himself across the hallways on his way to Audio-Visual Studio, the room he was supposed to report to.
When he got there, he opened the door, stuck his head inside and saw that the rest of his friends were already there: Tim and Tom Trevor, the safety twins, wide receiver Chris Jones and his best friend, defensive back Brian Langkowski.
Sam looked around and saw someone standing near the blackboard setting up the projection screen. The man turned his head when he heard the door open.
"Ah, it seems that Mr. Andrews has finally decided to join us. Don't stand just there gawking, Samuel. Come in and take your seat while I finish this."
"Yes, Dr. Reynolds," mumbled Sam, briefly wondering why the school counselor was the one there supervising them. He went inside and chose the seat beside Christopher's. The five seniors were now assembled and started talking amongst themselves.
First there were twin studs who were frighteningly identical in almost every way: both 6' tall, weighing in at about 210 pounds of solid muscle. They were handsome as hell, but dull as doorposts. Still, Tim and Tom were devastating on the field; they seemed to be able to read each other's minds and anticipate each other's moves.
Next there were the best friends, Brian and Chris. Brian, who was famous for his unstoppable blitzes, was built like a brick house and hit like a brickbat. At 6'6", 254 pounds, he was just big everywhere: his neck, his arms, his hands, his feet, even his ears. If the guys needed someone on the opposing team utterly demolished, the junior juggernaut was the joe for the job. Chris, on the other hand, was made for speed. His long, powerful legs have carried his team to many a victory with his untouchable touchdowns. His lithe body was like a steel spring ready to explosively uncoil at a moment's notice.
And finally there was Sam, who decided four years ago that he'd be leading the school to the state championships. From then, he faithfully followed an all-natural workout regimen that transformed his freshman physique from a puny 120 lbs. skeleton to his current 195 lbs. frame of rock-hard, cut, senior student muscle. Even with his jacket on, Sam's powerful body strongly asserted itself underneath. There was no hiding his beautiful build. This man-boy was all jock and truly a breathtaking sight.
Dr. Reynolds locked the screen into place and turned around to face the nearly-empty room. "Now everyone, settle down. Before anything else, I wish to announce that there will be a slight change with the way you will be serving detention today. With your big game against St. Mary's--and in deference to the requests of Principal Phillips and Coach Henderson, who say the team can't afford to miss any practice sessions without the five of you all at once--Mrs. Stevens has agreed to postpone the rest of detention for next Saturday but insisted you spend a morning's worth with me before your practice this afternoon."
Sam fidgeted on his seat and thought, 'Lecture all you want, you prissy asshole. When I get out of here, I'm gonna find a way to get back at that bitch but good. When we're through with her, she's gonna wish she quit her job instead of sending us here.'
Dr. Reynolds continued, "I hope you'll take this opportunity to reflect on what your behavior in Mrs. Stevens' class. I assure you your conduct was definitely not befitting of what's expected of the gentlemen graduating this fine institution. In light of that, I have decided that we'll spending this morning learning something special." With that, he switched off the lights, walked to the back of the room and started a film projector.
Perplexed, Sam asked Brian, "Do you know what this is about?" The 6'6" giant scrunched up his shoulders and shook his head to indicate his own cluelessness.
In the darkened room, all eyes were trained on the screen while the projector warmed up. After a few seconds, the words gradually came into focus: "All about Discipline."
"What crap is this?" Sam loudly whispered to Chris.
"Whoo boy," Chris giggled. The twins snorted in joint mockery.
"Sshhh!" Dr. Reynolds hushed the five friends. "Pay attention."
The quarterback stood up to protest. "But Dr. Reynolds, you can't expect us to..."
"You can and you will," the doctor cut him off sharply. "I suggest you take your seat if you know what's good for you."
Sam shook his head, shrugged his shoulders and sat down. "We might as well get this over with," he conceded as he slouched down in his chair.
The projector was old and so was the reel. In today's digital age, the boys had to scoff at the anachronism before them. The motor whirred a high-pitched hum, and the images flickered incessantly. It just made watching really uncomfortable at first. When the intro music and credits finished, an imposing but good-looking gentleman walked on-screen. He was wearing a sharp suit, his hair was slicked back to the fashion of his day, and his eyes were deep and dark. He wasn't too old yet something about his demeanor commanded attention and regard. He wore a confident smile on his face that added to his appeal.
"What is discipline?" he began, his voice a dominant bass with a slight Scottish accent. Everyone moaned, tossed up their hands and rolled up their eyes back in disgust. It was bad enough they were in detention; they couldn't believe they actually were going to waste the entire morning listening to a preset lecture from a Sean Connery-wannabe.
For the first five minutes, all of them were squirming in their seats. The twins jumped at every chance to make a joke; Brian and Chris were exchanging quips. All Sam did was keep looking at his wristwatch to see how much longer he had to suffer through this ordeal. This couldn't take forever, he hoped.
"Discipline is all about order and without order, there is only chaos." The man rambled on and on, eschewing the values and norms every gentleman should strive to abide to.
It was only after a while that Sam noticed something odd happening around him. Tim and Tom were quiet and were intently watching the film. The other two stopped talking and were even listening attentively. He thought, 'Hmm, guess there's something to this thing after all.'
"Discipline is about respect," the man droned as the flickering screen--which, in the beginning, was quite bothersome--was somehow easier to deal with now. In fact, the strobe-like effect was becoming more enchanting, enticing and entrancing by the minute.
Sam couldn't help but look directly into the screen. He peeked out from the corner of his eye at his friends and saw that the film fascinated them too.
The man continued to speak, his voice gaining resonance. The high-pitched hum was barely audible now, almost imperceptible.
"To show discipline, you must show obedience."
"What the f--" Flabbergasted, Sam called out to Chris, "Dude, did he say what he just said?"
His friend's silence led to Sam's tone becoming more insistent.
"Hey, can you hear me?"
But again, there was no reply.
"Discipline. Obedience. Discipline. Obedience," the man punctuated. "You must show obedience."
Sam thought, 'No! I'm not taking this shit anymore!' He forced himself to get up but couldn't; he felt something holding him down. He tried shouting for help but no words came out of his mouth. It was taking all of his willpower just to keep from looking at the screen but even then he felt his resistance beginning to flag.
"Be respectful, and you will be deserving of respect."
The entire room was flooded with more messages as Sam felt the words eating into his brain. 'What's... what's happening to me? Why... am... I...' He tried to think about anything else to take his mind away from what he was watching, but he found it difficult to do so. 'I can't listen... I won't...'
"Repeat after me: Respect and obey," the man on the screen commanded, and all of Sam's friends chanted: "Respect and obey." He found himself slowly mouthing the words as well even as he tried to stop himself: "Res... respect... a-and... obey." He was scared and desperate. He knew he couldn't hold on for much longer.
"Res...pect," Sam responded this time a bit more quickly.
"Obey," Sam finally said in unison with his friends and relaxed in his seat.
"Discipline," they answered together.
And for the next 10 minutes, the enthralled athletes were continuously bombarded with superliminal programming. They even had gotten half-hard in their pants from how good they felt watching and listening to the man who had become their entire world. Every time they agreed to something he said, they were rewarded with more pleasure, further reinforcing their willingness to obey.
All this time, Dr. Reynolds had been waiting outside the studio where apparently he had snuck out unnoticed. As much as he wanted to witness up close the subjugation of his subjects, he knew all too well the compelling nature of the film and, to be on the safe side, quarantined himself lest he be ensnared as well in its celluloid trap.
He checked his watch and noted that the show would be ending any minute now. He slightly opened the door and peered inside to silently survey his handiwork--five major hunks under his total control. His heart pounding, his penis throbbing, his hands shaking--it was all that he could do to stop jacking himself off right there and then, but at that moment, he heard Coach Henderson coming up to him in the hallway.
"Reynolds, there you are. Are you done with my boys?"
The doctor greeted back, thankful that his jacket was covering his hard on, "Ah, Coach, what a nice surprise. I was thinking of calling on you after practice, but now's a good time as any. Who's minding the store, or the field, in this case?"
"The rest are doing drills, but we can't start reviewing our plays when my best players are stuck here with you."
"Is the team expecting you back any time soon?" the doctor inquired.
"Nope. I left them instructions to break for lunch if I haven't showed up by then."
'Excellent,' the doctor thought. "Come in why don't you, and if you don't mind, please keep your voice down, they're finishing up an educational film right now."
"Educational film?" the coach asked.
"You'll see." Dr. Reynolds accompanied the coach who saw his wards uncharacteristically focused and attentive.
"Huh, how the hell did you get these guys to behave?" Coach Henderson remarked. "Wait a sec, that film looks familiar. Isn't that Dr. Green, the guy whose job you took over when he retired last year?"
"That he is, and this is the same film you watched when you were a student here fifteen years ago. Considering how old it is, I'm glad to say that it's as effective as ever," replied the doctor. "In fact just yesterday, Dr. Green and I had a fascinating conversation all about you and your teammates. It seemed you were the rowdy hellions of your time."
The coach looked at the screen, slightly interested. "Yeah, I've forgotten all about that," Henderson replied. He paced around the back of the room as if he was trying to recall something from long ago. "Much of what I remember is that we won a lot of games back then, practically every one of them, but not at the beginning though. We started out as just a bunch of punks like you said, but O'Malley whipped us into shape. What I wouldn't give to have the glory days back again," he proudly said at which point, the screen faded to black and the projector wound down to a stop.
"Well, here's your chance to relive a part of it, Coach," Dr. Reynolds smirked. "Boys, stand up from your seats," he commanded.
"Yes sir," they said, and the five jocks did so promptly and without hesitation, surprising the coach.
"Now I've seen everything. You have them better trained than I have."
'You've seen nuthin' yet,' laughed Dr. Reynolds to himself before saying aloud, "All right everyone, start stripping. Take everything off, including your underwear and place your clothes on the desks. When you take off your jackets, you will begin to get aroused, and as each and every piece of clothing is removed, you will feel hornier and hornier, your dicks will get harder and harder, but none of you are allowed to cum until I say so. What's also important is that you do everything slowly. Now that the coach is with us, there's no rush. We have all the time that we need."
"Yes sir," they responded.
The coach blinked, not quite sure he heard the school counselor said what he thought he just said. To his shock, he saw his players moving robotically and beginning to undress themselves with no objections to such an obviously obscene order.
"My God! What the hell are they doing, Reynolds! What's the meaning of this? Why's everybody acting like they're..."
"Zombies?" the doctor answered. "I assure you, this is simply your everyday run-of-the-mill mind control session. Something you ought to be quite familiar with, by the way. As I understand it, Dr. Green called you last night, not that you'd have any memory of it."
"Mind control? And what the hell are you taking about? Fuck that, I'm going to call the police and have you arrested!" the coach seethed as he reached for his cellphone to dial 911.
"I'm afraid that's not going to happen. Respect and obey me, Coach."
At those words, the coach froze where he was standing. "What's... happening... to me?" he stammered. Coach Henderson was not by all means a man to be trifled with. He had dedicated his life, his body to sports, and it definitely showed. He could squeeze the life out a man with his bare hands, but there he was, a 33-year-old hulking 6'2" 250lbs. mass of hardened flesh, immobilized at the whim of another. For all his vaunted strength, he was struggling to punch in the last digit on his phone, and he couldn't bring his finger any closer to the key. "N-no... why can't I move? What... what have you...?"
Dr. Reynolds repeated the command: "RESPECT and OBEY."
Henderson's face grew white. He fought as hard as he could, but his resistance proved all too futile, and in the end, he too was overcome. Defiance slowly faded from his face, his arms dropped to his sides, and he stood still, completely relaxed. "I will... respect and obey you, Dr. Reynolds," he said.
"Now that's more like it. Put that phone back in your pocket, lock the door and come over here."
"How are you feeling, Coach? asked the doctor, noting how much of Henderson's blank facial expression matched his players'.
The coach sighed. "Pretty good, sir. Thank you for making me feel this way again, sir."
"Well, let's see if we can't do better than 'good'. Take out your cock, Coach."
"Yes sir." Henderson slipped his thumbs beneath garters of his underwear and his tracksuit and pulled both under his hefty balls, causing his semi-flaccid cock to flop out.
"I've always wondered about how big you were. "Glad to see the rumors in the faculty lounge weren't just rumors," Reynolds snickered. "All right, Coach, since Dr. Green has transferred full control to me, I want you to start saying 'I am Dr. Reynolds's hypnotized slave' over and over again, and each time you do, you will become more and more turned on. The more you say it, the more you believe it, and the more you believe it, the bigger and stiffer your cock gets. Do you understand? "
"Very good, then begin."
The coach began intoning monotonically, "I am Dr. Reynolds's hypnotized slave. I am Dr. Reynolds's hypnotized slave. I am Dr. Reynolds's hypnotized slave."
The doctor closely watched the coach's fat cock bobbing, slowly filling with blood and its skin growing taut until finally achieving its full and very impressive size. He then squatted down to scrutinize Henderson's massive 9" erection twitching and its cockhead flaring upon every utterance of the mantra, and he exulted when the first beads of pre-cum oozed out of the slit. 'Perfect,' he thought. Now he could leave the coach by himself for a while.
He stood up, turned around and saw that the jocks were now completely hard, naked and waiting for further instructions. He told them to carefully move all the chairs to the sides of the room and when they were done, stand frozen like statues in a line for an inspection. As they were doing so, he took this opportunity to disrobe, after which, he started inspecting the players one by one, fondling their teen-aged muscles, and giving each of them a thorough blowjob and an occasional lubed finger or two up their asses.
As expected, Brian's was the biggest cock of them all, followed by Sam's, then the twins's (identical even there, the doctor noted) and finally Charlie's, which in fairness, looked proportionally huge in relation to his ripped and tight body, and the doctor loved them all. Titillated by their scents and turned on by their sensuality, he moved on to explore the rest of their bodies, and by the time he was done, even though their faces never showed it, they were all ready to blow their loads were it not for the doctor's orders.
The doctor was on edge himself, edging ever closer to his inevitable climax, and so he decided to wrap this morning's session up with a bang. But first, he had to get some things out of the way first.
He barked out, "Listen up, boys. Whenever I ask you a question, I want you answer me truthfully and to the best of your ability. Is that understood?"
"Yes sir," they simultaneously replied.
"And whenever I tell you something, you will accept it as the complete, unembellished truth."
"I think I'll start with you two." The doctor eyed the twins. "Timothy, Thomas. Do the two of you sleep in the same room?"
Timothy replied, "Yes." And Timothy followed, "We do."
"Have you played with each other sexually?"
"Yes, but it was a long time ago," one began. "We haven't jerked each other off aside from that one time," the other concluded. The doctor was a bit disappointed at the news, but that was going to change.
"Timothy, Thomas, when I count to three, your thoughts are going to be to filled with sex, and not just sex with anyone--you're dreaming that you're having sex with each other Hot, steamy, man-to-man sex, sex that the two of you should've been doing ever since you discovered pubes on your crotches."
The twins nodded in the affirmative, their bodies already tense.
"Good, then begin. One. Two. Three."
Tim and Tom faced each other and began to do exactly what the doctor had told them. At first they were kissing each other and trying to gain the upper hand, but eventually both of them ended up on the floor in a sixty-nine position, sucking each other off in an equal partnership.
Dr. Reynolds smiled approvingly and turned his attention to the best friends.
"Christopher, Brian. Do you boys have girlfriends?"
Both of them answered, "No sir."
"Handsome lads like yourselves? Why not?"
"I haven't found a girl I'd like to hook up with," Brian said, and Chris joined in, "Me neither."
"Is there anyone you like?"
Brian and Chris became quiet, clearly in an effort to keep something to themselves, but they couldn't resist the compulsion to speak the truth.
"C-Chris," Brian blurted out, and Chris replied with his best friend's name.
Reynolds's curiosity was piqued. "Are you two... together?"
"Yes sir," Chris said. "But nobody--not even our families--knows we're gay."
'Well, that makes things convenient,' thought the doctor, but this was something he would have to deal with more seriously in the future during a real counseling session.
"All right. I want both of you to face each other and look into each other's eyes."
"Yes sir," the young boys complied.
"I'll keep things simple. You two are going to make love, and the more you two love each other, the wilder, the harder the sex will be. Is that..."
And before the doctor knew it, the two boys rushed to each other like beasts in heat, and Brian immediately went for the kill ramming his tongue into Chris' mouth as they rolled on the floor. After a few minutes of French kissing, Brian worked his way down Chris' pecs, then the abs and the cock before rimming Chris' asshole.
Doctor Reynolds was fascinated at how expertly Brian loosened up Chris' rosebud that twitched expectantly. When Chris was good and ready, Brian got on his knees and plunged his foot-long phallus right into Chris' willing hole. With the way it easily slid in, it was obvious that they had done this before. The doctor watched awestruck at the rapturous hormonal-infused display and would have loved to feed his voyeuristic tendencies even more if he didn't one last subject to objectify, Mr. Andrews.
'And last but certainly not the least,' the doctor thought to himself as he paused to admire the magnificent specimen of manhood that stood in front of him.
"Samuel, how old are you."
"I just turned eighteen, sir."
"How old where you when you lost your virginity?"
"And to whom did you lose it to?"
"Some college girl I met in a frat party me and my buddies crashed, sir. I don't remember her name."
'Always the stud,' mused the doctor, tickled by the jock's adventurous indiscretion. He wanted to learn more of Samuel's sex-ploits, but with lunchtime soon coming up, time was of the essence, and he knew he had to make the most out of the situation. He thought for moment and considered bringing in the coach for this last bit of fun.
The doctor called out to the coach, "Henderson, you can stop saying what you're saying for now and come over here."
"Yes, sir." The coach groaned and walked awkwardly across the room trying to negotiate the very hard hard on he had sticking out of his track pants. His throbbing cock looked plumper than ever.
"Henderson, by now your balls are full of spunk, and I bet you _really_ need to get off. But no matter what you do to yourself, you won't be able to cum. The only way that's going to happen is that when you're fucking the smart mouth of your star player."
"Andrews' mouth fucked," said the coach.
"And as for you, Samuel, you are fascinated by my body and everything about it. Most especially, you want nothing more but to see, touch, feel and taste my cock. Not only that, you're dying to know how it feels to be stuffed up your ass."
"My ass stuffed," Sam paraphrased.
"Excellent, now get on your knees on the table, Samuel. Henderson, hit him high, and I'll hit him low."
Both of them responded, "Yes sir," and did what the doctor ordered. Henderson wasted no time jamming his dick down Sam's throat while Dr. Reynolds got on the table and slowly drove in his cock up Sam's chute. The doctor held on to the quarterback's bubble butt for support as he began fucking the boy in earnest. In between thrusts, he looked around the room and watched the other two pairs going at it with wild abandon. The room stank of sex and sweat, which only increased the everyone's lust. It was like a scene from one of his favorite porn flicks except in this one, he was calling the shots.
He couldn't believe how everything worked out better than he had ever hoped. Sure it took him two weeks restoring the film he found in the closet of his office that used to belong to Dr. Green, but it was well worth the time and effort considering how easily the jocks were hypnotized and how quickly the opportunity for testing it presented itself so soon after he talked to his mentor about it. Having an already pre-programmed Coach Henderson show up was an unexpected and delightful bonus. And the thought that he could get these men to do his every bidding started sending Dr. Reynolds over the edge, and just before he lost it, he shouted, "When I start cumming, all of you will cum with me!"
"Yes sir!" the group responded, those whose mouths weren't busy with sucking cock anyway, and not ten seconds later, the doctor couldn't stop himself and screamed out, "I'm, I'm cummmminnnnnnggggggg!"
And once that domino fell, there was no stopping the rest from toppling, and the room was suddenly filled with orgasmic gasps. Tim and Tom flooded each other's mouths with their twin spunks. Brian exploded into Chris who erupted in a flourish of white love. Henderson growled and groaned and grunted as Sam swallowed every single spurt his cum-denied coach delivered and Reynolds seeded Sam's virgin ass with his sperm.
Some time after the heat of the moment died down. the twins and the best friends resumed kissing each other and enjoying the afterglow of their mutual encounters. Dr. Reynolds pulled out of Sam who continued to suck on Henderson's deflating cock.
The doctor looked up at the clock and saw it was almost noon. He commanded everyone to clean up the room and each other, erasing any evidence of what had transpired that morning. He then told the boys to put on their clothes and sit down in their original seats while he talked to the coach.
"All right Henderson. You can head back to the field and will wake up when you get there. You will not remember anything, only that you came to talk to me about making sure the boys were good to go this afternoon. Is that understood?"
"Very good. Now go," Reynolds said as he watched the coach leave the room and wondered how it shouldn't be too hard to track down his former teammates at the homecoming championship game this Wednesday. Principal Phillips, for instance, was within reach. Maybe they'd enjoy having a special reunion courtesy of Dr. Green.
When the coach was gone, the doctor then told the players, "On the count of three, I will snap my fingers and each of you will then wake up. You will forget everything that you've seen and done here today. But when you hear me, and only me, say the words 'Respect and Obey', you will immediately return to this state. Do all of you understand?"
"Yes, Dr. Reynolds. We understand. We will respect and obey only you," the five men responded.
Satisfied, he counted them out. "One. Two. Three." Snap. Almost immediately, they awoke from their trance.
"Dude... what time is it?" asked Brian.
Checking his watch, Chris replied, "It's lunchtime. Looks like we survived another detention."
"Man, I felt like I just had a great nap," Timothy said yawning.
"Me too!" Tom concurred.
The doctor cut in. "Now if I can have everyone's attention. As agreed upon, you'll be spending this afternoon at practice, but you'll be serving the rest of your detention next Saturday."
"Yes sir," Sam interjected rather abruptly. Dr. Reynolds looked at him quizzically. Even Sam was taken aback at calling the doctor 'sir'.
"That's right, Samuel. Now, get going all of you. Coach Henderson is waiting for you. I still have to pack up and close the studio. And remember to please try to behave in Mrs. Stevens class or for anyone else's class in the future. You wouldn't want to be sent back to detention, now would you?"
Oblivious to everything that happened that morning, the five jocks got up from their seats and left.