O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

The Show Must Go On (hypno)

by Touchstone

You know how there are times you wish the earth would just open up and swallow you? That morning was just one of those times for Tyler Jones. You wouldn’t have believed it if you had seen him over the past week, ever since the results for the school play auditions had been released. Even though Tyler himself was really not into Literature or Theatre, having landed the role of Lysander in the school’s adaptation of Shakespeare’s ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ was something he had been looking forward to for a long time.

The reason why he got so excited was the same reason why he had signed up for English Lit classes in school anyway, despite the fact that he whines about how boring the subject was and how annoying Alexander Brown, the teacher was to his friends almost every day. When it came down to it, Tyler’s reason for almost everything since he had came to this school stemmed from what sat in front of him in almost all of his classes.

A girl named Marlene Johnson.

Needless to say, the day the results of the auditions were posted, Tyler had been looking for two names on the list. One was to make sure his name was there. Two was to make sure that her name was there. And as icing on the cake, she was playing the character that was meant to share more than one kissing scene with him.
Despite being one of the more ‘popular’ guys in school who always got what he wanted, thanks to his prowess on the football pitch, Marlene was one of the things that had always eluded his grasp. Which was a shame, considering despite the myriad of girls who had thrown themselves at him, he only wanted the one who never seemed to notice he was there.

Now she would though. That was what he told himself when he signed up for auditions.

Despite not having much acting talent, or at least that’s what he felt about himself, he had somehow managed to get in. It was his big opportunity to strike up a conversation with her. And so far, things had been going alright. During their first meeting to read-through the script, Mr. Brown had told him that he had potential.

It was too bad that potential did not mean interest. Since his only interest in the play was Marlene, over the weekend, the lines that he had been practising had been lines he had meant to use on Marlene after rehearsal, instead of, for instance, the lines from the first few scenes that he had been meant to memorize.

And so it was that that Monday morning turned out to be less than encouraging for Tyler. It started barely five minutes after the auditions started, in which he was meant to respond to Marlene’s first line, but his mind only drew up a blank. Thereafter, things only got worse. It became quite frank to everyone present that Tyler hadn’t memorized everything, having to repeat all of his lines after coaxing from Mr. Brown, who looked more than a little irritated throughout the whole rehearsal.

“Mr. Jones, may I have a word with you, please?”

Tyler sighed, watching as Marlene walked out the door with her friends and other actors who had actually *bothered* to memorize the script. Already he was beginning to scrap the lines he had learned last night. Now that he had made a complete fool of himself in front of her, they weren’t about to work anyway. Turning towards Mr. Brown, he sighed and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Brown. I promise I’ll have my lines memorized by tomorrow.”

“Yes, that was exactly what I wanted to talk to you about,” the man in his late forties replied, cleaning his glasses as he spoke. “Although I wasn’t going to scold you. I was going to offer you help.”

“Help?” Tyler repeated. “What kind of help?”

“In memorizing your lines, of course,” Mr. Brown replied. “I was a professional stage actor in my day, after all.”

“Yes, you were,” Tyler murmured to himself. It was a fact that the man only enjoyed too much to tell the class about. It was one of the reasons why the Lit class was so unbearable. It was bad enough that the man preached his subjects with annoying vigor and spirit, he sometimes liked to weave in stories about how ‘he’ had portrayed some of the characters they discussed on the stage before. He apparently enjoyed acting so much that ever since coming to this school to teach (which had been like, 13 years ago now), he had volunteered to running the school play every year, also always taking the opportunity to act himself and relive his glory days.

Last year he had been in the school’s staged version of Julius Caesar, in which he had played Julius Caesar himself. Tyler remembered because he had bothered showing up to watch it, or rather, to watch the girl who was sat one row ahead of him in the audience, transfixed by the Lit teacher’s charismatic display.

This year, he was playing Oberon, the fairy king. Mr. Brown had a thing for playing authority, power figures in his plays. And who could blame him?

Begrudgingly, now that Tyler thought about it, he had to admit that the man was good. A few pointers wouldn’t help after all.

“Okay then,” Tyler said.

“Could you come by my house after school then?” Mr. Brown asked.

Tyler was about to agree when he suddenly realized that he couldn’t. “I have football practice,” he admitted.

“After your football practice then?” Mr. Brown suggested, looking only slightly disappointed.
Tyler shrugged. “It might be a bit late...”

“It won’t take long, I promise. One hour at most,” Mr. Brown promised.

Tyler sighed. If it wasn’t going to take that long, how could it hurt? He *had* made plans to hang out with his teammates afterwards , but this was more important. It was, after all, his only way into Marlene’s life. And he could not afford to screw it up.

“I’ll be there,” he said finally. Waiting only for Mr. Brown to scribble down his address on a piece of paper before rushing off to his next class.

-

Mr. Brown’s house was at the outskirts of the town, which thankfully wasn’t too far from the school. As Tyler walked up the street he had been directed to, he was more than a little surprised to find that the neighbourhood look a lot more posh than he thought it would be. Most of the houses along the street were mansions, all enclosed by large grounds and lush gardens. He had a few friends who lived in places like these in other parts of the town, but he had never really expected that a person paid with a teaching salary would be able to afford a place in this kind of neighbourhood.

It didn’t take long to find Mr. Brown’s house. After the buzzing the intercom at the tall, black gates, he stepped back as the automatic gates swung open to let him in. Not thinking much about it, Tyler stepped in and started towards the large house at the end of a really long driveway, admiring the hedges and marble sculptures he saw in the garden he passed.

“Come on in, I’ll be with you in just a sec,” he heard Mr. Brown call from the inside as he approached the front door. And so Tyler went forward and stepped into quite a spacious living room, decorated in a modern fashion. A fireplace burned before a set of black leather sofas and white fur rug in the middle of the marble floor. Various more sculptures adorned the room, mostly abstract shapes that Tyler had no intention of trying to ‘figure out’.

There were also pictures on the wall. Of a more than familiar looking young man, dressed in various outfits in exaggerated poses. Tyler had to admit that in his youth, Mr. Brown must have been quite popular with the girls. The man in the pictures had smoothly combed black hair, a polished white smile and a large, perfectly shaped body- which in one picture featured prominently thanks to the fact that he was dressed only in a toga and laurel wreath, the same way he was dressed in Caesar last year.

Of course, last year he didn’t look as fit as he looked in the picture. In the picture, his blood-covered hands are outstretched towards an unseen Brutus, blood and sweat glistening over well defined muscles and abs as he kneels on the stage, the spotlight shining on him.

When the present version of Mr. Brown came into the living room, carrying with him two glasses of orange juice, Tyler was reminded that those days depicted in the pictures had came and went. Standing in front of him now was a sleazy old man dressed in only a wine-stained bathrobe and some shorts, revealing a hair matted chest and a more than visible belly. His black hair was now a mess, even beginning to show signs of greying in some places. Worse, balding in others.

Oh yes, this man had seen better days.

“I hope you don’t mind orange juice,” Mr. Brown said as he sat down on the sofa. “I’m out of everything else.”

“It’s alright,” Tyler said, taking his glass from the teacher and drinking it instantly. He was still thirsty and a little bit tired out from football practice. “So, now you said you were going to help me memorize my lines?” As he said this, he sat down on the armchair opposite his teacher and started digging through his backpack for his script, which he produced instantly.

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Brown said. “I hope you’re not too discouraged by today’s practice. I used to be forgetful back in my day as well.”

“How did you handle it then?” Tyler asked, not wanting the conversation to stray back to another one of Mr. Brown’s ‘glory days’.

“Well, a few exercises to help you get into character is a good start. In order to portray the character better, and have the lines just come to you naturally, you have to be the character. You’re not just acting as Lysander. You *are* Lysander. His griefs are yours. His joys are yours. His sorrows are yours. He is you. For you to do this properly, Tyler Jones must cease to exist during the hours in which you are on the stage,” Mr. Brown said.

“With you so far...” Tyler said. It sounded simple, he thought.

“So try reading the first page of your script for now. Just the first page. Five minutes should be enough for you to remember the lines at least at the top of your head. I will read Hermia’s lines, and I want you to react to them, respond to them as if you really were Lysander,” Mr. Brown told him.

Five minutes wasn’t much, Tyler thought to himself. But it was just the first page anyway. Opening the script, he read through his parts in his mind, and in that five minutes, managed to convince himself that he had it down.
Only to come up with a complete blank again once his second cue came up.

“Are you distracted?” Mr. Brown asked him. “Maybe that’s why you’re not able to remember your lines. Are you thinking of something else while you’re reading that script?”

“Somewhat,” Tyler admitted. One word came to mind. ‘Marlene’.

“In which case, I think I need to help you focus,” Mr. Brown said, getting up. He walked over to one of his displays, which was a large, blue crystal set in the center of a marble pedestal beside the fireplace. “I need you to look at this crystal.”

Tyler glanced over at it. “Yes, it’s pretty,” he said, sounding more than a little sarcastic.

If it annoyed Mr. Brown, the teacher didn’t show it. “Now I need you to find the very small crack in its center. Can you see it?”

Tyler had to squint. Where was it? “I can’t see it,” he murmured as his eyes scanned the surface of the pyramid-shaped crystal for the crack. For all intents and purposes, it was invisible to the eye. It was too beautifully polished, too refined to have a crack in it.

“It’s there, boy. You’re not looking hard enough.”

Tyler kept on trying. Not even noticing how much time was passing as he stared intently at the crystal. Eventually, the world around him was beginning to blur and melt away, leaving the large crystal at the center of his vision. At the back of his brain, he registered that Mr. Brown was saying something to him, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

Ah, there it was!

It was small. No, it was *tiny*, but it was there.

“It’s glowing, boy. Can you see it?”

No it wasn’t. Oh no wait, it was! How? Somehow, the light at the center of the crystal was growing brighter, a brilliant cascade of blue beginning to drown his vision. He would have shielded his eyes if his hands hadn’t suddenly felt so heavy and numb, a feeling that soon covered the rest of his body as the light bathed him completely, bringing with it soon after, blissful darkness.

-

Alex caught the boy as soon as he was under, his hands already round the boy’s chest by the time the boy’s eyelids had begun to droop. It was a thing that he had had to get a feel for back when he had been taught how to do this. Unexpected physical contact too early would wake the subject up. The same went for if the subject fell to the ground without being caught. The sudden impact would also sometimes cause subjects who weren’t as far deep to snap out of the trance.

Half carrying, half dragging the boy over to the sofa, Alex began to wish he was as fit as he used to be. It required some effort, but it was done without the boy waking up. With the boy now laying helpless on the sofa before him, Alex had to resist the temptation of ripping his clothes off and flipping him over, taking him right there and then. The results of patience were going to be a lot more rewarding than instant sexual gratification, he reminded himself as he sat down on the rug beside the sofa, leaning in close enough that he could whisper in Tyler’s ears.

“Tyler, can you hear me?” he asked softly.

“Y..yes...” the answer came. Soft and almost unheard.

“You’re feeling tired now, aren’t you? Much too tired...” Alex continued.

“Much too tired...” the teenager’s voice repeated sleepily. Alex had to smile to himself. It was both a physical tiredness as well as it was a mental fatigue brought on by the trance. The drugs he had slipped into Tyler’s drink had seen to that.

“In fact, you’re so tired that you’re finding it hard to think. You can try to form your own thoughts, but they flow away like water as soon as you form them.”

“Like...water....” the teenager agreed.

“But that’s a problem, isn’t it? You need to be able to think to memorize your lines,” Alex pointed out. “And if you don’t memorize them, Marlene will think you’re a loser, and I will be disappointed in you.”

A look of worry appeared on Tyler’s sleeping face now.

“Now, without having to think, who are you more worried about disappointing, Tyler? Marlene, or your Mast- ah, I mean, Mr Brown?” Alex chided himself inside. He had to go slow. It was hard to remind the bulging erection in his shorts that sometimes.

“Marlene.” An answer that was quick and firm. Which meant that the boy’s adoration for his classmate must have been long going and strong. Possibly a very pure, genuine kind of love. A bit harder to manage, but workable all the same. If he could break apart students who had been with their significant others for years, he did not see how a boy in love with a girl he hadn’t managed to ask out yet could be any harder.

‘Well, boy,’ Alex thought to himself. ‘Soon that answer is about to change.’

“Boy, Mr. Brown is your friend. Surely you must worry about what he thinks too,” Alex continued.

“...friend?” Confused now. A line was being approached here.

“Well he *does* care for you. Why else would he let you into the school play? Why else would he always give you tips for doing your homework? Why else has he never failed you, even when your work is sub-par? Why else has he let you into his home to help you memorize your lines?”

Bombarded with reasons that his tired mind could not push out, Tyler accepted it.

“If not as a friend, maybe he deserves some respect. In class, maybe you should start paying attention to him speak,” Mr. Brown suggested.

“Maybe...”

“Now boy, I want you to imagine yourself in a room with four walls. In it is everything you have ever loved. Your football equipment. Pictures of Marlene. Everything. Can you do that for me?” Alex asked.

“Yes...” the teenager slurred. Alex allowed some silence for the boy to attempt to recollect his thoughts for a bit before he moved on.

“Now, I want you to look at one of the walls. I think you can see a small hole in it, can’t you?”

It didn’t matter that it was phrased as a question. Alex knew that Tyler would be seeing that hole.

“My voice reaches you through that hole, Tyler. It closes when you’re awake, but whenever I say the words ‘The show must go on’, that hole will reappear, and you will once again hear my voice in your mind, bringing you back to this relaxed state you’re in. Is that clear?” Alex asked.

“Yes...” the helpless teenager replied.

“Now,” Alex grinned happily, picking up the script which Tyler had dropped. “Before I let you up for the day, I’m going to read you some lines, and put a few little things into that room. For now the hole can only accept words, but that will have to do for now. I know that in class, whenever you hear my voice, you lose interest and you start to think of Marlene, but now you’re too tired to think of her, remember? Besides, Alex is your friend, and he deserves some respect.”

“Respect...yes,” Tyler’s voice drawled.

“Good boy,” Alex said, taking a small risk as he stroked the boy’s head affectionately. He then opened the first page of the script and began reading to his captive audience.

-

“What...what happened?” Tyler murmured sleepily as he sat up on the sofa, feeling more than a little groggy.

“You just fell asleep, that’s all,” came the answer from across the room. “I didn’t want to wake you because you looked so tired.” Tyler turned to look at the armchair, where Mr. Brown was sitting now, reading a novel while smoking a pipe in front of the fire.

Tyler smiled appreciatively as he stood up. “Thank you. I uh...wouldn’t have gotten that much sleep at home. Mom won’t let me take naps after school. She prefers it if I dive right into schoolwork straight away.”

“Why so much pressure? Surely if you wanted to be a football player-

“My mom wants me to be a doctor. That involves a lot of work, apparently,” Tyler admitted with a sigh. “I wouldn’t mind being both. If that could somehow work. But either way it’s probably best to work for both things at the same time, y’know? I’m not stupid enough to throw everything into football. Making it in the real world isn’t as easy as they make it look like on TV.”

“Must be rough,” Mr. Brown said sympathetically.

Tyler shrugged. “I’ll manage. Somehow. But in a way I’m glad I took your Lit class,” he said. “Admittedly, I never paid much attention before, but I don’t know. Getting involved with this play...it’s sort of got me interested. It’s a nice break from those two other things.” Before this, he’d never imagined ever having this kind of conversation with Mr. Brown. But somehow, now that he’d started, it felt good somehow. Like a big weight had been lifted off his chest. He’d told his friends about his mother making work for med school, but he’d never told them that football could get tiring as well. They just wouldn’t understand.

“That’s nice to know,” Mr. Brown replied. “It’s refreshing to see a student show such a healthy amount of interest in acting and theatre as you have today, Tyler. I always knew you had it in you. Which is why I was so glad when I saw you auditioning for the play.”

Tyler stared blankly ahead for a while, as though contemplating what Mr. Brown had said. The last past hour had been great fun, he remembered. He’d never thought rehearsing would be this engaging. It felt like a new part of him was awakening.

“Anyway,” Tyler said, looking at his watch and reminded again of having to be home soon. “Thanks for your time, sir.” And with that he picked up his backpack and script and started towards the door.

“Same time tomorrow?” he heard Mr. Brown call after him.

“I look forward to it!” he called back. And he meant it. He really did. So much that he was rereading his lines as he walked all the way home.

-

The whole night, Tyler found that he couldn’t concentrate on anything else. He tried to study, be he kept on imagining himself on the stage on the night itself, standing opposite Marlene. His friends came over to invite him to hang out at the bar to watch a football game, but he turned them down. Somehow deep inside he knew that he couldn’t afford to let Mr. Brown down. Not after the way he had talked to him today. Tyler had other friends, but today he learned that Mr. Brown was one who actually listened to his problems.

He slept in his bed, dreaming of the big night. Of him and Marlene becoming Lysander and Hermia themselves, dressed in their medieval costumes, and Mr. Brown as Oberon, the powerful, beautiful fairy king dressed in a thin, white toga that left little to the imagination.

It would be a night to remember.

-

Tyler woke up the next morning with stains on his sheet. “Another dream about Marlene,” he thought to himself as he climbed out of bed. As he thought about how soon they would soon be together, he beat off in the shower again, thinking of her caresses on his naked skin. His Hermia. His goddess who would run away with him where no one could reach.

-

“Mr. Jones?”

Tyler stopped just as he was about to leave the class, turning around to face Mr. Brown sitting on the desk with a friendly smile on his face. Behind Tyler, the door swung shut behind the last student who left, leaving the two alone in the sunlit classroom.

“Yes, sir?” Tyler replied. “If it’s about my homework, I’m terribly sorry about it. I-

“That’s alright Tyler, I understand,” Mr. Brown said, stopping him with a raised hand. “Like you said yesterday, it’s only after you got involved in the play that you felt more interested in what I have to teach. So unlike the other students, I’m not going to assess that last assignment to count for your final grade.”

“Oh my God!” Tyler gasped. “Thank you!” It had been a lousy start to the day until now. Finding out that he had gotten an ‘F’ in an assignment that would actually count towards his final grade was not very encouraging.

“I’ll instead award you a grade based on how well I see your performance on the big night,” Mr. Brown continued.

“Well that means I should work doubly hard then, shouldn’t I?” Tyler murmured.

“Exactly what I was thinking. Well, if you really want it of course. I mean, you wouldn’t need a high grade from my class to get into med school,” Mr. Brown said.

“Maybe I should increase the practice time at your house by another hour...if you’ll have me, of course,” Tyler said, looking at Mr. Brown with uncertainty.

“Of course I will,” Mr. Brown said with a warm smile. “Will that be before or after yesterday’s 4 o’clock?”

“Uh...after, of course. I still have football,” Tyler said. Alex noted a slight lack of enthusiasm in his voice as he mentioned it.

“I’m glad that you’re willing to sacrifice your personal time for the school play, Tyler,” Mr. Brown said. “I really appreciate it. At first some of my colleagues, well, particularly your coach warned me that you might ditch practice to focus on the upcoming regionals. I’m so happy to see that he was wrong about you.”

Tyler’s eyes widened with surprise. “He...really said that?” he muttered disbelievingly. How dare that man make assumptions about what he wanted to do?

“Yes, Tyler. He did. But again, I never doubted you for a moment. I think you of all people in our theatre group seem to appreciate the fact that no matter what happens, the show must go on.”

The effect was instantaneous. The look of disbelief on the boy’s face immediately slackened into an empty gaze, his firm stance before now starting to shake as he started to sway in place in front of his Literature teacher, completely awash in the same relaxing feeling that had soaked into him the night before.

“Now, boy, I want you to listen carefully. At football practice this evening, you are going to be distracted, thinking about the play. Thinking about Marlene. Thinking about me. You are going to feel guilty for not spending more time on the play. It will be like that in every football practice from now on. Is that clear?” Alex asked.

“Yes...” Tyler murmured sleepily in response.

“Slowly, with every football practice you will begin to find yourself less and less motivated. You will notice how the other star football players are not very bright. Perhaps being a football player isn’t the best thing in the world after all.”

Tyler silently agreed to this. Satisfied, Alex made Tyler settle down at his table before waking him up. The poor boy was apologizing profusely on his way out, looking more than a little depressed at the thought of having disappointed his favourite teacher.

-

That evening was an evening of contrast. Practice for the play went fine. More than fine, even, it went great! Tyler wasn’t sure how, but the lines just seemed to come to him at the right time. And not just that, he found himself being able to act with even more vigor and passion than before. It was as though when he stepped on stage, a fire was set up inside him, and he was taken over by something else.

The best thing, of course, was the Marlene seemed to be visibly impressed by this drastic improvement. She gave him a simple smile on the way out of class, but it was enough to make his day.

Up until football practice, at least. For some reason, everything seemed to go wrong that day. He missed so many catches that the coach called him off the field and asked if he was awake enough to play. He hadn’t been scolded, but it was enough to make him feel bad.

At least, for five minutes until he realized that he had practice at Mr. Brown’s house to look forward to.

Mr. Brown greeted him wearing only a pair of shorts that day. A fact that didn’t bother Tyler at all. Especially after Alex used his trigger phase, sending him back to sleep. Like the day before, Mr. Brown whispered his lines into his ear as he laid in a trance on the sofa, helpless against the words coming through the hole in the room in his subconscious mind. Not being able to react any other way, he let them in. One thing he managed to note, however, before he awoke was that the image of his football equipment in that room seemed to be a bit blurry round the edges.

It was an image that continued to blur as the week progressed. Tyler found himself feeling even less and less motivated to attend football practice. And even when he did, he wasn’t able to concentrate one bit, thinking often of Marlene, and Mr. Brown.

Meanwhile, his play rehearsals seemed to get better and better. The other people involved who used to look at him sceptically were beginning to admit that he had talent. Marlene was one of them. The day she had said that to him, he felt as though he would burst with joy.

However, Alex soon found that that was the day that Tyler turned up at his house looking more than a little upset. Alex had been round the back, in the swimming pool when Tyler arrived. Having become a regular guest, Tyler made his own way round there, not seeming at all bothered that Alex, who had climbed out of the pool dripping wet in a pair of tight speedos was sitting down right beside him on a bench facing the pool, their thighs grazing each other.

“I’m off the team,” Tyler sighed. “Coach says I’m getting so bad that I’m not worth keeping around.”

Alex put a comforting hand over Tyler’s shoulder. A gesture that the teenager very much appreciated, blinking back tears as he continued, “For the longest time, it was all I ever wanted. My friends all look disappointed in me. I think they might think I’m a loser now.”

“I don’t think you’re a loser, Tyler,” Alex said softly.

This brought a smile to the boy’s face. “Thank you, sir. Lately it feels like you’re the only one who has faith in me anymore. My mother’s noticed how much I’ve been practicing for the play and she’s been trying to convince me to give it up in case it jeopardizes my studying.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it, Tyler? Everyone else wants you to be something. What do you want to do?” Alex coaxed.

Tyler sat in silence for a while, thinking. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I used to be so certain that I wanted to be a football player. I used to think I wouldn’t mind being a doctor. Now I think I’m beginning to toy with the idea of becoming a stage actor. Like you.”

Alex couldn’t help but feel a little proud, seeing the look of adoration the teen gave him then. Just a little more than a week, and he had managed to change this boy so much. Pretty soon, he wouldn’t have to beat off alone in the showers anymore. And neither would the boy for that matter.

Even with Alex’s erection now showing in his tight speedos, Tyler didn’t seem to mind.

“Whatever you choose, my boy, you know I have your back,” Alex encouraged him, thinking to himself that he would soon have much more than the boy’s back.

“Thank you, sir,” Tyler whispered, finding himself so overwhelmed with emotion that he hugged the wet, almost naked form of his teacher, burying his face in the man’s shoulder.

By this point, when Alex put Tyler under again, the hole had been turned into a window. Tyler could now see his image from inside his room, and take certain objects passed to him from it. The football equipment was gone now, completely faded away. Alex found that he could now touch the boy’s body, stroking him lovingly without risk of waking the boy up. In just about a week, he had managed to become the boy’s best friend.

Tyler’s dreams when he went home that night were still about the play, as always. Only this time it was more vivid. After his final kiss with Hermia, Lysander found himself facing the mighty Lord Oberon as he swept onto the stage, defying the laws laid down by the script. Oberon whispered something in his ear, an offer. And every time, before he could answer, he would see Oberon grasping him by the shoulders and leading him off stage. Back to his realm. His world where he was God. And he, Lysander would serve as his humble vassal for an eternity.

Tyler didn’t think much of it when he woke up. Neither did he think much of the fact that now, when he was in the shower, while he imagined making lover to Hermia, Oberon was behind him, inserting his manhood into his ass where it belonged. Dominating the both of them.

Practice continued to go well over the next few days. Tyler was beginning to find himself more and more confident in his acting skills. And he knew that it was all thanks to his teacher, which was why that on evenings, he still came by to his teacher’s place even though he had completely memorized the tricks. He enjoyed listening to his teacher’s tales of when he was a young stage actor. They fascinated him, captured his imagination like never before.

But there was still one thing that captured his imagination more.

“I’m going to ask her out today,” Tyler told him that evening, after class and before rehearsals.

Alex almost gagged. “Who?” he asked. Cringing even before the name was mentioned.

“Marlene. I think I’ve impressed her enough already. Her friends are saying she might like me too. So today, after practice, I’m going to ask her out,” Tyler said.

Alex sighed. “Are you sure that this is what you want, boy?” he asked. “I mean sure, Marlene’s pretty, but...”

“You don’t like her?” Tyler asked, looking a bit worried.

“I think you deserve someone better,” Alex said, putting a hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “She’s a good actress, but I’m sure you must have noticed that her heart is not in it as much as yours is. After school, she’s just like all the other girls. Shallow and naive.”

Seeing the fact that Tyler didn’t seem too convinced by this, Alex used the trigger words again, and reinforced what he said earlier.

By the time Tyler awoke, he found himself slightly disappointed by the fact that she wasn’t as into the play as he was. What other commitments could she have that could be more important? He just couldn’t see. He wasn’t outright disgusted with her, though. Part of her still found her cute, and he hoped she might change eventually. But he decided against asking her out for now. Perhaps it would be better if he waited for after the play.

“After,” Alex agreed, smiling to himself, knowing that by then, it would be too late for the boy.

-

Tyler came that evening to find Mr. Brown in the swimming pool again. Only this time, he wasn’t wearing anything.

“I’m sorry, Tyler, but does this make you uncomfortable? I could put on some clothes if you want,” Alex said from inside the pool. Tyler took a while to respond, finding himself inevitably staring at Alex’s powerful looking cock from the edge of the pool. The way the long, grayish pubic hair seemed to ripple in the water around the majestic organ transfixed Tyler for a while. And he couldn’t explain why. He was straight, after all.

Perhaps it was just curiosity.

“No, don’t worry about it,” he said. And he meant it. They were friends, after all. It was no big deal.

“Do you want to come in and join me?” Alex offered.

“I don’t have anything to wear in the pool,” Tyler replied, looking a bit regretful. “Maybe tomorrow.”

But he did not remember to bring his swimming trunks the next day. Or the day after. Somehow, it always managed to slip his mind no matter how much post-its he used. And the strange thing was that he was beginning to find it distressing that he always had to turn the offer down. This came with more and more vivid dreams of him being in the pool with Mr. Brown. The older man touching him in places that he never thought existed under the water.
All of this went on until one day, when Alex invited him in, Tyler replied, as per usual, “I’m sorry, I forgot to bring my swimming trunks again...”

“You don’t have to wear anything, you know,” Alex coaxed.

One gentle nudge, and he found his resistance crumbling. Agreeing instantly, he stripped down to nothing, tossing his clothes aside carelessly as he charged towards the diving board, his impressive semi-hard cock flapping up and down as he ran, a sight which caused Alex to lick his lips in anticipation of the day when it would finally belong to him and him alone.

As Tyler rose out of the water to catch his breath after the dive, he felt his back graze against Alex’s chest. It was a sensation that sent chills up his spine. A small, insignificant part of his brain seemed to tell him that it was wrong, and that he should not let it happen. But it was hard to listen to that voice when he started feeling Alex’s fingers trailing his skin, slowly, softly, sensuously.

“I’ve been having...” he panted, “...strange dreams of late, sir.”

“What kind of dreams, my boy?” Alex asked casually, while his hands locked lovingly around the boy’s chest. He made sure to rub his groin against the boy’s backside, not so far as to enter the boy just yet, but just so the boy would feel , get a taste of what was to come.

“In it...you’re touching me. And I’m touching you. And it feels so good...especially when you enter me. I have never felt so complete before. It’s like, we are us, but at the same time, we’re different people, free from anything that says we shouldn’t be doing what we are in that dream,” Tyler murmured. “Would Oberon really take Lysander away from Hermia? I know that’s not how Shakespeare wrote it, but...”

“Oberon *takes* what he wants, my boy,” Alex whispered huskily in the boy’s ear. “Perhaps Hermia didn’t deserve Lysander if she could allow a petty thing as a love potion to alter her allegiances.”

“Does it...does it make me gay, sir?” Tyler asked further. “That I think about you the way I do?”

“Perhaps,” Alex replied. “Would it be wrong if you were?” His hands were trailing down to the boy’s thighs now. The boy was as good as his.

Tyler took a long pause. “It would be, if I could not be with you,” he said finally. “It’s strange, I’ve...never felt this way before, particularly with another man. But with you, sir... I feel so... loved. Like I belong to you. Like I have always belonged to you.”
The boy’s cock hardened in the tender grip.

“Would you please...take me, sir?” Tyler whispered, his voice desperate and pleading. “I want you inside me so much.”

At that point, Alex was ready to just drag the boy out of the pool, drop him on all fours, and plow into him there and then. But he didn’t. Not yet, he told himself. The boy had feelings for him now, which was all fine and grand, but his transformation was not complete yet. Alex would not risk the boy regretting his decision now, not when they had come so far.

“Boy, I will not take you,” Alex told him as they got out of the pool together, heading towards the shower. He savoured the crestfallen look on the boy’s face as he turned on the shower, looking almost ready to ignore the boy’s request for good.

As warm water cascaded over his naked body, he shot a seductive grin at the youth who watched him, stroking himself at the sight of his naked teacher in the shower. “I will however, let you worship me. My mark inside you is something you have to earn, boy. I will see how well you do in the play, and then I will decide if you’re worthy of being my lover.”

He turned towards Tyler then, beckoning the youth over with a finger as his other hand grasped his hard cock in front of him.

“Come to the Temple of Oberon, mortal, and worship your God,” Alex announced in a commanding voice.

Tyler was on his knees almost as soon as he was in the shower with him, his wet mouth quickly encasing Alex’s cock, savoring the texture of the skin, the drop of flavour that exploded on his tongue as the first drop of precum was earned by his sucking and fondling of his teacher’s fertile looking ball sac. He breathed in the musk from the man’s pubic hair, and felt his mind evaporate further as his cock hardened painfully between his legs. It only got more harder as Alex encouraged him on, pressing his face harder into his groin, fucking his face and screaming him praises for his efforts.

Tyler came only a few seconds after Alex did, greedily swallowing every last drop that was offered to him. The taste of his master’s potent manseed was what sent him over the edge. That, and the knowledge that this was where he belonged- on his knees, between his Master’s thighs, worshipping his cock as drool ran down his chin. They sat entwined in each other’s arms in the shower until the water ran cold.

That day, Tyler spent his hour in a trance with his head on Alex’s lap, the both of them still naked. Feeling more than a little relieved to know that his efforts were finally proving fruitful, Alex toyed with ideas of what more he could do. He reminded himself that his power over Tyler was not absolute.

Not yet, at least.

The window into Tyler’s mind was a doorway now. Alex entered freely that day, and was allowed to throw everything but what he put there himself out. While Tyler lay asleep in his Master’s lap, his personality was beginning to fade away. Taking its place were aspects of what Alex wanted him to be. Things that he would be proud to be. Things that he would die to be. Marlene was nonexistent in his mind at this point. It was a realm where everything was as Mr. Brown, no, his Master now, would decide everything. And one of the newest edicts was that as of today, Tyler was no longer his student.

He was his slave.

-

The following days came and went faster for Alex, but the same couldn’t be said for Tyler. While the older man was now receiving his sexual release daily now that Tyler was ready to drop to his knees and suck his cock at the slightest suggestion, every time Tyler tasted Alex’s seed, he found himself yearning more and more for the day where his Master would honor him by entering him and completing him. Giving him the thing that he had always dreamed of.

On the night of the performance itself, Tyler could do no wrong. The past month or so of conditioning and training had put him so well into his role that the audience almost could not believe that this boy was not a professional. He looked at Marlene with the eyes of Lysander gazing upon his Hermia. Although at the back of his mind, he knew that Oberon was the one he was waiting for, he had learned not to show it on stage. It was all going to be a reward for later.

He had never felt so alive that night, never felt so appreciated as the audience cheered for him at the end of the show, calling his name out loud. Even more thrilling was the looks his Master gave him- smiles that foreshadowed what was going to happen tonight while he ‘slept over at a friend’s place to celebrate’, or so his parents believed.

He dashed past a congratulating Marlene as the play ended backstage, towards Alex and the two embraced each other affectionately, as if they were father and son. “Thank you!” he said, somehow restraining himself from grinding the erection in his tights against his Master’s.

“Thank you,” he repeated that night as he entered his Master’s bedroom. “Master.”

“You had the talent, boy, but you were willing to give it hard work too. Tonight, I reward you,” Mr. Brown said as he closed the bedroom door behind him.
Standing behind Tyler in front of the mirror, Alex kissed Tyler’s neck affectionately, nipping occasionally as he unbuttoned the boy’s shirt. By the time Tyler’s pants were lowered, his erection sprung free, declaring out all the feelings he had been suppressing within himself all night.

Alex undressed quietly, softly before he turned the boy around to face him. He pressed his lips against the boy’s, loving how the now submissive Tyler opened his mouth to let him in and explore. Yes, the boy’s tongue was just as good in his mouth as it was on his cock. He had hit solid gold with this one.

“Tonight, I claim you as my own, my little slave,” Alex breathed huskily as the kiss broke, their hands still desperately feeling each other as they moved towards the bed. “When I come inside you, everything that I have done to you will become permanent. You will never be able to go back to your old life.”
Tyler said nothing as Alex lowered him onto the bed.

“Oh, my beautiful, beautiful piece of clay,” Alex grinned lustfully as he parted the boy’s thighs. “I will shape you in my own image. My slave, my own piece of flesh, puppet to the strings of my desire... you will become as I want you to be.”

He placed a finger at Tyler’s mouth, which the boy eagerly began sucking in earnest.

“You will know only to serve me. My pleasure comes before everything else, and you exist to bring it to me,” he continued as he brought the wet, glistening finger out of the boy’s mouth and down towards the boy’s ass, trailing circles along the ass cheeks before he pushed it in, slowly, lowering himself at the same time.

The boy moaned deliciously beneath him as his finger hit home, a sound that was only intensified as Alex lowered himself down enough to start nipping at his nipples, swirling around it with his tongue like a cat playing with his food.

“Do you love me, boy?” he asked as his finger withdrew.

“I worship you, Master,” the boy replied, swooning with ecstasy as he felt the tip of Alex’s cock touch his entrance.

“Then it’s time,” Alex smiled, pushing in, slowly, slowly enough for the boy to savor the feeling of his Master carefully entering him. The feeling of the Master’s hot, pulsing erection touching his inside sent him awash with joy, and it took all his self restraint not to come there and then. His legs wrapped around his Master’s torso with anticipation, and he took hold of one of his Master’s free hands. He brought the hand to his lips, and began lapping at it, gingerly, as though he were doing it to his cock. The slurping noises he made caused Alex ‘s smile to widen as he began to move, thrusting in slowly, deeply, grazing the spot that made the boy’s eyes widen with delight.

If the puppet felt any pain, he did not show it. He did not want tonight to end now just because his Master worried that he would hurt him. Encouraged by the boy’s moans, Alex began to thrust in faster, harder, causing the bed itself to rock with every hit. The music of their collective moans and the sound of his balls slapping against the boy’s asscheeks reached a crescendo as Alex weaved together the final piece of the cocoon around his latest conquest, grabbing the boy’s erection in his hands and stroking it in time with his rhythmic thrusts.

It was in a fire of delight unlike any other that Tyler was reborn that night. The feeling of his Master’s warm seed filling his anal region sent stars erupting at the back of his brain. His own seed erupted forth at the same time, like a dam cut loose as it bathed his Master’s torso in his own essence. At the moment in time, the walls came crashing down, eroded by the tidal wave of his Master’s seed inside him, shutting his sense of individuality down for good. The Master was everywhere now. Inside him. Around him. He was everything. Everything that mattered.

The Master pulled out of him gently, leaving a trail of come glistening out of his ass. Together they lay on the bed with the Master’s arms draped possessively over his new boy. This one was a keeper. Over his past years in teaching, Alex had always restored the personality of his main characters after the play. Not this time. He wanted this boy. Wanted him to always stare up at him in adoration. Wanted him to always succumb to his every desire.
Thoughts of what else they might do in the days to come set fire to his loins, and soon he was hard again. From behind, with the boy still in his embrace, he entered the boy again, receiving a happy sigh in response.

“Oh, Master...thank you...”

He drifted off to sleep, buried deep in the tighests ass he had ever had.

-

The next few weeks passed like a dream. This time, for the both of them. Tyler would lower himself beneath the teacher’s desk every day after class and get his daily dose of manseed before the evening came and he lay with his teacher in bed. For the whole night at times when his parents thought he was away at a friend’s place. For a few hours when he was expected home.

Before long, finals came and went. A fact that only occurred to Alex one day when Tyler showed up at his doorstep with tears in his eyes and bags at his side.

“I didn’t make it to med school,” Tyler whispered, sounding distraught. “I think my parents know... they’re...they’ve disowned me. I have nowhere to go.”

Alex kissed him softly. “There, there, slave. You couldn’t perform well in your exams because you knew that wasn’t what would make me happy. You never wanted to be a doctor or a football player. Deep inside, all you wanted, was me fucking you senseless all day and all night. We can have that now. With no one to stop us.”

“Yes... I never wanted...” Tyler whispered. It was the truth as far as he was concerned. That part of him that had wanted those things was long buried now.

“But fear not, you will have a purpose in life. I’m sending you to the acting school I went to,” Alex told him, grasping his shoulder’s encouragingly. “I will pay for everything, don’t you worry. You will become just like me in time, boy. I will even teach you what I did to you, so one day you may do this favor for another person too.”

“Acting school?” Tyler repeated, looking a little surprised, excited yet worried at the same time. “But I don’t want to leave-

Alex laughed, biting the boy’s right ear playfully. “Who said anything about you leaving me behind? I’m not about to let my favourite plaything out into the world. I will take care of you all the way. We will move there, and live together. Your days will be spent training and your nights spent worshipping me. Every day from now on, I will fuck you like there’s no tomorrow. How does that sound?”

"Like heaven, Master." Tyler pressed his lips against his Master’s appreciatively. As they started kissing, Tyler felt his Master reach for the table beside and pick up something- something that soon found it’s way round his neck, buckled together behind with a snap.

It was a leather collar.

“Let’s see if your acting skills have deteriorated,” Master said. “Today, you’re not Tyler, you’re not Slave, you’re simply, Dog.”

“Arf,” Tyler barked happily. Falling down onto all fours before his Master’s feet, feeling as though a real tail were growing out of his backside. He sniffed, as a dog should at the air, loving the aroma of his Master’s socks, and the toes that lay beyond it. With a simple order, he helped take those socks off and soon found himself drinking the sweat the collected there, sucking at them enthusiastically.

“Good Dog,” Alex grinned, patting the boy’s head. Oh yes. This one was a keeper.

END

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