Disclaimer: This is a work of erotic fiction. If you are under the legal age to read this, or are offended by the idea of male-male sex or mind control, DO NOT read further.
I sent a preliminary version of this story to a "team" of volunteer readers, and their suggestions improved the story considerably. I thank you guys for your help. From your emails, it sounded as if you had fun picking over it!
Also, I sometimes worry that my stories repeat too many of the same themes. Then I realize that many of my favorite authors on a variety of websites "make a living" from presenting similar themes in a large variety of ways, and then I feel better about what I'm doing. Hopefully I'm not boring you guys...
[John Atlas, teacher]
My name is John Atlas. Yes, I know, and by coincidence it just happens to fit. I'm an amateur bodybuilder. I was lucky enough to be born both with a body worth working on, and the will to keep at it for hours every day. I won't brag about my statistics here, but I've won a few amateur competitions, and hope to improve on my record with constant, dedicated work. That's the kind of guy I am.
I'm 22 and I'm in a graduate program that will let me fulfill my goal of becoming a full-time high school teacher. I love mentoring students, and also helping people generally, so it would be the perfect job for me. I'm not yet certified to teach any core subjects, so for now I am the assistant coach of the JV football team, and I teach a class in Men's Health that is mandatory for all male students.
Helping to coach the JV team is great, and I'm able to use what I learned from my days as captain of our almost-state-champion varsity team four years ago. The guys are mostly great, and are really dedicated to the work I require of them. The guys who are the probable future leaders of the varsity, and even those who are obviously not going to make it to varsity, put it a lot of effort, and they all respect me for my efforts on their behalf.
Jason Primo is the thorn in my side. He's a junior, and has the talent to be on the varsity team, but he has a huge attitude problem. He mouths off constantly, and occasionally refuses to do the work assigned to him. He's got a great body, and he works on it all the time, but he only does it out of vanity. The conditioning needed for football and the exercise needed for sculpting looks alone are not the same, and he's only interested in the latter. If I weren't there, his bad attitude might poison the others on the team. Fortunately, I'm more than a match for him. I'm bigger and stronger than he is, which lets me intimidate him when I need to.
Helping me keep things together with the JV is Lance Albright, a sophomore and real leader who will almost certainly make varsity next year. He is dedicated to his studies and his sports, and I'm sure he will go far in life. He's also agreed to help me develop, or at least control, Primo at practice. Even though he's a year younger than Primo, and not yet quite as built, he's far more mature than Primo. He keeps me informed about what the team talks about in the locker room, about who has what problems. That lets me help the kids out individually and without embarrassing them. I think that helps with their loyalty and hard work, and I can occasionally get Primo out of my mind.
Unfortunately, Primo is also in my Men's Health class, along with two of his hangers-on, 'Buzz' Hingam and Chris Wirtz, both slackers and, if I'm not mistaken, recreational drug users. They're also both wrestlers and not all that good at it since they don't have much of a work ethic, but they're built big and I guess the school lacks for guys in the higher weight classes. They were well known as bullies in middle school and beyond, and had to be disciplined constantly.
Primo and his "homies" sometimes try to disrupt the class, but I'm more than a match for them. Yesterday, Primo interjected a nasty comment as Freddy Abner was answering a question I posed to the class. Freddy is a really nice kid, but he's sort of the skinny "nerd" type, always ready with an answer; he's the star student of the class, which I guess kind of annoys some of the others who don't want to take the class seriously.
We were talking about hydration, and how important it is during physical exercise, especially since we were having a late summer, with temperatures high even now in September. I always keep a water bottle on my desk, and I sip from it constantly. I encourage the students to do the same. Primo made some comment to his sidekick Wirtz about me really wanting to 'hydrate' from his big man-hose. He pretended to try to say it only to Wirtz, but said it loud enough for everyone to hear.
Naturally I couldn't let Primo get away with it, so I went right over to his desk, and loomed over his slouched body. "Mr. Primo, you WILL behave in this class. What are you, like twelve years old?" He saw he was about ten seconds from getting detention, which he knows I WILL give him, so he backed down.
Almost immediately, his henchman Hingam asked to go to the boys room, but it was clearly just a ploy to distract me from Primo and keep the class disrupted. I immediately shut him down. "Mr. Hingam, this class is only 40 minutes long, I assume your bladder is bigger than a peanut. You can wait." Buzz smirked, but stayed. You have to keep complete control over a group like this, or there will be total anarchy, and no one will learn anything.
Before I continued the hydration talk, I said, "Mr. Primo, please see me after class for a few minutes. Fred, please stay as well." Jason scowled, but I knew he'd stay because JV football practice began shortly after this last period and he knew he'd be seeing me anyway.
At the end of the period, once everyone else had left the room, Primo and Fred came to the front of the room. Primo came right up to my desk and casually sprawled on top of it as if he owned it. I gave him a quick shove and pushed him off it. He smirked, but got the point and sat on the nearest chair. Really, between him and me, the testosterone level in the room was very high, but I'm bigger and stronger than he is, in addition to being officially in charge. I got right to the point.
"Jason, I'm afraid you're headed towards failing this class. If that happens, you're off the JV, and there's no chance you'll be on varsity next year. The paper you handed in, two days late, shows that you have no understanding of what we're doing here. And it's not that you're stupid, it's that you clearly don't care."
"Well, ya got me there, Mr. A. I think this is a bullshit class, and I can't remember all the crap in the textbook anyway. I mean, how'm I supposed to remember all those body parts in there? Besides the obvious ones I mean," he grinned, groping the pronounced outline along his left pants leg.
Fred cut in. "Page 168 has a complete diagram that makes it easy. Also, page 196 describes how the whole reproductive system works." He began quoting every word of the text from that whole page.
Primo stared. "How did you remember all that?"
"I have a photographic memory. I can remember word for word anything I read, and tell you what page it's on."
"Well, no wonder you're such a know-it-all asshole." Freddy bristled a bit at this.
I cut in. "Well, I was going to ask Fred to help you catch up with the course, but it doesn't sound like that's going to work out. Thanks for staying, Fred." Freddy, still somewhat pissed off, left the room.
I continued, "Maybe I could get your teammate Lance Albright to help you with the material."
"THAT pansy? I don't need that brown-nosing teacher's pet telling me ANYTHING. Bad enough you have him hovering around me in football. Yeah, I see what you two are doing. Everything you can to make me look bad so I don't get to start in varsity. You want HIM to get in next year and you'll do anything to keep me out."
"You know that's not true. He gets places because he's a hard worker, while you try to slide by with the minimum of effort. That won't fly in this class or on the team. I'll talk to Lance and set up a tutoring session for next week. I expect you to do your best with him if you want to pass this class and stay on the team."
Primo snorted in disgust and stormed out of the room. I could have chased him, but I let it slide. What could I do?
[Jason Primo, junior]
Yo, Jase here. I'm 16 and probably the best-looking guy in this school. I take care of myself and my body, and it really pays off with the ladies. I'm 6′3″, broad chest with great pecs, an eight-pack, big biceps, killer blond hair that I keep a little long. I'm a running back in football, I'm real good, and by rights I should be on the varsity team, but I think that damn assistant coach Atlas has sabotaged my chances, along with his pussy accomplice Lance Albright, the so-called "captain" of the JV. Fucker is only a sophomore, but he keeps trying to "help" me, under the direction of Atlas, I'm sure. I'll bet Atlas has great plans for him next year on the varsity. Probably queer for him, that's why. He's always doing exactly what Atlas tells him to do, no questions, no backtalk.
Atlas is also all over me in that stupid Men's Health class we gotta take. Along with Albright and that worthless nerd Freddy that has all the answers, Atlas is a giant pain in my otherwise fun life. If I had the chance, I'd take him out, but he's bigger than me, and outweighs me by like 50 pounds, so even if I had surprise on my side I'd probably get my ass kicked, and then maybe thrown out of school. No more chance for the varsity and then a great college team. Somehow, I've gotta do something about Atlas without giving up my obviously great future.
I think I got the break of my life two days ago. I was crashing a frat party at the local college—even though I'm only 16, I'm big and look old enough to pass for a college student if no one looks too closely—and I was eyeing a babe who was in a deep conversation with a Freddy-type nerd. I was wondering who invited HIM—he didn't look like a frat brother—and I was trying to position myself to look her over without being obvious. The nerdy guy was talking to her about his work in the psych department, where they were developing drugs to help bipolar folks stay in control. As soon as he said the word "control", my attention shifted from her hot bod to what he was saying. Seems that some of the schizos wouldn't take their meds, and so the department was secretly working on a drug that would make a person so suggestible that you could plant a command in 'em so deeply that they couldn't disobey. They might not even realize the command was there or how it got there, but they'd just naturally follow it and take their meds every day.
This nerd kept talking and my mind kept grinding away, thinking of the possibilities. In the meantime, while the hot babe was too wrapped up in the conversation to notice me, I saw that HE sure did notice me. And instead of trying to chase me away, he talked even louder as if to show off and keep me interested. And I caught him stealing looks at my body and especially down at my bulge. Figures; a faggot. Normally I'd be disgusted and walk away, but I really wanted to know more about this secret drug and how it could be used.
I mean, I'm mainly sexually attracted to girls, but what REALLY excites me is control. The idea of seizing control of and enslaving my worst enemies and biggest sports rivals turns me on much more than simply fucking a willing girl. It would also really excite me to take total control of a girl or guy that was way out of my league, maybe way richer or classier, or a celebrity, and enslaving them to my will. I occasionally fantasize about the having the hottest young stars, or most famous athletes, on their knees and totally in my power. That's why my attention was focused on what the nerd was saying, not so much on how the hot babe looked.
Eventually, the babe wandered off with a more appropriate frat-boy type, and the nerd was actually happy to be left with just me. No surprise there. He couldn't help noticing the bulge snaking further down the side of my tight jeans, and he probably thought I was getting hard thinking about him. I WAS getting hard, but it wasn't the nerd I was thinking about. I was thinking how I could use a drug like that to completely upend the hierarchy at my school. I mean, someone superior like me should naturally be at the top and all the kiss-asses should be at the bottom, LITERALLY kissing the asses of their superiors...
Nerdboy invited me to his room. As I thought, he didn't live in the frat, but in a nearby dorm. I asked him more about the drug. He seemed reluctant to talk about it, since it was clearly a top secret thing, but when I pretended to lose interest and walk away, he immediately started answering my questions, so as not to lose me. Yes, the drug was taken orally. No, they had not yet figured out the optimal dose, but it seemed a few drops were enough, although it had to be taken daily. There was no time-release version of it yet. Also, it was tasteless and colorless, and you could give it to the bipolar person in a glass of water and they wouldn't notice. It would take effect within five to ten minutes depending on body weight and metabolism, and last for only a few minutes. So you had to be quick about "inserting" your mental commands, and could only plant one or two simple commands at a time. They were working on longer-lasting version, but that was still some time away.
And yes, nerdboy did have some in his room, and he would show it to me!
Eagerly, I followed him into his room. Under his bed, hidden by a draped blanket, was a small combination safe. He opened it, and pulled out a small unmarked bottle of what looked like water. He put it back in and was about to shut the safe door when I grabbed him. He seemed excited more than frightened, I'm guessing because he thought I was about to force him into some rough sex. I outweighed him by quite a bit but he barely struggled at all when I tied his arms and legs to the corners of the bed. It was only after he was secured and I reached under the bed for the bottle that his eyes grew wide and he realized what I intended to do. Then he really struggled, but it was too late.
I held the bottle over his face. He clamped his mouth shut as tightly as he could, but I simply held his nose shut until he was forced to open his mouth to breathe. I poured in about a teaspoon full of the drug, watched him forcibly swallow, then put the cap back on the bottle and waited. Since he was a skinny guy, it took less than five minutes before a glazed look came over his eyes. I leaned over him, smiling, and began to plant a few simple commands...
A week later, I waited until the evening for my usual call from nerdboy. Without realizing it, every evening at exactly eight o'clock he would drop whatever he was doing, pull out a well-hidden prepaid cellphone bought at a drug store and not traceable to the buyer, dose himself with the drug, and call me. Each day I would learn from him the latest about the drug, and would then layer in deeper and deeper commands for him to follow. He was totally my property and didn't even realize it, didn't even remember who I was. Just the way I liked it.
My hidden prepaid cellphone rang. "Hello, Optimus Prime?" I suppressed a snigger; it's who he thought I was in his drugged state, Prime being like Primo. "Thank you for letting me help you save the planet."
I learned the following: that day he had slipped the professor directing the project some of the drug in his coffee; the professor didn't suspect a thing from his prized assistant. After a quick programming session under nerdboy's control, the professor redirected the main purpose of the secret project from helping the mentally ill to assisting me in my plan to rule my school. To save the planet, of course, LOL.
He went on. I had my bottle of the alpha version of the drug, and they were making more, but it was a slow process. Also, they had just completed testing of the beta version which was supposed to be much longer lasting, and it did truly last for several hours, but its effect was not as deep. You couldn't "insert" unbreakable commands into someone, but you could plant ideas and suggestions. I thought, that's perfect for what I need to do with most of the class. I ordered nerdboy to drive a bottle of the stuff over to me, then to forget he had done it.
The next day was D day. I got to school early and paid a little visit to Mr. A's office before he got there. As usual, it wasn't locked; he didn't have anything of value in there anyway. But there, sitting front and center on his desk, was his famous "hydrating" water bottle. Since Mr. A is a big, built guy, I put more of the fluid in his bottle than I had used on the college nerd. Then I waited in the hallway around the corner for Mr. A's arrival. I knew when he would get there since he came in at the exact same time every day. You know, one of those anal types. Soon to be transformed by me into a REAL anal type, if everything went according to my plan. But because of the limiting nature of the fluid's time frame, I would have to make his transformation gradually, a step by step descent into the total humiliation he deserved.
I also knew I had to make certain that it appeared that I had nothing to do with it. I'm 16, which in this state means I'd be responsible as an adult if I got caught, so I had to arrange things such that the changes I made were some else's doing. And I had just the candidate: know-it-all Freddy could be the fall guy. I could even use the fluid to make him believe the whole thing was his idea! And his photographic memory could be really useful for having him remember hours' worth of instructions. Then I could put him in seemingly total control of Mr. A's class, and he could do my dirty work for me without realizing who was making him do it.
The idea of controlling people, with them not realizing they're being controlled, is SUPER exciting to me. That way, no one is exactly sure where they stand in the "pecking order", who they can order around, and who can order THEM around. And I can reverse their positions at any time without them knowing. The boss can suddenly find himself the slave, the underling can knock down and dominate his previous superior... and it can all feel normal! And all under my control!
Finally, I saw Mr. A arrive. Through the glass portion of his door, I saw him take a deep swig from his water bottle. After nearly ten minutes, I saw him try to focus on what he was reading, and shake his head a few times. Time for my entrance.
"Good morning, Mr. A!" He seemed surprised that I was there, naturally, since he normally wouldn't see me until the afternoon class. At the same time, he was shaking his head as if trying to clear it, and his eyes were glazing over the same way the college nerd's had in his dorm room. I knew it was time...
[OK, time for Mr. Primo to begin rewiring his teacher's brain. We'll see the results of Round 1 in the next part. Emails welcome, although since I can't get to a secure internet spot where I'm working, it may be awhile before you hear back.]