O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

Pecking Order 4

by webb025

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[Master Fred, commander of the Men's Health Class]

Today's lesson was on clothing fetishes. The articles of clothing I was going to use sat on the teacher's desk, that is to say MY desk, since Slave John had long since given up any authority he had over the class and now functioned as my assistant and occasional demonstration toy, the same way a magician might use a beautiful girl assistant. His incredible sculpted body remained on call, usually naked, at the side of the room.

The lesson was a bit nontraditional. Unbeknownst to the class, they had been specially 'programmed' with the fetishes using the alpha version of the behavior fluid in the first five minutes, and then ordered to forget that they had been programmed. So they had no idea of what was going to happen during the demonstration, and would understand the full effect of the fetishes.

For the first demonstration, I selected a fairly undistinguished kid named Edwin. A sophomore, Edwin was a bit below average in every way: looks, height, strength, athleticism, taste in clothes. His mousey brown hair was cut somewhat carelessly by some guy in the mall who obviously didn't see the need to make much of an effort. No one would ever pick Edwin out from a crowd.

But on the desk was a pair of "magic" biker boots, magic only because of the way the minds of the class had been warped by the programming. Once Edwin climbed onto the desk, put on the magic boots and stood cockily upright, hands on his hips and a smirk on his face, the cocks of every guy in the class started to rise. Soon they were all pumping away, imagining themselves rubbing their cocks along Edwin's boots, staring worshipfully up into his arrogant, dominant expression. For fun, I had even included Slave John in the programming. It was funny because the cock he was stroking was even longer than the boots he was dreaming of worshiping.

After a good long demonstration, I called a halt to it. I couldn't let the class cum because there were still several articles of clothing left to show. Since Edwin was gay, to thank him for the demonstration I let him keep the boots, along with two large straight senior jocks who remained as his boot slaves. They followed him back to his desk and dropped to the floor at his feet, grateful for being permitted to worship their new bootmaster. After school they would go home with him and do whatever he commanded, desperate to be allowed to remain at his feet.

Next came a jockstrap worn by Jason Primo. Jason is the most sexually desirable guy in the class. Everyone in the class somehow knew this. At first I thought it a bit odd that every single person in the class would think this about the same person, but then when he smiled at me I realized that it WAS obviously objectively true.

Anyhow, this jockstrap had been dyed fluorescent orange so it could be easily identified at a distance. And basically what happened was that anyone putting on the jockstrap "became" Jason Primo to the class, causing everyone to want to suck him off. I had a number of different guys climb onto the desk and put on the jockstrap—tall ones, short ones, fat ones, skinny ones—superhung ones and "pimple-hung" ones—and every time, each member of the class was overcome with the desire to wrap his throat around the holy cock that happened to occupy Jason's jock at that moment.

When it was over, I gave the magic jockstrap to Percy, as a reward for having enslaved his father and forced him to develop the bluetooth obedience ear implants that would soon be controlled by an app on people's smartphones. And if they didn't have a smartphone, they would be given one—free—along with a generous plan of enslavement-minutes. Weren't they lucky! In the meantime, anyone from the class seeing little nerdy pimply Percy in that jockstrap would start to salivate and would want to engulf Percy's (to the victim's mind) gorgeous nerdcock down his throat.

For the day's final demonstration, I called in Officer Haslett, the policeman assigned by the town to handle security at the school. Over the years, he had come to know who the troublemakers were, and kept a close eye on them, threatening them with serious discipline if things got out of hand. He had a particular history with Buzz Hingam, having caught him the previous year sabotaging a geeky kid's science project. Hingam had been suspended for a week as a result. That little history gave me the idea for this demonstration.

Haslett came storming into the room, to find Buzz Hingam standing in the front of the room, totally naked, large flaccid cock hanging there obscenely for all to see. "You!" shouted Haslett. "Hingam! What the f... I mean, what the HELL are you doing?" The officer stormed over towards Hingam, reched out to grab him, and then—

Hingam said just one word: "Freeze!" And suddenly Haslett was frozen in position. Unbeknownst to him, his morning coffee had been treated with alpha, and he had been pre-programmed to obey Hingam. Naturally, he knew nothing of this, and was baffled and mortified at what was happening.

"Attention!" commanded Hingam, and Haslett stiffened accordingly, clearly frightened by this turn of events.

Hingam smiled and went on. "Your only source of authority is your uniform, 'Officer'. Mine is THIS," he said, grabbing his sizable cock, which began to fatten and expand in his grip. "But soon I'll have BOTH sources of authority in my possession!" He reached out and snatched the officer's cap, and put it on his own head.

Officer Haslett gasped. He felt weakened, and could actually feel some of his authority slip away and over to Hingam.

"Now the jacket and pants." One by one, Hingam began to remove each part of the officer's uniform and put it on himself. Haslett was forced to cooperate with Hingam's removal of his shoes, socks and pants. Since they were both big guys, the uniform fit Hingam fine. As each piece came off him and went onto Hingam, Haslett could feel his power draining into the bully. As he donned the uniform pants, Hingam opened the fly and let his huge erect cock point straight ahead towards the steadily weakening officer.

"Please..." whispered Haslett hoarsely. "Please don't strip me of my... authority... my... dignity..."

Hingam smiled broadly and snapped his fingers. Immediately, the two freshmen who normally serve as my cum cleanup crew ran up and began tearing off the officer's remaining underclothes, and pushed him naked to his knees before the powerful Hingam, now completely in the cop's uniform.

"Your dignity? You have no dignity. You don't even deserve your IDENTITY! Hey, I've got a great idea! You are now 'Officer Asslick', and you work for ME, 'Sergeant Hungman'! Say it!"

Helplessly, the kneeling officer repeated, "I am... Officer Asslick... I work for you... Sergeant Hungman..."

Hingam continued to smile broadly. "You'll continue to patrol the school, but you'll do it on MY orders and for MY benefit! You'll help me with shakedowns, breaking into lockers, whatever I say. You'll ignore it when I'm bullying little wusses, or even take my side while I'm doing it. And you'll go around with the irresistible need to lick my ass. Like right now, you need it so bad it's all you can think about, right?" And to his horror, Haslett realized it was true.

"Well, sorry, I don't feel like taking this uniform off right now, I like the way it feels. But my magnificent powercock here could use some real motivated sucking. And if you do a good job, I might just let your tongue into my ass. Whaddaya say?" Before he could even finish the sentence, Haslett dove for Hingam's cock. Although he had never sucked a cock it before, soon his head was bobbing in and out furiously on the impressive schlong. Hingam slapped him hard in the face a couple of times for what he claimed was tooth contact, but was really just because he felt like doing it.

Not long afterwards, Hingam pushed Haslett, or I guess Asslick, away and painted the cop's face with shot after shot of bully cum. Haslett tried to wipe it away until Hingam ordered him to leave it on his face.

"Okay, Officer Asslick, I think you should take the rest of the day off, go home and jerk off the whole rest of the day thinking about licking my ass. No cumming, though. Good thing you're not married, and now I guess you never will be.

"At 7, come over to my house, you know where it is. And wear your other uniform. My little brother will love having a uniformed cop to order around, before I take your ass. See ya!" And with that, the naked Officer Haslett ran out of the room to his patrol car, drove the back roads to his home, and began his afternoon of Sergeant Hungman's commanded sexual activity.

[Lance Albright, cocksucker-in-training]

I got home from school, panting since it was a hot day. When would the hot weather end? Drinking the last of the water in the fridge, I refilled and replaced it, then went up to my room. After a few minutes, I saw my little brother Ron standing in the doorway, surprisingly wearing his boy scout uniform. I found myself immediately walking towards him, kneeling before him, and staring at his shoes.

"Why... why did I do that?"

Ron smiled cruelly. "So it worked! That swig of what you thought was water down there was really obedience drink. I was inspired by what I heard about your health class today, the thing about clothing fetishes. So while you were under, I made it so when you see someone in a scout uniform, you immediately want to kneel before them and serve them."

"But... I'm straight! We're both straight!"

"I didn't say SEXUALLY serve them, just follow their orders. I thought it would be funny since most of them are younger than you. Hey, just be grateful I didn't enslave you to anyone in a CUB scout uniform," he laughed.

I wasn't at all amused. "Why can't I get up?"

"Because I haven't given you permission. You'll keep staring at my shoes until I give you an order to do something, or tell you you're allowed to look up. Pretty cool, huh?"

I pleaded with him. "Please, please don't do this. I would never use the obedience drink on YOU..."

He smirked. "I know. It was the first unbreakable command I planted in you. You couldn't do it if you tried!"

I went on, "You used to be a real good kid. You helped people, protected them from bullies, worked hard at school. What happened?" There was a spot of gunk on one of his running shoes. It took all the willpower I could muster not to lean down and lick the shoe clean. How deeply in me did he implant that need to serve?

"I dunno, I guess I just thought that the old me was kinda lame. I realized it when I was talking to Jase about changing my eagle scout project, from that stupid bird rescue thing, to enslaving my whole scout troop. I already have the scoutmaster under my control, and he's going to help me capture the rest of 'em."

"Jase? You mean Jason Primo? How do you know HIM? He's two grades ahead of you! And why would you want to enslave your scout troop? I thought you had Jen to take care of you sexually!" Jen was my old girlfriend, until Ron took her away.

"There you are thinking sexual enslavement again. I don't want them sexually, I just want them to realize that they should conduct their whole lives entirely for MY benefit, that's all. Plus, some of them have really HOT sisters they could program as gifts for me! Wouldn't you enjoy watching Slave Orgy Night from a front-row seat? The girls could work on each other when they're not working on me! Maybe I could even have one or two of them working on YOU! That's more than you ever got from Jen!"

"What ABOUT Jen? Aren't you two together anymore?"

"It was kinda difficult to explain to her that I could never go out with her, because at 8 o'clock every night I was required to 69 with my big brother to perfect my cocksucking skills. So I 'slutified' her and let her go."

"Slutified?"

"I used a bit of obedience drink on her, and now Little Miss 'No Sex Until Marriage' can't say 'no' to anyone who asks her for sex. In fact, if she goes a day or two without getting laid, she has to find someone, anyone, for sex, no matter how repulsive."

"That's... that's horrible!"

"Nah, I did her a favor. Got rid of years of hidden frustration that she didn't even know about. Okay, I see you staring at that brown spot on my left shoe. Clean it off, then you can get up and do your homework."

His command instantly broke my ability to resist. I licked the disgusting gunk spot clean, then got up and walked to my desk as Ron went back to his room.

How had it come to this? How had Ron become my absolute master, and what did Jason Primo have to do with all this?

[Slave John, known in public as John Atlas, teacher]

I got to my office this morning as usual, took my normal drink from the water bottle, and sat down to look over Master Fred's lesson plan for the day, and help him polish it up. Today's was on spankings, whippings, canings and beatings, and how far you should go with each person, depending on whether you wanted to leave no marks, or just no visible marks, or if you didn't care how fucked up the punishee looked like afterwards. As I wondered who Fred might pick to demonstrate each of these cases on, I must have dozed off, because when I was startled awake, I saw the Gonzales twins sprawled on chairs in fron of my desk, their flip-flops discarded on the floor and their giant feet on top of the desk.

I felt a slight buzz in the back of my brain, and somehow I knew that my relationship with them had changed in some way, that their power had increased and mine had declined big-time, but how did that happen? Had someone spiked my water bottle again? And why did I feel the need to leave it out and accessible all the time when I now knew the risks?

I tried putting on a brave front. "Can I help you?"

Juan—I think it was Juan, I wasn't sure which twin was which, smiled a bit cruelly. "Of course you can help us. In fact, you have no real choice, do you, pretty boy?" And deep inside, I knew he was right, which I found horrifying. Me, totally at the mercy of these thick-muscled, tattooed teen gangbangers? With their huge feet on my desk, they wiggled their toes in the air and for some reason my attention became completely focused on them.

The other twin said, "We know you're a big guy, much taller than us, and with those big, body-building muscles. But we know that those are just for show, right? That's not what makes a MAN, you know that, right?" What he was saying was registering at some deep level in me, but I couldn't take my eyes off those feet. I was at least eight inches taller than these boys, yet their feet were at least two sizes bigger than mine. Why was I even THINKING about that? What had these two done to me while I was zoned out?

The first twin said, "Being a man is about WILLPOWER. Ours is strong, yours is weak. Some guys just expect to be obeyed, others just have to do what they're told to do. You know that's true, right?"

As I stared at his feet, I got the deep-seated feeling that what he said was true. At the same time, I realized that whatever the twins had done to me under the influence of the alpha fluid, it clearly had something to do with their feet. I now knew that those feet gave them total authority to give me commands that I could not refuse to obey. But even knowing that this weakness had been planted in me artificially didn't reduce its potency.

The other twin continued: "You may be tall, but we're really big in all the IMPORTANT places," he said, reaching down into his lap and beginning a stroking motion. I couldn't see down there from across the desk, but I already knew that the cocks and balls on these arrogant teen twins had my well-above-average man-sized equipment beat in both length and thickness. And they were probably still growing!

"We came by to thank you for your gift from last week. We know we're not exactly teacher's pets, but we do enjoy keeping teachers AS pets." Then he shouted, "Get in here, pigslave, NOW!"

The door opened, and in came Drew, the short, skinny, fussy, rules-oriented English teacher that I'd avoided since I got the feeling he had a crush on me, but who then witnessed the activities in my men's health class and tried to blackmail me into letting him into the action. I'd responded by enslaving him to the Gonzales twins—where had THAT idea come from, anyway?—and he had seemed quite happy with the prospect.

But here he was now with a completely blank expression on his face, as if he were in a trance of some sort. Somehow in my mind, this scene seemed familiar, only with different people now in charge. Or maybe, the thought briefly crossed my mind, the same person might actually be controlling everything both times, he just wasn't physically in the room either time.

"We've enjoyed using this maricon every day since you gave him to us. In fact, with some help we were able to share him with our entire gang. Shirt off," he commanded, and Drew mindlessly took off his shirt, revealing a large tattoo across his chest saying "Property of LATIN LORDS".

I started to look over the rest of him, but then one of the twins wiggled his toes again, and my attention was forced immediately back to the twins' powerful feet.

"You don't wanna look at his scrawny ass right now, since it got a little tore up after like 30 or 40 members of our club fucked it pretty hard at our, erm, 'suggestion'. We think it needs some time to heal."

The other twin said, "But we felt a little bad, you know with all the bleeding and whatever, so we decided to give little Drew-boy here a gift. After all, we take good care of our pets. And you know, he's wanted you for quite a while. So we thought we'd bring you over to his place, I mean OUR place, so you can be HIS pet for a few days."

The first twin, to his tranced slave: "So whadda ya think, Drew-boy? How do you want him? If we turn him into your pet cat, he'd be very athletic and graceful, purr when you pet him, and lap your boy-milk directly from the source."

The other twin: "If we make him your pet dog, he'd follow at your heels, sniff your butt, and be loyal and want to please you all the time."

"Of course, we could change him into your pet lizard, and he would just crawl around on his belly flicking his lizard-tongue wherever you ordered him to." As the twins mentioned these possibilities, Drew still seemed to be in a trance, although a smile seemed to cross his face briefly.

"Well, Johnny-boy, you come over to our place tonight and we'll figure out what to do with you. At night we usually keep Drew-boy on the floor by our bed, but sometimes as a special treat we let him spend the night in the bathtub, and then we use the bathtub as a toilet. And no matter what we 'deposit' in there, it's Drew-boy's job to make sure the tub is spotless by the time we leave for school the next morning, or he gets severely punished."

"That's what happened this morning, so after the beating we gave him a 'special' drink and told him he couldn't feel the pain, so that he could sit long enough to drive us here. So he's a little out of it right now. But we'll turn him back to normal before his first class."

"Anyway, you WILL be there tonight, right?" And as I stared helplessly at their giant symbols of masculinity and authority resting on the desktop, I knew I would be.

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[Next: Jason selects an unwitting human "tool" to help with his plan to subjugate his rivals and become the varsity quarterback. 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.]

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