BMOC: Black Mage on Campus, Chapter 7: A Season in HELL—Part 6

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Psycho and Julio came around about twice a day now. I didn’t tell Morrible or anyone else about my dick sucking appointments. I barely admitted it to myself. It was a humiliating secret… and addiction that I developed and fed quietly. I refused to think about it. Thinking about it made me feel like a dirty pussy… but doing it felt so good. It was the only thing that made the need go away. A pattern began.

Morrible stopped showing up as much. We became accustomed to our workouts and isolation. The Guards became more lenient. My days began to blur. All of us were pretty much given free reign of the facility. I guess they weren’t worried about us acting out again. Maybe the other guys had had a visit from Lucky too… God the thought of it sent chills down my spine… and my dick… We were all very well behaved prisoners.

We were allowed to hang-out and speak to each other freely. None of us did though. We all kept to ourselves and tried to use the work-out room when it was empty.

We were all avoiding each other. Each of us ashamed at what we had let happen… me mostly because I was disgusted by how quickly they all crumbled.

Buck was now totally Bambi. I had seen him mincing up and down the halls, obviously stuffed with a buttplug and giggling happily to himself.

Whiteboy refused to do anything but smoke Pot and hang with the Black Guards who were his permanent company now.

…and Abe … well Abe was just gone. He had completely become Rocko now. And he liked it. At first I thought he was getting into the role. But now every time I saw him, all he would do is flex and put me down.

Then try and fuck me.

I was finishing up a set of Lat-Pull downs when suddenly Rocko was behind me holding the bar to my chest, “Dat All You can manage lil guy?” He asked in his guttural mumble.

“Get off me.” I ordered through gritted teeth.

His gargantuan body pressed into me and he pinned me with the machines weight, “C’mon Lil guy… You gotta lift HEAVY if ya wanna Git SWOLL.” He finally released me and I fell off the Lat Bench onto the floor. “If Ya Wanna Git big like me, ya gotta push Dat WEIGHT!” He struck a truly impressive double bicep and then swiftly followed it with a most muscular pose. He was again only wearing a pair of Green, White and Red Posing briefs. They were the colors of the Italian flag. His hair had grown back a little and he now sported a Shiny, plastic looking black Puff of Gelled Hair, it stood straight-up from the rest of his shaved skull.

His body was hairless, oiled up and deeply tan. His Posers were tenting… I started to get worried…“C’mon Abe… your too smart for this…”

Rocko didn’t even acknowledge I spoke, “If you want to Git Swoll Like Dis,” He continued to gloat, “You Gotta do da werk.” The giant tanned bodybuilding colossus hit a wide Lat Spread, his big retarded face grimacing in a stage pose grin. He gave

me an angry and vain sneer, “You wanna touch deez gunz pussyboy?” He jeered. His dick was hard and poking out of his posers, shadowed by the distended roid gut. “You want me to fuck you? Lil guys love it when I fuck ‘em.” It had been quite a long time since I had been raped. I had gotten very used to doing the fucking. If this huge muscle beast got the upper-hand on me…

“No…” I answered, backing away slowly. I remembered dimly that you shouldn’t make sudden moves in front of large animals. IT draws there attention.

“OF COURSE YOU DO!” He laughed, thumbing his dick, while he watched me shrink away. “Er’ybody wants ta feel deez gunnz…” He lovingly and awkwardly rubbed his bloated bicep peaks, “dat lil sissy Bambi… He loves ta sit on my lap and bounce his pussy while I bounce deez pecs…” He did a quick Pec Flex and bounce. It made his striated chest move like two parked cars… “Dat lil Wigga Whiteboy love ta lick deez big quadz…” He shook his quad muscle showing me it’s absurd girth… “Even dat freak irish bruisa wants all dis man Flexin’ on him…” He hit his double bicep, “Ain’t no body can turn down my Dumb Boner.” He made his dick jump in his little underwear.

My mouth watered.

Well, I guess he got his revenge. The biggest loser in the Box, was the biggest Top here. He had all the guys who beat him, showing up for daily muscleworship sessions. He sauntered toward me with his musclebound akimbo swagger, his dumb face alight with playful sexuality. “Abe you’ve got to listen to me…”

“Who da fuck is Abe?” He asked, “Sounds Like a fag’s name.” That at least made him pause.

“You are. You are Abe Romero. You’re a PHD. Your Smart.” I parroted back his original sentiment of defiance.

He seemed confused for a minute, then barked like a robot, “My Name Is Rocko Dumbono. I M A Bodybillder. I Luv 2 Fuk n workout.” He shook his meaty head and continued to advance.

I was almost to the door… “No you’re not… your name is…”

“AHHH SHIT Lil guy… you’s is dumb, like me! I Like dat.” He laughed. He began to move slowly toward me, but mercifully stopped. He bent his huge ass over and dug through a gym bag he brought into the athletic facility with him. He rummaged through used vials, prescription containers, syringes, lifting straps and finally retrieved a muscular fitness magazine, “See Lil guy… Dat’s ME!!!” He gloated egotistically. He tossed the magazine at me. It was covered in white lifting chalk.

There was a double page spread on New Pro- Bodybuilder Rocko Dumbono… an Italian Bodybuilder from New Jersey. There were several shots of “Rocko” lifting heavy Legs. Rocko squatting 450lbs. Rocko deadlifting 560. Rocko Curling 70lb dumbbells… sticking his tongue out and mugging at the camera… ….however he was doing all this, in this very gym. Even to my sedated and exhausted mind, it was a bad Photoshop job. Dr. Heart or Morrible… or Both, obviously mocked up the magazine spread to further confuse Abe… there was a whole article quoting ROCKO on training tips and his plans for his next contest. If this was enough to fool the former PHD, his brain must be mashed potatoes…

“See lil Guy I FUCKING DOMINATE. I’m Rocko Dumbono! But like da mag says, ery’body calls me Rocko Dumbonor! Cuz I m dumb and always have a boner!” He hit a most muscular again, laughing proudly. “Bet you beggin ta git tagged by me now?”

“Sure…” I measured the length from me to the door… “but first could you ah… Rep out a couple sets with the 70’s for me…”

Rocko’s dull eyes filled with childlike excitement, “Oh lil guy likes watching da gun show…” he turned his massive body around and lumbered toward the free weights… “Alright lil guy… I’ll give you da gun show… den I’m gonna pound your butt…” looking at him waddle away I felt the familiar treacherous need in my throat. I shoved my thumb in my mouth angrily. I didn’t want my fucking sick little hobby getting me into trouble with this huge meathead.

I threw the magazine down and moved to the door….

I risked one last glance of Rocko. He moved to a bench and was sitting down facing me. His shiny posers were tented from his little erection. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. Shit… I could feel that familiar need in my throat. I wanted out of there but my traitorous mouth was already watering. Rocko was lost in exertion and self-love, grunting and watching his biceps peak and relax, alternating curls from one arm to another.

His Posers glistened and twitched.

I slipped my thumb out of my mouth.

Instead of moving for the door I moved for Rocko.

He was oblivious to me as I knelt down in front of him. I rubbed my hands against the tanned expanse of his distended rocky gut.

“EWW YEAH, lil guy.” He rumbled. “Go on. Pump dat big muscle dick. You know you want to taste Rocko… Get all that hot muscle juice in your belly… Make You grow up big and strong like Rocko…. C’mon.” He kept repping out, “Drink my musclemilk.” His thick immobile thighs shook, “Oh yeah Suck dat Dumb Boner!”

I forced my head between his huge thighs, squirming my way between his bloated legs. I got his dick in my mouth. I was frustrated that his position and absurd muscular made it hard to get the whole thing in my mouth. It just teased the need in the back of my throat. His cock was rough and rigid. He dropped the weights and grabbed the bench. FUCK! I could feel be giving him a hair trigger or something. I had barely got my lips wet and now they were leaking his muscle jizz.

That wasn’t even worth the fucking time.

“Oh yeah… You like how that Dumb boner taste…?” He mumbled sleepily… He grabbed me hard and pulled me close to his chest. It was like being hugged by a

gorilla. “You gonna love it even more when I shove this musclecock in you little butt. You’re going to be my leg workout today lil, guy.”

I started to squirm and wriggled out of his grip.

Sucking that Roided up moron’s dick had been a total disappointment but I wasn’t going to let that buffalo get on top of me and smash his huge body against mine.

I pulled the posers quickly down to his kneecaps and bolted.

He reacted quickly, well quickly for a musclebound retard, and followed me. His kneecaps twisted in the elastic of his posers and with a look of startled confusion he fell forward. Rocko hitting the ground was so loud and hard that the weight benches shook. “HEY,” he yelled, “Where you goin… I haven’t fucked you yet! You gonna miss me fucking you! Lil guy, you gotta come back…”

I ran down the hall.

I suddenly wished that Psycho or one of the guards were with me. Now that we were given freedom, I didn’t have any protection. Fuck, I didn’t think I needed any.

I slowed down, realizing Rocko wasn’t following me. He probably got to caught up in the mirror. At Least the fucking lummox was easy to outwit....

I passed Whiteboy’s room. Loud rap music and the heady smell of marijuana wafted from the open door. Whiteboy’s door was always open. His room was visited by a stream of gang members and large black men. It was a constant never ending party. I could hear the music and the hard heavy laughs of Whiteboy’s “crew” all the time.

Whiteboy was sitting in a chair while two large black guys drew on his pale skin with tattoo guns. Another big man passed the young looking man a bong that he hit without stopping the tattoo artists from their work. His smile was lecherous and content.

I could see that most his body was now ornamented with Pot Leaves, gang signs, Rap lyrics and various contraband. “Damn Ya’ll you guyz got da Ill Skillz.”

He moaned as the Tattoo guns whirred around him. “I’m a half to fuck ya twice as hard ta thank ya….” He laughed. They laughed. He hit the bong again.

I hurried away, shaking my head. I was two doors away from my room and was praying to get there without another distraction for my ever hard erect super dick.

“Ohhh…. Doctor Heart…” I heard Bambi’s sultry voice echo, from his open door.

I quietly tried to creep by the open room unobserved… but morbid curiosity got the better of me. Bambi lay on his bed, his buff body tense and trembling in pleasure, as Doctor Heart slowly shoved a big pink dildo in and out of him.

Buck… er Bambi’s big eyes were sealed tight in ecstasy. He laid on his back with his legs wrapped around Doctor Hearts Shoulders. He fucked himself up and down on the glossy pink plastic phallus.

“That’s a good boy.” He gave Bambi’s huge swollen nipple a tug. Bambi giggled with joy. Buck continued giggling with a pleasant sublime smile as Dr. Heart pinched and tickled the big distended areolas of his huge pec’s. The hairy chested bimbo spoke in a dreamy high pitched purr, “My name is Bambi, and I am going to be the perfect trophy for my man.” His young cock jutted lewdly out of the silly panties that clung to his masculine hard-bodied glutes.

“That’s very good Bambi.” Dr. Heart said.

“I want bigger pec implant’s! My man likes my big tits and I want the biggest tit muscles in town. I want him to see my big pec’s and know I made them huge for HIM!” Bambi rolled his head back and forth in pleasure, pressing himself farther down on the length of the dildo.

“…and why is that Bambi,” Dr. Heart prodded further. He twisted the big nipples harder making Buck’s cock bounce against his taunt abdomen and jingling his belly button ring. Dr. Heart’s voice was so soothing. Bambi didn’t seem to even be conscious as Dr. Heart played with his hole, like he was in a trance or something…

“Because I want to please him. I want to show him how much I love him for saving me.” Bambi’s silly voice whined. His legs pumped up and down under Dr. Heart’s nipple torture. His macho face twisted in girlish bliss. “He wants me to be his big chested,

silly house fag and I want to… I want too… I want….”

His big muscled body convulsed as his hard cock began to spit cum all over his tanned abs, without anyone touching it.

Doctor Heart Leaned down and gave Bambi a kiss on the forehead, “That was very good, Bambi. I’m very proud. Now Sleep.”

I felt my legs buckle under me when the Dr. said sleep and fell to the floor…


…I awoke in my room and Doctor Heart was there. he pleasantly handed me a protein shake. “Sorry about that Leo.” He said conversationally. “I didn’t know you were watching.” He gave me a playful paternal jab and wink, “I Didn’t know you were a little voyeur,”

“What happened,” I mumbled, sitting up.

He shrugged, “You heard me give Bambi a post- hypnotic command and you responded to it.”

“A what?”

Heart seemed to consider something and then said, “Post-hypnotic command. I integrate it into all my patients. A former boyfriend of mine… Steve… taught me that different modulations of voice and intonation can trigger powerful responses in well trained subjects.”

I gave the handsome and caring man a disbelieving look. “Well that fat Bitch, said Hypnosis is a joke,”

“Dr. Morrible can be a bit aggravating.” He shrugged, “She thinks she knows everything.” He gave me a conspiratorial wink… like we had just had ice cream cones without telling mom… “It’s good that you boys and I have some secrets, right?”

He was being so nice to me. Doctor Heart was always so understanding. I had to try and reason with him. “Doctor Heart, You have to stop her. You can’t even begin to imagine what she’s doing to Rocko… to Wesley…” TO ME!!! I wanted to scream, “it’s inhuman.”

“Whiteboy.” Corrected the Doctor chidingly. “His name is Whiteboy… He chose it himself.”

“To Whiteboy… Whatever… She drove him crazy. Rocko is a retard… She might as well kill them… it’d be more humane…”

Doctor Heart stood up.

I suddenly felt very small and frightened as I took in his full masculine build and height. His fatherly eyes were concerned, “I told you before, Leo. We only resort to patient elimination as a last desperate alternative. It rarely, if ever happens.” He gave me a reassuring pat on my pale muscled thigh. “Doctor Morrible may be somewhat …” he paused, looking for the right word, “Exuberant …but there is no one better at forcing a psychotic break than she is.”

Pyschotic Break? “That’s what all this humiliation and torture is about.” I asked flatly.

Heart’s fatherly face was solemn, and he put a comforting hand on my shoulder, “Yes, It’s the only way to get you boys to accept … that for better or worse… this is your new life. As Morrible has explained to me...” His facial expression grew dark,” … at some length… After a patient suffers a Psychotic break, they create an alternate personality to cope with the trauma, as an emotional defense. Her procedures are designed to structure that new personality and make the patient accept that, as their “new” identity.”

“So Whiteboy will be so fucked up at the end of this, that he won’t remember being Wesley and will just think of himself as Whiteboy? The hood-rat cell- block whore?” I said skeptically, as I guzzled my drink.

“He won’t want to remember Wesley.” Doctor Heart told me in a voice like Flint. “The trauma of recent events and the shock of his new body and face will be enough to sever him completely from the identity. How could he cope with the LSD, the sleep deprivation, the repetitive anal and prostate stimulation, the THC, the degradation…” Hearts smile was proud, “the Gluteous Implants, the Face Lift, the dramatic weight loss, and the tattoo’s…” Heart looked me directly in the eye.

For some reason at his direct glance, my dragon sprung to attention. “How could he suffer all this, and still see Assistant District Attorney Wesley Simon: The Pompous, Elitist, influential man he once was? Whiteboy won’t remember Wesley because it will be too painful. Whiteboy will just adapt to his new life. He already finds a great amount of pleasure in smoking weed and playing video games.” Doctor Heart considered the statement, “In a lot of ways I’ve done that social climbing Prick a favor, He’s very content to enjoy the simple pleasures in life now.” He gave me his soulful empathetic smile… “but don’t take it from me… ask him yourself…”

At This, Whiteboy emerged from the corridor. He was wearing a tight white wifebeater, baggy Sweat Pants and a backward ball-cap emblazoned with a marijuana leaf. His tight fatless torso and muscles strained with tattoos. He gave Doctor Heart a dopey grin, “These threads is sick… my crew gonna shit…when they see me.”

Doctor Heart Grinned, “I’m glad you like them. I’ll just give you to boys sometime to talk.” He patted me on the shoulder affectionately and left.

Whiteboy gave me a suspicious Stare, “Hey do I know you?”

“Wesley, it’s Leo… We were in the Box… We were in therapy…”

Whiteboy gave me an angry look and fumbled in his pockets for his bowl, “I don’t know no Wesley, and I sure as shit ain’t want to rap about no box.” He took a deep hit, filling the room with smoke.

My own terror at what was ultimately happening to me, forced me to try and reason with the former Lawyer.

“Yes you do!” I roared. “ Stop smoking your retard weed for half a fucking second and listen to me…”

“Fuckin Scope out whad dey Fuckin Played on me bitch!” Wes yelled back at me. “Dey done jacked my shit bad!” His fatless lithe frame contorted frustratedly and his hands swung in wide immature gestures of uncontained rage. “Cheese on it you silly fuck!” He got so angry one of his wildly flailing hands knocked of his ballcap.

Leo thought back to when they put Assistant District Attorney Wesley Simon into the “BOX”. He was a well groomed, domineering man of iron will and restraint. His dark black hair was slicked into a neat side part and the lines on his face made him seem older then his 33 years. He was ruggedly handsome and impressive, even when he was naked and shivering. He had broad shoulders, a heavy chest, and little belly from to many rich dinners climbing his way to prominence in the DA’s office. To see what the time, conditioning and augmentation had done to the once stoic and resolute would be politician was uncanny. The longs hours of running had leaned out his thick frame to rope-like tendrils of corded muscle. His wide frame had been emaciated down to a vulpine and lanky size, that made his muscles seem like small mountains. Every inch of his pampered and admired body was now a toned map of the human musculature. He was whip thin and muscled… like an athlete… like a basketball player would be.

The surgeries had been quite affective in forever erasing the reflection of Wesley Simon’s face. The harsh lines of wisdom and experience had been washed away like sand by the facelift. His face was as smooth and unblemished as a teenager. In fact he looked,

despite being 33, like a punk kid of 18, with his now unlined mask of innocence. His expressions were even more exaggerated by the supernatural gauntness of his features.

His 6’2 height seemed taller and longer, with his emaciated and ripped form. It made him a muscled flagpole.

Despite his height, he seemed immature and gawky.

He really did look like a young kid, too. Of course the facelift had included a brow lift that gave him an impossibly innocent look of surprise. His innocence was decorated with a slick Ghetto Style. He sported a dark pencil-thin Jaw-line Beard and Goatee, and his dark hair was shaved to stubble. His short fuzz was groomed and faded with a meticulous hand, and stupid designs were shaved into the sides.

He wore a blue bandana around his temples and a small tear drop tattoo accented his stoned eyes. They had obviously given him other facial work as well. The mouth that had once been a masculine slit of determination and pride that had once been the weapon of justice, was now pouty and full. The lips that sent so many criminals to jail, had been augmented to ridiculous proportions. His lips seemed “natural” but the collagen and stretching had made them HUGE.

His lips however were tame compared to what they had done to his…

“YOU FINK I’M PLAYIN BITCH!!? FUCKING… scope on my Fucking trunk!” He turned showing the enormous ass that swelled absurdly in the sweat pants. His ass was

HUGE. He slipped down the elastic of his baggy boxers and tried, unsuccessfully to grasp his now mammoth ass cheeks in his thin fingers. He barely held half a cheek in each hand. The flesh of the massive implants was pale and unblemished. Huge round globes of meat, that jiggled and swayed obscenely. Two beach balls of fuckable manflesh, hung pert and ready onto his lower back. The Sweats were sliding off him now, unable to stay up over the massive protrusion.

I noted with disgust that Wes was getting hard at his own fondling. The tiny hands gripped the gigantic butt then fondled its massive curves. Finally he started playfully slapping its juicy ripe flesh.

“Shit nigga I got a Booty Bigga’ den Detroit.” He growled. His hairless cock was now ramrod hard and his right hand gripped it hungrily as his left kept stroking his ridiculous augmented butt. He kicked off the Sweats and baggy White Boxers. His long hairy runners’ legs, only served to showcase his massive supple ass cheeks. He moved both hands to his giant ass and gave me a flirty look as he groped.

We were all always so horny. It was our first reaction to everything. When did that happen and why didn’t I notice.

Whiteboy climbed onto the bed with me. He straddled me like a two-dollar whore. His handsome, youthful face had a lustful mischief on it. “You Got a Cock Longa den the Brooklyn Bridge.”

He pulled down my silly Capcom Underwear and released my dragon. It was of course angry and ready. He licked his big pouty lips and dove down on to the tip. I made no effort to fight him. Having the big engorged head of my humungous cock, bob in and out of those humongous lips…felt to good. I leaned back, grabbed my sheets and enjoyed the ride. He grabbed the straps of his wifebeater, displaying his tight hairy pecs and the dozens of inky blue tattoos. He braced himself with a hungry grunt and lowered his giant enormous butt onto my enormous dong. HOLYSHIT! I lurched forward and grabbed him tightly by the waist. His ass was tight, but it swallowed my cock easily. I gasped as hot flesh enclosed on my shaft. Whiteboy let out a satisfied moan of pleasure. I could feel my long length pressing against his anal wall, but my stem was too large and stayed erotically sandwiched between his firm overstuffed ass cheeks. I grabbed his rigid waist and began to buck into him full force. I hadn’t fucked anything since the box. This was insane pleasure. Whiteboy was on top of my swearing and cheering… I barely noticed. I flipped him over without unsheathing. I was desperate for a better angle. I was desperate for more friction. I had him on all Fours. His ass was just a huge sofa in front of me. He grunted and forced himself back as drove forward. His head bounced rhythmically into the headboard as I pummeled the huge target. I attacked his snug hole relentlessly. I put my pale hands on that big ass and drilled it like I had just learned to fuck.

He let me ride him for what seemed like hours and then when he could feel me start to tense and hyperventilate, he clamped his muscles tight… and I surged like a fire hose into his gut. I roared in release and collapsed forward, my girth still straining inside him and sputtering. Whiteboy squirmed his way off of my giant tool and turned to face me. Our sweaty bodies rubbed against each other, as my mind cleared from its sexual haze. I felt his big lips kiss mine and his tongue darted in and out of my mouth. He slipped off the bed and put his boxers and pants back on… oblivious to the cum running down his long muscled leg. “Dat Was da real Shit right Der, Hommes.” He told me, “I’m gonna Be comin back for dat ride.”

After he left… I realized that I had kissed him back….

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