Pecking Order 2
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.
When we last looked, Jason Primo was in a position to begin reprogramming his teacher and coach Mr. Atlas, converting him into a tool he could use to redo what he saw as the unfair school hierarchy. Let's see where the "new improved" Mr. A finds himself now.
[John Atlas, teacher]
Maybe it was the heat, but this afternoon as I began teaching my Men's Health class, I felt a little strange, somewhat woozy. I noticed to my surprise that there was a water bottle in front of every student. That was new. Had I told them they were required to get one? I didn't remember doing that. I kept shaking my head trying to clear it.
On my desk was a lesson plan. Only it wasn't in my normal outline format. It seemed to have every word of the lesson spelled out in text form. I didn't remember every having done that before, and was somewhat confused as to how to proceed, when suddenly my attention was drawn to the back of the classroom, where that troublemaker Primo had made a loud, rude noise. I was about to reprimand him, when he raised three fingers, and I forgot what I was about to say to him and just stood in front of the class and began to read the lesson. I didn't remember writing it; it said strange things like everything I said was true, everyone should watch this class every day and learn, everyone should take regular drinks from their water bottles to remain hydrated, and a few other things that I don't remember. The class was staring at me; they all seemed totally zoned out and regularly took swigs from their water bottles. For some reason, it felt like things were going well, though, and at the end of the class I felt pleased for some reason.
I was about to leave the classroom for my office, when I noticed that Fred continued to stay seated with a glazed look while Primo walked over to him with a set of printed pages. Maybe I told him to stay there, but I didn't exactly remember. I was curious for a second, but then Primo raised two fingers and I felt the immediate need to leave for my office.
[Lance Albright, sophomore]
I was looking forward to the evening tutoring session at my house that Mr. A had planned for me to help Jason. It would be great to get him on track and have him do well in class, and contribute more at football. I really want him to stay on the team and to qualify for varsity next year, and I'll do what I can to help him.
He came over for dinner first, and my whole family was great to him. He was also very polite, having brought over a large bottle of fresh-squeezed orange juice that all of us enjoyed. For some reason, I don't remember much about that evening, although somehow I was left with the feeling that everything went well.
For personal reasons, I was really looking forward to dinner the NEXT evening. My longtime girlfriend Jennifer was coming over, and we'd spend the evening together. We hadn't had sex yet, since Jen decided to save herself for marriage, but she's great to be with anyway, and I enjoy the intense making out that we ARE able to do without violating her pledge. Although in some ways it's always driven me nuts.
The evening came, and we were all sitting there having dinner. For a brief moment, I thought it was odd that we were all naked at the table, and that Jen was not sitting next to me but next to my little brother Ron. But the moment passed, and it all seemed normal to me. Ron is a year younger than me, although we're almost the same height and weight, and he's as athletic as I am. He's always looked up to me as an example to follow, and I love him and look out for him.
Ron was fondling Jen's breasts as she sat there, and she seemed to be enjoying it. Actually, he was more than fondling them, he was handling them all over they way you'd test melons at the store for ripeness. Then he began to smear gravy on the nipples and flicked his tongue while licking it off. My parents were both looking on admiringly. Again, I got the feeling that this was a bit strange, but again the feeling passed.
I looked at the clock. "Um, Jen, shouldn't we be getting dressed and leaving for the movie? We don't want to miss the starting time."
Without looking away from Ron's eyes, Jen said, "Well, Lance, you know, I've decided to skip the movie. Ron has agreed to fuck me tonight." I was shocked, but my folks continued to gaze admiringly at Ron playing with Jen's body.
"F-f-f-fuck?" I stammered. "I thought you were saving yourself for marriage. And Ron? Why him?"
"I know you're older than Ron, but he's more like a man, and you're more like a boy. He's even hung bigger than you." How would she even know that? It's not as if she saw me hard all that often, or him ever. Or so I thought. "And he knows what he wants. He wasn't willing to wait for sex, he ordered me to let him fuck me right away, and he's the boss, so how could I say no?" Huh? Since when was Ron the boss? Although actually, somehow it started to make sense to me.
Ron looked over at me. "Hey, bro, it's not like I'm not grateful you brought her here for me. Say, do you want to watch while I fuck her? You deserve to see it happen."
"No, I don't want to see that, and I don't know why you think I would."
Ron's tone changed. "Look, I WANT you to watch. In fact, I insist on it. You can even beat yourself off while you watch. After all, you've waited years to get off with Jen. It'll be sorta like that only a little bit different. You can even lick up our 'juices' in my bed when we're finished."
Well, he insisted, and he's the boss, so I knew I had to obey his order, and besides, the promise of being allowed to clean up their afterfuck somehow caused my cock to stir. Meanwhile, Dad said, "Say Ron, can Mom and I watch too?"
"Nah, it'll be too crowded in there. But, tell you what, you can listen through the wall, and then I give you my permission to fuck each other in your room tonight."
Dad and Mom smiled and looked at each other, with expressions as if they'd just won the lottery.
Again I had that feeling that something strange was happening, but again it went away. Just an ordinary family dinner at our house.
[John Atlas, teacher]
A couple of days went by without leaving anything in my memory, somehow. Each day, the class just sat there, drinking from their water bottles and listening to me drone on. I don't even remember anything I said that whole time. On this day, though, as class began, I watched Jason make a gesture and I knew just what to say.
"I've decided to turn the class over to Fred Wilson. He clearly knows all the answers, and has earned his mastery of this class. In fact, I've decided to turn MYSELF over to Fred, so he can train me and you in all the skills he deems necessary for us to be his sex slaves. Every day he will teach a new skill or position you can use to sexually please someone superior to you in the class hierarchy. Of course, we will all want to be HIS slaves, but not everyone in this class will be good enough to qualify. So you will have to use what you learn to find and please your own sexual masters.
"Master Fred, I would love the honor of being your first sex slave trainee. Please come down here and stand on my desk so I can worship you as you deserve."
A confused-looking Fred stood up—clearly under the influence of something besides my request—walked over, climbed up on my desk, then stood there looking blank. He looked towards the back corner of the room, in the general direction of Jason Primo, and suddenly his expression changed, and he seemed to brim with confidence and the knowledge of exactly what to say.
"Thank you, Mr. A, or I guess Slave John. To all of you, I am no longer Freddy the class nerd, but rather Master Fred the class owner and trainer. You are all desperate to learn what I am here to teach you. And for those of you who are lucky enough to be good-looking, or athletic, or skilled enough, you have a chance to earn the right to worship and serve me. The rest of you will learn skills that will be useful for the rest of your lives as desirable sex slaves. You will watch my demonstrations and will practice on each other over and over until you get it right. That will probably take the whole rest of the school year.
"You will be recording everything you do with cellphone cameras and webcams. These videos will be used to advance your training and perfect your technique. Also, I can probably make some money selling them if they're good enough, and that will advance your chances of being allowed to crawl to my feet and serve me, which is what you all want more than anything." From their glazed looks, I saw the class was absorbing everything Fred was telling them. Including me.
Fred picked up a long wooden board pointer, and held it upright like a scepter.
"Slave John, please get this class started by stripping, climbing on the desk, and licking the tops of my shoes." As I began to strip, I noticed Fred pulling out an impressive soft five inch mancock out from his boy pants. It began to harden as I shed the last of my clothes and climbed belly-first onto my, or I guess his, desk. But as my long tongue came out of my mouth to start my shoe-cleaning job, Fred seemed to run out of memorized script and looked confused again, even somewhat pained, as I started to obey his command.
Freddy looked down on me with tears in his eyes as I helplessly slurped the tops of his shoes while his surprising eight inch nerdcock stood proudly at attention. I knew it had to look ridiculous, a tall, super-strong body-building man in his twenties, totally naked, biceps and quads bulging, sizable mancock unstoppably erect, on top of the desk in front of this skinny kid who had somehow become "master of the class" and now master of me, long tongue cleaning his shoes. However, his expression wasn't one of domination, but of sadness and tenderness.
Freddy spoke quietly so no one else could hear. "Mr. A, I can't tell you how often I've dreamed of being with you, of being in your strong arms while you protected me, and gently made love to me. I just never pictured it would be THIS way." Jason Primo noticed Freddy whispering. He snapped his fingers, getting Fred to look up, and made a gesture. Instantly, Fred's expression hardened from one of compassion into one of utter contempt, as he went on. "But since you're a low-life shoe worshiper, I think this position is more appropriate for you." He expertly swung the pointer so it would cause the maximum sting on my naked butt. "You're missing all the good gunk on the bottom of my shoes. I stepped on some gum out there, and earlier I accidentally stepped in a puddle of piss underneath a urinal in the boys room. Take my shoes off and work on 'em. I expect them to be spotless when you're done."
I took Fred's shoes off his perfect godlike feet and crawled into the corner to work on them. I was disgusted by what I was doing, yet I somehow felt that cleaning Freddy's shoes with my tongue was my duty and my responsibility. I knew that the feeling was terribly wrong, that it had been planted in my brain, but even so I couldn't stop feeling it was absolutely true. So, as with everything I did, I was determined to do my job well and completely. As my tongue found and took in the gum, the piss, and much more, I had a feeling of satisfaction for a job being well done wash over me.
Fred continued the class, issuing orders and explaining things so the class would understand. Much of it seemed wrong at first, but began to make sense after awhile. Soon I was listening as intently to Fred's clearly memorized lecture as anyone else in the class. I don't remember the specifics, but I felt my life shifting, changing under me as he spoke, and what sounded weird began to seem ordinary.
The next day began for me like any other. I got out of bed, crawled across the bedroom floor to the photo of Fred I have on the wall, stared longingly at the photo while jerking off into the carpet (since Fred wants me to start the school day with reduced sexual tension), went through my morning workout, had breakfast, and left for work.
Waiting outside my office was Drew, an English teacher. He's only a bit older than me at 25, but different in many ways. Where I'm tall, he's short. I'm a bodybuilder, he's thin as a rail; I'm guessing I weigh twice as much as he does. I am, or was, pretty much straight (until Freddy took command of my thoughts and feelings), while I always felt Drew staring at my body in faculty meetings and in the halls. And where I always tried to understand and relate to my students (at least until Freddy took over my class), Drew is very rules-oriented and talks down to his class. I never really liked Drew. And from the unpleasant smile he had on his face this morning, I figured I would soon like him even less. He followed me into my office and shut the door behind him.
"I happened to catch some of your class yesterday," he began. "It was the most incredible display I've seen since I got to this school. I'd have run to the principal and the police, if it didn't turn me on so totally."
"The doors aren't soundproof, you know, and I was able to crack the door a bit open while that spectacle was going on. I want to know how it happened, and I want in on the action, or you know what I'll do, and it'll be jail and disgrace for you and that kid."
Somehow something clicked in my mind, and I told Drew, "Wait while I make a call." I unlocked the bottom drawer of my desk and pulled out a prepaid cellphone not in my name that I knew was in there, and simply pushed "Dial." I don't remember much of what happened during that call, and I sensed it took awhile, but when it was over, I knew what to do.
I told Drew, "I can't tell you too much about what you saw yesterday. But I'll tell you what I'll do for you." At that moment, I heard a tap at my door. I opened it up, and, as I somehow expected, in stepped the Gonzales twins, Juan and Jose, wearing only gym pants, and both showing that glazed expression that told me they were totally in my power. They were rumored to be members of a Latin gang, and the whole school was somewhat afraid of them. Although they were only 5′8″ tall, they were intimidatingly muscular, with tattoos all over their upper bodies. Their hairy legs led down to unnaturally large feet. They kept their hair unstylishly long, and their gym pants did little to hide their extensive sausage-like endowments, even while flaccid. Drew stared at them in amazement, and it was clear he knew who they were, and found them seriously exciting.
"In return for your silence, I'm offering you the Gonzales twins one of two ways. They can be your super-muscular pleasure toys, devoted entirely to making you feel good. They will desperately want to learn the best ways to cause you pleasure. Their mouths and asses can be trained to send you to heaven. They can get so excited by being spanked for bad behavior that the one you're working on in your lap has his long, thick cock poking down between your legs and shooting cum into the mouth of his brother lying on the floor. You could make one of the twins super-dominant over the other, constantly picking on him, beating him and fucking him, while the other one is totally helpless to defend himself. You could have both of them beg to have you fuck them, with the one left watching feeling insanely jealous and beating off his huge cock while you plug the other one over and over.
"Or, if you prefer, I can make the twins your absolute masters. Their sadistic tendencies would come to the forefront as they used you as their torture toy. Your mouth and ass would be constantly full with their supercocks, you would be worshiping their feet and asses and cleaning out their sweaty pits and devotedly licking their nasty tattoos. I could show them how to take over their whole gang and have them all literally gang-bang you. The twins could move into your place and take it over, making you their pet sleeping on the floor at their feet, being kicked around whenever they're in a bad mood, being fed from a doggie dish or eating directly off their big feet or sweaty crotches."
I could tell, without his speaking a word, that the second option was the way he wanted to go. As I described him being brought lower and lower enslaved to the twins, his cock grew visibly in his pants. As if to try out his new position, he walked over to the hypnotized twins frozen in place, dropped to his knees, and looked up at them. He placed one hand on each cock through the gym shorts, and soon the twin cocks were growing in tandem, to the point where first one then the other could no longer be confined to the shorts and popped out into the open. Soon they were each beginning to precum, and Drew's tongue began to savor the cholo nectar emerging from his soon-to-be Latin teen masters.
I had to interrupt the proceedings before things went too far. "OK, enough already, I need the twins fully under to begin their programming. If you get them too excited they might come out of it and beat you up. You can expect them to come by tonight and take over your place. Do you want them to come to the front door, or would you prefer to have them break in and take ownership of you?" Drew's cock lurched. "I thought so. So we have a deal?"
[In the next section, we'll hear from two students whose top and bottom places in the class social order have been reversed by Jason's command. 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.]