Fuck You
It was one of the few rooms open at the local college at night and always filled with about a dozen of students. I was the only older student there, studying. A knot of boys sat as usual in the corner, farthest from the teacher’s desk. They hooted and shouted, playing at basketball or something.
A crumpled paper bounced off my head and landed on my book. I swept it aside.
“Knock it the hell off,” I shouted at them, too irritated even to use my will.
The redhead flipped me the bird, using his left hand since his right was bound up in a cast.
“Fuck you,” he said. That’s what doomed him, really.
I looked him up and down. He was mouth-wateringly lean and athletic, just on the right side of adulthood. Golden-red curls framed his baby face, and a mostly purple tie-dyed shirt stretched over his chest. Autographed plaster encased his right forearm.
His jock friends laughed.
He should never have taken that tone with a mind-controller, even one who’d mostly decided to give up his evil ways and to return to school.
“What’s your name?” I asked him. I put the whammy on him. He had to answer, and he had to be polite.
“Chris,” he said, surprised.
I laid the compulsion on his friends, too. “How about the rest of you?”
“Stan,” said a blonde in a blue tee shirt.
“Nick,” said the mop-haired brunnette.
“Jason,” said the dark-haired young man with a buzz-cut. He looked military, maybe.
“Andy,” said a huge muscle-wall linebacker of a boy.
I silenced the rest of the college kids in the room. No one would leave, and everyone would obey.
I closed on Chris. I ran my hand across his chest, tracing the line of his hard muscle under the soft shirt. He blinked. Anger flashed across his green eyes, quickly replaced by panic as he tried to move and found he couldn’t.
My fingers flicked his cast.
“So tell me, Chris, can you jack yourself with that thing?” His pink fingertips barely extended beyond the plaster. His face flushed.
I made him speak. “Mostly I use my left hand. It takes too long otherwise.”
His friends snickered.
“Andy, hold his good arm,” I commanded. “It will make a better show.”
Andy jerked Chris’ hand behind his back. Chris gasped and stood on his toes, his whole body straining. His chest pulled the shirt taut, and his thighs stretched his frayed jeans. Were those tears standing in his green eyes?
I smiled. I ran my fingertips over his biceps and across his collar bones. I cupped him through his jeans. I used just enough whammy on him to arouse him. His cock hardened under my touch. I knew the shock of sudden arousal just increased his discomfort more. I didn’t let him speak. My fingers traced his swelling head under the zipper.
I returned both hands to his collar. My fingers found their way under. My thumbs traced his clavicles for a moment. Then I clenched my fists and ripped his shirt down the middle. The halves came away from his biceps with a tear. His chest was smooth and hard and pale, taut with muscle. His abdominals strained above the waist-band. Chris tried to cover himself with his cast-clad arm. I pushed it aside. He stood there, quivering and suspended. Andy released his grip, just a bit. Chris settled on his heels. My fingers traced his exposed chest: wide, with a light dusting of red hair. I relished the feel of his hot, exposed skin. Chris was so embarrassed he flushed from his neck to his nipples. I twisted one.
“Start jerking,” I commanded. Chris’s plaster-covered hand fumbled across his belt and fly, but without a free thumb, he struggled work either one.
He got the belt loose and the button. I pulled his jeans down. His cock bounced, still imprisoned in his jockeys. Compelled by my will, Chris’ fingers played at his fly. With his thumb plastered in place, he could only jam his fingers under the elastic band and try to push with his fingers. His wet spot grew. Precum glistened in the cotton where it seeped from the slit of his dickhead.
It was an amusing sight, seeing him try to free himself with the same fingers he was trying to use to stroke, but eventually, I stepped in and just ripped his jockeys off. He had a big cock, thick, with a huge purple head. I gave it a circular pull. Chris moaned and ground against my touch.
I jerked my hand away, and shook my head. I slapped his bobbing dick. He moaned.
“Show us,” I said. “Show all your friends.”
Chris shot a panicked look from side to side. Stan, Nick and Jason had circled him, watching. Unknown and incomprehensible to all, I was feeding their libidos. Jason was already visibly hard in his jeans. He had a good package. The others faces flushed, their breathing fast. Their eyes fixed on Chris.
Chris’ whole body tensed as he wrapped his fingers around his shaft. His thumbless grip slipped as he tried to grip the sweet spot under his head, and failed. Frustrated, he turned to scissoring his fingers over the base, but that failed too. He fanned his fingertips over his cockhead, probing the flange. His hard purple helmet swelled as his fingers slipped on the oozing precum.
I liked the show enough to unzip my own jeans. I pulled out my own cock and jerked it, unimpeded by Chris’ logistical problems.
Chris moaned and struggled against Andy’s grip. Clearly, the boy was frustrated. Maybe I should have told him that I’d used my powers to fix him in a state of arousal, unable to find release until I decided.
“Stop,” I told him.
With a frustrated groan, Chris released himself and let his arm hang loose. His cock jutted obscenely. He bucked his hips, frustrated, like he was trying to fuck the air.
I pulled my cock a few more times. Chris stared at me with big, terrified eyes. I liked that.
“How about I fuck you, Chris? Bend you over the table and shove this right up your ass. Have you ever been fucked? Speak.”
I stretched my cock to display my full length. In all fairness, I’m pretty huge, and I used my whammy to make myself look even bigger.
“No, mister! Please no! I’ll do anything else just don’t fuck me.” The words tumbled out of his mouth as soon as I let them. They stopped as soon as I willed him to silence.
I stepped close, reached up, and laid a shushing finger across his lips. They hung about level with my eye: lovely, plump and pouty. Strong too. I pressed. I imagined them pillowing a cockhead and locking tight around the shaft.
I looked from Stan to Nick to Jason. All three were panting now, as hot as I could make them, and no longer straight at all, under my touch. I’d left only Chris’ orientation unchanged; his distress amused me.
“Knees!” I told Andy. The big linebacker grinned and kicked Chris’s feet out from under him. The naked redhead fell to his knees. He stared up at me with big, wet eyes.
“We will make a bet, Chris. I’ll give you ten minutes to get off all three of your friends here. You may use only your mouth and your broken hand. Do that, and I’ll let you go. Fail, and I’ll fuck your ass. More than that, I’ll turn you into the room’s whore. Anyone who wants, gets any hole they want. Then you can cum, either way.” I ran my cock against his cheek as I spoke. Stubble too light and close to see pricked at my shaft.
Chris stared at his three friends, all of whom were now openly stroking themselves, and then at the remainder of the room. Students male and female leaned forward in their desks, gazing keenly. Chris’ cock strained. That must hurt so good, I thought.
“Nod for yes,” I said. “You don’t get a choice.”
Chris nodded. Stubble and tears tickled my cock.
I laughed, stepped back, and pulled my cellphone from the desk. I set its timer in big black numbers: 10:00:00.
Chris’ green eyes flicked to Stan’s crotch, then Nick’s, then Jason’s. He made a selection by reaching out to Nick, the shorter brunette. His fingers flailed across the front of Nick’s jeans.
“Oh, yeah,” said Nick. I decided it amused me to let them speak now, all three but not Chris. Chris fingers flicked the Nick’s zipper. Nick moaned, luxuriating, but he made no move to help.
Chris strained against Andy’s grip. He got Nick’s zipper down maybe half an inch before his fingers slipped. Chris whimpered and stared desperately at the phone in my hands.
I held the start button under my thumb. “Clearly, this is unfair,” I said. “I tell you what, Chris. You can have one minute’s head start, and a good look at your friends. Whip em out, boys.”
Stan pulled his blue shirt over his head and cast it aside. He had a great torso, lean and pale. He unzipped, shrugged off his jeans, and pulled out a long, thick cock. He stroked it in a luxurious, full-hand grip. Nick jerked his pants off, but left the shirt on. Light brown hair covered his lower leg, and his shorter, but still substantial dick bent upward from dark pubes. The wide head of it reminded me of his bowl haircut. His boyish face screwed in anticipation as he jerked. Jason stripped deliberately, unbuttoning his shirt and stepping out his khakis. He kicked off his boxers, fingered his cock slowly, and watched with narrowed eyes. If I wasn’t in totally in control, his face would have scared me a little.
Poor Chris. He’d probably never touched another guy’s cock before, and now he had three big ones staring him in the face.
“Time to start… now!” I clicked the button, and the final, millisecond, counter span madly. One second ticked down, then another.
Chris pulled at Nick’s cock with his splayed fingers. Nick stepped forward, hand still on the base. Chris reached out hesitantly with his tongue towards Nick’s knob, but Nick was having none of it. The brunette grabbed Chris’ curls in both hands and rammed his cock into his mouth. Chris gagged and choked. Nick smiled, a great big kid-at-Christmas smile and started up a steady stroke. Chris twisted, moaned, and, at last, began to suck. His thick lips looked like they must feel fantastic. I wondered if I’d chosen the wrong game.
Chris waved his cast-bound hand. Stan filled it with his cock. The blonde stood shoulder to shoulder with Nick, and rested his hand proprietarily on Chris’ back as the redhead bobbed and sucked. He groaned every so often as Chris found a sweet spot, and huffed in frustration whenever his hand slipped.
Deprived of either mouth or hand, Jason held his cock steady. I refused to let him stroke it, but I did allow him to rub it on Chris’ face.
Nick’s pace quickened. “Ah, shit!” he said. “Ah, yes!” His balls slapped at Chris’ chin.
Stan pushed Nick by the shoulder. “Not yet. My turn first.” Nick groaned his frustration, but stepped aside. His cock popped free of Chris’ thick sucking lips, trailing spit and pre-cum. Chris tried to follow it. Clearly, he felt his first blow getting away from him.
Stan stepped in instead. He shoved his balls into Chris’ face. His pubes, so pale as to be almost white, lost their nimbus and adhered to his balls where Chris tongued them.
Chris’ fingers found Nick’s cock. They clutched and slipped, but clearly they couldn’t keep Nick at the same high he’d had before.
Chris tried to kiss his way up Stan’s shaft, but Jason pushed his head back down.
Jason held his cock like a weapon. “I want him to loose.” He stared at my phone’s timer: 5:31 left.
I could like this guy. I laughed. “That’s hardly sporting. You have to give him a chance.”
I gave Stan a mental push, and he jammed his cock into Chris mouth. Chis moaned, something between distress and gratitude. Obedient to my command, Stan kept up a steady rhythm, seeking his orgasm without delay now. His pale ass clenched and flexed, as he laid one hand on Chris curls. As his head rocked back, he made a fine sight. I particularly enjoyed the way Chris looked on his knees, his eyes wide and tears streaming. Stan groaned. “Ah, shit,” he said. “Ah, shit! I’m coming.” Chris sputtered and gagged as he took his first load. A little cum drooled from his lips. When Stan was done he stepped away.
“Three minutes,” I announced, since I knew Chris couldn’t see it.
Jason stepped in. I gave him a little leeway, more than Stan. I wanted to see what he’d do with it. He didn’t disappoint me. He rested his cock toying in Chris’ mouth, making long strokes, and clearly taking his time as Chris sucked and bobbed. His big fingers played with Chris’s hair, and once or twice he seized the other boy’s head in a rigid grip as he teased his lips.
Jason gazed my phone over Chris’s head. I nodded at him. My own dick was back in my offhand. This was too hot.
Jason’s look turned wicked. He turned from tease to pile-driver. The noises from Chris’ throat grew ever more distressed as Jason heated up. He approached his limit with one hand on his own chest, and the other gripping the back of Chris’ head. He pulled out as he came, shooting his cum all over Chris’ gasping mouth.
Chris wasted no more time. He slammed his mouth down on the surprised Nick. His plaster-bound fingers pushed the brunette by the ass, holding him close. “Ah! Yes! Ah!” exclaimed Nick. Chris bobbed and sucked frantically, trying to meet his deadline. Nick convulsed. “Oh, yes. Chris, you fucking whoooooore!”
Chris’ mouth slipped off Nick’s cock as it came. One shot hit him on the forehead, and it slowly trickled down. Chris leaned forward on his knees, breath coming in heaves, as Andy held him gently in place. He looked up at me, humiliated, exhilarated, and half-triumphant. Cum plastered his curls to his brows.
“Not bad,” I said. “But you lose. Time ran out at least a minute ago. You just looked like you were having so much fun, I didn’t want to tell you.” I held up the phone. 00:00:00, it read. I spread my hands and revealed my monster cock.
Chris stared at me, disbelieving.
“Ready for your fucking?” I asked.
For this I let him speak.
“Nooooo!” he screamed. “No, please, no!” He thrashed in Andy’s grip, and for the first time, the big boy applied pressure. Chris sprawled in pain and tried to push Andy away with his free arm. He failed.
“Get him up on that desk,” I commanded. Stan and Nick grabbed Chris’ flailing, plaster-covered arm. Andy frog-marched him to a desk. It was one of the new kind, with a separate rolling chair and faux-wooden surface held up by plastic legs. Andy kicked the chair out of the way as he passed. Between them, Jason and Stan took his cast-bound arm and stretched it out. Andy took the other. He pushed Chris’ legs apart with his feet, and shoved him down. Chris landed hard on the desk, legs splayed. Jason took him by the hair.
I sauntered up behind. Chris was a fine sight like that, with a broad back, thick legs, and big powerful buttocks. I ran my fingers over the knotted muscles of his torso’s shoulder-blades and down his lean, triangular flanks. I stroked his cheeks, feeling the light hair there. Every time he twitched, their hard, warm surface collided with palms.
“Class,” I said. “You may observe.” The other students rose from their seats. Several boys and at least one girl were openly stroking themselves now.
Chris still howled denials and pleas. I slapped his ass hard. “Shut up,” I said. I grabbed his cock where it dangled. It was rock hard, and hot as light bulb. The shaft pulsed under my grip, trying and failing to cum. I collected the ooze from the tip. “You seem to be enjoying it.”
I fingered his buttocks with my thumbs, kneading till I found his asshole ring. I wet myself with Chris’ own precum and lined my dick up. I pressed the head against him.
Chris begged. “Please, please. I’ll do anything else. Anything you want.”
“There’s nothing I want more than your ass,” I said, and shoved it in.
He screamed, a delightful combination of agony and pleasure. His ass spasmed around my hard dick. The muscles in there were incredible. I bet he could crush walnuts with his ass alone, and now all that power focused on expelling me, kneading me. I began my strokes as he moaned.
“I will fuck you, and I will come in you. I guarantee you will enjoy it. I will make you enjoy it.” I touched his mind again. “Feel that? That’s me rewriting you: changing you. I’m the first, but my cum won’t be the last. As soon as it touches the your gut, that will be all you crave. To be used. To be a hole. For men. For women. That’s all that will get this off.”
I gripped his hard cock, pulling it. He screamed, as his whole body responded, with pleasure, with pain, with terror.
My balls slapped against him, and my cock swelled. I felt my orgasm building in the base of my shaft, as my ploughing dickhead sought release in the folds of his body. I gripped his hair, pulling his head back.
Jason stepped aside, giving Chris a view of the whole class: at least twenty freshlings, all horny and ready. “See them, they’re all going to use you? And anyone in the hall who wants some, they will too. Tomorrow, when you wake up, you’ll know you’ll do this again. For your friends. For stangers. In the hall. In class. You’ll live for it. And when you’re on your knees or on you back, you’ll know. It’s all because you told me, me, ‘fuck you’.”
I bottomed out in him, cumming. True to my word, Chris changed. His dick twitched and sprayed onto the ground, but it didn’t go down. He’d be coming again soon; a feature of mentally-enhanced metabolism.
I stepped away. I turned to Andy. “He’s yours first. You’ve been very patient.”
He nodded to me, respectfully. The rest of the class was closing in, all of them looking for a piece of Chris.
I took one last sight of him, bent over, ass up ready, curls wet with sweat, before I left him to his fate.
“Thank you, mister! Thank you,” he called after me.
I shut the door.