The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Oh, fuuck . . . yea, that’s it,” I whispered to the clump of blonde hair bobbing around in my lap. The hair belonged to Erin . . . or did she say Amber? Well, whatever her name is, this girl had been practically stalking me for the past month. Every day at about the middle of gym-class, the bell would ring to signal the beginning of lunch for half of the school. And every day, at about five minutes after the aforementioned bell, like clockwork, little Erin (or Amber) would show up to eat her salad on the bleachers while watching me sweat my ass off doing whatever exercise Coach Nelson has us working on that day. The behavior didn’t bother me or anything, but it did get annoying the way she was constantly fishing for my attention—like I would be flattered by her persistence and fall head over heels or some shit. Hah! It’s not as if this was my first time being some shy girl’s not-so-secret obsession. No, I knew I wouldn’t be falling for the bitch anytime soon, but I also wasn’t going to pass up some easy freshman booty.

So, being the slick mother-fucker that I am, when that mid-gym-beginning-of-lunch bell rang about twenty minutes ago, I slipped away from that pack of sweaty teens and intercepted what’s-her-name outside the cafeteria. Then, with a silver tongue, I suggested that she ditch the salad today and try a thick piece of meat instead. Her initial reaction was an involuntary one, a gasp combined with an expression of shock . . . but when she didn’t leave, I knew she was game. Take it from me, when it comes to these holier-than-thou types, saying nothing is practically a written invitation, and soon Erin/Amber and I were sharing a stall in the first men’s room that we could find.

“Damn girl, you sure know how to eat a dick!” I exclaimed. I could hardly think as the hot young freshmen engulfed the seven impressive inches of hard cock that jutted out from underneath my gym shorts. To be honest, the blowjob was mediocre at best, but a mediocre blowjob was better than no blowjob.

The hair suddenly stopped bobbing and she slid my dick out of her mouth with a loud “plop”. “Really!? I was so nervous! This is my first time trying it. I’m really glad it’s with you, though. I’ve—”

“Don’t stop,” I said.

I moved my hand to the back of her head and pushed my dick into her mouth before she could finish. Great, I thought, she’s a talker. I was hoping to fuck this girl, but now I was having second thoughts about leaving her mouth unoccupied. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate women per se—no, it’s more like I just have a problem caring about them in any way. Truth be told, I probably treat them more like objects than people. Unfortunately for the poor girl on her knees in front of me, this time was no different.

“Mmph . . . thawy!” she apologized.

“It’s all good, but we only have ten more minutes if I am gonna get back to gym-class in time for showers, and I’m not leaving until I see you swallow my load,” I said with a smirk.

The blonde hair in my lap—or rather the girl it belonged to—stopped doing what it was doing, and shot me a disapproving look. She didn’t bother to take my dick out of her mouth, so she wasn’t really able to speak, but her eyes made it clear that she had not agreed to swallow any loads today.

“Girl, you know I’m just playin’!” I said casually, “I’ll blow it into some toilet paper or something.”

She leered at me suspiciously.

I quickly threw on my most disarming smile and gave her a playful wink.

Despite her attempts to resist my charm—and believe me, I am charming—the blonde girl’s lips curled into a reluctant smile around my dick, and she continued the blowjob.

I have to admit, I love it when they put up a fight like that. I mean, she knows she wants it; she knows she’s going to get it, and yet, right up until the very end, she keeps on acting like she doesn’t. I decided long ago that girls just need to be told what they want. Hell, just a few minutes ago this chick was the Virgin Mary, and now she’s trying her best to lick my balls without taking my cock out of her mouth—which, come to think of it, was starting to feel really good.

“Oh, yeah. Fuck, baby, just like that . . . don’t stop,” I moaned. I could feel my dick swelling; I was getting close.

She took my dick out of her mouth and jerked it quickly. “Okay, just let me know when you’re about to cum.”

“I will! I will! Just don’t stop, please,” I snapped.

“Oh, right! Sorry!” She slipped her lips around my dick and went back to sucking.

Amber (or Erin) didn’t seem to notice when my other hand snaked its way behind her head and grabbed a handful of blonde hair. Instead, she just increased her tempo, and soon I felt the blissful spasms ripple through my cock. Without warning, I tightened my grip on the girl’s clump of hair, and with both hands, I pushed her head onto my cock until I felt her lips press against my pelvis. The girl’s limbs immediately went rigid, and began to flail about her wildly. She made loud choking sounds and gagged violently on my cock while it sent one rope of thick cum after another into the girl’s mouth.

Now, I did feel bad about my behavior . . . for a second at least. Actually, I almost let her up when she began slapping my thighs in desperation, but then I felt my dickhead finally slip past her tonsils, and I realized I was now throat-fucking this girl. She adjusted herself at some point, leveling out her neck to allow more of me in, but I had a feeling it wasn’t deliberate. I felt the peristaltic contractions of her esophagus clench tightly around my member—the rhythmic pressure milking me perfectly. Eventually she stopped slapping my thighs and just squeezed the sides of my ass, digging her nails into my skin, fighting frantically to remain conscious until it was over. After a few more seconds, and when her throat spasms had finally coaxed every last drop of cum from my dick, I pulled her head back. I didn’t mean for her to fall, but when I let her go, that exactly what she did. The girl collapsed against the stall door with a loud bang. I couldn’t help but think that maybe I overdid it a little this time.

I watched her for a few seconds, anxiously waiting for her to catch her breath. Her first inward gasp sounded as though it would never end, but eventually it did, and then Amber (or Erin) let out a hoarse (and extremely loud) cough. The whole thing reminded me a lot of the pool at my family’s country club. I remembered seeing a young girl almost drown there, and when the life-guard finally got her to breathe, the chick made the exact same gasp-cough sound that this little blonde was making now.

“Shh!” I exclaimed under my breath. “Would you shut up?! You’re going to get us both busted!”

KNOCK KNOCK

I stood frozen. Oh fuck! The knock had come from the other side of the stall door inside the bathroom—I could see a pair of black women’s shoes just inches away, one of them tapping impatiently. How had someone even gotten in? I was sure I had locked the bathroom door! It didn’t matter. However they got in, I knew from the business-look of her shoes that this was not a student—this was a teacher.

We were in deep shit—both of us—and we knew it. The little slut on the floor even stopped crying and looked at me with wide-eyed fear. What do we do? she mouthed to me.

I just rolled my eyes; I was pissed. If she hadn’t been so damn loud, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place. I could have at least heard the bathroom door open . . . maybe then we could have slipped into different stalls and played it off somehow, but not now.

“I know you’re in there, Lance. Come on out . . . right now.”

The voice was definitely female, but it didn’t sound like any of the teachers I knew, and I thought I knew them all. Whoever it was, I could tell that she was becoming impatient. There was no denying how much trouble I was going to be in for this. Finally, lacking any other option, I lifted the latch and let the door slowly swing open.

My jaw dropped. The woman standing in front of me, right there in the middle of the men’s restroom, was like no other woman I had ever seen. Her face was perfect, her make-up looked professionally done, and her proportions, to be perfectly honest, were flat-out cartoonish. She was every teenage boy’s wet dream—a walking sex-doll. It even looked as though she had attempted to dress as professionally, but with such ludicrous dimensions, had failed miserably. The vest and white top she wore could barely contain her enormous tits, which looked to be about a double F-cup. On her hips she wore a skirt that was, well, short to say the least.

“Who the hell are you?” I blurted out, still in awe of the goddess in front of me.

“Who the hell, indeed,” the woman answered calmly. I expected a slightly more violent reaction given our situation. “My name is Vanagloria, but you may call me Ms. Gloria. As of this morning, I am your new vice principal.”

I was speechless. Oh boy, you’ve really done it this time, Lance.

I waited nervously while the woman steadily tapped her foot. I watched her watching me, eyeing me up and down. It looked like she was trying to decide what exactly she should do with me, and, despite the situation, I found myself imagining what I would do with her. Then, she looked down at the girl on the floor.

“Brianne, why don’t you run off to class now. No one will bother you again today,” the woman said.

Brianne! I would have never guessed that one, I thought. I didn’t care much about the dumb girl’s name—especially with the centerfold-caliber sexpot in front of me—but I had to admit, I was thoroughly impressed with how quickly she composed herself. About ten seconds after the woman asked Brianne to leave, she had dried her tears, stood herself up, and walked casually out of the bathroom like nothing had ever happened.

After Brianne was gone, the beautiful new principal turned her attention to me. She looked down and her eyes quickly locked on something.

“Looks like you’re out of uniform, Mr. Kennedy,” she said.

It wasn’t until then that I realized how my cock was still hanging out over my gym shorts, still coated in a mixture of saliva and semen.

“Oh, shit—I mean shoot! I’m so sorry! I didn’t even notice,” I exclaimed while returning my dick to my shorts. After that, the excuses quickly began pouring out of me, “Look, I swear I was just using the bathroom when that girl barged in here like she owned the place and started screaming at me! I didn’t know what to do so I tried to lock myself in this stall, and—“

“Stop,” Ms. Gloria interrupted, “I don’t want to hear it. Besides, you don’t have to worry.”

I was a little stunned. In my experience, vice principals weren’t this understanding. “I don’t?”

“No,” she continued, “I don’t intend to press charges, nor will I file a recommended expulsion.”

“Um, okay . . .”

“Come,” Ms. Gloria nodded her head in the direction of the door, “Walk with me.”

The mysterious woman reached out her hand and, without thinking, I took it. Together we walked out the bathroom and down the corridor towards the gym, where the rest of my class was probably just getting ready to hit the showers. Ms. Gloria placed one arm gently around my shoulder—a gesture that also offered me a good view of her cleavage.

“Okay, Lance, here’s the deal,” she explained, “I understand that boys will be boys. I also understand that most boys—especially young boys around your age—have pretty much only one thing on their mind. Do you know what I am referring to, Lance?”

“Um, sex?” I answered.

“Correct,” she continued, “sex is a part of everyday-life. For you, this means that occasionally sex is going to get you into trouble. Case in point, you just raped and emotionally scarred a beautiful young woman in order to fulfill your selfish desires.”

I was staring at the woman’s generous cleavage when I heard her allegation. Despite how rough I treated Brianne, I still didn’t consider what I did to be rape. After all, it’s not like I needed to rape anyone—I’m Lance freakin’ Kennedy for crying out loud!

“No, it wasn’t like that! I swear, she—“

“Lance,” Ms. Gloria stopped walking and faced me. She put both hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes. “I’m giving you a get-out-of-jail-free card here. All you have to do is shut-up for a while.”

I closed my mouth and nodded, “I’m sorry.”

She nodded too, and we started walking again towards the gym.

“Anyway, as I was saying, you’re going to think about sex, and probably a lot. Additionally, when young boys, like yourself, think about sex, they . . . how should I put this? Lance, I’m afraid they can get terribly horny. Lance, are you listening to me?”

I was once again staring at the woman’s cleavage, but this time she had caught me. I gave her an innocent smile and mouthed the word “sorry”.

Ms. Gloria stopped walking and let out a sigh of disappointment. For a second I could have sworn she was pissed, but the bitter expression only lasted a split second before a wicked smile spread across her face as though she suddenly had an idea. “Well, well, well,” she chanted, “I clearly don’t need to tell you how terribly horny young boys can be.”

I saw her gaze drift downward and I realized she was once again staring at my crotch.

“It appears that you are fully aroused, despite having just cum in poor Brianne’s mouth.”

“Wait, what?” I asked confusedly, “I am?”

Ms. Gloria smiled. “Look down, silly.”

Dubiously, I looked down to discover that somehow my cock was indeed, once again, rock hard, and was pitching a very obvious tent in my gym shorts.

I was shocked, but Ms. Gloria, on the other hand, seemed indifferent to my condition. Without a word she resumed her walk to the gym, shuffling me along with her (surprisingly strong) arm around my shoulder. Meanwhile, I struggled to conceal my impossibly hard cock from the dozens of students eating lunch around us.

“Lance!” Ms. Gloria called out, “What did we just talk about? It is okay that you are horny. Boys will get horny—uncontrollably horny—and there is nothing they can do about it. This is why you aren’t in trouble for what you did to Brianne.” A moment passed while she looked me up and down.

All of a sudden, I felt rather warm. I reached down and untied the knot at my waist, and then pushed my gym shorts down to my ankles—underwear and all. I looked up at Ms. Gloria once—her evil-genius smile was now a thoroughly satisfied one—before I, without thinking, pulled my shirt up over my head and then tucked it under my arm with the rest of my clothes.

She and I continued our journey to the gymnasium with me in the nude, except for my shoes. There were lots of whispers and finger-pointing as I strolled past the rest of the students with my dick bobbing in tandem with my footsteps, but I couldn’t figure out why. My dick was, like, painfully hard—I wasn’t going to make it worse by crushing it under my gym shorts. Plus, I really liked giving Ms. Gloria another gander at what I was working with.

“Feel better?” the vice principal asked.

“Yes, much better, thank you,” I answered respectfully.

“Good,” she said, “now, as I was saying, because you can’t control yourself, I’m willing to promise that I won’t bother you when you have your little—um, what shall we call them—your fits of arousal.”

I had never had a conversation this candid with a teacher before, and definitely not with one so incredibly hot. The whole thing just seemed too good to be true.

“However,” she said, “I do have one rule that I’d like for you to follow.”

Yep, here comes the catch.“Anything,” I said. It wasn’t like I had much choice in the matter.

“All I ask,” she continued, “is that whenever you do turn into a big horn-dog, that you choose a better place to lose control. In other words, I’d appreciate it if you kept these little ‘horn-dog episodes’—your fits of arousal—in a more private location than the cafeteria restroom during lunch-hour.”

Oh . . . well that’s not so bad. “You’re right,” I said. She was right . . . about all of it. Looking back now, the cafeteria restroom during lunch-hour was probably the absolute worst spot I could have chosen. “I honestly don’t know what came over me.”

Ms. Gloria stopped me and, to my surprise, gave me a big hug.

“It’s okay, Lance. That’s all in the past. We need to focus on the future now.”

With the woman’s huge tits pressing against my chest and her thighs rubbing against my swollen prick, I was having a pretty hard time focusing on anything at all. I couldn’t help but wonder with all this talk about sex, all the times she checked out my junk . . . maybe she was actually hitting on me this whole time.

“I do have one question,” I asked.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Well,” I continued, “you said I should do these things in a more private location, right?”

“Correct.”

“Did you mean in my room or something? Or,” I said with a smile, “did you have a location in mind?” If she was hitting on me, I was giving her an excellent excuse to bring me some place quiet.

“That’s a good question!” responded Ms. Gloria, “Actually, I do have a location in mind . . . right here.”

That’s what I’m talking ’bout!

I looked at her devilishly, and then I realized where we were. Ms. Gloria had led me back to the gym. I watched as the woman did her best Vana White impression, and stepped aside to reveal the label on the door behind her: “Men’s Lockers | Showers”.

I was confused. She couldn’t mean for us to go into the locker room—all the other guys were in there! Maybe she wasn’t hitting on me after all.

“Sooo,” I said slowly, “I’m not sure I understand what you mean. You want me to go into the men’s locker room when I’m . . . when I’m horny?”

“No,” Ms. Gloria replied.

“Hehe, okay. For a second there I thought you were saying I should—“

“I want you to go into the men’s locker room when you are uncontrollably horny—a real horn-dog. There is a difference.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Is she saying what I think she’s saying?

“Buh—but . . . won’t it just be full of other dudes?” I stammered.

“Not necessarily,” replied Ms. Gloria, “I’m sure that a silver-tongued devil such as yourself is capable of talking some sexy young slut into joining you in the locker room. It isn’t as if I’m forbidding you to bring girls in here or anything.”

“Oh, okay,” I said with relief. For some reason, idea suddenly didn’t sound so bad. “Yea, I guess that’s fine.”

“Of course,” she continued, “you would have to actually be capable of speaking for that to happen, and . . . well, let’s just say that after today, that won’t be the easiest thing to do.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean? There was something about her tone that was starting to give me the creeps.

“Um, excuse me,” I asked, “But it kind of seems like you just glossed over some important details there. Can you please explain what you mean when you say I won’t be able to speak?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman quickly replied, “but that’s enough questions for today!”

“But—“

“No ‘but’s!” she snapped. “Now, aren’t you running late? I believe you need to get going if you’re going to be on time for your next class.”

I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was seriously fucked up about this whole situation. All this talk about me being a “horn-dog” and only having sex in the men’s locker room was really starting to weird me out, and now she was just going to leave after making a vague—and somewhat threatening—remark about my ability to speak?

“Awwee,” she said, taking a couple steps toward me until we were practically face to face. “Look how nervous you look. It’s actually a little cute! C’mere.”

Suddenly, Ms. Gloria leaned in, slipped a hand between my legs, and grabbed my cock. I came damn close to blowing my load as soon as I felt her fingers wrap around my throbbing shaft, which had somehow managed to grow even harder with her hand on it.

“Uh oh,” she whispered. “I don’t think you can get much hornier before you lose all control again, wouldn’t you agree?” She continued to stroke my cock as she whispered breathily into my ear. “If I were you, I would hurry up and take your shower while everyone else is still changing.”

“What are you saying?” I asked shakily.

“Well,” she whispered, “you wouldn’t want to turn into a horn-dog in the middle of a shower room surrounded by all your naked classmates, would you? After all, you know how horny teenage boys can be.”

I blinked. Has she been setting me up this whole time?The realization of what I had done earlier—undressing in the middle of the school courtyard—came crashing down on me.

Ms. Gloria leaned back so she could look me in the eye. She wore that same evil grin from ear to ear. “Anyway, have fun with your friends. Bye now!” And with that, the mysterious woman released my cock and walked away, but the damage had been done. That last bit of fondling had somehow sent my arousal over the limit—across some new threshold.

I watched Ms. Gloria’s exquisite ass sway as she made her way to the exit, and then disappeared into the courtyard. I even tried to follow her, but for some reason I couldn’t. Instead, I just opened the locker room and stepped inside.

It was late—everyone was already getting undressed. I quickly made my way over to my locker, determined to get myself in and out of this situation before things got much worse. I somehow managed to make it to my locker mostly unseen, despite the fact that I was the only one butt-naked without a towel, but even still, it was extremely humiliating. Even worse than that, the humiliation seemed to only fuel my arousal, making my hard-on impossible to hide. As quickly as I could, I entered the combination into my locker, threw my clothes and shoes inside, grabbed my towel, and then headed toward the showers.

Some of the shower heads in FCHS were surrounded by dividers for the kids still uncomfortable with showering in public, but those were always the first ones occupied. This wasn’t something that normally bothered me—I wasn’t one of those homophobic spaz’s who had to shower with a bathing-suit on or anything. Indeed, on a normal day, I had no problem using one of the open showerheads with the other guys.

But today was a little different; I had no intention of being on display for everyone to see. I was close friends with most of the guys in this class, but that would change pretty quickly if I tried to shower next to them with an inexplicable hard-on. As I approached the shower room, the sounds of the running shower heads were hardly audible—something that usually meant very few (if any) students were using them. As a matter of fact, I saw only one student using the shower room.

Out of curiosity, I leaned in to see who the student was, but with the dividers, it was hard to tell. I could only see his back, and I didn’t recognize him. His skin was light tan in color and he was completely hairless—baby smooth. I was actually surprised at how feminine he looked from this perspective. I watched as the water from the shower beaded over the young man’s narrow shoulders and down the middle of his back, eventually disappearing between his ass cheeks. It suddenly occurred to me that I was checking this guy out.

What the fuck am I doing? I thought.

We all knew that the number one rule of locker-room etiquette is to keep your eyes above the waist at all times . . . yet here I was fixated on the globes of this kid’s ass. I’m not gay. Hell, I’m probably one of the few people who can honestly say I’ve never even considered the same sex!

I looked down at my throbbing cock. I’m pretty sure I could have hung about three towels on it without them falling.

This is stupid, I thought. It was Ms. Gloria’s fault I was horny, not his. I could never get hard looking at another dude’s ass . . . even one as nice as his. Although I had to admit, whoever this kid was, he did have the perfect ass, especially on that feminine body. Hell, if it weren’t for the silhouette of his shaved balls occasionally showing up between his legs, I had no doubt that his ass could easily be mistaken for a girl’s.

Casually, I stepped into shower room and made my way over to the stall next to his and turned on the water. While I waited for the hot water to kick in, I took a couple steps away from showerhead, giving me a full view of the stall next to mine . . . and the perfectly round ass of my neighbor. It was covered in soapy water now, and I couldn’t help but stare as the suds made their way down the cleft at the small of his back, over his cheeks, and down the back of his thighs.

Just then, I saw the bar of soap he was using land with a soft thud on the floor by his feet. As he reached down to pick it up, his ass cheeks parted just slightly, and the underside of his cock and balls appeared between his thighs. But the display was quickly over when he noticed me staring.

“What the fu—oh hey, Lance,” the boy said in surprise. I still had no idea who this kid was, but it was obvious he knew me.

“Hey, man,” I replied. I stood out with my lower body hidden behind the stall divider, making sure to hide my erection which, at this point, was making it almost impossible to think about anything other than sex. “I’m sorry, your name is . . .”

“Seth.”

“That’s right, Seth,” I said slowly, and much more creepily than I had intended.

An awkward silence passed while the boy, Seth, waited for me to return to my stall, but I didn’t care. My mind was filled with crippling thoughts of the different ways in which I could sodomize that perfect ass. A voice in my head was even screaming for me to mount him, to hurry up and “make him my bitch” before the other guys showed up! I couldn’t help but wonder if he would go for it. I had all this experience reading women, but I had no idea how to tell if another guy wanted me or not. I recalled Ms. Gloria’s comment earlier about young boys my age: Boys will get horny—uncontrollably horny—and there is nothing they can do about it. Was she trying to tell me something?

“Um,” he said nervously, “You know there are, like, at least seven other stalls, right? You don’t have to use the one right next to mine.”

“Hey, man, don’t worry,” I reassured him, “I’m not gay or nothing. I just wanted to ask what you do to work out your thighs so well?”

“My thighs?”

“Yeah, man,” I continued, “You know, like your hamstrings and glutes and stuff. You got some wicked muscle-tone down there, bro.”

“I do?”

“Oh yea,” I said, “The other guys on the football team would kill for that kind of definition.” This wasn’t true, of course. The boy’s muscle tone wasn’t bad I suppose, but his smooth bubble-butt and feminine thighs were nowhere near as ripped as our first-string players.

“Let me just see something,” I said, “No homo. Just stand still for a minute.” It was more of a command than a suggestion. A part of me was afraid that he might object, but somehow I knew that he wouldn’t—or maybe even that he couldn’t. I wasn’t sure how that made any since, but to be honest, my big head wasn’t doing much of the thinking by that point.

“But, um . . .” Seth began to protest. His voice sounded different somehow, almost tipsy.

“Relax, bro,” I said as I kneeled down behind him, “It’s hard for guys to check out their muscle definition back here, so we get each other to help out. The other guys do it all the time.”

As soon as I was on my knees behind Seth, I put both hands on his legs and began to massage the backs of his thighs. I kneaded my way upward, and soon I was pressing my thumbs between the fleshy hairless cheeks of his ass.

“Wait, um, don’t . . . don’t stop,” Seth fumbled with his words, “No wait, um, that’s not what I meant . . . I meant . . .”

“It’s fine, bro,” I said, “Do me a favor and move your legs apart just a little.”

Seth didn’t even hesitate; instead, he just leaned forward and pressed his palms flat against the tiled wall in front of him. Slowly, he put his head back under the shower, causing the water to once again roll down his back, over his ass, and eventually to his crotch, where I watched it form a miniature waterfall between his thighs. Without a word, Seth moved each of his legs outward a few inches, giving my hands a little more room to work. He then remained perfectly still as I slid my thumbs very slowly up into the soapy crack of his ass, and then gently parted his cheeks until I fully exposed the boy’s virgin asshole.

“Oh, God!” Seth exclaimed. “Lance, don’t! There’s . . . there is something the matter with me. I can’t . . . I can barely move. I can’t even think straight.”

“Is that so?” I said, “Well, actually, I think I may know what’s wrong.”

“You do?”

“Maybe so, let me check,” I said. I let go of his ass and reached between his legs. Firmly, I cupped his balls, then released them and reached a little further until I found what I was looking for: a hard cock. I felt it out a bit, even going so far as to tease him with a few strokes. His cock wasn’t as big as mine, but it seemed about average size—although I couldn’t really say for sure, seeing as how this was the first dick, other than my own, that I had actually touched. Other than that, however, Seth’s dick felt just like mine—unnaturally hard—and I could tell right away that he was, as all boys sometimes were, uncontrollably horny.

“Oh yea, I’m willing to bet this is your problem right here,” I said with a tight grip on the base of his dick.

“What . . . what the hell are you talking about?!” he exclaimed. He tried to raise his voice—presumably to sound more assertive—but by now he was breathing so heavily that he only succeeded in sounding a little slutty. “Lance! Dammit, dude! Get your hands off my . . . off my . . . my . . .”

“Oh, you don’t like my hands?” I said in a seductive voice, “Want me to use something else?”

I didn’t wait for him to answer. I simply released his cock, moved my hands back to his ass, and spread his cheeks wide. I had never given a rimjob before—not even to a girl—but for some reason all I could think about at that moment was burying my tongue into this kid’s perfect ass; and that’s exactly what I did. My cock was still begging for release, aching to be shoved up Seth’s backside as well, but the voice in my head told me to be patient, and that this was a great way to loosen him up before the real fun started. Plus, it’s not like I wasn’t enjoying myself either way.

“HEY GUYS! Y’ALL GOTTA COME SEE THIS! LANCE IS GIVING SETH A RIMJOB!”

Seth barely jumped when he heard our classmate yell to the others, and I was much too far gone to care about anything other than my cock in his ass, so I just continued tongue-fucking his butt without even pausing to see who was watching me do it.

“He’s what?”

“I said he’s giving Seth a fucking rimjob!”

“What’s a rimjob?”

“THAT is a rimjob.”

“Holy shit, dude! Lance is licking Seth’s ass!”

“Yeah, right. Really, Mitch, could you be more any more of an idiot?”

“Fuck you, Scott, I’m serious. For Christ’s sake, look at them!”

“Where—oh my God . . .”

“I told you!”

Deep down, a voice inside me was screaming that this was wrong, but another voice—a louder, more urgent one—was demanded that I continue, that I give them a show . . . that I show them what a good horn-dog I could be. I quickly discovered that, ultimately, it didn’t matter what I decided. If I hesitated, my body would move on its own. The first time this happened was when I had trouble deciding how to “give them a show.” Before long, I felt my back arch and my legs open up, causing my cheeks to part slightly, showing off my own tight little asshole to the crowd. It wasn’t until after I was in my new position that I realized I hadn’t meant to do any of it, but the thought did not stay long. Soon I was doing other things to entertain the crowd even further, like making slutty slurping sounds on Seth’s asshole, and tucking my Johnson between my legs so they could all see how hard I was. Even Seth was starting to put on a show.

“Nnngg . . . OH GOD, Lance,” Seth cried in a slutty voice while he pushed his ass out more, “Your tongue . . . oh god . . .”

“Holy shit! Did you hear his voice?”

“Yea, I did! Oh man, why does that sound so fucking hot?”

“Hey, Seth! You sounded like a horny slut just now!”

Seth yelled back angrily, “Fuck you guys!”

Laughter erupted from the crowd behind us.

“Looks like you’re the one getting ready to be fucked, Seth!”

“Oh, that’s a good idea! Hey, Seth! I bet you’re just dying to get that cock up your ass!”

Seth sniffed. He sounded as though he was about to start crying. “You guys don’t understand! It’s not me! It’s him! He’s . . . he’s doing something to me!”

“Yeah, no kidding!”

Once again the crowd burst into laughter.

“C’mon Seth! Enough of this rimjob bullshit! We wanna see you take that dick!”

“Damn, Schmidt, you getting a little turned on over there, buddy?”

“Huh? What do you—oh snap! I swear, I didn’t even notice!”

“Hey look! Mitch has one too!”

“What the—I swear I couldn’t even feel it until you said something!”

As I continued to loosen up Seth’s butt, I couldn’t avoid overhearing the conversation going on behind me. I listened to their reactions and, without even looking, I was pretty sure I knew what they were talking about—their dicks were suddenly impossibly hard; they were getting hornier.

“NO! GUYS, THAT’S HOW IT STARTS!” Seth began to yell frantically, “First your dick gets hard and then it’s like . . . it’s like everything he says is a good idea!”

Another roar of laughter bellowed behind us.

“I’m serious, God dammit! It’s like I can’t even . . . ooh man . . .” Seth trailed off for a second while I went particularly deep with my tongue. “It’s like I can’t say no! Like I can’t even think! You need to run! HE’S ALREADY CHANGING YOU—MMmphh!!”

Suddenly, acting on its own, my body stood up behind Seth and clapped a hand down over his mouth. Unable to stop myself, I grabbed one of his hands from the wall and brought it to his face. I then removed my hand from his mouth and replaced it with his own.

“Practice,” I whispered.

The worried look in Seth’s eyes suddenly became even more desperate as he took two fingers and inserted them into his own mouth. Seth watched in horror as his fingers pushed their way to the back of his throat. Once he gagged—which happened shortly after his second knuckle disappeared past his lips—he pulled his fingers out, took a second to recover, and then pushed them back in. His eyes were screaming for help, but his mouth seemed determined to repeat the process again and again, each time able to swallow just a little more of himself without gagging.

Seth wasn’t the only one who watched in horror—I was right there with him, wondering what the hell had just happened. Had I made him do this? I told him to practice and now he was practicing alright; he was practicing how to give a blowjob! The strange thing is, when I spoke that word, practice, it wasn’t me. I mean, it came from me, but it didn’t sound like me. Actually, it almost sounded like . . . well, it sounded just like Ms. Gloria.

“Move, Schmidt! I can’t see.”

“What’s he got in his mouth?”

“I’m not sure, but I think he’s sucking on his fingers.”

“No, stupid. He’s deepthroating his fingers. Look at him gagging like a little slut.”

“Hey, what’s Schmidt doing?”

For the first time, I looked over my shoulder, and I saw Howard Schmidt—the second string kicker for the FCHS Mustangs—standing beside me, completely nude. Schmidt put a hand on Seth’s shoulder. By now, Seth’s constant gagging had left his face covered in snot and tears.

“Seth, buddy, looks to me like you got an itch you can’t quite scratch,” said Schmidt, “Want me to take care of that for you?”

I watched silently, wanting to see how the event unfolded before deciding what I was going to do next. It was clear that Seth was struggling to say “no”, but couldn’t. Maybe he was just too horny, or maybe his body just wouldn’t let him. Whatever his reasons were, Seth simply took his fingers out of his mouth, formed a perfect “O” with his lips, and then looked down at Schmidt’s cock expectantly.

“That’s a good girl,” said Schmidt as he guided Seth outside the stall. Once we were comfortable, Schmidt put his hand on the back of Seth’s head and pushed him down, toward his hard dick.

I remained behind Seth, my hands on his hips, helping to get him into position. I made sure when Schmidt pushed him down, that Seth didn’t try anything like kneeling or bending at the knees. No, I kept his hips at waist-level at all times, and then I had my hand on his back, ensuring that he stayed bent over like a good slut should.

Suddenly the crowd of mostly naked boys burst into cheers for some event that I couldn’t see for myself, but easily presumed was that of Seth’s little “O”-shaped mouth slipping over the head of Schmidt’s dick. It was clear, judging from the relieved look on Schmidt’s face, that I was right. I couldn’t help but watch, enthralled by the way Schmidt’s abdominals flexed each time he thrust upward into Seth’s warm mouth.

“Oh fuuck yea, that feels good,” Schmidt moaned, “Damn, Seth, I never knew you were such a good cum-dump.” He looked up at me. “Speaking of which—Lance, what the hell are you waiting for?”

I snapped out of my trance and looked at Schmidt. I didn’t know what he meant until I glanced down and saw one of my hands moving back and forth between Seth and me, fingering his asshole, while my other hand was jerking my cock while smearing pre-cum onto Seth’s butt-cheeks. The sight certainly caught me by surprise, particularly because my hand was moving entirely on its own, and also because the foreplay appeared as if it had been going on for a while without my realizing it. I had already worked two fingers into his ass and soon had to watch as my hand slid a third in there as well.

With a shocked look, I glanced over at the crowd of classmates and my recent audience. Most of them were on their way to take a shower when they first saw us, which meant most of them were completely naked. The ones who weren’t—boys who were called over to witness the event—were all sporting similar tent poles under their gym shorts. I quickly recognized the more popular kids—mostly jocks—as some of the voices that were cheering me on earlier. My closest friends out of the group, Scott and Chris, were watching from the front. Yesterday, either of them would have gagged at the idea of fucking another man; yet there they were, avidly encouraging me to ass-fuck our classmate in front of everyone.

“Yeah, Lance! Fuck him already!” yelled Scott.

“Yeah, dude. Fill him up!” yelled Chris.

The voice in my head echoed their cries. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore; my cock felt like it was going to explode. I reached down plopped my dick down on Seth’s back, and then traced the tip of my dick down the crack of his ass until it pressed up against his sphincter. We had shut the shower off long ago, and without the running water, Seth’s virgin anus was still coated with spit from the rimjob I had given him. Slowly, I pushed my way inside. The feeling of my cock in his ass was indescribable. I nearly blasted my load on the first stroke. When my balls finally touched his ass, the crowd burst into another round of applause. Very slowly, I began to move my dick out, and then back into Seth’s bottom.

“Fuck him harder!”

“Yeah, pound his ass!” Scott agreed.

I moaned and then, gradually, I increased the pace of my thrusts until everyone could hear the sound of my balls slapping against his wet ass. The ass-pounding, however, did not last very long. After only a couple minutes of feeling that virgin anus squeeze my cock, I felt my balls clench as my cock erupted inside of him. I couldn’t help but hunch over Seth as I came, letting my chest press against his back, my slightly taller body folding over his tiny frame while he sucked off Schmidt. Once my orgasm subsided, the shame of what I had down came rolling in. Immediately, I tried to pull myself away—to get out of there as fast as I could—but something was stopping me. Literally, as I attempted to extract myself from Seth’s ass, I found that I couldn’t. Not only that, but also, each time I tried, Seth would start wailing hysterically around Schmidt’s dick.

“Jesus, Seth!” exclaimed Schmidt, “Calm down, will ya?” He looked up at me. “What do you think has gotten into him all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know, but . . . I’m stuck,” I said while I struggled to free myself.

“What do you mean ‘stuck’?”

“My dick . . . it isn’t coming out!”

I looked down and spread Seth’s cheeks enough for me to see the base of my cock. What the fuck? Of course, most of it was swallowed up by Seth’s hungry ass, but still, it was clear that my cock had somehow changed colors! What used to be a normal, skin-colored dick, was now a shiny-red, veiny member. To make things even stranger, my pelvic region was suddenly much hairier than it was before. I normally keep that area pretty well man-scaped, but for some reason there was a thick layer of brown fur covering most of my crotch—and it was spreading.

With panicked, desperate eyes, I looked up at Schmidt, pleading for help—although I didn’t know how he could.

“Lance? What’s wrong?” asked Schmidt.

“My dick . . . it’s—” I began, but stopped short when I saw my hands start to change. My hands, which were resting comfortably on Seth’s shoulders, were now growing the same color fur as my crotch. Not only that, but they were shrinking!

“Holy fuck!” exclaimed Schmidt, “What the hell is going on with your hands, dude?!”

I just shook my head; I had no idea.

“Oh check it out!” Schmidt exclaimed, “You have paws!”

Suddenly I realized he was right; I had two canine paws where my hands were just moments before. “How the fu—oh my God,” I said as I started to realize what was happening.

“What is it?” asked Schmidt.

“I’m turning into a fucking horn-dog!”

“You’re what?!”

“Yea, you heard me! I’m becoming a fucking dog!” I exclaimed, “Earlier today, the new principal stopped me ’cuz of some other shit I did, and she told me I was gonna be a horn-dog or something!” Then a very sobering thought occurred to me; I gave Schmidt a serious look and whispered, “Dude, I think our new principal is a witch.”

“You mean a ‘bitch’?”

“No, man!” I replied, “A real life, broom-riding, spell-casting witch! Schmidt, I think she . . . I think she put a curse on us.”

“A curse?” Schmidt laughed, “C’mon, Lance. Curses aren’t real. Witches aren’t real. You’re losing it, bro,” Schmidt said, “Besides, what do you mean ‘us’? You’re the one turning into a horny dog.”

“Horn-dog,” I corrected him, “And no, I mean ‘us’. Look around you, dumbass!”

I watched as Schmidt surveyed the shower room, which was quickly devolving into an all-out orgy.

“Yea, so?” replied Schmidt, “What about it?”

Idiot. I could see he wasn’t going to make this easy. Whatever spell we were under had Schmidt completely brainwashed, and I had no idea how to help him.

I yelled in frustration, “What do you mean ‘SO’?! Schmidt, think about it, fool. Have you ever before today, had a homosexual fantasy of any kind.”

“Uh, no. Why?”

I rolled my eyes. “Just try to stay with me for a sec,” I replied, “What are you doing right now?”

“I’m getting my cock sucked, duh.”

“Oh yea? By who?”

“By Seth.”

“And is Seth male or female?”

“He’s male of cour—OH SHIT!” he exclaimed in shock. With a dumbfounded expression, he quickly reevaluated his surroundings. He focused first on me, then on Seth—who was still doing his best sissy-slut impression on Schmidt’s cock. “Lance, what the fuck am I doing?”

“Finally!” I exclaimed, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell rue! She’s frucking with our minds, man.”

“She’s what?”

“She’s frucking rith ahhuurrr . . . ourr minds!”

“Oh,” he said. I couldn’t help but notice the worried look on his face. “Well how do we stop it?!”

“Do I rook rike Harrry frucking Potter to rue? How the fruck sherrd I know!” I yelled.

“I don’t know, man, but you better figure out something soon ’cuz you ain’t looking so good,” he said.

After hearing Schmidt’s comment, I quickly realized that I didn’t feel so good either. My stomach was doing flips; my cock hurt, yet was still somehow hard; and for some reason it was suddenly very difficult to speak. Abruptly, I felt a sort of “pop” in my right knee, followed shortly after by a similar pop in my left knee. If I hadn’t been stuck inside of Seth, I would have no doubt doubled over in pain, but in my current position, the most I could do was hold onto his back while he bobbed up and down.

As I waited for the pain to fade away, I looked over to the crowd to see if perhaps Scott or Chris had noticed my transformation, but quickly realized they weren’t going to be much help at all. Scott and Chris both looked drunk. They just stood there, oblivious and motionless, with their mouths hanging open and their vacant eyes half-closed. Behind them, I saw Jerome and DeShawn Williams. The Williams brothers were identical twins who played line-backers on this year’s varsity football team—and right now they were putting the moves on Scott and Chris . . . seemingly without much resistance. Jerome—who was recognizable only by his shortly-cropped hair—was standing behind Scott, gently kissing his neck. DeShawn stood behind Chris, and was doing something similar.

I watched in awe as Jerome worked his way up Scott’s neck, stopping at his ear. It was hard to see from my poor angle, but it looked as though he was whispering something to Scott. Whatever it was, Scott nodded drunkenly. Then, I watched as Jerome wrapped an arm around Scott’s waist, and, with his other arm on Scott’s back, he pushed my friend forward. Scott didn’t seem to mind, and he bent over without protest, all the while staring absently at nothing in particular. It wasn’t until I heard Jerome tell Scott to “act like a slut” that Scott’s face actually showed some signs of life. I wasn’t sure how Scott would react to Jerome’s command, but the last thing I expected to hear was Scott pleading with Jerome to fuck his “slutty white ass” with his “big black cock.” I watched Jerome teased Scott by sliding his dick back and forth between Scott’s cheeks, its head peeking out over Scott’s backside at the end of each forward thrust.

“Oh, don’t tease me, daddy! I want to feel you inside me so baad,” Scott said in a voice so slutty it was barely recognizable.

Finally, I couldn’t stand to watch any more, and I looked away before Jerome assisted my friend with his request. I pulled myself together and looked up at Schmidt, expecting at least a startled look of concern over my gradual transformation, but his attention seemed to be once again focused on Seth. As a matter of fact, the look of horrified disgust that had painted Schmidt’s face just moments before had apparently undergone a transformation of its own; the look of horror had become a look of pre-orgasmic ecstasy; and the look of disgust, although still visible, was clearly being feigned.

“Shhhmmmrrrr . . . Shmmiiddtt!” I cried.

Schmidt’s head popped up attentively.

“Go get hurr . . . heehh—help!” I said.

“Yeah I know, I know!” he yelled back, as if I were his mother asking him to take out the garbage for the tenth time, “I’m gonna go get help in a second, I swear, but—oh, fuuck that feels good—this little slut has got a mouth that just won’t quit!”

I was shocked to see Schmidt’s face contort into a look of pleasure as he came inside Seth’s mouth. Dammit, no! I knew that whatever magical spell that was causing us to act the way we were had just regained control of Schmidt.

Meanwhile, Seth’s eyes widened as he gulped down the torrent of cum shooting into his mouth. He looked just as shocked as I was by his actions—Ms. Gloria’s curse was controlling his body like he was a puppet on strings. I stared at Seth, who in turn stared at his own hand as it, much to his chagrin, reached up and caressed Schmidt’s sack while the balls inside pumped more and more semen down his throat. Seth was certainly not gay—at least not before today—and everyone was pretty sure he was a virgin, but even without experience, our new friend seemed to somehow know exactly how he should react when he felt that first dollop of cum land on his tongue, and without hesitation, he began to bob his head up and down, engulfing Schmidt’s cock in quick, long strides from just below the head, down to its stem, and back up to the head again.

Not long after Schmidt began to fill Seth’s mouth with his load, I felt the ass around my dick begin to spasm repeatedly, and Seth began to moan. Since both of Seth’s hands were busy—what with the one gently squeezing Schmidt’s testicles and the other holding onto Schmidt’s ass for balance—I realized that Seth was having an orgasm from nothing other than the incredibly wretched act of swallowing Schmidt’s jizz.

As he came, I noticed he seemed to be moving away from me . . . as if I were falling backward or something. No, not falling—I was shrinking! I felt my legs becoming shorter. Soon, the only thing keeping me upright was whatever was keeping my dick stuck in Seth’s ass, but with Seth’s sphincter now twitching non-stop, I knew that wouldn’t hold me for very long. Sure enough, just before I felt my feet leave the ground, my dick slipped out with a wet “PLOP”, and I fell backward onto the hard tile.

When I opened my eyes a second later, I could see Seth still bent over a few feet away, his gaping asshole still convulsing while he finished his hands-free orgasm. The teen’s shaved ball-sack and small prick hung rigorously in the air, dripping the last of his semen down into a puddle on the shower floor.

Mmm, salty. The idea to lick up the puddle of semen had entered my mind so instantly and without warning that I actually licked my lips for a moment before I realized what I was doing, and immediately tried to think of something—anything—else. I managed to look away from the lewd display, but focusing my attention on something less indecent was easier said than done. I don’t mean to say that I couldn’t stop thinking about Seth—no, it was just the thinking in general that was becoming more difficult. My plans for escape were suddenly hard to understand, and I quickly pushed these confusing thoughts out of my head, leaving me with short, simple ideas like food, play, and of course wet, warm places where I might be able to put my big dick.

Without giving it much thought, I lifted one furry leg and began to lick myself. The knot at the base of my dick always felt sore after sex, but I knew that licking it would make it better. It didn’t concern me that my tongue had grown several inches, or that I was now so flexible that I could bring my snout to meet my genitals with little effort. I didn’t even question why I had a snout in the first place. I did, however, notice that I was pretty tired, but I continued to lick myself clean until my dick slipped back into its furry sheath.

Once I was satisfied with my cleanliness, I stood up on four legs, and padded out of the shower room, into the locker area where the floor was soft and warm. I found a nice spot next to a small heap of fluffy towels where I decided to take my nap. At last, I lay down lazily and closed my eyes. The last thing I remember hearing before falling asleep was Schmidt’s voice asking the others a question I didn’t quite understand.

“Hey, check it out! Whose dog is that?”