Jeremy's
by Wrestlr
Disclaimer: There's sex, hypnosis, sodomy, and maybe a few other minor
perversions in this. If you don't like that sort of thing, go elsewhere.
Copyright (c) 1998 by Wrestlr. Permission granted to archive if and
only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to
read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you
can't use this without the express permission of (and payment to) the
author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.
Comments to wrestlr@iname.com
* * *
Jeremy's
by Wrestlr
Part 5
Later that night, near midnight, Clay and I were studying in our room.
We were both stretched out in our underwear on our respective beds. It was
really late, and I was really tired, close to time to call it quits for the
night.
The phone rang.
Surprised the fuck out of both of us, so sudden. I scrambled off my
bed, stumbled over and picked it up. "Hello?"
"Is this Jeremy?" Doc's voice. Why was he calling me this late?
"Yeah. What's up?"
"Not too much. Listen, is Clay there?"
"Yeah." What did Doc want with Clay? As far as I knew, they'd only met
that one time, when Doc had hypnotized Clay.
"Good. Listen to me carefully, Jeremy ... Ashibo is watching: relax."
I felt so ... All of a sudden my whole body relaxed and I felt that
sleepy, foggy feeling fill my head. Even though Clay was a few feet away,
I didn't even try to fight it. I stood there, rapt, feeling how sweet my
body felt as it relaxed, feeling myself slip back into that focused,
cooperative state I liked so much.
Doc's voice in my ear: "Jeremy, are you listening to me?"
"... yes ..." Was that faraway sound really my voice?
"Good boy. Jeremy, give the phone to Clay. Tell him to come to the
phone."
"... hey ..." I said, turning sluggishly to Clay,"... it's for you
..."
"Who is it?" Clay asked as he climbed off his mattress and reached for
the phone. He didn't seem to notice too much that I didn't answer. He put
the phone to his ear, said, "Hello?"
I was just standing there, enjoying how relaxed and cooperative I felt.
I saw Clay's eyes go blank and his face slacken. "... yes sir ..." he
said, and leaned closed to me, so the phone was by both our ears and we
could both hear.
Doc's voice: "Boys, what are you wearing?"
"... briefs ..." I said at the same time Clay murmured "... boxers
..."
"Good boys. Listen carefully. In a moment, I'm going to ask you to
come to visit me. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Clay and I both said "... yes ..." at the same time.
"But first I'm going to ask you to each put on a pair of shorts and a
pair of shoes. Jeremy, I want you to bring your room keys too, so you can
get back in later. Now, Jeremy, you remember how to get to my house, don't
you?"
"... yes ..."
"Good, Jeremy. Clay, I want you to follow Jeremy. Can you do that?"
Clay mumbled, "... yes ..."
"If anyone tries to stop you, I want you to relax more and tell them you
have to go someplace really important and you'll see them when you get
back. Understand? And be careful about traffic when you're crossing the
road."
Clay and I both said, "... yes ..."
"Good, boys. Listen carefully to me. Ashibo is watching: relax. Relax
and obey me. Get your clothes on, boys, like I told you to, and come to
visit me."
I heard Doc hang up and Clay up the phone down. We moved like
sleepwalkers. I pulled on a pair of shorts, a pair of beat-up sneaks.
I picked up my keys. Clay was right beside me, dressed like I was. I
opened the door and walked out.
Since it was so late, the dorm was mostly quiet. We didn't pass anyone
we knew. We just walked out into the evening.
The night air was cool, felt good, helped me relax deeper as I walked
on. A few blocks to the edge of campus. We just kept walking. A few more
blocks, and we were walking up the front walk to Doc's house. I was
feeling this wonderful state start to fade, feeling myself returning to
normal, like I was waking up or something.
Doc opened the door to us as we approached. "Good boys--come in, come
in." He ushered us both inside. Doc had that statue craddled in his hand,
his other hand stroking the back of its neck in that familiar way. "You
made it. I'm very pleased, boys. Now look closely at Ashibo's eyes,
gentlemen. Jeremy, Clay ... Ashibo is watching: relax." And I felt that
pleasant state clamp down stronger on me and I relaxed and surrendered to
it again.
Doc rubbed his hand over my bare chest, admiring. "Bet you didn't know
about Clay, did you? Bet you didn't know he's been coming to me for
sessions since that first night, did you?"
"... no ..." I murmured.
"He's just as good a subject as you now, Jeremy, just as obedient. And
you're very obedient, aren't you, Jeremy?"
"... yes ..."
Downstairs to his basement. He had pulled a couple of mats out. His
voice flowed through me, through both of us, like oozing honey, and we
kicked off our shoes. When Doc called go, Clay and I came together on the
mats, grappling and laboring at each other. Doc has commanded us to
wrestle, and we both put everything we had into it. Muscle straining
against muscle, we were both soon sweaty. Clay was strong, quick too, but
I was a trained wrestler and he wasn't. I had him down and pinned
helplessly pretty quickly. He squirmed around, wasn't making this easy for
me, but I managed to get my fingers hooked in his shorts and boxers, and
when he scrambled out and away, I gave them a tug down and he kicked his
legs free of them to get away from me. He faced me, naked now, and
suddenly lunged at me again.
Didn't take me long to get him forced into a pocket where I wanted him
and down, going for the takedown. I had him pinned on his back, my body on
his, pressing him down hard. We both knew I had won.
From the sidelines, Doc said, "Very good, gentlemen. Ashibo is
watching: enjoy each other."
I felt a rush, like I was suddenly horny and hot and had to get off. My
balls tingled and spread this feeling like electric fire through every part
of me. I was looking down at Clay, and he was looking up at me. He was
hard too, my weight forcing my cock in my shorts down against his exposed
erection. I felt this heat, sexual, burning through me. I wanted
him--bad--and the lust mirrored back in his eyes said he wanted me too.
Clay pushed his hips up a me again and again, slow, rhythmic thrusts.
He lifted his legs up, around me, clasping my crotch to his. I didn't care
if Doc watched.
I pulled back. Clay didn't want to release me, but he did. I slipped
my shorts and briefs down and off in one easy motion.
Doc leaned forward from his chair off the edge of the mat. He put a
small bottle of lubricant and a few condoms where we could reach them.
"Gentlemen," he said again, "Ashibo is watching: enjoy each other."
And this rush of pure lust burst up through me. I didn't care if Doc
watched. I didn't care what Clay wanted either, though the heat in his
eyes said he wanted this as badly as I did.
I snagged the lube. I didn't care if Clay was ready or not. I wanted
this--needed this--and I needed it now. I squirted plenty on a couple of
fingers, slid them between Clay's legs. I found his asshole and pressed
them in, into him. He grimaced a little but he was relaxed and he wanted
it. I massaged my fingers in and out of his ass, opening him up. He
started to loosen up for me as I probed at him. I squirted his ass full of
the lube. I needed this too much for foreplay.
I tugged a condom. Rubbed lube all over it. I was harder than I'd ever
been before. Needed this more than I'd ever needed to get off before.
Clay lifted his legs, and I settled between them, settled his ankles on my
shoulders. My cockhead at his butthole, forcing itself forward. I needed
this.
He grunted, then yelled as I entered him. I didn't wait for him to get
used to it--I simply fucked him. Fast. Deep. rut. I was out of
control and lost in a crimson haze of need. He had his head thrown back,
yelling, as he jacked his uncut meat as hard and fast as I was
fucking him. His tight ass clamped down hard on me, and he came, jetting
milk-white at his neck, a couple of spurts on his chest, more on his
belly. His ass squeezing my dick threw me over the edge and I fired my
spunk into the condom in his ass as my orgasm shattered every sense into
fragments of pure pleasure.
I collapsed, spent, panting, sweating, on Clay. His tongue probed at my
mouth. I raised my head a little--where did I find the strength?--and
returned his kiss.
Doc, from the sidelines, clapped quietly. We looked over at him, at the
statue he held facing us. "Very nice, gentlemen. Very nice." He stroked
the back of its neck as he smiled at us, and I felt so proud to have
pleased him. "And now, gentlemen, it's time for round two. Ashibo is
watching: relax."
Part 6
The next morning, I awoke first. I was in a bed, a strange bed. Doc's?
My body was spooned up behind Clay's, and there was another body pressed up
behind mine. I turned my head, recognized Doc. Both he and Clay were
still sleeping.
I didn't remember anything that had happened since fucking Clay on the
mat the night before, but the fucked out feeling that filled my body and
the feeling in my ass told me I must have had a lot of sex all through the
night. I would have loved to have stayed, maybe had another go when they
woke up, but I had an early class, and I still needed to get back to the
door for decent clothes and my books.
So I slipped out of bed. Showered the funk of and dried sweat from
my body. I found my shorts and sneaks down in the basement, by the mat,
and I pulled them on. Clay and Doc were still asleep when I slipped out
the front door.
After class and some time in the library--I found it easy to get my work
done now, which was a big bonus, thanks to the Doc--I headed back to my
dorm room. I still had a little time to kill before practice.
I'd only been there a few minutes when the phone rang. I picked it up
and said, "Hello?"
A while later, I opened my eyes. The phone was kind of still tucked
under my cheek. Dial tone in my ear. Whoever it was must have hung up
when I answered, I figured. Kind of strange that I would have dozed off
like that without hanging up. I definitely had to start getting more
sleep.
I pulled my gym bag out of the closet. I still had a little time before
I had to be at practice, but now I wanted to get to the gym early.
The door to Coach Tucker's office was open a crack. No one else was
around yet. I put down my bag outside the Coach's door. It just felt like
I was supposed to be there--I don't know how else to explain it. From
inside Coach's office, voices: the Coach's and the Doc's. I just stood
there near the door, my back to the wall, and listened to them. Coach
didn't sound happy. They were both talking kind of low under their breath,
like they didn't want anyone to overhear.
"Listen," Coach was saying firmly, "all I'm saying is I don't care what
else you do as long as you give me a team full of winners. That other
stuff--shit, I don't--listen, I'm not into that stuff, so just leave me out
of it in the future, okay?"
Doc's voice, low and smooth: "What's the matter, Tucker? Didn't you
enjoy it? You sure looked like you had fun."
Coach sounded embarrassed. "Sure I liked that well enough. What guy
don't? But you weren't supposed to do it to me too. That wasn't part of
our deal. Just leave me out is all I'm saying."
"Coach, I can't make you do anything you don't want to. If it happens,
it happens. I told you it might and you knew the risks. I can't make it
not happen to you."
Coach's voice rose a little. "I know what you told me, and what I'm
telling you is, don't do it to me again, okay?"
"Coach, it's not something I can turn on and off for selected observers.
If it happens and if you're in a receptive mode, I can't prevent you from
going under." Doc's voice was changing tone in a way I recognized.
"Ashibo's spell is strong. There's no need to be ashamed if you can't
resist it. Everyone surrenders to him. It feels good to surrender to him,
doesn't it? Coach, look deep into his eyes and let yourself relax.
Surrender to him. Coach, Ashibo is watching: relax."
I listened while Doc ran Coach through some deepening exercises, weaving
a deep trance around him.
Coach's voice: "Jeremy, please come in now."
How the hell did he know I was out there? Unless ... maybe that phone
call hadn't been a wrong number after all. Anyway, I slipped through the
door and closed it behind myself.
I took in the room: a small office with a desk, a couple of chairs, a
lot of papers and sports shit. Doc was standing in front of the desk, that
statue craddled in the crook of one arm. Coach Tucker, in his usual baggy
gym shorts, tee-shirt, and whistle, was standing with his butt on the edge
of this table along the wall. Coach had his head bowed forward, eyes
closed, looking for all the world like he was just taking a little nap,
under deep.
"Good boy, Jeremy," the Doc was saying. He put his free hand on the
back of my neck and rubbed, making me feel kind of ... I don't know--open
or whatever. He said, "It's time to thank the Coach for letting you back
on the team. Do you understand what I mean?"
"Uh, I--"
He cut me off. "Jeremy, Ashibo is watching: relax." I felt that
familiar feeling wash over me. I stood there feeling all quiet inside,
passive and receptive, waiting to be told what to do. "Very good, Jeremy.
Look at Coach Tucker, Jeremy. You owe him such a debt. You need to show
him how grateful you are for what he's done for you. You need to show him
you'll do anything for him. You felt really good when he let you back on
the team, Jeremy, and it's time to make Coach Tucker feel good in return."
Doc told Coach to slip his shorts and jock strap down, and the Coach did,
moving slowly like he was sleepwalking.
I didn't even try to resist when Doc told me to kneel in front of Coach.
Coach was hard, and his pretty uncircumcised hard-on was staring me right
in the face. I could see it bob as his pulse beat through it, and that
little dolphin tattoo off to the side on his hip, the one I'd seen before
sometimes when Coach showered with us after practice. Doc was telling me
how badly I wanted to suck it, how much Coach wanted me to suck it, how
good I'd make him feel by it. I sure did want to suck it, more
than I wanted anything else right then. It seemed perfectly natural, so I
licked his shaft, and around the head of his cock, tasting his precum. I
opened my mouth and let Coach's rod slip inside. I it and licked it
and nursed it, worked his balls with one hand, rubbed his thigh and ass
with the other, doing my best to make him feel great. Doc told Coach to
cum and hard. Coach's balls rode the rest of the way up, and his body
bucked a little, involuntarily,! and he grunted. I felt his load slam
into the back of my throat, felt that bitter salty taste spread all through
my mouth. I swallowed it all.
"Very good, both of you. Jeremy, get up and go get changed for practice
now." I climbed to my feet and walked out. As I was leaving, Doc was
telling Coach to remember who made him feel so relaxed and good, and how
Coach would want to surrender to that feeling every time and not feel any
more reservations about it.
The feeling wore off when I was most of the way changed into my practice
singlet and gear. The rest of the team members were beginning to show up
by then too.
We ran through a damn good practice. We were all working hard,
straining and sweating like crazy. It was a blast! This was what
wrestling was supposed to be like. Coach, awake now, was in a great mood,
smiling and spurring us on.
Afterward, we all piled into the locker room for another team meeting. I
figured this would be another "training" session like yesterday's, and I
was right. We were all kind of horsing about, waiting for the meeting to
start up. A couple of slipped the straps of their singlets off their
shoulders, letting the upper part bunch around their waists. We did that
sometimes, both to cool off after a hard workout and to show off our
chests. I did it too, just for the hell of it. I'm a good-looking guy and
I have a nice build--nothing to be ashamed of.
One of the assistant coaches dimmed the lights when Doc walked in with
that statue. He put it on that stand again, and somebody switched on the
projector that hit it with a circle of brilliant light. Doc was wasting no
time today. "Gentlemen, congratulations. Today you've seen how much
better you all perform when you keep your minds focused and free from
distraction. All you had to do out there was focus and relax and let your
subconscious take over. It felt good to relax, didn't it?"
I wanted to stay awake this time. I wanted to see what he was doing to
us. I was sitting down on the far end, where I figured he wouldn't see me.
I closed my eyes before he could weave a trance around me, and I tried to
keep my mind distracted from following what he was saying by reciting song
lyrics in my head. He was droning on and on about relaxing and how good it
felt, and how Ashibo was there to help us all focus and relax, and how easy
it was to relax when they looked into his eyes, how the blue light deep
inside his eyes helped us relax even more.
I stuck it out. I was feeling kind of light-headed--maybe he was having
a little effect on me, but I was still conscious. I got pretty hard,
anticipating, but my jock kept my stiff dick from being too visible. I
waited until I figured he was pretty close to the end of his induction.
I opened my eyes, looked down the long line of beside me. A few
were still not entirely under yet; they sat with their faces slack, eyelids
drooping, as they focused with all their might on the statue of Ashibo.
Most, though, were entranced by now their eyes were closed, heads slumped,
breathing deeply and waiting for the Doc's suggestions. As I watched, a
few down, my friend Alexi's half-closed eyes slid the rest of the way
shut and his head slipped down. And there went my bud Mark the rest of the
way into his trance. Damn! The sight of all these helplessly
entranced made my cock jump and turn still harder.
I could see Doc and the statue out of the corner of my eye, and I felt
this incredible pull to turn my eyes that way. I was pretty sure Doc was
looking right at me. He was talking all soft and low, and it was like he
was talking to me alone, directly into my head, cooing the sound of his
voice around my head like a lover's whisper. My eyes were being drawn
toward the statue, tugged. I wanted to close them so I wouldn't see it,
but I couldn't. The Doc and that damn statue had me too, and all that was
left was for him to reel me in like the rest. Felt my head was being
physically turned by an irresistible outside force toward Doc and the
statue. My eyes met the statue's and I couldn't look or turn away. This
woozy feeling came over me. I felt the spell flood through me, and my
thoughts started going dim, and I felt myself relax the rest of the way and
surrender to him.
Doc clapped his hands and snapped us out of it. Coach turned off the
projector when Doc told him to and switched on the overhead lights. Doc
gave us a grin and said, "That's all for today, guys. I think you'll be
seeing the results of this session pretty soon. Anything else, Coach?"
Coach was still a little shaky--we all still were--but he said, "Get
your showers and get out of here, guys."
We climbed to our feet, got our lockers open, and started getting out of
our gear. I was one of the first headed for the showers and got one of the
heads near the back. Kirk got the one to my left, and my friend Mark got
the one on the end, to my right.
I was soaping up, sneaking a few little looks at Kirk and Mark as I did.
Kirk had his back to me, displaying his perfect ass. Mark was telling me
about this chick he wanted to ask out, which gave me an excuse to look at
him some. He had dark brown hair, cropped regulation close, and brown
eyes. Great build, muscular and smooth, hairless. He'd played football in
high school as well as wrestling, and his body showed the extra muscle of a
tackle. He had a tattoo, too, a pair of rose blooms on a single stem,
on the upper part of his left biceps. He was twenty and very cute, not
hard on the eyes at all. I'd never seen his cock hard, but limp it looked
about average, with a cute little circumcision scar.
I tipped myself into the spray and rinsed. I heard Doc's voice, calling
out something in the locker room, but I couldn't tell what he said over the
sound of the showers. After a second Doc was standing in the entry to the
shower area, with that statue cradled in his arm. Doc shouted over the
water, "Ashibo is watching: enjoy each other."
I remembered hearing him say that before: last night, with Clay.
Suddenly, I was feeling exactly what I felt then too. Horny. Really
horny. Doc yelled it out again: "Ashibo is watching: enjoy each other."
I was hard. Feeling incredibly horny. I was hard and I needed to get
off so bad it hurt. But I didn't want to just jerk off. I wanted more. I
reached over and wrapped one hand around Mark's perfect seven-incher, my
other around Kirk's cock. Kirk and Mark reached over too, and their hands
met on my meat. I jacked them, and they jacked me.
Mark bent in and kissed me, and I kissed back. I could feel the
needfulness in him--he needed to get off as badly as I did. Kirk moved in
closer and nibbled at my neck and ear. All around us, were jacking
each other off, kissing. Across from us, Alexi got down on his knees to
give a guy a blowjob.
We were all and horny and hot guys, so none of us was going to
hold out long. Kirk came hard and long, squirting his all over my
thigh. Mark knelt, and my cock slipped into his mouth like it belonged
there. This was a straight guy who had just been telling me about this
chick he wanted to boink, and here he was doing me like an experienced
cocksucker. I needed to get off bad, and I felt this orgasm coming over me
so strong it made my toes curl. I came hard, bucking uncontrollably. I'd
have fallen if Kirk hadn't been holding on to me. Across the showers, the
guy Alexi was blowing bellowed and came too.
Mark rolled over on his ass, jacking himself quick and hard. Alexi
sauntered over, stroking his rod. Alexi thrust his hips forward and
squirted semen all over Mark's chest. Mark threw his head back and roared,
and he shot off a huge load, all over his chest and belly.
I felt pretty damn satisfied, pleased with myself. Kirk and Mark and I
swapped high fives and rinsed the off our bodies. I don't think we
left the least bit of regret or shame at all. We had needed to get off,
and we got off, simple as that. Now it was time to dry off and get
dressed.
Part 7
It was really early, about 6:00 a.m., when we climbed aboard the bus
that would ferry us to our first match, an away match. I got a seat near
the front, and Doc sat down beside me. Because it was so early and the
ride was kind of boring, a lot of settled in to catch a little extra
sleep. I wanted to get a nap too, but Doc kept talking about the match and
how well we were going to do, how well I was going to do in particular.
Doc was keeping his voice kind of soft and low, to keep from disturbing
the around us who were trying to sleep, I guessed. I told him I was
really nervous about this match; I didn't know if I could guarantee that I
wouldn't get out on the mat and fuck up like I had done in practice so many
times before Doc started helping me. I was afraid I'd fold under pressure
and that would be that: I'd be off the team--no more wrestling, and no more
scholarship. My opponent was going to be the guy who had won the regional
title last year, and he was no pushover.
Doc told me all I had to do was focus on what I was doing and relax when
I got out there, just like he'd helped me do in his office and at the team
sessions after practice. His voice was soft and monotonous, a familiar
drone in my ear. All I had to do, he said, was focus on my breathing,
in--I took a deep breath and held it--and out. I closed my eyes and
followed his instructions, tensing the muscles in this body part, then
relaxing, feeling my muscles let go of their tension. As my body loosened
up and as more and more of my stress faded, I was becoming aware of how
horny I was. My cock was stiffening. I needed to get off badly.
I kept my eyes closed because I didn't want to disturb how relaxed and
easy I felt. My cock was hard, and I was horny as hell, and I needed to
jack off to relieve the rest of my stress.
I didn't care if Doc saw. I was still aware of his voice in my ear, but
I couldn't grasp what he was saying--the words just slipped away from me. I
unfastened my jeans and unzipped. I felt my cock spring free and wrapped
my hand around it. It felt so good I knew I had to jack off right then and
there. That great feeling in my cock was spreading through my whole body,
just like I knew it would, and my stress would soon be gone. Felt so good
I couldn't hold back very long; I was about to right then and there. I
felt Doc press a handkerchief or tissue or something around the head of my
cock to catch my jism, and I knew it was okay to let go. My orgasm burst
through me like slow fireworks, and I the rest of my stress from
my body along with my cum.
I rode that long orgasm, then sank back in my seat, eyes still closed,
pressure gone, feeling fully relaxed, and let Doc talk me down even deeper
into this sweet, sweet trance.
We kicked ass at the first match of the season. We ran over the other
team so hard they never knew what hit them. We totally dominated them.
Especially me--I'd whipped my opponent's tail like it had been me that won
the regional title last year instead of him. Doc had been true to his
word--he'd turned us into winners.
Man, I don't know how to describe what it was like for me out there on
the mats during that match. My whole body seemed to come alive. My head
seemed to just take a step back and let my body switch to auto-pilot. My
opponent never had a chance. I was all over him, dominating from the
start, and it didn't take long at all for me to beat him. Man, I fucking
ruled that match.
It was an away match, and we were staying in this cheap motel that
night, heading back to our the next day. This place was old, kind
of out of the way, and we were about the only people staying there. So
what happens when you combine twenty-four champion wrestlers, fresh from
their victory, and a motel? Par-dee! Par-dee!
The coaches brought in beer and some liquor, and we were whooping it up.
We were all pretty sloshed, even the who don't usually drink much. We
were jumping all over the beds and spraying each other with shaken beer
bottles and laughing and cheering and getting drunker by the minute. Even
the coaches, who usually all act like tight-ass chaperones for these
overnight trips, were getting smashed. Me, I had a really nice buzz going,
and I was aiming to get ripped. Doc was the only one even remotely close
to sober.
Doc was roaming around with this one of the coaches
brought, getting it all on tape. We were horsing around, jumping on the
beds like kids, hamming it up for him. Some of the had passed out or
headed off to other rooms to crash. There were eight of us in my room,
still going strong. I had my and shoes off; a couple of the were in just their underwear. We were too high on winning and alcohol to
be modest at all.
It was me, Kirk, Mark, Alexi, Dylan, Coach Tucker, and two assistant
coaches, Kyle and Jason. Alexi and Dylan were in their boxers; with the
radio turned up on some fast rock song, they were prancing around on one of
the beds and singing along and playing air guitar while the rest of us,
sprawled on the other bed and the chairs and the floor, laughed and
applauded. Man, I was so drunk it seemed like the funniest thing I'd ever
seen in my whole damn life!
Doc had the aimed their way, making sure to get plenty of
footage. I was betting they'd be plenty embarrassed when they saw it played
back later, but right then we were all too far gone to give a shit.
Doc had to yell because the music was blearing. "Guys, listen up. You
did real good out there and you deserve some special fun, don't you think?"
We all roared "YEAH!" back at him like a sonic boom.
Doc said, "Guys, Ashibo is watching: enjoy each other."
By now, after all our training with hypnosis, the beer, and the elation
of victory, we didn't have any inhibitions left. We'd been given this
command enough, we didn't even hesitate.
I shucked my pants and my briefs in one quick motion. I stood at the
foot of the bed Alexi was standing on, his back to me. He was kissing
Dylan like his life depended on it, oblivious to me until I tugged down his
boxer shorts. Alexi turned around and presented me with that pretty uncut
cock of his, already hard as a spike. I lapped at it hungrily. I'd gotten
to be a really good lately, and I was giving Alexi's rod a primo
tongue-lashing.
Around us, everyone else was naked too and hard and all over each other.
We were converging on this bed and spilling off onto the floor. Doc tossed
some bottles of lubricant and condoms into the fray, then stepped back to
resume filming. Man, I was so hot and horny I didn't care what he did with
that as long as I got to get my rocks off and soon!
I got pulled away from Alexi, pulled down flat on my back on the bed.
Jason, one of the assistant coaches, towered over me. Jason is a tall guy
and big--he's built himself a massive body with washboard abs and pecs like
plates. Jason's good-looking and he knows it. Jason usually strikes me as
a conceited prick, but he's got a lot to be conceited about. Brown hair
with these blondish streaks, that gorgeous body. Now, out of his usual
expensive clothes, straddling my stomach, that body had never looked better
to me. I ran my hands up over his skin, the light fur on his belly the
inverted triangle of hair across his chest. His cock was staring right at
me. He wasn't hung that well--maybe five inches or so, and cut, if you're
keeping track of that--but I wanted it in my mouth. I grabbed his hips and
pulled him up where I could get my mouth around it. Somebody else grabbed
my cock and fisted me slow and sweet as I Jason. When someone else
slipped a finger under m! y leg to probe at my asshole, I reached up under
Jason's balls and did the same to him. That did it for Jason--he threw his
head back and bellowed, drove his cock forward into my throat as far as it
would go, and shot a nice, salty load into my mouth.
Jason got dragged off of me. My teammate Dylan and Kyle, one of the
other assistant coaches, flipped my on my stomach. Kyle parted my ass
cheeks and dove tongue-first into my crack. Man, let me tell you,
post-hypnotics or not, that could rim an ass! Dylan got on his knees
in front of me and pulled my head into his crotch. I suckled his cock
greedily.
I think Doc kept repeating that command to enjoy each other every now
and then, but I was too far gone in my sex-daze to hear him. I saw him a
couple of times at the edges of our bodies, still capturing everything on
film. Right then, though, I didn't give a shit what he got on film.
Dylan's a cute-as-hell fucker. He's a year than me and he has
this casual grin that can melt your heart. His eyes are nearly black, his
hair too. He has a trendy haircut that accentuates his eyes, his face, the
little dimple in his chin. His chest is broad and hairless, tight muscles
everywhere. He used to row with the crew team before he decided to focus
on wrestling, and his body still had that long, sleek crew shape. And no
tan line!
Right now, Dylan's cock was mostly what I could see. It was uncut, kind
of thick, about six and a half long, I think. He sure knew how to use it
to swab out my throat, but I knew how to use my tongue to flick him over
the edge. Right then, I just wanted to make him feel damn good, and that's
what I did. "Gonna cum, dude," he grunted, and sure enough he did, in my
mouth and all down my throat.
Kyle rolled me onto my back. He'd rimmed me like a pro, finger-fucked
me; now I wanted something more up my ass to scratch my itch. I wanted to
get fucked bad, and he wanted to do it to me. He dragged me by my hips to
him, planted my ankles on his shoulders. He stared directly into my eyes
as he guided his condom-sheathed cockhead to my lubed and began to
press forward. I relaxed and pushed down to meet him. His cockhead slid
in, followed by a good portion of his shaft. He gave me a few seconds to
get used to it, then started gliding in and out of my, slow strokes getting
longer and more demanding as he went. Dylan's hand found my cock and he
jerked me off while Kyle fucked me. Kyle's cock started to hit my
prostate, and I was in heaven.
Beside us, Kirk was standing on the mattress with Coach Tucker kneeling,
sucking Kirk off. Kirk pulled out and jacked himself a time or two; he
turned our way and came hard, spurting all over my chest and belly.
Dylan wiped up some of the and wiped it on my cock, using it as lube as
he jacked my rod. I couldn't hold out, couldn't resist what they were
making me feel any longer--I threw back my head and bellowed as an orgasm
shattered through every part of me.
I lay there, totally spent. Kyle pulled out and pulled off his condom.
He pulled on his prick and pretty soon his breathing turned ragged and he
was shooting a huge load all over me. He collapsed on top of me,
exhausted, and his lips found mine. We kissed. The others were falling
around us, warm bodies and limbs cuddling all around us. We were all worn
out. I felt really content and spend. I wrapped my arms around Kyle,
kissed him again, and closed my eyes and started to give in to my
exhaustion.
I woke up the next day when Mark climbed off the bed and started looking
for his clothes. Kirk and Alexi and Kyle were still sleeping around me.
The shower was on. Mark pulled his underwear and jeans on. He looked over
at me, gave me a grin and a wave before he slipped out the door.
I sat up on the edge of the bed and flexed my chest and arms, yawning
and stretching out the kinks. I needed to pretty badly but I didn't
want to disturb whoever was taking a shower.
Right then, the bedside alarm clock went off, and everybody else jerked
awake. We all looked pretty sheepish, I guess, sitting there naked with
some dried here and there on us, but I didn't feel embarrassed at all.
Before any of us could do anything about it, Coach Tucker knocked on the
door and told us to get our asses in gear and get out to the bus inside
half an hour for the trip home.
Part 8
Doc didn't show at practice the next day. He wasn't in his office when
I went by for my private session, either--the first time he'd ever stood me
up.
When he didn't show up for practice the second day, I started getting
worried. The coaches were acting kind of spooked that day, like something
was wrong and they didn't want us to find out about it. Coach Tucker
wouldn't admit anything was wrong when I asked him after practice; all I
really found out for sure was he had no idea where the Doc was.
So I went by his office again, just to see if I could catch him. If he
wasn't around, I figured I'd leave a note under his door or in his mailbox
in the Psych department office.
His office door was open so I stuck my head in. But it wasn't Doc
inside. It was this woman I vaguely recognized as the department
secretary. She was taking books off the shelves and putting them into a
cardboard box. She jumped when I said hello and asked if she knew where
the Doc was; she seemed surprised as hell to see anyone come into Doc's
doorway, much less drop my gym bag into a chair like I was supposed to be
here.
"He's not here," she said curtly, as if I weren't able to tell that
myself. "And he won't be back. The university has cancelled his
contract."
"Huh?" I said. "How come?"
She wasn't looking at me, pretending I didn't exist or at least was
completely inconsequential to her work. "Certain information"--she had an
air of moral indignation in her voice but a gleam in her eyes, as if she'd
sniffed something whose stink offended her nose but loved the scandal of it
all too much to keep from inhaling it some more--"has come to light about
his behavior at his previous institution. Information that, if it had been
available when he interviewed here, would have prevented him from ever
coming here."
"What are you talking about?"
"The good doctor was found guilty of ... certain moral lapses"--she
stressed the words carefully--"at his last position, lapses that his
previous department is just now making public." She deigned to look at me
as she strapped the top of the box shut. The mean, pinched air of
righteous anger in her voice shocked me. "Moral lapses that involved some
of his students. Male students."
I tried to look suitably shocked.
She pulled in another empty box and turned back to her packing. "His
previous notified us when they learned from the news coverage of
the wrestling team's victory that he was here. Then yesterday, the
department received a complaint about the doctor and his behavior with an
undergraduate in the gym, and the department chair found certain ...
evidence to corroborate such accusations. So the university had no choice
but to let him go immediately. In return for not pressing charges against
him, the doctor agreed to a restraining order that prevents him from coming
within five hundred feet of the university or contacting any of its
students, ever again."
Shit! That meant everything Doc and the team had worked for was going
into the toilet. He wouldn't be around to help make us winners. We'd be
on our own. I'd be on my own again.
She went on with her packing. I looked around at the Doc's personal
effects. Once they made this office seem homey; now they seemed like
silent victims. There were his books, his papers, and there, on the corner
of his desk, his statue of Ashibo. This woman didn't care about them, or
the Doc, or how Doc had helped the team, if she even knew about that--all
she cared about was this juicy scandal.
I don't really know why I did it. I slid the zipper on my gym bag open
quietly. She wasn't paying any attention to me, was actively ignoring me.
I lifted the statue of Ashibo from the desk as silently as I could and
slipped it into my gym bag. I had just gotten it inside when she
turned to reach for the packing tape.
"Oh," she said, surprised. Are you still here?"
"Yeah. I was just wondering if there was some way you could get a note
to the Doc for me?"
"Absolutely not. I told you, he is not to have any communications with
this university or its student body. I think you should go now." She went
back to her work, plainly dismissing me. So I picked up my gym bag and
left.
While I was walking back my dorm, I started rolling things over in my
head. I had the statue--maybe I could use it to help the team? Doc used
to claim that once a subject was trained to respond to a visual trigger,
anybody could use the trigger to induce the subject into a trance. By now
all of us on the team were pretty well-conditioned to the statue and the
trigger phrases--maybe I could use them to continue Doc's work with the
team? I could get a few books on hypnosis from the library, read up on it.
I figured it couldn't be that hard, now that Doc had done most of the
groundwork. Certainly couldn't to try, at least.
All I had to do was get up the guts to try it.
Clay was reading a textbook at his desk when I came in. His jaw dropped
when I told him about what the department secretary had said. "Damn ..."
was all he could say. He liked Doc too.
We talked a couple more minutes, really superficial stuff about how Doc
had helped us in our sports and study skills, and what a shame it was Doc
got shoved out so fast, without even a chance to say goodbye. Neither of
us mentioned the sex--I wasn't even sure Clay remembered it.
Clay went back to his studying, and I got busy doing my stuff. I kept
glancing over at Clay. He was sitting there in just a pair of white
briefs, his back to me, and I liked the way his muscles shifted under his
skin when he would move to turn a page or give a heavy sigh as he read.
Just watching him made me horny, and I suddenly realized how much I'd miss
how Doc let me do sexy things with Clay.
That stature of Ashibo seemed to be calling me from inside my gym bag,
like it wanted to come out or something. I guess I'd want out of a tight
place where some jock stuffed his sweaty workout clothes, too.
I had this wicked idea. Clay had been conditioned to respond to the
statue and key words, too. I could try them out on him--if they worked for
him, they'd probably work for the wrestling team and I'd be a hero. And if
Clay jacked off or blew me or let me fuck him, well, that would just be a
bonus.
I pulled the statue out of my gym bag. I took a deep breath and tried
to relax. I cradled the statue in my arm like Doc did, kind of stroking
the back of its neck the way he did too.
"Clay, look at this."
He turned around in his chair and his eyes found the statue, found
Ashibo's eyes. "That's it," I said, seeing it already start to happen in
Clay's eyes. "Just relax and look deeply into Ashibo's eyes. Listen
carefully, Clay." I took a deep breath, then said it firmly, like Doc
would. "Ashibo is watching: relax."
End ... for now?
|
|
