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mstgay3000stories · 4 months

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Superman In Trouble

Superman gets into some tickling hijinks. For more of my work, you can find me down below. Hope you enjoy!

©mstgay3000, 2024

Clark Kent, also known as Superman, woke up with a dizzying headache.

He opened his crystal blue eyes and squinted at a large light spotlighting him in the darkness, far above him. Then, as his headache cleared, he began to realize that he was bound, his wrists and ankles chained to a table large enough to fit his tall heroic frame.

Curiously enough, his boots had also been taken off, the air feeling slightly cool against his large and masculine bare soles.

He immediately attempted to break free, expecting the table to break like a piece of cheap cardboard. But instead he was left in surprise as the bonds held.

“What in the—”

His boyish and handsome face strained as he struggled harder, his powerful muscles tensing in his blue and red garb, his toes even clenching. Were these bonds made from some kind of Kryptonite blend? How were they holding so steadfastly?

Suddenly, a door creaked open, and a figure emerged from the darkness. Superman caught sight of the visitor—a slim young man in a white coat and black leather gloves—and his eyes narrowed.

“You,” he said.

It was none other than the most recent troublemaker to arrive in Metropolis, a villain who called himself Doctor Feathertouch. A wicked grin stretched across the youthful doctor’s face as he approached Superman, his fingers tapping excitedly at each other.

"Good evening, Superman," Dr. Feathertouch said, his voice dripping with delight. He was much younger than Clark initially thought, and even handsome in a way, not the kind of person one would expect as a self-proclaimed ‘villain’.

"You’ve finally woken up,” the doctor said. “I hope your nap was satisfactory.”

Superman’s eyes burned with fury, the heat in his eyes glowing a bright red…and then it fizzled. He was in shock.

“What have you done to me?” he demanded, his bold voice echoing in the spacious room. The doctor chuckled.

“Oh, nothing much. Well, aside from temporarily draining your powers.”

“What? How?!” Superman once again tried to break free, but his super strength failed him yet again, a feeling he could not ever get used to. “And where are my boots?”

“Ah,” the young doctor said, slithering closer. “You need not worry about those either. You won’t be needing them for what I have planned for you, Man of Steel.” The doctor playfully tapped Clark’s nose, making him angrier.

“Enough games, Feathertouch. Release me now and I guarantee you’ll get a fair trial once the League is done with you. Scout's honor.”

The doctor flung his head back and cackled, which only made Superman more impatient. “Why are you laughing? What do you intend to do to me? What do you think you can do to me? I promise whatever you have in store won’t work, powers or no powers. ”

“I’m laughing because you think you really have the upper hand here, Clark,” Superman was mortified at hearing his name. He had no idea how these new villains were always discovering the League’s secret identities, but it was becoming a problem.

“Don’t get your cute little undies all uptight,” the doctor said, pacing around the table. “I promise the city of Metropolis is safe from the likes of me and my friends. We are not interested in taking over. We are after something much more exquisite, much more exciting. Something only you and your friends—male friends, that is—can give us, the members of L.O.S.T."

“L.O.S.T.?” Superman said. “Is that a new group? The Legion of Super Terrorists perhaps? Not that it matters, your kind always end up the same—in jail, right where you belong.”

“Not terrorists,” the doctor said, drawing closer to Superman’s face, causing him to scowl. “You have us all wrong, Superman. L.O.S.T. stands for the Lodge of Super Ticklers. We are interested in pleasure. Where's the harm in that?"

Confusion flashed across Superman’s face, and a moment of silence passed. Then he burst into laughter. The doctor, however, remained serious.

“Okay, this must be a joke. Hal? Barry? Is this your idea? You guys can come out now!”

The doctor growled. “It’s not a joke, Clark! The Lodge demands to be taken seriously. If you don’t believe me, then—then I’ll show you!”

Superman sighed. For him, upstart villains like Dr. Feathertouch were a dime a dozen. He was sure he’d have the kid in a cell by the end of the day, maybe even the end of the hour. If only he could figure out why his powers weren’t working…

“Sure, kid, whatever you say. And you better have my boots ready after this is all over, alright? That’s my favorite pair.”

Superman chuckled to himself. “Lodge of Super Ticklers,” he muttered, the very sound of it making him shake his head.

The young doctor, however, slunk to the other end of the table near Superman’s bare feet. He slipped off his gloves and cracked his knuckles. He glanced at the captive hero again, frustrated that Superman refused to take him seriously, just like the rest of the world. Was it not enough that he had devised a special device that could mute the Man of Steel’s power? It was beaming down on them as they spoke, disguised as a spotlight far above on the ceiling. Was it not enough that he had apprehended the hero by scrambling his brain waves while he was flying above, then catching him with his antigravity ray, and binding him to this table? All on his own?

Superman didn’t believe in him, just like so many others, from his own family, to his teachers, to his ex. But that was okay. Doctor Feathertouch was going to show the Man of Steel exactly how he got his name.

His hands, small and deft with long spindly fingers, began to tease Superman’s heroic, manly feet.

Superman’s brows furrowed. “Hey…what are you doing? Feathertouch? Hello?”

The doctor teased harder, his fingertips barely brushing the soft and shapely bottoms on each heroic sole. Superman’s forehead creased, wondering what was going on, both confused and even amused by the doctor’s strange behavior.

Then, he felt it. It was small at first, barely perceptible, a passing sensation, a glimmer.

It was the feeling of being tickled. It was quick and rapid, and something he hadn’t felt since his days as a boy on the farm, when Pa Kent would tickle him to tire him out before bed. The feeling grew, making the hero even more perplexed.

"What's the meaning of this, Feathertouch? Hands off, now."

The doctor persisted, his fingers gently brushing against Superman's soles, the ticklishness changing from a spark to a tiny fire.

One thing that the formidable Kryptonian had never told anyone, not even his beloved Lois, was that he was, indeed, very, very ticklish.

“Cut that out, Feathertouch!” Superman said, his voice more demanding.

The doctor ignored the orders. His fingers kept teasing, tapping and brushing gently at the soft skin of Superman’s shapely soles, his well-shaped toes beginning to twitch involuntarily.

The ticklishness began to build in his powerful body, a feeling he hadn't felt or even thought about in many years.

“I said, ‘cut that out!’” Superman said. “Feathertouch!”

Superman’s voice was stern, but the doctor ignored him again, his fingers gently playing up and down Superman’s soles like little spiders.

“I must admit, Clark,” the doctor said. “You have really nice feet. They look amazing. They smell amazing. How long have you been in those boots today, Clark?”

“Shut it, Feathertouch! Don’t make me repeat myself!”

“You might be the Man of Steel, but have feet as big and soft as clouds. What a dream.”

“I said, shut it or—mmf,” Superman’s blue eyes widened, his mouth clamming shut. He couldn’t believe it. No. It wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. Not here, not now.

The more time the doctor’s fingers spent on his feet, the more the ticklishness within his muscular body grew. He felt himself on the verge of breaking out into total laughter, his body beginning to tremble, the table beginning to shudder quietly.

“Oh, feeling something now, are we?” the doctor said, his fingers trailing up and down the sculpted contours of Superman’s tops, brushing against the perfect ridges of his tantalizing toes, tracing his prominent ankles, then coming back down to his insteps. “Tickle, tickle, tickle.”

“The only thing I’m feeling is anger, Feathertouch,” Superman said, his face visibly red. “You do not want to see me when I'm angry. I’m not going to ask you again. End this charade and let….mmmf….let me….uhhhhaaa…..l-let me go….hhhhaaa….now!”

Superman’s voice wavered and he jammed his lips shut again, his face tinging with embarrassment. He hissed angrily through clenched teeth, his toes tightening, doing their best to resist, his broad soles flexing.

He wasn’t sure how the villain was doing it, but Feathertouch’s fingers were the softest, most delicate, most infuriating little things ever. They moved like wispy and airy tendrils, dancing upon each inch of his bare soles, making his toes wiggle, making his stomach tighten, setting each nerve afire.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Superman refused to laugh.

“Come on, Clark,” the doctor said, gently scraping the edges of his delicate fingernails up and down the hero’s wide soles again, enjoying the way each sole tightened in resistance. Superman scrunched his feet harder, the soles wrinkling, yet it only amplified the sensations he felt. He relented, flexing his feet backwards, but that, too, felt just as torturous, his toes jittering, his big feet at the complete mercy of Feathertouch’s fingertips and nails.

“I can do this all day, Clark. Just give in. Let’s hear that laugh, big boy.”

Superman defied the young villain’s taunts, though his body started to squirm. “Don’t know…hhhaaa….what you’re…t-talking….about…ooohhhh….this is no laughing matter!”

He shut his eyes tightly, clenching his teeth and groaning in frustration again, his feet moving even more frantically in their bonds, desperate to escape the impossibly soft fingertips of his captor.

“I think,” the villain said, his fingers playfully tapping at the pads beneath Superman’s distinguished toes, making them spread, “I think this is a laughing matter, Clark. It's certainly giving me a chuckle."

The doctor then grasped Clark’s toes, pinching them with his fingers and thumbs, holding them still. The hero hushed, surprised by the feeling; it was like being pinched by two little clouds of cotton. Then, the doctor began to stroke Superman’s toes, gently, softly—maddeningly.

Superman groaned again, his face even redder now. He refused to give this pesky young rascal what he wanted; he refused to break!

The doctor continued, gently pulling at Superman’s toes, pinching them playfully in the most delicate and playful manner. It was always one of Superman’s most ticklish spots; in fact, his Pa would always tease him about his ‘twinkle toes’, as he called them. Superman resisted, hating the feeling, ashamed at his own reactions, a bead of sweat starting to trickle past the ebony spit curl on his forehead.

Then, without warning, the doctor attacked Superman’s toes furiously, his fingers switching gears and moving far more aggressively. Superman tittered nervously, his nostrils flaring as his feet danced under the doctor’s delicate touch, unable to escape, his toes flailing.

Feathertouch smirked as he tickled even harder, fighting back against Superman’s delicious and defiant toes, until the powerful hero could no longer stand it. It was too much to bear for him. It was so ridiculous, so over-the-top, so embarrassing, and yet, he could not stop himself.

He had to laugh.

"No!” Superman yelled, before breaking out into huge gales of laughter. His secret tickle spot had been discovered—his beautifully shaped ‘twinkle toes’—and it was too late now. The table quaked as he surrendered to the doctor’s tickling, roaring with laughter.

“Not so powerless after all, am I?” The doctor said, his fingers moving downwards and digging eagerly into Superman’s soles, making each toe wiggle and squirm further, the hero’s laughter amplifying. A smile of satisfaction formed on the doctor's mouth. Forcing someone as powerful and notable as the Man of Steel to lose control, taking him down several notches and reducing him to some helpless, powerless, giggling idiot—it was not only one of his proudest achievements as a new villain, it was one of the hottest things he had ever experienced in his young life.

His supersoft fingers were not the only tool in his disposal. He touched a button on his belt, and the black leather gloves that he had put in his lab coat pocket began to float in midair, the fingers jolting with life. The gloves worked telepathically, controlled by the doctor: they would do whatever he thought in his mind, and in turn, he could feel whatever they felt. It was as if he had four hands on the table, granting him the honor(and pleasure) of tickling Superman’s body with each one.

The doctor continued to tickle the hero's feet. Superman laughed boisterously, tears forming in his eyes, his chest heaving. He spotted the gloves eerily rising at the end of the table on their own, the fingers moving eagerly, ready to pounce.

“Stay back!” he screamed, as the remote-controlled gloves attacked, lunging forward and attacking the rest of the hero’s body.

In contrast to the doctor’s soft touch, the tactile gloves were imbued with electric currents, able to stimulate anything they touched, even able to penetrate through Superman’s Kryptonian armor. They dug into Superman’s pits and commenced their own attack, jolting the hero’s senses, filling him with more extreme ticklishness. Superman wailed and trembled, his powerful body squirming on the table as the flying gloves tickled his ribs and armpits, while at the other end, the doctor attended to his giant and helpless feet.

“Enough, enough!” Superman said, his words fizzling out into more crazed laughter.

The flying gloves scoured the hero’s body—from his pits, to his stomach, to his neck area—and sent pleasure not only to him, but to the doctor as well.

The doctor’s cock throbbed as the mighty hero wriggled helplessly before him, lost in a blaze of embarrassing laughter, his large feet moving around as if they were on fire.

He tickled Superman’s feet harder, enjoying the power he wielded over them. They were the hottest specimens he had ever witnessed in his life: velvety soft, shaped like the feet of a greek statue, undeniably masculine. He loved watching the toes dance as he tickled, as well as the feel of those pillowy, beautiful arches against his fingertips, the faint smell of foot sweat lingering in his nose, tinted with the scent of Superman's boots.

He closed his eyes, indulging in the feel of Superman’s body beneath his feathery fingers—not only at the hero’s sexy feet, but at the rest of his body too via his remote controlled telepathic gloves. The sound of Superman’s hapless laughter echoed throughout his lab, the hero’s big body rattling against the table, helpless, manic, desperate as two sets of hands set fire to his nerves.

“Mercy! Mercy, please!” Superman wailed, something he used to yell at his Pa when he couldn’t take anymore tickles.

But unlike his adoptive father, Doctor Feathertouch had no intention of letting up.

Feathertouch felt drawn to the feet at the table. His face leaned in and his nose trailed along the heavy arch of Clark’s foot, his remote gloves and his free hand continuing to tickle and torture. Superman glanced down in shock, outraged that some young kid was actually pressing his own face against his feet, but he was under so much ticklish pressure he couldn’t even bark at Feathertouch; all he could do was laugh and laugh some more.

The doctor rubbed his nose in the crevices beneath Superman’s toes, the musky scent electrifying him. The smell of a real hero’s feet. Amazing.

He took both hands and held Superman’s foot like some prized possession, grinning to himself as he smothered his face harder against it, remaining calm and sensual while Superman giggled frantically and shook the table.

His remote gloves continued to tickle, and he got to experience a unique blend of sensation: tickling Superman, smelling his rich soles, feeling his foot against his fingers and face, and finally, worshiping those same feet, all at the same time.

Superman wailed with both outrage and hysterics as Feathertouch began to lick his sole, his tongue just as delicate and soft as his fingers, a unique trait due to his special DNA.

“What are you doing?!” Superman cried out, tears streaming down his face as he endured the ticklish attack all over his body, the flying gloves never granting him a break, not one moment of respite. In the meantime, the doctor’s lips and tongue savored the Man of Steel’s soft and beautiful feet, his soft tongue licking them up and down, at the same delivering their own form of ticklish torture.

Clark had undergone all kinds of training at the Fortress of Solitude, but nothing had ever prepared him for something like this. Amidst all the laughing that was being wrenched from the pit of his stomach by the villainous doctor, he briefly wondered what his colleagues might think of him, stuck in such a state, helpless, powerless, a total mess.

Somehow, the thought of their disapproval and mockery only made his experience ten times worse, his voice cracking from how hard he was bellowing.

“Mmmm,” the doctor said, continuing to lap away as he held Superman’s foot, “your feet are so delicious. I wonder what the other one tastes like?”

“Get….get off me….Feathertouch! Don’t you dare!”

Superman’s cry melded into more belly laughs as the flying gloves dug into his abs, making him squeal, more tears forming in his eyes. The doctor planted one more kiss across Superman’s toes, then headed to the other foot, giving more worship and more ticklish sensations with his own unnaturally soft tongue.

He loved how big and sexy Superman’s foot was, larger than his own hand, his toes pressing against his face in defiance. Yet it only made his worship even more enjoyable, the experience more salivating. After licking the sole entirely, he settled on licking on Superman’s toes, sucking on them whole, which sent the Man of Steel into a whole other dimension of pleasure and pain.

“Please, stop!” Superman wheezed, as Feathertouch’s tongue slithered all around his toes, his lips caressing them in the most infuriating way, leaving ticklish chaos in their wake. The toes on both feet were going crazy, as was the doctor’s body; Feathertouch’s body was flooded with the sensation of worshiping Superman’s feet and tickling his powerful frame simultaneously, thanks to the psychic connection with his remote gloves.

In fact, the doctor’s eyes were rolling up as he sucked on Superman’s big toe, his cock throbbing even harder, the sound of the hero’s manic laughter like its own symphony of pleasure, right to his ears.

“Oh damn,” he said, making a loud suction noise as he pulled away from the captive digit. “Your feet and body just taste so good, Clark. Everything about me is soft, you know. And your body is just so hard. So hard and muscular and manly. My senses are filled with pleasure at groping,sniffing, teasing, enjoying your beautiful body.”

Superman wailed louder as the flying gloves attacked his neck area just then, his head flailing side to side as the doctor rubbed his face against his sole again, savoring their size, scent and shape again. Feathertouch closed his eyes, relishing the sound of Superman’s cries, as well as the feel of his electric gloves wracking ticklish pain all over Superman’s body. At the same time, he licked and kissed Superman’s foot again, holding it down as it desperately tried to escape his clutches.

“I just have to cum on these feet, Clark. They’re just too perfect.”

“Stay…stay away from me! Feathertouch! Y-you’re going….g-going to regret this!”

Superman cackled again, his blue eyes shut tightly as more tears dripped down his chiseled face, his dark hair beginning to get matted from sweat.

The doctor took one more kiss on Superman’s toes, then pulled out his cock. He began to rub his unit across Superman’s soles, a sensation that should’ve repulsed the hero on all levels. And while it certainly did (especially since he wasn’t gay and only had room for one person in his life), it also caused him to laugh even harder.

True to his name, Feathertouch’s massive rod was just as soft and tortuous as the rest of his body. His throbbing rod rubbed vigorously against Superman’s feet, making him laugh and howl, spreading precum all over it.

The doctor rolled his head back and moaned, overcome with pleasure, his gloves relaying even more pleasure to his body, pleasure that came from attacking and groping Superman’s body simultaneously. He started to rub his cock harder across each foot, tickling the hero at the same time, amplifying his own joy in the process, his breathing becoming heavier while Superman’s laughter became louder. Superman couldn’t believe the doctor was actually using his own feet as his personal sex toys; he despised the slick and slippery feel of the doctor’s cock against his toes and soles, and yet somehow it only made him laugh even harder.

Feathertouch let out one final moan then finally released, his cum spilling all over Superman’s helpless feet.

Superman cried out angrily, in outrage at what he was feeling. Despite the fact that he knew another man had jizzed all over his feet—which would be enough to make him vomit or scream with disgust—he just couldn’t stop laughing. The doctor would not relent, nor would his remote gloves.

His eyes started flaring red, as if he were trying to will himself free, gazing up at the spotlight on the ceiling helplessly, without any awareness that the spotlight itself was actually the cause of him being so powerless, one of the doctor’s ingenious creations. He was, in every sense of the word, trapped.

Feathertouch sighed happily, then glanced at his own seed dripping down Superman’s soles. Despite not even touching the hero’s feet, his jizz cascaded down the curvy shapes of his soles…and made Superman feel ten times worse.

“What is that?!” Superman cried out. He couldn’t believe it, but even Feathertouch’s jizz had some kind of ticklish effect. The way it rolled over his soles, between his toes, down his tops, felt like a slow, arduous, slippery crawl…that ignited all his ticklish senses all over again.

“Oh yeah. My bodily fluids tend to have that effect on people. I guess it’s just a result of how fragile and dainty I am. Sorry about that!”

Feathertouch chuckled to himself as Superman continued to cry out for help. If not for his own heroic disposition, he would’ve passed out from the extreme stimulation a while ago. His feet continued to twist and move frantically in their bonds, the slow drip of jizz making him even more delirious, somehow tickling him without even touching him. In fact, it made things feel even worse, his suit drenched with sweat by then, his voice growing hoarse.

But even that was not enough for the doctor, who, like most villains from the evil Lodge, only wanted more from their victims.

He felt even more daring. He had actually nutted on the feet of the city’s most legendary hero! He was beyond flattered; what other villain could even make a claim like that? The other members of L.O.S.T. only wished they could get this close.

Feathertouch crawled onto the table, right between Superman’s thick legs. Superman continued to wheeze and squirm, his eyes glazing over, sweat and tears running down his still-handsome face as the gloves flew around him, jolting him each time.

“And you thought I was such a joke, didn’t you Clark? Bet you wish you could take that reaction back now, huh? Just wait until I get my super soft hands on the rest of your team. Imagine the Flash, or Green Lantern, or even Batman on this table. Do you think they would hold up as pathetically as you?”

“Y-you’ll never…never get away with…with this!” Superman bawled with laughter once more, the flying gloves now attacking his pits again, his feet trembling from the continuous slow roll of Feathertouch’s unique cum down their contours.

He could barely even register Feathertouch climbing him, slowly peeling away his red underwear, and instead revealing his own white briefs underneath. The doctor’s eyes widened as he spotted the Man of Steel’s actual steel, highlighted perfectly in their tight designer underwear. It was the shock of a lifetime for the doctor.

“Oh wow,” the doctor said, his jaw falling open.

Superman had a brief moment of sobriety. “Get off me, you scum!” his voice drowned out by his own laughter again.

The doctor took a moment to marvel at something so forbidden, so unthinkable, so mouthwatering—Superman’s actual bulge, which was jaw dropping in size and shape.

His cock started to tent again from the sight of it, a package more than fitting for Metropolis’ golden boy.

“No,” Superman said, shaking his head, a hysterical smile forced on his lips. “Don’t you dare Feathertouch! You’ve crossed a line now! I’m w-warning you!”

The villain merely grinned back at the hero, then let his tongue gently lick the outline of Superman’s cock, from bottom to top.

Superman gasped, his laughter ceasing for just a moment, as a new sensation filled him, his face turning bright red.

It was shame.

He had been frozen, electrocuted, beaten to a bloodied pulp, tossed through buildings, sent soaring through asteroids—yet not one villain had ever dared to actually touch him in his most private of areas. That was always reserved for the love of his life; even Darkseid wouldn’t go there. It seemed the Lodge of Super Ticklers were far more ruthless than he could ever imagine.

The doctor paused his gloves, keeping them hovering in midair, giving Superman a small moment of relief, a chance to catch his breath. But it was not for long. The doctor wanted Superman to feel every bit of his body’s power used against him; he wanted the hero to feel the humiliation, to drive it home, to make a point. He wanted to send a message to the rest of the Justice League. The doctor licked Superman’s bulge again, and the hero squirmed in his bonds again, resisting the sensations—and failing.

“Stop,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Or what?” the doctor said, taking another lick. This time, he noticed Superman’s cock begin to twitch in its underwear, more redness appearing on Superman’s sweaty face.

“Stop!” Superman yelled.

The doctor giggled then licked Superman’s bulge again. This time he felt it twitch even more. Superman began to groan with frustration, his eyes shut tight as pain and embarrassment washed all over his face, his body tensing.

Yet at his cock, there was a very different reaction. Feathertouch used his tongue’s special properties to slowly coax Superman’s cock to become as hard as steel, though he only applied the most minimum of pressure. Superman’s shame was even more palpable, a part of him even feeling guilty for how his body was reacting. He warned and yelled at the doctor, but Feathertouch was beyond reproach.

And worse, he felt even more powerless. It was one thing not to have his superpowers, a situation he had been in before. It was another thing being strapped to a table while some evil villain made him hard and edged him against his will.

The doctor’s tongue was as light as a feather, stroking and teasing Superman’s bulge, making it swell against his will. He did not relent either, despite Superman’s pleas; the doctor continued to lick and tease, Superman’s cock throbbing harder with every little swish, every little flick.

Superman moaned inadvertently, then immediately clamped his mouth shut, even more ashamed of himself.

“Awww,” the doctor said. “No need to feel embarrassed, Clark. We’re just having a little fun. I’m sure your little wifey won’t mind.”

Superman’s eyes once again glowed red, his gaze so intense it could blast a hole right through the doctor’s skull. However, his power remained subdued, unlike his cock, which began to pulse even harder.

Precum started to ooze out of his swollen rod, pressed tightly against the confines of his white underwear. Superman whimpered, experiencing a mixture of feelings: shame, regret, anger, yet also, an undeniable sense of pleasure which also led to guilt. How could he ever explain this to Lois, to the League? He was supposed to lead them. Would they ever understand?

The doctor continued his tender ministrations, licking and kissing Superman’s hard bulge with the gentlest of touches. Another painful moan escaped from Superman’s lips, the hero unable to help himself as his cock strained even harder against its confines, as if struggling to stay inside.

“Why are you doing this?” he said, doing his back to hold back tears, his face tightened.

“Do you even need to ask that question?” Feathertouch said, taking another hearty lick. “Look at you. You’re like a god. Everyone worships you, everyone loves you. And you’re so incredibly hot. To think that someone like me can actually make your body react like this! That in itself is reason alone to do this, Superman.”

The doctor let his tongue swirl around the outline of Superman’s cockhead, immediately making him hiss and groan. He felt his cock pounding in agony against his tight underwear, his balls aching for release, which, of course, would be absolutely off limits for someone as virtuous as himself.

However, the more the doctor licked and teased his cock, the more he was having doubts about his own ability to restrain himself. His fingers and toes clenched, small giggles escaping from his mouth from nervousness, from disbelief, from embarrassment.

His cock continued to throb against his will, becoming stiffer in his underwear, wetter too, so wet that the fabric itself was thinning out. And at the center of it all, Doctor Feathertouch continued to enjoy himself, licking the hero’s bulge like a cat, knowing full well the inner turmoil he was causing. He could see it all over the struggling hero’s face: the shame, the frustration, as well as the urge to release.

“Want to cum?” he said, a cheeky glint in his eyes.

“No!” Superman said, his eyes glowing red again in response.

“Oh come on,” the doctor gently traced the bottom of Superman’s shaft with his fingertip, making the hero hiss and groan, “it will be just between us. I promise I won’t tell Lois.”

“How dare you,” Superman said, gritting his teeth. “Don’t even think about bringing up my wif—ahhhhh!”

Superman’s back arched as the doctor started sucking his cock through his own underwear, building up his desire to cum even more, taking it to extreme heights. He had never wanted to release so badly, though the thought of having to do so at the mercy of such a dastardly villain made him sick to his rock-hard stomach.

He could hardly focus. The doctor’s tongue and lips teased and played with his trapped cock, just as they did with his feet, and the sensations were even more maddening, even more frustrating. He could focus on nothing else.

“I know you want to cum,” the doctor said, a smile forming on his lips, which were greased with the hero’s precum. “Don’t lie to yourself Clark.”

“I wont…I refuse! You’ll have to kill me!”

The doctor laughed. “Don’t be so dramatic. As you know, the members of L.O.S.T. are a nonviolent sort. Still, this cock is so delicious, so big and hefty just like your feet, or the rest of your muscular body. I wonder if you’d be that defiant if I added in some more tickles again.”

Superman’s blue eyes went wide. “D-don’t you dare. Feathertouch, that’s enough!”

The doctor giggled then began to tickle Superman’s balls with his fingertips, right through his underwear. The hero immediately laughed, caught off guard as his swollen balls were overcome by light, feathery sensations, in turn making his cock throb and leak even harder.

“Do you want to cum now?” the doctor said.

“No! Never!” Superman screamed with laughter, as the doctor expertly teased his cock and balls with his fingers, tickling and edging him harder.

“What about now?”

Superman struggled to respond, laughter choking out his verbal responses. However, he groaned briefly, his cock desperate to release, kept on edge by the doctor’s extremely light touch.

“Now?” The doctor gently tickled the shaft, careful not to cause the hero to blow, giving just enough stimulation to make him leak more. Superman giggled crazily, squirming again in his bonds, the desire to cum making his muscles weak.

“P-please stop!” he cried out.

“Now that’s a very different tone than the one you were just using against me. Perhaps you’ve changed your mind?”

“N-never!”

The doctor smiled. He sent out a telepathic wave to his flying gloves, which had been on standby the entire time. They responded to his thoughts and immediately flew to the end of the table, and began to tease Superman’s feet again.

Superman bellowed with laughter, once again taken by surprise. His cock responded by throbbing harder, which in turn caused the doctor to tease it even more with his tongue, forcing more precum to spit out of it. The doctor closed his eyes, relishing in multiple sensations coursing through his nervous system: it felt like he was tickling Superman’s feet though his actual fingers were attending to the hero’s big rod instead. His gloves tickled and jolted Superman’s feet furiously, adding to the unbearable load of sensation that was crashing down on him.

“How about now?” the doctor said with a wicked smile, stroking and teasing Superman’s cock more intensely, while his flying gloves did the same to the hero’s trapped feet.

Superman could not respond; he could only laugh and cry. His face was beet red and covered in sweat and tears, his nose runny. He begged for mercy again, pleaded desperately for it between raspy laughs, but the doctor persisted, never giving in. The cum left on his feet only made his feet even more sensitive while they continued to be tickled aggressively by the doctor’s flying gloves.

“Maybe this will change your mind, Superman.”

The doctor then swooped down and licked the hero’s crotch whole again, from bottom to top, while his actual fingers reached up and went for the pits.

“Stop, please!” Superman’s voice was lost amidst heavy gales of laughter, tickled at all his most sensitive areas at the same time. His cock continued to throb, so hard it felt like it was going to burst from his underwear, which was now paper thin due to the enormous amount of pre soaking all through it.

The doctor opened his mouth and began to suck Superman’s cock again, right through the underwear, his tongue extra careful in the amount of pressure it applied, his fingers tickling Superman’s sides at the same time, sometimes attacking his abs.

Superman continued to wheeze and sob with laughter, his entire body from head to toe burning with overwhelming, insanity-inducing ticklishness. His laughter would turn to moans which would turn to laughter again, his eyes glowing and as red in color as his face. He couldn’t stop himself at all. All restraint had been whittled away by the doctor’s extremely gentle touch.

“Let me cum, let me cum!” he cried out at last, some part of him in disbelief he could even yell something so obscene and vulgar. But his mind and his body couldn’t take it, no matter how strong or how trained he was. The doctor’s touch was as light as a feather, yet as devastating as a bulldozer, crushing Superman’s resolve and spirit. The gloves were like little firecrackers, teasing and jolting his feet into submission, never giving them rest. The doctor’s mouth continued to suck and bring pleasure, so much that Superman’s eyes rolled up repeatedly, even while laughing.

“If you say so,” the doctor said, his lips even more slick with precum.

Finally, the doctor applied more pressure, both on Superman’s feet through his gloves, on his body with his own hands, and then at his cock. He was in full control, and knew exactly how much to apply like an expert physician, sending the Man of Steel into a pit of depravity, his blue eyes glazing over and even crossing from the powerful sensations flooding through him.

Superman stopped laughing and instead moaned, long and painfully and pleasurably. He alternated between grunts and sighs, but always returned to moaning, his fingers and toes clenching, his balls squeezing out multiple loads through his massive member, finally granted the relief he had been searching for. The doctor devoured as much of it as he could, Superman’s underwear like a filter for it all, barely able to hold back the flood, the hero’s cock continuing to pulse and grind. The doctor closed his eyes, savoring the taste of Superman’s delicious seed, his strong body continuing to release in heroic proportions, his breathless and blissful moans reaching the very tall ceiling, his eyes rolling up repeatedly.

When he had finally finished, his eyelids fluttered and his blue eyes rolled up yet again, this time in unconsciousness. He was spent.

The doctor pulled back, drenched in cum. He licked his fingers as if he had just eaten a delicious meal.

“Mm mmm mmm!” He laughed to himself, as Superman lay unconscious on the table, his eyes not even all the way closed, his body as limp as deadwood.

His flying gloves stopped tickling the hero’s feet, which had gone limp and unresponsive. They floated back towards their master, as he pulled his phone out from his lab coat.

“Yes, it’s me, Feathertouch. You guys won’t believe who I just nabbed!”

The young villain hopped off the table to go and clean up, but had plenty more to experiment with Superman, as well as the rest of the League. Superman remained knocked out, his body twitching from the remaining stimulation lingering in his body, his cock finally softening. A tiny smile sometimes formed on his lips, though it faded away again, the doctor’s soft touch leaving an indelible mark on his mind and body.

#malefeet #gay hypnosis #male tickling #tickle torture #gay feet #superhero

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mstgay3000stories · 6 months

Text

Resort Trap

A businessman gets his comeuppance at a resort. Commissioned story. For more of my work, check out:

©mstgay3000, 2023

Most people were intimidated by Malcolm and it was not hard to see why. He was a titan of a man, tall and burly, his bulging muscles flawlessly sculpted. He had cannons for arms (a simple tribal tattoo decorated on one of them), broad shoulders, and powerful pecs on a steely torso. His supple skin was peppered elegantly with patches of wispy dark hair, and he had a set of abs that looked hard enough to break rocks on. Despite being middle aged, he had a full and youthful head of short and thick chocolate brown hair, caterpillar eyebrows,and a healthy well-trimmed beard, complete with mutton chops.

He was staying at a resort with his girlfriend, sitting alone at a tiki bar and sipping on a cocktail. He was shirtless, proudly showing off his muscular and impressive physique, dressed in nothing more than sea green surf shorts, his big meaty feet in sandals. He had a pair of shades on, and, despite being in a relationship, had no shame at all ogling many of the pretty women at the bar.

Malcolm was a womanizing jerk. He was arrogant and haughty, and worse, wildly successful in business and life because of it. He went on exotic vacations regularly, and despite his promises to his girlfriend (who was currently snorkeling), he had cheated on her many times over. He loved the thrill of manipulating people and looked down on anyone weak or poor, oftentimes rude to lower employees or staff. He wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone.

He had just finished his cocktail when a cute female bartender came by with a platter, and handed him another.

“I didn’t order anything,” Malcolm said, scanning the bartender head-to-toe shamelessly. The woman tried not to show her annoyance.

“It’s from that person over there,” she said, pointing to another woman sitting nearby. Malcolm glanced over and spotted a beautifully tanned woman in glasses and a sun hat, sitting under the shade of a canopied table.

“Thanks babe,” Malcolm said. He gave the bartender a hearty spank on her bottom, and she bit her lip to keep herself from saying anything cross.

Malcolm downed the drink, his eyes wandering to the mystery woman in the shade. He expected her to make eye contact with him, but for some reason, she completely ignored him. It only made him more eager for her attention. He loved it when beautiful women played hard-to-get.

However, as soon as he finished his drink, he started to feel strange. His thoughts started to feel scattered, and he felt his strength begin to waver. He looked at his fingers and they started to tremble.

“What the fuck?” he said, his balance beginning to teeter. He leaned over the bar and clutched his temples, his head starting to spin.

Another person approached Malcolm. He was silver-haired, an older man in his sixties, dressed in a tropical button-up shirt, shorts, and loafers. He was an employee at the bar.

“Are you okay, sir?” he said, placing his hand on Malcolm’s boulder-like shoulder.

Malcolm swatted the man’s hand away. “I’m fine,” he said, feeling dizzier. He glanced over at his mystery woman, and she was already talking to someone else, not even paying him any attention. She got up and left.

He couldn’t believe it. Did someone put something in his drink? His eyes searched for the bartender, but she was nowhere in sight. His vision started to blur.

“Jesus,” he said, his head beginning to pound harder. He realized the older employee was still standing nearby.

“What the hell do you want? I’m done handing out cash tips for the day,” he barked, trying to hide his wooziness, rubbing his eyes constantly.

“You look like you need help,” the older man said.

“Who the hell are you? I didn’t….didn’t ask for any help.”

“My name is Derek, not that it matters. Let’s get you out of here.”

Malcolm initially resisted Derek’s assistance, but his mind felt fuzzy again. He felt like he couldn’t say no to anything, his entire body feeling soft and unsteady, a stark contrast to how strong and dominant he usually felt.

“No,” Malcolm said, as Derek helped him from his seat. “That was…was only my second drink…there was something in it….get off me, man!”

The bartender returned as Derek helped Malcolm to stand. “Something wrong, Derek?” she said.

Malcolm looked to the girl for help, his lips quivering. He tried to speak up, but Derek spoke instead.

“He’s fine,” Derek said. “Seems like he had a little too much to drink. I’ll get him back to the hotel.”

The bartender scoffed. “He only had two cocktails,” she said. She looked Malcolm up and down with disdain, as if he were some pathetic geek that couldn’t hold his alcohol. It made Malcolm feel small, something he was unused to feeling. It was embarrassing. He tried to speak up again, but the bartender left him alone with Derek.

“Get away from me. Get your hands off me!” Malcolm said, wincing as his body and mind felt weaker and woozier, his words slurring, his eyes half-lidded. “Yeah, you’re looking a bit sick, my friend,” Derek said. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you all cleaned up, okay? Come along.”

“I’m not your friend…I don’t even know who you are! Someone help me! Get this guy away from me!”

Despite Malcolm’s protests, no one took notice, either too preoccupied with their own affairs, or simply not caring due to Malcolm’s prior bad behavior since he had arrived at the resort. Derek began to lead Malcolm away from the bar, but not towards the hotel. They walked onto the beach, wandering far away from prying eyes, Malcolm stumbling along.

Malcolm tried to fight back. He could’ve easily crushed a weak and older guy like Derek into the sand, but his body felt like it was under someone else’s control; it wouldn’t do anything he wanted, and his mind continued to feel fuzzy, his posture faltering, almost tripping over his big feet from time to time.

“Where are you taking me? I swear to god, man, if you do anything to me….” “Shhh,” Derek said, as they finally reached a quiet and secluded spot on the beach, surrounded by a rocky enclave, far from the other beachgoers. “You’re safe now, Malcolm.”

Malcolm collapsed onto the sand, his body heavy, his mind unfocused, his eyes barely able to stay open. He glanced up at Derek.

“H-how do you know my name?”

Derek smiled, his shadow covering Malcolm’s face.

“Everyone knows who you are, Malcolm. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you at this resort.” Derek began to unbutton his shirt, sending chills through Malcolm’s body. “You probably don’t recognize me. People like you don’t care about the smaller guys like myself. You destroyed my company two years ago, forcing me to go back to work. I wanted to retire, but here I am, working at some shitty resort island instead.”

Derek squatted, fear flashing across Malcolm’s face.

“I always fantasized about getting back at you. So hot, powerful, rich and perfect. I never thought I’d get the chance. Then, while wiping down tables during a grueling shift a couple days ago, imagine my surprise when I see you. Imagine my anger. This was my chance. I can’t ever get my company back, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun.”

Derek took his shirt off, causing Malcolm’s eyes to widen. He tried to sit up but only managed to rise a few inches from the sand, before flopping down again.

“W-whatever you want…I’ll give it to you, okay man? You want money? A check? A business loan? I can give it to you! There’s no need for you to do anything—” Malcolm gulped, “—anything extreme.”

“Oh Malcolm,” Derek said, laying gently next to him on the warm sand. Malcolm wanted to crawl away, but his body remained in place, causing him to whimper. “Since you arrived, all I’ve done for the past couple days is think of getting revenge on you. From the spiked drink, to this hidden enclave, to the cameras I’ve set up,” Malcolm glanced around and noticed several cameras along the rocks, making his face turn pale. “ ‘Extreme’ doesn’t describe what I plan on doing to you.”

Derek playfully tapped Malcolm’s nose, making him wince.

Derek grabbed him by the chin, forcing the woozy hunk to stare at his face. Malcolm tried to show strength, to ward Derek off with a penetrating stare, but his eyes were dilated and his eyelids still heavy. It had the opposite reaction, making Derek laugh, and making Malcolm feel even smaller than when the bartender scoffed at him.

Derek leaned forward and, despite Malcolm’s pathetic murmurs, plunged his mouth onto Malcolm’s luscious and bearded lips. Malcolm’s eyes widened from the shock, from disgust, the terrible reality of his situation finally crashing down on him. He was trapped and there was nowhere else for him to go, and it was all being recorded by the tiny cameras setup in the area. He felt Derek’s tongue slither and slide inside his mouth, yet he remained powerless, his jaw loose as Derek had his way with him.

Derek pulled up with a satisfying sigh, Malcolm glancing at him with horror, his body shaking. “What a great kisser you are,” Derek said. “You taste delicious. If you’re wondering why you can’t fight back, it’s because of the drug that’s swimming in your system, a chemical I devised myself. Of course you would’ve known that, since I did own a pharmaceutical company. But it does something even better than just weakening this big strong body of yours. When I kiss you next, I want you to kiss me back.”

Malcolm tried to protest again, but words would not form in his mouth, his brain feeling even more fried, except for the intense repulsion and shame he felt. When Derek kissed him again, Malcolm was horrified as his mouth and tongue kissed back, against his will. He tried to regain control of himself, but his entire body was no longer under his command, instead only responding to Derek’s suggestions, a consequence of the drug flowing through his veins.

As the two made out, Derek’s hand reached downward and began to feel up the brawn of Malcolm’s hairy chest. His hand glided over his bristly and supple chest, eventually settling onto a juicy pec. He squeezed it, pinching it playfully as his tongue played with Malcolm’s, causing Malcolm’s eyes to water with frustration.

Derek finished kissing. “Awww,” he said, “Look at you. Don’t be sad. Just relax and enjoy this. You don’t want to look ugly for the camera now, do you?”

Derek laughed again, Malcolm too stunned to respond. He knew the cameras were recording his moments of weakness, and it made him sick to his iron stomach.

Derek slithered downwards, licking and kissing Malcolm’s skin as he did so, Malcolm’s tiny body hairs tickling against his nose. He reached a nipple again, and this time began to suckle on it, his lips wrapping around it and making it hard. Malcolm let out a small moan, in spite of how he was feeling, ashamed of his own reactions. His nips were one of his erogenous zones, and Derek had fully invaded.

As Derek kissed and sucked on Malcolm’s tender nip, his hand reached for the other one and began to squeeze and pinch it, teasing it with his fingertips, making Malcolm’s eyes water again. Malcolm felt Derek’s hardness against his own body, making him want to retch, but he could vocalize nothing; all he could do was surrender, stuck in a hazy nightmare that had no ending in sight.

When Derek was finished sucking on his treat, he moved to the other nipple, and began worshiping and licking it as well. His fingers returned to the free nip, which was now erect, and he began squeezing it again between his fingertips, making Malcolm moan louder, his own cock twitching in his shorts against his will. Derek began nibbling and gently tugging at the tender nipple in his mouth, and each time he did, it sent waves of unwanted pleasure through Malcolm’s body, his cock eventually getting stiff. His teeth scraped against the nipple, causing Malcolm to grunt, his cock twitching even more.

“Oh, would you look at that,” Derek said, glancing downwards at the tented spike in Malcolm’s shorts. “Looks like someone’s getting excited.” He laughed again, a sound that formed goosebumps on Malcolm’s skin.

Derek began to wash Malcolm’s hard body with his tongue, letting it glide all over the expansive muscle, his hands groping the rest of Malcolm’s torso as he did so, a sickening feeling for Malcolm, but a blissful one for Derek. Derek moved downwards, his tongue licking and lapping at Malcolm’s rock hard abs, a part of his body Malcolm was always proud of, but now left at the mercy of someone he had only just met. Derek smothered his face against it, his tongue licking at every little ridge, his cock throbbing from the taste and immaculately cut formation. He groaned, nibbling on the beefy ridges, making Malcolm inwardly squirm, his broad chest rising rapidly from his racing heart.

Derek returned upwards, licking and enjoying himself the whole way, eventually reaching Malcolm’s arms. He grabbed one arm, the one with the tat on it, and held it up, marveling at how perfectly chiseled it was, how heavy it was with beefy mass, sinewy from shoulder to wrist.

“Delicious,” Derek said. His tongue bathed the entire arm from the limp wrist to the powerful and rocky shoulder, his lips planting kisses and hungry slurps on each powerfully shaped bicep, each tender tricep, every beautiful tendon. Malcolm murmured feebly, glancing over as his limp arm was raised in the air, Derek feasting on the entire length, his mouth like a leech against all that hard muscle and tasty skin.

Derek positioned the arm so that the hand was now resting beneath Malcolm’s head, the pit left open and vulnerable. He returned to the arm and licked the entire tricep area, groaning with pleasure, sucking on it, biting at it curiously, while Malcolm trembled under his touch. His tongue continued, eventually moving into the pit area itself, causing Malcolm to whimper loudly.

“You…you bastard…you’ll pay for this,” he managed to say, flinching as Derek began to happily worship his entire pit area, his tongue repeatedly swirling around. Derek’s tastebuds were delighted by the musky taste, mixed with Malcolm’s manly deodorant, the pit itself warm from the humid weather; his cock throbbed as he smothered his whole face into the pit, the little hairs brushing against his features, a big smile left on his face.

Malcolm struggled to regain control, but it was always futile. Derek went to the other arm, and began worshiping that one as well, kissing and groping its length, tonguing and slurping on each flawless, hunky muscle. Derek’s tongue slowly glided along the contours of the biceps and triceps again, savoring their natural taste and texture, even the little dark hairs etched on them, fully enjoying how limp the heavy-weighted limb was. Malcolm’s muscles twitched nervously, yet his body remained still, Malcolm unable to fight back as Derek devoured his arm’s length.

As with the other arm, Derek eventually positioned Malcolm’s hand beneath his head, so now it looked like he was relaxing on the beach with both hands cradling the back of his head, both armpits now left in the open.

“I swear…y-you’re going to regret this,” Malcolm managed to spit out, his bearded mouth tightening in revulsion. But Derek only chuckled. With a sly smile, he moved into the pit area, sucking and lapping it up with renewed hunger, his cock once again throbbing from its warm and fragrant taste, the ticklish pit hairs, the soft and sensual skin.

As Derek feasted, his hand reached for Malcolm’s nipples and began pinching and squeezing them again, causing Malcolm to shudder and groan through gritted teeth. More importantly, it caused Malcolm’s own member to throb yet again, tenting even harder in his shorts.

“You really like that, don’t you?” Derek said, taking another lick against Malcolm’s pit, his fingers taking turns playfully squeezing each pert nipple. Malcolm groaned again, hissing through his teeth, despising every moment, while Derek enjoyed himself.

Once satisfied, Derek left Malcolm in that position, Malcolm’s cock still tenting high in his shorts. “Well,” he said, straddling Malcolm and filling him with dread, “let’s see what all the fuss is about inside these shorts, shall we?”

Malcolm mumbled, then managed to spit out a few words: “D-don’t you dare!” Despite his relaxed pose, he was extremely anxious, and tried once again to forcefully will his body to snap out of it. But Derek’s drug was far too powerful.

Derek began to slowly and playfully tug at Malcolm’s shorts, revealing his lower body inch by inch, from the sharp v-line at his waist, the first few patches of pubic hair, then finally, a large and massive member, with two large balls below it. Once Malcolm’s erect cock was revealed, freed from the shorts, it rebounded backwards and hit him in his own abs, making him flinch.

“Ahh,” Derek said, taking hold of Malcolm’s meat, causing the hunk’s face to blush a deep red from both shock-pleasure and shame. “No wonder you’re so arrogant. With a hog like this, who wouldn’t be?”

Malcolm whimpered, his teeth clenched, his body filled with dread. But there was nothing he could do.

Derek began to lick the member in his hand. It throbbed heavily, heating up between his fingers, a bead of precum forming at the tip. Malcolm groaned, his entire body trembling from a mixture of anger and shame, still stuck in his vulnerable, embarrassing position. Derek’s tongue swirled around the tip, wetting itself with Malcolm’s pre, which in turn caused more to ooze out, Malcolm’s eyes gazing hatefully out. Derek’s tongue responded by lapping at Malcolm’s cock even more like some summer treat, his hand stroking the captive member steadily, teasing Malcolm further—and then he devoured it.

Malcolm groaned in agony, his body filling with pleasure as Derek started sucking him down. Malcolm’s burly body tensed and his lips quivered, his toes clenching as he tried to resist the onslaught of pleasure filling his body, his balls tightening. He couldn’t believe that he was getting off from another man, his cock soon aching for release as Derek serviced it. It was disgraceful, it was vile, it was gay, which he most certainly was not. He hated every second, which only made Derek’s enjoyment that much sweeter.

Malcolm moaned miserably, his cock throbbing harder as Derek sucked him down, his body tensing from the pleasure, his eyelids fluttering.

Then, he shut his eyes tightly as Derek finally brought him to the finish line, his cock hardening before releasing a heavy load of hot white jizz, which poured down Derek’s throat. Derek drank it down happily, and when he was finished, he smiled back at Malcolm, the sight revolting him.

“You seem upset,” Derek said, licking his lips. “Perhaps you’d like a taste of cock yourself? It really is good, you know.”

Malcolm began to sputter incoherently again, so stressed he could barely form a sentence, barely even able to shake his head. But Derek wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Derek straddled Malcolm’s broad chest, causing him to whimper helplessly again. He pulled out his own tool, throbbing and slick with precum, and began to approach Malcolm’s mouth.

“Open wide,” Derek said with a vicious grin. Malcolm tried to disobey, his lips quivering as he held them together with every last inch of willpower he possessed. His body trembled, his eyes shut tightly, doing his best to deny Derek. But once again, his body was compelled to obey. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn't say no. He reluctantly opened his jaw, and a few moments later, Derek filled it.

Derek flung his head back with pleasure and began fucking Malcolm’s mouth. Malcolm’s eyes teared up from the pressure and the girth, his cheeks full as Derek rammed himself down his thick throat. Derek took hold of Malcolm’s thick hair, running his fingers through it, and also using it to control Malcolm’s skull, forcing him to take him down. Malcolm’s eyes rolled up, his nostrils flaring, as Derek rammed against his face repeatedly, precum dribbling down his throat, his tastebuds immersed in the taste of Derek’s meat.

Then, Derek moaned. To Malcolm’s disgust, cum filled his throat for the first time, making his eyes and nose leak. He gagged, but Derek forced him to drink it, his fingers digging into Malcolm’s skull. Derek pulled out then clamped Malcolm’s jaw shut with his fingers, their eyes staring at each other.

“Drink it all up, Malcolm. It’ll do your body good.” Derek smiled as Malcolm’s lips quivered again, sputtering with drops of cum as he quietly gulped the remnants down, Malcolm’s eyes filled with a seething rage that he couldn’t express.

Derek hopped off and laughed, leaving Malcolm stuck in the same position, only now his beard and face were covered in sweat and jizz.

He moved down to Malcolm’s legs, his hands stroking down each thick and hairy limb, which were more like massive tree trunks, in the process pulling down the rest of his shorts. He yanked the shorts off Malcolm’s huge feet, then began to remove the sandals one by one, leaving Malcolm’s feet bare on the sand.

“What big feet you have,” Derek said, his eyes lighting up, his cock once again stiffening. “Let’s have a taste.”

Malcolm groaned in agony, his body still limp and powerless, the taste of jizz still burning in his mouth and nose, as Derek lifted one massive leg and beheld a large, manly, wide foot. Derek rubbed his nose against the heavy arch, taking in its sweaty scent, then followed it with a slow, long, and sumptuous lick, his body brimming with excitement. He lapped the foot several times, enjoying the taste, made better with its natural perspiration. He indulged in the shape and texture, the sexy foot bigger than his head, his enjoyment amplified by Malcolm’s whining whimpers and hateful stares. His mouth moved upwards, sucking on Malcolm’s powerful toes, each toe wriggling helplessly between his lips, fueling his cock with every movement, as well as their musky taste.

“Well I was right. Was fucking delicious,” Derek said, taking one more slobbering lick across the entire sole.

He dropped the foot to the sand, where it fell like a lead weight, then moved to the other foot. He held it up, then lapped and licked it as well, craning his neck to get at every angle, swirling his tongue around the hefty heel, nibbling on the ball and the upper mound. He sampled the toes again, sucking on them luxuriously, all while staring Malcolm right in his eyes, taunting him to do something about it.

But all Malcolm could do was groan and murmur helplessly, his toes twitching involuntarily between Derek’s hungry lips.

Derek took both feet together and worshiped them heavily, sucking on all ten toes, ravishing each delicious sole, making Malcolm squirm inwardly with his hungry tongue and slurping. Then, things got even worse for Malcolm: Derek started fucking Malcolm’s feet, squeezing his cock between them. Malcolm groaned in agony, his nostrils flaring in anger as his feet were used as fucktoys. He knew everything was being recorded, and he hated it all, especially the way Derek gloated over his own body. But still, he couldn’t change a thing no matter how hard he tried.

Derek thrusts become more savage, his pleasure increasing, more precum splashing on Malcolm’s feet, which sickened Malcolm even more.

“Use your toes now…come on Malcolm….you can do it.”

Malcolm resisted as hard as he could, whimpering again. But it was no use. His toes came to life, gripping Derek’s throbbing meat as it slid back and forth between each huge foot, his body a willing participant despite how much he despised it. Derek moaned, thrusting harder, enjoying the feel of those sexy paws crushing his cock. Then, he let loose with another load, covering Malcolm’s feet and toes with more creamy jizz, revolting Malcolm to his core in the process.

Derek let both feet drop to the sand, wet and sticky.

“You know, as hot as all this was, I’m still horny. I think there’s one more thing we can do before I let you go.”

“P-please,” Malcolm muttered, using all his strength to spit out the words. “No…no more…you’ve won, okay? P-please….let me go….”

Derek smiled, then shook his head. To Malcolm’s horror, he raised Malcolm’s legs, exposing his fat bottom, and his tiny pink hole. Malcolm groaned louder, trying to plead with Derek with his eyes, with his mumbling voice, with the last bit of strength he could gather.

But Derek remained as merciless as Malcolm was to him, years ago.

Derek hooked Malcolm’s huge legs over his shoulders, then began to penetrate him. Malcolm shut his eyes in pain, groaning miserably while his fingers and toes clenched. Derek slowly made his way inside his huge body, his tight hole opening up for the first time.

“Don’t worry….first time always stings a little,” Derek said with a chuckle, his face flush with desire.

Once inside, Derek began to push. He began thrusting inside of Malcolm, opening him up even more, activating pleasure centers in the hunk’s body he didn’t even know existed. Malcolm groaned and grunted with every thrust, his cum-covered feet beginning to bounce on Derek’s shoulders, his toes clenching. His cock started to rise as Derek hit his prostate, jabbing it with his own engorged member, waves of pleasure and agony spreading all over Malcolm’s body.

Malcolm began to whimper again, but not from misery—the pleasure was becoming so great that precum began to leak from his own rod, Derek’s steady thrusting making him lose grip on reality, on himself. He tried to stop himself from moaning along, fully aware it might look like he was complicit in this according to the cameras, but once again, he was powerless to do so.

“Ohhh fuck,” he managed to mutter, his eyes hazy.

“That’s it,” Derek said with a vicious grin, picking up the speed, “enjoy the ride.”

Derek thrusted harder and faster, Malcolm’s legs bouncing higher, both of them moaning together, their pleasure doubling, their bodies hard and sweaty. Derek let out a final moan, long and slowly, releasing the biggest load yet inside of Malcolm. Malcolm’s eyes rolled up and he moaned as well, his huge cock pumping out cum in response, splattering all over his own abs, his body, his face.

He was overwhelmed. It was too much. His mind couldn’t take any more, nor could his body. His vision went blurry, a smile forming on his face as pleasure lulled his brain to sleep, his body exhausted. The last thing he saw was Derek’s face, smiling wickedly at him, Derek’s laughter echoing in his ears.

*****

When Malcolm opened his eyes, he was relieved to see he was on the beach. He heard the crashing waves, and sounds of seagulls in the air, the smell of the salty beach air tingling his nose.

Then, he heard screams.

Then, his awareness returned, along with a pounding headache.

Then, he realized he was tied up in the beach, and worse, still in the same hidden enclave since he had been captured. He was tied tightly head to toe in several ropes, his bulging arms pressed tightly against his body, his big feet tied at the ankles and wriggling around like the tail end of a fish.

“What the fuck!” he screamed. He was still naked and could barely move due to his constraints. And worse, there was a crowd of people staring at him, pointing and laughing, murmuring, and even taking photos.

Crude drawings were left on his body, cartoon images of big dicks, mixed with the words ‘fag’, ‘gay’, and ‘cum slut’.

The cum had dried on his body, his beard, his face, and his feet, making things look even worse. He looked like he had just engaged in a wild night of bondage and sex, and had fallen asleep afterwards, which was only partially true. The noise of everyone ogling him like some sideshow attraction filled him with anger—but also a deep and profound embarrassment.

He felt his eyes watering, but refused to cry over it. He felt his face getting hot, his stomach filling with butterflies.

“Get me the fuck out of here!” he yelled out, rolling side to side on the sand and trying to break free from his bonds. Then, he noticed the same cute bartender from earlier. His face went pale when he spotted her, as she burst into laughter, pointing at him like some freak. There was no respect, no admiration, no fear from anyone in the crowd. There was only laughter, and Malcolm’s own palpable humiliation.

But things didn’t end just there for Malcolm. There was already footage circulating the internet of his time spent with some ‘mystery man’, and Malcolm’s many enemies were already jumping for joy from it. Malcolm let out a final roar, his anger and shame peaking, the crowd of people spectating his downfall only growing larger.

#malefeet #gayfeet #jock #humiliation #rule 34 #mstgay3000

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mstgay3000stories · 7 months

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Frat4Sale: Crave

Another story about a lazy roommate :) Commissioned by Habernath. Hope you enjoy! For more, check out this link:

Kristopher was only twenty one, a junior at college, and quite a looker in his own right. He had brown hair styled high, dark eyes, and a clean cut, boyish face with kissable, pouty lips. When he smiled, it was mischievous and playful, highlighting his best features, and making him even more irresistible.

He took great care of his body too. He often worked out, shaved frequently, and remained fit and trim, oftentimes going out shirtless in public just because he could. He had the girls at campus fawning all over him, and had plenty of notches on his bedpost to prove it.

And yet, despite his stunning looks, he was a total slob at home. He knew it. Everyone that knew him knew it. But he didn’t care.

He even had a roommate at one point, who could vouch firsthand for his poor personal habits: a young man named Melvin.

Melvin and Kris didn’t really get along. Melvin was rather uptight, and not only was Kris a slob, he was also an ass. Melvin would pick up after Kris whenever he left his clothes lying around, or whenever he left his dishes in the sink, or left food out everywhere, and any time Melvin tried to bring the issue up, Kris dismissed him or even mocked him. Sometimes, Kris would walk around shirtless while snacking, shamelessly dropping food or crumbs all over his hard, perfectly sculpted chest.

“Uh, you got food on you,” Melvin would say.

“Why don’t you lick it off then?” Kris would reply, laughing mischievously as he sauntered away, leaving more crumbs on the freshly vacuumed floor.

Living with someone so careless was certainly difficult for Melvin. But it was balanced by the fact that he found Kris overwhelmingly attractive. He, like the many girls Kris had fucked over the years, had no problem cleaning up after him if it meant he could ogle his perfect body just a little bit longer. Fortunately, Kris never caught on, and if he had, he would have made life even more miserable for the sophomore.

Kris moved out of the apartment the next year, but Melvin still missed getting glimpses at Kris’ perfect form, from his amazing chest, to his perfect rear, to his tasty, sexy feet. How could someone so sloppy be so incredibly hot? One of life’s mysteries, he supposed.

When a friend recommended the Frat4sale website to him, he was absolutely floored to discover his old roommate on it. He knew that Kris was part of some type of frat and was strangely defensive about it whenever he inquired. Now he knew the reason why.

He had heard several stories from others about the mysterious Aaron, the guy that ran the website and the frat, and it always seemed so implausible. A guy that could mind control others? It sounded ridiculous.

It didn’t stop him from pursuing a session, especially since Kristopher was available. There was no way he was letting that opportunity slide. Besides, he would know right away if it was fake or not given Kris’ reactions to it when meeting; the guy was as straight as a horizontal line.

He had saved up enough money since moving out to buy a session that lasted about a few days. He described the scenario to Aaron through a detailed email, a little something that had been born from his own private fantasies.

In his scenario, he wanted to be roommates with Kris again, to briefly relive their torturous time together, but under very different circumstances. Kris would appear at his apartment, and be back to his usual jerkwad self. He would take off his clothes, walk around shirtless, and be as messy and asinine as always, only this time there would be a penalty that came in the form of The Douchebag Jar.

The Douchebag Jar would require Kris to put money into it anytime he ‘broke’ any one of Melvin’s rules regarding tidiness. Anytime he left his clothes around? A dollar in the jar. Food on his chest? More money for the jar. Etc, etc.

However, each time, Kris would find himself inexplicably unable to pay. He would still have to pay the price for his infractions—and Melvin was going to make him pay with his body. If Kris was under control, as Aaron claimed, then his requests should pose no problem.

He was surprised when he got an email back from Aaron. Everything he had detailed could be easily arranged, all that needed was payment. Melvin sent the money, then waited for his day to arrive, feeling anxious and even doubtful. He wondered why he had blown so much money in the first place. He even made a Douchebag Jar just for fun out of a mason jar and a taped piece of paper, with the words boldly spelled out. He didn’t expect to use it. The whole thing was probably a hoax anyway.

On the appointed day, he heard his doorbell ring and rushed to answer it. He held his breath for a moment, half-expecting it to be anyone other than Kristopher, but when he opened the door, his mouth slipped open.

Kristopher was back. Melvin gawked at him for a few moments, scanning him up and down with disbelief, yet there he was, with the same surly look on his face, his muscles bulging through his thin cotton shirt.

“Move?” he said.

Melvin regained his senses and got out the way. Kristopher barged in, his gym bag slung over his shoulder.

“H-how are you, Kris? Nice to see you and—”

Kristopher ignored him and headed to his old room, as if he had lived there the whole time, then shut the door without a word. Just like the old days….

Melvin sat down on the couch to take a breath. He couldn’t get over it. Was Frat4sale real? His eyes wandered over to the Douchebag Jar on the coffee table and he felt a tinge of anticipation hit his cock.

Only one way to find out.

Kristopher came out a short while later and headed to the kitchen.

“What’s to eat?” he said.

Melvin stared at him. He had taken off his shirt, and was walking around in shorts and socks. Melvin’s eyes scanned his fine, muscular, hairless body, his cock rumbling between his legs. It was like they really were roommates again.

“Hello?” Kris said, opening the fridge. “You deaf or something?”

Melvin collected himself. “Oh, uh, I don’t know. Haven’t been to the store lately.”

Kris groaned loudly, and instead of being annoyed, as usual, Melvin felt giddy.

Kris slammed the fridge then headed to the pantry, and returned with a bag of chips that Melvin was saving for lunch the next day. He opened it without asking, then shoveled a handful into his mouth, crumbs falling all over his bare chest.

He headed to the living room then slumped into a sofa chair and continued to eat messily, chewing with his mouth open, as more and more crumbs tumbled onto his skin. Melvin stared at him from the couch, his heart thumping.

“What’s that?” Kris said, nodding his head towards the Douchebag Jar on the table.

“That’s uh, the Douchebag Jar.”

“The fuck is a Douche Jar?” Kris said, eating even more noisily.

“That’s Douchebag Jar, and it’s part of, uh, the new rules I’ve set up here.”

“Yeah? What kinda rules?” Kris burped, startling Melvin. He felt so nervous he could hardly articulate himself.

“Right. Uh, starting today, anytime you make a mess in the house, you need to put a dollar in the jar.”

They stared at each other silently for a moment. Melvin thought Kris was going to burst into laughter, or cuss at him for something so idiotic. Instead, Kris looked down at the mess he made on his bare chest, crumbs strewn about.

“Fuck.” He ate a single chip, spilling even more crumbs onto his flawless torso.

“Yeah….”

“Well I don’t got a dollar, bruh. So now what?” Kris stuffed his face again.

Melvin took a deep breath. It was now or never!

“You need to pay up, and since you don’t have any money, uh, I’ll need to...need to take something from you. From your body.”

“What, you gonna cut my finger off or something?” Kris laughed in his familiar, childish laugh.

“No, I mean, uh,” Melvin took a breath, then stood up, “oh fuck it, you need to pay up by doing anything I say, that’s what. And right now, since you have no money whatsoever, I demand that you let me eat those crumbs off your chest.”

Melvin felt his cheeks turn red. Did he really just blurt that all out? He immediately regretted it. It always felt so much better in his fantasies.

Kris gawped at him quietly. While Melvin couldn’t see it, the jock’s brain was already going off, Aaron’s conditioning running through it like engine oil, twisting and changing his natural reactions, subduing his natural jock instincts to laugh and bully.

Instead, Kris broke the tension with a sigh, then tossed the bag of chips onto the floor. “Fuck, man, I knew I shouldn’t have moved back in. These rules are gonna kill me. Alright, fine.”

Melvin’s eyes widened. “Fine? What do you mean, ‘fine’?”

“I mean, fine, you can eat these crumbs off my chest. Whatever. Stupid rule, but I got no money on me, so I guess it’s fair.”

Melvin almost fell back onto the couch. He could hardly speak or even think at that point. Did he just hear what he thought he heard?

“Well? What are you waiting for? Hurry up, bruh, I don’t got all day.” Kris grabbed a few more chips from the bag and chomped on them as awaited his fate.

He flexed his chest, inadvertently teasing Melvin with it. Melvin felt the temperature rise in his pants.

He gulped, then approached Kris, falling to his knees. He stared at his beautiful chest, covered in scattered, salty bits and pieces. He half expected Kris to punch him right in the face, but instead, he merely gazed at him with his usual irritable, impatient look. It was as if they were conducting a simple business transaction, that Kris wanted to get over with as fast as possible.

But it was more than that. It was a simple transaction that had given Melvin a full-on boner!

Melvin’s lips quivered as he stared at the fallen food on Kris’ chest. His cock throbbed heavily down below, turned on even more by Kris’ uncharacteristic permissiveness. He had always wanted to do this, and couldn’t believe he finally had his chance!

He noticed a rather large chip resting comfortably on Kris’ pec. His head leaned towards it, and, with his gaze locked with Kris’, he gingerly ate the chip right off the unaware jock’s chest, munching on it quietly.

He felt a rush throughout his whole body. The taste of barbecue and salt greeted his tastebuds, but the fact it had been removed from Kris’ body by his own mouth electrified him. He felt emboldened, his cock growing even more in his underwear. His head plunged forward, unable to contain himself, as he let his lips sink onto Kris’ entire pec, swallowing up the surrounding crumbs in the area. His lips slid along the surface, causing his eyelids to flutter as the delectable taste of Kris’ skin filled his senses.

“Fuck me,” Kris said in disgust. Yet, he didn’t move in his seat. His brain accepted the ‘punishment’ he was receiving, though ordinarily he would’ve tossed Melvin onto his backside by now.

Melvin, however, felt consumed with desire, his cock raging below. His lips smacked on Kris’ pec, sometimes taking a moment to chew the loose bits of food in his mouth. His tongue swirled around Kris’ nipple, causing it to get hard, while Kris grunted uncomfortably. He let his fingers squeeze the other pec, plumping up the muscle, while his tongue hounded the other one, the salty and sweet taste of the chips complementing the taste of Kris’ body.

He gently bit into Kris’ chest next, causing the jock to moan and swear at him, but he was so horny he didn’t care. He ate the chips right off his skin first, then chewed on the nipple hungrily, enjoying the strange, sweet and salty taste, erotic and delicious.

“Christ, dude, the fuck are you doing?”

“Gotta...pay the...price….bruh…”

He never used the word ‘bruh’, but it amused him to do so. Kris squirmed in his seat as Melvin continued to bite and lick his chest, crumbs disappearing one by one. He turned his attention to the other nipple and licked it to hardness, moaning with pleasure, enjoying the salty taste on his lips. He licked his lips, then gently bit into the muscled area, as if he were taking the first bite into some luscious peach, causing Kris to howl. Then he treated the nipple to the same service, swirling his tongue around it lasciviously, before gently nibbling on it as if it were a piece of jerky. Kris grit his teeth, but endured, while Melvin spoiled himself at his expense.

But he didn’t stop there. He couldn’t. His hunger caused him to lick the rest of his torso, moving down to his muscled abs, chasing any stray crumbs he could find. He gnawed on the ridges of Kris’ stomach, causing him to shriek again. Kris swore even more, but Melvin noticed he didn’t kick him off at all; he knew he could get away with anything he wanted to at that point. He licked the ridges of his abs, his cock leaking profusely in his jeans, then moved up to the chest again, licking a pathway up to the arms.

He had cleaned up most of the food by now off the torso, but his hunger wasn’t sated. He moved to Kris’ armpit.

“Oh come on. Why the armpit?” Kris said. Melvin explained that he was simply following through with the price that was owed him. Kris reluctantly gave in, his dark eyes shooting daggers at Melvin.

Melvin pinned his arm up against the couch, then licked the newly exposed armpit, basking in the sweaty, musky taste, even finding a few morsels that had fallen there, straight from Kris’ chest. He licked the area ravenously, to Kris’ disgust, a far different flavor than the one at his chest, but one that was just as tantalizing. The jock’s natural scent and deodorant aroma was a treat for him, one that he spent several moments indulging in, lick after lick. He then moved to the triceps. He licked Kris’ triceps while Kris scowled at him, taking great pleasure in feeling the smooth, yet bulging ridges of his underarm; his tongue moved up and licked the biceps as well, his lips smacking and plump, leaving red marks all across the jock’s skin.

“You done yet?” Kris said.

Melvin shook his head. He licked his way across Kris’ broad shoulders to the other arm, where he sucked and groped at his arm muscles, sating his hunger just a little bit more, then forced Kris to expose his pit. Once again, he went after Kris’ tender underarm area, collecting a whole new layer of musk and tastiness on his tongue, while Kris looked on with annoyance. Melvin felt like his cock was bursting. He spent several moments licking the area, building up even more lust, before allowing Kris to drop his arm.

“Now are you finished? You fucking weirdo.”

Melvin wiped his mouth, catching a few breaths. “No. The payment came up a little...short.”

Kris rolled his eyes. “What else you need?”

“Kiss me.”

Kris’ eyes widened in shock, but his brain wouldn’t let him deny Melvin’s request. His fingers curled into fists, and he shook his head in a threatening manner, but Aaron’s control was unassailable. They shared a tense moment before he finally agreed to it, cursing under his breath.

“Don’t be like that,” Melvin said, wiping the crumbs from his own face. “I’m just trying to keep this place nice and clean.”

“Whatever.”

Melvin laughed, then grabbed the back of Kris’ head, and plunged in. He moaned when their lips made contact, while his tongue invaded the mouth. He noticed Kris scowling, which amused him: he enjoyed delivering the taste of his own body back to the jock, as the taste of Kris’ body and barbecue flavored chips still lingered on the tip of his tongue. Kris looked uncomfortable throughout the entire encounter, while Melvin made out passionately with him, gasping for breath at times from how horny he was, his body writhing. He was so turned on from the kissing, and the thought of Kris tasting himself indirectly through his tongue, that he ended up cumming in his jeans. His body trembled as he released, yet his lips remained locked on Kris, forcing him to keep up with him.

Melvin finally got off, and Kris wiped his mouth with his arm. His chest was glossy with saliva, but, finally, spotless. He noticed the wet spot at Melvin’s crotch and was even more repulsed.

“Now we’re done,” Melvin said breathlessly. He grinned then left Kris alone in the living room, and returned to his own room. He was in disbelief at what he had just accomplished. He was so excited he even texted his friend about it, who was glad he was finally getting a bit of revenge on the messy jock.

The Douchebag Jar actually worked! And if he could get away with eating scraps from Kris’ body and making out with him, what else could he do to him during his stay? He had the next few days to entertain himself, and decided to take it slow.

The next time he saw Kris was later on in the evening, a few hours later.

He was shirtless again, but this time, his socked feet were on the coffee table while he watched a game. He sipped on a beer and didn’t even comment on Melvin’s presence. Melvin turned off the TV.

“The fuck?”

“Excuse me,” Melvin said, standing in front of the blackened display, “but I see another Douchebag Jar violation.”

Kris glared at him. “Are you fucking kidding me? Where?”

Melvin pointed to Kris’ socked feet on the table. Kris looked upset.

“I don’t got any money on me.”

“That’s okay. Stay right there, this won’t take long.”

“Man, are you gonna mess with me again?”

“You gotta pay the price, Kris. It’s what we agreed to.”

Kris swore again, but did as he was told and remained in his seat—allowing Melvin to kneel right in front of his socked soles.

He took a moment to savor the sight before him: two big socked size twelves sitting innocently on the table, teasing him with their sexy arches and toe length, the outlines looking utterly amazing. He caught a glimpse of Kris’ annoyed face between his feet, which made him chuckle. It served the messy fucker right!

He let his hands run along the jock’s socked feet, taking in their heft, his cock once again rising. The smell wafted into his nose, awakening his senses, putting him on edge. His mouth watered. He couldn’t wait to get those socks off!

He let his face run along the edges of Kris’ soles first, causing him to voice his disgust. He even felt his toes wiggle in his socks, and yet, Kris was still sitting there, putting up with his ‘punishment’, just as he was ordered.

Melvin pulled off a sock, and was floored. He knew what Kris’ feet looked like from their time together; he had fantasized about them often. But to be this close to them! He gazed up and down the wide, perfect sole, the incredible arch, the amazing toes. He pulled off the other sock, and was greeted with the foot’s partner, two perfect snacks just begging to be devoured by him. His cock was fully rigid and ready to go, despite the grumpy expression on Kris’ face.

He let his face run along the length of both feet again, warming himself up even more, not at all put off by Kris’ jeers and impatient tongue clicks. The jock’s feet were so warm and soft, so perfect, just like the rest of his body. There was a tangy, wonderful scent emanating from them, which drove Melvin even more wild.

He opened his mouth, and when his tongue made contact, his entire body shuddered.

“Fuckin’ nasty,” Kris said, folding his arms and looking away. Melvin didn’t care. The jock’s feet were a dream! His tongue licked up and down the soles, his cock throbbing heavily from the taste and texture. He took turns licking each sole, his neck craning up and down while his tongue lapped away furiously. Sometimes Kris would wiggle or spread his toes in revulsion, but it only heated Melvin’s loins even more. He couldn’t wait to get at those next!

He put Kris’ feet on top of each other, ignoring his protests the same way Kris ignored his own about cleaning up. Then, he allowed himself to take long, luxurious swipes right up both soles, causing them to tense, his own cock leaking profusely. He pressed his face against them and nuzzled his nose against the arches, taking in more of the scent, his mouth taking its turn from time to time to take in more of that authentic jock-boy taste.

He placed both feet side by side again, then brought the toes to his face. Kris flexed his toes back, which was the best he could do to avoid him, but Melvin held him down firmly anyways, feeling a slight rush of power at having so much control over the jock. He sighed happily as he let his nose run along the bottoms of all ten toes, breathing in their rich scent, enjoying the way they twitched and moved around.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Kristopher said. “This is some sick shit, bruh.”

“That’s funny, I used to say the same thing about your personal habits.”

Melvin let his tongue have a taste of Kris’ amazing toes, then moaned in satisfaction: Kris’ feet were delicious by themselves, but the toes had an even better flavor, and the jock’s reactions were a wonderful added bonus.

His tongue ran all over the toes, spreading them apart, allowing him to enjoy them even more. He opened his mouth and started sucking on them, fulfilling a fantasy he had harbored the entire time he used to live with Kris, his cock shooting out precum as soon as he tasted them.

He moaned breathlessly as he sucked toe after toe, spending a few moments with each one, his head bobbing up and down while his fingers pressed into the soles. Kris’ toes writhed inside his mouth, clenching futilely at times, yet he was powerless to Melvin’s assault. The jock could barely look anymore, and he hated the feeling of it. Yet, he felt ‘obligated’ by some strange compulsion regardless, though he couldn’t understand why.

Melvin had worked himself into a frenzy, and needed to get some release. Everything about Kris’ feet had fulfilled his deepest fantasies. He whipped out his cock (noting Kris’ even more extreme reactions), then daringly started rubbing them across his soles, squirting his precum all over it.

“Are you fucking serious? What the fuck?” Kris said.

“You only brought this on yourself, Kris. Time to collect the rest of your fine!”

He grabbed Kris’ feet and let his cock rub against the soles, moaning happily while his shaft quivered in his hand. He anointed the bottoms of his toes with precum, ensuring that it got between them, delighting in the way Kris spread them apart from shock, which only made delivering his precum easier.

At last, he grabbed the jock’s big feet and wedged his cock between them. Kris covered his face, while Melvin took his wet and slick, throbbing, veiny cock, and began moving in and out between the tight space between the jock’s soles. Kris constantly swore, yet he remained powerless, his face flinching. He knew what he had to do. The price had to be paid.

Melvin sighed and moaned breathlessly, working his cock up more and more, his balls ready to burst. He couldn’t believe he was actually fucking Kristopher’s feet, and every thrust felt incredibly satisfying, his cock thrilled by the sensations running through it. The fact that Kris hated it made it even more enjoyable, and the expression on his face was priceless. He thrust harder and harder, and shouted after one final, bigger thrust, cumming at last, and releasing copious amounts of his jizz all over Kris’ feet and legs. The jock groaned in disgust, and when Melvin was finished, he pulled away, leaving the jock’s feet a cum-covered mess. It was a mess that, for once, he was proud of.

He grabbed Kris’ socks.

“What are you doing with my socks? Hey, wait!”

Melvin started putting the socks back on Kris’ feet, slapping his hands away whenever he tried to stop him.

“This is the last thing, promise.” He covered them back up, and loved how they immediately began to dampen from the new layer of cum on Kris’ soles and toes.

“What the fuck, bruh?”

“I want you to wear these the rest of the night. Then you can consider your infraction paid for.”

“But I’m going out with the bros later tonight!”

“Well...make sure you take a shower when you get back.” He winked, then left, leaving Kris feeling even more agitated and confused.

Kris left for the rest of the night in a sour mood, but Melvin noticed he did his best not to make any more offenses. Melvin spent the rest of the evening relaxing, overjoyed with what he had accomplished on the first day alone, his cock taking a much needed break.

The next day, he woke up to find Kris wasn’t anywhere to be found. He prepared breakfast for himself, and was surprised to find Kris enter through the front door.

“Hey,” he said. Kris ignored him again. He looked like he had just worked out. He was in gym clothes, and they looked damp.

However, Melvin noticed he started undressing right in the hallway. He watched as he took off his socks and shoes, then the rest of his clothes, leaving them strewn all over the floor, a particularly nasty habit he used to indulge in back when they lived together.

But this time, there would be no futile pleading with him. Kris got down to his jockstrap, and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. Melvin stopped him by blocking him in the hall.

“Uh, move?” Kris said. Melvin took a moment to observe Kris’ gorgeous body, his beautiful ass sticking out behind him in all its bare glory, his strap bulging with meat.

“Look at the mess you’ve made. Clothes all over the floor? Oh yeah, you need to pay the Douchebag Jar, no exceptions.”

Kris was in disbelief. “Are you serious? Do I look like I got my fucking wallet on me?”

“Oh. That’s unfortunate. Guess that means you’ll have to pay another way. You can meet me on the couch.”

Melvin walked past him. Kris hit the wall with his fist, but felt compelled to do as Melvin said anyways. Melvin was already seated in the living room when he entered it, a big, excited grin on his face.

He couldn’t wait to dole out the next ‘punishment’, especially with Kris already dressed for the occasion. The jock stood in front of the TV, his jock strap meeting Melvin’s eye level, his arms folded.

“What now?” he said. “Fuck, I don’t even know why I’m doing this shit, this is so unlike me.”

Melvin smiled.

“I want you to come over here and turn around. I’m gonna spank you, maybe rim you a bit, finger fuck you, then fuck you for real. What do you say to that?”

Melvin loved the outrage on Kris’ face, but he knew the jock couldn’t deny him in any way whatsoever.

And he was right.

“Fine. Do it. Fuck this shit, man. I swear I’m moving out the first chance I get!”

Melvin motioned for him to approach him, then turned him around, allowing him a fuller glimpse of Kris’ amazing booty. His own cock was ready, once again, and his mouth was salivating.

“Bend over.”

Kris sucked in his lips, and felt the sudden urge to murder Melvin, but it was abated by Aaron’s brainwashing. He did as he was told, causing his ass to pop out even more towards his horny roommate.

Melvin let his hands rove around Kris’ buttocks, feeling that familiar, and totally welcome, rush of power. He found Kris’ ass was just as perfect as the rest of his body, rotund, juicy, and just begging to be fucked.

He slapped the jock’s cheeks, causing him to yell out.

He continued to spank him, taking turns with each buttcheek, loving the fresh bloom of color that appeared on it. He enjoyed the way each buttock jiggled, as well as the very satisfying thwap sound, and his spanking got more and more intense, the more he recalled just how much of an ass Kristopher had been to him in the past.

Kris swore louder and louder, and his ass turned bright red from the frequent smacking. Melvin’s cock was immediately turned on by it all, signaling it was time to take Kris’ ‘punishment’ to the next level.

He pulled the jock strap down, and when Kris tried to protest, he simply handwaved it away, claiming the necessity of payment, while Kris grumbled under his breath.

Melvin pulled the jockstrap down, spotting Kris’ cock hanging between his legs. He would get to that some other time, but for now, he wanted to throw himself to the joy that was Kris’ ass.

He spread the cheeks apart, and was met with a musky, moist crack, a little ripe from the workout, but undeniably sexy. He pushed his face forward and took in even more of the sight and scent, his cock shuddering uncontrollably from it, while Kris winced and sweated from nervousness.

Melvin’s tongue extended, and he moaned gleefully at the rich taste that filled his senses. Kris groaned and shuddered, yet maintained position, as Melvin began to lick up and down his crack, holding onto his cheeks, his fingers digging into the juicy fat. He loved having the jock in such a compromising position; it was not only incredibly hot, but also humiliating to Kris, which he found highly amusing. His tongue lapped up the area, his own body turned on even more by Kris’ shudders and groans.

He let his tongue swirl around the hole, the taste far more rich there, noting how it clenched from nervousness.

“Relax, Kris, you’re not in prison or anything. It’s just me.” Melvin smiled mischievously.

“I might as well be in prison, you fucking asshole! Fuck you, Melvin.”

Melvin laughed and continued to rim Kris voraciously. His lips turned to the buttocks themselves, and he wiped them with his tongue, covering the surface wholly. Kris winced and griped as Melvin’s tongue stung his newly sensitive, reddened buttocks, but Melvin didn’t stop regardless.

When he was finished with licking and worship, it was time to give his fingers a go. He let his fingers trail down Kris’ moist crack softly and gently, causing him to feel even more nervous. His fingers ran across his plump buttocks playfully, their delicate motions making Kris feel more and more threatened.

“You’re not going to put those in, you know...”

“What do you think, dumbass?” Melvin smiled at his own uncharacteristic reply. He hardly ever cursed at anyone like that! But he couldn’t help himself. It was so much fun having Kris at his mercy!

Kris screamed when he felt Melvin’s finger poke at his hole.

“I haven’t even got inside yet,” Melvin said.

Kris whimpered, begging Melvin to not go through with it, even promising to clean up after himself later, which surprised Melvin. He had never known Kris to be such a wuss, but he enjoyed it nonetheless.

He finally jabbed his finger inside. Kris let out a high pitched shriek.

“Now I’m inside you.” Melvin laughed as his finger dug deeper into Kris’ throbbing hole. Kris wanted to escape, to attack, but Aaron’s conditioning made sure he stayed put, to take his punishment right in the ass, quite literally in this case.

Melvin let his single finger burrow into the jock’s hole, further and further, taking as much liberty as he could, and when he had stretched him enough, he forced a second finger inside. Kris howled, while Melvin laughed, his cock throbbing even more, every finger and push inside the jock feeding his cock’s hunger bit by bit.

He fucked and stretched his hole like cotton candy being spun, and even managed to get a third finger inside, right up to the knuckle. He kept it there, enjoying the feel of Kris’ insides, yet another intimate body part he never thought he’d be acquainted with. Kris was teary eyed, and cursing by the second, yet his cock was strangely getting hard from the forced stimulation. Melvin allowed his fingers to push back and forth gently, spreading the jock’s entry point wider, while simultaneously also causing Kris’ cock to tent. The sight of it disappeared from view, and that’s when Melvin knew Kris was hard.

“Wow, you’re hard? Maybe you’re gay too.”

“Shut up!” Kris said, whimpering. He felt tense from the agony of having fingers up his ass, as well as the humiliation at being hard from it.

Melvin was ready. He pulled his fingers out, giving Kris some temporary relief, then stood up and got his own cock out. His cock throbbed heavily in his hand, and he gave himself a few strokes as he readied to put it inside Kris’ newly minted hole.

He let his cockhead swirl around Kris’ hole first, drops of precum wetting it even more.

“You fucking asshole….I can’t believe I’m letting you do this!”

Melvin laughed, while Kris continued to swear at him, but he stopped Kris’ protests by sticking his cockhead inside his hole, causing him to moan instead. Melvin spent several moments enjoying the feel of having made it inside, an accomplishment he took a somewhat twisted sense of pride in.

He sighed dreamily, preparing himself for something he always wanted to do: to fuck Kris in his ass.

He once again recalled the many times he wanted to do so in the past: all those times of agitation, frustration, all the times Kris laughed in his face. And then, with one fell swoop, he thrust as hard as he could inside the jock, violently, mercilessly.

Kris shouted and almost keeled over from the impact, but his cock reacted with joy. They both moaned as Melvin held the position, his cock throbbing against Kris’ warm insides, wanting more and more.

He delivered several smaller thrusts, gasping with pleasure and disbelief, both of their cocks throbbing intensely. He pulled away, leaving only the head in, then rammed Kris once again, all at once, causing both of them to moan even louder.

From there, it was a mix of smaller and medium sized thrusts. Both of them were writhing and moaning breathlessly, sweating profusely, while Melvin pistoned in and out, taking his roommate for a ride. His thrusts got shorter and faster. Melvin grit his teeth, and his balls swelled, as he finally came inside the jock, unable to withhold himself any longer. Kris shouted a short while after, cumming himself.

Melvin pulled out, and was happy to see his cum bubble out of Kris’ hole, a work of art. Sure, the living room was messier with all the cum all over it, but he didn’t care; he’d clean it up himself even! He was just grateful for the experience overall.

Kris, on the other hand, could barely walk, and hobbled away, naked and wet.

“Hope you enjoy your shower,” Melvin said with a cheeky grin.

Kris was far too upset to even say anything back, and wandered off, his lips pursed. He hated the feeling of the jizz sliding down his thighs, and his insides felt like they were burning. On the other hand, it had all felt earth shatteringly good, enough for him to cum twice from it, a fact he didn’t dare share with his roommate.

Melvin cleaned up, then retired to his room for the rest of the day, far too spent to play anymore. He only had one day left with Kris, but for now he needed a break!

The next day, Kris made no mention at all of his ‘punishments’, and the Douchebag Jar even made a couple of actual dollars throughout the day. It seemed Kris was being mindful of his own behavior. Melvin spent the entire day in, and noticed his roommate carefully avoiding some of his usual shenanigans, which amused him.

Kris grabbed a beer, and, while heading back to his room, opened it. It foamed and spilled onto the floor.

“You just spilled beer all over the place, Kris.”

“Fuck.” Kris searched his pockets. He patted them down, becoming more and more upset. “Oh come on, I know I had a dollar in here somewhere!”

“Sorry, but...you know what that means.” Melvin got up from the couch, ready to collect.

“No way, bro. I know I have some money on me. Just give me a second and I’ll get my wallet, and….”

Melvin shook his head. “Sorry, but the rules are the rules. Time to pay up.”

Kris shut his eyes in frustration, then angrily placed his beer on a nearby table. “How do I pay it off this time? Man, fuck this Douchebag Jar crap!”

“We’ll just keep it simple. A blowjob will do.”

“A what?!”

“You heard me.”

Kris stood there angrily, his mind stewing with all sorts of things he’d like to do Melvin, and none of them involved pleasure. However, he had no choice but to cave in to his fussy roommate’s demands.

“I’ve never blown a guy before.”

“First time for everything.” A grin spread across Melvin’s face as Kris fell to his knees, right on top of the small mess he had made on the carpet.

Melvin hastily brought his cock out, then ordered Kris to lick it to hardness. Kris winced, but did as he was told, gingerly moving his head back and forth as he brought Melvin’s cock to life. Melvin loved his reactions. He looked like some kid that was being forced to eat his vegetables, and couldn’t wait to stuff even more down his ungrateful throat.

It didn’t take long for him to get hard. Getting sucked off by a straight boy, especially one as hot as Kris, was incredibly entertaining, and felt overwhelmingly wonderful. When his cock was rock hard, he told Kris to lick his shaft. Kris scoffed, but Melvin didn’t relent, forcing him to do it anyway. He began craning his neck, doing his best to service Melvin’s cock and struggling, amusing Melvin as well as turning him on further.

He stopped Kris’ clumsy dick licking, then let his cockhead rub against Kris’ lips. Kris groaned and his face soured, but he stayed in position despite himself, even as Melvin’s precum made his lips glossy.

“Open up,” Melvin said.

Kris tried with all his might to resist, but he just couldn’t do it. He let out a frustrated cry, then his jaw opened, and then, Melvin was inside his face. Melvin’s eyelids fluttered as he sank inside his messy roommate, his hands running through Kris’ fauxhawk.

He loved the sight of Kris’ displeased expression, his cheeks bulging with his cock. He loved the feel of his tongue on his rod, which slowly pistoned in and out, much gentler than the forceful ass fucking he had delivered the day before.

He enjoyed the slow, steady rhythm, slowly edging deeper and deeper, further and further down Kris’ mouth….and then started to pick up the pace. Kris gagged, even looking up in shock, but Melvin only tightened his hold. Once again, he felt a rush of power and was more than happy to punish Kris for his past behavior, driving his dick further down his mouth until he was fucking his throat. Kris gagging became more pronounced, his eyes watered, and his nose started to run, while Melvin clutched his hair tightly, pulling it from his scalp.

He started skullfucking Kris, forcing his head to move rapidly against his pelvis, his nose hitting his skin. Melvin moaned and gasped, the whites of his eyes showing as he surrendered to the immense pleasure, the joy of finally giving Kris what he truly deserved. He came, filling Kris’ throat with his jizz, causing him to gag and even cry.

He pulled out, and his jizz fell onto the carpet, mixing with the beer stains on the carpet and making an even bigger mess. Kris collected himself, coughing and retching, holding his throat, his face red and his chin dripping with cum.

“Don’t forget to clean that all up,” Melvin said, leaving to the restroom to freshen up after his hearty blowjob.

The day continued without a hitch. Kris even cleaned up after himself, including the mess from their blowjob earlier. Now that Melvin was rested again, he was ready for more. He knew he only had a couple hours left with Kris. While he was more than satisfied with his session so far, he was hoping to at least catch him in the wrong one more time before he took off good.

He got his chance. Kris was getting ready for a shower for a date later that night. Melvin knew that, once he left, he would never see him again (unless he paid for it, of course). Kristopher was on the phone, talking to his latest female conquest, and was getting ready for a shower—but was in nothing but his underwear.

When he came to the living room to grab a snack, Melvin cleared his throat.

Kris looked at him with an annoyed expression, and covered the speaker on his phone. “What?” he said in a hushed voice.

Melvin pointed his gaze towards Kris’ underwear.

“So what?” Kris said in whispers. “I’m not making a mess, am I?”

“Walking around in your underwear is still a violation.”

Kris got louder. “I thought walking in a jockstrap was a violation, when the hell did underwear become a bad thing?”

Melvin wouldn’t hear it. “Sorry, but this is an infraction, and you need to pay up.”

Kris’ face was shocked. “I don’t have any money on me, I’m on the phone! Have a fucking care, would you?”

Melvin smiled to himself. How many times had he made that exact same plea in the past?

But this time was different. He wouldn’t budge.

Kris shook his head angrily. “Sorry,” he said to the girl on the phone, “I’ll have to call you back.”

“No, wait!” Melvin said. “Stay on the line. This will be part of your payment.”

Kris was puzzled. Melvin explained he wanted to give Kris a blowjob this time—while he remained on the phone.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Kris whispered.

“No. Just horny,” Melvin said bluntly. “Plus, I find this amusing. Stay on the line. This won’t take long.”

Kris was speechless as Melvin got to his knees. He encouraged him to keep talking, even as he pulled his waistband down, revealing his big floppy cock.

Finally! He had been so busy with the rest of Kristopher’s beautiful body the last couple days he never had a chance to acquaint himself with his cock, one-on-one. Now it was time.

“Yeah,” Kris said nervously on the phone, “I’m uh...I’m still here, baby.”

Melvin began stroking Kris’ cock as he talked to his latest date. It grew stiff by the second, throbbing with every pull on it, every squeeze heating it up. Kris leaned back on the wall as Melvin stroked him to a fat erection.

“Yeah babe...we can go out to the beach l-later and...ohhh gawd….what? N-nothing it’s...mmmm….w-what are you talking about...I’m fine!”

Kris sucked his lips in, as Melvin began licking his cock, taking his time to indulge in the taste. It was everything he ever dreamed about when it came to Kris’ cock, musky, manly, hard as steel. Kris’ knees wobbled as Melvin serviced him, the veins throbbing rapidly in his shaft.

He hissed. “No, you’re the only one I’m talking to right now, babe, I swear! It’s just….oh gawd….ohhhhh…fuck...”

Melvin took Kris inside his mouth and began sucking him hungrily. He gazed up at the jock as he whimpered helplessly, and could hear the girl on the phone growing more confused...and angry.

He smiled as he sucked on Kris’ cock further, causing him to grow more restless as his head bobbed back and forth, the jock even moaning at times.

“N-no, I’m not...not fucking another girl right now at all! You crazy? You sound like my stupid roommate M-mel...oh fuck...mmmmmm….Melvin...ahh!”

Melvin almost laughed, his cheeks bulging with Kris’ cock. He tasted his precum, and increased his sucking, doing his best to draw more and more out of the captured jock. His sucking became heavier and more rapid, rendering Kris incoherent. Kris’ eyes rolled up and he dropped his phone, as he moaned louder and louder, while Melvin sucked him like a leech. Finally, the jock exploded, his cries spreading across the living room. A smile managed to spread across his face, but was immediately dispelled when he realized his call had ended.

“Aw shit,” he said. He pulled out his cock from Melvin’s mouth, grabbed his phone, then returned to his room, making several attempts to reach his date again.

“You fucking asshole, Melvin!” He yelled, right before he slammed the door.

Melvin wiped his mouth, the taste of cum still fresh inside it. As far as he was concerned, the session was officially over.

Kris finally ended up leaving later in the evening, taking his gym bag of stuff with him, and Melvin watched him drive away through the window. He returned to the living room, and picked up the Douchebag Jar. It seemed he had made five bucks in total over the last three days, which meant Kris had cleaned up after himself exactly that amount of times. It was five times more than he ever did in the past. He took the money out, and put the jar away, and couldn’t wait to use it once again. He was sure it wasn’t the last time he’d run into his douche of a roommate, and he’d have his jar ready for him.

#male hypnosis #hypnosis #gay hypnosis #malefeet #gayfeet #mstgay3000

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mstgay3000stories · 1 year

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Paused

A couple of friends get together to play some video games, but one of them has an upper hand…

For more stories: https://my.bio/mstgay3000

Leon and Mason were two eighteen year olds that were playing video games together on Leon’s couch. Leon’s parents were out for the weekend, so he invited Mason over. They had only hung out a couple times since Mason transferred to Leon’s high school not too long ago. Mason was immediately popular once he arrived at Dale River High. He was tall, with spectacular looks, athletic with a great physique, and all around a friendly person. It seemed everyone wanted to hang out with him, Leon included, and Mason, being the nice guy that he was, and also being the kind of person that wanted to be everyone’s friend, usually made time to do just that.

Mason kept his hair in a nice pompadour, and wore a red sweater shirt, with a white collared shirt beneath it, tapered jeans, and boots. Leon, on the other hand, was dressed casually, with shirt, shorts, and socks.

“Aw you cheating son of a bitch,” Leon said, his fingers rapidly hitting the buttons on his controller. Mason laughed.

“You need to get on my level bruh,” Mason said.

“How do you even know all these tricks? You know what? Forget it. This ends now.”

“Let’s go, bro, I’m ready for ya,” Mason said.

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mstgay3000stories · 1 year

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The Sock Goblin

Two college studs have a hard time believing in an urban legend. But there might be more fact than fiction to the legend after all.

To support me in writing more like this, find me here. New stories every week: https://my.bio/mstgay3000

Chad and Gavin were a couple of college seniors that stayed in an apartment just outside campus. They were both on the swim team and were great looking young men, with lithe, supple bodies, and handsome cute faces. Chad was blonde, and Gavin had dark hair, both cut short. They were best friends, and met when they were freshmen.

Gavin was dressed for a night out. He wore a leather jacket, a nice shirt, jeans, and boots, and had his hair styled. He checked his face in a mirror which he kept hanging on a wall in the living room. It was his usual ritual to check himself out before he took off, which Chad usually teased him about.

Chad, on the other hand, was in a white tee and boxers, dressed for a night in.

“Sure you don’t wanna come out tonight, bro?” Gavin said.

“I’m sure bro. No parties for me tonight. I gotta study. Gotta take school a little seriously every now and then.” Chad said.

Gavin watched as Chad searched under the couch and beneath the cushions and table. He noticed that Chad only had one sock on his foot.

“What are you doing?” Gavin said.

“I’m looking for my other sock, man, have you seen it?”

“Nope.”

Chad swore. “Where the hell did it go? This is my last clean pair.”

“Maybe the sock goblin took it.”

Chad stopped looking under the couch and gave Gavin a deadpan expression. “The fuck is a sock goblin?”

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mstgay3000stories · 1 year

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Frat4Sale: The Perfect Model

Another chapter in the Frat4Sale series, commissioned by Habernath. If you liked this story, please consider supporting me here: https://my.bio/mstgay3000

Kevin, an art student, waited anxiously by his easel. No one else was in class.

He looked at the time and bit his nails. He still couldn’t believe he was going through with this.

There was no class today. In fact, today he had paid for a session through the Frat4Sale website. Ever since taking art class, he had always been fascinated by the male models the professor brought in. They were always so….attractive.

They were usually fit, chiseled men that were forced to stand around for an hour or two. There was something so erotic, so arousing, about having someone stand and pose like a statue, their limbs bending easily according to someone’s will. He fantasized about having that kind of control for himself for one day.

He had also fantasized about having his own model one day, and thanks to Aaron’s website, now he could. He had searched his catalog through a wide array of hot guys, and found a candidate he felt would be an excellent model: Ezio.

According to the description on the site, Ezio was from Italy. He was in the states for school, but also wanted to do some modeling on the side. Kevin almost drooled on his laptop as he sorted through Ezio’s online gallery. He definitely had a future in that line of work.

Ezio had chestnut colored hair that was messy like a bush; the sides of his head were shaved. He had an oval shaped face, blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a lithe, fit body that was virtually hairless. He had a cute little smile, a healthy glow to his skin, and a nice big circumcised cock to complete his dreamy image. Kevin couldn’t wait to meet him.

The class door opened and Kevin stopped breathing for a moment as the handsome, ruddy skinned Italian entered the room. He wore a fitted shirt, jeans, boots, and had a little gold chain around his long neck.

“Hello? You are, ah, Kevin, yes?” He had a slight accent to his words, which Kevin instantly found endearing. He remained speechless as he eyed the sexy guy from head to toe.

“Yes, I-I’m Kevin. You’re here for the modeling gig, right?”

“I am. Excited for the work.”

Ezio smiled and Kevin blushed. He was hotter than he anticipated. It was still hard to believe that this hot stud was somehow under mind control; that he was going to, supposedly, do whatever he wanted.

He decided to test the waters a bit.

“Have a seat on the stool please,” Kevin said. Ezio did as he was told, and soon as he sat down, Kevin said “freeze”.

Ezio froze on the spot, causing Kevin to gasp. He had asked Aaron to have a freeze trigger in place already, and it seemed Aaron kept his end of the bargain. He walked up to Ezio and waved his hand in front of his blue gaze, and was stunned to see that he didn’t blink. He circled him, eyeing his lean, supple form from head to toe, then returned to his place. His dick was already twitching in his jeans.

“Unfreeze.”

Ezio blinked as if nothing had happened.

Kevin was floored. Ezio was clearly under some sort of spell or something! For him to be so perfectly frozen, even more still than the actual still-life models in class….it was incredible.

He was convinced on the spot that Ezio was his for the taking. At least while his time lasted, that is.

“So, what should we do first? Do you have any cameras set up? I do not see any.” Ezio said.

“They’re not needed today. This is just a simple modeling gig, one on one. You just do whatever I ask, and you’ll get paid in the end. I can’t wait to draw you. How about we get that shirt off first?” Kevin said.

Ezio obliged. Kevin’s eyes were glued to him as he undressed. When he was done, he stood up proudly, his hands on his hips. His shirtless, muscled body was so much hotter in person.

“How you like this, ah?” Ezio grinned.

Kevin headed over to the model and put his hand on his bare shoulder. He felt his dick turn into a full-on boner. He circled Ezio’s body again, his eyes scanning every muscle, every curvature. His body surged with lust.

“Freeze,” Kevin said.

Ezio didn’t move, and not much had seemed to change, until Kevin got to the front of Ezio’s body again. Ezio was still grinning, utterly frozen, his eyes no longer blinking again. Whatever mind control effect Aaron had put on him was simply breathtaking, inhuman even!

He waved his hand in front of Ezio’s grinning visage, and there was still no response. Feeling emboldened, he gripped Ezio by his shoulders and rolled his nose against his neck. He moaned quietly to himself, as his lusts were inflamed. Ezio smelled like body spray and fresh, clean skin. There was a light aroma of hair spray coming from his bushy head, and Kevin ran his fingers through it. He groped and squeezed his muscles, and was turned on even more by Ezio’s non-reaction and strange, unblinking gaze. His entire body was causing his dick to catch fire.

Unable to resist, he gripped Ezio’s face and forced him to look into his eyes.

“God you are so fucking hot,” he said to himself.

He stepped back. “Unfreeze,” he said. Ezio returned to life. Kevin was struck by how effortless it was for Ezio to return to normal; he showed no sign of fatigue or even a loss of time.

Kevin cleared his throat. “I do like the look of your body so far, but I wonder about your mouth. Say cheese?”

Ezio flashed a cheesy smile.

“Not bad. Stick out your tongue?”

Ezio did it and even crossed his eyes in a silly gesture. Kevin chuckled.

“How about kissing?”

Ezio hesitated. Somewhere in his mind, something went off. He opened his mouth to question such a strange decision, but relented at the last moment.

“I….I’m a good kisser. So my girlfriends have told me.”

“Girl friends? As in plural? Lucky guy. A guy like you could totally get whoever he wanted, I imagine.”

“I guess so,” Ezio said with a nervous laugh.

“Well, I’ll have to see that for myself.”

Once again, a warning went off in Ezio’s brain, spawned from his own natural instincts. And once again, Aaron’s meddling covered it all up.

“Yes,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “I guess….I guess I should prove myself, no?”

Kevin wanted to burst into laughter. Ezio was so cute, especially with that little accent, and so wonderfully naive. The scenario was going exactly as planned.

“That’s how we do it here in the states, my friend. Pucker up.”

He stepped forward and took Ezio into his arms. Ezio, wanting desperately to please, mirrored Kevin’s motions. Their lips locked, and Kevin entered Ezio’s mouth. Ezio obliged and dueled tongues with him, despite being straight himself.

Kevin moaned happily. Ezio was a fantastic kisser, and he loved the passion he seemed to be displaying. He ran his hands up his fine, naked backside and started running his fingers through that sexy mop of chestnut colored hair. He was so turned on by the makeout session, that he wet himself with precum. His fingers pulled at Ezio’s hair, surprising the model. Ezio felt Kevin’s cock bulging against his body, but his addled brain merely took it as simply part of the modeling process.

“Woo….that was excellent,” Kevin said, wiping his mouth at last.

“Thanks. Does that, er, satisfy your requirements? I hope?”

“Yes, I think so. Now, since this is a life drawing class and all, I am going to need you to take off the rest of your clothes too.”

Ezio nodded. Kevin once again watched as Ezio undressed, his own excitement growing with every article of clothing that was tossed away. Ezio’s body was so perfect; it was hard to resist touching his own cock as he undressed. His torso was impeccable, his thighs were perfect, his legs and feet were mouth watering. Kevin’s cock was going wild inside his pants. Soon, Ezio was fully naked, smiling happily again and ready to model.

“Hmm….it needs a little something. Could probably use a little more shine.”

“Shine? What does this mean?”

“It means I need you to look nice and wet. Unfortunately I don’t have any water on hand.”

“Ah.”

“Well, except for one thing.” Kevin pointed to his mouth. Ezio looked confused.

“You are going to use your tongue?”

“Yes. Got a problem?”

Ezio very much had a problem with that, just like he did with the kissing. Yet, Aaron’s power persisted, and he found himself agreeing.

“No. No problem. This an American thing, I take it?”

“Yeah you could say that. Us Americans are so picky when it comes to our models. We do weird things to make sure they are just right. Now, stand there, while I get to work on you okay?”

Kevin was thrilled. Ezio had actually accepted his ridiculous reasoning!

Ezio stood tall, some part of his mind still feeling reluctant. Kevin went behind him, closed his eyes, and took his first lick against the side of Ezio’s neck.

His dick immediately squirted precum again. He felt his whole body tense up as he continued to lick Ezio all along the back of his neck.

“Almost done?” Ezio said, wincing.

“Nope,” Kevin said shamelessly. Ezio laughed nervously.

Kevin licked Ezio’s back muscles, while his hands held onto his taut sides. His licking continued to the small of his back which sent goosebumps all over Ezio’s skin. His body squirmed slightly as Kevin continued to lick his back area, while Kevin’s dick throbbed happily in his pants.

“Ooh...that’s quite an interesting….sensation,” Ezio said, flinching.

“It is. By the way—-freeze.”

Ezio no longer squirmed; his entire body was as still as a statue. Kevin continued his licking uninterrupted.

He reached Ezio’s perfect, sculpted ass, and squeezed both buttcheeks, enjoying how pliant they were to his groping. He felt a tinge of excitement from having such power; Ezio’s perfect, sexy body was his for the taking, just like those models in his class. He smacked his lips, ready to feast and began licking the surface all around his luscious butt cheeks. He spent several moments licking the entirety of one buttock, then moved onto the next. His fingers dug into Ezio’s skin, and he moaned happily to himself, his cock leaking even more precum. Ezio’s ass made him hungry.

He opened his cheeks up and took several licks against his crack, which amped up the pleasure he was already experiencing. He gave a few more licks to his tight cherry bud, with a promise to be back later.

He continued licking Ezio down the back of his thighs, tonguing over the contours of his muscles, then made it down his sharp, angular calves. Ezio’s body was shining alright, but it was with his saliva. The boy’s was not only easy on the eyes, but on the tongue as well.

He couldn’t wait to get to Ezio’s feet. He had big, sexy size twelve feet (which he had learned from the website), and everything about them were tantalizing, from the ankles, to his toes, to the nice, steep instep.

He fell to all fours and started licking them ravenously. He caught the taste of sweat and hot, sexy male feet, and his dick responded by leaking even more. He raised each foot, one at a time, and took long, arduous licks against Ezio’s soft, perfectly shaped soles. The taste of his feet made him woozy. He spent several moments sucking on his toes, and was so hungry for them that he was practically jamming them in his mouth. Ezio remained perfectly still and silent while he played with him, even when only standing on one foot.

When he was done, he planted Ezio’s sexy feet back onto the ground, and continued his ascent. He licked his shins, then crawled up his thighs with his mouth. He got to his crotch and his eyes bulged as he came face to face with Ezio’s tantalizing pecker.

“Unfreeze,” he said.

Ezio woke up and was startled to find Kevin at his crotch.

“H-how did you get over there?”

“Guess you weren’t paying attention,” Kevin said, his eyes still transfixed on Ezio’s cock. It was just as beautiful as the rest of his body.

Ezio looked around nervously.

“W-what are you doing now?”

“Well, I need to check how good this penis is going to be for my work. You don’t mind, do you? I’ll need to examine it as thoroughly as the rest of your body.” Kevin glanced up innocently.

“I….I ah….” Ezio’s eyes glazed over for a brief second. “No, I don’t mind at all.”

“Thanks! You’re so easy to work with. That kind of attitude will open up doors for you in this business.”

“Good to know. Please, go ahead then.”

Ezio gulped. He had no idea why he was going through with this! But as long as it would lead him to greater opportunities…

Kevin smiled deviously. The poor boy was such a fool!

He patted Ezio’s big penis, then ran his fingers along the shaft. Ezio shuddered, yet maintained a professional demeanor. Kevin felt his longing return as he turned Ezio’s cock at different angles, eyeing its length, feeling its girth with his fingers. He took the cockhead into his mouth, causing Ezio to flinch, and tasted it. His dick was more than pleased with the taste. He had to have more.

He began sucking on Ezio. Ezio’s cheeks turned red as his cock stiffened in Kevin’s mouth. Kevin closed his eyes as his head sank onto the shaft, his own cock shooting more precum in response. The boy’s cock was a dream, and the taste made him so damn horny. He always loved Italian sausage! He tasted the first few beads of salty precum, which made him rabid. He started sucking on Ezio harder, causing him to flinch and whimper, as pleasure was forced through his body.

Kevin moaned happily, utterly satisfied to have such a big, tasty cock between his lips. He felt Ezio’s cock stiffen even more, and a generous blast of cum followed soon after.

Ezio moaned softly as Kevin finished his meal. He wiped his mouth and looked up at Ezio, who seemed distressed by the whole thing.

“Great job! Now hold still while I finish ‘shining’ you all up.”

“I….I suppose so,” Ezio said, the gears in his brain spinning. Kevin was thoroughly entertained by his confused expressions.

He continued licking him and moved up from his pelvis. His tight, cut abs were a relaxing after-meal treat. He felt his hunger for the boy’s body returning. His tongue climbed all the way up to Ezio’s chest, where two tasty morsels awaited him.

Ezio let out a peep as Kevin hungrily attacked his nipples. He licked them to hardness, then started to bite and chew on them, causing Ezio’s face to turn red. He wanted to protest, once again, but Aaron’s programming was too fast and too strong to let him say a word. His nipples were as tasty as his cock, and had Kevin’s cock reeling once again.

“Sorry,” Kevin said. “Gotta make these nipples look authentic. A little wear and tear never hurts, you know?”

“Yes...you are right,” Ezio said, wincing. Kevin gnawed on him a little more, enjoying the pliant muscle, before licking the rest of his chest area.

He turned to his shoulders, licking them thoroughly, and then dragged his tongue down Ezio’s arms, even sucking on his fingers one by one. He just couldn’t get enough of his warm, supple skin.

He climbed all the way back to his head, and gave Ezio’s confused, handsome face several good licks, as if he were a dog. Ezio flinched, yet remained steadfast, as Kevin finished up.

“There. All good now. Nice and ready for the modeling part.” Kevin noticed the relief on Ezio’s face.

Despite the sexual implications, he did plan on having some modeling work done. He instructed Ezio to lie on a nearby stone slab, on his backside. His head was hanging off the end, so that Ezio was looking at him upside down, his arms resting along the edges. His legs were bent. Ezio looked like a tragic Renaissance figure that had just died, and Kevin couldn’t have been turned on any more.

“Is this good?” Ezio said.

“Yes. One more thing—-freeze.”

Ezio froze in place. Kevin sighed happily as he looked at his frozen model. He looked so vulnerable, his mouth slightly open, his eyes glazed over, his body relaxed in such a dramatic pose. He was so still he seemed like a real life painting. Still no sign of blinking. Kevin’s lusts were in full force. He approached and whipped out his aching cock.

He thumbed Ezio’s parted mouth, and his cock throbbed again. He grabbed his own cock and started stroking. He ran his fingers along the boy’s exposed, taut neck, and dove in like a hawk, licking the area once more. He stood over his body and licked his nipples once again, and snuck into his exposed, hairless armpits. He raised his limp arms up, one after the other, as his tongue went hunting side each pit, loving the taste and fresh aroma he discovered there. His cock had had enough; it was time to fuck something.

Fortunately, there was already an open orifice waiting to be violated.

He took his cock and placed it into Ezio’s upside down mouth. He slowly eased in, and closed his eyes in bliss. Finally! It seemed like he had been waiting an eternity. His cock throbbed inside Ezio’s throat as he began to fuck him slowly, his hands perched on Ezio’s strong, glistening chest.

“Ohhhh….” he moaned, his eyes almost crossing as he began bucking his hips into Ezio’s face. He loved that he didn’t even hear a peep from him. The boy was dead silent. His thrusting picked up and his knees wobbled as he fucked him harder and harder. Ezio’s head banged gently against the slab as he got skullfucked by Kevin. Kevin was in ecstasy as he fucked faster and faster. He screamed as he came inside the model’s mouth, and came several times over.

He pulled out, laughing at the way the cum dribbled down Ezio’s frozen face. He tilted his head upwards to let it go down his throat, then let his head hang lifelessly once again.

“Unfreeze,” he said, rubbing his swollen cock. Ezio immediately gagged, then sat up. He coughed and cursed in Italian.

“What is this?” he yelled, wiping his mouth. “How did this...how did this happen?”

Ezio turned and saw Kevin out with his cock and felt mortified, on top of feeling confused. Was he going crazy? What was going on?

Kevin, however, easily assuages his mind. He simply stated that Ezio was just feeling fatigued from being so still, and that it was all perfectly normal. He insisted Ezio had to maintain his stamina no matter how strange things would get, as the real modeling industry was even more grueling. And no, that wasn’t cum down his throat, probably just excess phlegm.

Ezio nodded resignedly. “I suppose….suppose you are right. My agent back home did warn me about the cutthroat way things are done here. Still...this taste in my mouth...never had this happen to me before.”

Kevin smiled. Such a sucker!

He ordered Ezio to get back into the same position. This time, however, Kevin went to the other side, where Ezio’s legs were.

“Now, I’m going to do a bit more testing, so please bear with me. It’s all part of uh, being an artist. I want you to maintain your composure while I manually pose your body. I hope you understand.”

“Yes...I think so.”

Kevin felt his cock begin to stiffen again as he beheld Ezio’s feet. It was time for another round with them, but this time, he was going to be a little more adventurous. He grabbed a foot, and Ezio flinched, then sighed.

Kevin started sucking on his toes, moaning to himself happily.

“Everything….everything okay there?” Ezio said, flinching even more.

“Mhmmm! Just bare with me please! Things are gonna get a little more weird.” Kevin began sucking on Ezio’s toes even more voraciously, his hunger even more consuming. He loved their length, their taste, and how they squirmed inside his mouth. He grabbed both feet and started rimming all ten toes, which made Ezio feel even more uneasy, but not enough to say anything.

Kevin was so horny and ravenous from his toe sucking that he had to convert his lust into fucking. He took his cock, which was a full, hot boner once again, and applied it to Ezio’s feet.

“What the—-?” Ezio raised his head and was mortified to see Kevin fucking his feet. He groaned and let his head hang again, knowing full well that he had to give in to it. America was so strange!

Kevin, on the other hand, was sighing and moaning, as Ezio’s big feet did a number on his cock and body. He felt the climax coming again, and within moments, was actually cumming, all over Ezio’s pretty feet and toes. He used Ezio’s toes to wipe the cum off his cock, and took great pleasure in the way his jizz seeped down his soles.

He wiped his forehead with the back of his head. “There we go. Not bad, Ezio! Just a little more, uh, prep work, then we begin the actual modeling!”

“Yes….I am glad to hear it.” Ezio said with a look of concern.

His blue eyes bulged when he felt his legs being lifted, his ass exposed. He raised his head again.

“What are you doing?!”

“Do me a favor and keep your legs up for me. Can you do that? It’s a test of your lower body strength.”

“Why, yes, but—-”

Kevin shushed him and Ezio clammed up. He felt even more on edge. He felt the cold hit his exposed cherry, which didn’t fill him with confidence.

It got even worse when Kevin took a lick down there. Ezio cursed in Italian once again as Kevin started lapping away at his crack. Kevin felt almost obsessed with the sweaty, musky taste. It was the perfect follow up to having blown a load on Ezio’s feet.

Kevin turned his head at different angles as he explored Ezio’s crack, reveling in the taste. He gripped his thighs, then went in with his tongue, causing Ezio’s body to tremble. He whimpered helplessly, yet tried to remain calm. His career was on the line, and he had to stay calm. He had never had his ass opened up like that before, and it made him feel uncomfortable.

But not as uncomfortable as when Kevin started fingering him. Ezio cursed again, and his eyes watered, as he felt Kevin penetrate his tightness, opening him up for something probably more sinister to come later. Kevin loved Ezio’s natural reactions almost as much as he loved how tight his insides felt against his finger. His cock was already hard again and he couldn’t wait to get inside him.

When he was satisfied, he calmed Ezio’s fears with another plea of modeling platitudes, which, like clockwork, seemed to ease Ezio’s fears. He could of course always freeze him too, but he enjoyed the boy’s physical and emotional squirming.

He grabbed his wet cock then brought it to Ezio’s hole. Ezio gulped and covered his face. He yelped as he felt Kevin move inside, while Kevin moaned softly to himself. It seemed fucking his tight cherry was even more maddening than fucking his pretty mouth or his pretty feet! He kept his eyes on Ezio’s distressed face, scanning him from his neck to his cock, while he began thrusting inside. His cheeks were flushed with color and he felt woozy with pleasure. He grabbed Ezio’s cock, which had become semi-hard from his fucking, and began to stroke him as he fucked his hole.

The fucking provided a pleasure that was overwhelming for Kevin. He made things even better by sneaking kisses on Ezio’s toes, or licking the cum off his soles in turn. He squeezed the model’s cock forcefully, causing Ezio to yell out even more, as he fucked his tight hole relentlessly. Everything came together in a tremendous orgasm for Kevin, which Ezio followed shortly after.

“Oh my god!” Ezio cried, his teeth clenched as he squirted all over himself. Kevin moaned as he felt himself cum several times, once again, inside the hot stud.

He pulled out and was happy to see his jizz fall out of Ezio’s ass.

“Freeze,” he said.

Ezio was frozen in place, his hands still covering his face, legs still in the air. Kevin went to his head and removed his hands easily and was pleased to see Ezio was actually crying.

“Aww, how sweet,” he said. He licked the tears right off Ezio’s reddened face and laughed to himself.

He kept Ezio frozen as he played with the rest of his body. He licked him some more, even cleaning his spunk off at times, and would content himself with posing Ezio in compromising positions. He would raise his legs, or his arms, to lick and suck him further. He even flipped him over like a steak in a pan, in order to lick his powerful backside again. Ezio was like clay in his hands, and he used his body to his advantage, fucking his mouth again, fucking his feet again, and even fucking his hole again with Ezio posed on all fours.

He was planning on doing more, when Ezio startled him and began moving.

“Hey! I didn’t say you could move.”

But Ezio ignored him. He started getting dressed again, a stoic expression on his face. Kevin looked at the time and realized his time was up. He was so absorbed in his playtime that he hadn’t kept track. He watched quietly, and with a little bit of longing, as Ezio packed up and left without a word. Everything had been amazing. Frat4Sale was amazing. And after that session, he was more than certain Ezio had a future in modeling—-as well as a future in his own hands once again, as soon he got the money!

#gayfreeze #male freeze #freeze #gay erotica #m/m #humiliation #male feet

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mstgay3000stories · 1 year

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Jimmy Is My Friend

For more: https://my.bio/mstgay3000

I’ve known Jimmy since we were both in high school. He was my best friend. We’re in our early twenties now, and struggling to make it in the city, both of us having moved from our rural neighborhood as soon as we graduated senior year.

And thank god for that. Life in the big city was far more promising, far more accepting, and far more exciting than the lame barnyard dances or Walmart hangouts we were used to.

We even got our own places now. Jimmy lived on the other side of town with his girlfriend, while I got my own crappy one bedroom apartment. Sure it was right in the middle of one of the most crime ridden places in town, but hey, nothing beats being on your own. I worked a full time desk job, while Jimmy worked two jobs, one of them being a waiter at a nearby restaurant.

Since he didn’t have a car yet, he caught the metro from one end of the city to the other, and usually crashed for a couple hours at my place before he started his second shift. That guy was a workhorse, lemme tell you. He was beyond grateful that I lived around here. I even let him sleep in my room, on the bed, to make sure he got the rest he needed.

I wished I could share the bed with him, but that would be too much, even for him.

Keep reading

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mstgay3000stories · 1 year

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Links and Stuff

Where to find me:

https://my.bio/mstgay3000

#gay #mm #erotica

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mstgay3000stories · 1 year

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The Stopwatch

One shot story from Patreon: https://my.bio/mstgay3000

Roddy sat in his seat quietly, waiting patiently as the lecture hall filled out. He sat alone at the back, as always, while people settled into their seats, content to simply observe people as they came. A couple guys usually caught his unassuming gaze, such as Alex, the loud mouthed baseball jock, always in a backwards facing cap and just one row below his, and Eric, a cute, bespectacled blonde overachiever that always sat in the first row. Both of their personalities annoyed him, but they were cute to look at nonetheless.

Roddy’s favorite person to observe, however, was his teacher, Mr. Barnes.

Mr. Barnes was charismatic and young, somewhere in his thirties, and Roddy had the biggest crush on him. He was tall, with sandy colored hair that had little flashes of gray at the sides, and a classically handsome, clean cut face. More importantly, he possessed a toned, muscular body, with a sensual outline that was never completely hidden by the conservative outfits he usually wore. He finally made it to class, briefcase in hand, tie slightly out of place, and Roddy’s eyes lit up. The class finally settled down in their seats and quieted. Alex made a grunt of dissatisfaction and his girlfriend rolled her eyes, while Eric sat up straight in his seat, down below, ready to learn and, if he could, impress.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m a little late. Had to drop the wife off at work, you guys know how it is.” He fumbled with his briefcase to get his notes for the day out.

“Yeah, he’s totally not getting any,” Alex whispered to his girlfriend with a grin.

“He’s probably, like, the bitch in the relationship,” his girlfriend whispered back.

“Who’s the bitch in our relationship?”

“Not me, bitch.” Cathy said.

“Shuddup, bitch.” Alex said.

“No, you.”

They snickered and playfully poked each other, while Roddy gave them a side eye. It wasn’t unusual for Alex to make fun of Mr. Barnes during class or be rude for that matter.

Mr. Barnes readied his digital projector and faced the class. “So! Tolstoy. Let’s talk. How far did you guys get with the latest assignment, The Kreutzer Sonata?”

The class groaned and mumbled and Mr. Barnes cheesily grinned, hands on hips and fully aware of his class’s lack of interest in the subject matter.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I was in the same spot you guys were not too long ago, believe me. But come on, this story is pretty messed up, isn’t it? Nobody thought so? Anybody?”

“I thought it was messed up the way he killed his wife,” Eric, the blonde cutie said.

“I know right? What a jerk. At least somebody read it. Anyone else besides Aaron?”

“Uh, it’s Eric, sir.”

Several laughed, including Alex and his girlfriend, who were the loudest.

“Apologies, Eric.”

“That’s okay, sir.” Eric looked a little flustered.

“Fucking cringe,” Alex whispered, while Cathy giggled.

Mr. Barnes got some more opinions, then took some questions. He answered each one with the same lively, enthusiastic charm, like a man teaching the topic for the first time and wholly enjoying it. His adorable excitement for teaching was infectious for about half the students, while the other half were already on their way to dreamland.

Roddy loved the way his teacher smiled, the way he gesticulated with his hands, how open and warm he was with the class, despite most of them not caring about what he was talking about. He wanted to be wrapped in his teacher’s arms, to feel that toned, muscular body against his own, and even do some kinkier things, such as worship his feet and yeah, suck his dick. He often wondered what either body part looked like, and the thought always gave him tingles. Such fun fantasies.

Today, however, was special, as some of Roddy’s fantasies were about to become reality. Despite his unassuming appearance, Roddy was no ordinary person. He came from a lineage of witches, and had turned twenty one recently. When a witch came of age, they got to choose a family heirloom as their birthday gift, and the one Roddy chose was his grandfather’s stopwatch.

He took it from his bag then opened it, glancing at it with anticipation. The artifact looked simple enough, like some antiquated old watch from pre World War I era. However, if Roddy stopped it, then time itself would stop as well. Unfortunately, there was a downside—the item only had one use left in it and would only work for a specified amount of time, until it had to be rewound—or else. It was dangerous, yes, but Roddy didn’t care. He could’ve had any other item from his family’s treasury that could’ve lasted his entire life. But to freeze time? How cool was that?

He also couldn’t deny that he was also really horny, and a virgin, and much too shy to do anything with another guy. Freezing time, however, would allow him to enact his fantasies without all the usual anxiety and stuff that came from approaching cute guys. And the best part was that he could choose to play with anyone he wanted. There was a reason he brought the watch to his favorite class….

“Yo, Alex,” Mr. B. called out. Alex and Cathy immediately stopped talking. “I see you and Cathy are really deep in discussion about our friend, Tolstoy, am I right? Care to let us in on the conversation?”

“Oh. Uh…. yeah,” Alex said. Cathy looked embarrassed while others laughed quietly. Roddy grinned. He loved when Alex and Cathy were put on the spot like that.

“Tell me, what are your thoughts on the idea of forgiveness in this story? Does our boy Pozzy deserve forgiveness?”

“Who’s Pozzy?” Alex said.

Mr. Barnes shook his head. “Dude….”

The class chuckled again.

Mr. Barnes jumped on his desk, sitting at the edge, his feet a few inches off the floor. He pointed at Eric, who had his hand raised, eager to voice his own opinion on what Pozdnyshev deserved.

“Okay, it’s time. Here goes,” Roddy said to himself.

He stopped his watch.

The entire room became devoid of sound, and Roddy felt his heart skip. He felt like he had been sucked into a void. He got up from his seat, startled by the sound of his papers moving, which sounded extremely loud compared to the eerie silence. It was surreal. He felt like there was a spotlight on him since nobody else moved an inch or made a peep; the entire room was deathly quiet. Most had their gazes focused on their teacher, amused by the discussion taking place. A pencil fell from Roddy’s lap, startling him, and loudly bounced down the stairs in the aisle. It might as well have been a seventy pound boulder given how quiet the room was. Who knew a rolling pencil could seem so loud?

The pencil finished its journey at Mr. Barnes’ desk, and Roddy’s gaze fell upon his teacher. He sighed dreamily. His member throbbed as he saw his older crush in that perfect pose, completely frozen, flashing his charming smile, finger pointed at Eric, his feet kicking off in the air as if he were sitting poolside—he was just so hot.

“Okay, okay, clock’s ticking. Um, where do I start?” Roddy said aloud.

His eyes fell on the couple below him. The obnoxious young jock in front of him would be a great place to start his exploration of frozen time. Mr. Barnes was supposed to be the main attraction of his time expedition, but Alex was a more than welcome side stop. He’d start from there, and see how it went. A mischievous grin spread across his face.

He felt heat flowing through his body as he moved to the row below. As usual, one of Alex’s large hands was resting on one of Cathy’s legs under the desk, his bored face directed towards Mr. Barnes. Roddy rolled Cathy out from the desk (her seat, like the rest of the chairs in the hall, had wheels on them). He placed Cathy in the aisle, leaving Alex’s hand suspended in midair beneath the desk. Roddy grabbed another empty chair, then scooted in, taking Cathy’s place, and sucked in air when he felt Alex’s suspended hand slide onto his own thigh.

“Oh god,” he said, closing his eyes as he felt the jock’s firm touch against his bulge. His cock throbbed as heavily as his heart thumped. He slid around on his chair, enjoying the feel of rubbing against Alex’s outstretched palm. This was all very new to him, having never been touched by a guy before, but having a straight boy baseball jock feel him up was definitely a good start. He glanced at the motionless jock, his eyes still stuck gazing at the front of the class, seemingly not minding at all that he was touching the classmate who sat behind him in such an intimate way. Roddy felt his stiff bulge leaking precum already, and remembered he had a little phial in his pocket.

He quickly drank from it before he came all over himself. He had brewed the potion himself from a stolen recipe from his uncle’s cupboard, an alchemical concoction of elderberries and dragonwort made specifically to increase his libido and sexual stamina. If he were lucky, he might even experience multiple orgasms. He wanted to enjoy his first trip into the “time frozen land” as much as possible (that’s what it was called in all the spellbooks, anyways).

He couldn’t believe how still everyone was. He reached out and touched Alex’s neck. It was warm, and he felt a pulse. He brushed the back of his hand against Alex’s handsome, angular face, then his thick, strong neck, his continually pulsing rod shuddering happily. He continued his exploration by squeezing the jock’s shoulder, taking his time as he moved down Alex’s muscular arm, groping all that firm beef, those sexy biceps and triceps, until he finally reached the large hand at his lap. He grabbed Alex’s hand and admired the size of it, the square shaped fingers, the lightly calloused palm, the faint fur on the back of it.

Roddy brought Alex’s hand to his face and rubbed his cheeks against it. It felt so warm, so alive, despite how lifeless Alex himself was. He felt like Alex could’ve grabbed his entire skull with his giant hand, and he probably would have if he knew what Roddy was doing to his frozen body.

There was something else that big hand could have grabbed as well.

Roddy pulled out his unit, then brought the jock’s hand right to his own exposed crotch.

“Oh god,” he said, wincing. He started leaking precum, right onto Alex’s hand, and caught himself apologizing for it, as if Alex could hear him. But there was no need to apologize, as Alex never stirred.

Overwhelmed with desire, Roddy spit on Alex’s hand, then wrapped the jock’s fingers around his shaft. He immediately began fucking Alex’s hand, forcing the jock to give him a handjob. He clenched his fingers against Alex’s hand even tighter, making the jock’s grip on himself feel even more wonderful, the speed and pleasure increasing with every thrust.

He moaned, and felt like his spine was turning into jelly as Alex the frozen jock jerked him harder and harder, no awareness or conscious thought required. Roddy’s gaze fell upon Alex’s unaware, unblinking expression, staring back at him lifelessly while he used his hand like a sex toy. It was enough to put Roddy over the edge.

“Ahhhggh!”

He squirted a giant load, moreso than usual thanks to the potion he had imbibed, and felt a rush of fire and electricity shoot through his body. When he was done, he glanced down and took note of all the white hot jizz covering himself and Alex’s hand. He was in disbelief that he had just been jerked off by Alex in class, of all places.

“This is nuts,” he said, laughing to himself.

He collected some cum from his crotch, then, in a daring move, smeared it around Alex’s lips, then placed some inside the jock’s mouth. The potion seemed to be working even better than he thought, because his cock, which had become swollen and tender, immediately started to get hard again, as if he had never cum in the first place. Roddy was beyond pleased and gave his dick a few good strokes to jumpstart it, and it was ready to go all over again.

Feeling emboldened, he snatched Alex’s baseball cap and wore it himself. As far as he was concerned, Alex looked even better without it. Roddy always wondered why he kept it on; even cursing at Cathy one time when she tried to playfully take it off. Alex’s dark-haired bedhead and fade made him seem even more cute.

Roddy gathered more of his cum, and smeared it into Alex’s hair like it were gel, then finished by grabbing Alex’s hand, and sticking Alex’s cumstained fingers into his own mouth. He looked like a kid eating messily from a bowl of coconut frosting, only it wasn’t frosting on his fingers, but Roddy.

“Much better,” Roddy said, proud of his work.

Roddy wasn’t done with the jock. As a man that enjoyed feet, he needed to have some of that too. Why not? He felt like he had all the time in the world, though he knew that wasn’t exactly true. His newfound freedom to do whatever he wanted made him far more outgoing than he was used to.

He got to his knees and crawled towards Alex’s sneakers, under the desk. He could already smell them; a rich, sweaty, rubbery scent emanated them, and they were dirty, no doubt from some serious athletic activity. He untied the laces, and removed the shoes, and his nose was hit by the powerful smell, which made his cock drip with precum once again. He brought one shoe to his nose and sniffed, and gave himself a good stroke.

Alex had ankle socks on, and his feet were already surprisingly moist. He peeled one sock off, and was delighted by the sight of his bare foot.

“Wow. Those are some big feet,” he said.

He looked inside his sneaker and made the happy discovery that Alex was size 14. He brought his nose right to his foot and the smell almost made him pass out in ecstasy. Real, athletic, jock feet! It smelled so much better than he could have imagined.

His tongue came out in order to sate its curiosity, and was not disappointed. The poignant, sweaty taste of his foot sent waves of happiness through his entire body, and his cock leaked even more, calling for more attention. He soaked his own precum with Alex’s sock, and continued his worship, eventually pulling the other sock off and worshiping that foot too, then, afterwards, placed them one on top of the other, before continuing. It was the first time he had ever tasted male feet before and the taste was electrifying; he wished he could have used magic to do it sooner, as there were several jocks back in high school that he would’ve loved to have worshiped like this.

When he was done feasting, he crawled back out, and laughed at how Alex was still sucking on his cummy fingers, having no awareness of what happened at his feet either, or even that his socks and shoes were off. Roddy pulled Alex’s sneakers and shoes from under the desk and placed them on top. He still thought it was funny that he was wearing Alex’s cap.

“You’ve made such a mess of yourself, big boy. Better clean you up.”

He used the sweaty ankle socks to wipe the cum from Alex’s face. He brought Alex’s hand out of his mouth and left it open, giving him a dazed, stupefied expression, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened to him.

“Good, but I think we can make you look even better.”

Something was missing from his latest “sculpture”. He grabbed the jock’s legs from under the desk and hoisted them up onto the desk, so that his big bare feet were exposed to the whole class. Next, he took one sneaker and placed it in Alex’s hand, then brought it up to his mouth, like a gas mask. His dick pulsated as he imagined the fumes of the jock’s shoe running through Alex’s nose.

“There we go.”

Next, he unzipped Alex’s fly, taking out his cock, which was very large. He sucked on it a few times, causing it to get hard, but before the jock could blow his load (and Alex very much wanted him to), Roddy hopped off. Instead, he placed the other shoe in the other limp hand, and stuck that right on top of Alex’s exposed seven incher, so that he was now fucking his own sneaker. He essentially turned Alex into some sort of foot fetishist exhibition, right there in the classroom, and nobody batted an eye, not even Alex.

Seeing the arrogant jock turned into a strange model for his own fetishes made him almost cum himself. He took out his phone and made sure to take pictures, especially closeups of Alex’s face and feet, and even some selfies. He moved to the front side of the desk by stepping into the row below Alex, and gave himself one last worshiping session with the jock’s sexy soles while he jerked his cock. He came a second time, with the baseball jock’s feet stuffed in his face.

He collected the new batch of cum from his lower half and made sure to smear them on Alex’s meaty soles for good measure, then took another picture (and selfie) of that. The last thing he did was return to Alex’s row and finish him off, fucking him with his own shoe until he felt him jizz inside it.

“What a good boy you are, Alex. Not so loud anymore now, are you?”

Alex remained perfectly frozen despite everything done to him. There was cum on his feet, his sneaker oozed the stuff onto his crotch, and his nose was breathing in the musky odor from his other shoe.

Content with his “creation”, Roddy moved down the aisle again. He made it to the first row where Eric sat at the corner, his hand raised, his blue eyes eager for the attention of Mr. Barnes.

_His_ Mr. Barnes.

Roddy shook his head. Even when he was frozen, there was something about Eric that truly annoyed him, even if he was cute.

He removed Eric’s glasses, and was pleasantly surprised to find Eric looked even more cute. If he was cute before, with his boyish face, glasses, and pouty lips, he became an international catalog model without the glasses, as cliche as it seemed. He could have easily been one if he hadn’t been such a hopeless dork, especially with an angelic face like that.

“What are we gonna do with you, huh Eric? You want attention? I can give you attention, and maybe even more. ” He winked and rubbed Eric’s chin, immediately feeling stupid.

“Okay, that was bad. Sorry Eric.”

Roddy swatted Eric’s laptop and belongings off his desk, sending them to the floor without any care. He climbed the desk and got to his knees so that his groin was leveled with Eric’s face, already hard and ready for another round. He took Eric’s outstretched hand and brought it right to his cock, wielding it as if it were a fleshy, trembling weapon that was going to go off at any moment. Like Alex, he spit then wrapped Eric’s fingers around his shaft and began to jerk himself off with his hand.

He moaned and hissed, then rocked his pelvis gently, his cock aimed right between Eric’s eyes.

“Ooh yeah….this is going to be good,” Roddy said, biting his lip.

He picked up the pace, his cock throbbing and wet, and moaned louder as he anticipated blowing his hungry load all over Eric’s pretty face. Eric’s palm was definitely smaller than Alex’s, but was also noticeably softer, and felt incredible while he jerked him off. Roddy felt his body get giddy once again, his pleasure centers igniting as orgasm came rushing in.

He arched his back and sprayed another generous helping of jizz all over the helpless, handsome nerd’s face, panting and moaning as he squeezed every last drop he could.

When he was done, he wiped his hands on Eric’s polo shirt. “Thanks for the help,” he said with a laugh. Eric showed no sign of life, even as the cum dripped down his face like white colored egg yolk. He never blinked or flinched, his eyes and nose and mouth drenched in jizz, his angelic face spoiled.

And, like Alex, Roddy also made sure to get several pictures on his phone, from several angles. The last thing he did was place Alex’s cap on Eric’s head, like a cherry on top of a sundae.

“Looks better on you anyways.”

He took a smiling selfie with the frozen boy and his stolen cap.

Roddy hopped off the desk and turned to the front of the room, setting his sights on Mr. Barnes. He exhaled nervously.

Despite having cum massively three times already, his body was still feeling fresh and renewed, especially now that he had his heart’s desire in sight. Mr. Barnes was still pointing in his direction, since he was pointing at Eric when time stopped, but for Roddy, it felt like he was pointing at him specifically, as if he wanted him to come down.

“Here I come, Mr. Barnes,” Roddy said quietly.

He held his loosened shorts up, reeking of sex, his dick locked and loaded again, and gulped. He had nothing to fear, and yet, he felt incredibly anxious, as if he were asking Mr. Barnes on a first date. His teacher’s charming smile made him feel giddy and lightheaded, and he seemed so reassuring, even when he was frozen.

Roddy had never even had the courage to approach his teacher face to face yet, and was startled to find him even more handsome up close.

“Wow, Mr. B… I knew you were hot, but not this hot.”

He got close enough and stopped right when his chest touched Mr. Barnes’ finger. He looked down at it, his first contact with his biggest crush. His heart was beating so hard he felt it could’ve been heard by the entire class. He grabbed Mr. Barnes' index finger, and brought it to his face, his eyes gazing longingly at his teacher’s motionless expression. He tenderly brought the finger to his mouth and sucked on it, closing his eyes, reveling in the taste of it on his tongue.

He kissed the teacher’s hand, rubbing the back of it against his face like it was some priceless artifact, then continued up his arm. He could feel his teacher’s toned muscles through his long sleeved shirt, and stroked the entire arm with his hands; he was surprised how firm and brawny they were.

“That’s my Mr. B. You take such great care of yourself.” He kissed Mr. Barnes’ hand. “What an inspiration you are.”

Mr. Barnes' petrified face still kept smiling as Roddy continued his exploration, his fingers moving up to his teacher’s collar. He undid the tie and ripped it from the neck, becoming more heated. He tore his teacher’s buttoned shirt open, revealing a sculpted torso.

“Ooh, yeah.”

Starting at Mr. B’s rock hard abs, Roddy’s hands ran up his teacher’s beautiful body, becoming more heated with desire in the process. He kept rubbing and stroking Mr. Barnes’ perfect body, staring into his frozen and smiling face, his loins sparking again. Unable to stop himself, he craned his neck down and ravished the exposed area, suckling at his nipples, and kissing every inch of skin he could see. He licked his teacher’s abs, then, starting at the treasure trail below, kissed and licked his way upwards to his teacher’s neck, sometimes even nibbling and biting.

When he came face-to-face with Mr. B again, Roddy grabbed him by the back of his head, and plunged his tongue down his teacher’s grinning mouth. Mr. Barnes tasted far better than any of his fantasies could ever have conjured up. Roddy pulled his teacher’s limp and muscular body closer, his cock rubbing against the motionless body, spilling his own juices onto it. He pulled away and glanced at his teacher’s face, his smile diminished by the force of Roddy’s kissing, his eyes still gleaming brightly.

And then…Roddy was hit with sadness. While he enjoyed every intimate moment, and while it felt amazing to finally be in Mr. Barnes’ arms, there was a very noticeable damper.

Mr. Barnes wasn’t hugging him back. Roddy stroked his teacher’s face, and felt a sharp longing in his chest.

Still, he couldn’t waste the opportunity—he didn’t have time to. His teacher might not ever return his affections, but at least he could have fun with his body anyways.

Roddy placed his teacher’s arms onto his shoulders and lowered himself until he was at his crotch area. He unzipped Mr. Barnes, and was pleased to discover an enormous endowment just waiting to be played with. It seemed Alex and Cathy’s doubts about Mr. Barnes’ manliness were misplaced; in fact, Alex wasn’t even competition for him.

Roddy rubbed his face around Barnes’ crotch like an animal digging for food, enjoying the smell and feel of his pubes, and the huge fleshy eight-incher rubbing on his face. He held the huge cock up towards the ceiling and began licking its undersides until he felt it get hard. He moaned from how delicious it tasted, and when Barnes’ meat was fully hard, he took it into his mouth.

Roddy glanced up at Mr. Barnes, the teacher’s keen eyes shining towards the class he loved so much, his hands resting idly on Roddy’s shoulders as Roddy sucked on his piece like his life depended on it. The huge dick throbbed violently in Roddy’s mouth as Roddy’s head moved and swayed, his lips and cheeks full; Mr. B was ready to give, a truly generous man, even if he had no awareness of it.

And then, it happened.

Roddy tensed as his throat filled with the jizz of his dream man. He had to give himself a chance to breathe, as it was the first time he had sucked a cock before (Alex didn’t really count), but that didn’t stop the milk from coming—and it was delicious. He downed every drop he could, hungry for it, Barnes’ cock like solid rock as it spent its load.

His own cock was calling for his attention. He couldn’t bring himself to defile Mr. Barnes’ sweet face with jizz, but his feet, on the other hand…

He fell to his knees, where Mr. Barnes’ feet were still suspended a few inches off the ground. He untied the laces of his dress shoes (which were poorly tied, which Roddy found adorable), and revealed two large feet in black dress socks. There was a faint sweaty scent, thought not as strong as baseball jock Alex.

Roddy let his fingers slide repeatedly against the silky texture of Mr. Barnes’ wonderfully shaped socked feet, his own dick throbbing madly as if the gesture itself were jerking it off. His eyes kept looking up at Mr. B, as if he were expecting him to wake up at any moment, but he was as lifeless as the rest of the class despite his plastered grin, his cock now limp, his shirt wide open.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Roddy said, as his fingers started tugging away at the socks.

He started peeling them off and was floored by how perfect his teacher’s feet were. He had to get a picture for posterity’s sake, of course. Mr. B. had perfect toes, and perfect arches, and his soles were buttery smooth. His nails were perfectly cut as well, almost as if the pair of feet belonged to a male foot model.

Roddy’s lips quivered, and he couldn’t stop himself from lowering his head to taste those perfect feet…

He worshiped them passionately, moaning and stroking his own cock as he did so, savoring every inch of his beloved teacher. He sucked the toes, ravished the heels, licked the soles—he spared nothing. He was so hot and bothered by Barnes’ perfect feet that the only thing left to do with them was to cum on them.

He gave one final kiss to them, then stood up and grabbed them at the ankles. He raised his teacher’s feet so they were at waist level, then began to fuck himself with them. He moaned in desperation as his pelvis rocked back and forth, his cock held tightly by his crush’s big feet, while Mr. Barnes smiled at him, almost like he was enjoying the ride he was being taken on. If his feet felt amazing on his tongue, the feeling was magnified by a hundred on his dick.

Roddy yelled out when he came, the biggest load yet. He grit his teeth as he felt pure desire rush out, coating Mr. Barnes and his feet in thick white cream. He panted as he came down from his high, sweating profusely, and yet, Mr. Barnes kept the same charming smile on his face, none the wiser. Roddy grabbed his phone and took one last shot of Mr. B and his feet, gripping his cock and covered in cream, and also snapped a shot of his teacher’s captivated smile. He also took a selfie with his frozen teacher, feeling a little embarrassed by it.

Finally, he hugged and kissed him.

“I love you, Mr. B.” he said. There was no reply, and no return hug. Despite the explosive event he had just been through, there was a hollow feeling at the end of it all because he knew that he would have to turn time back and that their relationship could never actually be more than teacher and student.

He took one final look at his crush. He loved how Mr. Barnes’ cummy feet hung from the desk so casually, dripping with milk, like it was no big deal he had just fucked them. He loved how Barnes’ own giant cock hung limply between his thighs, wet and creamy from use. He loved how disheveled his face and torso looked, as if he had just had sex and got caught by his wife.

Roddy turned and faced his class. It seemed like the class were smiling or smirking at him, as if they were amused by his antics, or maybe a job well done. And, in the midst of all that, he could single out the obnoxious Alex, still sniffing and jerking off to his sneakers, the cum having dried on his bare soles. And there was that annoying Eric, wearing Alex’s favorite cap, his face glazed with jizz, which was also now drying.

Roddy sighed and looked at his watch. He had seconds left.

“Well, this was great. Thanks everyone.”

Roddy started to unwind the watch.

But something went wrong.

Instead of rewinding time, he inadvertently resumed it. One of his uncles always warned him that magic could backfire, he never stopped blathering about it at family gatherings or whatnot; Roddy could still hear the old man's voice in his head.

Well, today, his uncle, as annoying as he was, was right.

Roddy gasped when he noticed, and heard, everyone in the class return to life. And then, just as quickly, a horrible, shocked silence filled the air.

“Oh, what the fuck!” Alex said, tossing his shoe from his face. He looked down at himself and yelled out, then fell out of his chair, not realizing his feet were on his desk.

There were screams. Fingers pointed. Mr. Barnes looked down at himself and joined in the screaming, completely aghast at his state. His charming face was gone, replaced instead by panic, desperation, confusion.

He jumped off his desk and immediately slipped from the cum on his feet, crying out in pain when he hit the ground, while more people started yelling, taking photos, and running out.

“What is going on, oh my god!” Cathy said, breaking out into tears. Alex hastily zipped himself up, then crawled on all fours and tried to find his shoes under the desk. He gagged from the taste of cum in his throat, catching him off guard, and making him vomit.

Down below, Eric felt the cum on his face. He wasn’t sure what it was, and was too shocked to do anything. The smell, the taste, it made him want to retch. But he was too overcome with shock to even make a sound. Usually talkative, he found no words came to him.

Worse, he couldn’t take his eyes off his poor teacher, who struggled to get off the ground. He had never seen Mr. B look so scared, so flustered, especially with all the noise and madness all around them. He was usually the calm one, but not today. Mr. B. quivered with shame, his face red, his eyes teary. The poor teacher had no idea why his cock was out, why he was half-dressed, covered in jizz….he didn’t understand any of it.

“Help me, don’t just stare at me!” Alex screamed, holding his stomach as he felt another gag coming on. Cathy was too stunned to do anything while Alex’s face burned with shame too, several students flashing pics of him, embarrassing him further.

And amidst all the chaos, Roddy stood there silently. He was in shock. All of this horror, and all because of him. Even his favorite teacher was hurt, and it made him even more upset. He knew magic could be volatile and perhaps this was a lesson he needed to learn.

But not like this.

“No,” he said, shaking his head and gaining resolve. “I’ll fix this, Mr. B., I swear it!”

Mr. Barnes struggled to sit up, his hand reaching for the desk. He made eye contact with Roddy, who gave him a sympathetic look.

Roddy focused his will, using whatever inner power he had. He felt himself glow with magic, for the first time in his life, energy coursing through his veins, powered by his own secret crush for his teacher. He wanted to have fun, sure, but not if it caused this much misery.

He felt the energy coalesce and gather within him. He looked down at his palm with glowing eyes, holding the broken watch, and then, to his amazement, the watch fixed itself.

Pure magic.

Everything stopped again. Everything went silent. Everything was frozen.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Roddy said.

He began winding back the stopwatch and was startled when he saw a ghost version of himself appear. Time began to rewind itself, returning right to the moment he had unleashed such a frenzy into the room.

He watched in awe as everything happened in reverse, but with a holographic ‘double’ version of himself standing in his place. Everything played over again, but in rewind, while he watched like a distant observer.

He noticed the cum returned to his double’s dick, then watched him worship his teacher’s feet, then put Mr. B’s socks and shoes back on. He redressed Mr. B, unsucked his finger, then walked backwards to Eric, taking the cap off and putting it on his own head. The cum disappeared from Eric’s face as he watched the blowjob scene reverse itself, with Eric’s belongings returning to his desk, returning to his original position. Lastly, Alex was cleaned up, his socks and shoes and Roddy’s cum going to their rightful places until he was resting with his hand on Cathy’s thigh again.

Finally, Roddy watched his double return to his seat right at the first moment time had ceased, and in that instant, a flash of light hit him… and he found himself back in his seat as if he had never left it.

“Shit!” he yelled out.

There was a stunned silence as everyone turned to him—including Mr. Barnes.

“Whoa there, you okay in the nosebleed seats? Forget to turn the oven off?” Mr. Barnes said. Eric glanced back with an annoyed expression, as he was so close to getting the teacher’s attention again, and Alex glanced at him derisively as if Roddy were some untouchable weirdo, his backwards facing cap returned to his head. Roddy glanced around, the eyes of the entire room still on him.

“N-no, I’m fine… sorry, Mr. B…”

He looked down and felt like he wanted to crawl in a hole.

“Glad to know you’re doing good back there, Roddy. So, anyone else want to share their thoughts about what should’ve happened to our dear old friend Pozzy? And Alex, don’t think I’ve let you off the hook just yet! I think you might know a little more than you care to admit.”

Alex groaned quietly while Catchy giggled and teased him.

The class returned to normal and Roddy disappeared from everyone’s radar once again. He looked at his stopwatch. It was cracked. One use only.

Oh well. It was fun while it lasted.

At least he had his photos. Fortunately, he had enchanted his camera to resist the time reversal, and scrolled through his gallery. A big smile spread on his face.

He was smiling because, as he heard Alex snickering again with Cathy, talking crap, as usual, he was gazing at pictures on his phone of Alex’s cum covered feet, as well as the selfie he took with him while he was sniffing his own sneaker. He was smiling because, as he heard Eric blab on and on down below, he came across the pics of him wearing Alex’s cap, as cum dripped off his glasses-free face at different angles.

And lastly, he was smiling because Mr. B. actually knew his name….well, that, and all the hot pictures of Mr. Barnes himself, his cum-covered feet, and his frozen face and body, his huge cock and delectable torso.

Though the stopwatch only had one use, it was, overall, a valuable learning experience… and a totally hot one too. That, he could not deny. And maybe, with the discovery of his own latent magic ability, he might be able to fix the heirloom one day. But for now, he was content with the memories (and the photos) of his first real magical experience. And he was sure there would be many more to come.

#male freeze #gay #jock #male feet #mm

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mstgay3000stories · 1 year

Note

Do you have stories involving findom and worship in your collection?

No findom stuff, but I do have some non-hypno/freeze feet stories in there.

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mstgay3000stories · 2 years

Text

Army Brat

Patreon: patreon.com/mstgay3000

From my patreon, where I write new stories every week. Hope you enjoy!

It had been a long day and I was on my way home, after having just got off the bus. The sun was beating down today, and I was exhausted. I was hungry and couldn’t stop thinking about grabbing some snacks from the pantry when I got home, then washing it all down with some good old-fashioned soda. For strictly healthy reasons, of course.

It wasn’t too long before this whole high school thing was over. I had turned eighteen at the start of the year, and now I was already making plans to go to college. I couldn’t wait to get out of my conservative small town, and finally start hooking up with some cute guys. My friends and I talked about it all the time at school, and on our own private discord. June couldn’t come fast enough.

“I’m home!” I called out once I got inside, closing the front door behind me.

“There you are, Junior,” called my mom. She appeared in the foyer to greet me, her hands behind her back. There was a big smile on her face. “I’ve got a surprise for you today sweetie.”

As much as I wanted to ask her if it was some big fat dick, I instead asked: “What is it?” I smiled innocently. She gestured towards the living room.

I walked in and stopped in my tracks.

“Oh,” I said.

My older brother, Rider, was back from the army. It was the last thing I could have expected.

“Sup pipsqueak,” he said, opening a beer and chugging it down.

“Rider, don’t tease your brother,” said my mom. “Isn’t this wonderful? Both my boys are back in the house!”

Rider and I stared at each other quietly for a moment, our eyes meeting while he chugged back his drink, his thick throat working to swallow each mouthful. We said nothing. It was Rider that broke the uncomfortable silence.

“Still a homo?” he said with a nervy grin.

“Rider!” My mom said. I rolled my eyes then hurried to my room.

“Now you’ve gone and upset Junior. Go and apologize.”

“Come on mom, I just got home. Gimme a break and lay off my ass. Not my fault Junior’s a pussy,” Rider said, louder than usual, obviously so that I could hear it. I heard my mom scoff but Rider only laughed.

I slammed the door behind me and locked it.

Damn.

Rider was back. Just my luck.

My older brother and I have never got along. He’s always been bigger, and stronger, and just overall meaner. He was one of those guys that was always working out, even when in his room, just constantly pumping iron or doing situps or running around the block. The army was a great fit for him. He drank a lot too, even when he was a teen, and ignored my mom’s pleas; he never listened to her, and she was always too exhausted to rein him in. It was probably a relief for her that he had been gone the last couple years. There was some partial relief for me too, especially given all his homophobic teasing over the years. I never came out officially, but I think some part of Rider knew (my mom remained in denial, however).

You might think I’m upset to see him again. I certainly have enough reason to be. But the truth is that I am not upset at all. You see, despite my brother’s flaws, and there are a lot of them, Rider was the hottest guy I have ever met.

Yes, you heard right. He was the guy of my wet dreams, though I’d never admit that out loud.

There was just…something about him. His penetrating eyes, his cheekbones, his tall and chiseled body, his dark hair ....all of these things really got to me, did something to me, had an effect on me that no other guy had done before.

He was quiet, brooding, mysterious, yet filled with an undeniable anger that radiated from him like a powerful aura. He was brash and dangerous too, yet it only made him more captivating to me in a way. His body—from his legs, to his barrel chest, to his feet, his arms, even his big fat bubble butt—was perfect. He was perfect…

…asides from the fact that he was also a total jerk.

When I saw him in that living room, it caught me off guard, not only to be back in his presence again, but also because, somehow, his time away from home had made him even hotter. How? I have no idea! How was this possible? Was God punishing me?

His shaved head made him appear even more sexy, and complemented his chiseled face. His body, which was already toned and fit last time I saw him, had filled out a little more, appearing even more masculine, looking even more attractive in his army wear, a real hunk.

The sight of him casually relaxing on the couch, arms spread out, boots on the ottoman, glaring at me with his steely eyes, his broad chin raised up at me in contempt as he drank his favorite nasty cheap beer….I felt like I could have melted on the spot back there in the living room.

I was safe in my own room now, but I also had a huge erection. I whipped out my unit and grabbed hold, closing my eyes and imagining me and Rider naked together, my hands feeling up his cut body, his abs, my lips clinging to his sweaty skin, his breath against my face….

There was a loud thud at my door, forcing my eyes open.

“Mom said dinner in thirty minutes. Don’t be late.” It was Rider. I heard him mumble ‘fag’ under his breath, followed by a small chuckle, before he slammed shut the door to his own room.

That fucking asshole.

I had to do something this time. I had to do something about my awful older brother, and also about my intense horniness.

In the last year, I have been studying hypnosis. I had no idea that the human mind was so vast. It was incredibly intriguing reading all about induction, trance, and the things you could make a person do. It was also, if I’m being honest, really hot too. I had fantasized about hypnotizing my own older brother for a while now. Even thinking about it now made my cock get all wet.

It was time to take action.

I knew that Rider usually stayed up late watching TV and getting drunk downstairs. I had devised a hypno program that I could cast to the TV from my phone, and from there, hopefully I could take control of him. I assumed his alcohol consumption would probably make the induction process easier.

The program I made utilized hypnotic spirals and subliminal messaging, personally crafted to turn Rider into…well, whatever I wanted. We shall see if it holds up. I went to dinner, enjoyed it with my mom (of course, Rider didn’t show up at all despite his threats to me), then went back to my room and worked on my laptop, fine-tuning my hypno program for the rest of the night.

It was midnight now.

I opened my door. I could hear the TV blaring from downstairs in the living room. Rider was watching whatever dumb action movies he usually watched. I sneaked down the stairs, careful not to make too much noise, all the lights off save from the blue and white glow coming from the living room. My mom was already fast asleep, so now it was just me and Rider.

I peeked into the living room and saw my brother. He was still in his army fatigues, still in his boots. His shirt was open, however, revealing a white cotton tee underneath, thin and clinging to his muscular chest. Several empty beer cans were on the floor. He was currently drinking another one while the TV flickered.

Rider finished the can then burped loudly, hitting his chest. His eyes were half-lidded, like he was in a trance himself, though he was just casually watching TV. His arms were sprawled on the back of the couch again, and he had his feet on the ottoman. I pulled away and leaned my back against the wall, gazing upwards as I took a deep breath. It was now or never.

I peeked again and Rider was checking his phone. This was the perfect chance!

He was busy texting (probably some late night hookup or something), while I took the chance to cast my video to the TV. One more button press….and there!

I peeked into the living room again. The screen had changed. Rider didn’t notice that the TV went silent. On the screen was a large spiral, spinning endlessly, giving off an ominous blue and white glow. I gazed at it for a few moments, and immediately felt drawn to it, before snapping back to awareness.

I covered my eyes. That was close! The hypno spiral was a lot more potent than I realized. For just a few moments, it felt like my brain was turning into fudge, but it felt so good. If it worked on me that easily, then it probably had an even better effect on my dumb brother. Only one way to find out.

I peeked again into the living room. That idiot Rider was still on his phone! He was smirking now as he texted, oblivious to the change on the screen. I was getting impatient.

“What the fuck?” he said, finally glancing up.

His eyes were on the TV and he grabbed the remote, doing his best to change the channel. Fortunately, I had the technical foresight to disable the remote from my own phone with another ingenious app, just for this instance. The spiral continued to move on screen, only now….it was starting to reel in its first victim.

The spiral had tons of subliminal suggestions that only one’s subconscious could process. The spiral itself had words embedded in it, all in a hypnotic code that I had researched online. It was imperceptible to the naked eye, but the subconscious could detect it and would also take direction from it.

In this particular case, there were several phrases embedded that said ‘relax’, ‘don’t look away’, ‘you feel so wonderful’, ‘cannot look away from the spiral’, ‘the spiral makes you feel so good’. Stuff like that, on repeat, over and over. Even someone as dumb as Rider would be fooled by it; in fact, it would probably be easier since he was already on his way to getting plastered.

“The fuck is going on?” Rider said.

His thick brows were knitted angrily and he was hunched over, his feet on the floor now, as he tried to get his movie back online. He ended up throwing the remote on the floor, breaking it, but when his eyes returned to the screen again, he stared at it silently.

“Come on, dumbass,” I said quietly to myself. “Come on, come on, come on.” Would the spiral work? Was his subconscious picking up on the cues being embedded into his brain? I checked my phone. The spiral’s power meter was only at 70 percent. I raised the dial and made it a hundred percent.

I looked back. Rider’s face still looked mad. I knew that angry, frustrated look anywhere. His lips were a grim, straight line, and he looked like he was going to punch a hole in the TV next. His fingers were curled up into tight balls, ready to fight or start something. But he didn’t. He continued to stare at the screen anyway, angry as he was.

As I watched unnoticed, I felt an anticipation that I had never experienced. The spiral was at full power now. Rider was silent, but I knew that his brain had to have been put in the wringer by the spiral on the screen, it had to have been! All those encouraging words, going into his brain through his eyeballs, making his strong body relax, making him unwind—making him submit.

This had to work!

Then, it happened. Slowly, like a ball of yarn gradually unfurling, his face began to relax, to crack, to visibly show signs of letting go.

I let out a quiet exhale.

I watched intently as his face muscles began to loosen up, his forehead un-creasing, his jaw unlocking. His eyes took on a soft quality, something I had never seen in him before, his pupils twinkling with the gleam of the screen, his eyelids closing half-way giving him this dreamy, sleepy expression. His mouth slowly slipped open, and he leaned back onto the couch, his spine reclining, his fists on his thighs. I noticed his fingers slowly began to uncurl themselves too, leaving his palms open, his fingers slightly bent, sometimes twitching, as if some part of him were resisting but failing nonetheless. He let out the softest of sighs, so gentle and unlike his usually fiery temperament, almost like a whimper.

It was the sound of defeat.

My dick was already rock hard. My older brother was in a trance! The TV had taken hold of him, despite his furious efforts. His body language completely demonstrated all the signs of someone that was in a deep and powerful hypnosis. My own brother! I could hardly breathe.

I had to refocus. It was my turn now. I had to take control of Rider while he was in this state.

I cleared my throat and stood in the living room doorway. Rider didn’t notice me.

“Rider?”

He kept staring blankly at the spiral on the TV, completely ignoring me again, his mouth a little more open. God, I was so hard!

I walked forward, still careful so as not to look at the screen myself, and then examined Rider the best I could. I waved my hand in front of his eyes. No response. I held his hand up then dropped it back onto his thigh. I picked up his boot and did the same. He didn’t react to any of it. He didn’t flinch or blink the entire time. I noticed a little bit of saliva appearing at the end of his mouth, leaking onto his chin, and almost wet myself.

Using my phone, I changed the spiral on the screen to an alternate. This spiral was pink, and would focus on making Rider extremely suggestible. The room glowed with a pink light now, and even better, I noticed Rider’s once fierce gaze dilating. My dick was fully extended.

“Rider, can you hear me?”

“Yeah….” His voice was so quiet, so subdued, so unlike the usual bossy, angry tone I was used to hearing him speak in.

“You are in a deep, deep trance. You cannot resist. You must listen and do whatever I tell you, no matter what.”

“No matter what…” he repeated sluggishly. His hypnotized voice seriously rang all my bells and whistles.

I watched him as he stared at the screen, knowing full well that his trance was deepening a thousandfold, taking him further into a wonderfully suggestible state. More drool appeared on his chin. He was so hot like this!

“Smile.”

He smiled, his eyes still transfixed, his mouth half open. It was a dumb, goofy smile. I had never seen him like this in years. It made me sad, in a way, yet also extremely aroused.

“Stick out your tongue.” He did as he was told, looking even stupider, his eyes reflecting the pink spiral on the TV, completely tranced out. He stayed in that position, and I couldn’t help wanting to touch him. He and I never had any contact ever. But seeing his stupefied face, his dilated eyes staring blankly at the screen, his mouth drooling and smiling with his tongue out….I reached out to him with my hand.

I placed it right on his nape. I felt a rush, afraid that he was going to wake up and hit me or yell at me. But he did none of those things. He kept staring at the TV mindlessly, becoming even more hypnotized, while my own cock was about to explode with excitement.

I stroked his nape gently, encouraging his trance, telling him how much he likes feeling this way, how much he wants to serve me and become my stupid hypnotized big brother. I stroked the side of his face, thrilled that he didn’t even blink, my words continuing to take him deeper.

I just loved how happy he was like this. It was then I realized I always wanted him to be happy. I was tired of being afraid in his presence, of his bullying demeanor. I guess I just wanted him to be a big brother for once, a real brother.

Also, I wanted him to be my sex pet too. Let’s not get too sentimental here, I really wasn’t the type. I started programming Rider with a new personality. I wanted him to believe that it was his duty, as my older brother, to take care of me, to protect me, and of course, to love me. That included doing whatever I wanted, at any time, and with full enthusiasm. No matter how gay, no matter how much he disagreed. He loved to do what I said. He loved everything about me, and nothing was off bounds to me.

I had such a hard time believing that any of this would stick. Rider was always such a willful, stubborn douchebag. But yet his hypnotized, stupid expression at the moment, tongue out and grinning, eyes spiraling; it was all the proof I needed. The guy was leagues under in trance. All I needed to do was assert myself a little more.

“Alright Rider,” I said, pulling my hand back. “Your trance is now thousands of times stronger. You know what to do. Also, whenever I say the words ‘big dumb brother’, you will go back to this blissful, mindless state. I am going to snap my fingers and you will be back to your usual self, your new personality ready to go.”

Rider was silent, staring and drooling and grinning at the TV with his tongue out. It was showtime.

I snapped my fingers. Rider immediately shook his head and sucked his tongue back in. I turned the spiral off with my phone and the movie resumed.

“Oh, fuck,” he said, wiping his mouth.

I turned on the lights, startling him.

“Junior?” he said.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Was I asleep?”

I nodded.

“Oh. What are you doing up so late?”

“I heard you watching TV and thought I’d come and join you. Is that alright?”

There was another tense silence between us. He stared at me in disbelief. I was expecting him to scoff and start name-calling again, business as usual.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Of course you can join me, bro! There’s nothing I’d like more.”

He smiled at me. He actually smiled! A genuine, heartfelt, brotherly expression. My face turned red.

“Well?” he said. “Are you just gonna stand there? Come on, bro, have a seat.” He patted the cushion next to him. I gulped and hurried forward, hiding my erection in my pajama pants.

He returned to watching his movie….only this time he put his arm behind me.

Holy shit.

“Something wrong?” He looked at me with an authentic concern.

“No. Not at all. In fact, I think everything….is alright, bro. Really alright.”

“I hope so, Junior. If you need anything, just let me know.” He winked at me. Now that was something I never thought I would have ever seen in my life.

We watched his movie for a few more minutes before I decided to test the waters.

“Hey, Rider?”

“What’s up?”

“Can you take off your shirt?”

“Of course, bro.”

My jaw was on the floor as Rider immediately took off his army shirt, leaving him in his white undershirt instead. He went back to watching his movie, only this time he scooped me closer towards him, as if I were his girlfriend. I looked up at him in awe, not only of what was happening, but of how powerful the trance in his mind must actually be for him to be agreeing to all this.

And if he was willing to do this, then…

“Can you take off your undershirt too?”

“Sure, bro.”

I held my breath as he did as I asked, without any effort. We resumed the same position, only now I was right next to his hot, shirtless torso, my eyes bulging as I stared at his ripped physique. I could smell his body spray and musk, I could feel his warmth, and my cock jumped between my legs as if it had been jolted by a surge of lightning. I basked in the warmth of his big muscular arm holding me.

“Can I touch your body, Rider?”

“Bro,” Rider said, looking down at me with the kindest expression. “You can do whatever you want to me. You know that.” He affectionately rubbed my chin, and I felt myself squirt with precum.

I noticed, however, that there was a slight dilation in Rider’s pupils, the mark of someone that was clearly acting against their own will. It wasn’t as noticeable as when he drooling stupidly, but it was definitely there. Not that it mattered.

Rider, and his body, was mine.

I let my hands start to touch my brother’s body. I felt up his firm chest, then let my hands slide over his abs. He didn’t react to me at all. I let him know I intended to kiss, maybe even worship him a little, and he shrugged it off as no big deal. None of this was a big deal to him.

But it was a big deal to me.

As my hands felt his muscles, gently prodding or squeezing them, sliding against them, feeling them against my palms, my mouth was immediately drawn to his nipples. I licked them, curiously at first, flicking my tongue against them, and was delighted when they started to perk up. I was excited with the unmitigated freedom I now possessed, and even more impressed at how Rider didn’t take notice of me. At one point he even started texting over me, as I licked his nipples even more, especially when they got fully stiff.

I asked him to raise his arms up, and he did, still texting away but now allowing me to get right to his pits. I licked and worshiped his underarms, feeding on his musk, something I had always dreamed of. I heard him laugh, but then realized it was because of whatever he was texting, smiling at his own phone while I was left smiling too; mostly because I was licking each sexy pit freely and loving every second.

His arms came back down, and then I fastened my mouth to his abs. I licked and groped them, squeezing them, amazed at how hard and how cut they were. All that training in the army really paid off, and I was reaping all the benefits.

From there, I went to his arms. I held one of his arms like I was eating corn on the cob, and he yielded easily each time, sometimes gazing at his phone, or the TV, while I licked and devoured every chiseled muscle, taking turns with each arm. The guy had guns that could totally kill a ‘pipsqueak’ like me.

“I want to suck your dick,” I said, as I sucked on his biceps. I blurted the words out, without thinking, the natural procession from all this fondling and groping and kissing.

“All yours bro. Let me cancel on this bitch though. She wants to meet up tonight, but we’re having brother time.”

“Yeah. Brother time.” I kissed his arms loudly.

After he was done, he unzipped and pulled out his cock. “Do you want me to get hard for you, bro?”

“Uh…sure?” I said, inbetween kisses on his triceps.

He spit, and then, to my amazement, began stroking himself right in front of me. I watched as his huge pecker (and it was fucking huge, no lie), began to balloon in his hand, becoming a full-on monstrosity right before my eyes. Once he got to full hardness, he let go, his manhood slapping against his stomach.

“Alright, there you go. Let me know if you need anything else.” He ruffled my hair and went back to watching TV, his huge cock now fully stiff and waiting for me to dig in. I almost fell off the couch.

I grabbed his meat, taking a moment to revel in how it felt in my hand. I glanced up, expecting retaliation at any moment, but Rider was just watching Netflix casually. He even cracked open another can of beer that was nearby and began drinking away, while I began to stroke.

I stroked, and stroked. I felt him harden even more, sometimes with a soft hiss from his lips, but he did not stop me. I watched as his meat began to stew in precum, my mouth watering at the sight, before I went in and started sucking.

“Ooh damn, Junior, you’re fucking really good at this,” he said with a lighthearted chuckle, as I began to suck on his firmness. It was the first cock I had ever eaten. I was hungry for it. I gagged at times, struggling to keep it down, but Rider was patient with me, sometimes even stroking my head lovingly, never once telling me off.

“That’s nice,” he said, sipping his beer. “Real nice, little bro…”

My head bobbed on his meat and I squeezed for dear life, sucking and taking him for all he was worth, which, in this moment, was a whole fucking lot! He tensed then let out a loud groan, so manly and virile, as he squirted down my throat. I forced myself to drink it all up, my eyes tearing up, but not once did I want to miss this, no matter how hard it was to drink! So much cum, and every drop was delicious.

When I was done, I wiped my mouth and my head fell in his lap.

“Fucking nice one, bro. Never knew you could do that,” he said. I gazed up at him as he drank his beer and I began to fondle his fingers. He let me play with them, my cock still hard as ever from how willing, how hypnotized, he really was. I sucked on his fingers, the taste of his cum still lingering on my lips.

“Kiss me Rider.”

I got up and he embraced me. We kissed. I made out with him, feeding him his own cum, and he kept up with me, both of us trading tongue and smacking our lips. I moaned, surrendering to my big brother, and he kissed me back, just like I wanted him to.

“Suck my dick,” I said breathlessly.

“Sure,” he said, giving me one last kiss.

I was not expecting that response. He gently laid me on the couch as if I were the most precious thing to him, and before I knew it, I was in his grasp. He pulled my pajama pants down and promptly returned the favor, sucking me down while my eyes almost crossed from the pleasure shooting through me. My fingers caressed his shaved head, and he was so careful, so tender with me, as he worked me. I looked down at him, his eyes closed in bliss, his cheeks sucking in as he gave his very first blowjob.

And it was all for me.

“God yes!” I cried out, arching my head back as I blasted into his throat. He took me down easily, never stopping or anything, chugging every drop obediently. We finished and he wiped his mouth.

“You good?”

“I’m good.” He licked his lips of the last bits of cum, smiled, then fistbumped me, then went back to watching his movie. Nothing was said about what he had done, despite how gay, how illicit it was all was.

I wanted more.

“Can I take your boots off for you?”

“Sure thing, pal.”

He put his feet on the ottoman, and I got in front of him. He watched the TV above me, opening up another can, while I had the pleasure of taking off my brother’s boots.

I untied each one, then slipped them off. There was a nice, sweaty musk to each shoe. He had been wearing them all day, and the smell made me hard instantly. I sniffed each boot, the smell overtaking my senses, a preview of things to come.

I put them down, then focused on his socked feet, clad in black, so big and tempting, their shapes perfect and masculine. I had always harbored a thing for feet, especially Rider’s, and I could hardly believe they were now mine for the taking.

I peeled off each sweaty, damp sock, and was even more enthralled by the sight of his perfect soles. They were sweaty and soft. The smell was delightful, and each toe was perfect. The arches were high on each foot, and I loved how excellently Rider took care of his feet, which, from what I understood, was very important for any soldier. I started kneading them, sniffing them at the same time, which caused Rider to growl.

“You are the best little brother ever,” he said. “I can’t believe you’re willing to give me a footrub. I would have killed for something like this back on duty. Literally.”

I didn’t doubt it. I began to lick each foot sensually, causing Rider even more pleasure, which in turn aroused me further. His eyelids fluttered as my tongue dragged up each sole, the sweaty taste exhilarating to me, his reactions and low moaning making my dick go haywire. I had no idea his feet were so sensitive. He responded so passionately to my licks and kisses, encouraging me, his feet tensing in joy. And when I got to the toes, it was like he was about to orgasm himself.

“Oh fuck yes,” he said, closing his eyes happily, as I began to service every toe. The taste, the feel of them in my mouth, Rider’s intense reactions; all of it made me wet again, my mouth working overtime as I gave each yummy morsel their due. I licked the base of his toes, then went after multiple at a time, slurping them into my mouth, and was more than pleasantly surprised when my big bro actually got hard from it.

He moaned quietly and started stroking, surprising me, showing me a side that I had never seen before. The fact that Rider’s feet were a sensitive spot for him really turned me on. Despite his moaning and ecstatic expression, I could still see the hypnotic gleam in his eye. He probably would have been humiliated, and absolutely infuriated, if he knew his ‘faggy’ little brother had stumbled upon this part of himself.

I took full advantage. My tongue kept worshiping, kept working, kept licking and flicking, my fingers tenderizing the soft meaty flesh of his soles, while my brother stroked himself slowly, enjoying it as much as I did.

“You’re gonna make me cum….holy shit bro,” he said, stroking himself faster while I sucked his toes for a second time.

“Don’t cum yet,” I said, my mouth smacking loudly as I sucked the big toes simultaneously. “Let me cum on your feet first.”

“Of course, bro. Anything you say.”

I brought out my own aching cock and started fucking his feet. I was actually fucking my older brother’s feet. I watched as he writhed on the couch, his toes curling and even helping me during the footjob, his beautiful, large feet milking my cock so spectacularly that I almost passed out.

I loved the sounds of his ecstatic moaning, his twisted facial expressions, his big feet tensing against my quivering rod, all the juices exchanged between us. His own cock was about to burst, and for a moment, we looked at each other, his feet holding my dick captive. Our eyes met, my own desperate for my brother; his eyes, glazed with pleasure and with a trance that only I could detect, that only I could control.

We both cried out at the same time, both of us jizzing ourselves at that moment. I creamed his sexy feet well and good, and he shot onto his own stomach and face, clenching his cock as tightly as his feet held my own. We were both done and wet and covered in milk.

“I love you bro,” I said.

“I love you too,” he answered back, making my heart flutter.

“I have one thing left to say to you, Rider.”

“What’s that?” He looked eager to hear what I had to say, so patient, so loving with me.

“Big dumb brother.”

At that, his eyes rolled up and tongue fell out of his mouth. His body went slack and his head fell back onto the couch.

“Gahhhh,” he said, his eyes dilating heavily instantly. He looked like he had been lobotomized. But he wasn’t. He was just back in that same happy trance, only now it was far more powerful.

I told you I wasn’t sentimental.

Yes, it was sweet that Rider was now my big and loving protector. But that still didn’t make up for all the years of torment at his hands. I wanted a sex pet on top of all that, and now I had it.

I stripped Rider down so that he was completely naked now. His body was loose, like some big muscular drooling rag doll.

“You love being in trance, don’t you, you big dumb brother you?” I said, sniffing his underwear.

He gurgled incomprehensibly at hearing his trigger again, drooling even more onto himself, smiling stupidly, completely out of his mind. I grabbed his feet and immediately started to fuck them again, only now I had the pleasure of watching Rider drool stupidly all over himself, his eyes crossed, his mouth grinning moronically, which in turn was even hotter than the mutual orgasm we just shared.

His feet felt so good against my cock a second time, and his stupefied face and complete mindlessness set me off once again, allowing me to shoot all over his soles, toes, and legs. Mm mm mmm.

“Rider,” I said.

He groaned mindlessly, which sounded more like some delirious chuckle.

“Get over here and put your face on the ottoman. Close your mouth first.”

He got up, like some happy, drooling zombie, tongue wagging. He closed his mouth then dropped to his knees clumsily, his chin hitting the ottoman, a dumb smile on his face. His eyes were on the TV now, but they registered nothing. His chiseled arms were at his sides, dragging on the floor like a caveman.

His ass, however, was now sticking out, and it was time for me to claim my brother as the sex toy he was meant to be.

I used my app again and made the TV play my spiral again.

“Ohhhhhh…..mmmmmfff….ahahaha….” Rider said, gazing happily at the screen as a more powerful spiral now wrecked whatever was left of his brain. He drooled onto the ottoman itself, mindlessly hypnotizing himself by watching the screen. I did my best not to look, but it wasn’t hard. I had so much to gaze upon already.

My brother’s beautiful body was now at my disposal. He gurgled like some pathetic, whimpering baby, while I got to look at his luscious ass, his broad shoulders, his sinewy spine, his loosened arms. I opened his buttocks, and spied his amazing tight little hole down below, my next target.

I was going to enjoy this.

My cock was well enough lubed, and more than erect. I fingered Rider, and he groaned-giggled again, his hole quivering against my touch, unable to stop me as I loosened him up. I enjoyed how tight he was, and how his body responded to my touch, no matter how forceful it was.

My cockhead soon made its way to his pucker, and I slowly began to enter inside him. My eyes closed in exertion, pain, and bliss, thinking of all the times Rider had teased me, put me down, beat me up, and aroused me unknowingly over the years. This was his punishment. This was my prize. We deserved what we were getting.

He moaned louder as I got deeper inside him. I clawed his back, my fingers digging into his muscular body as I ravaged his hole, grunting like an animal as I minted my older brother, making him mine, fucking the life out of him.

“Oh god, fuck yes Rider. Fuck you Rider. Fuck yes! Fuck you!”

I kept fucking him, making him my hypnotized older brother bitch, me the younger little bro, the pipsqueak fag, and him, the drooling moron, my mesmerized plaything, my fucking brother!

I cried out, yelling so loud I might have woken my mom. I shot my load, making us both tremble with excitement. I was happy to feel Rider cumming down below me, and as we came down, he sighed happily, still staring blankly at the TV, drooling and grinning and giggling as jizz leaked out of his hole.

I pulled out, enjoying every drop that came with that, then fell onto the floor exhausted. I turned the spiral off, then started laughing as I spotted my older brother still in the same position, his body twitching from the intense fucking I had given him, still staring dopily at a blank screen.

“Tell me you love me Rider.”

“I love you, bro….” he said awkwardly in a crazed sing-song voice, before giggling stupidly at the spiral on our TV.

“You’re damn fucking right you do.”

******

My mom was busy making breakfast downstairs. She heard footsteps on the stairs and called out to us.

“Is that you Junior? Rider?”

“It’s me mom,” I said.

“I’m making some bacon and eggs. Is your brother up?”

“Yep,” Rider said, following me downstairs.

We both entered the kitchen. Mom was delighted to see us. She was caught off guard when Rider hugged her then kissed her on her forehead.

“What did I do?”

“Be the best mom ever,” he said. She was so touched it looked like she was going to cry. We ate breakfast together, and chatted like a normal family. No insults, no veiled homophobia, no arguments. Rider told mom he’d give me a ride to school in his car.

“That’s so nice of you, Rider. I don’t know what’s going on, but please, keep it up.”

Rider and I grinned at each other.

“What can I say mom? Being gone from the army so long made me realize how much I miss my family. Junior’s my little brother. He deserves the best.” He winked at me again, and I smiled back. My mom looked over the moon.

We cleaned up, wished our mom a nice day, then headed out together. When we were out of the house, I turned to Rider.

“Kiss me.”

He swooped me in his arms and we made out on the porch, my cock already tenting. Our neighbors saw us and looked completely shocked. I didn’t care.

Rider and I left in his car, and as we did, my hand reached for his crotch, which was already hard for his little bro…and his new lifelong master.

#gay hypnosis #hypnosis #hypnotized #m2m #jock #feet

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mstgay3000stories · 2 years

Text

The H Gun

A boy will do anything to get his crush, even if it means using a strange new toy. Check out my patreon for more. Now accepting commissions, check the stickied post for more info.

There wasn’t anything Michael could do to get the attention of the biggest crush he ever had. His name was Robby. He was a college sophomore, just like Michael was, and also a swimmer too, which gave his tall body a nice physique, not too muscular, not too skinny, but oh so right. He had dark hair, and penetrating eyes, and had a certain air about him that Michael found intoxicating. Robby carried himself like some dignified prince from a holiday movie; he was polite, never vulgar, and kept to himself unless asked. He dressed cleanly and stylishly, his dark hair always combed, his clothes perfectly fitted. He could melt a person just with his beautiful gaze alone, though it seemed he only kept such a power for his girlfriend, who doted on him whenever they weren’t in class.

He was straight and impossible to seduce, and it made Michael extremely sad about things.

That is, until he found something called ‘The H Gun’.

It looked like a toy. Apparently, the older models were called ‘The Hypno Gun’, which made the thing appear even more ridiculous. This newer model was smaller, sleeker, but still had the same radar-like attachment, with a big painted spiral on it that spun whenever the trigger was pulled. Unlike the former model it could also fit into one’s pocket, and came with other options the former Hypno Gun models never had. Supposedly, it emitted hypnotic rays that would make someone extremely suggestible, after putting them into a deep trance.

Michael bought it. He knew it was stupid but he had nothing to lose. If there were even a hair’s chance of getting Robby, his dream boy, to open up to him, he was going to take it.

After getting the silly-looking toy gun in the mail, Michael waited until the perfect moment. Robby and his friends usually ate at the same eatery on campus on Wednesdays, usually at lunch hour when they all had a break between classes. He was banking on Robby’s politeness to draw the stud away from his friends under the guise of needing help with one of their mutual classes. Michael only needed a few moments, and if the gun failed (which he was sure it would), then he could blow it all off like some ridiculous joke.

Wednesday arrived, and Michael sat outside the eatery, on a bench near some bushes. The little restaurant was packed with hungry students, and there, sitting outside on the patio at their usual spot, was Robby and his attractive group of friends. His girlfriend hung on his arm, clinging to the sleeve of his swim team jacket as if she were afraid Robby were going to be snatched up by someone at any second. Robby wore a polo underneath, some jeans and sneakers, and had a placid smile on his face while everyone around him guffawed and chatted.

Michael felt butterflies in his stomach. He checked his gun one last time, making sure all the parts were intact, especially the spiral radar attachment at the end of it. He heard a few clicks as he moved everything into position, nodded to himself in reassurance, then got up to take his chance, gun in his pocket.

He felt even more nervous as he approached Robby and his friends, who looked like a gathering of hot models from some teenage soap. In fact, he was thinking of abandoning his plan altogether. But then he took another look at Robby, at his flawless profile, his height, his beautiful body, his gorgeous face. No. He had to get this over with.

He got close enough to the group where he could be seen and cleared his throat. A few in the group caught sight of him, immediately turned off by his presence. Robby, however, didn’t seem to notice. Michael cleared his throat louder, and this time, Robby turned in his direction.

Michael’s face flushed with color. It was the first time they had ever made eye contact. Robby’s eyes were even more beautiful than he thought: crystal clear, thoughtful and glimmering, sitting underneath thick dark arches for eyebrows. Michael stammered, but felt the toy gun in his pocket, and his resolve came back.

“Uh, Robby?” he said.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Robby said politely. His girlfriend immediately shot daggers at Michael.

“We have the same class, uh, English?”

“Oh right. Thought you looked familiar.”

Michael had trouble maintaining eye contact and immediately looked down at his feet. Robby’s beautiful eyes were making him nervous.

“I, um, was absent last week, and the professor said I should ask someone for notes.” Michael started rubbing the back of his neck. He felt beads of sweat start to drip down his forehead, and felt like running away again. “Would you be able to help me with that? Sorry to bother you.”

Robby looked at the nervous wreck in front of him, not with disdain, like some of the other people in the group, but with patience. He nodded his head.

“Sure, bro. Not a problem.”

Michael was so stunned by the answer, that he almost forgot what his plan was. Robby was as friendly and affable as he envisioned.

“I uh, oh wow, thanks so much. My bag is just over there, could you just come with and—”

Robby nodded in understanding. He turned to his girlfriend. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“You better,” she said. She gave Michael one more distrustful glance, before turning to the rest of the group.

Robby followed Michael away from the cafe patio. Michael felt like his heart was in his throat; he could barely walk straight.

“So,” Robby said, “you were gone last week, you said? Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I was just...not feeling well,” Michael said, not even able to look in Robby’s direction. He could hardly believe this was happening. He led Robby to a space behind a tall building nearby, where he had left his backpack. The building was in close proximity with another just like it, casting a heavy shadow over both of them. They settled in the small space between.

“Interesting place to leave your bag,” Robby said, eyeing the tight space with a half amused look.

“Sorry, I like to study here. It’s er, nice and quiet.”

“I can see that. Nice place to take a nap too. Maybe after practice or something. Now you're giving me ideas.”

Michael laughed nervously.

“So my bag is just right over here,” Michael said, his back turned to Robby. He fumbled with his pocket, then turned around, but now holding the H Gun in his hand. Robby’s handsome visage twisted into shock.

“Whoa there,” Robby said, putting his hands up defensively. “I don’t want any trouble.” Michael felt bad for just a moment, but this would all be worth it.

“It’s not what it seems,” Michael said. “It’s just a toy.”

Robby narrowed his eyes. “Oh. What’s the deal then?”

“I don’t know. I just….I have to do this.” Michael held the gun up as if it were a real weapon.

Robby, on the other hand, knowing now it was just some silly toy, looked a little irritated at Michael’s bizarre behavior and his even more bizarre toy. “Yeah, I don’t think I can help you buddy. Sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

Michael pulled the trigger...and to his horror, nothing happened. “Shit!” He banged the gun and tried desperately to get it off, but there was some kind of malfunction. His panic kept rising, while Robby’s patience grew thin.

“Okay, see you around,” Robby said, as he began walking away, placing his hands in his pockets.

“No, wait!”

Robby’s back was now facing Michael as he took his leave. But at that moment, the gun flickered on. The spiral started spinning, and a soft amber light hit Robby right in the back of his swim team jacket. He paused in place.

Michael gasped.

There was no response.

Robby, however, had stopped in his tracks, both feet now firmly in the grass.

Michael kept the gun aimed at his illicit crush; he could feel some kind of buzz or energy radiating from the constantly spinning radar attachment. He slowly approached Robby, and as Robby’s face came into view, Michael’s mouth fell open in awe.

Robby was staring blankly into the distance, no longer blinking. His eyes had glowing yellow spirals in them, and he had the same placid smile that he had at the cafe, only now it looked dreamier, like he was….

...like he was hypnotized. Very deeply hypnotized.

Michael waved his hand in front of Robby’s face, but there was zero response from the swim jock.

“Robby?” he said.

“Yes,” Robby replied in an even dreamier voice. Robby’s lofty voice sent a shiver that went straight to his groin.

The gun worked. Robby was now displaying all the symptoms that the H Gun manual had listed: his cloudy face, sleepy tone, unblinking eyes, spiral lights spinning in his pupils. The swim jock had succumbed.

And now it was Robby’s turn to do his part. His heart was pounding, but so was his crotch.

“Uh, can you walk over there and put your back against the wall please?”

“Sure,” Robby said in his dreamy voice. He did as he was told, moving back into the shadows, calmly placing his strong back against the building.

Michael took a closer look at his now subdued crush. Never had his lust felt so overpowering. He was obsessed with the glassy-eyed look on Robby's face. He adored how unresponsive he was, the endlessly spinning lights in his eyes, the weird hypnotized smile on his beautiful face. He didn’t think the gun would work, but not only did it do what it said it would do, it went far and beyond it.

He leaned in closer, thinking Robby would snap out of his trance. But the gun, which Michael kept aimed at him, still had the jock under his control.

He felt drawn to Robby’s face, so mesmerized, so unnaturally still, so strangely pleasant despite how sinister the hold on his brain was. The longer Michael gazed at it, the more he felt like he was being hypnotized himself, by Robby’s handsome, though mind controlled, expression.

He kept moving closer and closer...until his lips made contact with his crush.

He started groping Robby; he started kissing him. Robby didn’t push back, his hands still in his jacket pockets. Michael’s tongue ventured into Robby’s mouth, tasting his sweet minty breath, his cock now at full mast, his whole body rippling with desire. He pushed against the jock, crushing his crush against the wall with his own weight, his cock lunging towards Robby while he remained passive and willing.

He pulled away for a breath, and loved how Robby’s lips resumed into its dreamy grin, completely oblivious to what had happened to him, eyes still glowing endlessly. Michael went in again, kissing harder, groping with more hunger, his cock raging even more. He pushed harder against Robby’s body, like he wanted to push him into the wall itself, grinding his tenting bulge against his crush’s sexy form.

He stopped kissing just for a brief moment, making sure the coast was clear. Only a few students had passed by, but it only looked like two guys kissing, which was no big deal at the campus these days. The building’s shadow kept Michael and his hypnotized stud well out of everyone’s sight.

Michael took another hungry kiss, slobbering all over Robby’s jaw and neck, all while Robby remained deeply mesmerized and unaware, his hands still in his pockets despite all Michael had done to him.

Just for fun, and because he was afraid the swim jock might yet wake at any second, he held the gun up to Robby’s temple and turned up the power. He pulled the trigger, and an even brighter light hit Robby’s face. His eyes started rolling up into his head, glowing even more now, his smile broadening, as deeper waves of hypno bliss filled his brain. Michael moaned as he watched Robby’s usually calm face experience a deep seated pleasure, making him look even hotter.

“Get more hypnotized Robby. Soak it all in. You love being hypnotized. You love being my plaything.”

“Love being hypnotized,” Robby said softly, his eyes rolling up repeatedly. “Mmmm...love being your plaything…”

Michael nodded encouragingly, hypnotizing Robby with the gun longer and longer, and just like that, he came in his pants unexpectedly.

He couldn’t help it. Watching his crush submit to him like this, seeing his orgasmic expression, his glowing eyes; hearing that wonderfully hypnotized voice….

It did quite a number on Michael’s body.

He let the gun drill Robby with more energy, and when he was done, Robby was left looking even more transfixed, the spirals in his pupils spinning faster, the smile on his face even more satisfied.

“Oh yeah. Much nicer now, don’t you agree?”

“Yeahh,” Robby said hazily.

Michael kissed him again, running the fingers of one hand through Robby’s hair, delighting in the slick feel of it, as well as the taste and warmth of Robby’s mouth. The fact that he was straight added an even better finish to the overall taste and pleasure of it all.

More students passed, some even commented on what they had seen, giggling. From the outset, it looked like two cute gay guys making out, like something from a romance movie. But one look closer would reveal how strange and out of place everything truly was, especially given that only one of them was gay, and only one of them was doing anything.

No one bothered them, but Michael knew he had to be quick. Robby’s phone started buzzing in his jacket pocket, and he checked it: Robby’s girlfriend was demanding his location.

He returned to Robby. “Robby, you are feeling very hypnotized right now, aren’t you?”

“Yes...mmmm, very hypnotized.”

“Stay in trance, go deeper, feel even better. And as you do, become more willing to do whatever I say.”

“Stay in trance….deeper….better….do whatever you say...ahhhh….” he said woozily.

Michael felt his rod twinge once again.

He wanted to play with Robby all night, but he just didn’t have the time. Not right now, at least.

He moved downwards, allowing his hand to stroke Robby’s cut torso. He raised the polo shirt, spotting the beautiful abs, and gave it a long, hard lick, teasing his own cock even more. It was so hard, so warm, the skin supple and soft. He loved how Robby still hadn’t reacted. He licked it several times, his cock becoming more heated with every repetition, until it was precumming once again, as if the abs itself were an appetizer for what was to come. His cock, however, wanted those abs now.

He unzipped, freeing his stiffy, then started rubbing it against Robby’s hard stomach.

“Oh fuck yes,” he said quietly, his cock sliding up the boy’s polo shirt, precum dripping down the ridges of each muscle. He leaned in closer and took Robby’s hypnotized face, kissing him and tonguing him deeply, while his cock continued to slide and rub against his taut abs. He bit on Robby’s bottom lip when he felt himself cum. Cum shot out, and dribbled downwards, coating the hard edges of the swimmer’s stomach like a marinade.

Michael pulled away, flush with desire again, and felt himself get hard just staring at Robby’s hypnotized expression, which still hadn’t changed even as cum dripped down his stomach.

Michael fell to his knees and unzipped Robby, eyeing the fresh trails of shiny jizz that led downwards into Robby’s groin. He could already tell the jock was packing, which had him giddy.

When he was done unzipping, it was revealed that Robby had a huge bulge, in white designer briefs. The outline was thick and meaty, leaving little to the imagination. Michael pulled the waistband and let it snap against Robby’s waist. He glanced up, to see if the hypnotized jock would react. He did not, even after several rubberbanding motions done at the waistband, each snap against the skin more satisfying than the last.

Michael pulled the underwear down, and freed the swim jock’s amply sized member. He held it in his hand, feeling a sense of triumph, his eyes widening at the length. He began stroking it, causing it to fill out, aiding its erection by swirling his tongue around the cockhead and foreskin.

Soon, the swim jock became fully hard, his massive girth extending past Michael’s face. Michael held onto it steadfastly, his eyes glancing up at his hypnotized company, whose gaze never wavered even with his cock held hostage.

Michael continued to lap at the cockhead until precum oozed out. He licked it up excitedly, then began to devour Robby’s cock itself.

Nothing could describe the joy Michael felt as he sucked on Robby’s meat. It throbbed and spit more juice down his throat, and he took it in as far as he could get it, knowing full well that this was not his to enjoy. The H Gun had given him a free pass to these forbidden goods, and they were every bit as tantalizing and delicious as he had always imagined. His straight boy crush had an amazing cock, and it filled his heart (and throat) with happiness.

He sucked on Robby’s meat heartily, wrenching the shaft, his head bobbing. His eyelids fluttered as he went back and forth, touching the back of his own throat with the huge tool, until Robby came. His hips jerked forward a few times, subconsciously, cumming hard down Michael’s throat, which he aptly drank. But Robby’s face never changed, still firmly in trance, not even glancing down at what had been done. His hands still remained in his pockets, like he was merely posting casually behind a building, and not having his giant cock sucked by some horny gay classmate that was obsessed with him.

Robby’s phone kept buzzing. It was a reminder that Michael still had to hurry. But he didn’t want to give up his prize just yet.

He stood up, and gazed into Robby’s dreamy face once more. He took some of Robby’s own cum and smeared his lips and face with it.

“You love the smell and taste of cum now. Your own, and mine.”

“Love the smell and taste of cum….” the hypnotized jock said, completely unaware of the words flowing out of his mouth. His brain, however, absorbed Michael’s commands obediently, storing them in his subconscious. The salty taste, the stickiness of it, the slightly sweet aroma….new associations were being made in his innocent young brain just from Michael’s not-so-innocent suggestions...

Michael debated whether he should sample his other most longed after body part—Robby’s feet. He shook his head. He couldn’t do it, there was no time.

He was planning on freeing Robby at this point, but one glimpse down at his large sneakers made him think otherwise.

“Oh christ,” he said to himself, his cock throbbing once again. “I guess I’m really doing this. Please sit down on the grass.”

“Sit down...on grass,” Michael said. His back slid against the building as his knees bent, until he was sitting squarely on the grass, his long legs out, his hands stuffed in his pocket, his face still grinning as lights flashed in his eyes. His cock was still out, his balls resting on the grass now.

Michael stood over Robby. He held his face up and aimed the H Gun at him once more, forcing more hypnotic rays into Robby’s brain. Robby sighed happily, drool appearing down his grinning face, as he became even more spellbound.

“Submit to me.”

“Submit...to you..”

Michael smirked. He left his crush in that vulnerable position, then told Robby to raise his legs.

Robby did as he was told. He grabbed the back of his thighs, and hoisted long legs upwards, like a drawbridge going up, up and over his head and shoulders. He was still gazing upwards, stupidly now, his eyes still spinning with yellow-gold spirals of light.

His athletic body made him rather flexible, and the position he now found himself in did even more to rile up Michael’s lusts.

He stood above Robby, gazing down at his captive face, and let his hands touch the boy’s exposed sneakers. He pulled them off, one by one, inhaling their incredible scent, his own eyes rolling up from how aromatic they were. The feet of a real athlete—delicious and powerful.

Two socked feet hovered in midair now, thanks to Robby holding his legs up, with Robby still gazing upwards at Michael like some loyal hypnotized puppy. Both feet had steep, curvy outlines, with long lengths at the toe area; the socks themselves were damp with sweat.

Robby allowed himself to sample both socked feet, dropping the sneakers onto the grass. His nose clung to them, absorbing their fragrant, punchy scent, sometimes glimpsing down at Robby and his stupid hypnotized face, even more drool dripping down the jock’s chin, his mouth glistening with fresh cum.

“Get hard,” Michael said, as he nuzzled his nose against Robby’s socked toes, eliciting a soft moan from his own lips. His body tingled with pleasure.

As if on cue, Robby’s cock began to rise yet again, as if his body were truly enjoying his awkward position and complete dominance by his gay classmate.

Michael felt more ravenous, as if he were being driven mad by the rich smell of Robby’s amazing sneakers and delicious socks. He pulled a sock off at the toe, with his teeth alone, and the beautiful foot that was unveiled left him breathless.

Robby’s foot was gorgeously shaped, with smooth undersoles, and mouthwatering toes. Michael pulled the other sock off, then stuck both socks to his face, inhaling them like a gas mask, his cock throbbing with more greed, precum flying out of his hardened tool.

Both bare feet were incredible, but what made them even better was the clueless, dumbfounded face staring up from between them, oblivious to everything around him, even his own precarious position.

Michael began worshiping each raised foot. His tongue feverishly licked the arches, becoming more aware of how much time he had left; it was only a matter of time before someone walked by, and this particular position was too wild to go unnoticed. He had to hurry and his heart pumped faster, which in turn made him hornier and more aggressive.

He slobbered over each curvy heel, moaning to himself, his teeth gently digging into their flesh. He lapped up the godly arch of one foot, straight up to the toes, picking them apart with his wriggling tongue, partaking of their rich taste, sucking each toe as if each one was a sugary treat (though the taste was far from sweet). He did the same for the other foot, making sure he did not leave it out also, his cock going into overdrive by now, glossy streaks of saliva now coating Robby’s soft, velvety feet. He mashed both feet together, at the insteps, then licked up both soles, swirling his tongue in turn around each ball of the foot, enjoying everything from the taste, the sight, the tensed wrinkles on each foot.

He started worshipping both sets of toes at the same time next, his eyes rolling up, his tongue working overtime to give each set their due, his cock shooting precum all over the grass. Thank god no one discovered him yet, as things were still getting heated! His saliva was starting to drip down onto Robby’s hypnotized face, which made him feel even more hungry, his cock about to blow.

Finally, he yanked his tool out. It trembled violently as he gently approached Robby’s perfect feet with it. He gently bent his crush’s knees and maneuvered them into position for a very hungry footfuck. He smothered his tool with the jock boy’s feet, coating each sole with juice in the process, then proceeded to savagely fuck them.

“Oh jesus,” he moaned, rocking his hips against the perfect soles, his precum spilling onto the hypnotized jock’s face down below. Robby only grinned foolishly from down below, his face drooling and wet with cum and spit, looking up at his wobbling big feet without awareness as Michael’s juices dripped from his own soles above.

“Cum when you feel...ooh….when you feel my cum hit your feet!”

“Cum...when I feel….cum on my feet…” Robby said dreamily.

Michael rocked Robby’s feet even harder, grinding his cock against them as he held them tightly together, and took one last glimpse down at his biggest crush’s mesmerized face, so innocent, so hypnotized, so fucking hot. The tactile feel of the straight boy’s perfect soles crushing his cock finally brought Michael to the finish line. He groaned and his body seized and ropes of cum shot forth, spreading and splashing all over Robby’s pristine jock soles, smearing between his toes, and finally dripping down to the boy’s face like thick drops of rain.

Robby shuddered, his stupefied expression never faltering, even as his own cock blew up again. Cum shot straight up, hitting him in his face, and even landing on his own feet as well, leaving him covered in a perfect blend between his and Michael’s creamy jizz. And it was all done hands free.

The phone buzzed again.

“Fuck,” Michael said. He quickly cleaned the jock up as quickly as he could. He took great pleasure in placing his socks back on his cum-covered feet, even while still raised in the air. Then he placed Robby’s sneakers back on, tying the laces while Robby sat there like some used sex doll. He lowered Robby’s legs, then told him to stand up.

Michael changed one of the frequencies on the H Gun, and sent more spiralling waves into Robby’s brain.

“Take my phone number. You will answer me whenever I call you. You love cum. Your own, and mine, especially. Don’t forget that. And you love being my hypnotized pet, and obeying my every whim.”

“Love being your hypnotized pet,” Robby said, staring into the spiral light of the H gun as if he were being interviewed.

A few more words of guidance, and finally, the session was over, just as a group of rowdy students were passing by. They left the small space between buildings at the same time, but went in different directions.

Robby wandered back to his group of friends, looking slightly disheveled, hands still in his jacket pockets.

“God, there you are!” His girlfriend said. “Where the hell were you?”

“Told you. We were doing school stuff,” he said casually.

“Your food is cold now. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah. But I’m in the mood for something….different.” He spotted a glob of cum on his sleeve. He discreetly picked it up with his finger then promptly ate it, unnoticed by his peers. His lips curled into a pleasant smile. Whether it was his own, or Michael’s; whether it had come from his own feet or not, he couldn’t tell. But it definitely wouldn’t be the last time he had it. He wiggled his toes in his sneakers. He couldn’t wait to get back to his dorm and clean himself up...properly. He was already salivating just thinking about it.

#male hypnosis #male feet #gay hypnosis #hypnosis #kink #swim jock

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mstgay3000stories · 3 years

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Frat4Sale: The Principal’s Office

Another chapter in the Frat4Sale series. This was commissioned by Habernath. For more, see the pinned post on my profile. Thanks!

Philip Strickland was sick of his life. As the principal of Roosevelt High, life was a perpetual parade of stress, high blood pressure, and hair loss. He had been the principal for twenty years now, and retirement couldn’t come sooner enough. Nobody respected him, not the students, nor their parents, or even his staff.

Finding the Frat4Sale website was a dream come true. For a man that had no control in his life, the website’s promises were tantalizing.

After talking with Aaron through email, he decided he wanted to purchase a jock to play one of his students. He picked Kaleb. Despite being in college already, Kaleb was eighteen, technically still high school age. He definitely looked the part.

The boy was tall with an athletic build, and had sandy brown hair, blue eyes, and succulent, full lips. A few strands of hair were draped over his forehead in all his pictures, and combined with his big smile and boxy jaw, made him look like a classic All-American jock. Philip was smitten as soon as he saw the pictures. Kaleb looked like every punk jock at Roosevelt rolled into one, minus the rolling eyes and sneers, and would be the perfect candidate for what he had in mind.

His idea was to have Kaleb walk into his office as one of his annoying, bratty students. Kaleb would treat the principal the same way as the rest of his miserable students usually did, but there would be a major difference.

Kaleb would be unable to control himself whenever Philip ushered a command to him, no matter how outrageous.

Payment was made and dates were arranged, and Philip carried on as usual until Kaleb’s arrival the following week.

Wednesday was just another grating day at Roosevelt. Philip felt like he lost another few hairs as he endured the usual rounds of teenage non-compliance and surly staff members.

School was over, but he still had a few more hours left on the clock. He slumped into his chair at his desk, too tired to even look at the endless stacks of paperwork on it. Then, he heard a knock at his door.

“Come in,” he said wearily, taking a sip of the alcohol he kept in his “special” coffee thermos.

He spit his drink out and almost fell off his seat when Kaleb entered. How could he have forgotten his appointment was today? The tall stud was wearing a Roosevelt varsity jacket, in blue and marigold, fitted jeans, and chucks. A backpack was slung over one of his broad shoulders. Kaleb looked even better in person than he did in his pictures, and seemed like he had walked right out of his imagination. The sight of him instantly roused his spirits, as well as his cock.

Kaleb, on the other hand, was less enthused. He glanced at Philip with a disinterested expression, while Philip gawked at him for so long he had to cover his mouth.

“I’m here for detention, Strickland,” Kaleb said.

“Detention, yes….yes! Oh god, yes,” Philip said.

An awkward silence passed between them. Kaleb sighed impatiently.

“So, are you gonna let me go now or what? I got shit to do today, Strickland.”

Philip’s awe faded from his face. For a moment, he had forgotten Kaleb was even under his control as he was so used to being talked down to.

“What do you mean ‘am I going to excuse you now?’ Why would I do that?”

“Uh, because you always do? We both know this detention stuff is bullshit and we all know you can’t do jackshit to me because I’m the star of the football team. Or do you wanna deal with my pops instead?” Kaleb smiled smugly and raised his chin as if he were untouchable.

Philip steepled his fingers, smiling himself. That Aaron was good. Kaleb really knew how to press his buttons, just as he had requested. Perhaps young Aaron really was psychic, as he claimed.

Philip usually did go light on his star athletes when it came to disciplinary action. It earned him a weak reputation with the students, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with their even worse parents.

Not today.

He not only felt amused by Kaleb’s attitude, he felt turned on. The poor boy looked as if he truly believed he had all the cards, as if he could boss Philip around like everybody else did. It was his fantasy to finally be the one in charge, and it was only just beginning.

“Actually Kaleb, I think you better have a seat.”

“What the—”

Kaleb’s blue eyes widened as he found himself being forced to have a seat in front of Philip’s desk, his backpack falling to the floor.

“What the fuck?” He looked at his legs as if they were possessed. “How’d you do that?”

Philip admired the wild, confused look in Kaleb’s pretty blue eyes. He had always fantasized what the jocks at Roosevelt would look like if he could control them like this. It was deeply satisfying to see it in person.

“First thing’s first. From now on, you will address me as ‘sir’. None of this ‘Strickland’ nonsense.”

“Okay sir, but—” Kaleb covered his mouth. He didn’t even try to call Philip ‘sir’, the words just slipped out, shocking him. Despite the fact he was actually in college and never stepped foot in Roosevelt before, Kaleb, due to Aaron’s meddling, genuinely believed he was an arrogant high school jock. The fear he felt was authentic, and it showed on his face.

Philip loved every detail of it.

“Sir. I like that sound of that. Is it too much to ask to have one of these little shits address me as ‘sir’ every now and then? These kids got no respect.”

“Sir?” Kaleb said, his voice cracking.

Philip locked his office door then sat at the edge of his desk, ogling at his captive jock. He relished in the frightened look on the boy’s face, as well as how taut his body looked in the white cotton shirt he wore beneath his jacket. He loved the bulge between his jeans, the leanness of his athletic legs, and more importantly, his huge feet in red chucks. The boy was a teenage dream, and he was all his.

At least, for the next couple hours or so.

“Why don’t you make yourself a little more comfortable by taking your jacket off for me, Kaleb?”

“But sir, I— “

“Now!” Philip slammed his hand on his desk. He wasn’t usually so aggressive, but his newfound powers made him feel bold.

Kaleb yelped as he removed his jacket against his will.

“There. That’s better, isn’t it?”

“Please, sir, I just want to go home. I’ll do detention, even clean the school and do some more volunteer work, I swear, just….let me go home, please.” Kaleb looked like he was going to cry. Philip loved it.

“Oh, now you want to go home? I thought you had ‘shit to do’?”

Kaleb whimpered.

“I got some ‘shit’ you can get started on right now. Take that shirt off, Kaleb.”

“B-but I’ll be shirtless, sir.”

“So what? Get it off, now!”

Kaleb swore as he took the shirt off his torso, his hands moving with a mind of their own. Philip was stunned for a moment. The boy’s muscled, hairless torso was astounding. His chest was broad and toned, and his nipples looked particularly inviting.

Kaleb whined. “Why the hell is this happening? What’s wrong with me?”

“Why don’t you shut up, and maybe I’ll explain it to you?”

Kaleb’s pouty lips sealed themselves. He touched his mouth and tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn’t open. For Philip, it felt amazingly good to finally have one of his students shut their mouths for a change.

“Allow me to explain what’s going on here, my dear boy. While you and the rest of these little rodents at Roosevelt don’t know a thing about respect, your body does. It can’t help itself. Your body recognizes me as someone worthy of respect, worthy of being listened to. And by the end of detention, you will too. Now, on your feet, you arrogant jock prick.”

Kaleb stood, and stared at Philip with frightened eyes. Philip felt incredibly turned on, and it was time to act on it.

“Kiss me boy, like I’m the hottest girl at homecoming,” Philip said with a grin.

“No fucking way, are you joking? Whoa...whoa!” Despite his protests, a force gripped Kaleb and made his body take hold of the principal. He wanted to strangle the balding man, but instead, began to passionately make out with him, his hands groping Philip’s body as if he were some teenage girl, moaning and mumbling in revulsion. Philip moaned too, but with pleasure, his cock throbbing intensely as he tasted the boy’s mouth, his tongue dueling with his. He hadn’t been kissed in years, and the sensations flowing through his mouth were riveting. He had forgotten how good it felt to make out with someone, and what a treat that it was with someone as hot as Kaleb!

He pulled at Kaleb’s lips with teeth, causing his eyes to water, and yet Kaleb wouldn’t relent; he continued to pursue the principal like some horny teenager without restraint, no matter how he felt about it.

They kissed longer until Philip clutched the back of Kaleb’s brown hair and tore him away from his face. Kaleb let out a cry.

“Not bad, boy. How’s it feel to kiss up to the teacher, eh?”

“Please, sir, let me go!”

Philip laughed, as his fingers tightened their hold on Kaleb’s hair, causing him to yelp in pain. Philip didn’t hate the boy. He was innocent, of course. But there was something so satisfying, so gratifying, about finally being able to toy with a jock as good looking as him. He felt vindicated, as if he were getting back at all those asshole teens he had dealt with over the years, with Kaleb’s sexy body as the target of his frustrations.

He shoved the boy away and made him sit down again. Kaleb whimpered and looked teary eyed as he tried to recover, his mouth pink and his cheeks red.

“Now you just sit there like a good boy, while I have a little fun with this amazing chest.”

“Please sir, I just want to—”

“Did I say you could talk, boy? No talking during detention….or while I sample your sexy body. You got a lot to learn about when it comes to respect, kid.”

Kaleb’s lips sealed shut once again and he mumbled nervously. At that moment, someone knocked on his door, asking if Philip had signed some papers.

“Yes, I’ll get to it, leave me alone,” Philip said. Kaleb tried to mumble louder in an effort to call for help, but the employee had already disappeared from the door.

“Close one,” Philip said, stroking Kaleb’s face affectionately. Philip pulled his face away from his touch.

The principal fell to his knees, right between Kaleb’s thighs, and took hold of his bare torso. He smiled wickedly at the helpless boy who could only return his stare with anxious blue eyes. His fingers climbed up the boy’s midsection then prodded the boy’s nipples.

Then, he shamelessly licked them. Kaleb shut his eyes and let out a muffled groan as he felt the principal’s tongue turn his pecs hard, one after the other.

He flinched and turned his head as he felt Philip’s hands sneak into his armpits, prodding them. Kaleb couldn’t hide the revulsion on his face, and his lips quivered, a reaction that Philip loved. He wanted to see that jock prick squirm!

Philip brought his fingers to his nose, sniffing the boy’s scent, and let out a dreamy sigh. Kaleb even smelled like the jocks he dealt with everyday. He couldn’t get over how perfect Aaron had made him.

“Oh, you like when I do that, don’t you? You like when I make your nipples hard, and when I invade your pits, don’t you boy?”

Kaleb whimpered then shook his head rapidly, his eyes shut tightly.

“If you liked that, then I know you’ll love this.”

Philip kept his eyes on Kaleb’s perfect pretty boy visage as he daringly bit one of the nipples. Kaleb flung his head back against the seat and made a muffled moan. Philip did the same to the other one. He chewed on the skin around the boy’s nips, and when he was done, he made love bites all across his chest until it was a rosy pink. Kaleb’s fingers bore into the chair and his toes clenched in his shoes. He moaned miserably, his lips still sealed due to Aaron’s programming. Nobody from outside could hear him. Philip loved feeling Kaleb squirm under his weight, his big feet sliding anxiously against the ground as he had his way with his chest.

Philip snuck his tongue into Kaleb’s pits, licking the sensitive spots and causing him to squirm even more. Kaleb groaned pitifully, his knees jerking as he felt Philip lap inside his armpits.

“Delicious,” Philip said, wiping his mouth. “Don’t give me that look, Kaleb. This could have all been avoided if you had given me the proper respect from the get-go. But pricks like you don’t have any, and I’m going to teach it to you. We’ll start your lessons with oh, say, this area over here. How does that sound?”

He playfully pointed at Kaleb’s bulge and the boy started crying. Philip laughed. Unlike Kaleb, he was thrilled! How many times had he cried at night, drunk in his own room, due to the daily BS of being a high school principal? To see one of those brutish jocks cry made him giddy.

He continued his escapade by licking Kaleb’s skin all the way down to his abs. He even bit the juicy six pack there, causing Kaleb to groan. Every muscle felt so taut in his mouth, so bouncy between his teeth, and the skin was delicious. He even bit at the boy’s belly button, playfully tugging at it, which, of course, did not sit well with the captive jock. He licked the boy’s skin all around his stomach area like some horny lizard, before continuing his descent to his desired destination—Kaleb’s crotch.

He unzipped his fly, and felt the boy twitch. “Stay still, Kaleb. Or do you want to stay in detention even longer?”

Kaleb whimpered and his body calmed. He was horrified as he felt the principal’s fingers open his fly, then touch the large mound in his boxer briefs. He couldn’t even look.

Philip, on the other hand, was excited. He slipped the underwear off and was delighted to see a huge eight inch schlong spill out, equipped with a thick foreskin, and two large balls beneath.

“A-plus, my boy,” Philip said, laughing at Kaleb’s pathetic whimpers. He started stroking the long cock, and immediately felt it warm up to his touch. Teenagers these days. So horny!

He stroked until it became a plump and juicy rod of beef. His other hand played with the big testicles beneath, groping and prodding them playfully, while Kaleb sobbed quietly. He took the dick and teased the tip with his tongue, his eyes resting on Kaleb’s pretty face and daring him to do something about it.

All he could do was sob. Philip shut his eyes as he devoured the succulent meat, causing Kaleb to fling his head back once more as unwanted pleasure filled his senses. Philip’s head buoyed up and down, loving the taste of real teen cock, while his fingers greedily squeezed the boy’s testicles, intensifying the experience. He tasted a few drops of precum, and after sucking for several more moments, felt Kaleb’s dick throb harder and longer before it shot its creamy load into the back of his throat.

He devoured every drop as if he were starving for the stuff, moaning the entire time. Authentic jock boy jizz. It certainly beat anything in the school cafeteria!

He wiped his mouth. “Excellent job. Your body knows how to serve its master. Now, get the rest of your clothes off. Get to it, boy, stop dilly dallying about the place.”

Kaleb barely had time to recover from his experience as his hands immediately started taking his socks and shoes off. He slipped out his jeans and underwear and became fully naked. Philip forced him to sit down again.

He grinned with satisfaction as he gazed at Kaleb’s feet. They were so big, with deep arches, and the toes—Philip felt his mouth water just looking at them.

Kaleb whimpered as Philip approached his feet. What would the principal do next? Philip made eye contact with the captive jock as he held a limp foot to his face, smiling triumphantly. He finally had one of those annoying jock’s feet all to himself! It was about time. Kaleb tried to muster enough control to kick the principal away, but his body was paralyzed by Aaron’s conditioning.

He felt his skin crawl as the principal began kissing his toes. He was disgusted as he felt his tongue reach out and lap beneath the sole, while Philip moaned weakly. Philip switched feet. He did the same to that one, teasing the toes with his tongue, lapping delicately at the ball of his foot, as if he were tenderizing each foot. He took long strides with his tongue between the boy’s soles, reveling in the taste. So this was what a jock’s feet tasted like! He loved everything about them, from the shape, to the smell, to the softness of the skin.

The boy’s feet drove the principal mad. He loved how they tasted, and now it was time to feast on his favorite part. He held both feet together and began sucking on the toes voraciously. Kaleb shut his eyes and made muffled cries as Philip used his tongue to pry the boy’s toes apart. He sucked on each one individually, loving the twisted look on Kaleb’s face as he did so, taking great pleasure in finally enjoying the taste of a jock’s toes. They tasted far better than anything his daytime reveries could come up with. He gently gnawed at Kaleb’s digits, his lips pulling at them, his tongue swirling around them, moaning as he savored the taste of every single one. The salty, vinegar like scent and taste made him feel dizzy. Everything about Kaleb’s body was so gratifying, so fulfilling. Unsurprisingly, Kaleb did not share the same sentiment.

Philip’s cock was rock hard and leaking through his dress slacks. He felt a little embarrassed to be such a mess. A boy’s toes could always do that to him. His dick was raring to go, however, and he knew just the place to put it.

He rose to his feet and wiped his mouth. Kaleb looked up at him with scared blue eyes, his lips sucked in tightly in nervousness, his toes wet with saliva.

“It’s time for your body to show the ultimate sign of respect. Time for you to give me a token of your deference. Please rise.”

Kaleb stood, despite himself, and tried to beg the principal to be released, but his mouth was still sealed.

Philip circled the boy and eyed his delicious, naked body. He loved the boy’s ass especially. It was so curvy and spherical, with just a faint little farmer’s tan on it.

“Bend over.”

Kaleb mumbled as his body bent itself over, leaning on Phil’s desk, exposing his tight, supple butt. He knew where things were going, and was horrified that he was helpless to stop any of it.

Philip faced the boy’s delicious rear and brought his face near it. His nose filled with the boy’s natural musk, which sent shivers throughout his body. His fingers clutched Kaleb’s ass, and squeezed the fat and muscle there, so perfectly juicy, like some tender roast. Kaleb made desperate, tearful sobs as he felt his ass get manhandled.

Philip came face to face with the boy’s tender, unused crack. He smiled. His tongue came out, and Kaleb shuddered once he felt the principal’s tongue make contact. Philip moaned in bliss as he finally got to taste authentic jock ass! It was spectacular. Philip loved how Kaleb’s body squirmed from his licks, which made him rim the boy even harder, provoking Kaleb further. He knew he couldn’t do anything about it, and he loved the feeling of having so much power. It was about time. No wonder everyone loved picking on a helpless clod like himself. It was quite a rush!

He became consumed with the boy’s taste. His tongue became more voracious, and eventually journeyed inside Kaleb’s tight little cherry. The boy’s body tensed, and more tears fell down his face as he felt the principal tongue him. Philip couldn’t get over how amazing the boy tasted. His body was hungry from more.

Once he had made the boy nice and wet, he pulled out and gave his fingers a turn. Kaleb hunched over the desk, his body writhing as he felt the principal explore the insides of his ass. Philip loved how the tight, throbbing insides felt on his fingers. He became more aggressive, finger fucking the boy harder. He wasn’t just finger fucking Kaleb; he was finger fucking all of those smarmy jock pricks that passed him in the hall, every single day, all of them laughing and talking about him behind his back. He felt himself get a little carried away with his forcefulness, but he didn’t care.

“Do you like this Kaleb? Do you love how this feels? This is how I feel everyday, when you fucks spit and curse at me.”

Kaleb quietly sobbed as his hole expanded from Philip’s forceful gestures. He was enjoying himself so much that he didn’t notice that his own cock was ready to blow, and now it was time for release.

He took out his cock then spit on it, getting it nice and ready. He had a big smile on his face as he gripped Kaleb’s body.

“Time to give you what you deserve, Kaleb. This’ll teach you and all those other shits at Roosevelt to look down on me!”

Kaleb squealed as he felt the principal enter him. Philip moaned, his eyes rolling up as he felt his cock enter the boy’s tight hole. He felt like he was on a cloud. His body filled with endorphins and a drunken smile appeared on his lips. He fucked Kaleb harder, picking up the pace the closer he got to orgasm, and Kaleb endured all of it with tears and muffled cries, the desk shaking beneath his muscular weight.

Philip shut his eyes and grit his teeth, his balls slapping across the tasty jock’s ass. In his mind, he could see the face of every awful student, every awful parent, every awful employee on his staff, while he fucked the boy harder and harder, turning Kaleb into a whimpering mess in the meantime. Philip was giving it not only to the jock’s asshole, but to every single asshole that made his life a living hell.

He cried out as he finally came, causing his knees to buckle, his splooge shooting right into the boy’s fresh insides.

He pulled out, stumbling backwards and falling into the chair in front of his desk, jizz spilling out of Kaleb’s hole. They were both sweaty, and Kaleb was trembling where he stood. Philip laughed as he noticed that Kaleb had actually cum all over his desk against his will. He had fucked the poor boy so hard that he made him orgasm too! He felt proud of himself. To think he could fuck a jock so hard he’d blow his own load….now that was some real power.

He checked the clock on his wall. There was still time left. He smiled and prepared to make use of it. Wasting time was something he, as a principal, always frowned upon.

He made Kaleb return to him and clean his dick with his tongue. He loved how the boy gagged from it, as he was sure the taste of ass and jizz was not something he was accustomed to. Oh well! Kids were so spoiled these days.

He bent the boy over his knee and spanked him relentlessly, loving how his ass turned red under his hand. The jock was in tears.

“There, there, boy. No need to cry. This was for your own good. Come sit on my lap, and I’ll make it all better,” Philip said with a vicious grin.

Of course, ‘sitting on his lap’ meant the big jock was forced to ride the principal while he sat in his office chair. Philip reached up and forced the boy to kiss him as his big beautiful ass bounced on his cock, the chair squeaking beneath them, both of them moaning but for different reasons. Philip even managed to lick the salty tears right off the boy’s face as they kissed. Delectable!

He made Kaleb worship his feet, as another sign of respect, truly teaching the boy what it meant to “look up” to his elders. Even better, the boy’s worshipping technique felt amazing on his toes and soles.

Getting his feet worshipped had made him hard again, so he decided to get a blowjob from the captive stud….but also do some paperwork as well. Efficiency was one of his favorite virtues. He had Kaleb suck on his dick under his desk, while he signed some papers, and even made a couple phone calls. People instantly noticed his much happier tone on the phone, though no one could imagine there was a blue eyed jock under the desk, his cheeks bulging with the principal’s cock!

“Is there something going on there, Strickland? You sound so relaxed today. You going on vacation early?” said one of the administrators on the phone.

Phil shut his eyes, and let out a strained laugh, as he blew his load right at that moment into Kaleb’s mouth. The jock gagged as he was forced to swallow all of it, his muffled cries registering as background noise on the phone.

“In a m-manner of speaking… I’ll call you back later!” Philip said.

Lastly, Philip topped the jock once more, one for the road. It was symbolic, and in many ways, a final victory. He made Kaleb lie on his back and bounced on his dick, forcing the jock to another orgasm, and revelling in the fact that he was finally “on top” of all those jock pricks at his school, both metaphorically and literally.

When he got off, the clock struck four, and Philip was surprised to see Kaleb start putting his clothes back on.

“Excuse me? Hey! Did I say you could put your clothes on, boy? Sit back down, right now!”

But Kaleb ignored him. Philip put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, but he shoved him off, causing him to fall backwards and hit the trash can. When the boy was dressed, he grabbed his backpack, and left without saying a word.

“Close the door!” Philip scrambled to his feet and closed the door, locking it again. He couldn’t let anyone see him or his office in this state. The place smelled like sex and was a mess.

He sank to the floor and sighed. He looked at the time. His session was indeed over. The phone started ringing again, and he knew it was from some surly parent that was returning his messages. He pulled the phone cord out. He gathered his stuff, re-did his tie, then grabbed his briefcase, then headed out. He locked the door behind him.

Tomorrow would probably be hell again. But today, thanks to Aaron and Frat4Sale, it was heaven. He walked past several staff members that tried to get his attention, but didn’t give them the time of day. He ignored the kids spraying the lockers with paint in the hall. He walked past the punks under the stairs, and surprised them when he said nothing.

No one was going to ruin the rest of his day. It was perfect just as it was. He went to his car and drove home, with Kaleb’s socks in his briefcase, a final reminder of what it was like to finally get the respect he deserved.

#male hypnosis #malefeet #gay hypnosis #hypnosis #brainwashed #hypnotized #jock #jockbro #humiliation #fratboy

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mstgay3000stories · 4 years

Text

Links and Stuff

Where to find me:

https://my.bio/mstgay3000

#adultpatreon #gay feet #thegayspiral #nsfwpatreon #mstgay3000

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mstgay3000stories · 4 years

Photo

😍

Callum Kerr gets hypnotized by his friend a couple of times without his knowledge.

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mstgay3000stories · 4 years

Text

Antonio dialed the wrong number when he tried to FaceTime his friend.

Now his mind is gone and his body is ready...

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mstgay3000stories · 4 years

Text

Paused

A couple of friends get together to play some video games, but one of them has an upper hand...

For more stories: https://my.bio/mstgay3000

“Aw you cheating son of a bitch,” Leon said, his fingers rapidly hitting the buttons on his controller. Mason laughed.

“You need to get on my level bruh,” Mason said.

“How do you even know all these tricks? You know what? Forget it. This ends now.”

“Let’s go, bro, I’m ready for ya,” Mason said.

They continued to play and talk smack, thoroughly enjoying themselves. Mason was definitely a lot better than Leon thought. After being defeated again, he steered the conversation in another direction.

“Hey, I gotta ask you something,” Leon said, his fingers hitting the buttons on his controller.

“What is it?”

“You know that hypnosis show they had at school last week?”

“Yeah, I was on it, remember?” Mason said.

“I know, I can’t believe you agreed to go on stage.”

“It wasn’t the first time I’ve done something like that. It was fun.”

Mason gloated as he took another game, causing Leon to curse. They continued to play and talk at the same time.

“I gotta ask you, Mason, what was it like being hypnotized?”

“You know what? I honestly don’t remember. I felt so relaxed and refreshed after it though,” Mason said. Leon almost took a round, but Mason made a clutch play.

“Hell yeah! Take that, bro.” He socked Leon playfully on his shoulder.

The next round started.

“You don’t remember anything at all?” Leon said.

“Nope. I saw the video on YouTube too. It was so crazy seeing me do all that stuff, just like the last time I was under.”

“Yeah, you were over there taking off your shirt, cryin’ like a baby, acting like a stripper. I know the girls were goin’ wild for that.”

“Oh, you don’t even know. My phone was blowing up. Not that I didn’t mind the attention or anything.”

“Of course, bro. Girls love that shirtless stuff.” Leon said.

“I got a few chicks’ numbers that I never had after that, so it was totally worth it,” Mason said. “Just wish I could remember at least some of it. I guess that’s the thing about hypnosis. I don’t remember jack shit.”

“Do you think you might still be hypnotized?”

“Nah. The hypnotist dude did some sort of unwinding exercise with us afterwards, made sure to clear us of any those triggers or whatever. We were all good after that.”

Another match ended, with Mason the victor again. Leon sighed in defeat. Mason really was good.

“Okay, hear me out, Mason.”

“What?”

“This might sound strange, but I think you might still be hypnotized.”

Mason laughed. “What are you talkin’ about bro? You trying to throw me off my game?”

“No, I’m just sayin’. I don’t think that hypnotist de-conditioned you properly.”

“Get outta here, bro. I’m not hypnotized at all.”

“I’m serious. I heard that hypnotist guy was a real quack. I read how some former clients said they still bark like a dog when people clap their hands, there was an article or something about it online.”

“Oh no way. You’re scaring me bro.”

“I heard Betsy Muro’s mom wanted to sue that hypnotist dude. She bursts into song every time someone says the word ‘peanut butter’,” Leon said.

“You for real?”

“Yeah. I’m telling you, you might still be hypnotized bro, and you should get it checked out.”

“That sounds scary, but I’m totally fine, bro. I haven’t acted out or anything since the show. I’ve hung out with a bunch of people since then, and nobody’s said a thing.”

“You know how I know you’re still hypnotized?” Leon said.

“How?”

Leon put his fingers in front of Mason’s eyes and snapped. “Pause,” he said.

At the same time, Leon paused the game on their screen… and Mason paused too, a look of disbelief on his face. He was frozen, as still as a statue. Leon waved his hand in front of Mason’s eyes, which didn’t blink, and there was no signal there. Leon couldn’t believe how still Mason had become; it was breathtaking. He was a living statue.

“Unpause,” Leon said, unpausing the game and returning to playing.

“Did you seriously just try a trigger phrase on me?” Mason said.

“Just checking. I heard that was a trigger for you guys, and that if you were still hypnotized, it would cause you to freeze up like a statue. But it looks like it doesn’t work so you’re good.”

“I told you—”

“Pause,” Leon said, snapping his fingers again.

This time Mason was paused with a triumphant smile on his face, mid sentence, and Leon immediately felt his dick harden. He couldn’t believe how attractive Mason was, frozen like that, vulnerable and still, and smiling so handsomely at the television.

In truth, the hypnotist that worked the Dale River high show a week ago was no quack at all—he was a master hypnotist, and Leon was his apprentice. In fact, Leon had used his own formidable powers of hypnosis to convince his parents to leave, allowing him the perfect opportunity to invite the popular teenage dream over.

Leon was even there backstage at the hypnotist show. His master had implanted his very own trigger phrases into Mason, and then transferred control to him, and only him. It was a going away gift before finishing school, one that Leon was truly appreciative of.

And now, Mason was his.

“Listen to me Mason. Stay in trance. In fact, keep going into trance with every breath you take. From now on, you will pause like this whenever I pause the game. You will do whatever I tell you to do in this state, and when I unpause the game, you will return to normal, as if nothing happened. Nod your head if you understand.”

Mason slowly nodded his smiling unblinking head twice, and Leon felt his dick throb again.

He unpaused the game.

“--that I wasn’t hypnotized, bruh.”

“Yeah, it was dumb of me to think that. Guess I was being paranoid.”

“You should be focusing on the game, I’m kicking your ass all over the place here.”

Leon chuckled, then paused the game and Mason instantly froze up again.

“Stay in trance Mason, good boy. Going deeper and deeper with every breath, just like I said.“ Leon took the controller out of Mason’s hands. It easily slipped out of his fingers, which were still rigid. He waved his hand in front of Mason’s frozen gaze again, and grinned at the non reaction.

“When I unpause the game, you’re going to feel the urge to take off your socks and shoes. It will grow more and more as we play. I’m also gonna be snapping my fingers. You won’t notice me snapping, but you will hear it, and each time you do, the urge to be barefoot will grow stronger and stronger, until you just have to ask me to take ‘em off, no matter how weird it is.”

When Leon was sure his commands were inside Mason’s pretty frozen head, he unpaused the game.

They started another round, and as they played, Leon noticed Mason shuffling his feet around. He grinned, knowing full well that his commands were taking root. They played their game normally, but Leon snapped his fingers from time to time.

“Man…” Mason said, his eyes narrowing as they focused on the television.

“Something wrong?”

“Uh, nothing. Damn, you almost beat me that time.” Mason sat back in his chair and took a break from playing. Leon noticed he looked nervous. He rubbed one foot with the other.

“You sure you’re okay, bro?” Leon said. Leon snapped his fingers several more times.

There was a moment of silence as Mason seemed to mull something over. Leon could tell Mason was having difficulty asking such a weird, out of character request. He couldn’t wait to hear him say it.

“No, let’s just, uh keep playing, yeah?”

“Sure,” Leon said. They resumed their game, but Leon snapped a few more times. He noticed Mason looked even more agitated, his feet moving around even more as they played, and he snapped his fingers again and again.

“Ah,” Mason said, putting the controller down between rounds.

“Bro, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“Okay. This is gonna sound kinda weird.”

Leon grinned.

“Out with it.”

“Okay. Uh, can I please…”

Leon snapped his fingers again.

“Yeah?”

“Can I please, uh…”

Leon snapped his fingers again, and again. He could tell the urge to be barefoot was unbearable for Mason. He even looked like he was sweating.

After another series of snaps, Mason finally burst out.

“Ah fuck, can I please take off my socks and shoes?”

Leon laughed.

“Whoa, bro. That’s kinda a weird thing to ask.”

“Sorry, it’s just—” Leon snapped again, “--please! I have to. I know it’s weird, but please.”

Leon snapped several more times, and Mason shut his eyes and whined, rubbing his feet together over and over. Leon loved watching him squirm.

“Okay. Sure thing.”

“Oh god, thank you soooo much bro.” Mason said with a dramatic sigh of relief.

Leon watched intently as Mason untied the laces on his boots, then slid them off. He removed his socks, placing them inside his boots neatly. Leon covered his fully tented crotch with a couch cushion as he watched the show. Mason’s feet were impeccable, and he couldn’t believe he was barefoot, in jeans, in his own house.

“That’s better. Now I can focus on kicking your ass again,” Mason said, looking much relieved.

Leon paused the game.

Mason froze in place, the same relieved smile on his face, his hands on his controller, while Leon was drawn to those perfect bare feet below.

“Stay frozen Mason. Keep going in trance, just like I told you earlier.”

Leon fell to the ground and his eyes widened at Mason’s soles. His toes were perfect, and the smell coming from them was delicious: a natural aroma that had his dick salivating. He immediately began to worship the boy’s feet, his dick throbbing even harder from how unresistant Mason was, and also from the sweet taste of his soles. He devoured Mason’s feet like a grateful hound that had been thrown a bone from the dinner table.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Leon said. “Damn you got some sexy ass feet, Mason.”

He glanced up, and Mason was still paralyzed in that same frozen smile, unaware of the worshipping occuring at his heels. Leon almost came right there.

Before he could blow his load, he grabbed Mason’s boots and took a big whiff of each one, enjoying their rich, heady, leathery scent.

“Fuckin’ awesome.”

Leon was exploding with teenage hormones, and could barely contain his dick any longer, so he took the opportunity to rub his dick all over Mason’s limp feet. He moaned as he felt his dick harden even more from the overwhelming pleasure. The soles felt so soft against his cock, and he brushed his shaft with his toes. Mason remained utterly still and smiling the entire time, while his feet were unknowingly used to pleasure Leon even more.

“Oh shit!” Leon said.

The horny teen boy blew his load all over his friend’s soles, while Mason was still stuck in the same frozen expression.

Leon breathed heavily after he was done. He had never done anything like that before. Mason’s feet looked even more tantalizing, having been decorated with cum, and they smelled even better. It was better than he could have ever fantasized about.

“Damn that was good,” Leon said, sitting on the couch again. While he already spent one load, he had another idea he wanted to play with.

“Alright, listen up Mason. Same deal as last time, but instead of feeling the urge to bring your feet out (which were fuckin’ amazing, by the way), you are now going to feel the urge to bring your dick out. It will work just like before with the feet thing. I will snap my fingers, you won’t notice me doing it, but every time you hear it anyways, the urge to whip your dick out is gonna grow stronger and stronger until you have to ask me to do it, no matter what. Also, you will take no notice of the cum on your feet either.”

Mason was silent, but Leon knew that by now his words were law. Mason had been such a good little hypnotized subject the entire time, and if there were any inkling that he wasn’t under trance, he certainly didn’t show it. Leon’s master did say that Mason was incredibly receptive to hypnosis, which only made things better for Leon.

Leon put his spent cock back into his shorts, and unpaused the game. Mason returned to life as if nothing happened.

“Come on, bro, too easy,” Mason said. Leon laughed, more than a polite chuckle; in many ways, the fact that Mason was so oblivious to everything was hilarious. The dude had cum on his feet! They played their game together for a few more minutes, and Leon, once again, anticipated another reaction as Mason’s new hypnotic urges took root.

The same nervous look overcame him again, and this time, Leon noticed him shifting his weight in his seat. He snapped his fingers three times in a row, and Leon took a sharp inhale. Mason placed a foot on his knee nervously (allowing Leon a view of his cum covered sole; he could even smell it). Leon loved how oblivious Mason was.

“You seem quiet,” Leon said, letting his eyes linger on that perfect, desecrated sole, which was bouncing nervously. He snapped his fingers once.

“Yeah… um…”

Leon snapped his fingers again, which seemed to hit Leon like a slap in the face.

“Uh, yeah, I’m okay. Just feelin’ kinda weird again… that’s all…”

Leon loved the tense look on Mason’s face as he tried miserably to continue their game. He snapped his fingers again.

“Uh oh,” Leon said, “don’t tell me you want to take something else off next.”

“Actually…”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

Leon snapped his fingers again, faster and faster, and Mason winced.

“Actually bro, this is gonna sound even weirder, but I gotta get it out. Can I… take my dick out?”

Leon tried to hold back a smile.

“What, do I look gay to you?”

“No, man, I’m sorry, I’m not trying to do anything like that, but—”

Leon snapped his fingers rapidly.

“Ah, fuck, please bro, just let me take my dick out! God, I’m so sorry, but I can’t fuckin’ stand it.”

Leon chuckled to himself. Mason wouldn’t even make eye contact with him, he was so embarrassed.

“Fine. Go ahead and take your dick out.”

“Oh god, this is the last time. I apologize. I’m usually not like this, I swear!”

Just like before, Leon watched intently as his friend unzipped himself, as if the act weren’t completely taboo at all. Leon was floored when Mason let out a huge dick from his jeans. It flopped onto his thigh like some dead animal. Leon’s eyes were glued to it.

“Okay, that’s better. No more distractions. Thanks so much, Leon. You’re the best.”

Leon barely gave Mason time to relax before pausing the game, and pausing him at the same time.

He dove in on Mason’s cock like a careful hawk, eyeing it first, wondering if it was even real. Mason was incapacitated, staring at the screen again like a blinkless dummy. Leon reached out for Mason’s cock, his very first as well, and it was spectacular.

He started stroking it, and as it came to life, he felt his own dick coming for a round two. Before long, there were two throbbing, veiny dicks on the couch (though one of them was far bigger than the other). Mason didn’t react at all, though his cock certainly did.

Leon swooped in on the fat cock and sucked it off. The taste of raw dick was electrifying, and he ate it hungrily. Mason, true to Leon’s hypnotic command to stay frozen during a paused game, was completely still, despite his dick raging inside of Leon’s face. Leon moaned happily. He squeaked when Mason shot precum into his mouth, surprised by its taste, and then a little later, it was followed by a full load of healthy teen jizz. Leon drank every last drop like a man dying of dehydration. His first blowjob, and it was with the most popular guy in school—and he was straight!

When he was done, he sat back up and wiped his mouth. Mason remained in pristine condition—sans, of course, the cum on his feet, and his recently plundered cock.

Leon unpaused the game, and Mason returned to life.

“Alright, let’s get another round. Who knows, maybe you’ll beat me this time even? Doubt it though,” Mason socked Leon’s shoulder playfully again. His tongue touched his upper lip as he concentrated on the television again, completely unaware that it was Leon that had already beaten him—literally.

“Oh, I think I’ll definitely beat you. Again,” Leon said ominously.

“When did you beat me the first time?”

Leon took a turn for once to be quiet for once, and merely grinned.

Mason ended up spending the whole day there, though he had only intended to spend an hour. When he left, Leon even kept his socks, which he pressed to his nose as he watched Mason leave, like a lover’s memento. His master’s gift far exceeded his expectations, and even better, he knew that Mason would be back for more—because he had commanded him to come back. If this is what being a hypnotist was going to be like for him, he had a lot to look forward to.

#male hypnosis #male freeze #malefeet #gayfeet #mstgay3000 #gayfreeze

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