Message-ID: <12737eli$9807051832@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "Dream Spinner" X-Good-Line-Length: yes Subject: At Their Mercy - 02 (m/b/b, Mind Control) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Content-Type: text/plain Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19980703223544.17270.qmail@hotmail.com> Warning [or welcome :-)]. This is part 2 of a story about a 44 year old guy who is made to do stuff by a 11 year old boy. In part 1 he told how a bunch of us got control of his mind and made him pee and poop himself and stuff. He was made to write what we done to him and the story was given to a guy who knows how to put it on a news group. Readers were asked to write ideas what else could be done to him. If you got more ideas after you read this part then e-mail them and the guy who posted this will pass them on to us. He got to. At Their Mercy Part 2 The phone rang after supper last night. "Hey Mr. Wallace, guess what?" "Ah, who's calling?" "Me, Jay, your master." I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Jay had phoned me the day before to say his friend had posted the story he had made me write a week earlier. I figured he was lying and just playing mind games with me the day before, and I figured this call was more of the same. "So guess what?" he repeated excitedly. "What?" I hated to ask. "Someone wrote! Three guys actually!" I didn't believe it. It had only been twenty-four hours since he'd told me the story had supposedly been posted. It had to be a lie. "Isn't that great!" "Jay, we have to talk about this." "Not right now, I got a buncha phone calls to make. I just wanted to let you know that someone sent in this real cool idea. Don't worry, we'll talk real soon, shithead." I sat down at the kitchen table. Did he really know someone who would post the story? Did someone actually read it and write back a suggestion what else he and the boys could do? I found it hard to believe anyone would. For one thing, the things they had made me do were sick, and definitely unbelievable. Besides, if anyone had written, Jay would have been over to my place immediately. Not only that, three people in one day, that had to be a lie. There are some very weird news groups on the net, I know that, and there are some very weird people in this world, I know that too. As I sat there, I wondered just what someone would suggest a gang of preteen boys do to an adult man. Once started, my imagination began to run wild, especially with some of the stuff in the news lately. I did not sleep well last night. This afternoon I left work early and drove to Crestview Middle School in the northeast part of the city where I live. I have never been to the school before, and I've never had reason to drive to it, but I drove straight to the address and parked in the visitor's parking lot. The busses were all lined up and school had just let out. It was a fairly large school from the looks of it, probably around six hundred kids. The sign at the entrance said it was grades four to eight. They were swarming all over the place. Getting out and walking across the parking lot, I knew that I was not doing so by my own will. "See, I told ya he would be here." The sound of that voice confirmed what I had suspected. Jay was walking across the parking lot, followed by a gang of boys. There had to be over a dozen. "Told ya Jay would make him come," said a smug voice that I recognized immediately as that of nine-year-old Billy. Walking along beside him was the only other boy I knew by name, a blond-haired youth the same age as Jay by the name of Tyler. "Hi, Mr. Wallace," Jay greeted as if it was perfectly natural for me to be there. "Glad you could get away from work." I wanted to turn and leave but my legs would not listen to my mind. I wanted to call out for help or to at least protest what was happening to me, but my voice box would not listen either. "Come with us." As I followed Jay and the boys, I noticed more joining us. We walked out of the parking lot and turned into an alley beside it. A row of lilac bushes had been planted along the school fence, blocking the view of the alley from the parking lot and school building. The other side of the alley was lined with garages, storage sheds, and tall fences, blocking out the view of the alley from the residences adjacent to the school. It was littered with the usual garbage from a school yard, milk cartons, juice boxes, fast-food containers, discarded tests and assignments, and cigarette butts. I noticed a number of the boys had lit up the moment we had entered the alley. It was evidently a common place for the kids to grab a smoke. We stopped about half way down the alley and the boys formed a circle about Jay and me. By this time I figured there had to be at least two dozen, ranging in age from nine to fourteen. They were an assortment of heights and weights and an assortment of hair styles from almost shaved bald to curls past their shoulders. Some were carrying books under their arm, some had large backpacks slung over their shoulders, and most weren't carrying anything. Many were chewing gum, and a number were smoking. One thing they all had in common was their clothing, loose baggy pants or blue jeans with large oversize shirts hanging loose over their hips and sneakers. Another thing they all had in common was the look of expectation and the exchanged glances that hinted something forbidden was about to happen. I tried desperately to think of the call yesterday and what I'd done today that was unusual. I hadn't consumed an inordinate amount of coffee or eaten anything that would activate my digestive system like the previous week where the boys had made me the object of their bathroom humour. The only unusual thing I'd done all day was leave work early and drive directly to the school. "You remember my phone call yesterday, shithead?" "Yes," I replied, knowing that derogatory name was the cue that put me under his control. "You remember what I said?" "That someone wrote about the story I wrote. Three people." "You remember anything else I said?" "No." "That's cuz I told you to do what I said, but not to remember that I told you," he said with a smirk, showing off for the crowd. "That's why you took off from work early and drove here. That's why you came with us now, and why you're gonna do what I say, cuz I told ya that ya hadda." He looked around at the crowd he was playing to. "Me and Tyler and Billie was telling some of the guys about the show you put on for us at your house a week ago last Sunday." He grinned at me like the Cheshire cat. He was referring to making me serve them in my underwear, and then . "You remember that?" "Yes." "Well, they didn't believe us, did youse?" The crowd generally murmured their agreement. "They still don't, but this guy Jerry wrote after reading your story and he got a real neat idea," he said, taking out a sheet of paper from his pocket and unfolding it. "Wanna hear what he said?" I didn't answer. I knew I was going to hear anyway. Jay looked about, and clearing his throat, he read from the paper with great dramatic flourish, "Great story. You could have the boys make him go to their school or a park and get naked. . . ." He paused there and looked at everyone, and then at me with devilry in his eyes. I cringed as he opened his mouth and I used every ounce of my strength to turn and walk away from there, or to call for help, or to at least object. I could do nothing but stand there and hear the command from my master. "So, go ahead, get naked." I strained and fought, but my body was not my own. I slipped off my suit jacket and dropped it on the filthy ground without the slightest care. Me, George Wallace, perfectionist and immaculate adult, just dropping a four-hundred dollar jacket on the ground like it was worthless. I undid my tie and dropped it on the ground too, and then bent over and untied my shoes. My heart was beginning to race as I began to unbutton my shirt. "Shit, he's really strippin'," someone said. "I don't fuckin' believe this," someone else said. "Hey, lookit all the hair on his chest." "I wonder if he got any on his butt." Several laughed at that comment. "He's got pretty good pecs for an old guy." It was a complement in a way, and I did keep myself in shape exercising once a week in the gym, but I took offense to being called an old guy at forty-four. I dropped my shirt at my feet and unbuckled my belt. As I pulled down my zipper, the buzz of excitement increased. I lowered my pants and stepped out of them. As I raised one foot and removed my sock and then the other, I was beginning to turn red with shame. By this time my heart was beating so fast I was sure the boys could hear it, and I was so tense fighting what was happening that I felt like I was about to snap. I slipped my hands under the elastic band of my white jockey briefs, and slid them down. "Fucking shit I don't believe this!" "The ol'bastard's really doin' it." "Jay wasn't fuckin' lyin'!" The murmur and comments were a buzzing in my head as I bent over and stepped out of my underwear. I immediately put my hands in front of me but of course Jay just as quickly told me to put my hands at my sides. I stood there stark naked in the filthy, garbage-strewn alley surrounded by two dozen teenage and preteen boys. "Look up," Jay demanded. \ I slowly looked up at him. "Turn around real slow so everyone can have a good look at your naked body." I turned slowly, staring straight into the faces of the crowd of boys. The older boys were all smirking and leering at me lewdly. The younger were staring at me in wide-eyed wonder. Boys of all ages were looking at me in disbelief, unable to believe what I had done and what they were seeing. A few glanced away with embarrassment, evidently having never believed I would do it and evidently ashamed for me. Most, however, were staring at me with keen interest. For most I was probably the first adult they had ever seen naked. Unable to look down or to move my hands in front of myself to hide my shame, I tried to concentrate on the rocks and dirt under my feet. It did not work. I made two complete turns before Jay stopped me. "That ain't all the guy wrote," he said with an evil grin, totally enjoying himself. He was in power, not just of me, but of the entire crowd of boys. He held up the paper and continued reading, "Great story," he repeated. "You could have the boys make him go to their school or a park and get naked and jerkoff in front of a whole bunch of boys invited to watch him do it." Jay looked at me triumphantly. Good God no, I prayed. He wouldn't. He couldn't. "I'm not gonna make you do that," he said and I sighed with relief and began to thank my lucky stars. "Not right away," he said with an evil grin, and I knew I should not have been so foolish as to believe this little eleven-year-old brat had any sense of decency or mercy. "Some of us have been talking and stuff all afternoon about ya, and we got lots of questions and figured you'd be the best chance for us to get some answers, right guys?" A few nodded and mumbled agreement. "So, who's got the first question?" He glanced around at the crowd. The boys fidgeted and stared everywhere except at Jay. "You'll answer all questions, won't ya, Mr. Wallace?" "Yes." "Fuck, I'll start," said one of the older boys. "How old was ya when ya first jerked off?" "Thirteen." "Didja do it all the way?" the boy beside him asked. "Yes," I replied, eliciting a murmur from the crowd. "Howdja find out about it?" "An older boy told us about it." "Does doin' it hurt ya or anything?" "No." "Ya ever do it in front of another guy?" "Yes." "In front of who?" "Jay, Tyler and Billie." "Besides that." "Nobody." "No shit." "Honest." "So when was the last time ya done it?" "A week Sunday." "And before that?" "I don't know. Years." "Ya haven't done it for years?" "No." "Cuz ya been fucking." "No, I haven't had any sex for years." "Why the fuck not?" "Just haven't known anyone." "Shit, forty-four and ain't havin' sex, that's weird." "Standin' naked in an alley in front of a buncha school kids is weird." "Hey, Jay, enough talk. Ya gonna make him do it or what?" someone called and several cheered and encouraged him to get on with it. "Yeah, I gotta be gettin' home or my mom'll be gettin' worried." "We better do somethin' before someone comes along and catches us." "You heard them," Jay said. "Jerk yourself off for us." My mind screamed as I took my limp organ in my hand and began to fondle it. Despite my shame and total lack of any sexual arousal, my penis responded. Maybe it was because of the long periods of abstinence. Maybe it was because subconsciously this was arousing. Maybe it was another one of Jay's hypnotic suggestions I was unaware of. I do not know, but gradually my penis began to swell, and the more it grew the more the whispering and smirking and elbow digging increased around me. The boys pressed in closer. Once I was erect, Jay had me stop and again turn in a slow circle so everyone could see my transformed organ. By this time my entire body had to be as red as my peckerhead from shame, and the comments of all the boys about my erection did not help. Jay then had me resume. I slowly worked my fist up and down my shaft, my face as hot as the organ in my hand. The boys continued to jeer and make lewd comments. It seemed like hours before I felt my stiff rod grow numb and signal the approaching climax, although I know it had to be only a matter of a couple minutes. I tried to control myself but I could not help breathing deeper and pumping faster as the need for relief took over and my body demanded satisfaction. I bit my lip as the first rope of semen spurted from my irritated shaft. "He's fuckin' cumming!" "Lookit it!" "Shit! "Lookit the ol'bugger spurt!" "Way to go dude! "Yeah, shoot that spunk out!" "Fuckin' far out!" "Hey, Jay, one cool show!" I stood there holding my stiff, throbbing cock, the last of my semen hanging in a long pendant. Twenty-four boys surrounded me flushed with just as much excitement, all twenty-four pair of eyes staring at my dripping cock and tight balls. Some of the boys had tell-tale bulges in their jeans, not just the fourteen-year-old boys but even some of the nine-year-old boys. Most were leering and smirking at each other knowingly. Many were looking at Jay with open admiration for the show he had me put on for them. I knew for a number of them I had just introduced them to an act they had never heard of until now. As I looked around at them I wondered what they were thinking. What would they be telling each other later this night? Who else would they tell about this? Would any of them tell their parents? They began to drift off, singly and in groups, until finally there was just me and Jay. "After you get dressed, you head straight home and write what happened. And remember what I said, you can't tell anyone about this, or show anyone what you've written. I'll come by and pick it up tonight so my friend can post it." "Very well." "It'd be real cool if some more guys write and send us some more neat ideas wouldn't it?" he asked as I put on my underwear. "I'd hardly think so," I replied honestly, still under his control. "Say by the way, Mr. Wallace," Jay said as I continued dressing. "What does 'a straight guy' mean?" "It means a man who likes women." "Just likes them?" "Well, no, likes them and has sex with them." "So," he said as he thought, "it's like the opposite of a fag." "That's right," I replied, and a wide grin passed over his face. "Why do you ask?" "You'll see," he said with an impish sparkle in his eye. "You'll see." -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----