Detention (mm hypno oral anal inc hs)

by O'Melissokomos


"That bitch!"


Samuel Andrews slammed his fist against the metal lockers, and the

angry clang echoed across the empty hallways of his high school. He

was on his way to detention during a Saturday morning no less, and he

couldn't believe Mrs. Stevens had the nerve to give him--the football

team captain and star quarterback--a weekend's worth of it just

because she got pissed off at him and his friends during their

Geometry class yesterday afternoon. To make matters worse, she slapped

the same punishment on them too, and now all five of them would be

missing the most important practice sessions of the season.


"So what if we weren't listening to her?" he huffed. "She was full of

bullshit anyway. No way an isosceles triangle's gonna help us win next

week's homecoming game. What's the whole fucking point?" Sam dragged

himself across the hallways on his way to Audio-Visual Studio, the

room he was supposed to report to.


When he got there, he opened the door, stuck his head inside and saw

that the rest of his friends were already there: Tim and Tom Trevor,

the safety twins, wide receiver Chris Jones and his best friend,

defensive back Brian Langkowski.


Sam looked around and saw someone standing near the blackboard setting

up the projection screen. The man turned his head when he heard the

door open.


"Ah, it seems that Mr. Andrews has finally decided to join us. Don't

stand just there gawking, Samuel. Come in and take your seat while I

finish this."


"Yes, Dr. Reynolds," mumbled Sam, briefly wondering why the school

counselor was the one there supervising them. He went inside and chose

the seat beside Christopher's. The five seniors were now assembled and

started talking amongst themselves.


First there were twin studs who were frighteningly identical in almost

every way: both 6' tall, weighing in at about 210 pounds of solid

muscle. They were handsome as hell, but dull as doorposts. Still, Tim

and Tom were devastating on the field; they seemed to be able to read

each other's minds and anticipate each other's moves.


Next there were the best friends, Brian and Chris. Brian, who was

famous for his unstoppable blitzes, was built like a brick house and

hit like a brickbat. At 6'6", 254 pounds, he was just big everywhere:

his neck, his arms, his hands, his feet, even his ears. If the guys

needed someone on the opposing team utterly demolished, the junior

juggernaut was the joe for the job. Chris, on the other hand, was made

for speed. His long, powerful legs have carried his team to many a

victory with his untouchable touchdowns. His lithe body was like a

steel spring ready to explosively uncoil at a moment's notice.


And finally there was Sam, who decided four years ago that he'd be

leading the school to the state championships. From then, he

faithfully followed an all-natural workout regimen that transformed

his freshman physique from a puny 120 lbs. skeleton to his current 195

lbs. frame of rock-hard, cut, senior student muscle. Even with his

jacket on, Sam's powerful body strongly asserted itself underneath.

There was no hiding his beautiful build. This man-boy was all jock and

truly a breathtaking sight.


Dr. Reynolds locked the screen into place and turned around to face

the nearly-empty room. "Now everyone, settle down. Before anything

else, I wish to announce that there will be a slight change with the

way you will be serving detention today. With your big game against

St. Mary's--and in deference to the requests of Principal Phillips and

Coach Henderson, who say the team can't afford to miss any practice

sessions without the five of you all at once--Mrs. Stevens has agreed

to postpone the rest of detention for next Saturday but insisted you

spend a morning's worth with me before your practice this afternoon."


Sam fidgeted on his seat and thought, 'Lecture all you want, you

prissy asshole. When I get out of here, I'm gonna find a way to get

back at that bitch but good. When we're through with her, she's gonna

wish she quit her job instead of sending us here.'


Dr. Reynolds continued, "I hope you'll take this opportunity to

reflect on what your behavior in Mrs. Stevens' class. I assure you

your conduct was definitely not befitting of what's expected of the

gentlemen graduating this fine institution. In light of that, I have

decided that we'll spending this morning learning something special."

With that, he switched off the lights, walked to the back of the room

and started a film projector.


Perplexed, Sam asked Brian, "Do you know what this is about?" The 6'6"

giant scrunched up his shoulders and shook his head to indicate his

own cluelessness.


In the darkened room, all eyes were trained on the screen while the

projector warmed up. After a few seconds, the words gradually came

into focus: "All about Discipline."


"What crap is this?" Sam loudly whispered to Chris.


"Whoo boy," Chris giggled. The twins snorted in joint mockery.


"Sshhh!" Dr. Reynolds hushed the five friends. "Pay attention."


The quarterback stood up to protest. "But Dr. Reynolds, you can't

expect us to..."


"You can and you will," the doctor cut him off sharply. "I suggest you

take your seat if you know what's good for you."


Sam shook his head, shrugged his shoulders and sat down. "We might as

well get this over with," he conceded as he slouched down in his

chair.


The projector was old and so was the reel. In today's digital age, the

boys had to scoff at the anachronism before them. The motor whirred a

high-pitched hum, and the images flickered incessantly. It just made

watching really uncomfortable at first. When the intro music and

credits finished, an imposing but good-looking gentleman walked

on-screen. He was wearing a sharp suit, his hair was slicked back to

the fashion of his day, and his eyes were deep and dark. He wasn't too

old yet something about his demeanor commanded attention and regard.

He wore a confident smile on his face that added to his appeal.


"What is discipline?" he began, his voice a dominant bass with a

slight Scottish accent. Everyone moaned, tossed up their hands and

rolled up their eyes back in disgust. It was bad enough they were in

detention; they couldn't believe they actually were going to waste the

entire morning listening to a preset lecture from a Sean

Connery-wannabe.


For the first five minutes, all of them were squirming in their seats.

The twins jumped at every chance to make a joke; Brian and Chris were

exchanging quips. All Sam did was keep looking at his wristwatch to

see how much longer he had to suffer through this ordeal. This

couldn't take forever, he hoped.


"Discipline is all about order and without order, there is only

chaos." The man rambled on and on, eschewing the values and norms

every gentleman should strive to abide to.


It was only after a while that Sam noticed something odd happening

around him. Tim and Tom were quiet and were intently watching the

film. The other two stopped talking and were even listening

attentively. He thought, 'Hmm, guess there's something to this thing

after all.'


"Discipline is about respect," the man droned as the flickering

screen--which, in the beginning, was quite bothersome--was somehow

easier to deal with now. In fact, the strobe-like effect was becoming

more enchanting, enticing and entrancing by the minute.


Sam couldn't help but look directly into the screen. He peeked out

from the corner of his eye at his friends and saw that the film

fascinated them too.


The man continued to speak, his voice gaining resonance. The

high-pitched hum was barely audible now, almost imperceptible.


"To show discipline, you must show obedience."


"What the f--" Flabbergasted, Sam called out to Chris, "Dude, did he

say what he just said?"


His friend's silence led to Sam's tone becoming more insistent.


"Hey, can you hear me?"


But again, there was no reply.


"Discipline. Obedience. Discipline. Obedience," the man punctuated.

"You must show obedience."


Sam thought, 'No! I'm not taking this shit anymore!' He forced himself

to get up but couldn't; he felt something holding him down. He tried

shouting for help but no words came out of his mouth. It was taking

all of his willpower just to keep from looking at the screen but even

then he felt his resistance beginning to flag.


"Be respectful, and you will be deserving of respect."


The entire room was flooded with more messages as Sam felt the words

eating into his brain. 'What's... what's happening to me? Why... am...

I...' He tried to think about anything else to take his mind away from

what he was watching, but he found it difficult to do so. 'I can't

listen... I won't...'


"Repeat after me: Respect and obey," the man on the screen commanded,

and all of Sam's friends chanted: "Respect and obey." He found himself

slowly mouthing the words as well even as he tried to stop himself:

"Res... respect... a-and... obey." He was scared and desperate. He

knew he couldn't hold on for much longer.


"Respect."


"Res...pect," Sam responded this time a bit more quickly.


"Obey."


"Obey," Sam finally said in unison with his friends and relaxed in his

 seat.


"Discipline."


"Discipline," they answered together.


"Obedience."


"Obedience."


And for the next 10 minutes, the enthralled athletes were continuously

bombarded with superliminal programming. They even had gotten

half-hard in their pants from how good they felt watching and

listening to the man who had become their entire world. Every time

they agreed to something he said, they were rewarded with more

pleasure, further reinforcing their willingness to obey.


All this time, Dr. Reynolds had been waiting outside the studio where

apparently he had snuck out unnoticed. As much as he wanted to witness

up close the subjugation of his subjects, he knew all too well the

compelling nature of the film and, to be on the safe side, quarantined

himself lest he be ensnared as well in its celluloid trap.


He checked his watch and noted that the show would be ending any

minute now. He slightly opened the door and peered inside to silently

survey his handiwork--five major hunks under his total control. His

heart pounding, his penis throbbing, his hands shaking--it was all

that he could do to stop jacking himself off right there and then, but

at that moment, he heard Coach Henderson coming up to him in the

hallway.


"Reynolds, there you are. Are you done with my boys?"


The doctor greeted back, thankful that his jacket was covering his

hard on, "Ah, Coach, what a nice surprise. I was thinking of calling

on you after practice, but now's a good time as any. Who's minding the

store, or the field, in this case?"


"The rest are doing drills, but we can't start reviewing our plays

when my best players are stuck here with you."


"Is the team expecting you back any time soon?" the doctor inquired.


"Nope. I left them instructions to break for lunch if I haven't showed

up by then."


'Excellent,' the doctor thought. "Come in why don't you, and if you

don't mind, please keep your voice down, they're finishing up an

educational film right now."


"Educational film?" the coach asked.


"You'll see." Dr. Reynolds accompanied the coach who saw his wards

uncharacteristically focused and attentive.


"Huh, how the hell did you get these guys to behave?" Coach Henderson

remarked. "Wait a sec, that film looks familiar. Isn't that Dr. Green,

the guy whose job you took over when he retired last year?"


"That he is, and this is the same film you watched when you were a

student here fifteen years ago. Considering how old it is, I'm glad to

say that it's as effective as ever," replied the doctor. "In fact just

yesterday, Dr. Green and I had a fascinating conversation all about

you and your teammates. It seemed you were the rowdy hellions of your

time."


The coach looked at the screen, slightly interested. "Yeah, I've

forgotten all about that," Henderson replied. He paced around the back

of the room as if he was trying to recall something from long ago.

"Much of what I remember is that we won a lot of games back then,

practically every one of them, but not at the beginning though. We

started out as just a bunch of punks like you said, but O'Malley

whipped us into shape. What I wouldn't give to have the glory days

back again," he proudly said at which point, the screen faded to black

and the projector wound down to a stop.


"Well, here's your chance to relive a part of it, Coach," Dr. Reynolds

smirked. "Boys, stand up from your seats," he commanded.


"Yes sir," they said, and the five jocks did so promptly and without

hesitation, surprising the coach.


"Now I've seen everything. You have them better trained than I have."


'You've seen nuthin' yet,' laughed Dr. Reynolds to himself before

saying aloud, "All right everyone, start stripping. Take everything

off, including your underwear and place your clothes on the desks.

When you take off your jackets, you will begin to get aroused, and as

each and every piece of clothing is removed, you will feel hornier and

hornier, your dicks will get harder and harder, but none of you are

allowed to cum until I say so. What's also important is that you do

everything slowly. Now that the coach is with us, there's no rush. We

have all the time that we need."


"Yes sir," they responded.


The coach blinked, not quite sure he heard the school counselor said

what he thought he just said. To his shock, he saw his players moving

robotically and beginning to undress themselves with no objections to

such an obviously obscene order.


"My God! What the hell are they doing, Reynolds! What's the meaning of

this? Why's everybody acting like they're..."


"Zombies?" the doctor answered. "I assure you, this is simply your

everyday run-of-the-mill mind control session. Something you ought to

be quite familiar with, by the way. As I understand it, Dr. Green

called you last night, not that you'd have any memory of it."


"Mind control? And what the hell are you taking about? Fuck that, I'm

going to call the police and have you arrested!" the coach seethed as

he reached for his cellphone to dial 911.


"I'm afraid that's not going to happen. Respect and obey me, Coach."


At those words, the coach froze where he was standing. "What's...

happening... to me?" he stammered. Coach Henderson was not by all

means a man to be trifled with. He had dedicated his life, his body to

sports, and it definitely showed. He could squeeze the life out a man

with his bare hands, but there he was, a 33-year-old hulking 6'2"

250lbs. mass of hardened flesh, immobilized at the whim of another.

For all his vaunted strength, he was struggling to punch in the last

digit on his phone, and he couldn't bring his finger any closer to the

key. "N-no... why can't I move? What... what have you...?"


Dr. Reynolds repeated the command: "RESPECT and OBEY."


Henderson's face grew white. He fought as hard as he could, but his

resistance proved all too futile, and in the end, he too was overcome.

Defiance slowly faded from his face, his arms dropped to his sides,

and he stood still, completely relaxed. "I will... respect and obey

you, Dr. Reynolds," he said.


"Now that's more like it. Put that phone back in your pocket, lock the

door and come over here."


"Yes sir."


"How are you feeling, Coach? asked the doctor, noting how much of

Henderson's blank facial expression matched his players'.


The coach sighed. "Pretty good, sir. Thank you for making me feel this

way again, sir."


"Well, let's see if we can't do better than 'good'. Take out your cock,

 Coach."


"Yes sir." Henderson slipped his thumbs beneath garters of his

underwear and his tracksuit and pulled both under his hefty balls,

causing his semi-flaccid cock to flop out.


"I've always wondered about how big you were. "Glad to see the rumors

in the faculty lounge weren't just rumors," Reynolds snickered. "All

right, Coach, since Dr. Green has transferred full control to me, I

want you to start saying 'I am Dr. Reynolds's hypnotized slave' over

and over again, and each time you do, you will become more and more

turned on. The more you say it, the more you believe it, and the more

you believe it, the bigger and stiffer your cock gets. Do you

understand? "


"Yes sir."


"Very good, then begin."


The coach began intoning monotonically, "I am Dr. Reynolds's

hypnotized slave. I am Dr. Reynolds's hypnotized slave. I am Dr.

Reynolds's hypnotized slave."


The doctor closely watched the coach's fat cock bobbing, slowly

filling with blood and its skin growing taut until finally achieving

its full and very impressive size. He then squatted down to scrutinize

Henderson's massive 9" erection twitching and its cockhead flaring

upon every utterance of the mantra, and he exulted when the first

beads of pre-cum oozed out of the slit. 'Perfect,' he thought. Now he

could leave the coach by himself for a while.


He stood up, turned around and saw that the jocks were now completely

hard, naked and waiting for further instructions. He told them to

carefully move all the chairs to the sides of the room and when they

were done, stand frozen like statues in a line for an inspection. As

they were doing so, he took this opportunity to disrobe, after which,

he started inspecting the players one by one, fondling their teen-aged

muscles, and giving each of them a thorough blowjob and an occasional

lubed finger or two up their asses.


As expected, Brian's was the biggest cock of them all, followed by

Sam's, then the twins's (identical even there, the doctor noted) and

finally Charlie's, which in fairness, looked proportionally huge in

relation to his ripped and tight body, and the doctor loved them all.

Titillated by their scents and turned on by their sensuality, he moved

on to explore the rest of their bodies, and by the time he was done,

even though their faces never showed it, they were all ready to blow

their loads were it not for the doctor's orders.


The doctor was on edge himself, edging ever closer to his inevitable

climax, and so he decided to wrap this morning's session up with a

bang. But first, he had to get some things out of the way first.


He barked out, "Listen up, boys. Whenever I ask you a question, I want

you answer me truthfully and to the best of your ability. Is that

understood?"


"Yes sir," they simultaneously replied.


"And whenever I tell you something, you will accept it as the

complete, unembellished truth."


"Yes sir."


"I think I'll start with you two." The doctor eyed the twins.

"Timothy, Thomas. Do the two of you sleep in the same room?"


Timothy replied, "Yes." And Timothy followed, "We do."


"Have you played with each other sexually?"


"Yes, but it was a long time ago," one began. "We haven't jerked each

other off aside from that one time," the other concluded. The doctor

was a bit disappointed at the news, but that was going to change.


"Timothy, Thomas, when I count to three, your thoughts are going to be

to filled with sex, and not just sex with anyone--you're dreaming that

you're having sex with each other Hot, steamy, man-to-man sex, sex

that the two of you should've been doing ever since you discovered

pubes on your crotches."


The twins nodded in the affirmative, their bodies already tense.


"Good, then begin. One. Two. Three."


Tim and Tom faced each other and began to do exactly what the doctor

had told them. At first they were kissing each other and trying to

gain the upper hand, but eventually both of them ended up on the floor

in a sixty-nine position, sucking each other off in an equal

partnership.


Dr. Reynolds smiled approvingly and turned his attention to the best

 friends.


"Christopher, Brian. Do you boys have girlfriends?"


Both of them answered, "No sir."


"Handsome lads like yourselves? Why not?"


"I haven't found a girl I'd like to hook up with," Brian said, and

Chris joined in, "Me neither."


"Is there anyone you like?"


Brian and Chris became quiet, clearly in an effort to keep something

to themselves, but they couldn't resist the compulsion to speak the

truth.


"C-Chris," Brian blurted out, and Chris replied with his best friend's

 name.


Reynolds's curiosity was piqued. "Are you two... together?"


"Yes sir," Chris said. "But nobody--not even our families--knows we're

 gay."


'Well, that makes things convenient,' thought the doctor, but this was

something he would have to deal with more seriously in the future

during a real counseling session.


"All right. I want both of you to face each other and look into each

other's eyes."


"Yes sir," the young boys complied.


"I'll keep things simple. You two are going to make love, and the more

you two love each other, the wilder, the harder the sex will be. Is

that..."


And before the doctor knew it, the two boys rushed to each other like

beasts in heat, and Brian immediately went for the kill ramming his

tongue into Chris' mouth as they rolled on the floor. After a few

minutes of French kissing, Brian worked his way down Chris' pecs, then

the abs and the cock before rimming Chris' asshole.


Doctor Reynolds was fascinated at how expertly Brian loosened up

Chris' rosebud that twitched expectantly. When Chris was good and

ready, Brian got on his knees and plunged his foot-long phallus right

into Chris' willing hole. With the way it easily slid in, it was

obvious that they had done this before. The doctor watched awestruck

at the rapturous hormonal-infused display and would have loved to feed

his voyeuristic tendencies even more if he didn't one last subject to

objectify, Mr. Andrews.


'And last but certainly not the least,' the doctor thought to himself

as he paused to admire the magnificent specimen of manhood that stood

in front of him.


"Samuel, how old are you."


"I just turned eighteen, sir."


"How old where you when you lost your virginity?"


"Fourteen."


"And to whom did you lose it to?"


"Some college girl I met in a frat party me and my buddies crashed,

sir. I don't remember her name."


'Always the stud,' mused the doctor, tickled by the jock's adventurous

indiscretion. He wanted to learn more of Samuel's sex-ploits, but with

lunchtime soon coming up, time was of the essence, and he knew he had

to make the most out of the situation. He thought for moment and

considered bringing in the coach for this last bit of fun.


The doctor called out to the coach, "Henderson, you can stop saying

what you're saying for now and come over here."


"Yes, sir." The coach groaned and walked awkwardly across the room

trying to negotiate the very hard hard on he had sticking out of his

track pants. His throbbing cock looked plumper than ever.


"Henderson, by now your balls are full of spunk, and I bet you

_really_ need to get off. But no matter what you do to yourself, you

won't be able to cum. The only way that's going to happen is that when

you're fucking the smart mouth of your star player."


"Andrews' mouth fucked," said the coach.


"And as for you, Samuel, you are fascinated by my body and everything

about it. Most especially, you want nothing more but to see, touch,

feel and taste my cock. Not only that, you're dying to know how it

feels to be stuffed up your ass."


"My ass stuffed," Sam paraphrased.


"Excellent, now get on your knees on the table, Samuel. Henderson, hit

him high, and I'll hit him low."


Both of them responded, "Yes sir," and did what the doctor ordered.

Henderson wasted no time jamming his dick down Sam's throat while Dr.

Reynolds got on the table and slowly drove in his cock up Sam's chute.

The doctor held on to the quarterback's bubble butt for support as he

began fucking the boy in earnest. In between thrusts, he looked around

the room and watched the other two pairs going at it with wild

abandon. The room stank of sex and sweat, which only increased the

everyone's lust. It was like a scene from one of his favorite porn

flicks except in this one, he was calling the shots.


He couldn't believe how everything worked out better than he had ever

hoped. Sure it took him two weeks restoring the film he found in the

closet of his office that used to belong to Dr. Green, but it was well

worth the time and effort considering how easily the jocks were

hypnotized and how quickly the opportunity for testing it presented

itself so soon after he talked to his mentor about it. Having an

already pre-programmed Coach Henderson show up was an unexpected and

delightful bonus. And the thought that he could get these men to do

his every bidding started sending Dr. Reynolds over the edge, and just

before he lost it, he shouted, "When I start cumming, all of you will

cum with me!"


"Yes sir!" the group responded, those whose mouths weren't busy with

sucking cock anyway, and not ten seconds later, the doctor couldn't

stop himself and screamed out, "I'm, I'm cummmminnnnnnggggggg!"


And once that domino fell, there was no stopping the rest from

toppling, and the room was suddenly filled with orgasmic gasps. Tim

and Tom flooded each other's mouths with their twin spunks. Brian

exploded into Chris who erupted in a flourish of white love. Henderson

growled and groaned and grunted as Sam swallowed every single spurt

his cum-denied coach delivered and Reynolds seeded Sam's virgin ass

with his sperm.


Some time after the heat of the moment died down. the twins and the

best friends resumed kissing each other and enjoying the afterglow of

their mutual encounters. Dr. Reynolds pulled out of Sam who continued

to suck on Henderson's deflating cock.


The doctor looked up at the clock and saw it was almost noon. He

commanded everyone to clean up the room and each other, erasing any

evidence of what had transpired that morning. He then told the boys to

put on their clothes and sit down in their original seats while he

talked to the coach.


"All right Henderson. You can head back to the field and will wake up

when you get there. You will not remember anything, only that you came

to talk to me about making sure the boys were good to go this

afternoon. Is that understood?"


"Yes sir."


"Very good. Now go," Reynolds said as he watched the coach leave the

room and wondered how it shouldn't be too hard to track down his

former teammates at the homecoming championship game this Wednesday.

Principal Phillips, for instance, was within reach. Maybe they'd enjoy

having a special reunion courtesy of Dr. Green.


When the coach was gone, the doctor then told the players, "On the

count of three, I will snap my fingers and each of you will then wake

up. You will forget everything that you've seen and done here today.

But when you hear me, and only me, say the words 'Respect and Obey',

you will immediately return to this state. Do all of you understand?"


"Yes, Dr. Reynolds. We understand. We will respect and obey only you,"

the five men responded.


Satisfied, he counted them out. "One. Two. Three." Snap. Almost

immediately, they awoke from their trance.


"Dude... what time is it?" asked Brian.


Checking his watch, Chris replied, "It's lunchtime. Looks like we

survived another detention."


"Man, I felt like I just had a great nap," Timothy said yawning.


"Me too!" Tom concurred.


The doctor cut in. "Now if I can have everyone's attention. As agreed

upon, you'll be spending this afternoon at practice, but you'll be

serving the rest of your detention next Saturday."


"Yes sir," Sam interjected rather abruptly. Dr. Reynolds looked at him

quizzically. Even Sam was taken aback at calling the doctor 'sir'.


"That's right, Samuel. Now, get going all of you. Coach Henderson is

waiting for you. I still have to pack up and close the studio. And

remember to please try to behave in Mrs. Stevens class or for anyone

else's class in the future. You wouldn't want to be sent back to

detention, now would you?"


Oblivious to everything that happened that morning, the five jocks got

up from the seats and left.


END


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