The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Naughty Schoolboys

AgainstMyWill@gmail.com

March 2010

When they walked into the school, Bobby’s parents both breathed a sigh of relief.

Bobby had been... well, experiencing difficulties, they liked to say, at school in the past. Well, schools. Plural. Four of them, in fact. It’s not that he was a bad kid, but he had trouble focusing, had a hard time with other kids teasing him, and in the end had gotten kicked out. Four times.

The Martin Halloran Magnet School promised, on its website, nothing short of miracles. They’d all read it with some skepticism—fool me once, the saying goes, but fool me four times?—but they’d decided to show up anyway. It couldn’t hurt, they figured. The literature described the Halloran school as a palliative for unruly high-schoolers, a panacea for inquisitive minds, and a hotbed of progressive thought in education. They promised the newest most state-of-the-art facilities, the most credentialed staff, and the most effective results, nearly overnight. The photos of the grounds and the—admittedly rather posed—shots of the classrooms were remarkable. It looked like something out of science fiction.

Even Bobby was excited to go check the place out.

“You must be Mr. and Mrs. Larsen,” said a woman standing, waiting in the hallway, extending her hand. Her hands looked well-manicured, her outfit was clean, prim, and well-pressed, and her stylish glasses complemented her lightly made-up face, framed by a conservative, clean haircut. Overall she was attractive, but almost clinically neat.

It didn’t take much to sell the Larsens on the Halloran school, that day. Once they’d seen the facilities and even stopped to observe a few classes running, the whole family was excited about the idea. They enrolled Bobby on the spot, and the very next weekend brought him back with a couple suitcases and handed the registrar a check for his new uniforms, and after a brief goodbye, his parents kissed him on the cheek and left him to his new adventure.

Bobby’s first week of classes was relatively uneventful. He was on his best behavior, of course, not knowing anyone yet, not knowing how the rules were. In the back of his mind, he was just waiting for the day he could start to slack a bit. He never liked school, felt it was a waste of his time, and once the allure of the new school had passed by day 3, he was back to wanting out.

In the meantime, before he settled in, he started to make some friends. He sat in the backs of the classrooms and while nobody at the Halloran school was throwing spitballs or paper airplanes, things were still a bit more relaxed towards the back than the front. Everyone seemed a little uptight during class, though, which he found a bit odd, but as class ended, they’d open up and chat a bit more.

One guy, Albert, was especially chatty after class, and he and Bobby became fast friends. They ate their meals together, spent their recess together, and what little spare time they had back in the dorms they spent together, too. Sometimes some of the other guys would hang out with them, but plenty of the time they were just hanging out alone, reading comic books, talking about girls (neither had any real sexual experience, though they liked talking as though they did), and smoking the occasional cigarette when they thought they were particularly safe from prying eyes.

“What’s the deal with this place?” Bobby asked Albert, “Everyone seems so uptight, it’s like they’re all scared all the time. And I’ve never seen anyone do anything bad and get caught. What do they do to you?”

“I don’t know,” confessed Albert, “I’ve only been here 4 months, but same here—never see anything out of the ordinary, never see any of the guys misbehave. Except one time, actually... there was this kid, I didn’t know him that well, he did something in class, I didn’t even see what. The teacher wasn’t even upset, he was all calm about it, but just told the kid to head down to the “Corrections Office,” and the kid looked like he about shit himself, turned white as a ghost and looked like he wanted to die as he walked out of the room. I just figured they kicked him out or something, ‘cuz I never saw him again.”

“Huh,” Bobby idly mused, “Weird.”

And then one day the two of them were out behind one of the dorm buildings, in their favorite private, hidden spot, sharing a cigarette. Albert had just taken a drag off of it when suddenly one of the groundskeepers turned the corner not four feet away and stared him right in the eyes.

“Oh, dear,” the man said, “Cigarettes are prohibited for boys on school grounds. Looks like you’re being naughty.”

“No—no, I was—no, it wasn’t mine!” Albert tried to protest, but was still holding the cigarette, and exhaling smoke as he cried out in protest. The groundskeeper just smirked.

“Nice try, young man, but naughty’s naughty, and now it’s time for you to come to the Corrections Office with me.”

At this Albert blanched white and turned to run. Without missing a beat, the groundskeeper reached out like lightning and grabbed Albert by the arm. Albert was athletic, strong for his 17 years, but was no match for the large, strong man now dragging him towards the main office.

“No! NO!!” Albert shouted, but the man clamped his other hand over the boy’s mouth as he dragged him off.

Bobby sat in shock, staring at the receding figures, unsure what to do. Eventually he began to cry. Night fell, and the curfew bell rang, and finally, not knowing what else to do, Bobby got up and slowly walked to his dorm room and went to sleep.

A week passed, and Bobby neither saw nor heard of Albert again. By the end of the week he dared to venture up to the teacher he felt most comfortable with—all of them seemed rather clinical and cold, but at least Mr. Gilbert occasionally smiled, even if they weren’t very nice smiles.

“Um,” Bobby prompted. Mr. Gilbert looked up.

“Yes, Mr. Larsen?”

“Um, I was wondering... my friend Albert, he was, well, he was taken to the Corrections Office last week,” Bobby continued. At the mention of the Corrections Office Mr. Gilbert started, slightly, now paying very close attention. “Anyway, I was just wondering, well, if he’s coming back?”

“Mr. Larsen,” Mr. Gilbert said, looking ominously over the top of his glasses, “If he was brought to the Corrections Office, you’d do well not to pry into things any more. Just let it be and take care that you don’t end up there too.” That last part he ended with particular emphasis. Bobby felt a shiver run up his spine, and silently walked out of the classroom without so much as a “goodbye.”

Weeks passed and Bobby found it harder and harder to concentrate, but he lived in terror of the Corrections Office. He still had heard not a word of Albert, not even that he’d been taken home, and nobody would talk to him about it, and Mr. Gilbert’s upsetting warning kept him from prying too much. But he didn’t make many close friends after that—the other boys knew he’d been friends with Albert, who was now missing, and avoided Bobby by proxy in their fear.

Eventually the loneliness and fear was too much for poor Bobby, and finally one night he decided he’d try to get to the bottom of this. This was absurd, he decided. It was just a school. If they punished Albert, well, so what? They had no right to make their pupils live in terror.

And so Bobby snuck out from his dorm, dropping out the second-story window into the soft grass and crept, ever so carefully, across the lawn towards the main office building. He didn’t know exactly where the Corrections Office was, but he had a good idea it was down a flight of stairs he’d never gone down—and that no student was ever invited down, for that matter.

Bobby prided himself on being rather sly, and spotted several groundskeepers on his way through the night but carefully avoided them all on his way. Half an hour after leaving his dorm bed he found himself standing at the top of the staircase, nobody the wiser, his heart nonetheless beating a frantic rhythm in his chest. He willed himself to take the first step down, and the rest after that weren’t so bad.

At the bottom he quietly opened the door marked, indeed, “CORRECTIONS OFFICE”, and slinked in and shut it quietly behind him.

He found himself standing in a hallway. One side of the hallway was concrete, but the other side was a huge window into a large, well-lit, white-walled room. The room was empty save for a large, white mattress on the ground and two boys.

One of the boys was Albert.

Bobby didn’t know the other boy, but he was smaller than Albert—most boys were, as Albert was six feet tall and had quite an athletic build. The other boy was maybe four inches shorter and much slimmer. Both of them were wearing what looked like hospital gowns. Both were standing, facing each other.

Abruptly Bobby realized he was just standing there staring at them through a large window. He went over and carefully tapped on the glass, but neither of them made a move. Bobby waited with his breath held. Eventually Albert turned, idly, looking around the room, but it was like he looked right past Bobby, didn’t even see him.

Ah. A one-way mirror. Bobby was in an observation hallway of some kind. He could see them, but they couldn’t see him.

This was weirder than Bobby had imagined. He had figured maybe something was up, but this was like something out of an actual science fiction movie. He stood, unsure what even to do, when suddenly he heard a loudspeaker crackle. Apparently there was a monitor in the hallway, too, because he could hear what it was saying to Albert and the other boy, but while he saw the boys’ lips move he couldn’t hear them.

“Good evening, naughty boys,” the voice said.

Bobby saw Albert shake his head, his eyes widening in fear and desperation. He said something Bobby couldn’t hear.

“Of course you are,” the voice said. It was a woman’s voice, or meant to sound like one, anyway, like a recorded greeting on a phone system or the voice in his parents’ car GPS that told them when to turn left. “We go over this every night, Albert. We caught you smoking cigarettes on school grounds. Only naughty boys do that.”

Albert started crying and shaking his head more vehemently. Bobby stood, paralyzed with uncertainty, able only to stand and watch, unsure what else to do. Again Albert spoke, and Bobby couldn’t hear.

“You’re not being punished at all, Albert. We just try to take care of all our students in the appropriate way. And since you’ve shown us you’re a naughty boy, we wouldn’t want you mixed in with the rest of the student body. The rest of the student body are well-behaved, nice boys. They’ll learn and graduate like nice boys, and go on to have wives and children and jobs like nice boys grow up to do, houses and cars and white picket fences. But not you, Albert, because naughty boys don’t do those things.”

At this point Albert was obviously screaming himself hoarse. The other boy was standing, relatively listless, seemingly unaffected by Albert’s desperate tantrum.

“Oh, calm down, Albert. We’re giving you exactly what a naughty boy wants. What? Oh, no, naughty boys don’t have girlfriends, Albert, don’t be silly. Naughty boys like other naughty boys. That’s all they want, Albert, they want to play with each other.”

At this Bobby watched with increasing concern as the boy who wasn’t Albert, his eyes glazed, lifted his gown over his head and dropped it. He stood, his thin body naked, and Bobby saw that his penis was hardening rapidly, stiffening and standing erect. Albert looked down and his eyes fell into a look of sad resignation and he shook his head still.

“Yes you do, Albert, because you’re a naughty boy, and that’s what naughty boys want. Oh, no? Then, Albert, why is your prick getting so hard?”

Bobby and Albert looked, in unison, down at Albert’s crotch, and both were visibly surprised to see that it was tenting out. Albert shook his head now in desperate disbelief.

“Take off your gown, Albert,” the voice said, now, in a different kind of tone. Albert kept shaking his head and screaming but slowly lifted his gown off as he did so. Bobby watched, perplexed. What was happening? How were they making Albert do all this?

“Now suck his cock, you naughty boy.”

The look on Albert’s face spoke of a deep and horrible struggle, but his legs walked him over to the other boy, now standing with a beet red erection jutting straight out from his crotch in a patch of well-groomed pubic hair. Albert’s face was contorted with fear and rage as he knelt down in front of the boy, and then finally his face lapsed into total surrender as he opened his mouth and slid his lips over the head of the boy’s cock. The other boy threw his head back and moaned, though Bobby couldn’t hear it, and Albert suddenly started sucking his cock like a champion. Bobby was transfixed and repulsed by the transformation. Anyone looking on at this point would have assumed Albert was as gay as they came, and was obviously loving sucking the other boy’s dick. Bobby shook his head in disbelief and disgust. What was happening at the Halloran school, anyway?

“That’s it, naughty boys,” the voice continued, still that upsettingly fake cheerful woman’s voice, “Enjoy each other’s bodies. Show the camera how much you like each other.”

At this point all trace of resistance had left Albert. The two boys looked like animals in heat, saliva dripping from their mouths, faces both masks of desperate lust and need, cocks both rock hard. Albert slid his mouth off the boy’s dick and stood up, grabbed the boy, and the two started sucking face with such zeal that they fell sideways onto the mattress, where they grinded against each other like dogs humping.

“Good work, naughty boys,” the voice spoke up again, “Show us what else you know how to do.”

At this the other boy shoved Albert, catching him off-guard and rolling him over on the bed. The boy’s dripping, rigid cock was slick with Albert’s saliva and so Albert barely had time to land on his back before the boy had driven his prick between Albert’s legs. Bobby saw Albert’s face crumple into a shout of pain as the boy’s cock hit home and pushed right up Albert’s asshole, but then the two started really going at it.

It was surreal, watching the scene unfold silently in front of him, trying to make out the words on their silent lips, but there was no mistaking the activity. The smaller boy was pounding Albert’s ass mercilessly, his lips drawn back into an animal snarl, and Albert and his much larger, muscular body writhed beneath him, taking his cock in his ass like an eager little queer. Bobby’s mind was reeling.

But nothing prepared him for the next shock.

“Albert,” the voice spoke up, again, “It’s your lucky day. It looks like one of your friends wants to join you here.”

Bobby froze. His blood turned to ice in his veins. How could he have been so stupid? The voice had even mentioned a camera. He came to life, sprinting for the entrance, half-expecting some big guard to open the door first and stop him. But instead, the door was simply locked.

“Hello, Bobby,” the voice spoke, “Trespassing on school grounds after curfew is breaking quite a few of the Halloran school rules. And that makes you an especially naughty boy. As you heard me say to Albert, we don’t want naughty boys mingling with the rest of the student body. You might corrupt them with your naughty ways. And so the only fair thing to do is to keep you separate from the rest of them, here with your own kind, all the other naughty boys.”

“No,” Bobby said, quietly but then louder. “No, no, let me out! Let me out!!”

The voice ignored him. “Bobby, I understand one of the girls from the nearby girl’s academy had caught your eye. Dana, was it?”

“How do you know about her?”

Again the voice ignored his question. “You and Dana had spent a good deal of time together, but the most you ever did was kiss. Why’s that, Bobby?”

“How can you possibly know that? We were—we were just taking it slow,” Bobby replied, incredulous, stunned, still terrified.

“Bobby, any good boy would have fucked her already. Any good boy would have knocked her up in preparation for marriage and a family and a minivan and a house in the suburbs. That’s what a good boy would do. That’s what we’re rearing the good boys at the Halloran school to do. They’ll live lives of social servitude and obedience.”

“This is fucked up,” Bobby muttered, shaking the doors vigorously.

“But not you, Bobby, because you’re a naughty boy. And naughty boys don’t fuck girls, they don’t knock up girls and marry them and have wives and live in the suburbs. No,” the voice said, and Bobby heard a gentle hissing noise and saw a jet in the ceiling start spraying some kind of off-color gas. “Naughty boys move to the city and live in cheap apartments near the clubs where they can go and get other naughty boys to fuck their naughty holes day and night.”

“I’m not a fag,” Bobby shouted, in the general direction of the voice.

“You’re a naughty boy, Bobby, and that’s what naughty boys are. You’re a fag just like the rest of them, and now you’ll spend the rest of your time at the Halloran school learning to be the best faggot you can. We promised your parents we’d raise you to succeed.”

“And success for a naughty boy like you means being a total cock-slut.” There was an odd dissonance, for Bobby, hearing the fake-cheerful woman’s voice calling him a “cock-slut.” He shook his head and idly wrenched the door handle again, knowing it wouldn’t open.

“So from now on,” she continued, “We’ll be teaching you the skills you need to be the best cock-slut you can be.”

Bobby was getting light-headed.

“Stop yanking that door handle, Bobby, and walk down to the other end of the hallway.”

Bobby was halfway down the hall before he even realized he’d started moving.

“No, please stop,” he said, but it was halfhearted. He couldn’t even muster much resistance. And as usual, the voice ignored him.

“Open the door, now, Bobby.”

When Bobby opened the next door, even in his heavily drugged state his heart skipped a beat and his breath caught in his throat. The next room was nothing but cots, stacked like a barracks, all the way down, hundreds of them. As if reading his mind, the voice spoke again.

“They’re not full yet, but we have to make sure we have enough room for all the naughty boys. Don’t worry, though, there are plenty here already for you to play with.”

Bobby saw that probably forty of the beds were occupied, the boys’ sleeping forms masked by the bedsheets, but he saw that all of them were at least topless, and he feared probably not wearing much else, either.

“A lot of our funding here at the Halloran school comes from the kind... donations... of the patrons who have underwritten this project,” the voice explained. “And one of their favorite things is witnessing the induction of a new naughty boy. That means you don’t get to sleep quite yet, Bobby. They were all... enjoying the activities of Albert and Josh, in there, but they’ll be quite excited by this unexpected turn of events.”

Bobby’s mind was still cloudy. He knew something was horribly wrong. He didn’t know what to do. His moments of clarity were few and far between.

“Walk into the observation room, Bobby.”

Bobby turned and walked into the brightly-lit room to find Albert, still on his back, still getting pounded by the much slighter Josh.

“Albert and Josh, stop. Stand up.” Both boys did as they were told, though their dripping erections didn’t subside one bit.

“Bobby’s a new naughty boy,” the voice explained to the two. As Bobby made eye contact with Albert, both boys’ faces fell. The moment of recognition gave Bobby a flash of clarity. Just weeks ago he and Albert had been good friends, talking about girls, smoking cigarettes outside in the sun. What was this place? How had this happened?

“Bobby, take off your clothes.”

Bobby’s mind kept racing, trying to come up with an escape plan, but as it did so his hands helped him out of his clothes, piece by piece. When he stood back up and found himself naked, he was no closer to a solution. He shook his head, sadly. “I’m not a fag,” he offered, more a plaintive whine than an assertion.

“No? Then why’s your cock getting so hard, Bobby?”

Deja vu, Bobby thought, just what he’d seen Albert go through earlier. He looked down and saw to his horror that his cock was filling with blood, pulsing and thickening. He felt his pulse rise, too, and he began to sweat.

“You’re getting horny, Bobby, aren’t you?”

“This isn’t me, you’re doing this,” Bobby protested, weakly.

“You’re a naughty, horny boy, Bobby,” the voice continued, ignoring his protests. “You want to do what all naughty boys want to do, Bobby, it’s OK.”

Try as he might, Bobby couldn’t stop himself from walking over to Albert. Surreal, dreamlike, he saw his naked arms reach out and wrap around the torso of his friend. He felt his warm skin against Albert’s, both their bodies coated in sweat, and smelled the stench of sex wafting off of Albert and Josh, still standing nearby, and it only made him hornier. Bobby felt like he was going into heat. His breath came out in short, hot panting. He felt as the head of his hard cock pressed against Albert’s thigh, and felt Albert’s cock press against his abdomen. The two boys embraced, and as their lips met, Bobby started to cry with shame and helplessness at what he was doing. Albert’s tongue snaked into his mouth and he sucked on it, now rubbing his pelvis and squeezing his hard cock against his friend’s bare leg.

Soon his crying passed, and Bobby couldn’t remember his shame or his helplessness. All of that was drowned out by his desperate hunger for his former friend, now nothing more to him than another horny boy.

“It seems you’re starting to understand your new role, Bobby. Naughty boys like you always understand sooner or later. Now, I think your friend Albert would like to fuck your virgin hole.”

Bobby grinned, licking his lips, and jumped up, wrapping his legs around Albert, who promptly found Bobby’s exposed asshole and prodded it with the head of his rigid cock. Bobby had never been fucked, had never even played with his asshole—Bobby had never even had sex with a girl—but all of that seemed very far away, now.

“I’m a naughty boy,” Bobby said, aloud, quietly, “I wanna get fucked.”

“Good, Bobby,” said the voice, “Say it louder, so our patrons can hear.”

“I’m a naughty boy!” Bobby shouted, obligingly, “And I wanna get FUCKED!”

At that, Albert shoved his cock straight up Bobby’s ass, burying it to the hilt in his hole.

“OOOOOOOOOOHHHHH FUUUUUUUUCK!” Bobby screamed, half in pain, half in delight.

“Good, Bobby, really take it like a bitch,” the voice implored him.

Bobby started drooling as Albert threw him down on the mattress and started pounding him.

“Josh, Bobby’s mouth looks so empty. Why don’t you two spit-roast him?” the voice prompted.

Josh, eyes still in a perpetual glaze, walked over and climbed on top of Bobby, straddling his chest, his dripping cock pointing straight at the boy’s mouth. Bobby could smell Albert’s ass on Josh’s dick but he obligingly opened his mouth wide like the voice said and Josh drove his cock all the way down his throat. Together, Josh and Albert reamed out the hapless new thrall’s orifices as the pleasantly, fake-cheerful woman’s voice taunted him.

“Are you thinking of Dana now, Bobby? No, I bet you’re not. Did you think you’d marry her? Did you think you’d get to fuck her? You’ve never fucked any girls, have you, Bobby? Well, now you never will, as long as you live. You’re a naughty boy, Bobby, and naughty boys don’t fuck girls. They get fucked like girls. Naughty boys get bred like sows, cocks pumping cum up into their tight holes and down their throats. And that’s you, now, Bobby. You’re a naughty boy, a total slut, and from now on, all you’ll ever crave is cock.”

Bobby couldn’t see Albert with Josh’s crotch smothering his face, but he felt the warmth and swelling as Albert pumped his ass full of cum and heard him shouting as he came. The shouting and thrusting pushed Josh over the edge, too, and Josh started pumping his own load down Bobby’s throat. Halfway through he pulled out and pumped the rest of it, shot by shot, right into Bobby’s open, eager mouth, filling it to overflowing.

“Good work,” the voice said. “Our patrons are pleased. The Halloran school is doing quite well thanks to you. Good night, naughty boys.”