PROGRAMMED TO OBEY II
Alex twisted in his chair and unfastened the shirt button at his stomach. His shirt, like so many things in his life, seemed to squeeze him now, giving that uncomfortable feeling of the pressure of things that can’t quite be identifiedThe beige oxford cloth shirt breathed a sigh of relief as the opening allowed his growing stomach to expand in the breech opened by the unbuttoning. Alex tended to eat when he was nervous, and he was nervous now. It had been two weeks since the incident at the country club and Alex had not once had the opportunity to reinforce Sean’s training. If he had thought about it more, he might have suspected that Sean was aware, in some way, that things were not quite right and was avoiding Alex for that reason. But, Alex didn’t think about it that way, because if he had, he probably wouldn’t have taken the course of action he chose.
“Oh Sean, yeah,..thanks for stopping by,” Alex said this before he realized how stupid it sounded,...as Alex had phoned Sean and asked him to stop by his office,. that is to say, his cube, before he left work that day. Sean realized how silly it sounded and had to stifle a smile. It wouldn’t look good to be laughing at the boss, at least not to his face. Clearing his throat to recover his dignity, Alex shifted again in his chair and continued, " Sean, I’ve got a thing here I want you to go with me to see.”
“A thing ? What kind of thing?” Sean smiled and folded his arms, a quizzical look crossing his deep blue eyes. He leaned against the cube wall divider, brushing against last year’s calendar that was still tacked into the fabric. Sean had taken off his suit jacket and the white pinpoint oxford shirt gave just a hint of the solid muscles underneath. The knot of his thick red Italian silk tie was loosened and hung casually. “It’s a meeting, a professional association meeting that I wanted you to go to with me. It’ll be good for you to meet other guys in the profession.”
Sean let pass the reference to their work qualifying as “professional” status and instead asked, “This isn’t some kind of pyramid sales scheme you’re trying to get me into is it? You’re not some kind an Amway sales rep are you?”
Alex frowned, “This is a legitimate meeting of men in the business of programming, an old colleague of mine will be there, and I was going to go alone but I thought that this would be good exposure for you,. in a work related environment.” He approached the desk causing Alex to shift once again in order to see Sean who was now towering over him. The crispness of his shirt was tucked into the gabardine trousers in such a way that revealed the absolutely flat washboard abdomen. His arms, instead of crossed as before, were perched on his narrow hips, his face thrust forward in a look of amusement and defiance.
“Well, I’ve got to meet Julie tonight to give her the photographer’s proofs of the engagement photo.”
“We’ll be finished by 9:00 p.m. so you’ll still have time to do that.” Alex noted sourly, twisting again in his chair and feeling uncomfortable being in such close proximity to Sean when Sean wasn’t completely hypnotized. “Here’s the address,..” Alex took a piece of paper and scribbled out the directions to the meeting. “...I’ll meet you there at 7:00 tonight,. and don’t be late, " he added trying to sound authoritative. Sean reached out and took the scrap of paper, a square piece of note pad with the slogan “Total Quality Now ! " imprinted on top, folded it and placed it in his shirt pocket then turned and stepped back to the entrance to the cube.
“Anything else?” Clearly Sean was not happy about this outing. Smiling sweetly Alex replied, “I’ll pay your way this time, so you don’t need to bring money for the dinner.” Sean stalked off; while Alex returned to the clerical reports he was so good at preparing.
Sean parked his late model Nissan in the most lighted area he could find in this ,...this,. warehouse district. The location was not what he had expected. Alex had further mentioned that day that the place of the meeting would be in a new club in the most cutting edge of the city’s night life. The whole area looked like a movie set: beat up shuttered buildings, wet streets, the occasional security light casting harsh shadows. The soft leather of the car seats had added a few wrinkles to his shirt and pants. No matter, he had found the address and doubted that clothes were a factor here. It looked odd because there was no crowd outside waiting to get in, and no bouncer/gorilla trying to keep people out. Reflexively smoothing down his dark gelled hair Sean pulled on the door and went inside.
The first thing Sean noticed was the booming sound of some long past 80’s punk group,...who was it ?,..The Dead Kennedy’s ? After Sean’s eyes adjusted to the low light level he began to look over the crowd of people gathered there,...expecting to find Alex. The scene was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Standing around in small groups of two or three, were arranged young and middle aged fat white men. They were all wearing cheap business casual clothing of clashing colors and patterns which only added to this confusing scene.
“Sean!”
Alex’s voice floated out of the dark but as yet he could see no body attached to it. “Sean! I’m over here! “
Sean spun around and saw Alex’s familiar bald head shining in the overhead red lights as it pushed through a group of equally bald and fat men. The cigarette smoke in the place was fairly think at the five feet and above level and was already clinging to Sean’s hair and shirt.
“Sean, I’m glad you made it !” Alex reached out and with both hands then grabbed Sean’s left arm and held it firmly.
“Alex, who are all these people and what is this place ? I’ve never seen anything like it before.” Sean took another nervous look around the room. Through the haze of smoke he observed a bar in the back. The young bartender was serving customers who eagerly snapped up the large, icy, multi colored drinks usually associated with Mardi Gras or a cruise ship.
“Sean, these are some of the most brilliant men you’ll ever meet !” Alex urged a smile to his face. The change of expression forced on him a different pathway for the sweat that was dribbling down his forehead.
Sean looked away from Alex again, who maintained a grip on his arm. The DJ booth was behind dark glass and could not be observed but had mercifully changed the music to an old cut from The Stranglers and also lowered the decibel level so that screaming was no longer necessary to be understood.
A good count of the people there could not be made,...there was so much haze,..and men seemed to come and go from different side nooks and crannies. One thing struck Sean’s attention after he had surveyed the entire room: there were no women at this club. He was about to comment on this to Alex when they were both interrupted.
“Alex ! Mon Ami ! How good to see you again !!” A deep basso voice boomed out from the din of the place and both men turned to a large,..make that, very large man walking up before them. Standing at about six feet four Roscoe’s shaved head gleamed in the muted light. Finally releasing Sean’s arm, Alex offered his hand,..then his cheek as he greeted his friend. “Ross ! I’m so glad you’re here tonight,...I’m so honored.” Alex’s face was filled with true admiration and awe.
Roscoe’s long sleeve black shirt had no collar and was made of a very fine silk that seemed to ripple with his every movement. His pants were equally black. The darkness of the clothes against the black curtain from which he emerged almost made his body invisible, as if his head were floating out from the back room by itself. His inky darkness in attire emphasized the pasty, sun starved quality of his skin. The shirt’s ample cut concealed the belly that hung over the belt, concealing it. Black Italian moccasins completed the picture.
“Roscoe used to work for the CIA,” Alex gushed to Sean as he turned to introduce his old pal. “He even worked on the MKULTRA project for them.” Alex was almost giddy.
“Now Alex dear,..don’t go telling family secrets !” Ross admonished in a mock grave tone. He turned to face Sean, offering him his soft clammy hand. Sean accepted the offer of a handshake though he found the initial overtly gay, swishy, tone and mannerisms of Roscoe to be offensive.
Sean tried to be polite, “What is the MKULTRA project?”
“Was,...the MKULTRA Project, dear boy,..was,...it ended long ago.” Roscoe maintained a grip on Sean’s hand. Using his own fingers in the handshake Roscoe alternately pushed at different points on Sean’s hand while looking directly into Sean’s eyes. The effect was unnerving and Sean pulled it away.
“This was the CIA’s mind control project of the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s. It took unsuspecting people, and scrambled their minds like they were eggs !” Roscoe smiled and began eyeing Sean up and down his body as Sean looked uneasily at his released hand and then back at Roscoe.
“And Alex exaggerates,...I didn’t work FOR the CIA so much as the CIA worked ON me ! You see, when I started with them I was a straight boy just like yourself,...” Roscoe paused, “..but I was not nearly so cute as you ...” smiling again, Roscoe winked. Sean was revolted, but forced himself to make a half smile.
“The CIA made me gay....”
Sean interrupted, “Did they make you fat too ? " Sean mocked with the same forced half smile.
Alex couldn’t help laughing, then, seeing that this little exchange had not amused his friend he attempted to change the laugh into a cough and refocus the conversation.
“Sean,..yes,..the CIA might have had an effect on Ross, but not on his intellect. He later went on to Yale University where he did absolutely brilliant research regarding the effects of light energy pulses on neurotransmitters in the brain.” The caustic remark caused Roscoe to step back, and regard Sean with a menacing eye that morphed into an evil grin.
“It was Ross’s discoveries of how the brain is affected by these pulses that allowed the Company, as the CIA is sometimes called, to reach the holy grail of hypnosis….to have people do something they wouldn’t otherwise do,..and then,..not to remember anything about it.”
Alex had continued his talk in order to smooth over the sour effect of Sean’s remark, but clearly he was now getting wound up in his own lecture. He was sweating profusely and as he talked the motions of his body jiggled and spilled the overfull rum and coke he held in his left hand.
“They could get someone to do anything ANYTHING and they wouldn’t know “ Alex’s eyes were bulging, and spittle was pooling at the corners of his mouth. Clearly he was feeling the effects of the first rum and coke.
“Well, not anything, Alex,..you give us too much credit,…or blame as the case may be.” Roscoe had relaxed a bit now and looked at Alex with a mixture of amusement and pride from all the compliments coming from him.
“No exaggeration,…not at all,” Alex shook his head and by his manner sloshed more of his drink on his hand. “…In fact, word on the street has it that Kurt Cobain and Vince Foster were part of your work.” Sean’s ears picked up,..these were names from his youth. He looked expectantly at Roscoe.
“I’ll only say that Courtney Love was a very easy subject,” Roscoe smiled. “As for Vince Foster,..no comment.” On that remark, Alex took a slurpy gulp of his drink and smiled a bit woozily, while trying not to look woozy. Roscoe continued: “But Alex, we’re not here to talk about my old war stories, we’ve heard so much about your own work, that we’ve,…”
“Alex has worked in something like this ?!?” Sean interrupted, blurting out his astonishment as he switched his attention over to Alex.
The DJ had migrated the music back to loud and pulsing house remix of an old Sex Pistols cut. The cigarette smoke was building up as the partygoers seemed to continue to enter and leave the room.
“Scout ! Hey Scout ! Come over here !” Roscoe called to another person across the room waving his hand so as to be seen. Roscoe’s voice was authoritative and commanding now, clearly heard above the din of the rhythmic music with no trace of the earlier nelly sound he had used with Alex and which had so irritated Sean. Roscoe seemed to be able to change himself according to the person to whom he was talking, giving each something of what he wanted.
Up to Roscoe walked Scout, a tall fellow,.. approximately 24 year’s old but looking younger due to the baby fat in his cheeks and almost hairless face. Standing 6′ 3″ he had no meat on his bones at all. He wore a baseball cap on his head and out from under it was poking a thatch of reddish brown hair that was badly in need of cutting, though it has to be said that this helped to conceal the somewhat overlarge ears. An oversized pair of glasses were perched on his nose and kept sliding down due to sweat and the humidity in the room.
“Say hello to my friends Scout !” Roscoe ordered as he turned toward the young man. With a sheepish grin, Scout turned to Alex, standing next to him on his left and shook hands. The young guy was wearing a black tee shirt under a blue jean jacket with camouflage pants and some kind combat boots.
“Pleased to meet you Scout,” Alex said with an inquisitive tone in his voice. “An interesting name, is that your real one ?”
“Naw, sorta nickname. I was an Eagle Scout and then was going into the Army, the Rangers…Army Scouts… but my eyes didn’t test out.”
He was about to continue when he felt Roscoe pull on his shoulder.
“There’s something I want you to do for me, Scout,” Roscoe stated in a lower though still audible voice.
“Sleep!”
Roscoe’s left hand remained on Scout’s shoulder while his right hand moved up directly in front of Scout’s eyes, not more than three inches. In one swift motion he opened the palm of his hand, like a flower unfolding, just as he issued his command.
Scout’s eyes blinked twice, then went glassy.
“That’s it,” Roscoe continued, his voice lower now, purring into Scout’s ear. “All the way,…all the way,….closed.” Scout’s eyes blinked a few more times and closed. His head fell forward slightly to the left and the glasses slid almost to the tip of his nose. The long gangly arms hung loosely at his sides. A bulge appeared in the cammie pants.
Alex stared intently at the entranced young man standing next to him, then looked back at Roscoe, rolled his eyes and sighed.
“Ross, you know I’m quite taken in by your skill but there was no need to show off !” Setting his now empty glass down on a nearby table Alex noticed a large wallet in Scout’s hip pocket, and then turned to face the young man who stood silently sleeping in the middle of the noisy room.
“Is this some of your new techniques? Alex continued. “Do you care to explain about this?” Roscoe adopted a more confident posture now, and it showed also in his tone of voice.
“What he told you was basically true. He was an Eagle Scout. What do you call it now,..a nerd, a doofus, or doof for short.” Roscoe reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a large white handkerchief with which he proceeded to mop his gleaming head.
“And the Army did take him, but not for the Rangers. During the basic training testing his psychometric profile indicated a high suggestibility index so The Company was notified.” Sean was staring intently at the entranced youth. What kind of a place was this? What had Alex gotten into Alex? More importantly what had Alex gotten him into? He hadn’t noticed the two biker/porker types who had come up from behind him and stood gawking.
“What’s wrong with him?” Sean demanded of Roscoe. “What have you done with him?” Ignoring Sean, Roscoe continued, “The Company was notified and I put him through our standard Ericksonian conditioning. He won’t remember being here tonight.”
“So there’s nothing in him from your latest bag of tricks?” Alex asked.
“No,” Roscoe replied, eyeing the sleeping Scout. “Our budgets for research were cut in the 90’s and that’s when I retired. But when the current Attorney General came into office, I was called back. There are plans for,..” He stopped, and caught himself almost revealing more than he should. Turning to Sean he was about to say something when he spotted the two men standing behind him.
“Elliott ! How good of you to come here tonight. Really, Alex, I didn’t know you’d invite some of the old gang!” Ross turned briefly to Alex, acknowledging him for having invited Elliott and his twin. Sean turned around, startled to see Elliott standing so close behind him not noticing his idiot twin brother standing behind him on the other side. Being so absorbed in the entrancement of Scout he hadn’t seen them arrive.
“Sean,” Roscoe explained as he motioned with his head. “Elliott is one of the finest writers of computer code there is. He invented C++ programming language. Said he named it for the highest grade he ever got in college !” Roscoe burst out laughing. Alex joined in the mirth. Scout stood perfectly still.
Elliott didn’t say anything. He simply offered a large gap toothed grin. His long fine hair and scraggly beard may not have given him away as a programmer, but the pasty slightly irradiated skin of one who spent too much time in front of a cathode ray tube was the dead give away. In Mark Twain’s day the color was called fish belly white. The DJ was whipping the revelers into a froth with a remaster of an old Ramone’s piece, as the party goers also felt the effects of the alcohol and began, tentatively, then more aggressively, to grope and touch each other. The heat of the place and the width of their bodies brought out buckets of sweat. It was the DJ’s jarring switch from one band to another that caused Sean to notice again his venue.
“This place is insane !..there are no women here. Alex, you’ve brought me to a GAY CLUB !!” It wasn’t clear from the way Sean was talking whether this was an accusation or a question. But the effect on him was obvious: his face became red, sweat dripping down from his temples, the carefully coiffed hair now stringing over his forehead, and the eyes were both frightened and angry.
The absurdly obvious nature of Sean’s remark was equally obvious on those around him as loud guffaws sounded from Alex, Roscoe, Elliott, and even Elliott’s idiot twin brother. Only Scout stood silent and oblivious to the merrymaking. The party could end now, the big joke had had its punch line revealed, or had it? It was only the discipline of a Marine, (which Sean would always be), the obedience he owed to his commander, in this case Alex, that prevented him from walking out at that very moment.
As Roscoe’s laugh subsided he turned to Scout and, touching his shoulder in a certain way whispered another hypnotic trigger into his ear. Slowly…jerkily,..Scout moved his bony hands to his jeans and unfastened them. As soon as he did, out popped his 7 incher. It was fully erect and pointed straight out at a 90 degree angle from his body. There was a hint of a thick red bush surrounding the member and a close observer would also note the faint drop of precum on the cut purple head.
Sean gasped inwardly on witnessing this scene, his hands reflexively clenched into tight fists.
“What are you doing to him?” he demanded. “What are you testing him for?”
Roscoe’s face turned into a frown as it turned toward Sean.
“We’re not here to test him,” Roscoe hissed.
“We’re here, to test, YOU!”
Sean felt as if he’d been hit in the face with a brick. His mouth opened slightly in surprise. Without a word he turned to Alex expecting to receive some kind of explanation. Alex took a step closer to Sean looking at him sympathetically.
“Sean,” Alex began, “you need to remember your programming. That’s why we’re here, so you can remember your programming.”
That was it. The old trigger phrase. In the fraction of a second, Sean’s pupils dilated then snapped back to normal. Roscoe gave a slight nod of the head and Elliott and his idiot brother each grabbed hold of one of Sean’s arms. Ordinarily, this would not have meant anything. Sean was physically conditioned, toned. He was a Marine. The two fat brothers would have meant small work for his training. But this wasn’t a fair fight. Sean’s mind was scrambling, losing its vertical hold, like an old black and white tv going on the blink.
Alex noted Sean’s lapse, and seized on the opening.
“That’s right Sean, remember your programming? Remember your programming when we last talked ?”
Sean’s eyes dilated again, his muscles momentarily went lax, then flexed again as he squeezed his eyes closed and open again. He shook his head, throwing of beads of sweat, and seemed to snap out of the mini trance again. He struggled against the two men holding him and, using his elbows as clubs, punched back into their ample stomachs. The brothers gasped and let out a sound like air escaping a balloon. The idiot brother grasped at Sean’s suit and all three fell back on a table which collapsed from the force and the weight leaving all three on the floor. The grip of the brother tore open half of Sean’s white shirt, exposing his right nipple and rib cage. The red tie was flung back and away from Sean’s head so that it resembled a noose.
Alex’s started to reach for something in the pocket of his jacket, his worried face belying any attempt to look cool. Roscoe calmly walked over to Alex and held out his hand. Alex found the object and handed over a black device, that somewhat resembled a cd player, along with a pair of sunglasses. The DJ had switched over to the Eurythmics Sweet Dreams as Roscoe turned to face Sean.
Roscoe ambled over to the three men who were still a bit dazed from the fall and collapse of the table. He stepped on Sean’s right sleeve so as to pin down his arm then squatted to within a foot of Sean’s face.
“You see Sean,” he began calmly, looking directly into Sean’s eyes. “If Alex’s program for psycho-neural stimulation is correct, we will have a new and very powerful weapon in the War Against Terror. “
Sean blinked understanding and not understanding. The two brothers had partially fallen on top of his shoulders effectively pinning down.
“And the only way to know if his theories are correct is to test them. With you.
Sean attempted to scoot back away from Roscoe but was blocked by the immense weight of the fat brothers.
“You’re insane ! you FAT FUCK !!” Sean bellowed.
“If what Alex has been telling us is true,” Roscoe continued, “we can take a straight man, and, by application of this device, change him. Not just to trick him into performing a homosexual act, as I did with the Scout here,..but transform him in his mind, his very nature, into a gay man.”
“Get off me!! Get off you pigs!!” Sean sprayed saliva with his shout as he struggled against the twin’s dead weight, the messy strands of thick black hair shaking with every effort of his body.
Roscoe gave a slight smile. “Don’t worry Sean, you’ll be just like us.”
And with that Roscoe quickly slipped the dark glasses, which were connected to the device, over Sean’s protesting face, ignoring his look of horror and anger. He then calmly switched the device on and stood up.
Sean’s immediate reaction was a near super human effort of will and physical exertion and through it, pushed off the two whale-like creatures who were weighing him down. Simultaneously however, there appeared stars.
Stars, stars, stars, stars, in his mind’s eye, in his head, before his face and eyes there were stars. And dazzles, white rhinestones, sunbursts, and stars, and stars, and yellow so pure and bright that it knocked the breath out of him. His old friend, the little elf reappeared before his eyes causing Sean to smile at how ridiculous it was to see him again at a time like this.
He seemed to be saying something but couldn’t be heard.
Just at that moment, Roscoe clamped two headphones over Sean’s ears.
“I’m taking you on a journey,” chirped the little digital creature who was now coming in loud and clear. “I’m sure happy to see you again.”
Thus having spoken, Sean’s field of vision was again filled with the stars and the dazzling, and the stars and the giant cock and the stars and the buzzing and the humming of the little electric jolts that went into his brain, creatures as they sucked, little electric jolts in his body, as they danced at perfectly modulated hertz in his brain, around him in a dance of a veil and they sucked him and he sucked them in an electric way that felt so good and normal. Sean’s body reacted as if it were having the convulsions of a grand mal seizure. He twitched and moaned as he began to remember his programming and as he was taught something new something borrowed and something blue as the night filled with stars and the dick and the stars. Electricity is made to feel electricity if you pay the bill if you pay the electric you get hard.
“The limbic area of the brain is being stimulated,” explained Alex to Roscoe, wiping his sweating brow with an old rag of a handkerchief.
“Each area of the brain will be stimulated and made to submit before going to the next higher brain function. The program is self reinforcing and measures compliance in terms of the brain waves produced by the subject in response to stimuli offered at each level of training.” Alex’s confidence in tone was undercut by a twisting panic inside him as to what would happen to him should this fail. He surely would need cab fare in such an eventuality and while Roscoe wasn’t looking took the opportunity to lift the thick wallet from Scout’s sleeping rear pocket.
Roscoe starred at Sean impassively. “I must say I really prefer my old methods. But they are slow and they don’t give a genuine conversion.”
“There’s nothing to worry about,” assured Alex as he continued to mop his already dry forehead and hide the wallet away in his coat pocket. “It’s all about stimulation and control at each level of consciousness. Control and stimulation—they come together and eventually they are the same thing and finally become obedience and passion. He will be under control at the end of this, under control and obedient.”
The commotion had not even been noticed in the room. The sound system had changed to techo was continuing at a feverish pace while the collection of gay programmers and IT geeks was taking this rare time away from their debugging routines and their underground cubicles to perform various actions on each other’s bodies. Clouds of cigarette smoke filled the room.
Elliott had sat up and was nursing an elbow that he injured in the fall. The idiot brother reached up with his left hand to Sean’s torn shirt and began slowly to fondly the nipple with his thumb and index finger. The tear in the shirt revealed Sean’s torso covered in sweat. The pectoral muscle alternately flexed and relaxed in rhythm to the symphony of lights going on in his mind. As the massage continued, the brother dropped his head back slightly and gazed up at the mirrored disco ball twisting slowly above his head.
Alex reached over to Scout and twisted the baseball cap backwards so that the bill was pointing to the rear. The mass of red hair looked even more unkempt and ridiculous.
“What are you doing ?’ demanded Roscoe in a not friendly tone.
“I’m tense. If I can get your friend here to blow me, I’ll be better able to monitor the process.”
“Leave him alone and watch your subject. “ Roscoe’s words were spoken slowly, each one enunciated quite clearly and sounded like a threat. Alex could hardly have expected otherwise considering the circumstances but then he always was an opportunist. At the same time Roscoe noticed that Scout had lost his erection.
And Alex did watch his subject. The passage of time is not noticed by those engaged in intense concentration so it can be said that none of those in the tight circle noticed the passing of the evening as Alex looked at Sean and ensured that the headphones and glasses were kept firmly in place and periodically adjusted one setting or other on the little box.
Sean was all but frothing at the mouth. He moaned. He vocalized sounds. He twitched and sometimes thrashed about but Alex and the twins made certain he was under control physically. Each person eagerly applied his hands to one part or another of Sean’s well muscled anatomy as he strained against the effects of the treatment. The clothes were soaked with sweat and covered with dirt from the floor.
It can’t be said exactly when, but at some point in the process it became apparent that Sean’s pants were straining under the pressure of an ever increasing cock. The idiot brother noticed this and, reaching over, unzipped Sean. His hard dick sprang to attention. The bulbous uncut head was deeply veined. A single wart appeared on the left side of the thick shaft. The brother slid his hand down below, to the hard area between the ball sac and the anal opening, and began to rub. Then, just as he was about to grab the cock, Sean heaved a long sigh and was still.
Everyone looked at Alex. Alex looked at Sean and swallowed hard. Sean lay perfectly still. Sweat was still glistening on his face and forehead. The dense black hair looked matted and dirty.
Alex reached over and removed the glasses then the headphones. Sean’s eyes opened. He blinked twice then raised himself up on his elbows as the twins released their grip. He looked straight ahead without saying anything.
Roscoe approached him. “Why don’t you get up?” he said in soft tone.
“Because no one ordered me to get up,” came the flat toned reply.
Alex and Roscoe looked at each other. The twins were dumbfounded. Alex’s whole body and face seemed to sag with relief. The relief turned to a smile, a look of triumph, then almost at the same time, smug satisfaction. All of the difficulties and uncertainties were forgotten. Analog to digital, decimal to binary, straight to gay, Alex just knew it was inevitable.
“Get up on your knees Sean,” Roscoe ordered.
“Yes Sir.” Sean rose to his knees, his erect cock still hanging out the unzipped pants.
“What do you want Sean?”
“I want dick, Sir.”
The mind controlled puppet stared out into the space of the room. Out beyond, the party was still in full swing.
“What else, Sean? What else do you want?” Roscoe reached over and put his hand on Sean’s sweaty black hair, gently pulling it back so he could see the eyes of the puppet.
“Sir, I want to do as I am told.”
Roscoe looked over at the deflated Scout. No use getting him hard again. Roscoe would have to make himself the guinea pig in this case.
“Alex, there just may be a bonus in this for you,” Roscoe announced as he unzipped his trousers.