Campus Case Study
Part 27: Options.
This weekend had not been much of a holiday for me. I had discovered little to give thanks for. Marty had become a full-fledged problem. Physically he posed no threat, tied to a chair in my study.
But his disappearance had been noticed much too quickly; the story appearing in the local newspaper on Friday and people out looking for him all weekend. Worse than that I had been unable to induce a hypnotic trance in him. Marty was, unfortunately, part of the small segment of the population who were unsusceptible to hypnosis.
Which meant I had to find another solution to the problem he presented. It would have been so easy to duplicate my work with Nick, leaving out the unimportant intermediary steps and digressions, simply turning Marty into a spandex-clad sexual being. Once he’d evolved he would no longer worry about what was happening with Nick. He’d be much too concerned with staying in the throes of an endless orgasm. Now I had to face the fact that the only options left to me were more drastic. I wracked my brain for most of the weekend...
Murder would be messy. And with the way I was feeling lately I wasn’t quite up to covering up a homicide. There were too many details involved in homicide. In order to leave no trace of the killing here I’d have to move him again while he was still alive. That had been no easy task the first time. Trussed up and unconscious Marty was dead weight, alive or no. And I didn’t believe I could count on him to walk quietly to my car and climb into the trunk.
In the movies it looks so easy to kill a man, hack him up into pieces and dispose of the parts in little garbage bags. Marty would need bigger garbage bags. He was tall, long-legged, with large hands and feet. It would be a shame to have to kill him. He was definitely a beautiful specimen of young manhood. With the gag in his mouth it was easy to appreciate his finer qualities—the physical attributes. Once he began to speak his cocksure attitude kicked in and he became much harder to take. Even tied to a chair after having been stunned, drugged and abducted, he was full of threats and accusations. The first thing I would have done if I’d had him under was shut down his vocal cords. The less he said, the better.
Cutting him into pieces with a chainsaw might be a little drastic, of course. Though it might be fun to keep his long, narrow cock in a jar as a souvenir. Turned out my speculation had been correct: Marty was endowed with equipment in proportion to his body size.
I shook my head. I’d been watching too many late night movies. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately. I didn’t even own a chainsaw. And somehow the thought of buying one to use on Marty seemed grim.
Nick could do it. If I told him to kill Marty, he would. At this point his behavior was so dependent on my commands I could easily have him take care of his friend. Permanently. The easiest thing to order would be an execution-style hit. Nick could press the gun to Marty’s forehead and pull the trigger. Bang! Done. That takes care of that. Except of course for the body with the whole in the forehead. If we dumped it in the right neighborhood it was possible the police would believe it was drug-related and not think twice about one more college kid’s untimely death.
I could make it look like a suicide. Force him to write a note, then hang him somewhere. But where? The police knew he wasn’t at home. On campus maybe? No, too many security cameras in the public areas. Suicide didn’t seem like a feasible option.
I could poison him. That wouldn’t be too messy. Unless you consider the whole corpse-disposal aspect again. Where would I dump a 6′4″ college guy? It wasn’t like he was small and easily maneuvered or hidden. Sure, I could spike his drink with rat poison and wait for him to keel over, then steal a car and shove him in the trunk. No! Stealing a car would be dangerous. And without the keys how would I get into the trunk? A garbage can! Dead he’d be really flexible. At least until rigor mortis set in. I could fold him in half at the waist, shoving his toes under his chin and closing the lid. Then I just set the can at the curb somewhere.
I read somewhere that certain acids would dissolve even bone. Maybe I could just strangle him then pour acid over him until there was nothing left. Even if there was a little bit left I could dispose of the remains much easier if I could sweep them into a Ziploc baggie. Baggies are notoriously small and disposable.
Murder was Plan B. Plan A involved acquiring some pharmaceuticals through a less than reputable pharmacologist. I was waiting for a call from him today.
I drove to campus running over my lecture in my head. Today we would explore the differences between male and female criminals, including the justice system’s sometimes double standard and the differences between male and female prisons. Studies seemed to indicate that women commit crimes of passion, while men were more likely to plan a crime first. Was it that women were more civilized and more likely to seek other means to solve a problem? Or did men enjoy the methodical planning that goes into planning a crime?
After class Nick met me in front of the classroom. He wore white spandex football pants and a red spandex shirt. If his socks had been blue instead of white he would have looked like a flag.
“Damian, I don’t know if you read in the paper about Marty Jones’ disappearance...”
“I did see the story, yes.”
“Well, he’s a friend, and I was thinking maybe I should spend the afternoon looking for him instead of helping you today. I mean, if that doesn’t cause a problem for you.”
“Beach Boy, you’ll come to my office.”
Nick’s body language changed and it was clear he was now in his suggestive state. He followed me wordlessly to my office.
Once we were both seated I began.
“Nick, you must put your concern for Marty aside. He was following you and trying to cause trouble. Remember?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You will cease any attempts at finding him. You know he’s fine and will return when he’s ready. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How’s Marty?”
“He’s fine.”
“Right.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You won’t even think about Marty being missing anymore, Nick. Marty Jones is becoming a distant thought. Your memories of his friendship are fading into the background. If someone asks about him you will answer he’s fine. Otherwise he will no longer cross your mind. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All you can think about is spandex and sex, Nick. Those are the only two things that should matter to you now. You’ve probably been noticing that the more you wear spandex, the better you feel. In fact, your entire body seems to be aroused by spandex. Your penis and nipples are engorged with blood. Simply wearing spandex now gives you a pleasurable sexual feeling. It almost feels to you like a low-level orgasm coursing through your body at all times. Can you feel the waves or orgasm washing over your body as you wear your spandex?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent. The longer you wear spandex, the deeper these feelings will become. Your orgasm will become more intense as time goes on. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Nick, are you shaving your body like you’re supposed to?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When did you last shave?”
“Yesterday, sir.”
“Excellent. Have you ever thought of shaving your head?”
“Yes, sir.”
My eyebrows jumped to my forehead. “You have?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent! Today you will shave your head. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What will you do?”
“Shave my head.”
“That’s correct. You will not rest today until you have shaved your head. Now, there’s one more thing we need to discuss. Have you and Mike progressed in your physical relationship?”
“I jerked him off again last night.”
“Do you enjoy ‘jerking him off’?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you know what you would enjoy even more?”
“No, sir.”
“You would enjoy oral sex even more, Nick. Have you ever performed oral sex before?” Even though I knew the answer, I wanted to ask.
“No, sir.”
“Do you remember eating your lollipops, Nick?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oral sex is much like eating your lollipops. Only instead of candy you put a penis in your mouth and lick and suck. The next time you’re with Mike and you’re about to give him a handjob I want you to look at his penis and remember your lollipops. Then you will lick and suck on Mike’s penis. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You may go now and shave your head. 1...2...3.”
I blinked a couple times.
“Thanks for coming, Nick,” Damian said, across his desk from me.
Cumming? God, I felt like cumming. Did Damian notice the big hard-on I was sporting? Nah. He wasn’t like that. He was a man of science. He’d never think about some dumb college kid’s erections.
I felt so incredibly juiced up though. Not really horny; more like I had just jerked off.
I got to my feet. My knees felt a little rubbery. I steadied myself. There. That was better.
“I’ll see you Wednesday, Damian,” I said.
I picked up my books and walked out the door. It was early. Cool. Damian almost never finished early. I had time to stop for a haircut on the way home. I had been thinking of doing something new...
To be continued in Part 28...
Campus Case Study
Part 28: Sucker.
Shit!
I was going to be late.
I don’t know what happened today. I left Damian’s office earlier than ever, but I seemed to have less time than usual.
I ran through my day in my head as I turned on the shower and stepped inside.
Once I’d left Damian’s I drove to the mall for a haircut. I had been meaning to get a trim for a couple of weeks and I wanted to try something new.
I ran my hand over my smooth scalp.
“Shave it,” I had told the barber. “All of it.”
When he was done I had looked at my reflection in the mirror. This was the way it should be.
I lathered up a washcloth and soaped up my body. Smooth and hairless everywhere. And my arms and legs and abs and chest had never been so firm.
I had gone riding after I left the barber shop. Then I did my swimming. I felt energized all day. Kind of juiced up. Like I needed new spandex.
I’d driven sixty miles to a new sporting goods store to see what they had. When I left the dressing room I had a new singlet under my football pants and shirt.
I soaped up my cock and balls. They were throbbing. I must’ve jacked off four times today. And I felt like I could go again!
But not now. I rinsed myself off and stepped out of the shower. I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked to my bedroom.
I stood in front of my closet and dropped the towel. My naked body glistened in the mirror, water droplets catching the light. I opened the door and retrieved a pair of poison green spandex pants and shirt.
As I stepped into the pants my legs began to tingle and my cock jumped. I slipped on the shirt, feeling the tingle spread to my arms. My nipples were hard, my nipple rings on display under the green spandex.
I slowly stroked myself.
Somebody was knocking at the front door.
I shook myself out of my stupor. I hadn’t even realized I was jacking off, staring into the mirror. It was like looking at those pictures of men in spandex that I always used to collect to stare at while I masturbated. It didn’t look like me in the mirror. I was never this hot or this sexy or this incredible to look at. The guy in the mirror had a hard body, a hard cock, a smooth head, and a second skin of green spandex ending at his neck, wrists and ankles.
I ran through the apartment and opened the door.
It was Mike. He was dressed in khakis, a blue button-down shirt, and sneakers. To look at him you’d never suspect that on Saturday nights he got dressed up in costumes as a sailor or a doctor or whatever and took his clothes off for men. He just looked like the preppy kid you sat next to in class—the hot one all the girls drooled over.
But he didn’t like girls. He liked me.
Right now he was staring at me.
I smiled. “Hi, Mike.”
Mike’s eyes dropped to the floor and returned to my face.
“Your hair,” he said.
I ran a hand over my head. “You like? I shaved it. It feels good. Feel it.” I stooped over, the top of my head near his chest. “Go ahead.”
Mike tentatively palmed the top of my head.
“Come on in. Sit down,” I said, leading the way to the couch.
“Christopher is expecting us soon—”
“We have time,”
“But you’re barefoot and bald. Did I miss something?”
I sat next to him on the couch.
“Nick, you okay?”
I licked my lips. My whole body felt like it was buzzing. I dropped my eyes to his crotch.
“I’m great. How ‘bout you?” I reached over and felt for his cock. It was getting hard.
Mike looked at me in surprise as I unzipped his khakis.
I pulled his cock free through the slit in his underwear. It stood pointing straight in the air.
You know, I never noticed before how much his cock reminded me of a lollipop. Lollipops were my favorite candy. I liked to have one in my mouth to suck on. I kept a bag in the drawer by my bed. Some nights I used to fall asleep with a pop in my mouth. When I’d wake up it’d be stuck to my face sometimes. I didn’t like being all sticky like that, but I liked having something in my mouth. One time I had even bought one of those all-day-suckers. My tongue ended up sore and tired before the lollipop was gone.
I bent over and licked the top of his penis.
I shivered. So did he.
“What are you—?”
Mike stopped talking when I closed my mouth around the head of his cock.
I angled off the couch onto my knees in front of him. He spread his legs, moving his feet wider to allow me to kneel between them.
I licked his cockhead.
Mike’s hand was on the back of my head. He was pulling me toward him.
I could feel his cock sliding further into my mouth.
I started to gag.
He eased up. He rubbed the top of my head.
My cock was on fire.
He was breathing harder. I looked at his face and smiled. His eyes were dark and his jaw had gone slack.
I kept on licking his cock. I was remembering that old jingle... How many licks does it take...? It didn’t matter. I liked licking his cock like this. And he liked it, too. I could tell.
He pulled my head closer to him again.
More of his cock slipped into my mouth.
I wanted more of his cock in my mouth. I wanted him to be happy. So I took more cock in my mouth. He tasted kind of salty, but pretty good. I kept licking his cock, running my tongue up and down the shaft, sucking on his cock head, and trying to take more of him into my mouth.
His fingers were grabbing around my ears, pulling my head closer to his body.
His legs were squeezing together, knees pressing against my arms. I could feel his shoes pressing into the sides of my legs.
Cum shot into my mouth.
I tried not to gag. It tasted awful. I swallowed it fast, but more kept pumping into my mouth. When he was done his legs relaxed. He extended them straight out.
Mike was eyeing the bulge in my pants. He checked his watch.
The front door flew open.
I scrambled off my knees and onto the couch.
Carm burst in carrying a sack of groceries. “So you’re here. Any news on Marty?”
I wondered if Carm had heard the sound of Mike yanking his zipper up.
I shook my head. Did I look as red and sweaty as Mike did? It was time to get out of here.
“Christopher’s waiting?” I asked Mike.
“Yes!” He hurried to his feet. “We’re gonna be late.”
Carm blocked the door. “Can we talk for a minute?”
“Go start the car, " I said to Mike. “I’ll be right out.”
He left.
Carm grimaced. “What the fuck are you doing, Nick?”
“Going to Mike’s friend’s house.”
“Don’t be an asshole. What happened to all your clothes?”
“They’re in my closet.”
“The only thing in your closet is spandex.”
“Right.” What was his point?
“Where’d all your other clothes go?”
I shrugged. “Everything’s there.”
“Look, man, I don’t know what your deal is, but Marty was right. You’ve turned into a fucking freak. And what’s up with this Mike guy? He doesn’t look like somebody who should be hanging out with a guy dressed all in spandex...”
“I’m no freak,” I said. “You are! Stay out of my closet and out of my face.” I grabbed my sneakers and left the apartment, slamming the door.
Mike’s car was in front of the door to the building.
I climbed in the passenger’s seat.
He leaned over and kissed me.
I raised my eyebrows.
“I didn’t get to thank you up there. I will later.”
He reached down and ran his index finger over my cock.
My toes curled.
Shit!