The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“I’ve got to say,” said Yamir through a mouth full of candy, “if every library kept a dish of chocolates on their front desk, I know I’d read a lot more.”

“Hush,” I said, not really paying attention as I browsed the shelves for a musical score. We were at the music library on campus, located in the heart of the music building. Yamir and I both had just finished with a morning class here, and Yamir’s custom after any class in the music building was to dart into the library and grab some chocolate. The librarian glared at him for it but didn’t say anything, so long as he didn’t take too much.

As for me, I needed to analyze a contrapuntal choral mass scored for forty voices by next Wednesday for Professor Dolores’ Intermediate Counterpoint class. Was the assignment a pain in the ass? Why yes, yes it was.

“Ah, there we go!” I’d found the score. I reached up the shelf to take it down, but before I could grab it, another hand darted into view and snatched it from me. “Hey! What gives?” I turned to glare at the offender. “Oh. It’s you. What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” said Nickel gloomily. Nickel’s parents had been creative when naming their children. His full name was Nickelodeon, and he was the lucky one; his sister’s name was Porcelain. Generally speaking, he shortened his name to Nickel, or sometimes Nick. “I think I’m going to flunk Counterpoint, but other than that, everything is peachy.”

“Why are you going to flunk it?” asked Yamir, his words sticky with chocolate.

“Well, the professor hates me, for one.”

“I don’t know about that,” I said, “Professor Dolores seems fair to me... If a bit strict.”

Nickel snorted. “He gave me a D on my last assignment over a couple of parallel fifths. What’s wrong with parallel fifths now and then? Bach used them. Why can’t I?”

“You’re not exactly Bach,” said Yamir. “For starters, you’d need a powdered wig instead of that nest you’re wearing... Or wait, sorry, is that your hair?”

“Shut up,” Nickel snapped, a hand raised protectively to his head. His hair was kind of bushy. It was dark and poofy and hung down around his ears and actually looked kind of cute, but I wouldn’t tell Nickel that. He was straight, as far as I knew.

“How long are you going to be using the score?” I asked him. “It’s the last copy in circulation, and I need to get the assignment done too, you know.”

“Nah nah, don’t worry about it,” he said, waving the score around like a fan, “I’m gonna make photocopies anyways and then I’ll have it back in the library tonight, so you can grab it then. I want to be able to mark up my copy, and the librarians seem to mind when I write in the original scores.”

“Damn right we do,” muttered the librarian on duty as she stalked past to refill the bowl of chocolates that Yamir had depleted. At least Yamir had the grace to look sheepish.

“So, Nickel,” said Yamir, shaking off the librarian’s glare, “Professor Dolores—”

“Just say his name,” snapped Nickel. “It’s not as if any of the other professors care what you call them. Ivan just happens to be a tight-ass. He might insist you call him professor in class, but we’re not in class now, are we?”

“Geez, man, you’re really worked up about this. Fine. So maybe ‘Ivan’ didn’t take too well to your parallel fifths. Which, I might add, break the traditional rules of counterpoint, even if Bach did use them in his music, so I don’t get what you got so upset about, considering that what you’re studying in the class is, after all, the traditional rules of counterpoint—”

“That’s not the point, though!” Nickel said as we strolled out of the library and into the back garden. “He criticizes me all the time, much more than anyone else. Whenever he needs to hold up someone’s work to show what’s wrong with it, it’s almost always mine that he picks. And I’m not just saying that. I counted! The ratio is solid.”

“Ugh, math,” I murmured. Luckily Nickel didn’t hear me. He likes math.

“So okay,” said Yamir as we strolled through the garden, “he uses you more often as an example in class. That’s not exactly a bad thing, right? I mean, for some teachers, it can actually mean they like you. Higher expectations and all.”

“I don’t want higher expectations,” Nickel grumped, “I just want to get a good grade in the class and have him leave me alone. And I am pretty damn sure it’s not a sign that he likes me. It’s like some professors have teacher’s pets,” he said as he swung himself down onto the Throne, “and Ivan, well, Ivan has the opposite. Teacher’s vermin, or something. People that Ivan hates for no real reason. And I’m his teacher’s vermin. I hate it.” He crossed his arms and glared at the sky. “I wish I could be his teacher’s pet. It would make life so much easier.“

“Meh,” I said, “I was a teacher’s pet once. But then she started flirting with me... It got kind of awkward.”

“Well, it’s better than the alternative,” said Nickel, pulling himself up into a standing position. “You didn’t flunk that class, now did you?”

“No, I got an A,” I had to admit.

Nickel sighed. “Come on, let’s go grab an early lunch. I’m starving.”

“Amen to that,” said Yamir, and we began walking in the direction of the main campus. I glanced back for a second, certain I had seen movement out of the corner of my eye, but there was nothing there. Just the trees and the grass and the Throne, gleaming innocently in the sunlight.

A bizarre sight met our eyes when we walked into the dining hall. All three of us just stood there in the entrance and stared. After a moment, Nickel said, “What the fuck?” Personally, I agreed with him.

The dining hall was covered in pizzas.

Every available surface that could hold a pizza was holding a pizza. Or, at least, a pizza box, but I assumed by the delicious smell filling the dining hall that there were pizzas inside. Small groups of kids were collecting around various corners, snatching up the slices of the pizza with looks of disbelief on their faces. The staff didn’t look too pleased—they stood behind the food counter, setting out tubs of the usual food, but no one was paying them any attention. I was surprised they hadn’t complained yet about the outside food violating some health code violation or something. Or maybe they had, and they were waiting for someone to show up and deal with it.

“I wonder who’s in charge of this,” I murmured, and I got my answer almost right away as Adam sailed by on roller skates, a stack of pizza boxes in one hand. He was wearing a pizza boy outfit that I think he got from when he spent a summer in Brooklyn and worked at a pizza parlor for his job, apron and jacket and baseball hat and red pants, all the works. A couple of kids got in his way, and Adam screamed at them in a perfect Brooklyn accent, “Hey, watch it! I’m skating here! Out of the way, bozos!” I nearly laughed. Though, as I watched him begin setting down the pizza boxes at various places, I just had to wonder: where the hell did he get all that pizza?

“Oh man this is great!” Nickel rubbed his hands together in glee. “I”m going to get myself a slice before it runs out. Come on!” He ran towards an unattended pizza box, not bothering to see if we followed. I was watching Yamir. His reaction seemed... odd. He didn’t look happy, or even amused, which would have been more normal. Instead he just looked lost in thought.

“Hey, Yamir! Earth to Yamir. Anyone home?”

“Wha, huh?” He jerked out of his reverie. “Oh, yeah. Pizza. Cool, pizza! Let’s go eat some.”

“Sweet.” We headed towards an unattended box. Adam zoomed by us again, blowing a giant pink bubble and popping it loudly as he zipped by on his roller skates. I rolled my eyes and grabbed a slice.

Suddenly, I heard shouting from the entrance. “Okay, what’s going on?” A couple of professors stumbled in, accompanied by the head of the dining services and a harassed-looking cleaning lady.

“I dunno what happened,” she was babbling, “it was like this when I got here! They sent me to get you, they said they had to stay back to keep an eye on things to make sure it didn’t get out of hand!”

“Yes,” one of the professors remarked dryly (I belatedly recognized him as Ivan Dolores, the man who Nickel seemed to hate so much), “we all know how dangerously violent young people get when forced to eat pizza.”

“Look,” another professor wanted to know, “is it really breaking any rules?”

“Well,” said the head of dining services, “technically, for hygiene purposes...”

“Oh, com on,” snapped Ivan. “You know you order pizza from the same company when you guys have pizza days. Don’t be a tight-ass.”

“Tight-ass?! Now look here, you fuckin’ dandy—”

“Hey guys,” said Adam, swooping in front of the group of professors and staff and saving them from descending into a potentially nasty confrontation, “grab yourself a slice!” He cracked his gum and reached under his pizza-boy hat to scratch at his hair. “Go ahead! It’s on the house.” He held out a box. The professors shrugged and grabbed some pizza. After a moment’s hesitation, the head of dining services and the cleaning lady joined in.

“Well,” I said to Yamir as I munched on my pizza, “I’d say this has improved my mood by two-hundred percent. Who knew Adam had it in him! I used to think he was a bore. A well-dressed bore, but still.”

“Yeah,” said Yamir, seeming distracted as he gnawed on his slice, “who knew...”

I licked my fingers clean of pizza grease. “Anyways, I’ve got to start working on my counterpoint assignment if I want my weekend to be free!” I headed out.

So okay. I couldn’t really work on the assignment as long as Nickel had a copy of the music score. But Professor Ivan also wanted a general overall analysis as well as a specific one, and he wouldn’t know if I was to dip into the library and read a published analysis and took tips from it, now would he? That meant another trip the music building, though. I sighed, shouldered my backpack, and began the walk.

On my way there, I ran into Ned. Now, Ned is interesting. I feel like Ned and I ought to hate each others’ guts. He can be a little black-and-white about how he sees the world, or other people, and I’m always surprised he tolerates me at all. Also, he’s vegan, and he and I have gotten into arguments over the culinary merits of store-bought tofu. (Ned won that argument, I hate to admit, by saying “Billy, it’s not that tofu is bland, it’s just that you don’t know how to cook with it! Now try this stir-fry I made!” and alas it was actually delicious so he might have had a point.) But, somehow, we manage to get along and even sort of be friends. I think it’s because he likes reading Hercule Poirot murder mysteries. I love Hercule Poirot murder mysteries, and it’s rare for me to find someone else who does too. We bonded over it one day when we spent the entire conversation pretending to twirl our giant non-existent Poirot-sized mustaches. “What’s up, Ned?” I asked.

“Oh.” He slipped his hands into his pockets and scrunched up his nose so that all his freckles got shifted into new locations. “Nothing much, really. Michael’s being an ass. But that’s not news.”

“What’d he do this time?” I never fully understood Michael and Ned’s relationship. I never even saw them together much, and they definitely hooked up with other guys a lot. Well, Michael more than Ned, but Ned was one of those people who happily let loose their inner sluts when drunk, and though he didn’t bother getting drunk every weekend, he did it enough that a lot of gay guys on campus, and a couple of supposedly straight ones, had gotten head from him. But if I hadn’t known that Michael and Ned were in an open relationship, I might not have known they were dating at all, considering how rarely I saw them together in public.

“Michael’s just been distant lately,” said Ned.

“How can you tell?” I had to ask. “I never see you guys hang out anyways.”

Ned gave me a crooked smile. “Our reasons for dating aren’t, you know, for walking back and forth across campus with our hands glued together. It’s... well. It’s more private that that, I guess. I don’t mean private in a ‘top secret’ way. Just, intimate. We’ll spend evenings together in each other’s rooms. We watch old movies and cuddle.”

And fuck afterwards, I mentally added, but I didn’t say it aloud. I figured it didn’t need to be said. “That’s kind of sweet,” I said. “So what’s the problem?”

Ned shrugged one shoulder at me. “Eh. Who can tell. He’s just been distant the past few nights, that’s all. I don’t know what’s up. It’s no big deal. I’m not keeping you, am I?”

“Nah, I’m in no rush,” I fibbed, glancing at my watch. If I didn’t hurry, I’d end up having no time to do anything at the library before my next class.

“I see,” said Ned, amused, seeing right through my act. “Well, I’ll let you go, then. I’ll see you around.”

“See you,” I called, already beginning to jog down the path towards the music building. Something odd between Michael and Ned... I didn’t like the sound of that. Even though they were the most un-couple-like couple on campus, they were also a comforting fixture. I hoped that whatever was going on with them didn’t get worse. If they broke up, it would be really strange. For one, suddenly Ned would be available as dating material, and he was awfully cute... I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Not only was he taken, but we just barely managed to be friends. We’d probably slaughter each other in a relationship. He might be cute, but it was not a good direction for my thinking to go.

Nickel shoved the crust from his third slice of pizza into his mouth and exited the dining hall. Today was definitely looking up. Thank God he wouldn’t have to put up with that bastard Ivan till next week. The weekend was almost upon them, and personally, Nickel could hardly wait.

He wasn’t sure what it was exactly that had triggered that odd dynamic between his counterpoint professor and himself, but the moment Nickel had laid eyes on him, he knew the guy would hate him. Maybe it was the way his hair was always perfectly parted to one side, or the way he was precisely clean-shaved every day, or perhaps the way he wore a vest and slacks to class, when the other professors settled for more casual attire. Maybe it was just the briefcase. He was the only teacher at the college to carry a briefcase. It was a liberal arts college, for goodness sakes! You didn’t need briefcases! It made Ivan just look even more like a clean-cut Harvard graduate who had gotten lost and ended up on the wrong campus by mistake.

Nickel irritatedly rubbed a hand through his shaggy hair. Thinking about Ivan was putting him into a bad mood again. So Nickel swung by the student center and bought himself an ice cream cone. Then he headed to the photocopy room, snacking on the ice cream, and photocopied the musical score for Ivan’s class. Tasty food always managed to cheer him up. And now, no more classes till an evening lecture, so he quickly dropped the score off at the library for Billy to pick up and wandered back to slip into the privacy of his bedroom for a nap.

Except, Nickel realized the moment he entered his room, it wasn’t empty. Someone was already in it, lying on his bed. Nickel dropped his bag without realizing he had done so. “What the fuck!”

“Oh, hello,” said the naked white man lying on Nickel’s bedspread. “Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting here for nearly five minutes. Your bed cover itches, you know.”

Nickel just gaped, having difficulty processing the sight of a naked bizarre-looking stranger spread out on his bedspread. “What the fuck!!”

“Yes, you said that already.” The stranger suddenly pulled himself up into a standing position so quickly that Nickel was sure that if he had blinked, he would have missed it. Nickel tried to back away, to reach for the heavy lamp he knew was just behind him so that he could arm himself against the crazy nude guy, but his feet weren’t responding. Neither was his entire body, Nickel realized with a feeling that started as mild alarm and rapidly began to blossom into bone-deep fear.

“Now, calm down,” said the stranger, smiling, and it was as if he had puffed a spray of narcotic perfume into Nickel’s face. Nickel felt his eyes beginning to droop, even as thousands of alarm bells were clamoring in his mind, screaming at him to get the fuck out of his room and away from this guy.

“Mmm.” The guy’s hand was running down Nickel’s stomach. Nickel raised his arms without thinking about it and the man slid the shirt off of Nickel and let it drop onto the floor, leaving Nickel with his chest exposed. The man’s body was so close that Nickel could smell him, a cold metallic stone-like smell. He could see every inch of his body. It seemed strangely hairless, lacking even the tiny transparent hairs everyone has on their skin. Instead there was a pattern of blue marks running down his arms and legs, and a faint blue line beginning to develop on his back, tracing down his spine. His muscles were visibly developed, not overdeveloped, but present. Nickel found his eyes tracing the lines of the man’s body, tracking back and forth endlessly and mindlessly, his mind beginning to go into a haze...

“Oh, well, isn’t this lovely.” Nickel’s mind snapped back into focus to realize that he was standing naked in front of the man and, for some reason, his penis was achingly hard. The man cupped his balls for a moment, and Nickel winced. It wasn’t pain, it was something else, some feeling like Novocaine that began to tingle and numb and seep through Nickel. The man hissed and grabbed Nickel’s waist and roughly shoved him to the floor so that he fell on all four, his ass exposed. Nickel cried out at the sudden attack and tried to rise from the floor but nothing happened. The tinging in his balls was spreading through his cock and his belly and beginning to rise up to his chest. Nickel whimpered.

“Yes,” whispered the stranger as he rested his chest on Nickel’s back, his hands rubbing across Nickel’s chest, massaging the tingling numbing feeling to fruition, “yes, my little pet, I think this is a position that will come to feel quite natural to you soon.” Nickel’s mind was fogging up like a bathroom mirror. Desperately he tried to clear away the fog, squinting his eyes tight to make the fog burst like a balloon, but it wasn’t working. The stranger above him laughed and then he felt him entering him, he felt the stranger’s cock probing around near his asshole and finally pushing in, oh god, it was pushing inside him. And just like that, it was as if he had plunged into a bath of tingling numbness, and Nickel’s conscious mind knew no more.

Yamir stalked down the path towards his dormitory, grumbling to himself. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to erase the images burned into his retinas. Adam, his ass swaying from side to side as he pumped his legs to roller-skate away from Yamir. Adam, with a cheeky Brooklyn grin, that pizza boy hat perched cockily on his blond hair. Adam, delivering a pizza to his door, pushing his hair back from his forehead, his lips pursed, asking him if he’d ordered the extra-juicy sausage meal...

“Blah!” Yamir shook his head. That last one was just his imagination running away from him. It was too, too tempting, knowing that Adam really was a pizza boy at heart and not just playing a role, and knowing that Adam the pizza boy could be Yamir’s willing sex toy if he bothered... But no, Yamir had promised himself he wouldn’t go there again. He just wouldn’t.

“What are you doing there, loitering?” shouted a voice in a thick Russian accent.

Yamir’s head snapped to attention. Adam was standing in front of him, blocking his way, looking very forbidding in a costume-shop KGB uniform. Yamir gaped at him, his mouth working. Adam looked undeniably realistic, from the military cap perched on his blond hair to the black leather boots on his feet, and he even looked a little sexy if you were into that sort of thing. But, dressed like this, he was also probably incredibly dangerous.

“Weren’t... weren’t you wearing a pizza boy outfit just an hour ago?”

Adam blinked, his forehead wrinkling as if he was struggling to remember something from a past life. “...конечно, yes. The sauce, it spilled all over my nice clean apron. I had to change it, of course. You agree?”

Yamir tugged at his collar. He was feeling very hot all of the sudden. “Well, yes, of course... This outfit really suits you, Adam. I like... I like, um, I like the shoulder pads.”

Adam clapped his hands behind his back and suddenly leaned forward, cocking an eyebrow at Yamir. “Now what exactly do you mean by that, I wonder?”

“Nothing, nothing... I have to go to class. See you, bye!”

Yamir hurried off, trying to conceal his erection. Adam stood on the path for a moment longer, contemplating something, then straightened his shoulders and militantly marched away.

As evening approached, I decided it was time to stop by the library and see if Nickel had returned the score. I wandered into the library, peering around. None of the librarians were in sight, so I ducked behind the desk and checked the cart of recent returns. There it was! I grabbed the score and leaned onto the desk, waiting for a librarian to appear. I peered out the window at the library garden, or what was visible of it in the ensuing twilight. All appeared to be peaceful and calm.

Or was it? I narrowed my eyes. I could swear that the Throne seemed to be illuminated strangely, as if the sun was still shining on it, though the sun had begun to set almost an hour ago. As I watched, the light began to fade. It was as if the Throne had absorbed the light and given it off at a different rate than the rest of its surroundings. Idly I wondered what sort of material it would have to be made out of in order to do that.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” Susan, one of the nicer librarians, bustled in from the back room. “What can I do for you today, Billy?”

“I just want to check this score out,” I told her. As she took the score from my hands and began running the laser scanner over the bar code, I added, “Actually, I’ve also been wondering about some of the history behind this building. I know it used to be a mansion or something and then the college bought the mansion off the family’s hands when they got too poor to support it, but what about the sculptures in the gardens? Did they come with the house?”

“Actually,” said Susan, settling down into her leather computer chair, “it’s interesting that you ask that. There’s a whole history behind all that statuary. The man who owned the mansion last before it was converted into our music building—his name was Frederick Hives, I believe—anyways, he was a passionate collector of ancient statuary. But what he wanted was not necessarily craftsmanship or even famous pieces. He liked for there to be strange stories and legends around each thing he collected. I guess so that he could tell the stories at garden parties or something. But he’d travel across America and Europe and come across odd things and then bring them back. Like that statue of the cupid by the back entrance.”

“That’s a cupid? I thought it was a gargoyle.”

The librarian winced. “Yes, well, I don’t blame you. It’s pretty hideous. But it meant to be a cupid, once long ago. Anyways, that was taken from a church in Illinois. Local legend said that the cupid would bleed tears every now and then. When Mr. Hives showed up to take it away, some people were glad, but a lot were angry. It gave their town notoriety. They liked it.”

“So what did he do?”

Susan cocked a smile. “He gave the town a lot of money. And it worked like a charm. Always does.”

“I see... What about that throne thing? What’s the story behind that?”

“Oooh. That’s a good one.” Susan popped a chocolate into her mouth and sucked on it as she talked. “That one came from some town in Germany, I think. Or was it Poland? I don’t remember. That area of the globe, though. Anyways, there was this village on a hillside, and then, a few miles north, a valley just filled with linden trees. Legend had it that there were two brothers who decided to settle down and start two separate towns, each one several miles apart. I don’t really remember why they did that instead of just starting a town together. Maybe a bet, or a family feud? But I think they would visit each other’s town every now and then, to check up on things. I don’t really know. But then one day, something must have gone wrong, because when the brother from the town on the hillside went to visit his brother’s village in the valley, it was deserted. All the people were gone. The houses were abandoned. And there were linden trees growing absolutely everywhere, giant ones that must have stood there for centuries, except this man knew that they hadn’t been there a year ago. They sprouted up in the middle of the houses and tore through the roofs, they grew in the middle of roads. They created a massed thicket of trees, like this sort of quiet green cathedral, and in the very center of the town square, underneath the largest linden tree of them all, there was... that.” Susan pointed out the window at the Throne.

“That?” I looked at the Throne. It didn’t look capable of destroying a village. It just looked like a block of stone.

Susan shrugged. “Yeah, well, so the legend goes. Some people said there was a god inside the stone and the brother had offended it? Others said he imported it from somewhere and it cast its spell across the whole village. Some people don’t even link it to the linden trees and say it was just a coincidence that it was in the dead center of things. But anyways, they decided that the linden grove was cursed ever since, and young boys would dare each other to go into the grove and spend a night there, and sometimes people would vanish and they’d say they must have been swallowed up by the linden grove, and so on and so on. Typical Old European legend stuff, really. Nothing too surprising. So, naturally, our Mr. Hives had to have it for his collection. He didn’t bother asking anyone’s permission. He just went in, got some men to move the throne onto a truck, and drove away. Then he shipped it here and added it to his collection. The end.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, “isn’t that a linden tree growing right above the Throne?”

Susan laughed at the expression on my face. “Oh, don’t be so gullible. Who do you think planted that tree there?”

“You mean, Mr. Hives planted it there on purpose?”

“Who else?” Susan grabbed a stack of books and began stamping them. “That guy loved telling his stories, and he knew that he’d get some reactions like yours if he put the tree right behind the Throne. A great storytelling prop, but not too original, if you ask me.”

“Huh.” I looked out the window again. The Throne just sat there, looking perfectly normal and mundane. The tree behind it didn’t seem too interesting, either. Just another dusty college tree. I’d sat underneath it countless times. Still, I shivered. I told myself it was probably just because of the cold. I buttoned up my jacket and headed out to attend an evening lecture.

The first thing I noticed when I sat down for the lecture was that Kevin was back in action. He had been sick for a few days, which wasn’t necessarily unusual, but it was unusual that he took time off to recover. Kevin was normally too obsessive about not missing classes to take a break for a case of the sniffles. But there he was, sitting in front of me. He did look kind of peaky, I had to admit. He kept squirming around in his seat, too. Unbidden, the image of Kevin fucking himself with a dildo flashed into my mind. I shook my head and deliberately averted my gaze to clear my thoughts. My sight landed on the seat three chairs down, where Nickel usually sat. Strange. He wasn’t there. I wondered where he had gone to. Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen him all day, not since lunch.

I turned my attention back to the front of the class, which also meant back to Kevin squirming around. Why did he keep doing that? It was almost like... almost like... I stared at his rear, an insane notion buzzing around my head that I knew simply could not be possible, and yet... Kevin gave out a slight moan, and I bit my lip. It was impossible. It couldn’t be happening. But there it was. I was suddenly convinced that Kevin had a dildo shoved up his ass, concealed by his boxers and pants, and that he was fucking himself in the classroom right in front of my eyes.

Yamir strolled to his dorm room, his backpack slung over his shoulders. Even though he had just come from a class, schoolwork was the last thing on his mind. What he needed to do was get to his room and jack off. All through class, he had been teasing and torturing himself with the prospect of getting Adam in a nice deserted corner, ripping off that KGB uniform, slipping him into something a bit more workable, and then... No, no, he’d have to terminate that thought before it went any further or he’d get hard again. It was just too tempting.

“Watch where you are going, you bourgeois pigs!” Yamir’s head jerked up as he heard Adam cursing out some poor freshmen who had gotten in his way. They darted out of sight, intimidated by his KGB uniform and the fact that, well, he was playing the role very well. Too well, really. It was worrisome. He could get in serious trouble, walking around, acting like a parody of a KGB officer, straight from some Red Scare propaganda film. The tricky part was that Adam believed the performance, so long as he wore the outfit. Or, well, so long as the outfit wore him. And while in character, Adam could do something stupid and harmful, like censor the library, or try to foment revolution. And then he’d get expelled. Yes, Yamir better get Adam out of that uniform as fast as possible. For Adam’s own good, naturally. That would be a good idea, yes, yes.

Yamir’s mind recognized that train of thought as rationalization, but then Adam walked ahead of him, his ass plumply filling out the dark cloth of the uniform and twitching from side to side, and all of Yamir’s resistance went out the window as he trailed after Adam, following him into his dormitory.

As Adam strode through the dormitory and Yamir tip-toed after him, he frantically went through multiple plans of attack in his head. Tackle Adam and knock off his hat? He’d still have the suit and the boots. Take off the boots first, and he’d still have the hat. The entire uniform just shouted “Soviet kitsch!” and there wasn’t one particular article of clothing he could grab in order to sabotage it.

Then, suddenly, he got an idea. He fell behind, letting Adam continue to his dorm room, and ran to the soda machines located by the stairs. He thought for a minute and purchased a grape drink. He figured that would work the best.

A few minutes later, Adam heard a knock on his door. He stood up from his chair, where he had been idly censoring his textbook with a black marker, and opened the door, to be greeted by the sight of Yamir grinning and shouting “Heads up!” as he splattered a bottle of grape soda all over his suit.

“What in the world—what did you—I—” Adam spluttered, his face soaked in soda. A big purple stain was beginning to form all over the front of his suit and his pants. “What did you—you—ugh.” He moaned, clutching his head. “Hurts!”

“Here,” said Yamir quietly, letting himself into the room and locking the door behind him, “get the ruined clothes off. As long as they’re stained or ruined, they’re not going to work properly, and your head is just going to keep hurting from it.”

Adam didn’t say anything and just curled up into a ball on the floor, clutching at his head and moaning. Yamir sighed and began the process of undressing Adam. He pulled off the leather boots and tossed them into the corner, then pulled off Adam’s long black socks. He slowly unbuttoned Adam’s stained pants, his breath catching, and Adam’s legs emerged, pale and strong, the muscles flexing under the skin as Adam continued to clutch his head and twitch in agony. Yamir left Adam’s boxers on for now and pulled off the KGB cap next. Then he began to unbutton the coat and, with a little tugging and persuasion, managed to get it off Adam’s back. All that was left were the boxers and the tie and a thin white dress shirt. Yamir undid the tie and pulled it off over Adam’s head. He unbuttoned the shirt slowly, enjoying the suspense, as Adam calmed down and began to lie still. Finally, all the buttons were undone and the shirt was peeled off and discarded as well. Adam’s chest was exposed to the air and his nipples hardened from the cold. Yamir resisted the temptation to lick one—not yet, not yet.

As a last flourish, he pulled off the boxers. Adam lay on the floor, pale and strong and vulnerable and, somehow, innocent. He just lay there, eyes closed, unmoving. Yamir walked over to his dresser and pulled open the underwear drawer. After a little rummaging around, he found a thong and pulled it out. It was pink this time. Yamir smiled. It was a suitable color. He noticed two small items glinting next to where the thong had been and, curious, he picked them up. They were two fake nose rings, the sort you’d pop in when you wanted to dress up like a punk for Halloween. Yamir stared at them, getting an idea.

“Adam.”

“Yes?” Adam looked up, his eyes fluttering open. His face was totally open and devoid of any distrust or suspicious.

“Put this on, you’ll catch a cold if you stay naked.”

“I’m naked—oh! Oops. Thanks.” Yamir watched, an inscrutable expression on his face, as Adam slipped on the thong. He watched the pink cloth vanish into the globes of his bubble butt and then he reached out to pinch Adam’s nipples, hard. Adam gave off a surprised moan, and the moment his nipples hardened into stiff nubs, Yamir took the fake nose rings and clipped them on, causing Adam to shiver lustfully. They just barely managed to stay on, but Yamir had a theory he wanted to test, and this was one way to do it. Suddenly, Adam cried out as his nipples swelled slightly and Yamir watched, surprised, as the metal of the impromptu nipple rings extended and dove into Adam’s nipples, which accepted them like a hot knife into butter. Not only had the rings transformed Adam’s nipples, but Adam had also managed to transform the rings... Suddenly burning with lust at the sight he had just witnessed, Yamir leaned down, grabbing Adam’s head and bringing it up to his mouth, and crushed Adam’s lips into a kiss. Adam complied passionately, their tongues slipping into each other’s mouths. Adam pulled himself up into a sitting position and wrapped his arms around Yamir, pulling him in closer.

Yamir broke the kiss to pull off his shirt and unfasten his pants, but Adam interrupted him before he could pull off his socks and underwear by tackling him and knocking him onto the bed. Yamir gasped in surprise as Adam straddled him, grinning and licking his lips lewdly as he winked at Yamir. He rubbed his ass against Yamir’s hard-on as it strained against the confines of the underwear. Yamir reached out a hand and rubbed a finger against Adam’s highly visible erection threatening to burst out of the barely-restricting thong. A spot of pre-cum was already staining the thong a darker shade of pink, but this stain, unlike the grape soda, only seemed to increase Adam’s horniness and mental state. He leaned down over Yamir so that their chests met and Yamir could feel the hard swollen nubs of Adam’s nipples rubbing against his own, along with the metal of the piercings. Yamir reached up a hand and gave one of them a tug. Adam groaned loudly in response, and Yamir grabbed Adam’s head and pulled him into an aggressive kiss.

Adam moaned as Yamir’s mouth ravaged his own, and then he broke the kiss, his eyes fill with playful lust as he began trailing his pink tongue across Yamir’s neck, making Yamir moan and cry out. He continued his tongue-work down to Yamir’s chest, pausing to nip and suck at Yamir’s right nipple, before continuing the trail, leaving a burning path of kisses and licks all the way down to Yamir’s underpants, which were straining uncontrollably. Adam yanked them down, and Yamir’s cock sprang free. Adam took it in a loving hand and kissed the tip before swirling his tongue over the head and swallowing it whole. Yamir cried out and ran his hands through Adam’s hair, grabbing it in his fists and forcing Adam down onto his cock, which Adam seemed to take with no trouble at all. Yamir turned his lust-filled gaze at the pierced beauty below him, mouth full of his cock, and when Adam raised his eyes to gaze imploringly at Yamir as he bobbed up and down, it sent a jolt to his balls and took all his self-restraint not to come right there and then.

“That’s enough,” he panted and pulled Adam off his cock, pulling him in for a hungry kiss and giving him a tug on his nipple piercings before pushing him so that he landed on the bed on his back. Yamir pulled off his underwear and his socks and grabbed for the familiar drawer by the bed and pulled out the condom and lubricant. Adam groaned, tossing his head back, and raised his legs, spreading them wide and pointing his toes up at the ceiling with a ballet dancer’s precision, holding up his creamy muscular thighs with his hands. Yamir squirted the lube onto his hand and pressed a finger against Adam’s hole, careful to move the strap of the thong out of the way without dislodging the majority of the pink material—the one thing binding Adam to this state of carnal bliss. His finger dove in, and Adam gasped, his chest heaving, his cheeks flushed. Yamir wiggled the finger around, a predatory grin across his face, and then added a second finger. Adam groaned in pleasure and bucked his hips up, wanting more. Yamir pumped his fingers in and out, scissoring them to stretch Adam. Adam’s moans increased in their frenzy; the stain of precum on the front of his thong grew bigger and bigger. Finally he moaned, “I can’t take it anymore! Just pound me already!” Yamir groaned and closed his eyes at those words, to hear them coming out of Adam, and he pulled out his fingers and plunged in with his cock. Adam screamed, “OH fuck yes, just like that!” and began arching upwards, meeting every one of Yamir’s thrusts as he pounded into his ass, his thighs slapping at the flesh of Adam’s rounded ass cheeks and making them ripple. Yamir’s breath came harsh and fast; he grabbed Adam’s legs by the ankles and pulled them apart even wider as he plundered the writhing moaning creature beneath him, pistoning in and out, Adam below him with his cheeks red with hazy lust, his cock swelling angrily against the confines of his thong and threatening to pop out with every thrust. Adam reached up his hands to Yamir’s face, his face begging with need, and Yamir dove down and complied with a passionate kiss. Still kissing, Adam wrapped his legs around Yamir and cried out; his cock, trapped between the friction of their two writhing bodies, could not take any more, and with a shout, he came, jet after jet, soaking right through the pink thong so that the white semen could not be contained and dribbled out to soak his stomach and his thighs. Yamir came almost immediately after with a roar, shooting with his cock buried deep in Adam’s tight ass.

They lay like that for a moment, both of them catching their breath, and then Yamir slowly pulled Adam into another kiss, a slower and more sensual kiss, relishing the texture and flavor of his tongue as he lay beneath him, violated and exhausted and sated and most definitely satisfied. Adam smiled up at him, and Yamir smiled back and nuzzled his cheek with his nose. He didn’t bother to pull out. Adam closed his eyes and began to drift off, his legs and arms still wrapped around Yamir. Yamir didn’t think much of it and closed his eyes as well. In a few moments, both were asleep, still in the position that had been in when they climaxed.

When Ivan got home from a long day of teaching classes at the college, what he wanted most was to sink into the comfort of his empty apartment and wind down till he went to bed. He wanted to have a late dinner, watch some TV, take a hot shower, check his e-mail from his bed. So, with those plans in mind, it was a very surprised and disgruntled Ivan who walked into his apartment, turned on the light, and discovered an unconscious Nickel lying naked on his rug.

Ivan’s first reaction was to yell. He hadn’t been expecting anyone to be there, much less a naked student. His first thought was “Corpse!” But a few seconds of staring, bewildered, at the naked Nickel revealed that he was still breathing. So he was just unconscious. Or maybe sleeping.

Ivan closed his eyes, took deep breaths, and counted backwards from ten. When he opened his eyes, Nickel was still there. Ivan put down his briefcase and reluctantly admitted to himself that since the problem wasn’t going away, he might actually have to deal with it head on.

He approached Nickel and pushed at his bare shoulder with one hand, shaking him lightly to see if he would wake. Nothing much happened. Ivan shook him harder, but there was still no reaction. Finally, in exasperation, Ivan shouted at him, “Wake up!”

That did the trick. Nickel’s eyes fluttered open. “Wha... Where am I? What’s going on?” He peered around himself curiously. “Where am I? Who are you?”

Ivan stared at Nickel. “How did you get into my apartment? Breaking and entering isn’t exactly legal. Neither is, well, you know....” Ivan indicated Nickel’s unclad state. Nickel peered down in a puzzled way at what Ivan was indicating.

“Oh look, I’m naked. Who are you again?”

Ivan let his breath out in a rush. “I’m Ivan. Professor Dolores. I’m your teacher. Don’t play games.” But as Nickel peered at him cautiously from under his eyelashes, Ivan had to admit the uneasy feeling that Nickel might not be playing games and might seriously have no memory of who he was. A cold chill began to form down Ivan’s back. How would he explain to the authorities that he had found a naked amnesiac in his apartment? He had a feeling it would sound extremely suspicious, no matter how he phrased it. “Look, just try to remember everything, okay?”

“Okay,” said Nickel, his face twisting into a bemused expression. “...Oh! It worked! I know who you are now! You teach me how to... count pints?”

“Counterpoint,” Ivan corrected automatically. Then he frowned. Something was fishy here. This didn’t seem like it was a typical amnesia case. Briefly he wondered if Nickel was playing a prank on him. But he dismissed that thought. He knew Nickel, he had him in his class. He wasn’t imaginative enough or ballsy enough to pull off this sort of thing. No, someone had gotten to Nickel and was using him to make fun of Ivan. Ivan looked around, trying to spot any hidden cameras. He didn’t find any. Grumbling to himself, he said, “Look, I’ll be right back, I’ll get you something to wear. Any idea where your clothes went?” Nickel just stared at him blankly. Ivan sighed. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. I’ll be right back.”

As Nickel watched Ivan walk away, a curiously sad sensation washed over his body. He had woken up not knowing where he was, or even who he was, and feeling very lost and confused, and here was this Ivan figure, who not only seemed to know everything about him but also seemed to be taking care of him. Something inside Nickel responded to that, and that part of Nickel couldn’t help feeling sad and abandoned when Ivan vanished into the bathroom. Feeling depressed, Nickel stood up and wandered into the bathroom after Ivan.

Ivan was in the middle of unfolding a red bathrobe when Nickel appeared behind him. “Hi!” he said cheerfully. The feeling had gone away the moment he was in Ivan’s presence again and now he felt immensely relieved and content.

Ivan jumped, not expecting a naked Nickel to appear so suddenly behind him. In such close proximity, he realized that Nickel was a tiny bit taller than him, which was something he had never noticed before. “What are you doing here? I told you to stay put!”

Nickel just grinned, enjoying the vibrations from Ivan’s voice. It was an unusually deep voice and made his skin buzz most pleasantly. “I felt weird sitting there alone, so I went to find you. And I found you!”

“Yeah, well, great.” Ivan felt like he was dealing with a simpleton. What in the hell had happened to Nickel? He suddenly wondered if he should be checking his head for concussions. “Here, put this bathrobe on. I don’t think I have any normal clothes in your size.” All Ivan had was his slacks and his vests and his button-down shirts, all of which were tailored to fit him exactly. Nickel, who was a bit taller than Ivan and had a broader chest, would not fit into any of them.

Nickel draped on the red bathrobe. It was slightly too small for him, but he tied it shut and it stayed closed, which was the important thing, Ivan supposed, even if it did ride up a little too high now and then. Nickel yawned suddenly and stretched, and Ivan closed his eyes for the brief moment when the bathrobe went up to expose Nickel’s balls. Nickel himself didn’t seem to be aware of anything wrong. Ivan mentally pictured the page from the Teacher’s Handbook about the policy of firing teachers who messed around in any way with a student. He might be tempted, damn it, but he wasn’t going to take advantage!

“Come here,” he told Nickel, leading him out of the bathroom and back onto the couch. “I want to test you for concussions. Don’t fall asleep! It might be bad if you do. I’ll go get a flashlight. Stay right here, okay?”

“Okay,” said Nickel, toying with his bathrobe strap. Ivan went away, and Nickel resisted the urge to follow him again. He sat on the couch, feeling very bored and lonely, but Ivan had said not to go to sleep, so he avoided taking a cat nap, even if he really felt like one. He scratched idly at his balls. This weird bathrobe thing was not very comfortable at all. It itched in weird place on his skin, especially down there, and it was making him feel very strange and tingly. Nickel rubbed a hand experimentally on his cock, which responded by beginning to grow and stiffen. A sudden bright flash of memory flashed through Nickel’s head—he had done this before, he had done this a thousand time before, he was in Professor Ivan’s house, he was naked, what was going on, all that he remembered was that man, that white man—and then, as quickly as the memories had appeared, they were gone, shooting off into the darkness of the corners of his mind. Nickel continued to rub his cock. It felt really good, and he was beginning to pant slightly at the sensation. He eyed the arm of the couch. It looked like it was comfortable... Experimentally, Nickel climbed clumsily up onto the arm of the couch so that he was straddling it. He began rubbing himself up and down on the arm of the couch. Oh, it felt very good... He began to increase his pace, gasping at the sensations. The red bathrobe began to untie and slip down one shoulder, but Nickel ignored it and draped his arms around the couch, rubbing his cheek against the cloth as he rode it.

Ivan walked into his living room and met the sight of Nickel, panting and flushed, humping the arm of his couch, his bathrobe barely draped over his shoulder and doing nothing to hide his balls and the rounded cheeks of his ass as he humped frantically back and forth. Ivan yelled, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Nickel froze and turned his head towards Ivan. “Um... I got lonely... Is this bad?”

“Get off my couch!”

“Yes sir!” Nickel scrambled off the couch and sat on the rug, his head hanging in shame. Ivan grumbled and stalked to the couch to examine it.

“Oh look, you left precum stains... wonderful.” Ivan grabbed a paper towel and dabbed at the slight stain. Nickel peered at him worriedly.

“Did I... did I do something wrong? I’m really sorry if I did, I mean, I just felt really odd and...”

“Oh shut up,” said Ivan wearily. “Here, open your eyes wide and don’t blink.” Nickel complied, and Ivan shone a light into his eyes and examined them closely. “Your eyes seem okay to me... Here, stand up.” Nickel did so, his too-small bathrobe hanging wide open. Ivan pointedly ignored it and took the discarded bathrobe strap and laid it out in a straight line. “Try walking on that without falling.” Nickel did as he was told, shooting Ivan a puzzled expression.

Ivan sighed. “Well, I didn’t think you had a concussion anyways, but I was hoping... It would have been an easy explanation, I guess... Oh well. Look, I don’t know what happened to you, but I don’t think it’s safe to let you out to wander the streets. At least, not this late at night...” Ivan pondered briefly what the president of the school would do to him if she learned that Ivan had let a potentially mentally damaged student wander free without supervision and shuddered. “You don’t have your dorm key, do you? I could drive you home.”

Nickel stared at him blankly.

“Oh, right,” murmured Ivan, “you don’t have any clothes... Well... I guess you’ll have to spend the night here and we’ll figure this out in the morning, when everyone is awake and available. Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten dinner yet, so I can make you something too.”

Nickel rubbed a hand on his belly, checking. “Yeah, I think I am.” His hand began to dip down lower.

“Stop that!” Ivan turned quickly from the sight of Nickel playing with himself. “Look, don’t do that, okay? It... it makes me uncomfortable.”

“Sorry.” Nickel quickly let go of his package. “Do you need help with dinner?”

Ivan had a brief mental image of Nickel wearing an apron and nothing else as he bent over to check on a pot of steaming soup. That image was quickly replaced by a more realistic one of Nickel trying to turn on the stove and, in his current ignorant state, failing and instead somehow managing to light his hair on fire.

“Why don’t you set the table,” Ivan told him. “I’ll show you where the plates are.”

Ivan left Nickel carefully laying out plates and silverware on the table in the dining nook and went into the kitchen to boil some rice. Part of him was chiding himself for not getting Nickel to tie up his bathrobe again, but another part secretly enjoyed the sight of Nickel walking around with it hanging wide open. Plus, it was too short anyways to really do a proper job covering Nickel up—you could still see his legs as he walked, the muscles in them bunching up and flexing in a most delicious way. And anyways, Ivan was mature enough to control his impulses, right? As he put the rice into the pot of boiling water, he thought about the Nickel he had grown used to, the shaggy-haired boy sitting in the back of his class and always managing to mess up his assignment in some way or another. The problem with Nickel was that he was exactly Ivan’s type. Ivan didn’t advertise the fact that he was gay at school—it got people like the head of the dining services referring to him as ‘that fucking dandy’ behind his back, and sometimes even to his face, and while this was probably one of the most gay-friendly campuses a person could find, it was still an old habit to not be too open about it. His family... but he didn’t want to think about them right now. Either way, he had responded to Nickel’s presence in his class by pushing him as far away as he could. Singling out his work for criticism in class, avoiding spending any one-on-one time with him... It just got under his skin so much to see Nickel sitting there in class, innocently running a hand through his cloud of black hair while staring absentmindedly out the window.

Ivan tried some of the rice and deemed it cooked enough and turned off the flame. As he took the pot to carry it to the counter, he noticed Nickel quietly standing in the doorway. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” confessed Nickel, “I just feel weird when I’m left alone... I’m sorry if I’m being annoying.”

A small tendril of tenderness awoke in Professor Ivan. His own personal dilemmas aside, Nickel was a boy in trouble and he needed his help. “It’s no problem, Nickel. I’m almost done here. Dinner will be ready in a minute.”

They sat down at the table, a plate of rice with some microwaved stir-fry in front of each of them. “Sorry it’s leftovers,” Ivan apologized as he handed Nickel a pair of take-out chopsticks, but Nickel didn’t seem to notice or mind. Ivan was starved, so he dug in right away, which was why he didn’t notice at first that Nickel picked up his chopsticks and just stared at them, uncertain what to do. Another sudden flash of memories streaking through his mind, and for a moment, he felt this great angry creature rising up to the surface, battling against this blanket of amnesia, struggling to break out (what the hell am I doing here, what’s going on?!) but as it was about to break out and break free, the image of naked white man with dark blue tattoo patterns on his skin swamped the rest of the memories and the man and all the memories dove down deep into his mind, sealing themselves behind layers of thoughts beyond Nickel’s reach. All that was left was the chopsticks, sitting ineffectually in his hand.

“Um. Ivan?”

“Yeah?” He glanced up, his mouth still full.

“I... I’m not sure how to use these.”

Ivan chewed slowly and swallowed. “You don’t know how to use chopsticks?”

Nickel prodded at his rice and stir-fry uncertainty. “I don’t know.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think about it! I just always eat stir-fry with them. Here, I can get you a fork, if you’d like.”

“No! Teach me how to use chopsticks! I’m not dumb, I can learn! Just because I can’t remember some things...”

“Shhh, shh-shh-shh, calm down,” Ivan said, hurrying up from his seat to comfort the upset Nickel. “Here, it’s not a big deal. Look, I’ll show you.” He leaned over behind Nickel and took the chopsticks into his hands, folding Nickel’s fingers over them in the correct position. “You hold them like this...” He was going to say something else, but this sudden close proximity to Nickel faded the words from his mind. He couldn’t help noticing that Nickel’s hair smelled mildly like vanilla. He wondered if it was the shampoo he used. Nickel looked up at him, puzzled by his silence, and met Ivan’s intense stare head-on. Nickel’s breath caught, his eyes dilating as he suddenly found himself swimming in Ivan’s presence as if it was a tangible thing, and he found himself leaning up to Ivan’s face to give him a tentative lick across the cheek.

Ivan leaped back like he’d been shot. “Aah! What did you do that for?”

“I’m, I’m sorry! It just... it just felt like the right thing to do. I dunno. You taste nice.”

Ivan just stared at Nickel, unsure of what to say.

“Look!” Nickel held up the chopsticks. “I think I figured out how to use them!”

“Um. Good job. Here, let’s finish dinner.” Ivan went back to his seat and they finished the stir-fry in silence.

“Do you want me to wash up the plates?” Nickel offered after they were done.

“No, it’s alright, I’ll do it.” Ivan stood up to take Nickel’s plate. “You’d probably end up just breaking them anyways, given your current state...” Nickel’s hand caught his own as he reached for the plate. Ivan stared at it.

“Ivan...”

Ivan looked at Nickel, his expression blank. “Yes, Nickel?

“Can I... I mean... Would you mind if I...” Nickel suddenly lunged forward and licked him again, dragging his tongue down Ivan’s cheek. Ivan jerked back, his hand jerking out of Nickel’s grip.

“Stop doing that!”

“But I like you!” Nickel protested, upset. “You took me in and you took care of me and you made me food and you’re nice! And I like you, and I like the way your skin tastes, okay? I can’t help it!”

“Well, try to contain yourself,” snapped Ivan. He instantly felt bad for his tone of voice, because Nickel looked suddenly very dejected and upset, like a puppy that had been kicked. “Look... I mean, if it bothers you so much...”

“Yay!” exclaimed Nickel, and he jumped up and threw his hands around Ivan and gave his nose a long lick. Ivan almost dropped the plates he was holding but managed to deposit them onto the table before stumbling backwards under Nickel’s happy assault. Nickel kept grinning and licking at his face cheerfully until they had managed to stumble onto the couch, at which point Ivan fell backwards and Nickel landed on top of him. They found themselves in a suddenly much more intimate and silent position and Nickel paused in his licking, his breath catching. Ivan stared intensely at him, their faces mere inches from each other. Nickel’s breath ghosted across Ivan’s face, and he became suddenly very aware of Ivan’s body beneath him, warm and solid and comforting. He leaned in closer and, instead of licking him again, he gently captured Ivan’s unresisting mouth in a kiss. Their eyes closed and they held the kiss for a moment before slowly breaking free, they lips parted. Ivan closed his eyes as all the mental barriers he had built up against taking advantage of his student dropped away, and he opened his eyes, pushed his hand through Nickel’s hair, and then they were kissing again, their lips pressed together, their tongues sliding against each other.

Ivan’s hands slid up the sides of Nickel’s chest, parting the red bathrobe to slip inside and stroke the soft skin, making Nickel’s eyes flutter closed as he shivered in anticipation. Abruptly Ivan grabbed onto Nickel’s nipples and pinched, hard, which caused Nickel to exclaim “Ah!” as his eyes flew open and his erect cock twitched against Ivan’s leg. Ivan wrapped his hands around Nickel’s back and pulled him closer onto himself, so that their cocks rubbed against each other through the cloth of Ivan’s pants and Nickel’s bathrobe. Ivan’s hands snaked down and around to clutch at Nickel’s buttocks as Nickel frantically humped Ivan, mewling with pleasure. Ivan laughed, a deep rumble that sent pleasurable vibrations through Nickel’s body and made him writhe.

“Say something,” he panted at Ivan, “I want to hear your voice!”

“What?” Ivan laughed again, and Nickel moaned, his cheeks flushed. His bathrobe began slipping off, revealing his overheated body underneath. Ivan chuckled. “Does the sound of my voice turn you on?” Nickel just groaned in response and pulled Ivan in for another wet kiss, bringing his hands up to linger tenderly on the sides of Ivan’s face. Ivan broke the kiss and grabbed Nickel by the waist, turning him around on the couch so that his ass was raised up into the air. Ivan grabbed at each of his cheeks, squeezing hard so that when he let go, he could see red marks where his hands had been. Then he parted them with his hands and dove in with his tongue, flicking it around Nickel’s hole, teasing and enticing him and making him gasp. Finally, he plunged it all the way in and got down to tongue-fucking Nickel, who began to cry out with pleasure, desperately humping his professor’s face as he rimmed him.

Suddenly, the amazing sensation of the tongue wriggling around in his ass vanished and Nickel peered back over his shoulder, surprised and disappointed, only to feel the sensation of an erect cock pressing up against his hole. “I’ll go slow,” Ivan murmured, and something about his deep voice sent an erotic thrill through Nickel and made all his muscles relax. The head of Ivan’s penis slipped in without any trouble, and though there was an initial moment of discomfort, the spit and Nickel’s relaxed state combined to fade away the pain and leave only the soft tingling pleasure as Ivan slid himself deeper inside. Suddenly, Nickel cried out as an electric feeling shot through his body, causing his cock to twitch and leak a stream of precum. “Well,” said Ivan, grinning, “I see we’ve found your prostate.” Nickel just groaned in response and pushed back on Ivan’s cock, desperate to get that sensation again. “Easy, pet,” murmued Ivan, taking hold of Nickel’s bucking hips and forcing them still. He leaned over, rubbing his chest against Nickel’s back as he licked his ear and whispered, “How do you want me to fuck you? Do you want it long and slow...” he demonstrated by pulling almost entirely out before sinking back in to land directly on Nickel’s prostate, making him tremble with pleasure, “...or fast and hard...” suddenly Nickel was crying out and the sounds of slapping flesh filled the air as Ivan began pounding hard into Nickel, “...or maybe you’d just prefer a steady smooth pace...” and he began to move back and forth as he finished speaking, his hips driving his cock into Nickel’s tight ass over and over as Nickel moaned and writhed beneath him. He arched up, curving his spine, so that he could lean back and try to capture Ivan’s mouth in a kiss, except he missed and ended up licking at his cheeks instead. Nickel found he liked it, though, and as Ivan continued to drive steadily and forcefully into his ass, making his nerves tingle with burning crackling pleasure that shot white sparks across his eyelids, Nickel panted and moaned and licked at Ivan’s face, adoring him, losing himself to him, letting himself be passionately taken on his professor’s couch.

Ivan increased the rate of his thrusting, beginning to pound into Nickel so hard that Nickel’s ass cheeks rippled and his entire body shook, and if it wasn’t for Ivan’s tight grip on his waist keeping him in place, he’d have fallen off the couch. Nickel’s moans began to turn to screams of pleasure as the sensations increased in scope. Ivan nipped at his exposed throat as he fucked him, panting harshly, and whispered into Nickel’s ear, “I’m getting close, pet. I’m going to shoot a load right into your tight hot ass. How does it feel to get fucked like this, huh?”

“Oh god,” Nickel screamed, “it feels so good!” Ivan’s hand reached for Nickel’s aching cock and began to pump up and down, and Nickel couldn’t hold it in any longer. His balls churned and his cock swelled and the sensations ravaging his body became, if possible, even more intense, and suddenly he was coming, shooting all over the couch, spurting load after load of cum, his ass clenching down tight on Ivan’s cock. Ivan groaned and pounded Nickel right into the couch and screamed as he came too, spilling his seed inside Nickel’s ass.

With a sigh, Ivan collapsed onto Nickel, causing him to land in a pile of his own semen and effectively trapping him beneath his body. Nickel wiggled around a little, enjoying the odd sensation of his cooling semen rubbing against his chest and his stomach. A part of him was worried that it would leave a stain on the fabric of the couch, but most of him was too dazed to bother. He could still feel Ivan’s slowly deflating cock buried in his ass, and he gave it an experimental squeeze. Ivan chuckled and sucked on the back of Nickel’s neck, making Nickel shiver with pleasure as he worked on leaving a nice red mark, marking Nickel as his.

“You know,” said Ivan, “I definitely think you’d better stay the night. Just to make sure you’re okay.”

Nickel sighed happily. “Yeah, I think so too. Also, do you think maybe I should stay tomorrow night too? I mean, just to make sure.”

“Hmm,” murmured Ivan, working on leaving a second hickey on Nickel’s back as Nickel squirmed delightedly beneath him, “I don’t think that’s a bad idea at all.”

Nickel turned around to look at him, his eyes wide open and questioning. “Do you think... do you think that people will mind? I mean, if they find out?”

Ivan didn’t bother looking up from Nickel’s back as he concentrated on leaving his lover’s mark. “Oh hell,” he said, “every professor’s allowed a teacher’s pet, aren’t they? And you sure act enough like a puppy to qualify—mmph!” The rest of his sentence was drowned out as Nickel caught Ivan’s mouth in a kiss and then, for good measure, gave his face a mischievous lick.