The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

When Professor Ivan came home from work that same evening, the sight that greeted him was Nickel straining and grunting on the carpet, curled up, his head hovering over his thighs as he tried to lick at his own balls. Nickel did not hear Ivan close the door or walk up behind him, so when Ivan reached a hand to tickle at Nickel’s ears, Nickel gave an enormous shout of surprise and lost his balance. He ended up in a naked heap all over Ivan’s polished black shoes.

“Hello!” he said. “You’re back from work!”

Ivan scratched Nickel behind the ear and enjoyed the blissful spaced-out expression that quickly spread over Nickel’s face. “Yes I am. Were you hungry? Trying to feed yourself a treat?”

Nickel just murmured nonsense in reply, his eyes closed in bliss. He’d gone into a puppy-like pleasure trance. Ivan smiled and continued scratching. He’d noticed that Nickel was growing increasingly playful and scatterbrained, in a way that reminded him of a two-month-old golden retriever—except the body remained that of a horny male in his early twenties with shaggy black hair and long black lashes that were currently fluttering in bliss.

He knew that all he had to do was shift his fingers down to Nickel’s pulse point and his eyes would pop open, his eyelids dilating from sexual pleasure, his tongue hanging out in a pant. And if he shifted his fingers under his chin—just so—to tilt his face up, Nickel would stare at him, silently begging him with earnest desperation for Ivan to grab him by the waist, flip him over and take him right there on the carpet, give Nickel rug burns on his knees as he panted for breath, as Ivan’s buttons popped as he pulled his shirt apart the way he was pulling it now, a growl in his throat. Nickel mewled and raised his ass higher as Ivan popped a bottle of lube out of his pocket and slid a lubed finger inside Nickel’s ass, stretching and preparing him, delighting in the soft cries coming from Nickel’s throat with every nudge of his finger.

“Who’s my little puppy?” Ivan murmured into the flesh of Nickel’s back as he licked his way down his spine, grasping Nickel’s ass so tightly with his hands that his fingers left little red marks on the skin. He slid his cock into Nickel’s ass, slowly, inch by inch. Nickel whined and groaned and thrust back against him, his toes curling.

“That’s right,” Ivan murmured, sinking all the way in, “you’re my little puppy,” and Nickel could only whimper and whine in response.

Friday evening!

It had been a very long week.

The musical scores were returned to the library. The homework was mostly done. I was humming with contentment at the thought of the next two days. Already I could hear a sort of buzz across campus as people trudged home from the last classes of the evening and began to congregate in each others rooms for some music and booze. It was pre-gaming hour.

I was in Alana’s room, perched on her dresser, clutching a warm can of beer in my hand and waving cigarette smoke out of my face, just as Kevin stumbled into the room and plopped down right next to me. I hadn’t seen Kevin outside of class for over a week, not even in the dining hall. I did my best to shut out the image of him wriggling around in class with a dildo hidden in his ass. “Oh,” I said. “Um. Oh boy. What do you know! Isn’t that something?”

Kevin stared at me.

I tried again. “Hi Kevin, what’s up?” Kevin didn’t say anything in response. Well. This wasn’t awkward at all.

I noticed that Kevin’s face was still flushed, which was unusual. He was normally so pale. But then again, he was also normally so asexual. And, as I’d discovered when I’d walked in on him, ‘normally’ wasn’t quite cutting it anymore. I was glad he hadn’t spotted me during his self-pleasuring session. That would have been unbearably awkward, though only slightly less awkward then him staring at me now. Finally he said, “Why are you wearing antlers?”

Oh.

So that’s why he was staring at me.

“Oh, you know,” I said, “I had this bet going on with Yamir... I said that I’d have to sprout antlers for Brandon to leave me alone and Yamir said he’d bet me five dollars that it wouldn’t work.”

“You think it’ll work?”

“No.” I sighed. “I really don’t. But then again, Yamir said he’d pay me twenty dollars to do it anyway, and if Brandon hit on me, he’d thrown in an extra ten. Gotta pay off those college loans somehow...” I took a swig from my beer. “And I figure it’ll fit in with tonight’s party theme, right? Wild Versus Mild? Kevin, are you feeling alright? You look really tired.”

“Nah,” he replied and grabbed his own can of beer and chugged it in one go. “Just dehydrated,” he explained as he wiped foam off his upper lip.

I just stared at him. “Uh-huh. Drinking beer is definitely how to solve that problem. Maybe you should see the nurse?”

“No!” He glared at his empty can. “It’s stupid. And embarrassing. I just don’t really feel comfortable with the idea of someone touching me at the moment.”

I took a gulp of beer so that I wouldn’t have to say anything in reply. Especially not something like ‘You sure didn’t seem to have that problem earlier!’ or something like ‘Say, did you REALLY have a dildo inside of you during class?’

Luckily I was spared having to come up with any sort of reply, because the door to Alana’s room opened again to permit another crowd of people, and amid the cries of “Heeey!” and “YO JACKIE, GIVE ME A HUG!” and “Mary, I think you’re drunk as fuck,” I could hear Yamir shouting a polite hello to someone. I glanced up. There he was, hand in hand with Adam. Adam had apparently also dressed for the Wild Versus Mild party, naturally going for WILD, as in, a rap music video. He looked like he’d punched out one of the female backup dancers and stolen her clothes. He had one of those square baseball caps tilted to the side, and some mesh vest that hung open and just barely managed to cover his nipples. Not to mention a pair of purple lycra booty-shorts so short I was surprised his balls weren’t flopping out. And, since he was wearing his infamous pair of stiletto heels, the result was that Adam looked like he was composed ninety-percent out of leg, leg, and more leg. I don’t think I’d ever noticed before how nice Adam’s legs were, but Jesus Christ, he’d give Louis XIV a run for his money. He still had that bracelet around his ankle too.

No, wait. There were two bracelets now. One for each ankle. That was odd and seemed unnecessary.

“Hey Billy,” Yamir smirked at my antlers, “mind if we sit here?”

“So long as you don’t mix up the salad fork with the dessert fork and embarrass all our rich relatives,” I replied on default. I scooted over, and Yamir and Adam planted their butts on Alana’s dresser too. Yamir was obviously reveling in all the craned necks and looks that Adam—or more like, Adam’s legs—were getting. And Adam had changed his movements again to match his outfit. His shoulders rolled as he made his way through the crowded room, and when he sat down, he cracked his neck. White-boy gangsta. I rolled my eyes. It figured, I guess, that Adam lacked the imagination to do much besides recreate awkward stereotypes. Even if they were awfully convincing stereotypes.

Adam had barely finished rolling his neck when Brandon popped up, right on cue,, leather jacket and shades and stupid combat boots and all. “Yo, daddy-o! What’s baking WOAH um hey is it Christmas season already?”

I glared at Yamir. “Didn’t you hear, Brandon? Scientists say that fake antlers are the most powerful pest repellent known to man. Though apparently, not powerful enough.”

“That’s crazy, man,” Brandon said as he tried to fit onto the dresser as well, without much success, “I should tell my aunt so she can get a pair for her cat. That thing is always getting fleas.”

Suddenly Adam screamed “FUCK THE SYSTEM!” and pounded his fist into the wall. The whole room turned and looked at us. After a minute, someone who sounded really high muttered “right on, right on man...” and the room laughed and went back to ignoring us. Adam didn’t seem to realize he’d done anything strange and continued to smile at Yamir.

“Uh, yeah...” said Brandon, dusting imaginary lint off his jacket. “I’m sure you and the system can work something out...” He leaned across Kevin and simpered at me, “And hey, Billy, if you find me after classes, I bet we’ll be able to work something out too...”

“Delete your account,” I told him and took a sip of my beer.

“Aw, c’mon! Why do you have to be like that all the time! It’s not like I’m asking that much—”

“SHIT’S GONNA GO DOWN!”

The whole room turned to look at Adam again. He was scratching an itch on his shoulder, unconcerned by the stares. I glanced at Yamir. He seemed equally perturbed. He also had a spot of foam on his lip from his beer. “Uh, Yamir,” I said, pointing, “you’ve got something on your...” I didn’t complete my sentence, because before Yamir could do anything, Adam had leaned over and licked off the foam with his tongue.

“Mmm-mm, honey mustard,” he said, licking his lips, “I love licking mustard off my honey.”

“Okay,” I said, starting to get up from my seat, “That does it. I need to go do homework. Or drink something a lot stronger, somewhere else. See you guys at the main party, maybe.”

Yamir shot me an apologetic look. “But you didn’t finish your beer!”

“I’m slimming. Jenny Craig, my friend.”

“Fuck Craig,” Adam mumbled into his can.

I began to fight my way through the crowd of increasingly tipsy students, trying to get to Alana so I could say hi before leaving. By the time I’d managed to make my way to her, Kevin had slipped out of the room, and Brandon was scowling at Adam, who was sitting in Yamir’s lap and sucking on his finger. Yamir seemed extremely surprised by this, to give him his credit. “I got some beer on my fingers,” he was explaining to a curious girl, a little out of breath from Adam’s ministrations. I just shook my head and rubbed my forehead, hoping I wasn’t getting a headache. As I glanced down, I once more noticed the bracelets tied to Adam’s ankles, winking at me from across the room. The one that said YAMIR’S BOYFRIEND must have been on the other side, because the one I was looking at said YAMIR’S FUCKTOY. I raised my eyebrows.

Alana laughed at me as I stumbled through an apology for leaving so soon. “No worries Billy. How’s the gay mafia treating you?”

“Gay mafia!” I puffed out my chest, mock-offended. “My friends and I are totally respectable and diverse citizens of this campus! We don’t just hang out with other gay guys! Whatever gave you that impression!”

Alana rolled her eyes and adjusted the snake bracelets on her arm. “The sexual tension makes me want to vomit.”

Now I was actually offended. “There isn’t sexual tension! Unless you count Adam and Yamir at the moment. And I think that’s just tension. Or maybe just sexual. It’s hard to tell.”

This was the moment when Brandon chose to shout “BILLY, YOU’VE GOT A GREAT ASS! WE SHOULD GET DRINKS, I’M TELLING YOU!”

I groaned into my hands. Alana laughed her head off and pushed me out the door. “Okay, okay, I’ll see you at the party, Billy, don’t get too fucked up!”

At least now Yamir owed me thirty bucks.

Michael was at the coffee shop in town. It was near closing, but he hadn’t noticed. This was what Michael needed right now: to be away from all things familiar, away from the campus readying itself for a debauched Friday night, to be alone with his coffee, and his thoughts.

His mind turned to Ned. He had finally convinced Ned to go all the way with him and... well, physically speaking, it had been amazing. He had to admit that part of it was because it was Ned who was twisting and moaning beneath him; he had wanted to do that for so long, to make HIS face twist into those expressions and make HIS mouth gasp those sounds.

His Ned.

So why did he feel so bothered? Michael was not introspective by nature, nor particularly empathic. But during the evening, Ned’s thoughts had imprinted temporarily on the surface of his brain. Something about having his lover’s mind pressed like that against his own had... well, it had triggered something inside of him that had always been there, but dormant and passive.

Whatever that thing was that had been triggered, it was making him feel really strange about the whole thing. Ned mattered to him. But Ned had enjoyed himself, right? So what was the problem?

Oh, sure, he didn’t think it would have happened without a little finger-coercion on Michael’s part. But then again, when he had done it on Kevin, that guy had been willing enough even after the mind-meld had faded. But Kevin was oversexed these days... He would have been willing regardless. That wasn’t really a good example. But Ned had enjoyed himself after a little prompting from Michael, so maybe it wasn’t that different from what he had done with Kevin.

He made a face as he drank his now-cold coffee. Time to get back to the campus, to pay Ned a visit. As he walked up to the dorms and grinned at the different genres of music pouring from each window, he noticed that there were a lot of young saplings bursting out of the ground. Had the college’s gardeners gone on a planting spree? It wasn’t the right time of the year for that... Weird. Michael walked past the young linden trees and knocked on Ned’s door.

After a minute of waiting, he knocked again.

He was about to knock a third time, not really expecting an answer anymore, when the door swung open and revealed Ned on the other side, looking red-eyed and rumpled and exhausted. “Before you ask,” said Ned, “I have NOT been playing video games for five hours straight without wearing my glasses, that is most definitely NOT why my eyes look this red.”

Michael looked at him quizzically. “Well, that sure convinced me. What happened, did you try to take a nap and have that tractor nightmare again?”

“What tractor nightmare?”

“You know, the one where you’re chained to the ground and this tractor is running over you really really slowly while ‘It’s A Small World After All’ plays in the background...”

“Jesus Christ, Michael, I haven’t had that dream in years! Big thanks to you for reminding me of it.” Ned shuddered. “No, I just... something felt off, I suppose.” He peered at Michael a little blurrily. “I did take a nap. I feel like I’ve been asleep for years, or something. My head felt kinda messed up.”

Michael looked away guiltily. After a moment of awkward silence, he said “Mind if I come in?”

Ned stepped aside, and Michael entered.

The dorm room certainly looked as if Ned had not only been unable to nap, but hadn’t planned on sleeping for the next week. It was nearly midnight, and the room smelled pungently of coffee. Judging by the discarded plastic coffee bags by the trash can, it was all he was drinking at the moment. A line of unopened coffee bags sat on the table, waiting for their turn with the coffee-maker. There were several plates on the counter, each filled with a different type of stir-fry. Michael bit his lip with worry. Mass-cooking was only something that Ned did when extremely stressed or upset. The last time he’d made this many stir-fries in one go was when his grandmother had died.

“What’s going on, Ned?”

Ned pushed his hair out of his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the crap. You look like shit. You apparently don’t plan to sleep for the next week. And all those stupid vegan stir-fries—”

“They’re not stupid. They’re efficient and healthy and full of vitamins and protein.”

“Yes, yes, whatever, the point is that you’re upset about something. Do you want to talk about it?”

Michael could see that Ned was still hesitating, not wanting to say anything, so he sighed and came close to Ned. “Come on,” he said quietly, “you can tell me,” and he reached for Ned’s hand. Ned jerked his fingers out of Michael’s reach and Michael took a step back.

“It’s me? You’re upset because of me?”

Ned swallowed unhappily. “I don’t know, Michael. It’s just... It’s been a difficult night. I think I need some time to think about it.”

“Do you... do you regret what we... you know...”

Ned wrinkled his forehead. “I mean... I don’t think so? At least, I remember enjoying it while it happened...” He bit his lip in thought. “But... Oh god, Michael, I just don’t feel like myself, that’s all.” The expression on Ned’s face broke all of Michael’s resolve and, without thinking, he reached out and pulled Ned into a comforting embrace. At first Ned stiffened, but soon he relaxed into Michael’s arms.

The moment did not stay Hallmark for very long since, to Michael’s bemusement, Ned was beginning to rub himself against Michael’s leg and it was pretty damn obvious that he was stiff as a board. “Jesus Christ,” Michael murmured, “you’re a horny little bugger today, aren’t you...”

“God Michael,” Ned murmured under his breath, his eyes closed, “I’ve been terrified of shutting my eyes all night because there’s this thought in my head, like some foreign mosquito injected there and when I close my eyes it feels like it’s taking over and oh god all I can think about...” Ned moaned and didn’t finish his sentence.

“Yes?” said Michael, putting a large hand on Ned’s neck and bringing his face closer to his own.

“All I can think about...” Ned whispered, and opened his eyes to look at Michael. His pupils were dilated, blown out like ink spilled into his irises. Again he didn’t finish his sentence, instead preferring to moan and wrap his arms around Michael’s torso, burying his face into Michael’s neck and taking greedy snatches of breath, taking in Michael’s scent. “Oh god, Michael, I want you to fuck me so much...”

Michael’s cock sprung fully hard at these words, and he grabbed Ned’s hair at the back of his head and pulled him into a deep kiss. The moment his tongue entered Ned’s mouth, he was swimming again in Ned’s thought, the familiar lovely mind of his Ned, and there it was, that alien thought that Ned had mentioned. Michael recognized it right away, like some distorted reflection of himself—or was it simply that his own self-conception that was a little too polished and flattering, and here he was looking at the real thing, twisted and satyr-like, no pulled punches? Somehow his carnal lust had transmitted itself during the moment of orgasm and fried onto Ned’s brain.

Michael pulled out of the kiss, disturbed. Ned didn’t seem to realize anything had changed and continued to gaze at Michael with aching lust. Slowly, he sank to his knees and began unbuckling Michael’s pants. Michael relaxed a little. This was a position he was used to—Ned loved to give head, after all—and the familiarity of it soothed him and let him forget what he had just seen burned into his boyfriend’s brain.

As Ned lovingly took Michael’s cock into his mouth and began swirling his tongue as he bobbed up and down on the rock-hard shaft, Ned’s thoughts bloomed once more before Michael’s eyes. ’Oh yeah,’ thought Michael, ’just like that... Lick my balls a little too...’ and sure enough Ned slid off Michael’s cock and wrapped his lips around Michael’s balls, sucking on them one by own, fluttering his tongue against them, gently tracing patterns on them. Michael was going insane from pleasure.

Ned soon returned his ministrations to Michael’s cock, and again there was that map of Ned’s thoughts, but Michael tried to ignore it, to just focus on the pleasure that was being willingly given. That was why he did not notice, at first, that Ned had unbuckled his own pants, and it was a surprise to Michael when he glanced down to see Ned, eyes closed, gently fingering himself as he sucked Michael’s cock. It was such an incredibly hot sight that Michael nearly blew his load right there. Ned pulled off of Michael’s cock just in time and panted up at him. “I want you inside of me. I want to feel you sinking into me inch by inch, I want—I want you fucking my ass so badly, oh god, Michael, I can’t stand it—”

Michael picked up Ned and carried him to the couch, both of them discarding clothes as they went, till Ned was dropped onto the loveseat, naked, landing on his back. Michael grabbed the lube from its place on the bookshelf and Ned spread his legs wide in anticipation, his knees hitting the loveseat on either side of him. Michael smiled, pressed a kiss to Ned’s nose and pushed into Ned, pressing down with his body so he sunk fully, heavily into the tight heat. Ned groaned desperately and Michael began fucking him in earnest. The loveseat jerked with every thrust, scraping across the wood floor as Michael pounded in his overheated, desperate boyfriend.

“Fuck, Michael... Oh god don’t stop—ah! God, FUCK, harder oh please harder!” Michael grinned and nipped at Ned’s exposed throat, pounding his hips as hard as he could against Ned’s ass, driving his cock in deep. On a whim, he threw a hand over Ned’s mouth to muffle him and held it there he drove his cock repeatedly into Ned’s ass. His thighs tensed with each thrust. Ned’s wild expression was what caused him to topple over the edge, the way his hair was sticking up from the sex, the way his lips moved wordlessly against his palm, the way his eyes stared unseeingly past Michael’s face. Michael closed his eyes and came, burying himself deep into Ned.

He held himself up with tensed arms, even after the last shudder of orgasm, just so that he could look down on Ned afterwards, still impaled as he was on Michael’s cock. Ned was gasping softly. He was coming as well, in a thick white mess all over his chest. His cock lay hard on his belly, angled slightly to the right, pulsing as it expelled its last few drops of cum.

Michael pulled out. Beneath him, Ned looked happy. Content, at least. Post-orgasmic. This was the way things were supposed to be, right?

Michael ran a finger down Ned’s cheek. “Hey...”

Ned’s eyes fluttered open. He stared up at Michael in a daze. His expression looked almost frightened.

Michael slipped his finger into Ned’s mouth. Ned accepted it unthinkingly and as Ned’s thoughts bloomed again in Michael’s mind, Michael added another intrusion. This one said ’Relax... Don’t try to fight it... Take a nap, catch up on sleep, accept my thoughts as if they’re your own...’ He could feel Ned’s free will slipping away, physically feel it flowing against his mind. It was like he was making a hole in the bottom of a paper cup, and all the water was pouring out of it. Ned’s expression grew less dazed, more simple and lustful. Now, when Michael felt Ned’s thoughts against his brain, there was far more of that distorted-Michael feel to them than there was of Ned himself.

Michael thought at him, slipping the thought into Ned with his finger, ’You’re so tired, aren’t you...’ and Ned instantly closed his eyes. In seconds he was asleep.

Michael pulled his finger out of Ned’s mouth. He gathered his clothes and pulled it on. When he left, he tried to close the door behind him as quietly as he could.

It was a nice night. There were even more linden saplings poking out of the ground than there had been half an hour ago, but Michael did not notice. He took a seat on the steps in front of Ned’s dorm. He watched a moth flutter by. He sat there for a long time, thinking.

Yamir walked hand in hand with Adam as they made their way back to Yamir’s dorm. As soon as they were out of sight of the main campus, Yamir ducked behind the science building, pulling the taller boy with him by the wrist. The moment they were in relative privacy and darkness, Yamir grabbed Adam’s head by the hair and shoved him down to his knees. It was a casual gesture. Adam sank down happily.

Yamir pressed Adam’s face against his crotch, and Adam moaned and rubbed his face against Yamir’s hardening cock, mouthing it through the denim.

Yamir hissed in pleasure. “Fuck, you look hot like that.”

“I’m always hot for you, baby,” Adam replied in a petulant porn-star-flirty voice. He fluttered his eyes closed and began licking his long tongue across the jean-clad bulge, searching with his teeth for the zipper. It didn’t take him long to find it. Yamir’s dick popped out of its constraints and Adam’s tongue slid up and down its surface. Yamir impatiently shoved his pants to his knees and turned around, proffering his ass to Adam. He didn’t even have to say the command—“Rim me!”—before Adam’s tongue was sliding in between his ass cheeks, flickering across his asshole, diving into it and swirling around in a way that made Yamir bit the insides of his cheeks in an effort to keep from crying out.

And then, after a few minutes of this, Yamir abruptly pulled his pants back up. He grabbed Adam by the hand and pulled them both onto the central sidewalk. They continued to stroll innocently past the campus streetlights, as if nothing at all had happened, even though Adam still had saliva all over his face.

This was the part about Adam that Yamir thought had to be his favorite. There was no need for the sexual foreplay if he wanted the sex, but there was also no need for sex if he just wanted some foreplay. It’s not as if Adam would care. All Adam cared about was Yamir—at least, as long as he wore those bracelets. And Yamir loved it. He loved being able to yank Adam into a deserted classroom, have him moaning and whimpering his name as Yamir fucked him for a few minutes. And then, when Yamir suddenly pulled out and zipped his pants back up, Adam would do the same, not saying a thing.

As far as Yamir was concerned, there was no longer a need to rush to the climax. Adam was perpetually available. And Yamir liked how he could do the equivalent of fondling himself when no one was looking, except with Adam’s mouth and ass and fingers doing the fondling. It was only in the privacy of their respective dorms that Yamir bothered to follow through, to keep the erotic play going till it burst into orgasmic climax. By that point, Yamir would have become so horned up from an entire day of playing with Adam that the climax would make his knees buckle as it ripped itself out of his body.

And then, Adam would blink at him, his lashes thick with cum, his expression exactly the same as it always was. Yamir did not wonder where the real Adam had gone. He was satisfied with the impressionable version left behind. Current mode: sex-doll. Target goal: Yamir’s exclusive pleasure.

That was what I walked into, by the way. I guess Yamir had a thing for telling Adam exactly how he was using him. It wasn’t like Adam would care, or listen, or even process the words.

I mean, hey, Yamir owed me thirty dollars. And I needed to give him back his stupid fucking antlers, since I had no intention of wearing them to the party, or even maybe going. And I did knock, I swear it. Not my fault that Yamir didn’t hear it, or that I misinterpreted his loud grunt as ‘Come on in!’ instead of ‘Ugh yeah take my cock.’

It was not the first time that week that I had walked in on someone having sex, but where previously I’d been confused, this time I just couldn’t believe my ears. I knew Adam and Yamir had suddenly hooked up, so them having sex wasn’t such a weird idea anymore. But, opening the door and hearing Yamir say “Yeah, you just do whatever I tell you, don’t you... You turn into whatever you wear, you little toy... And now you’re my toy...” well, hearing him say that was a little disturbing. My first thought was ‘oh boy, kinky!’

My second thought was ‘wait a minute, something doesn’t add up.’

And my third thought was ‘oh god, that is not possible. They’re just being kinky. That’s it. That’s all there is to this.’

What convinced me that there was something really weird going on was the mirror. I could see Adam’s reflection. Yamir’s too, but he wasn’t looking at me. He hadn’t even noticed me come in. He was too busy burying himself balls-deep into his boy toy, his back to the door. But Adam’s reflection was staring straight ahead, a curious, almost amused expression on his face, looking right at me from the mirror but not seeing me at all. What was weird was that I could hear Adam moaning, and as I looked at Yamir’s back and what I could see of Adam, I realized that the reflection wasn’t matching Adam’s body.

Well. Suddenly my insane theory didn’t seem so crazy after all.

Yamir stole a glance at Adam as he wiped himself clean with some tissues. Adam was passed out on the bed, still in the spread-eagled position Yamir had last had him in, a small trickle of cum decorating his asshole. Yamir grinned at the sight.

He pulled a towel around his waist and headed out into the hallway, aiming for the showers. At which point he walked chest-first into me.

“What.” I said. “The. Fuck. No. Seriously. What the fuck.”

Yamir raised an eyebrow. “Billy, when a man and another man love each other very much, sometimes they get naked and—”

“I’m not talking about that. You’re fucking his body but he sure ain’t in there, don’t you think it’s a little fucked up?” Yamir’s face went completely blank, which should have been a warning sign for me, but I plowed on. “I mean, why call him your boyfriend? Just say ‘slavetoy’ or whatever the term would be. ‘Hi mom, dad, I’d like you to meet my slavetoy, we’re very happy together, he love me long time—”

“Billy. Shut up. I need to shower. You want to talk about it? Okay. We’ll talk about it. Even though this is my own fucking private business. You’re my best friend, so we’ll talk. But not like this.”

I sighed, ran a hand through my hair. “Sure. Go shower.”

Five minutes later, we were taking the walk to the woods and the music building, the only really deserted part on campus on Friday nights. Yamir had his hands in his pocket and wasn’t meeting my eyes. “Sure, Billy, I bet it’s easy to get up on your moral soapbox but look, you’d do the same thing. Adam, he doesn’t give a shit, have you seen what he’s like when he’s completely naked? I don’t know what happened to him, but he’s blank without clothing. Mindless. Nothing there. He wouldn’t be able to feed himself, or go to the bathroom. The world’s sexiest human vegetable.”

I groaned. “I’m picturing broccoli in a bikini, thank you for that.” I immediately regretted the joke after making it. This wasn’t really that sort of conversation. And I wasn’t sure if Yamir was telling the whole truth. I felt like he was lying to himself, to make it easier for himself. So I said nothing.

“Whatever.” Yamir didn’t say anything else. We walked in silence for a few minutes. Then:

“Billy, don’t tell anyone, will you?” He looked at me. His expression was anxious. “I really need this.”

Maybe it was how timid he looked. Something snapped inside me, something that I hadn’t even know existed. I found myself shouting, “YOU need this? Jesus, Yamir, there’s something gone seriously weird with Adam, as in, I can’t even quite wrap my head around it right this moment, and you’re asking me not to mention it so that you can get your dick wet?”

“Fuck off!” Yamir shoved me. I stumbled into one of the trees in the music garden, setting off the chimes in its branches. “Don’t be such a asshole! It’s not like he’s got a disease or anything!”

I just shoved Yamir back, an instinctive reaction to being shoved. He fell. I’d pushed him harder than I’d meant. But then he popped right back up and socked me, hard, in the stomach. I went stumbling backwards till I hit the Throne. I hadn’t been in a fight since middle school. I was draped over the Throne, wheezing and outraged and trying to catch my breath.

“Shit.” Yamir’s face looked pale in the light from the porch. “Shit, Billy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

The outrage burst out before I could stop it. “Man up, Yamir! You’re such a little pussy, saying you’ve got all these crazy standards but then you drop your pants for some poor mind-screwed dude who needs a psychiatrist—god you make me sick.” I was yelling, furious, clutching my aching stomach. I could feel the blood pulsing in my face. “You’ll fuck someone who can’t think, can’t judge you, is that what it is? You’re such a goddamn creep, I wish you’d just man up! Grow a fucking pair, okay?”

It was maybe harsher than I’d intended. But I realized as I yelled it that I meant every word.

Yamir just stared at me, face still pale, giving me that bear-in-headlights stare of his, and then he turned around and walked away. I lay on the Throne for another few minutes, clutching my stomach, eyes closed. A linden leaf fell from the tree above me, settled on the back of my neck. I let it lie there for a minute. How the hell did my night turn into this?

Screw the party. I brushed off the leaf and headed home.

Linden was waiting for Yamir the moment he opened his door, of course, but Yamir didn’t know that. If he had been looking up instead of staring at the floor, he would have seen the white hands that reached out of the darkness of his room. As it was, Linden’s hands grasped him by the head and pulled him in so abruptly that he barely had time to shout in surprise. His key clattered to the floor. The door slammed shut.

In the darkness, Yamir could barely make out Adam’s pale form still passed out on the bed, and also, Linden’s white teeth. They were bared in a grin. Linden pressed his mouth against the side of Yamir’s trembling face, his nostrils leaking a pale fog that entered Yamir’s ear and burrowed into his brain. “Oh,” he murmured as Yamir’s consciousness began to fade into white, “we are going to make quite the man out of you...”