Control Issues

By Yourmind123 published July 8, 2018
Summary
Dylan just can't seem to say "No" to his to his boss

Adapted from a straight story by Kenna

Dylan O’Brien looked at the pile of invoices on his desk and smiled. His fellow employees grumbled about the amount of paperwork that went with their jobs, but for him it was a welcome sight. Sure, he figured he would one day have the same attitude, but for now the 22 year old saw the work as a sign that he’d arrived in the real world. Just out of college, the lean redhead had landed a job in the accounts receivable department of a Fortune 500 company and was still excited over his new income and freedom. It made his years of work on his business major worth all the hard effort.

His office was small, but it was a private office, not a cubicle like he’d seen at some of the companies where he’d interviewed. It was just 8 o’clock as he dove into the papers on his desk and started reconciling them with the reports he had printed out. About five minutes later he heard the familiar sound of his boss’ voice as he came down the hall. “Morning, Judy… morning, Danny… morning, Alex… morning, Sandy… morning, Jesse,” he called out as he passed each of the open doors. “Morning, Kyle,” he said as he passed his boss’s office.

He was a short, skinny man in his late twenties, and Dylan had been told he was gay. He didn’t think Kyle acted like it; at least, not like a flaming homosexual. He also didn’t ever make him feel uncomfortable with sexual innuendos or by leering at his body like other gay men did. When he complimented his suit or his hair, he did it without making it sound like a come on. And, he didn’t play favorites. He’d heard him compliment women on their attire as well as the men. Even if he did come on to him, Dylan was never intimidated by Kyle. He was stronger, leaner, and he had at least a head on the guy sizewise.

In the three weeks he’d been at the company, he’d spent most of the time in training, learning what his job was and the peculiarities of how the company did business. Some of the training was done in a classroom setting, but most of it was computer based. He wasn’t surprised then when he received an email from Kyle around 10 o’clock that congratulated him on completing all his training. He had attached a file and asked him to look it over as the last step in his training.

Dylan opened the attachment and stared at it. The word OBEY was prominently displayed on his screen. He scarcely saw the word however as his mind took in the details of the letters. They were colorful letters that seemed to writhe as the colors shimmered, changed, and danced on the screen. He sat motionless, only his eyes moving, for several minutes as his training was completed. The screen abruptly went blank and he started as if jerking awake. The memory of the email faded and he was embarrassed at the thought that he’d dozed off at his desk. He grabbed a tissue and dabbed at the drool that had run out of the corner of his mouth. With a guilty glance at the open door, he hoped that no one had walked by while he was dozing. A quick glance at the clock in the corner of the computer screen told him ten minutes had passed.

He shook his head to clear the stupor from his mind just as his boss walked into his office. His heart sank as he thought that maybe Kyle was there because he’d fallen asleep on the job, though he wasn’t sure how Kyle would know that. But, instead, his boss said, “Cowboys on the rampage.”

“Huh?” said Dylan, certain he’d heard him wrong.

“Cowboys on the rampage,” he repeated as he shut his door.

“What’s that mean?” Dylan asked.

“It’s a code phrase,” said Kyle. “I assume nobody else has been by since you read my email.”

“Email?” He was confused because he’d already forgotten the email and its attachment.

“Good, good,” said Kyle. He smiled broadly at him, apparently amused that he was carrying on a one sided conversation with Dylan. It was like he had a secret. Which, of course, he did.

“What’s the code phrase for?” Dylan asked, returning to the one part of the conversation he understood.

“Specially for you, Dylan,” said Kyle. “Since those are the first words you heard after your final training, those are now embedded as your personal code phrase.”

“I… I don’t understand, Kyle,” said Dylan. He thought he was being rude by deliberately talking around the subject. Recalling that he’d just caught himself dozing, he wondered suddenly if he was purposely embarrassing him about something he’d missed while he was asleep. ‘What’s the code phrase for?”

“Stand up,” said Kyle. Dylan did as he instructed. “Don’t speak,” he added. “Step around your desk and put your feet about shoulder width apart.”

Curious, Dylan stepped around his desk so there was nothing between Kyle and him and spread his feet about 18 inches apart. Despite his command to not speak he wanted to tell Kyle that he was acting odd. But, he couldn’t form the words.

“Now, I want you to keep your feet like that until I say, ‘Good boy,’ understand?”

Dylan nodded, still not in control of his voice.

“I want you to try to move your feet now.”

The young man tried to close his legs, but they wouldn’t move. Or more correctly, his knees moved inwards, but his feet remained planted firmly apart. He tried to step forward, but found himself unable to do that. It felt like his feet were glued to the floor. He looked back at Kyle, wanting to ask him what was happening. All he could manage was raised eyebrows.

“Good boy,” said Kyle and Dylan’s feet came unglued. His eyes bugged out at his boss as he tried to will a question from his lips. What was happening to him? What happened next surprised him even more. He blinked and Kyle was holding a blue collared shirt and a tie as if he’d pulled it magically from the air. “Recognize this?”

Dylan shook his head, then nodded his head.

“Oh, sorry,” said Kyle. “You can speak now.”

“What’s going on, Kyle?” he asked desperately as he regained his voice. His arms feld cold. “What are you doing?”

“Look only at me. Keep your eyes on me. Now, I asked you a question. Answer it,” said Kyle.

“It’s a collared shirt,” said Dylan. “Where’d it come from?” He blinked again and he’d magically produced a pair of men’s shoes and a pair of socks. “Th-those are mine,” he said as he recognized the custom-made loafers.

“How could they be?” asked Kyle.

The young man tried to look down at his feet, but couldn’t take his eyes off Kyle. Instead, he had to rely on the feeling of his bare feet on the carpet. He was wearing no shoes. “What’s going on, Kyle?” a touch of fear entered his voice.

“Check this out,” said Kyle, holding up a dark grey pair of trousers.

A chill went up Dylan’s spine as he recognized the trousers as the one he’d put on this morning. Again he tried to look down, but could not. There was no feel of cloth against his legs. He reached down with his hands and felt his cotton underwear, no longer hidden by the pants. The thought of the shirt came back to him and he ran his hands up his sides, feeling nothing but his wifebeater and his bare broad shoulders. It was Dylan’s shirt that he’d been holding!

“How are you doing that?” asked Dylan, his voice beginning to show fear.

“I told you that you have a code phrase now, Dylan,” said Kyle. “When I say it, you have to do everything I tell you. Wanna see how it works?”

“No, I think you should leave,” he said. “I don’t want to see anymore.”

Kyle smiled and said, “Talk off your undershirt for me, Dylan.”

“Stop, I won’t,” said Dylan forcefully. But, he felt his hands moving down to his waist to pull it off. “Don’t,” he said to himself. “Stop it.” But, his hands wouldn’t listen to his own protests. “What the hell?” he finally said in exasperation as he pulled the wifebeater over his head.

“Now, Dylan, close your eyes, hand the shirt to me, forget that you took it off, and open your eyes.”

Dylan stared at the wifebeater that had just magically appeared in Kyle’s hands. He’d forgotten just as instructed, so his hands reached for his pecs and sculpted abs to verify that Kyle was holding his undershirt. He wrapped his hands around himself as he began to feel cold. “Kyle, what the fuck is happening?.”

“OK, here’s the tricky part,” said Kyle. “I want you to remember that you just took off your undershirt and handed it to me and remember that I told you to forget about it.”

The confused redhead suddenly saw what was going on. Like he was a third party seeing the events unfold all over again, he remembered taking off his wifebeater against his will and giving it to Kyle. He remembered forgetting about that on his command and the confusion he’d felt as he’d seen it appear in his boss’ hands with no explanation. “Oh my God,” he said as his predicament sank in. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

“Surprise,” said Kyle as he twirled a pair of black briefs on his finger.

“Shit,” said Dylan as he realized he’d just done it again. Though he had no recollection of removing his briefs, he still remembered all about his undershirt and knew it had happened again. He reached to cover his exposed penis, but his hands wouldn’t move. They were on top of his head and Kyle’s eyes ran up and down his naked form. It was a nightmare come true as he could do nothing but pose for his boss, waiting for his next command.

“Now, for the intelligence test,” said Kyle. Dylan felt queasy as he saw the sinister smile on his face. He was his plaything, totally under Kyle’s command and he was going to toy with him despite any objections he had. “First, I want you to get hard for me.” Dylan gasped as his 7” dick slowly began to become erect despite the fact that he was not aroused at all. “When I say go, I want you get down and start doing pushups for me. You’ll do that until I say, ‘Good boy,’ just like with the feet. But, the test is this. I’m going to make you forget that I’m the only one that can stop you. Forget that I have a phrase that will let you stop. Then, you have to figure out how to stop. So, how long will it take you to realize that I’m the master and you’re my puppet?”

“You’re a sick freak,” said Dylan.

“Oh, I’m just a guy enjoying himself with a special talent. So, forget about how to stop and, ready, set, go.”

Dylan got down and started doing push ups. His hands were firmly on the ground and his hard cock scraping the soft carpet each time he went down. Kyle’s eyes moved up and down in rhythm to Dylan’s body. He let him bounce for a few seconds and then said, “OK, you can stop anytime you want.”

Dylan kept going. He wanted to stop, but he couldn’t. His mind struggled to control his body, but to no avail. “Anytime you’re ready,” said Kyle again. “Just stop and stand still.”

“I can’t,” said Dylan. “I just can’t.” His face showed the intensity of his mental effort as he fought against the control of his mind. Despite all his efforts, he kept up a steady rhythm of pushups, his muscles contracting and releasing as he started to sweat.

“I like watching the sweat roll down your chest, stud,” said Kyle. “I could stand and watch this all day. In fact, I will stand here and watch you until you figure out how to stop.” He paused for a few seconds, wondering how long it would take the college graduate to figure out the puzzle. “Come on, hot stuff, you can figure it out. There is a way that you can stop. Figure it out.”

Dylan kept doing pushups even as Kyle walked around behind him. “Nice ass, babe,” said his boss. He knelt down and gave it a hard slap. “It bounces pretty nice, too.”

“Please, I can’t stop,” said Dylan. “You’re making me do this and I can’t stop.”

“Let’s put some excitement into the deal,” said Kyle. “If you don’t figure it out in two minutes, I’ll have you on your knees and sucking my cock. How’s that sound? If you figure it out, you can put your clothes back on and go back to work.”

“Dammit, I can’t stop,” said Dylan.

“Hmmm, can you say cocksucker?”

“Yes,” he answered, unable to resist. “Cocksucker. Please, God, don’t make me do that.”

“I won’t make you do it, if you can show me some intelligence. Or are you just a pretty face and a nice set of abs? Any brains in there? Figure it out.” He walked back in front and crouched down, his face just inches from Dylan’s. His eyes went down to Dylan’s chest and then back to meet his eyes. “Ninety seconds until you blow me, stud. Make it stop or else.” He amused himself by watching the mental torment reflected in Dylan’s eyes. “Sixty seconds,” he said. “You have done blow jobs before, I hope.” When he said nothing, he changed it to a question and he could not refuse to answer him. “Have you done blow jobs before?”

“No, you faggot,” he spat out angrily.

“Can you deepthroat me?”

“No.”

“Guess again, cutie. You’ll do it when I tell you to.”

“Oh, God, fuck no,” he moaned.

“Thirty seconds.”

“How can I stop?” he said, wanting to scream it at him. “How can I? You’re making me do this? You control me. I can’t do it.”

Kyle said nothing. Dylan was so close to the answer, but his time was running out. He imagined Dylan’s face nuzzling up to his crotch, red stubble scratching his balls. Against his will he’d give him the best blow job he’d ever given anyone. And Kule would enjoy it more because he’d be doing it against his will, amazing himself with his oral ministrations even as he rebelled against the idea.

“Fifteen seconds,” he said, enjoying the suspense.

“Fuck you,” said Dylan, desperation setting in. He had the same image of himself kneeling before him and tonguing his cock even though he would hate the idea. Then, the answer came into his head. “You can stop me, Kyle. That’s what you want? Me to ask you? Please, let me stop. Say whatever you have to say. What is it? Cowboys on the rampage? Good boy? Please, let me stop.”

“Good boy,” said Kyle with seconds to spare. He smiled at his as he came to a stop. “There are some brains in there, aren’t there?”

“Can I get dressed now?”

“Not until after you suck me off,” he said.

“Oh, no,” he said with confidence. “I made it in time. You can’t make me do that.”

“Oh, sweetie,” said Kyle. “I’ll make you do whatever I want. I’ll make you suck me off and then forget that you sucked me off. That way, every time I promise you that you won’t have to suck me off, you’ll fall for it. And every time you suck me off, you’ll feel the same betrayal.” He mocked the surprise in his face. “Hey, wait a minute, you can’t make me suck it, I did what you told me to do. Hey, wait a minute, that’s what happened last time, too. Hey, wait a minute, I suck you off every time, don’t I?”

“You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

“Keep your hands on your head, kneel down, and open wide,” said Kyle. “You think I’m kidding? Suck my cock, bitch. And I want my balls banging on your chin, every inch of my dick down your throat.”

Dylan pushed his face forward as his boss freed his cock. He engulfed his cock as he’d never done before, feeling the swell of his 8-inches press against the back of his throat, past his gag reflex, then sliding back out. His eyes opened wide in surprise at his accomplishment and then he settled down to a smooth rhythm of sucking.

You've created tags exclusively for this story! Please avoid exclusive tags!
Rating
Hot
Mind control
Wanking material
Writing
Idea