Charles continues his development work at the frat.
Disclaimer: This is a work of erotic fiction. If you are under the legal age to read this, or are offended by the idea of male-male sex or mind control, DO NOT read further.
I thought the “Charles” story was short and sweet as it was, but then I got a slew of emails asking for more. (You have to read the first story before reading this one, or it won’t make sense.) I hope I don’t overload the story by dragging things out too far. But I am nothing if not responsive to my readers! (Sometimes :) ) Okay, here it is.
Welcome to this week’s Nu Alpha Kappa house meeting. I want to thank those of you who helped with that little incident with the Brother who had missed the initial hypnotic meeting. When he got back to town, he somehow seems to have gotten the idea that something weird was going on here at NAK, instead of the correct notion, held by all of you, that we are approaching utopian perfection under my absolute rule. Brothers Bob and Bill caught him trying to run out the door, and held him down until we could drug him and put him through the necessary hypnotic conditioning.
Maybe I overreacted a bit to the situation – after all, I was briefly upset and angry – but as a result of my implanted commands, he’s going to find himself forced to come out as transgender, even though he’s not, then he’ll find himself insisting on undergoing a tricky sex-change operation and some intense hormone therapy, and then she’ll eventually join our sister sorority Tau Iota Tau. I sometimes wonder how my twin sister Mistress Joannie is running things over there, but maybe I don’t really want to know.
I’m also glad that Brother Dave got that job as an aide in the Admissions Office. We want to make sure that any super-cute, super-athletic, super-rich, or super-hung dude doesn’t miss out on his chance at the NAK slave experience just because he didn’t have great test scores or grades in high school. After all, a cocky, demanding straight guy makes a great footrest or cum drain when properly broken and trained. For those who look like these possible “special admissions” candidates, we will arrange for special “interviews” in the house hypno-room to see if they’re one of the types we’re looking for. If they don’t make the grade, then they’ll go back home unaware that they have been hypno-programmed as recruiters, seeking out top candidates at their schools for us and sending them here for extensive testing and evaluation.
I want to commend Brother Rudy on his plans to convert the basement recreation room into the slave pit. You slaves know you don’t need or deserve individual rooms or privacy or anything like that. It just gives you the false feeling that you have some personal significance outside of being my playthings and servants. The slave pit will foster a sense of community and shared purpose, that purpose of course being to please and satisfy me and improve my life. Nothing you do is important unless it works towards that end.
I think Brother Rudy needs to recruit another guy from the Architecture School to help complete the conversion of the house to the new standards, including an state-of-the-art media room that can double as our hypno-center; a sizable in-house gym so all of you can be constantly improving your bodies for the benefit of me, their owner; and of course my new set of rooms on the top floor, including baths and whirlpool, the throne room, and particularly the literal master bedroom, fully video-equipped. We also need all the windows in the house replaced with one-way mirrors facing out, so people out there can’t see that I’m the only one allowed to wear clothes anywhere inside.
Brother Rex, your dad is a hedge fund manager. I think he needs to visit us here so he can be “convinced” to fund all this. He makes what, eight or nine figures each year? This is like chump change for him. Besides, I’ve seen photos, he’s an incredible fox for someone who’s 40. And after I’ve squeezed his last load out of him and he’s cried out “Thank you, Master Charles,” then you can have him for the rest of the night and work out any “daddy issues” you might have. You guys kind of look alike, so the resulting video of your night together should make for real fun watching.
Of course there are a few among you who must realize you aren’t good enough for the new, improved NAK. You’re not good-looking enough, or smart enough, or athletic enough to fulfill the frat’s prime directive, which is to cause me pleasure. One or two of you will remain as full time “field slaves” to clean the floors, mow the lawn, deal with the trash, do the laundry, and wash the dishes. The rest will leave, and will forget they were ever at this frat. To reduce outsiders’ suspicions, they’ll take apartments in town together. That will make room here at the house for the new, more desirable slaves needed for my service and enjoyment.
As you know, I may be a strict master, but I am also a very kind and charitable guy. I think that NAK should expand its neighborhood outreach social programs. A new one I have in mind should help many of the shy, repressed gay teens at our city’s high schools, who are afraid to come out, are picked on, or have rarely or never had sex. I call the program “adopt-a-twink”. Some of our largest, hairiest, strongest members should seek out the smallest, femmiest little gay boys at the schools and offer themselves as bodyguards and sex slaves at their feet. In fact, the muscle hunks should BEG the little guys to allow them to serve as their sex toys. That will really help those poor kids gain a bunch of self-esteem, while the muscle hunks will lose whatever residual self-esteem they might accidentally have left.
All right, that ends this meeting. Brothers Bob, Bill, Dave and Rudy are allowed to cum tonight, provided you do it inside each other. Brother Shane, you’re coming with me tonight. We’ll see just how much pain that giant cock and those shopping-bag balls of yours can take. You’d wish you were never born with them, if I didn’t keep reminding you how much enjoyment I get from torturing them. So while you’re writhing in pain, you’ll be simultaneously feeling the most joy you’ve ever felt. That’s an intense combination!
[Again, emails welcome, but reply time may be erratic as I travel for work and can’t bring THIS stuff everywhere!]