Anthology

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places and events is unintentional. Please enjoy in safe and legal manner.

ANTHOLOGY

You are travelling into an alternate dimension. Do not adjust your connection to reality. Here we find a universe of infinitive possibilities, of extraordinary powers and incredible circumstances. Welcome to the Anthology...

Anthology (III) - You're the Boss, part one

Timmy can control minds which is about to come in handy because his dad runs a billion-dollar company and has a fierce, longstanding rivalry with another businessman. Timmy's favourite thing is controlling men and using his powers irresponsibly for sexual gratification. As his father's rival plots to infiltrate the business, have they counted on Timmy's talents?

THE LOST MAN

Bill was looking a bit lost.

"Yes, I think that would be best," he said into his phone.

He spotted a door on the left and headed towards it, hoping it was an office where he could plausibly snoop around. Not that he planned on getting caught in the wrong place, he would head back to the party soon, but in the meantime, it wouldn't hurt to learn a bit more about his employer.

Warren Kotes was one of the wealthiest men in the world and Chairman of Bus Tracks, a manufacturer of vehicles, engines and transport infrastructure. More recently, they had launched a social media platform (BusTraks) that helped to connect commuters on their way to and from work, share advice about routes to different destinations and keep commuters up to date about service disruption. Bill mostly used it to share memes and message friends.

Bill had been lucky enough to get an interview with Mr Kotes for a position in the management team and now answered directly to the Chairman himself. Bill was in his thirties and could hardly believe his luck, so much so that he wondered if there was a catch or, even worse, if they knew Ego-Log had courted him first.

Ego-Log was a completely different kind of business – what had started as an online journal (Ego, your idea or opinion of yourself) and blogging (Log, to put information into written record) site had become one of the biggest social media platforms of the 21ST century.

Ego-Log and Bus Tracks were also fierce rivals – from business level to personal enmity between their bosses. They each competed for the same prestige: most profit for investors, most financial growth, biggest bonusses, highest paid Board of Directors and wealthiest man in the world.

Only one of them could win the final accolade and they fought bitterly over it.

Over the years, each had attempted to infiltrate the other but Ego-Log thought they finally had a winner. Ego-Log had a gifted man who would be innocuous, inconspicuous and covert. There was one thing they weren't counting on...

Bill entered the room on the left and closed the door behind him.

Shit! It wasn't an office – it was a kitchen. It wasn't just a kitchen.

"I think I should call you back," Bill said; "Because I'm lost... I mean busy."

It was a very large kitchen. A fucking enormous kitchen!

Bill listened the voice wittering in his ear; "I'll call you ba..."

"You're not supposed to be in here," said a young voice.

Bill hurriedly hung up and looked towards the counter in front of him; a second later, a head popped up. The head was attached to a body... obviously. Bill didn't mean to stare but he was surprised and the face on the head was incredibly cute.

As he checked the kid out, Bill felt a fog fall over his brain but as he looked through it, he thought he could think quite clearly. Almost.

The kid had a cute round face with sweet brown eyes; his hair short and curly, dark, piled on his head but flopping over his forehead; his ears stuck out just a little; his smile was as excited as a kid on Christmas; his body looked slim but it was entirely hidden by a bathrobe, though his smooth bare chest flirted into view.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," the young man said.

Bill lifted his phone to take a picture.

"No! Don't. I was only joking," the kid laughed but his eyes were serious.

"Sorry," Bill replied.

"You can keep looking though, I insist," the kid flirted.

Was he fisting, Bill wondered? Flirting, he meant flirting!

Bill wasn't sure why he'd thought that; he was straight and uninterested in men from a sexual perspective. Strange. Bill put his phone in his trouser pocket and stepped closer to the kid who was making a sandwich and had an array of ingredients arranged on the countertop. Bill couldn't tell how old he was – his cute wee face made him look younger but he could have been anything from mid-teens to early twenties. Just looking at the kid made Bill's head feel a bit fuzzy, like there was an inaudible buzz in his ear.

"I was at the party downstairs. I was taking a call and I guess I got turned around," Bill said.

It wasn't quite the truth and it certainly wasn't the whole truth.

"My dad has lots of parties. He's having another one next week," the kid said as he spread mayo onto bread.

"Your dad?" Bill asked.

Shit! He had been caught looking like he was snooping around by Mr Kotes' son?

"You've wandered into the house side of the mansion," the kid said facetiously; "I think you're meant to stay in the business end, unless you were looking for me?"

Bill would love to be on the business end of the kid in front of him. Again, Bill was unsettled by sexual thoughts not just because the kid was a he but because he was a kid.

"I just got turned around," Bill said again; he blushed at the thoughts he'd just had.

Even if the kid was in his late teens or early twenties, Bill was over thirty. And Straight.

"Really?" the kid asked.

He sounded dubious because he had been expecting his father's newest employee. The man was a week early but that was ok; Timmy had been assumed he'd have another briefing for such an important mark but he would work with what he knew. How hard could it be?

Bill had stepped closer and now that he could see over the countertop, he could see the kid was barefoot and his legs were bare too – they were adorned with faint wisps of fair brown hair that made his legs look fuzzy like a peach.

"No, not really," Bill confessed; "I was snooping."

Why had he said that? The kid just chuckled and then put away the bread and mayonnaise and retrieved salad and cold meat from the fridge behind him. The kid moves so casually – it was his house after all – but there was something seductive about his movements too.

"My dad wouldn't like that," the kid said.

Bill looked at him in the eyes – his eyes were big, round and brown. They were perfect for his cute and unblemished face. Bill felt guilty – for keeping checking the kid out, for snooping and for getting caught.

"I've never been in a house with two kitchens before," Bill said to change the subject.

"Me neither," the kid replied with a laugh.

Bill chuckled too – he knew the mansion was big, like Bruce Wayne Batman big, but how many kitchens did one home need? More than two, apparently.

"I'm Bill," he said and he offered his hand across the counter.

"Timmy," the kid replied.

Timmy had soft hands. The sleeve of his bathrobe rode up when he reached out so Bill could see a thin, golden-skinned, forearm. His arm was lean and long like his legs and similarly decorated with fair, downy hair.

"Nice to meet you, Timmy," Bill replied.

Timmy's bathrobe was open enough to reveal his chest. There was no hair in sight and his skin was stretched tight over his sternum, emphasising his slender chest.

"Nice to meet you, Bill."

Bill was taller than Timmy, the kid noticed. Bill's hair was short and black; his skin and eyes were dark brown; and in his black suit with white shirt, Bill looked fucking fuckable. Timmy had finished making his sandwich but the moment he'd seen Bill, he was hungry for something else.

Timmy had a thing for older men; he liked cute boys too but there was something about seducing an older man that made him extra hard. Timmy wasn't sure how old Bill was but he guessed the man was twenty years his senior, plus or minus five years.

When their hands parted, Timmy deliberately put his hand on his hip and tugged his bathrobe open. Timmy was wearing a pair of hipster style boxers that created a tight smooth fit against his skin. There was a little lump in the front of the boxers and his ass was hugged by the soft and stretchy material. Timmy could see Bill's eyes trying not to look at him now that more skin was on show but the man seemed unable to look away.

Actually, he literally wasn't able to look away. "You can keep looking though, I insist," Timmy had said to Bill. The implanted instruction was a strong one. Bill felt strange looking at the teenage boy – he was certainly attractive but too young for him even if he was "old enough."

"Why don't you come around here?" Timmy said.

"I shouldn't," Bill replied even as he obeyed.

Bill moved around the counter that separated them; now standing on the same side, he had an even better look at Timmy.

"You like looking at me?" Timmy said but it didn't sound like a question.

None of Timmy's questions sounded like questions.

"Yes," Bill answered but he didn't know why.

Bill felt compelled to look and to please the kid who was a good-looking young man but Bill didn't do that. Bill was straight – a fully-fledged supporter of gay rights, an ally, comfortable around men... but still straight.

"Come and take my robe off," Timmy said; "Tell me you want to see my body."

Bill's head was foggy but his thoughts seemed quite clear... they just weren't quite his thoughts anymore. Except they were. Bill stepped towards the kid and lifted his hands but then hesitated. The skinny kid looked at him with big brown eyes – pretty, warm, humorous and almost mocking eyes.

"How old are you, Timmy?" Bill asked.

"Eighteen?" Timmy replied, inflecting it like a question.

Again, Bill had the feeling that none of Timmy's questions were questions. His words were... hypnotic... powerful... Timmy spied Bill's awareness of this and it vanished almost as soon as it arrived. Timmy's words sounded more like instructions but Bill was no longer aware of the compulsion behind them.

"I want to see your body, Timmy," Bill said obediently.

Bill wasn't sure if Timmy was telling the truth about his age but he found himself believing the kid anyway. Bill swept his hands them across Timmy's gorgeous round shoulders. Timmy's skin was soft and with a satisfying thud the bathrobe landed on the floor around Timmy's bare feet, leaving the skinny kid in just his tight boxer-style underwear.

"Touch me, Bill," Timmy said.

Bill placed his hand on Timmy's right shoulder, drawing it down until his fingers touched the kid's right nipple. Timmy looked so cute as he gently bit his lip and Bill felt encouraged to continue exploring.

Bill had never touched a man like this before. Was eighteen a man? Was Timmy eighteen? Timmy felt soft and warm and Bill couldn't stop touching him. Bill's left hand joined the caress, feeling Timmy down his sides and when Timmy raised his arms to put his hands behind his head, Bill stroked up and into the neat little tufts of hair under his arms. Timmy's pits were as wispy and faint as the hair on his legs.

"You must shave?" Bill asked.

"Probably not," Timmy replied; "You like it that way, don't you?"

"Yes, Timmy" Bill answered without hesitation this time.

Timmy smiled – now he was getting somewhere.

"Get on your knees, Bill," Timmy said and of course Bill obeyed.

BILL OBEY'S

Bill dropped to his knees so he was face to face with the kid's crotch. Bill noticed that Timmy's abdomen was smooth, again but for the faint peach fuzz of hair; there was no hint of pubes poking out of Timmy's underwear and the legs of the hipster boxers wrapped tightly around thighs that had only a faint fluffy spree of downy hair that was almost undistinguishable against the kid's flawless skin.

Bill was still dressed in his best suit, his tie knotted, and now he was on his knees in front of his boss's son. Bill was having thoughts about men that he'd never had before and he felt a guilty throb in his suit pants.

"Kiss my feet, Bill," Timmy said.

Bill looked up at Timmy's sweet face – he was so sweet – yet there was something forceful about him. Bill shifted back, the knees of his suit pants sliding against the kitchen floor, and then bent over and kissed the top of Timmy's feet. One kiss on each.

"More. Keep going," Timmy ordered.

Bill had never had sexual thoughts about males and also never about feet. To each their own, but Bill had never done anything like this. He seemed to be doing a good job because Timmy was making very approving noises and it made Bill happy to think he was pleasing the kid.

Bill kissed each foot again, wetting his lips slightly and feeling his tongue lick the soft skin. Bill's lips pinched the veins on the top of Timmy's feet and his tongue traced the veins up and down.

Timmy's skin smelled clean like the kid had just been in a bath with bubbles and a rubber dick. He meant fuck. No, duck. Rubber duck.

Despite his confusion, Bill carried on – his lips moved up to where the top of Timmy's foot met his ankle and he continued to kiss. His eyes stayed on Timmy's skinny, boyish leg. It was thin and almost lady-like but Bill's eyes found each wispy hair and was reminded that it was not a woman in front of him.

"Use your tongue more, Bill. You want to lick my toes?" Timmy suggested.

The question was an instruction that Bill obeyed without thinking. He licked all the way from Timmy's angle, over the top of the kid's foot; drawing his tongue down the centre, Bill could taste the young skin and feel its heat. At Timmy' toes, Bill kissed each in succession and then, one by one, worked his way back by licking in between each toe. Timmy wriggled his toes as Bill's mouth found each of the five digits.

Timmy giggled – it was a sweet sound and pulled on Bill's mind that he was doing something very strange to a kid who claimed to be eighteen years his junior. Claimed. The thought lodged itself in Bill's head. Bill believed Timmy yet he also had doubts... What if Timmy was lying? What if he was even younger? Twenty years his junior?

"My other foot," Timmy said. "Lick my other toes?"

Bill's resistance was gone again and he moved his face to Timmy's left foot. The kid wriggled his little toes and teased Bill with them. Bill kissed them each as he had with the other foot but Timmy was not content with that so he lifted his foot from the floor and popped his big toe into Bill's mouth.

"Suck it. Suck it like you'd suck..." Timmy laughed; "Something else."

The kid had a dirty mind.

"If you do a good job, I'll let you suck something else," Timmy promised.

Was Timmy suggesting... Bill was straight. Straight, he kept reminding himself.

Bill's lips enveloped Timmy's great toe, sucking on it while his tongue washed around it in his mouth. As suddenly as the demand had come, Timmy withdrew it and he put his foot back on the floor; albeit, his toe was moister than before.

"Bill, look at me," Timmy said.

Bill looked up and saw that Timmy had a phone in his hand. Was he recording? Was this kid really recording a fully dressed older man on his knees in front of a teen in his underwear? Fuck. Bill's head was grabbed by the kid who pushed it into his groin. Bill's nose and mouth were enveloped with soft underwear fabric, sweet and freshly washed skin and the faint aroma of musky sweat.

Bill could smell Timmy's teenage crotch.

Bill's face was aware of the soft lump in front of his nose and mouth. With Timmy's hand on the back of his head, Bill nosed the stubby bulge and his mouth opened and closed around the fabric covered genitalia. The fabric was getting wet from Bill's drool as his face was smothered with the kid's penis and testicles.

"You like that, don't you?" Timmy said.

Bill mumbled into the youngster's musky crotch. His mouth was soaking the tight, dick-filled boxers with slobbering mess. Bill couldn't stop himself tasting the teenage spirit – a mix of accidental penile emissions from throughout the day.

"It's making you hard, Bill," Timmy teased the kneeling man.

Bill did like, even if he was straight; he wasn't hard but he wasn't soft either. Bill didn't answer and he realised he hadn't spoken for a while because his mouth had been busy with a boy's crotch. He was helped in the task by Timmy's hands clamped to the back of his head. Bill breathed heavily though his nose, feeling hot exhales against Timmy's crotch that blew back across his face and heightening the aroma of penis until it was all he could smell.

"Do you want to see it?" Timmy asked, releasing Bill's head.

Bill looked up and Timmy smiled adorably.

"Are you recording this?" Bill asked worriedly.

"Yes," Timmy answered.

"Why?" Bill asked.

"Because you shouldn't be in here. You were snooping and..." Timmy stopped before he said too much; "Let's focus."

Timmy thrust his cloth covered crotch towards Bill again; rubbing his stinky groin all over Bill's face and then focussing on Bill's weak mind.

"Do you want to see my dick, Bill?" Timmy asked.

"I'm straight, Timmy," Bill replied.

Timmy grinned, even more excited than he had been a moment ago. He'd been pushing against Bill's mind, which was much easier to control than he'd been expecting. Timmy always loved when a straight man said those words – usually right before Timmy compelled them to suck cock or taste his ass.

"That doesn't mean you're not curious," Timmy said seductively; "It's ok to want it, Bill. Say you want to see my little dick."

"I want... Timmy... I want... to see..." Bill said as he looked up at the beautiful boy who was still recording everything.

His mind was foggy and confused. He wanted to say he was straight and this was all a big mistake and no offense but he didn't want to look at an eighteen-year-old's penis. Yet, Bill felt compelled to please the kid and desperately wanted to see inside his underwear but was that right? Should he? Could he? Would he?

"Say it, Bill," Timmy repeated; "Say it."

"I want to see your dick, Timmy," Bill said.

Timmy laughed out loud and hooted with happiness. Bill blushed and felt ashamed that he'd just asked to see it – on camera no less.

"More," Timmy said greedily – compelling Bill to continue expressing longings that were not his own.

"I want to take your underwear down... slowly. I want to see you naked, Timmy," Bill said.

To Bill's horror he couldn't stop himself saying more.

"I want to put my face between your legs, Timmy. I want to touch you. I want to make you hard and... and..." Bill couldn't stop himself.

"And what, Bill?" Timmy demanded as he filmed the suited man on the floor.

"Timmy, I want to suck your cock," Bill confessed.

"Put your hands on my hips. Take my underwear off very slowly," Timmy told Bill.

Bill's hands were on Timmy's hips in a second and then froze there. With agonising anticipation, Bill pulled on the waistband of the hipster boxers. He watched the bulge that was denting the front, which had subtly grown; gradually the dent released from the front of the boxers as the front pouch receded from the main prize.

More and more skin revealed itself as the waistband of the underwear got lower. The kid had silky smooth sink below his bellybutton that ended a few inches above his penis. Looking at the pubes of another man so close up was a strange experience for Bill.

Timmy's wiry pubic hair was unlike anything the heterosexual man had ever seen. Bill's hands moved to the back where the underwear popped over the cheeks of the kid. He felt the smooth round mounds of Timmy's ass, gripping them excitedly before moving his hands back to the front.

Bill slipped his fingers into the top of Timmy's underwear, feeling a short pile of wiry scrub beneath his fingers. Bill slowly pulled and finally Timmy's naked penis revealed itself; it was already over four inches long, nicely plump and dangling over a pair of juicy gonads.

"You want to take them all the way off, don't you? Say it, Bill," Timmy impelled.

Bill looked up at Timmy's camera and said the magic words.

"I'm straight," Bill mumbled but he wasn't even convincing himself now.

Bill was knelt in front of the fully exposed eighteen-year-old son of his new boss. He wanted to take the kid's underwear off; to feel his legs and watch the beautiful feet as the stepped out of the boxers suspended around the kid's hips.

"Timmy, let me take them off. Please let me take your underwear off..." Bill said.

Why? Why would a thirty-six-year-old want to have a naked kid in front of him? Why was he semi-hard when he was straight? Still, Bill was excited at the prospect of taking the boxers away from the kid who had sparked a late-in-life curiosity in homosexuality.

"Go on then," Timmy approved.

Bill dragged his fingertips over Timmy's hips, gripping the waistband of the underwear again and then pulling them down to Timmy's ankles. Bill caressed the downy legs as he pulled, the skin was soft and the wispy hairs were furry. Timmy put one foot on Bill's angled thigh; Bill grasped Timmy's ankle, stroked his hand over the top of his foot and pulled the boxers. Timmy slipped his foot out and Bill momentarily felt the clammy pad of Timmy's foot. Timmy lifted his other foot to Bill's other thigh and Bill repeated the process.

Timmy was now bare foot and bare naked in front of the man double his age. Bill found himself fondling the boxers in his hand. He looked up at Timmy who smiled and nodded.

Timmy had the double pleasure of watching Bill at his feet and seeing him through the lens of his camera phone. Bill was going to look great in HD, recorded forever doing amazing things to him. Timmy hadn't even needed to say anything – Bill put the boxers to his face and sniffed deeply.

Bill could smell incredible things from the teenager's underwear. But why was it turning him on? Bill had been in a locker room before, he worked out; why now would he find himself looking at a guy? Why now was he turned on by a guy's underwear?

The deep musky scent of moist manhood mixed with the freshness of washed skin and fabric conditioner. The faint dampness from perspiration and or leaking from the kid having pissed. Bill found himself thinking:

What. The fuck. Is wrong with me?

"Take my boxers out your face now Bill," Timmy said.

Bill stopped sniffing immediately but Timmy had filmed the man beginning to taste the boxers, pawing at the material with his lips and feeling the fabric with his tongue. Bill dropped the underwear to the floor and looked up at the long body of the eighteen-year-old towering over him.

"Look at my dick," Timmy ordered.

Bill looked at the dangling, fat boy-cock.

He'd never looked at another dick like this before. He felt desire and curiosity and his brain struggled to break through with the reminder: you're straight, Bill. Was he straight, right?

"Do it. You know you want to," Timmy said.

Bill moistened his lips and brought his head up to meet the tip of Timmy's limp, hanging cock. His lips touched it and when they parted, his tongue emerged to lick the dangling head. Bill had never been this close to a naked man before, never been this close to a naked penis before and he'd certainly never kissed and licked a dick before.

Bill's mouth opened wider and soon, it was closing around more and more of the eighteen-year-old's cock. It was starting to grow too – bigger and longer and heavier. It was expanding in Bill's mouth as he... sucked it. Straight Bill was sucking a cock? Once it was fully hard, it looked like the erection was seven inches – big for an eighteen-year-old... big for an anything year old.

Bill ejected the cock from his mouth; it was covered in his spit and the boy's precum. Saliva and precum oozed from Bill's mouth too, over his chin landing on his tie. Bill reminded himself that he had worn a good suit to meet his boss and now he was on the floor in front of his bosses son. He'd just had that son's cock in his mouth.

"Now what do you want to do Bill?" Timmy mocked.

"I want to suck your dick," Bill confessed to the camera.

"Try again," Timmy ordered.

"Please let me suck your cock, Timmy..." Bill pleaded; "I wanted to touch you and see you naked and now I want to suck your cock. Please?"

BILL'S FIRST COCK

"Good. Yes," Timmy said, cupping Bill's chin with his hand; "I thought you said you were straight, Bill?"

Bill almost replied, most assuredly, that he was straight. Is straight. However, he couldn't say it. He literally couldn't say it. Bill's head was buzzing with confusion, fogged from ear to ear, his vision clouded and the only clear thing in it was Timmy.

"I don't know..." Bill replied.

"But you want my boy-cock, don't you?" Timmy said.

Bill's eyes glued to the horizontal penile tumescence in front of his face. The head was gleaming and begging for hot lips to wrap around it.

"I want your boy-cock in my mouth, Timmy," Bill said.

"Suck it, Bill."

Seven inches of rigid boyhood stood in front of Bill. Bill opened his mouth, put out his tongue and moistened the cock, then he slowly brought it inside his mouth. Bill's mind was going wild – excitement and confusion dominated and common sense was long since locked away. Common sense would have said the kid didn't look eighteen but Bill hadn't looked eighteen years old until he was twenty-one. Yet, even if Timmy was eighteen, surely he was still too young for a man in his thirties? Common sense would have reminded Bill that he was straight and he'd never had a homosexual urge in his life.

But the cock tasted good. It was big and fat, it was salty with sweat and sweet from whatever was oozing from the slit. Bill's eyes were focussed on the muscled abdomen and the cute bellybutton – a little oval shape surrounded by smooth skin.

Bill could see the patch of wiry pubes above Timmy's cock and he could smell the young man too. Timmy helped by thrusting his groin into Bill's face and the man could feel teenage balls swinging into his chin. Timmy cupped a hand to the side of Bill's face, his white hand against the dark brown skin of Bill's face created a contrast that was magnificent to behold.

When Bill's mouth drew back, the slippery pole slid from his mouth. Bill was panting, looking at the slick dick in front of him. He'd had that in his mouth – Bill had had a cock in his mouth. Why? A part of his mind clawed at him to get away but the other part wanted that juicy dick back in his mouth.

Timmy's teenage balls were nestled underneath and Bill felt compelled to turn his head underneath the erection to bring the testicles to his mouth. Bill licked them and sucked them and though he'd never been so close to a cock before, he seemed to know what to do. Bill's nose kept butting into the long erection as his mouth worked on the sac suspended under it.

"I'm a little surprised, you know..." Timmy said.

Timmy had muddled Bill's mind but he hadn't expected to be so totally dominant over the man. Bill looked up questioningly but didn't stop blowing the kid.

"...That you weren't easier to control. I guess you want to know why?" Timmy said.

Timmy loved the view through the camera of Bill looking up again; Timmy's cock was covering part of Bill's face as the man continued to work on his balls.

"Do you want to know why I'm naked and you're on your knees? Why I'm filming you sucking my cock?" Timmy asked.

"Yes," Bill answered in between kissing each ball.

Bill wanted to stop but he couldn't. He felt impelled to continue prostrating himself at the knees of the eighteen-year-old. Timmy watched Bill long enough to see him grab the cock in front of his eyes and lick the underside of the shaft. Up and down, Bill slicked the whole fat cock; stroking and licking like a cock-addicted whore.

"It wasn't an accident that we met, Bill," Timmy said.

"My dad knows Ego-Log interviewed you first. When he interviewed you for such a high level a position in his company it was because you'd met with Ellis Blockerberg, not in spite of it," Timmy said. "My dad knows you're working for his rival."

Bill felt his cock getting more and more exited as he sucked the kid. He was getting even more confused though... what did Timmy mean? Although Bill was listening to every word, he was too focused on sucking the kid's cock to respond. It tasted so good. He'd never tasted a cock before and now he was addicted.

"Ellis had been trying to get a man inside Bus Tracks for years and this time my dad let him think he'd finally succeeded in infiltrating his business," Timmy said.

Wait! What? Bill was lost and it had nothing to do with Timmy's mind-altering powers.

Bill literally couldn't take the kid's cock out his mouth. He kept on sucking but... but...

"I can control your mind, Bill. Given our research about you, I thought you'd be more resistant. I thought..." Timmy moaned and lost himself in the pleasure of the moment.

Timmy wrapped his fingers in Bill's hair and held his head while the man continued to suck.

"You don't really work for my father's rival, Ellis Blockerberg. You're going to be a double agent. Double Ohhh!" Timmy exclaimed excitedly. "You work for my dad. Look at me, Bill... You work for me."

Bill was looking up at the teenager as he sucked and slurped and licked. Spit, pre-cum and whatever else were mixing into one messy concoction that Bill swallowed and then went back for more.

"Are you looking forward to being my inside man?" Timmy asked with a giggle; a double-entendre if ever he'd heard one. "You'll be inside me soon, Bill. But first, I want to cum in your mouth. I want you to pleasure me, straight man."

Bill sucked Timmy's seven-inch cock deep inside his mouth while the kid held the back of Bill's head. It was buried all the way to the hilt - Bill's nose was in Timmy's soggy pubes. Bill blinked a gag-induced tear from his eye as his face slid up and down the fat, veiny pole and finally Timmy was ready to cum.

Timmy was delighted to capture the final moment on camera. Jets of cum spewed into Bill's mouth and washed down his throat. Bill tasted the hot, sloppy seed of the teenager and could not believe he had caused the boy to ejaculate.

Timmy looked so young and sweet and guilt pushed at the edge of Bills mind – he shouldn't suck off teenagers. What if he was caught? What if Timmy had lied about his age... and that was the worst thing that niggled at his mind. The unconvincing way Timmy had said;

"Eighteen?"

Inflecting it, like a question.

Milky, slushy spunk washed over Billy's tongue and lips and he was faintly aware of Timmy recording him as jizz hit his chin. Bill let himself be lost in the moment as Timmy continued to shove his cock in and out of his mouth.

Bill wasn't the first man he'd fucked around with in this way and he wouldn't be the last. Timmy got a real kick out of controlling men, often and especially straight men, to make them pleasure him. Timmy wasn't just capable of controlling minds; he could manipulate them too – manipulate perception or memory. These separate but related abilities were defined as Tier I and Tier II mind control.

Tier I: the ability to coerce or compel another person into a desired action.

Tier II: the ability to subliminally manipulate or alter another person's perception of a person, thing or event.

Timmy used the latter ability to freak men out about his age; he loved amplifying the feelings of guilt his coerced suitor's felt – especially the straight men. Guilt came differently for ever man but there was nothing better than making them think they'd just messed around with a twenty-one-year-old, or an eighteen-year-old, or...

Timmy held own cock and Bill's head so he could squeeze a final drizzle of cum on Bill's lips. The first shots of sweet, high-speed, milky, gooey, teen-spunk had already been guzzled by the compliant first timer. With cum on Bill's lips and chin, Timmy pushed his dick back into Bill's mouth so the man could taste the rubbery cock as it softened, mixed with the sludge of spunk. All the while, Timmy recorded the fully clothed virgin-faced man who was gobbling the cock of a naked kid.

"Show me," Timmy commanded; "Eat it. Drink it all."

Bill opened his mouth so the camera would record his ball-juice filled mouth and then he swallowed. Cum was still on his lips, dribbling over his chin, when Bill found the ability to speak.

"Timmy?" Bill said breathlessly.

Bill was thinking furiously about what Timmy had said about being a double agent.

"What is, Double Ohhh?" Timmy replied.

That was the thing...

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Bill said. "Timmy, I turned down the job with Ego-Log. I don't work for Mr Blockerberg... I only work for your dad."

"You don't work for Ellis? Oh, shit," Timmy said; "You're the wrong guy?"

THE WRONG MAN

Well, this wasn't Timmy's fault - he wasn't a mind reader!

How was he to know Bill wasn't the man he was supposed to seduce? Bill had walked in, snooping around – what was Timmy supposed to think? In fairness, if he had paid attention to his dad, Timmy would have known his target's name... and the day/ date the man was going to be in the house.

But apart from that, how was Timmy meant to know he had messed with the wrong man?

Timmy admonished himself – he had known the man his father had mentioned wasn't expected until next week. He had just gotten excited... very excited. Anyway, waste not want not.

Bill was still on his knees, looking slightly dazed now. Timmy hadn't been paying attention and controlling someone's mind takes concentration, which he had unconsciously relaxed.

"Stand up," Timmy commanded, reasserting control.

Bill obeyed – he was taller than Timmy, who stood on his toes to kiss Bill's spunky lips.

"Ok, first things first," Timmy said; "Forget what I said about my dad, Mr Blockerberg, Ego-Log, being a Double Ohhh... all of that."

Timmy didn't really need to say his commands out loud. Sometimes he did so to help him direct his thoughts but he was able to issue silent commands and could soundlessly manipulate someone's mind or memories – though his Tier I powers were superior to his Tier II.

In fact, Timmy liked to silently implant a phrase as a way of subliminally beguiling someone and to confirm his manipulations were in place.

"You're the boss," was Timmy's subconscious phrase.

Timmy put his hand on the front of Bill's trousers and started to knead his cock. Bill was impressively hard and Timmy was sorely tempted to whip the man's cock out and suck it. He was even tempted to tell Bill to fuck him. Oh, the delights of getting a straight man to fuck you – the absolute mind fuck that stupid hetero's felt afterwards was delightful. It was almost as fun as fucking with their perception of his age.

Even as he imagined his soft, marshmallowy ass getting drilled by a big black cock, Timmy resisted the urge. It was going to be enough work mentally undoing the faux pas of exposing himself to the wrong man. Besides, Timmy had plenty of fun already. Timmy was enjoying himself enormously - rubbing Bill's big cock through his trousers and in a moment, he'd record the man cream his pants.

"What I do want you to remember is walking in on me. You were stunned by my beauty and asked to see my body. You'll remember worshiping my feet, making me naked, begging to suck my cock..." Timmy hit each thought home while continuing to masturbate Bill through his trousers.

Bill's cock was fully engorged and painfully trapped inside his dress trousers. Bill could feel droplets of pre-cum leak into his underwear so he knew that when he came, the mess would be impressive. Bill was trying to remind himself he was straight – men did nothing for him, he didn't fancy men.

"You'll never understand by you wanted my boy cock but you did, desperately. Remember how much you wanted me to cum in your mouth while your eyes looked into my short, curly pubes," Timmy continued; "Remember looking up at my camera with your mouth full of my teenage slime."

"Oh my god, I'm going to cum," Bill said.

"I know," Timmy boasted of his magical masturbation hands; "I'm still naked, Bill. Check me out while you cum. Look at my little body, Bill."

Bill's eyes wandered up and down the beautiful kid – feeling less straight as he did so. Bill basked in the silky skin, lovely nipples and adorable bellybutton; Timmy's pretty complexion, gorgeous eyes and sweet face.

"Guilt will stop you ever speaking of this," Timmy said.

Bill did feel guilty looking at the kid. He couldn't have been older than... wait... why would he think that.

"And I'm not eighteen, Bill. I'm..." Timmy said and then pushed the final thought into Bill's mind.

"Oh fuck! Timmy..." Bill cried; "Timmy, you're fucking..."

Bill wailed with pleasure and realisation, filling his underwear and trousers with his manly spunk and feeling it ooze over his thigh and down his leg. A milky spot that would be hard to explain seeped through the black trousers.

Timmy loved the look on Bill's face when he pushed the last thought. It was a touch cruel – the man was straight after all and not the man he'd been looking for but it gave him such pleasure. Timmy felt genuine delight at the mixture of shame and joy that a man felt when he persuaded them he was a certain age; every man had a different sub-optimal limit and that was where the sweet spot was. Timmy loved making them believe they were on the just-wrong-enough side of sexual misconduct.

"Oh, boy. I've never cum that hard before," Bill said.

"Oh, boy... you like boys now, Bill?" Timmy egged him on.

Bill's balls were sore from cumming so forcefully – everything since meeting Timmy had made him achingly hard. Bill was trying not to look at Timmy now, little did he know he literally could not stop – one of Timmy's earliest instructions had been to keep looking.

Timmy turned around and Bill looked at the tight little mounds of his ass. Timmy bent over and picked up his gown and underwear. Bill could see between the kids legs – his balls and penis dangling between the sweet cheeks. Timmy put the gown on but handed the underwear to Bill.

"I don't know if we'll see each other again or not but here's something to remember me by," Timmy said.

Timmy shoved the boxers into Bill's trouser pocket – he could feel the damp patch of semen staining Bill's trousers and felt proud of himself for leaving the man to make his escape without anyone noticing it.

"Thank you, Timmy," Bill found himself saying.

Bill still felt dazed and Timmy almost lamented the confusion the man would feel as his mind accommodated the things he'd done to it.

"Don't forget about me, Bill," Timmy said as he started to leave.

"You're the boss," Bill replied.

It made Timmy smile – Bill didn't even know he'd said it. The little phrase Timmy implanted was a subliminal instruction that let him know he had influence over someone – it always made him smile.

TO BE CONTINUED...

My hope with this story is to mess with the reader's perception of exactly what is going on. We empathise with Bill as he is manipulated and by the end of this chapter, you'll realise you were too? If I were writing in first person, it would be a classic unreliable narrator. So, who was Timmy really after and what will happen when he meets his real target?

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Stories so far by J. Forrester:

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#jforrester

Chronological order: School Exhibitionism, The Symposium, The Embarrassment of Riches, Do As You're Told, Anthology.

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