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Subject: At Their Mercy - 02 (m/b/b, Mind Control)
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Warning [or welcome :-)].  This is part 2 of a story about a 44 year old 
guy who is made to do
stuff by a 11 year old boy.  In part 1 he told how a bunch of us got 
control of his mind and made
him pee and poop himself and stuff.  He was made to write what we done 
to him and the story
was given to a guy who knows how to put it on a news group.  Readers 
were asked to write ideas
what else could be done to him.  If you got more ideas after you read 
this part then e-mail them
and the guy who posted this will pass them on to us.  He got to.

                     At Their Mercy Part 2

     The phone rang after supper last night.
     "Hey Mr. Wallace, guess what?"
     "Ah, who's calling?"
     "Me, Jay, your master."
     I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.  Jay had phoned 
me the day before to say
his friend had posted the story he had made me write a week earlier.  I 
figured he was lying and
just playing mind games with me the day before, and I figured this call 
was more of the same.
     "So guess what?" he repeated excitedly.
     "What?" I hated to ask.
     "Someone wrote!  Three guys actually!"
     I didn't believe it.  It had only been twenty-four hours since he'd 
told me the story had
supposedly been posted.  It had to be a lie.
     "Isn't that great!"
     "Jay, we have to talk about this."
     "Not right now, I got a buncha phone calls to make.  I just wanted 
to let you know that
someone sent in this real cool idea.  Don't worry, we'll talk real soon, 
     I sat down at the kitchen table.  Did he really know someone who 
would post the story? 
Did someone actually read it and write back a suggestion what else he 
and the boys could do?  I
found it hard to believe anyone would.  For one thing, the things they 
had made me do were sick,
and definitely unbelievable.  Besides, if anyone had written, Jay would 
have been over to my place
immediately.  Not only that, three people in one day, that had to be a 
     There are some very weird news groups on the net, I know that, and 
there are some very
weird people in this world, I know that too.  As I sat there, I wondered 
just what someone would
suggest a gang of preteen boys do to an adult man.  Once started, my 
imagination began to run
wild, especially with some of the stuff in the news lately.  I did not 
sleep well last night.
     This afternoon I left work early and drove to Crestview Middle 
School in the northeast
part of the city where I live.  I have never been to the school before, 
and I've never had reason to
drive to it, but I drove straight to the address and parked in the 
visitor's parking lot.  The busses
were all lined up and school had just let out.  It was a fairly large 
school from the looks of it,
probably around six hundred kids.  The sign at the entrance said it was 
grades four to eight.  They
were swarming all over the place.  Getting out and walking across the 
parking lot, I knew that I
was not doing so by my own will.
     "See, I told ya he would be here."
     The sound of that voice confirmed what I had suspected.  Jay was 
walking across the
parking lot, followed by a gang of boys.  There had to be over a dozen.
     "Told ya Jay would make him come," said a smug voice that I 
recognized immediately as
that of nine-year-old Billy.
     Walking along beside him was the only other boy I knew by name, a 
blond-haired youth
the same age as Jay by the name of Tyler.
     "Hi, Mr. Wallace," Jay greeted as if it was perfectly natural for 
me to be there.  "Glad you
could get away from work."
     I wanted to turn and leave but my legs would not listen to my mind.  
I wanted to call out
for help or to at least protest what was happening to me, but my voice 
box would not listen either.
     "Come with us."
     As I followed Jay and the boys, I noticed more joining us.  We 
walked out of the parking
lot and turned into an alley beside it.  A row of lilac bushes had been 
planted along the school
fence, blocking the view of the alley from the parking lot and school 
building.  The other side of
the alley was lined with garages, storage sheds, and tall fences, 
blocking out the view of the alley
from the residences adjacent to the school.  It was littered with the 
usual garbage from a school
yard, milk cartons, juice boxes, fast-food containers, discarded tests 
and assignments, and
cigarette butts.  I noticed a number of the boys had lit up the moment 
we had entered the alley.  It
was evidently a common place for the kids to grab a smoke.
     We stopped about half way down the alley and the boys formed a 
circle about Jay and me. 
By this time I figured there had to be at least two dozen, ranging in 
age from nine to fourteen. 
They were an assortment of heights and weights and an assortment of hair 
styles from almost
shaved bald to curls past their shoulders.  Some were carrying books 
under their arm, some had
large backpacks slung over their shoulders, and most weren't carrying 
anything.  Many were
chewing gum, and a number were smoking.  One thing they all had in 
common was their clothing,
loose baggy pants or blue jeans with large oversize shirts hanging loose 
over their hips and
sneakers.  Another thing they all had in common was the look of 
expectation and the exchanged
glances that hinted something forbidden was about to happen.
     I tried desperately to think of the call yesterday and what I'd 
done today that was unusual. 
I hadn't consumed an inordinate amount of coffee or eaten anything that 
would activate my
digestive system like the previous week where the boys had made me the 
object of their bathroom
humour.  The only unusual thing I'd done all day was leave work early 
and drive directly to the
     "You remember my phone call yesterday, shithead?"
     "Yes," I replied, knowing that derogatory name was the cue that put 
me under his control.
     "You remember what I said?"
     "That someone wrote about the story I wrote.  Three people."
     "You remember anything else I said?"
     "That's cuz I told you to do what I said, but not to remember that 
I told you," he said
with a smirk, showing off for the crowd.  "That's why you took off from 
work early and drove
here.  That's why you came with us now, and why you're gonna do what I 
say, cuz I told ya that
ya hadda."  He looked around at the crowd he was playing to.  "Me and 
Tyler and Billie was
telling some of the guys about the show you put on for us at your house 
a week ago last Sunday." 
He grinned at me like the Cheshire cat.  He was referring to making me 
serve them in my
underwear, and then .  "You remember that?"
     "Well, they didn't believe us, did youse?"
     The crowd generally murmured their agreement.
     "They still don't, but this guy Jerry wrote after reading your 
story and he got a real neat
idea," he said, taking out a sheet of paper from his pocket and 
unfolding it.  "Wanna hear what he
said?"  I didn't answer.  I knew I was going to hear anyway.  Jay looked 
about, and clearing his
throat, he read from the paper with great dramatic flourish, "Great 
story.  You could have the
boys make him go to their school or a park and get naked. . . ."  He 
paused there and looked at
everyone, and then at me with devilry in his eyes.  I cringed as he 
opened his mouth and I used
every ounce of my strength to turn and walk away from there, or to call 
for help, or to at least
object. I could do nothing but stand there and hear the command from my 
master.  "So, go ahead,
get naked."
     I strained and fought, but my body was not my own.  I slipped off 
my suit jacket and
dropped it on the filthy ground without the slightest care.  Me, George 
Wallace, perfectionist and
immaculate adult, just dropping a four-hundred dollar jacket on the 
ground like it was worthless. 
I undid my tie and dropped it on the ground too, and then bent over and 
untied my shoes.  My
heart was beginning to race as I began to unbutton my shirt.
     "Shit, he's really strippin'," someone said.
     "I don't fuckin' believe this," someone else said.
     "Hey, lookit all the hair on his chest."
     "I wonder if he got any on his butt."  Several laughed at that 
     "He's got pretty good pecs for an old guy."
     It was a complement in a way, and I did keep myself in shape 
exercising once a week in
the gym, but I took offense to being called an old guy at forty-four.  I 
dropped my shirt at my feet
and unbuckled my belt.  As I pulled down my zipper, the buzz of 
excitement increased.  I lowered
my pants and stepped out of them.  As I raised one foot and removed my 
sock and then the other,
I was beginning to turn red with shame.  By this time my heart was 
beating so fast I was sure the
boys could hear it, and I was so tense fighting what was happening that 
I felt like I was about to
snap.  I slipped my hands under the elastic band of my white jockey 
briefs, and slid them down.
     "Fucking shit I don't believe this!"
     "The ol'bastard's really doin' it."
     "Jay wasn't fuckin' lyin'!"
     The murmur and comments were a buzzing in my head as I bent over 
and stepped out of
my underwear.  I immediately put my hands in front of me but of course 
Jay just as quickly told
me to put my hands at my sides.  I stood there stark naked in the 
filthy, garbage-strewn alley
surrounded by two dozen teenage and preteen boys.
     "Look up," Jay demanded.
     \    I slowly looked up at him.
     "Turn around real slow so everyone can have a good look at your 
naked body."
     I turned slowly, staring straight into the faces of the crowd of 
boys.  The older boys were
all smirking and leering at me lewdly.  The younger were staring at me 
in wide-eyed wonder. 
Boys of all ages were looking at me in disbelief, unable to believe what 
I had done and what they
were seeing.  A few glanced away with embarrassment, evidently having 
never believed I would
do it and evidently ashamed for me.  Most, however, were staring at me 
with keen interest.  For
most I was probably the first adult they had ever seen naked.  Unable to 
look down or to move
my hands in front of myself to hide my shame, I tried to concentrate on 
the rocks and dirt under
my feet.  It did not work.  I made two complete turns before Jay stopped 
     "That ain't all the guy wrote," he said with an evil grin, totally 
enjoying himself.  He was
in power, not just of me, but of the entire crowd of boys.  He held up 
the paper and continued
reading, "Great story," he repeated.  "You could have the boys make him 
go to their school or a
park and get naked and jerkoff in front of a whole bunch of boys invited 
to watch him do it."
     Jay looked at me triumphantly.  Good God no, I prayed.  He 
wouldn't.  He couldn't.  "I'm
not gonna make you do that," he said and I sighed with relief and began 
to thank my lucky stars. 
"Not right away," he said with an evil grin, and I knew I should not 
have been so foolish as to
believe this little eleven-year-old brat had any sense of decency or 
mercy.  "Some of us have been
talking and stuff all afternoon about ya, and we got lots of questions 
and figured you'd be the best
chance for us to get some answers, right guys?"  A few nodded and 
mumbled agreement.  "So,
who's got the first question?"  He glanced around at the crowd.  The 
boys fidgeted and stared
everywhere except at Jay.  "You'll answer all questions, won't ya, Mr. 
     "Fuck, I'll start," said one of the older boys.  "How old was ya 
when ya first jerked off?"
     "Didja do it all the way?" the boy beside him asked.
     "Yes," I replied, eliciting a murmur from the crowd.
     "Howdja find out about it?"
     "An older boy told us about it."
     "Does doin' it hurt ya or anything?"
     "Ya ever do it in front of another guy?"
     "In front of who?"
     "Jay, Tyler and Billie."
     "Besides that."
     "No shit."
     "So when was the last time ya done it?"
     "A week Sunday."
     "And before that?"
     "I don't know.  Years."
     "Ya haven't done it for years?"
     "Cuz ya been fucking."
     "No, I haven't had any sex for years."
     "Why the fuck not?"
     "Just haven't known anyone."
     "Shit, forty-four and ain't havin' sex, that's weird."
     "Standin' naked in an alley in front of a buncha school kids is 
     "Hey, Jay, enough talk.  Ya gonna make him do it or what?" someone 
called and several
cheered and encouraged him to get on with it.
     "Yeah, I gotta be gettin' home or my mom'll be gettin' worried."
     "We better do somethin' before someone comes along and catches us."
     "You heard them," Jay said.  "Jerk yourself off for us."
     My mind screamed as I took my limp organ in my hand and began to 
fondle it.  Despite
my shame and total lack of any sexual arousal, my penis responded.  
Maybe it was because of the
long periods of abstinence.  Maybe it was because subconsciously this 
was arousing.  Maybe it
was another one of Jay's hypnotic suggestions I was unaware of.  I do 
not know, but gradually
my penis began to swell, and the more it grew the more the whispering 
and smirking and elbow
digging increased around me.  The boys pressed in closer.
     Once I was erect, Jay had me stop and again turn in a slow circle 
so everyone could see
my transformed organ.  By this time my entire body had to be as red as 
my peckerhead from
shame, and the comments of all the boys about my erection did not help.  
Jay then had me resume. 
I slowly worked my fist up and down my shaft, my face as hot as the 
organ in my hand.  The boys
continued to jeer and make lewd comments.  It seemed like hours before I 
felt my stiff rod grow
numb and signal the approaching climax, although I know it had to be 
only a matter of a couple
minutes.  I tried to control myself but I could not help breathing 
deeper and pumping faster as the
need for relief took over and my body demanded satisfaction.  I bit my 
lip as the first rope of
semen spurted from my irritated shaft.
     "He's fuckin' cumming!"
     "Lookit it!"
     "Lookit the ol'bugger spurt!"
     "Way to go dude!
     "Yeah, shoot that spunk out!"
     "Fuckin' far out!"
     "Hey, Jay, one cool show!"
     I stood there holding my stiff, throbbing cock, the last of my 
semen hanging in a long
pendant.  Twenty-four boys surrounded me flushed with just as much 
excitement, all twenty-four
pair of eyes staring at my dripping cock and tight balls.  Some of the 
boys had tell-tale bulges in
their jeans, not just the fourteen-year-old boys but even some of the 
nine-year-old boys.  Most
were leering and smirking at each other knowingly.  Many were looking at 
Jay with open
admiration for the show he had me put on for them.  I knew for a number 
of them I had just
introduced them to an act they had never heard of until now.
     As I looked around at them I wondered what they were thinking.  
What would they be
telling each other later this night?  Who else would they tell about 
this?  Would any of them tell
their parents?  They began to drift off, singly and in groups, until 
finally there was just me and Jay.
     "After you get dressed, you head straight home and write what 
happened.  And remember
what I said, you can't tell anyone about this, or show anyone what 
you've written.  I'll come by
and pick it up tonight so my friend can post it."
     "Very well."
      "It'd be real cool if some more guys write and send us some more 
neat ideas wouldn't
it?" he asked as I put on my underwear.
     "I'd hardly think so," I replied honestly, still under his control.
     "Say by the way, Mr. Wallace," Jay said as I continued dressing.  
"What does 'a straight
guy' mean?"
     "It means a man who likes women."
     "Just likes them?"
     "Well, no, likes them and has sex with them."
     "So," he said as he thought, "it's like the opposite of a fag."
     "That's right," I replied, and a wide grin passed over his face.  
"Why do you ask?"
     "You'll see," he said with an impish sparkle in his eye.  "You'll 

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