by Declan Ward
BOYS IN TRANCE
A collection of gay erotic short stories
By Declan Ward
D. Ward Books.
Copyright © 2016 by Declan Ward
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and situations are fiction; resemblance to any actual persons, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
MORE STORIES BY DECLAN WARD
Straight Seduction Stories
The Roommate
Other Stories
Mind Stripped
Story Collections
Boys in Trance 2
Table of Contents
The Roommate
Breaking Up
Bad Neighbor
Freshman Orientation
The Failing Student
Doctor’s Orders
Remembrance
Perfect Date
Who’s the Boss?
The Roommate
My roommate gave me an album from this new band he loved. I didn’t normally like his music recommendations, but I always gave them a listen just to humor him. This time though, I actually didn’t mind it.
I decided to go on a walk while I listened to the music. There were so many different sounds layered over each other that it was hard to really focus, but I enjoyed it in the background anyway. As I walked around, my mind started to get a bit foggy, and my cock started to get hard. I didn’t mind at first, but after a while it was rock hard. I looked down and saw it tenting in my shorts. I shouldn’t be in public like this. I should go home and get off.
I began heading back home, but I was just so horny. I kept walking in a daze, still headed home. This guy stared at me with a look of disgust on his face, and it shocked me back to reality. I looked down to find my hand in my shorts stroking my rock hard dick. My face reddened and I quickly took my hands out of my shorts. My fingers were sticky with precum.
When I got home, my roommate was on the sofa watching TV.
“How was your walk?” he asked.
“Good,” I muttered, rushing to my room, embarrassed of my still hard cock.
The music still pounded in my ears as I sat on my bed. Before I knew it, I had torn my shorts and underwear off and was masturbating. I had to stroke. So horny. It felt so good. I didn’t care about anything but my dick. I needed to stroke.
I began moaning just loud enough to hear it even with my headphones in my ears. Then part of my mind began to register what the words of the songs were.
They were commands.
Stroke. Serve. Submit. Obey.
Stroke. Serve. Submit. Obey.
I am a good boy.
I am a slave boy.
Stroke. Serve. Submit. Obey.
Stroke. Serve. Submit. Obey.
I am a good boy.
I am a slave boy.
I caught a glance of my roommate standing in my doorway with a sexy grin on his face. I never realized how hot he was. His cheek bones. The ripples of his abs. His piercing, powerful eyes.
He walked closer, his hand rubbing the tent in his shorts. He plucked out my headphones, and I noticed that I was chanting the words from the music aloud.
“Stroke. Serve. Submit. Obey. I am a good boy. I am a slave boy.”
“That’s right boy,” my roommate said. “And I’m your master, aren’t I?”
“Yes, master,” I said before I could stop myself. But I didn’t care. It was true, wasn’t it?
“We’re going to have a lot of fun, slave.” He grinned again, licking his lips.
He dropped his shorts to the floor, and I dropped to the ground with them. I needed to suck master’s cock.
//// //// ////
Ever since I listened to my roommate’s brainwashing music, I’ve gone to the gym every day. He told me that he’s always been attracted to me, but more muscle couldn’t hurt. I agreed. Master was always right after all. So when I got off of work, I went to the gym for a few hours before heading home, sweaty and ready for my roommate to fuck me.
While at the gym, I listed to the music he gave me to enslave me and enhance my programming. Sometimes he added a few tracks. I normally couldn’t tell what the tracks were meant to do, but the recent ones were all about making me a dumb jock. If that was what Master wanted, I didn’t mind. Pretty soon I’d be too dumb to care anyway.
I couldn’t help but chant under my breath, breathing in the words and breathing out my will as I lifted weights.
Stroke. Serve. Submit. Obey.
I am a good boy.
I am a slave boy.
Stroke. Serve. Submit. Obey.
I am a dumb boy.
I am a jock boy.
Like the first time he brainwashed me, on the way home, I had a hard time keeping my hands off of my dick. Like the first time, when I got home, my hands were sticky with precum from stroking my dick. But unlike the first time, I wasn’t embarrassed when I got home and found Master waiting for me.
“Your jock body is coming along nicely. You ready for the fuck of your life, boy?” he asked, wearing the sexy grin he always wore.
He stared at me with his always piercing, dominant eyes; he didn’t even have to give the command for me to strip for him. I tore off all of my clothes.
“Come here, my dumb little boy.”
I hurried toward him, and he kissed me deep, his hand stroking my cock, getting sticky with my plentiful precum. Then he whipped me around, pushed me against the wall, and pressed himself against me.
As always, I readily, lustfully opened myself for him. He was inside my mind, and everyday I hungered for him to be inside my body too.
//// //// ////
Eventually my roommate’s music made me so dumb that I lost my job. It was too hard to think. I didn’t want to think about work anyway. My mind only cared about exercising, fucking, and obeying my roommate. My Master.
But Master needed me to make money for him, and I was eager to serve. Whenever Master went to work, I went to the gym. Luckily the gym needed a new personal trainer. Since I spent so much time there, they asked me if I was interested in the position. If there was one thing my dumb mind knew a lot about besides obeying Master and having sex, well, it was working out. Master made sure my mind was able to retain that information so I’d have the perfect body for him.
A week into the job, I realized my never-ending horniness and my unquenchable libido were becoming problematic. I was getting distracted, and clients were noticing. I wasn’t getting new customers. I was pushing customers away. One guy noticed my rock hard cock as I was spotting him, and he reported me.
I was on thin ice.
But I was dedicated to Master. And I knew a way I could make these customers enjoy working out as much as I did.
I made copies of Master’s music, and I told clients that the music was perfect motivation for exercise. They accepted, and they listened to it. My body was perfect, so why shouldn’t they trust my methods?
Pretty soon, we had an influx of new customers. The horny clients spread the word, saying I was the best trainer they’d ever had. So my job was secure, the gym’s business was booming, and I knew Master would be pleased to find out he had a horde of new slaves.
When I told him, his face ignited with his sexy grin and dominant eyes. The next day after work, he visited me at the gym. We spent the next two hours fucking all of his new slaves. It was an orgy, and Master was at the center of it
.
“You did a fucking great job, slave,” he said. I felt a rush of pleasure from his praise. “Keep getting me more slaves. I’ll be coming back to play with them. Sound good, boys?”
We all nodded eagerly. There were boys on their knees, kneeling and serving Master’s long cock. There was a boy rimming him. A boy sloppily making out with him. Boys masturbating, hands sliding up and down their dripping shafts as they waited for Master to use them. And some boys were worshiping me.
“Slave boys, when I’m not here you’ll obey your personal trainer and serve him as you would serve me. You all understand?”
A chorus of slave boys moaned together in obedience.
Breaking Up
My boyfriend and I had been together for almost two years. It started off great, but as time went on, he got more and more dominant. And I got sick of it. I wasn’t the sub type, and I was tired of being treated like one. I had talked to him about it a few times, but he always ignored it. It’s like he wasn’t even listening. So I knew I had no choice but to break up with him.
I waited for him to get home from work, nervous about finally breaking it off. I still had feelings for him, but I’d run out of hope for us. He walked in, his posture suggesting dominance and the sneer on his face suggesting he thought he owned the world. That was it. I stood and walked toward him.
“Hey, Brett. Can we talk?” I asked.
The sneer on his face grew, his mocking smile pissing me off. “I knew you’d do this eventually. We’re not breaking up.”
This caught me off guard. I hadn’t even started explaining myself, and he already knew what it was about. Though it didn’t surprised me that he was cocky enough to think it wasn’t happening.
“Sorry, I can’t do this anymore. I—”
“Shh,” he said, his hand tugging on his shirt’s collar.
He pulled down his shirt to reveal a pendant. I stopped talking out of confusion, and that confusion grew when the pendant began to glow a bright yellow, like a small sun radiating off his chest. And then his eyes reflected that brilliant glow, and I was too confused to speak.
“There we go. Just let the glow take over,” he said.
It was so bright; it felt like it was shining through my eyes and straight into my mind. I tried to gather my thoughts, to remember what I wanted to talk to him about.
“We… we have to break up,” I managed to say.
“Oh? And why is that?” he asked, that beautiful smirk on his face.
“I don’t… want to be treated,” I stammered. “I don’t want to be treated…”
“Like what, boy?”
“Like… like a sub,” I said.
The words were so heavy on my tongue, I barely managed to get them out. I could barely take my focus off the pendant, off his Adonis body. He was so perfectly, built. His face was chiseled, and fuck, I loved his smirk.
“You want to be treated like a sub?” he said. “That can be arranged, boy.”
I almost nodded, but then my mind screamed. No, I said I didn’t want to be treated like a sub.
“You’re such a good sub. You’ve always been my good, obedient sub. And you love it. Isn’t that right, boy?”
Even though I knew it was wrong, I just felt so strange. My knees suddenly felt magnetized to the ground. I wanted to kneel. I wanted to be a sub. But hadn’t I hated that idea a minute ago? Wasn’t I sick of being treated like he owned me?
“Good slaves don’t need clothes, do they, boy?”
My mind said to resist, but my body automatically began stripping. I tore off my clothes with an eagerness I didn’t recognize. And as soon as I was naked, the magnetic attraction between my knees and the ground grew stronger. My legs buckled, and I found myself kneeling before my master… no, before Brett.
“That’s right, boy. Kneel for your master. You belong at my feet.”
I felt so foggy. The part of me that was resisting felt weaker and weaker. I felt weaker and weaker. And this weakness started to feel familiar, like it was part of me.
“You’re nothing more than an obedient sub slave. You do nothing but obey.”
Back in my mind, part of me wanted to get up and run. But I couldn’t do anything but obey.
“You belong to me, slave. Say it.”
“I belong to you, master,” I said, and he smirked, and I loved it.
“Good slaves suck their master’s cocks. Don’t they, boy?”
I nodded eagerly, my eyes no longer locked onto his pendant or his eyes, but the cock tenting in his pants.
“Good boy. Get to work.”
I licked my lips, ready to please my master. Ready to be his perfect sub.
Bad Neighbor
I didn’t want to deal with this guy. Every time I saw Marc in the hallway, he just gave me this glare, like he thought he was better than me. Like he thought I was nothing. It pissed me off.
But I had barely slept in days. His music was loud. His fucking was loud. The noise from his apartment never stopped. I’d asked the landlord to deal with it, and he said he would. When nothing changed, I asked the landlord about it again. And he told me that Marc could do whatever he wanted.
So I guess I had to deal with it myself.
I knocked on Marc’s door, and eventually he answered it. He motioned for me to come in, like he was expecting me, and he walked into the living room and sat in a chair. It wasn’t exactly the cleanest place. There was shit everywhere. It stank of sweat and beer. I guess I wasn’t surprised.
“Take a seat,” he said.
I sat on the couch across from him.
“The landlord came to talk to me about some noise complaints. He told me it was you.”
Seriously? The landlord wasn’t supposed to give my name.
“I don’t like being told what to do,” Marc said. He was pissed.
“Look, all I’m asking is for you to—”
Suddenly he sprung forward, grabbed me by the collar, and lifted me into the air. Our eyes were locked. His were filled with fury. And he wasn’t struggling in the slightest to hold me up with a single hand. This was a mistake. I needed to get out of here before this guy beat the crap out of me.
“You don’t ask. I ask. And you do as I say, understand?” he growled.
There was nothing else I could do. I nodded.
“Good.”
He released me, and I felt my feet hit the ground.
“Say thank you,” he commanded.
“What?” I asked. He hadn’t exactly helped me out.
“I put you down, and I didn’t beat the shit out of you. Say thank you,” he commanded again.
I said nothing, and the anger returned to his face. Our eyes were locked again, and I felt his alpha stare digging into me, and I felt genuine fear. But not just fear. I felt… submission. Part of me was eager to thank him. His dominant eyes were penetrating my mind. I tried to look away, but it was impossible. My eyes wouldn’t move from his.
“T-thank you,” I muttered.
“Good boy.” He raised his arm, and that sweat smell that filled his apartment burst forward, the musk drowning my senses. “Lick my pits, boy.”
The submission feeling hadn’t escaped me, but this strange command brought some reality back to my mind. I’d never lick someone else’s arm pit. Marc was insane.
I made a move to get away, run out of the apartment before this got worse, but his powerful hand grabbed my head and forced my face into his pit.
“Lick, boy,” he commanded.
The musk blew out all of my senses. It was so hard to pull away. His strong hand kept pushing me forward. I could see his massive muscles flexing in the corner of my eye.
And then the smell started to pull me in. The more I breathed it, the better it smelled. I actually was starting to enjoy his smell. He reeked of dominance. I had to breathe it in. I was breaking before him. And I didn’t even care.
I took a deep whiff of his pits, and then I began to lick eagerly.
“Now that’s a
good boy. You love my musk, don’t you?”
I nodded as eagerly as I could while continuing to lick his salty pits.
“Now stop,” he commanded.
Even though I wanted to keep licking so desperately, the moment he spoke, I stopped. I had to obey this alpha.
“You’re a good slave boy, aren’t you? You’re a good bitch.”
I nodded, feeling a dumb grin form on my face. It was automatic. I loved being called a slave, a bitch.
“Get on your knees, slave.”
I dropped to my knees, and he dropped his pants in one swift movement. His massive, alpha cock stood erect in front of me. I imagined how delicious it would taste in my mouth, how amazing it would be to swallow my Master’s seed.
“You want to suck it so bad, don’t you, slave?”
“Yes, Master. Please let me serve you.” I started to beg, panting and practically drooling as I stared at his thick, long shaft.
He laughed. He knew I was completely and utterly his.
“You still want me to keep it quiet in here?” he asked, a sinister grin smearing his face.
“You can do whatever you want, Master,” I said. I didn’t care how loud he was. I just wanted the honor of serving him.
“Good. Because when I fuck you, you won’t be able to keep your mouth shut. Now get sucking, boy.”
Freshman Orientation
It was a good school, but I couldn’t help being disappointed that I was about to spend my four years of college without a girl in sight. My parents argued with me for months about it. They thought it was ridiculous that I was considering turning down a full ride scholarship just because I didn’t want to go to an all male school. I hadn’t really done anything to deserve a full ride. My grades average. My only extracurriculars were my high school’s shitty sports teams. I work out a lot, but who gets a scholarship for a nice body? Whatever, I couldn’t complain. I was here. I could always go to a nearby city to find some girls.
The line to the freshman welcome assembly was massive. Some of the guys said there was pretty massive security slowing down the line. I didn’t know why they’d be worried so much about a bunch of college freshmen, but I had to wait.
