Willing Hypnoslave Part II

Thanks for all the e-mails about Part I.  Let's hope that our
little fag boy learns his place in Part II...

This story may not be posted on pay to view sites as they're the
bane of the net.  If you'd like to list this page on a free site,
please do but drop me a mail first :) 

Uniform Master - London 1999
uniform_master@hotmail.com

-----------------------------------------------------------------

John could not believe his ears. Here he was, only twenty years
old, wearing a police uniform and being told that he was about to
service a bunch of no good faggots.  In spite of everything that
had happened since the night out at the cabaret club, John simply
refused to accept what was happening to him and reasoned that he
would refuse to obey the commands given to him by this D'Ath guy
if it was the last thing he did.

Fighting growing waves of nausea, John tried not to look as D'Ath
swung open the doors to the room at the end of the corridor and
stepped behind him into the silence.  The sound of hushed voices
and snickering met his ears as he tentatively raised his eyes to
survey the room at his feet.

The room itself was very large with a high ceiling, yet not so
overpoweringly cavernous as to be un-welcoming.  Tastefully
decorated in the colonial style with what must have been
priceless antique furniture, the room had the feel of some sort
of high class gentleman's lounge and John even noticed a dour
looking butler standing motionless next to a drinks cabinet on
the left of the room.  An immense set of doors at the far end of
the room was framed by two immense palm trees in large bronze
urns while a number of smaller doors led out of the room to
John's left and right.  

The plush furnishings and elegant decor contrasted sharply with
three of the occupants of the room.  While most of the men in the
room looked much like business executives or retired tycoons,
John was startled to see three men who most certainly did not
look like they fitted the dress requirements of the
establishment.  Come to think of it, he mused in a detached
manner, he couldn't really think where they might look at home;
certainly not here, that was for sure.

One of the three men, who could not have been much older than
John, wore only a dull black leather jockstrap that looked as if
it must be at least several sizes too small.  His muscular body
seemed to be devoid of hair and even his head was bare,
reflecting light from the crystal chandeliers above their heads. 
John wondered with a shudder how many hours this guy must have
had to put in at the gym to get his body into that condition.
As he slowly took in the spectacle before him, John, suddenly
realised he had to try and escape.  The revelation swept though
his body like a wave and a surge of adrenaline pumped into his
veins as he readied himself to sprint across the room to the
doors at the far end and make a hasty exit.  With a deep breath,
John launched himself into his sprint and was taken aback when he
came to an abrupt halt only two feet from where he started.  In
that instant, the world came crashing down for what seemed like
the hundredth time since the nightmare began.  Looking up to face
his captors, John felt the power of D'Ath clutch at him once
again as a dull acceptance of his situation once again asserted
itself in his mind.

John was abruptly brought back from his daydream by a voice from
one of the men in the room addressing him.

"Come here Cop!"  Commanded the speaker, a young looking man in a
well-made, and obviously expensive, Italian suit.  "What's your
name Cop?" Ordered the man bluntly.

"Sergeant John Edwards, Sir!" Barked John standing to attention
and saluting.  As soon as he said the words everything seemed
wrong, but it was too late.  He had unconsciously spoken the
words and made his salute to keep within his pre-defined role and
there hadn't been a thing he could do about it.
"Well, Sergeant Edwards.  Do you know why you're here?" Went on
the young man in the suit.

"I'm here to service anyone who requires my attention, Sir."
Answered John before he had a chance to say what he was really
feeling and put it into words.

"That's right Sergeant, but you're new aren't you?"

"Yes Sir!  I'm new today Sir!"

"Well..." Continued the man. "How would you like to give us a
little show of your talents? D'Ath has told me personally that
you're dying to entertain us all..?"

At the words 'entertain us', John felt himself growing light
headed, he swallowed and looked again at the man standing before
him fighting off a growing sense of arousal and desire that was
welling up deep within his groin.

"Please, Sir!" Snapped John who was now beginning to sweat and
show a distinct bulge in his breeches.  "I would like to attend
to you now."

The other men in the room laughed uproariously at the words and
John blushed a deep shade of pink unable to believe what he had
said, much less reconcile the feelings he was suddenly feeling
with his status as a confirmed heterosexual.

"Do you want to make me happy?" Asked the young man when the
laughter had died away.

"Yes sir!" Croaked John who was less flushed than he had been but
was now looking distinctly aroused and was even posing slightly
for his audience. "I want to pleasure you now Sir."

"Well, well, it seems we have a little faggot slave here
gentlemen!"  Announced the young man turning to his colleagues
for encouragement and winking at John. "Are you a faggot,
Sergeant Edwards?"

"Yes Sir,  I'm a faggot and I want to service you now."  Answered
John who was by this point looking, and indeed feeling, very
horny indeed.

In John's mind the battle had been fought and won.  He didn't
care what he was saying, all he knew was that he wanted this
strange man and that he wouldn't be able to rest until he had
serviced his every desire.  He gazed into the eyes of the man
with a longing stare, taking in every detail of his crisp suit
and immaculate features and loosing himself utterly in waves of
desire.

Without warning John dropped to his knees and begged to be
allowed to please his master, licking his shoes and hugging the
man's legs as if his life depended on it.  The young man looked
at his friends, impressed, and spoke to John.

"Stand up now and listen to me.  You're not here to have it your
way, you're here to be a slave.  Stand still now and listen to
your instructions."  Immediately, the haze lifted from John's
head and he realised with horror what he'd been saying and doing
since he'd entered the room.

The man paused while John dazedly picked himself up from the
floor and stood at attention the look of lust now replaced by an
expression of abject terror and disgust.
"Andrew, come here."  Called the man to an unseen figure in the
crowd of onlookers.

A short stocky man in a rubber jockstrap with a very short crew
cut, appeared and stood, next to John, in front of the young man.
"This is Andrew." Said the young man.  "He's been with us for a
few weeks now and is really starting to enjoy life as a slave;
aren't you Andrew?"

"Yes Sir!"  Agreed Andrew, the look in his eyes, the only clue as
to how he was actually feeling.  

"Andrew used to be the leader of a group of right wing fascists
who killed a black family in Texas and then murdered four college
students who they believed were communists.  As you can see,
Andrew here, has had a change of heart regarding fascism and even
goes to the Mission to help out at the soup kitchen on Sundays."  
There was a tense pause while the young man looked at John.

"Andrew's about to be made into an example for you Sergeant
Edwards.  At the moment, the real Andrew can hear everything
we're saying and knows exactly what's going on but can't do
anything about it.  Now someone as dangerous as him can't ever be
let back onto the streets so we're going to have to help him
become a more useful and caring citizen without his co-operation. 
Isn't that right Andrew?"

"Yes Sir!" Came Andrew's strangled reply, the sweat standing out
in beads on his forehead and tears trickling from the corners of
his eyes.

"Now Andrew, from this moment on you're ALWAYS going to be
helpful and caring to others aren't you."

Andrew looked as though he had been hit hard in the face as he
croaked "Yes Sir!"

"Your only desire now is to give pleasure to other gay men like
yourself..."

"Yes Sir!" Groaned Andrew in pain as his mind assimilated his new
identity and traces of his old personality began to dissolve.

"Your name is now Clint and you are a sexual submissive with a
smoking fetish and a love for skinheads..."

"Yes Sir!"

"From now on you will only wear the clothes like those you'll
find in your room when you return, preferring to go naked rather
then ever wear anything else..."

"Yes Sir!"

"Whenever you wear the clothes you will feel horny and want to
have sex with the men around you.  If the men around you are not
gay, like yourself, you will go somewhere you know you'll be able
to find gay men to sleep with."

"Yes Sir!" Answered the now zombie like Andrew.

"Clint, I order you free, you may now do anything you want, and
you are free to leave and never return should you wish to do so. 
Hypnosis will never be able to affect you again unless it comes
from D'Ath himself but even he will not be able to bring Andrew
back."

A confused look appeared on Andrew's face as if he were trying to
remember some long forgotten fact but could not recall it.  He
looked at the young man and then at John and then began to
covertly rub his jockstrap.  After a moment's contemplation, he
dropped the jockstrap to his feet, letting loose his burgeoning
manhood for all to see and began to rub it slowly.

"Clint!" Snapped the young man angrily. "What do you think you're
doing? Go to your room and get changed immediately, then come
back here straight away!"

A smile lit up Clint's face as he answered with a very heartfelt
"Yes Sir!" and marched to one of the side doors and left the
room.

"As you can see..." Said the young man turning to John. "We take
our job very seriously indeed.  People like Andrew are a danger
to everyone so the old Andrew is gone now, resigned to the place
that suits him best, oblivion.  Don't worry" The young man
smirked. "That's not going to be your fate...  I believe D'Ath
has different plans for you!"

John began to consider what these other plans might entail and a
shiver went up his spine.  He recalled with horror the look on
Andrew's face as his brain was forced to accept it's new
programming and prayed that a similar fate wouldn't befall him
too.

The crowd of onlookers had dispersed by this time, leaving John
and the young man alone in the centre of the great room.  Turning
to John, he addressed him quietly:

"Well, Sergeant Edwards, you've seen the fate that can befall
uncooperative members of society should they cross the Great
D'Ath... It's now time for you to begin your true punishment..."
John found himself listening to the man's ramblings in a detached
manner. All he could think about was how to get out of this
nightmare and as a consequence he didn't really pay any attention
to what the young man was saying until the last sentence.

"...Until then you will cease to be aware that anything is out of
the ordinary apart from your behaviour." 

John looked about himself confused, and then relaxed as his new
programming kicked in, refusing to let him question his
surroundings and leaving his mind free to concentrate on other
matters that might arise without interruption.

At that moment came the sound of a door opening on the other side
of the room and John looked up to see the figure of Clint enter
wearing a pair of very tight black leather pants, black leather
ranch boots and a white T-shirt that seemed too small for his
burly figure.  The new image was certainly a different look for
Clint and John couldn't seem to keep his eyes off him.

'Why was he staring at this guy?' John asked himself over and
over.  He just didn't get it.  He tried to look away but found he
couldn't and continued to stare at the Clint as if he'd seen a
ghost.

As for Clint, he immediately noticed the look in that cute
Sergeant Edward's face and walked over to introduce himself
properly.

As Clint approached, John found himself becoming disoriented and
a hot feeling rose from his groin to his face in a deep blush of
embarrassment.

'Surely he wasn't getting turned on by this guy?  He might be
fairly good looking but he was still a man and he knew he had no
interest in guys...  didn't he?'

As Clint reached out to shake John's hand and introduce himself,
John seized control.  Reaching over to Clint, he stepped towards
the leather-clad man and flung himself at him in a passionate
kiss.  Even as he did it, John, could not believe what he was
doing, every inch of his being screaming at him to stop.  As the
two men's saliva mixed and John grasped firmly at Clint's ass, he
felt consumed by revulsion and confusion, yet at the same time,
more aroused than he'd ever felt in his life.

As the initial horror of the situation died down, John very
slowly began to actually enjoy what he was doing, ever stronger
urges to get down to business slowly squashing the last vestiges
of resistance from his mind.  After a long kiss, he felt Clint
kneel down on the floor and unzip the fly on his breeches.  The
feel of Clint's hands around his groin excited him more than he
could ever have imagined and he practically came on the spot as
Clint slid his hands into John's boxers and began to massage his
penis.

By this time, the crowd of onlookers had reassembled to watch the
John and Clint in the throes of their passionate lovemaking. 
John was now thoroughly enjoying himself in his role and had
pushed the moaning Clint over the back of a chaise-longue where
he proceeded to use his baton to loosen up Clint's rear end.  As
he worked the hard rod deeper into Clint's butt, John suddenly
realised that this was what he was meant to be, a fagass cop
who's sole aim in life was to humiliate other men into submission
and then use them for pleasure.  The realization of this truth
came to John in an overwhelming wave of narcotic pleasure and
although the confusion persisted, he was actually starting to
feel more and more at home in his role as the dominant cop
master.

As John's ministrations with the baton, worked Clint into ever
higher states of excitement, he was almost disappointed when he
felt a hand on his shoulder and turning to dispel the distraction
came face to face with the man behind the whole thing, Elias
D'Ath.

"Well Sergeant Edwards!" smirked D'Ath, "This certainly isn't
what I expected.  You were brought here to be humiliated and
punished for your poor attitude towards fellow humans.  Now it
seems that you're starting to actually enjoy your new life."
D'Ath spat the words out, his eyes boring into the paling John
with a churning fury that made even the crowd of onlookers
uneasy.

D'Ath gathered himself up to his full height looking deeply into
John's eyes before speaking again.

"Listen to me carefully, copslave, you are not the master while
you are here, your only concern now is to please others and that
is what you will do from this moment on.  You will now return to
your room change into some clean clothes and think on how you
have displeased us here today, and how you can improve your
attitude.  When you come back I expect you to show how sorry you
are by entertaining my dinner guest tonight.  Is that
understood?"

"Yes master" Quavered John, suddenly filled with the terror he
thought he had left behind him earlier in the day.

"That is not all!"  Snapped the great man, his face flaming in
anger as he saw John turn to leave.

"How dare you attempt to leave without being dismissed!  From
this moment on, you will only be able to leave another man's
presence or speak in his company if you have received his direct
permission.  I also want you to be fully aware of what is going
on in your mind, yet powerless to stop it.  From now on you will
enjoy the acts you are going to perform yet will feel all the
revulsion and humiliation any normal heterosexual frat boy would
if he was forced to be a sex slave like you."

The glazed look of apathetic terror on John's face was at this
point replaced with a blush of red and a pained look that showed
more plainly than words how humiliated he felt.  Trying harder
than ever not to be turned on by the still prostrate form of
Clint on the chaise longue, John stood, rooted to the spot by his
powerful captor as his manhood continued to defy him in its
efforts to be free of his tight breeches.

"It seems you are learning young man" D'Ath sneered. "Now, you
will go with Robert, our butler, to your room, change and wait to
be summoned for dinner.  I take it you remember what a pleasant
experience changing can be don't you?"

"Yes, Sir"  John replied weakly, turning away from D'Ath as the
ever mute servant led him to the double doors at the end of the
room.

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Well, John's been fairly gently initiated into the world of the
sex slave--Where does he go now..?

If you have an idea what might make him blush, let me know:
uniform_master@hotmail.com