The Legion of Obedient Super-Slaves

Part 9



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.

This is a continuation of a story that began with files containing

Parts 1-8. You'll have alot more fun if you read those parts first!

[Summary so far: Slade Beatty has been made the partner of alien Znort, who is

supposed to protect the Earth from a potential invasion of powerful barbarians

by creating a league of superheroes, but instead does it for his own perverse



The following week, Slade made one of his periodic fun visits to Znort's

"lab". Znort was sorting through one of his bottomless drawers, and all

kinds of interesting looking objects were sitting on the counter. Slade

slyly inquired, "Any more fun stuff in here for me to play with? That

shiny oval thing looks like a giant throat lozenge..." Slade reached for


Znort laughed. "Well, that has a very unusual function. Unlike the other

devices, you can change a narrow slice of, let's call it 'reality', for

a small group of people, but it can extend back in time. When you change

the present, you are also changing the past to be consistent with it."

"Oh... I see. I guess. I don't know... can I try it? How does it work?"

"Well, you have to limit your altered reality to one person or a small

group of people. If you overreach, nothing will happen. And you should

have your idea fully formed before you activate it. If you don't, the

details will fill themselves in, often in ways you didn't expect."

Slade thought for awhile. "I think I have the perfect application for

this thing. Can you tell me how to use it?" He explained his idea to

Znort, who laughed. "Not bad, it's perverted, but in a GOOD way. Sure,

I'll show you how to use it."

Slade sat in the corner of the locker room, he tried to be as

inconspicuous as possible. As he put his hands around the short-range

reality reset device, he looked around. The loser wrestling team was

changing after practice. This gang had never won a meet, and it seemed

all of them, even the coach, were just going through the motions. The

school had not had a winning wrestling team in ten years; the

surrounding schools were just that good.

Meanwhile, Rob and Kelly Powers, brothers and members of the school's

unbeatable baseball team, were walking through that section of the

locker room on the way to their own area. Rob, a senior pitcher, 6'4",

blond and built, with a light dusting of straw-colored body hair, and

Kelly, 6'2", junior first baseman, brown-haired, smooth, and almost as

built as Rob, looked somewhat condescendingly down at the wrestlers as

they passed through. Winterfield had a tradition of great baseball

teams dating back to the time their father captained the team. Rex

Powers, still in great shape at 38, was a rich business owner in town.

Things always seemed to come easy to the Powers family, as they were

all good-looking, athletic, and popular. They always just seemed BETTER

than everyone else, although they didn't act overtly arrogant, and the

boys had never pushed people around at school.

But all that was about to change. Slade put his hands around the device,

concentrated on his alternate reality, and compressed the device. There

was a flash, and...

When the glare had cleared in Slade's eyes, the scene had changed, as

well as the facts behind the scene. Now, all seven members of the

CHAMPIONSHIP wrestling team were leaning across the bench, feet on

one side, heads on the other, their asses in the air, expectantly

awaiting their turns. Meanwhile, Rob and Kelly Powers, members of

Winterfield's totally weak baseball team, were busily engaged eating

out the asses of the wrestlers before they hit the showers. It was

their job to clean the sweat and other seepages out of the wrestlers,

and they LOVED their job. It was as if they were born to it. Which

they actually were.

Rob was particularly fond of the ass of Paul, the 120-pound sophomore

wrestler. The little guy's ass had such a delicious mix of flavors!

Rob could always tell how much of an effort Paul had put forth in a

match by the particular taste of the sweat he exuded afterwards. Rob

always did a particularly good job with Paul.

Kelly, on the other hand, was partial to the taste and smell of the

huge ass of Terry the heavyweight wrestler. Although Terry weighed

twice what he did, Kelly appreciated the delicate, subtle flavors of

Terry's post-match ass secretions.

"Come on, hurry it up, we need to get everyone done!" The coach came

by and noticed how many wrestlers were still waiting for their post-

practice ass cleanings. Rob raised his head out of Paul's ass. "Can't

rush it, coach, we gotta do it right!" And he dove right back in.

The coach pondered the problem. "Say, you two have a younger brother

who just turned 16, don't you? Isn't he old enough now to start

helping out here? We could get this done MUCH quicker." Jeffy Powers

was the star of the junior varsity baseball team, which was just as

hapless as the Winterfield varsity.

Kelly, having just finished with Terry, gave his ass one last loving

clean-up lick, and moved down the bench to start on the ass of the

next wrestler. "Yeah, that's right, coach. Jeffy's old enough now.

But he's just a rookie. Do you want to trust him to do this job with

your championship team?"

"Well, he's got to learn sometime, we need it and it's what you guys

do, isn't it? Aside from sucking at baseball, that is."

When they had finished cleaning out the asses of all the wrestlers,

Rob and Kelly took their turn in the showers. "I guess we should

get Jeffy involved, since he IS old enough now," said Rob to Kelly.

"Let's bring it up with dad tonight."

That evening, when Rex got back from his minimum-wage job at the

convenience store (his job in Slade's new reality), he found his two

older sons waiting to ask him about getting Jeffy started in ass-

cleaning at school. "Well, I guess it's what we Powers men do," said

Rex. "Plus, it pays several bucks an hour, and we certainly could use

that." As he contemplated his youngest son finally becoming old enough

to follow in his "tounguesteps", it brought back many old memories of

his school days...

Rex had been a member of Winterfield's pitiful baseball team back in

high school. So he could actually be of some USE to the athletic

department, he had been assigned as personal ass-cleaner to Kevin

Sheffield, star wrestler. Even after both had graduated, and Kevin

moved across town, they had kept up the relationship on occasion.

Every few years, Kevin would call Rex and have him come over and clean

out his ass. By coincidence, the most recent time had been the previous


Kevin had had a surprise for Rex. After Rex had finished his usual

superb job cleaning out Kevin's ass, Kevin had called his son Jeremy

down from his room. "My son just turned 16, so I've decided you're

going to initiate him into being an Assmaster. Oh, and don't call me

Kevin when he gets down. It wouldn't be right for him to see me

treating you as an equal. After all, you're NOT my equal, you're just

an ass-cleaner, while I'm an Assmaster, and you will address me as such.

Don't forget to do the same for Jeremy."

"Yes, Assmaster."

Jeremy came running down the stairs. "Yeah, dad?" He stopped in his

tracks when he saw his father's friend Rex kneeling naked beside his

dad. "Jeremy, you're 16 now, it's time you took your rightful place

as an Assmaster. To help you, I've brought my old ass-cleaner from

high school, Rex, to work your virgin master ass. He's really good

at it, he comes from a whole family of ass-cleaners, and he would

be honored to be your first ass slave."

Jeremy snickered inwardly. He was not quite the virgin Assmaster his

dad thought he was. At Springdale High, he had discovered -- and

enslaved -- two natural-born ass-cleaners. First, as a freshman, he

had cornered Blake, a senior captain of the football team, in the

locker room. Pretending to change while sitting on the bench, Jeremy

timed it so that he lifted his bare butt into the air just as Blake

bent down to put on his socks. The full, complex, captivating aroma

of Jeremy's master ass hit Blake full force. He froze in place, face

directly over Jeremy's aromatic ass, eyes glazing over as his mind

processed the signals pouring in from his super-sensitive ass-

cleaner's nose.

Jeremy looked over his shoulder with great satisfaction. He KNEW he

had been right about Blake. As the confused football captain stood

there, still bent at the waist, Jeremy wiggled his upraised butt

practically in Blake's face. "Kiss it," he commanded the entranced


Not knowing why he was compelled to do it, Blake plunged his mouth

not onto, but INTO, Jeremy's amazing ass. His lips met Jeremy's

pucker and locked in place. Jeremy giggled, "Hey, I want a FRENCH

kiss!" And immediately Blake's tongue shot out of his mouth and into

the middle of the remarkable flavors of the master ass. More totally

new sensations were flooding his brain, conveyed by his super sense

of taste.

Suddenly, Jeremy pulled his ass away. Blake, shocked, abruptly

straightened upright, staggered backwards and hit his head on the

door of his locker with a bang. He stared directly at Jeremy,

terrified of what had just happened. "You're my ass-cleaner now,"

Jeremy confidently informed the bewildered senior.

Blake's mind spun. ", NO! I... I can't be! I'm straight!

I... I have a girlfriend! You... you DID something to me!"

"Nope! Not true. My dad told me, some guys are just natural-born

ass-cleaners, and you're one of 'em. I've watched you for weeks.

I've seen your eyes get stuck on certain people's asses, including

mine. You may not even know it, but you were born this way, and

you're always gonna be this way. And like my dad, I'M a natural-

born Assmaster! We're just kind of superior to most people, but

we also give off a certain mixture of chemicals and, er, pher-,



"Yeah, that's it, the chemicals from inside and the 'pher' things

from the surface of our asses. They combine, and their effect is

much stronger because of the ass-cleaner's powerful sense of smell.

See, to an ordinary person my ass would smell just like, well, ASS!

I mean, it might turn on certain gay people, but it wouldn't, like,

lock into their brains permanently, making them NEED to get their

noses and tongues into my ass!" As Blake listened to Jeremy's

explanation, the horrible truth of it became apparent. He had always

known his senses of smell and taste were incredibly more sensitive

than others', but NOW he knew what they were FOR!

"Are you the only Assmaster in school?"

"I dunno, but my dad tells me that true Assmasters are very rare.

That's why many people don't even know that we exist. But ass-

cleaners are more common. There should be a few more around the

school. All I've gotta do is watch their eyes!"

And in the following months, Blake's personal and social life

revolved more and more around getting his nose and tongue into

Jeremy's master ass. In a way, Blake was lucky. In Slade's new

reality, some natural-born ass-cleaners never found out what they

truly were, and never met an Assmaster to serve. With their skills,

they became chefs, restaurant reviewers, wine tasters, perfume

makers. Yet they felt a yearning that couldn't be fully satisfied

with just their professions or family lives. While other chefs and

food workers tended to get fat on the job, natural ass-cleaners

kept themselves in really good shape, although perhaps they didn't

know why they needed to do so. Until the first time an natural ass-

cleaner's nose got right above the butt of a true Assmaster, or his

tongue got inside one, he was just half a man.

In his sophomore year, Jeremy snagged a teacher. Having suspected

him for months, Jeremy finally went in after school to see his 23-

year-old biology teacher in his office. "Mr. Lyman, there's a

strange growth on my ass. I'm afraid to show it to anyone. Could

you look at it and tell me whether I need to worry about it?"

"Hmmm, you should probably see a doctor about something like that."

"Nah, I'm afraid to see a doctor, this might be nothing and he'd

laugh at me. I'd really feel more comfortable if you looked first."

Within an hour, Mr. Lyman was kneeling in his own living room with

his tongue deep in Jeremy's ass. He knew it could cost him his job

and his very livelihood, but there wasn't much he could do about

it. Besides, the feeling he was getting in those minutes of eating

out Jeremy seemed almost worth the rest of his life anyway.

Over the next year, Mr. Lyman's house was the venue for many bizarre

scenes involving Jeremy, Mr. Lyman and Blake. Jeremy had his ass-

cleaners use their sexual skills on each other so he could learn

the limits of male sexual performance. He also had them play out

fantasy scenes while he sat on Mr. Lyman's recliner and jerked off.

One of his favorites involved Blake wearing a gladiator costume he

had been forced to buy, and having him tie Mr. Lyman, dressed in a

slave outfit, to the bed frame. Blake would then force the slim

teacher/slave to worship and lick his bulging muscles while he

threatened the slave with a whip. All while Jeremy sipped a drink

and watched...

Anyhow, Ron Taylor was blissfully unaware of this little history

of his son's. As Jeremy stripped, Rex's supersensitive nose caught

a whiff of the most incredible scent he had ever experienced. Rex

immediately knew that Jeremy's master ass far outstripped his father's

in aroma, looks, and, he was sure, taste. He grew very excited, and

the state of his significant cock showed it. Rex's equipment was

considerably larger than Ron's or Jeremy's, but of course that didn't

matter to any of them. The Sheffields were Assmasters, and the Powers

were ass-cleaners, and that fully explained the relationship.

When Jeremy's Assmaster initiation was over, and Rex had recovered

somewhat from the heavenly experience, Kevin put him out his back

door, tossing his clothes behind him. Normally, he wouldn't have

done that, but he was trying to teach Jeremy the appropriate way a

true Assmaster should treat a lowly ass-cleaner. It was for their

own good, and besides, they preferred it that way.

As Rex sat at the dinner table with his three sons, the phone rang.

Rex took it in the back room, and when he came back, he had a strange

expression on his face. "That was Kevin Sheffield."

"Oh, your old school friend?" asked Rob.

"Well, to tell the truth, he was a bit more than that. Did I ever

tell you what an Assmaster is?"

"No, but we've heard stories. I thought that was just a legend."

"No, sons, it's real, and Kevin was mine. Now Kevin has a son,

Jeremy, at Springdale High, and he's on the wrestling team there.

And it seems your school is having a meet against them next week.

He's asked me to bring you three over to visit this evening for a

few hours, to meet Jeremy. I think he wants Jeremy to become

Assmaster to the three of you."

"But... but he'll be competing against our wrestlers. How can we

let a guy from an opposing team become our Assmaster?"

"I don't know, son, but it's not like we have a choice in the

matter. The Sheffields are Assmasters, and we're just ass-cleaners,

so we've got to go over there. I think you'll discover that what

you've been experiencing with the wrestling team at school is

nothing near what you'll experience with Assmaster Jeremy."

When the Powers arrived, Jeremy was in his favorite position, lying

on his side in a recliner in the living room. As soon as they entered

the room, Rex told his three sons, "Strip, so we can show Assmaster

Jeremy what we've got." Soon, three very buff and hung baseball teen

bodies were showing, plus one great adult body, and Jeremy liked what

he saw. "So, you're Rob, Kelly, and Jeffy. I've heard about the good

work you do with the Winterfield wrestlers. I wanna see what you can

do with a real Assmaster!" And just then, the magic aroma of Jeremy's

ass hit the helpless ass-cleaners' super sense of smell. Rex had

known what to expect, but nothing his sons had experienced in the

locker room had prepared them for the full force of this. Their faces

blanked as their conscious minds gave way to their subconscious

yearnings. Jeremy noted with approval that all three Powers sons were

hung as big as their dad, far bigger than himself, and they were now

all fully erect from having smelled him.

Rob stepped forward. "Assmaster, please let me serve your ass." Jeremy

said, "I know you're the oldest brother at 18, but I think your brother

Kelly has a cuter face, and a slightly larger cock. I'm going to give

him first rights to serve my ass. Rob, you may serve my cock and balls.

I think you'll find the flavor there is still better than anything you've

ever tasted from the asses of those stupid Winterfield wrestlers. And

Jeffy, I give you the privilege of licking the sweat off my feet. I

know you're new at this, so I'll help train you by kicking you away if

you do it wrong. NOW!" And the three Powers boys flew to their assigned

stations around the body of their Assmaster.

Once they started on their duties, they found that their senses had

been heightened like never before. They wanted to do the best job they

could so they would be allowed back to serve Jeremy's body. Rex felt

left out as he knelt at the side of the room. Jeremy saw this, and felt

sorry for the old guy. "Rex, to you I give the task of eating out Kelly's

ass while he serves mine." This was a new one for Rex; an ass-cleaner

eating the ass of another ass-cleaner? But he dutifully set out to do

the job.

The four family ass-cleaners sniffed and slurped their way through their

assigned duties with distinction. Having all of them working away so

completely engrossed in their work put Jeremy over the top fairly

quickly, and he provided Rob with a surprise protein supplement for his

troubles. Sated, he then shooed the four of them away from the recliner.

Jeremy then spoke: "OK, here's the deal. I'm your Assmaster now. Next

week, before the meet, I want you to do a lousy job on Winterfield's

pre-meet ass lubrication. I want those guys tense and still sweaty

inside. I'm sure you can do it so no one notices it. Once your team

loses the meet, I want them to win all the rest of their meets so our

team can win the league. So I'll teach you some ass-cleaning techniques

I learned about from my dad that will make your team practically


"In the meantime, each evening, I want the four of you to lie on the

floor at home in a circle, and practice on each other's asses. Rob,

you work on Kelly's ass, since he's my main ass-cleaner now. Jeffy,

you learn on Rob's ass. Rex, you'll be eating out Jeffy. And of course

that means Kelly, you'll practice on the most experienced ass of all,

your dad's. I want you to be the best ass-cleaning slave family in the

area. Because you're MINE!" All four Powers men felt a rush of pride at

being owned by such a fine young Assmaster.

"Now, get outta here, I'm done with you!" The Powers family grabbed

their clothes and ran out the back door, got dressed and drove home.

Now that they knew that Assmasters were not just a myth, the lives of

the Powers boys were forever changed. And Slade's new reality became

the only reality that ever was...

[Should I continue this? Feedback and suggestions appreciated.]