The Trouble With Triplets
Disclaimer: This is a work of erotic fiction. If you are under 18, or are offended by the idea of male-male sex or mind control, DO NOT read this.
This is the continuation of the story begun in Parts 1-3 in an earlier file. You'll have much more fun with this if you read those parts first.
Reader feedback is appreciated. It helps me determine what and whether to write!
The next day, the triplets took a "cut day" from West High. Danny, the youngest of the three by several minutes, had the idea to do it. He had some prep work to do at Hoover High before that afternoon's workout and brotherly competition that would decide who would "run" the family. Danny had already taken advantage of a mistake by team masters Greg and Tim that allowed him to program weaknesses into each of his brothers. He used those weaknesses to easily get them to go along with the cut day: after putting him under, Danny had told Rob Jr. that the Hoover team's little Mexican-American kicker demanded that Junior service his cock that day, or he would beat Junior up. That got the zonked Junior both scared and highly aroused. And Danny had promised Brett a free load down his throat with no begging, if Brett would help out at Hoover that day. Of course, neither Junior nor Brett knew the real reason for the school visit, to convince Master Greg to use his considerable skills to put them both permanently under the absolute command of Danny.
As the triplets entered the school, they split up. Under Danny's direction, Junior went in search of Javier, Brett took off to find and quietly follow Master Greg, and Danny went to the coach's office. Since it was before the first P.E. class, the area was mostly deserted. As Danny entered the office, the coach looked up in surprise. Immediately giving the hand gesture, Danny said, "Team is obedience", and the coach's eyes went dull as he intoned, "Obedience is team." Danny mused at the power anyone could have knowing the gesture and phrase. Master Greg obviously wanted Tim and other assistants to be able to use it, so he hadn't restricted its use to just him. But that opened the door to the observant triplets the night before. First, Brett had used it to give his brother Junior a serious humiliation fetish, and then Danny had placed an inferiority/worship complex towards him in Brett. Now, it opened up a whole new world for Danny.
Danny said, "Coach, I'm going to need your office for a couple of hours. It's for the team. Could you go home and jerk off looking at this?" He handed the coach a photo of the triplets in their West High uniforms. The coach took the photo, mumbled "Home... jerk off... yes," and left the office. A few minutes later, a reverent-looking Rob Jr. came into the office with a concerned Javier. Seeing Brett sitting in the coach's chair, he said, "Your brother told me that coach wants to see me?" Danny smiled, raised his hand, said "Team is obedience," and the little kicker's eyes glazed over ...
About an hour later, an excited Brett came bursting into the coach's office. He was all ready to spill the news, when he saw the amazing sight: on one side of the office, completely naked, were his big brother Junior, whom he had turned into a humiliation-craving bottom boy, cowering on his back in the corner, with the 5'3" baby-faced kicker towering over him, stomping him, calling him names. Both of them were totally erect, the domineering Javier with his 3-inch rod and the cowering Junior at his full over-9-inch glory despite his situation, or more likely because of it. Meanwhile, Junior's "little" brother Danny sat behind the coach's desk, his 6'6" frame sprawled over the coach's chair, big hands behind his head, fully clothed with his copious muscles pushing through his wife-beater shirt and his basket straining against his tight shorts, with his sandals off, his huge bare feet on top of the desk. And kneeling on the desktop fully dressed was Jansen, the "prettiest" member of the Hoover team, with his long straight brown hair cut over his eyes and delicate facial features. His long, slim, tightly-muscled smooth body was fully on display, as was his seven-inch erect cock. Jansen's eyes were closed, and he was intently bathing the soles of Danny's oversized feet with his long tongue. He seemed to have a content look on his face, as if he knew he was fulfilling his true purpose in life. Brett felt a twinge of jealousy that Jansen was slurping on Danny's foot sweat that was rightfully HIS. But his attention was soon riveted on the action in the corner of the office.
"You overgrown piece of shit!" screamed Javier, as he continued to stomp on Junior. "I told you NO TEETH! Don't a pussyboy like you know how to give a proper blowjob?" Junior whined at the blows of Javier's feet. "You gotta show proper respect to this cock!" Javier said, grabbing his hard little dick with his hand and waving it around. This excited Junior so much his hand went for his own cock. Immediately Javier's skilled foot lashed out and kicked away Junior's hand painfully. "No way, you leave that worthless donkey dong alone, you concentrate on MY dick! That's your only value in life, you fuck!"
The bell rang, and Javier swore. "Gotta get to class, damn it! You fucking failed at a simple blowjob! Just for that I oughtta punk you in front of the whole team, you worthless piece of shit!" With that, he spit a giant gob onto Junior's upturned, miserable face, gave one last swift kick to Junior's exposed crotch, grabbed his clothes, and left to change in the adjacent locker room. Once he was sure Javier was gone and he was safe, Junior grabbed his cock with both hands and within seconds shot his load across the office. But with the deep humiliation he had just been through, he found himself hard again within a couple of minutes.
Through all this, Jansen calmly continued his job on Danny's feet, by this time lovingly licking between his toes. Jansen knew the routine from having faithfully served his own team's quarterback Tom all year, mostly responding immediately to Tom's various physical desires. Danny's redirecting him to serve Danny didn't bother him any, in fact didn't register on his hypnozonked consciousness at all. He felt he was just doing what he was born to do. Prior to this year, his cute face, pageboy-cut hair and athletic body made him popular among the girls, but this year he had no time for them, spending all his spare time pleasing Tom so that Tom would perform well on Friday night.
While Junior whined softly in the corner, and Jansen contentedly licked away at his all-important job, Brett described to Danny what he had discovered while performing his morning task.
Soon after the triplets had gotten to Hoover High that morning, Brett spotted Greg in the hallway. The job Danny assigned to him was to follow Greg and report on his activities outside of class. Following closely behind Greg was Tim, Greg's "assistant" of team control. As the first bell rang, the hallway emptied into various classrooms. But Greg and Tim didn't go into a classroom. Instead, they went into a teacher's office at the end of the hall. Going inside, they left the door slightly ajar so they could hear if anyone was coming. But since the first period had already begun, they were confident no one would come by this office accidentally. Brett took advantage of the situation, hiding by the door. From his angle, reflected on a mirror inside the office, Brett could glimpse Greg but not Tim. But he could hear everything that was going on.
"...happened last night?" said Greg, impatiently. "I expected to find you downstairs with the triplets once I finished programming Junior. Instead I find everyone gone! What the hell happened?"
"Well, I had to get the drugs for today before it was too late. And I figured you'd be down in a minute..."
"You FORGOT the drugs?? How could you? And you left the triplets ALONE while they were being programmed! I have to trust you to do certain things for me. I know this whole thing was your idea, but you wouldn't have had the balls to do it without me, would you? Plus, I've made you very happy as my sidekick, haven't I? I gave you your own personal football player pet, didn't I? And I thought I built in enough loyalty to you that your priorities would be straight. Well, I see we need to do some reinforcement."
"Wait..." said Tim, but it was too late. Greg raised his arm in a gesture -- different from the one Brett had seen before -- and said, "Control is power." Immediately, Tim went limp and said, "Power is control." "Strip," ordered Greg, to make sure his command had been fully effective. Tim took off his clothes and stood there with his seven-inch cock erect. Greg stared a bit, and said, "I'm always amazed at how big that thing looks on your tight little sophomore bod. It's almost an inch bigger than mine. If I didn't have Frankie... Well, let's get to work.
"Tim, you must NEVER FORGET that you serve me first and foremost..."
Tim mumbled "...serve you..."
"And the team needs are my needs, and my needs are YOUR needs..."
"And you will remember this at all times. Or I will have Lance remember who he really is. And then he'll probably kill you! Now get dressed and get out. My Frankie has study hall, and I could use a good blowjob about now." As Tim dressed, Greg pulled out his cellphone and speed- dialed his lineman sex slave, who would soon feel a vibration in his pants, and would stand up and ask for a hall pass. Brett quickly fled down the hall before Tim left the room.
As Brett told Danny all this, Danny thoughtfully rubbed his saliva-sticky right foot in Jansen's beautiful head of well cared-for brown hair, while Jansen happily worked his tongue over the left one. "Wow, so Tim is owned by Greg. I wonder if Greg was just as careless with Tim as he was with the whole team? He might have figured no one would find out Tim's gesture and phrase since he would never use them in front of other people. Well, Brett, bring Tim here if you can find him before this period ends. Meanwhile, Jansen kitty, good job with my feet. As a reward, you may lick up the delicious cream on the floor and wall," said Danny, pointing to where Junior's cum was still lying in puddles. "Meow," said Jansen in a high-pitched voice; he then leapt agilely off the desk, moved gracefully on all fours to where the cum puddles were, and started purring and licking contentedly.
On his way out the door, Brett giggled. "You made him a cat?"
"Yeah, well, I guess Greg and Tim are dog people, I'm more of a cat person. You know, 'cause that's what we had as kids. Remember Sir Catworthy? I only hope Jansen measures up to that great old cat. Before you go, Brett... you know all about our control phrase, you used it to make Junior here a puling pussyboy. You're not mad that I used it to make you worship and obey me?"
Brett smiled. "Why should I? I've always admired you, wished I could be you, wanted to make love to you. Even when I was fucking a chick I always wished it was YOU fucking ME. Once you changed me, you made it all possible." Danny smiled inside, realizing some of this "history" had been put there by Danny's own programming. "And what about you, Danny? Aren't you unhappy that Greg turned us all into faggots? I mean, I remember we were doing pretty well with the chicks."
Danny said, "Hell no. I mean, it was never difficult getting a chick into bed. We aren't too bad looking, and we're from a famous family. But then the chick wouldn't always want to do what I wanted, or the way I wanted it. Sometimes she'd complain I was 'too big' and would try to stop me getting inside her. Or she wanted to do something in her 'special' way. It was always some kind of compromise between what I wanted and what she wanted.
"But now, I can get exactly what I want, the way I want it. You saw that little kicker? His mouth is kind of small, and his throat is not that long. But if I wanted him to, he'd learn to deep-throat my nine-and-a-half incher. In fact, he'd BEG me to let him learn how to do it. He'd become obsessed with it, and want to practice it all the time until he got to be GREAT at it. And if I wanted it, he'd drop to his hands and knees, wiggle his cute little ass and beg me to fuck him, even though my cock is longer than his body is front to back. He would come to crave the pain. So why should I miss the old days? All I care is that I get WHAT I want, WHEN I want it. And I have that now, in spades! What about you, Junior?"
But Junior wasn't listening. Earlier, Javier had rushed out putting his shoes right on his bare feet, leaving his socks behind. Junior had found one of the socks, and was using it to jerk off. Since his cock was bigger than Javier's feet, it barely got all the way down to the root, but it was big enough for the job. Just as Danny asked the question, Junior shot his load into Javier's old sock, spurt after spurt, filling it and then overfilling it, causing it to drip everywhere.
Brett and Danny had to laugh. Danny said, "Well, I guess that's one more vote for the way things are now. Here, kitty!" At this, Jansen gently leapt back onto the desk and purred while Danny stroked his hair. "OK, Brett, now go find Tim and we'll see what we can learn."
Tim stood, naked and erect, in his trance, facing Danny at the coach's desk. Jansen was in class, back to his human self, except for the occasional tendency to lick his hand or shoulder. Junior, sitting on the floor in the corner, got a bit excited when Tim came in -- at 5'5", skinny and smooth, Tim was the right body type to be Junior's absolute master -- but then his excitement wore off when he once again saw Tim's seven-inch cock. Tim was actually too much of a man for Junior's taste. Junior went back to absent- mindedly chewing on Javier's cum-sock.
Brett and Danny were eager for answers. "Remember, Tim, everything you tell us must be the absolute truth. How did he do it?" asked Danny. "How did Greg program the team to respond to his control gesture and phrase? And how did WE get snagged? We're not on the team and I don't remember ANYTHING!"
"Videos... he uses videos for programming... My idea, my videos..."
"YOUR idea? So how did HE get to be in charge?"
"Don't know... must have tricked me somehow... but I'm glad... to be his..."
Danny said to Brett, "I guess we can assume that Greg put that last part in there himself."
"No..." Tim spoke up unexpectedly. "I never would have had the nerve to do this... never have gone this far... beyond my fantasies for two little gay boys to have complete mind control of a football team..."
Brett said, "I vaguely remember seeing some sort of orientation video when we first came to the school. I don't really remember anything about it. And, wait, maybe there were more later. I don't remember where, when. How can we be unprogrammed?"
"Don't know ... but it wears off unless there's reinforcement ..."
"And I suppose we can safely assume that GREG can't be easily taken. I mean, he won't sit still for a 'video'..."
Danny replied, "Hmmm, not if he knows what's going on. But Tim here got tricked, maybe we can think of some way to fool Greg. But that's for later. I've got the big event this afternoon to plan for. Junior, you look like you need help again." Sure enough, Rob Jr. was hard once more! "Tim, you had Junior's mouth working for you yesterday. I think it's only fair that you return the favor. Get down there now!" Tim flopped immediately to the floor. "Order him to feed you from his donkey dong. Be mean about it. And hide your cock so Junior doesn't see it." Tim lay flat on his stomach next to Junior, snarled, "Feed me from your donkey dong," and raised his fist. Junior recoiled but remained hard, and offered his cock for Tim to use. Tim began working Junior's cock with his little mouth. All Junior could see was Tim's pretty face and the small smooth body. It was his master demanding to be fed, and so Junior felt obligated to feed him. His master would probably beat him up if he didn't. So a few moments later, Junior fulfilled his obligation. Tim took it all like the puppet he was.
As Tim recovered from the experience with the last of Junior's cum dribbling down his pale chin, Danny wrapped up the session. "Okay, Tim, here are your instructions. You will forget everything that happened here. But you will know you are helping us to get control of Greg and the team. But no matter how you feel about it, you won't be able to tell Greg. You will act as you normally do from this point on. Now get dressed and go to your next class."
Greg and Tim sat in their chairs in the workout room, attended to by their pet linemen between their legs. With their heightened doggie senses, both Lance and Frankie could tell that something was troubling their masters, so they were working extra hard with their tongues and noses, doing their puppy best to please and comfort their masters.
Today was to be a special day, with the "team initiation" and competition of the Chadler triplets, but the workout was not going well. Greg noticed that Jansen was not really attending to Tom's needs, and was just going through the motions. Not even a shock or two on the obedience collar seemed to help. And every once in awhile it almost seemed as if he was trying to lick his own balls. As limber as he was, he couldn't quite do it. Also, Javier the kicker seemed to be seething with an inner rage that didn't belong there. He was working out at double speed, and it seemed to have nothing to do with team unity.
Greg also felt a bit distrustful of Tim and his carelessness. He worried about what happened with the triplets after they left his home by themselves the night before. And Tim, for his part, wanted to show his programmed-in undying loyalty to Greg, but couldn't bring himself to say anything about having helplessly become a tool of the triplets.
Greg called out: "Jansen, get over here!" The pretty- boy player rose distractedly and walked towards Greg. As he got near, both Frankie and Lance turned their heads and growled softly, while Jansen's neck hair seemed to stand upright for a moment and Greg thought he heard a hiss from Jansen. What was going on here?
"Jansen, what's wrong with you? Why aren't you helping Tom more?" demanded Greg.
Jansen tried to talk, but experienced some kind of "brain lock". His master was commanding him to tell something, but he knew he was forbidden to talk about it. His mouth kept opening and shutting as his subconscious tried to resolve the issue. Finally, his mouth opened, and out came a timid "Meow."
This was too much for Frankie and Lance. The two beefy linemen jumped away from their posts between their masters' legs and chased after Jansen. The lithe naked junior scampered towards the climbing rope in the corner of the room and shot straight up it. Frankie and Lance loped to the bottom of the rope and barked angrily up at Jansen, who was definitely hissing now as his thick brown hair fell over his eyes.
The sudden disturbance seemed to knock some of the other players in the room partway out of their trance, and Greg sensed things spiraling out of his control. He clapped his hands to prematurely end the workout. Coach, confused, stood in front of the group and, as always, re-tranced them with the gesture and phrase. Frankie, Lance and Jansen immediately forgot their quarrel, and Jansen came down the rope.
Greg interruped Coach's ritual end-of-workout speech. "Guys, there is only one more team workout period before the championship game, and that's tomorrow. And I hope it goes better than this one! It's our last chance to make ourselves perfect, and we need to make the most of it. We'll have the triplets' initiation wrestling match at the end of that workout instead of today. In the meantime, Jansen and Javier, you are to report to Frankie's house at 7 o'clock tonight for a special reinforcement session. I can't do it at my place since my folks will be home, and anyway Frankie's house has a far better video installation than mine. Dismissed!" The team began to disperse.
Greg turned to his side. "Tim, have you been playing around with any of these guys without my knowledge?"
Almost before the question was over, Tim was saying, "No Greg you know I am totally loyal and would do anything for you just as you told me to do I know nothing about this please Greg you know I believe in you..." Tim ran on and on without pause.
Greg interrupted him: "Stop." Tim shut up. "Tim, there's something going on and I need to find out what it is. You come over to Frankie's tonight, too. I think we need to have a long talk until I find out what's going on."
"Sure Greg, I'll be there."
The team was gone...
At seven o'clock that night, Greg, Tim, Jansen, and Javier showed up at the doorstep of Frankie's house. Frankie lived in a really nice part of town. His parents had built him a room out of the basement, with his own workout equipment and video wall. They did this when the team began to perform so well, it seemed clear Frankie might eventually get a scholarship to a good football school. But Greg found out about it, too, and decided to use it for his own purposes. He had Frankie show his family a set of specially crafted videos on the new projection TV screen in his room. Each DVD had made them want to see the next one. And by the time they had finished them, their lifestyle had changed a bit. The fruits of this were to be apparent this evening.
When all four students had finally arrived on the doorstep, Greg knocked on the door. Frankie's mom came out and greeted them. "Hi guys, we're just having a late dinner. Do you want to join us?"
As they walked in, Greg said, "No, Mrs. Anello, we've got work to do." As they walked through the dining room, they noticed that places were set at the table for Frankie's mom, dad, and younger brother, but Frankie himself was on all fours in the corner eating from a dog dish. He was wearing nothing but a normal dog collar with bells and a tag. When Frankie saw his master enter the room, he ran right over and jumped on Greg's leg in an excited greeting. His frantic licking got dog food all over Greg's pants, as Greg said "Down, boy, down." Frankie's mom said, "I'd like to apologize for Frankie, he's just happy to see you."
"That's OK, Mrs. Anello. We're just on our way down to do some work in his, er, kennel."
"Well, that's great, Greg. I'm glad Frankie has a good master at school that he can learn obedience from. You've really improved his life. All our lives, actually. Joey tries to train him to do tricks" -- she indicated Frankie's younger brother -- "but he clearly learns more when you come around."
"Thank you, ma'am. And we'd like to bring a pitcher of your great lemonade down with us." Greg knew Mrs. Anello was under instructions to keep a pitcher of drugged lemonade in her refrigerator at all times to help with their weekly reinforcement video night. Greg was going to need some of it this evening.
"Sure, Greg. Here you go," said Mrs. Anello, handing him the pitcher. With that, the four students went down the stairs to Frankie's kennel, formerly his room. Frankie came bounding down behind them on all fours, tongue out, big muscles flexing, collar bells jingling.
Greg carried the reinforcement DVDs with him. It was time for him to find out what was going wrong -- and how to fix it in time for the big game. Otherwise, if the game was lost, the Chadlers would never transfer the triplets to Hoover High and into his control, and his plans for the future success of his player-slaves would be jeopardized.
Naked Frankie sensed the tension in Greg. "Arf!" he exclaimed, looking up at his master from all fours and licking his hand. Greg tousled Frankie's hair while he contemplated the job ahead of him...
* * *
Okay, who will win this war of wills? Any ideas for me? (And do enough people care that I should continue this?)
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