The headmaster pt2
- 1 year ago
- 51
- 0
That's An Order - Pt.2 free porn video
Alan turned round to see where the voice was coming from. The person he
saw was a stranger to him - a man in his mid to late 30s with thick black
rimmed glasses, untidy stubble and a balding hairline, and a sizable beer
gut that hung over his black jeans. The man was around 6ft tall,
considerably taller than the 5 foot 6 figure Alan now had.
Alan almost felt a perverse sense of relief. Whoever this was, the body
he was in right now was leagues ahead of this loser. He certainly didn't
look like a mastermind capable of pulling whatever particular brand of
shit this was, anyway. Alan tried to focus; he needed to find out what
this fat dork knew and then he could go about finding the real culprits.
The strange man in front of Alan leaned forward to give him a hug,
catching him completely off guard. Before he had a chance to get away,
the man had tightly wrapped his arms around him and pulled him so close
that he could smell the stale stench of B.O on the unfamiliar man's neck.
The man whispered in Alan's ear. "Don't shout, don't try and run away,
don't try to attract attention to yourself. You are going to hold my hand
and walk around this nature reserve with me, and if anybody says anything
to you directly you're going to smile sweetly and look at me. That's an
order."
Once the man let go of Alan, his immediate reaction was to run as far
away in any direction as he could. But he just stood there. The man
assessed Alan, smiling somewhat, trying to gauge how much resistance Alan
had to his commands. Alan tried with all his might just to even get his
foot off the floor. Nothing. He felt the man's obese sweaty hands grip
his dainty fingers and, as he set off walking, Alan was powerless to do
anything other than follow.
"Who the fuck are you and why are you doing this?!" Alan said, trying to
shout but instead coming out barely louder than a whisper. For the first
time, he heard his new voice. It was resonant of a posh girly girl, the
type that owned horses and lived on daddy's money. Alan cringed.
"Well now, that's not very nice language Emily." His captor replied.
"My name's not Emily you sicko, it's Alan."
"Oh really?" The man replied, with a level of amusement in his voice.
"Let's see. From now on you can only think of yourself as being called
Emily. That's the only name you go by and the name you answer to. You
won't forget your old name, you'll just be unable to tell people. That's
an order."
"What did you just do?!"
"See for yourself. Tell me your name."
"Easy, my name is Emily. Wait.... No, that's not right! It's Emily! It's
not Emily, it's Emily!" Alan became hysterical whilst keeping his
discontent to a low whisper as per his previous command. His captor was
smirking like a Cheshire Cat, clearly loving the internal torment he was
bestowing upon his victim.
As his captor led him on a slow walk around the nature reserve, Alan took
stock of his situation. He was captive, completely dependent on this
stranger's demands. He shuddered to think about what this perverted prick
had in store for him, and just what he could do to him if he wanted to.
The thought of someone else having so much power over him made Alan feel
queasy and light headed.
"Who are you?" Alan asked, the quiver in his voice showing his fear.
"You really don't recognise me, do you? You cut in front of me yesterday
at the coffee shop. You humiliated me in front of everyone, treated me
like a little bitch. Before I went to bed last night I got down on my
knees for the first time in my life and I prayed. I prayed, Emily, that I
could somehow have the chance to make you my little bitch. And look what
happened."
"You've got to change me back!" Alan pleaded.
"What?!" Replied the man. "Absolutely not. I've waited my whole life for
this. Women have always rejected me, nobody has ever taken me seriously.
Well, God gave me a gift. A pretty little girl who has to do everything I
tell her. That's not something you just give up!"
"What are you going to do to me?"
"I haven't decided yet."
Alan was trying to think of a way out of his situation. Clearly right now
he was in severe danger. Two words from this man and he could end up his
slave for life. He had to bide his time, wait for the man to leave, and
then cut all ties and disappear off the face of the earth. The
alternative did not bear thinking about.
They approached the end of the nature reserve in silence - Alan not
wanting to risk upsetting his captor, who in turn was marvelling at his
new found toy, wondering exactly what to do next.
"Are you at least going to tell me your name?" asked Alan.
"You can call me Sir. At all times. That's an order."
Great, thought Alan. Another order he was compelled to obey.
"In fact," continued Sir, "I think you should give me a blowjob right
here. There's nobody around. If that mouth of yours is going to keep
asking questions we might as well put it to good use."
"Aren't you going to command me to, Sir?" said Alan, immediately cringing
at how instinctive his new command took hold.
"Oh no, you're going to do this of your own choice. Because if you don't,
then the consequences will be far worse."
"Fuck you! I'm not sucking your dick you loser!" Alan spat back. The
colour in Sir's face drained. Alan regretted his outburst immediately.
"Fine, have it your way. Firstly, you are not to cut contact with me or
to try and escape. That's an order." Alan's hopes of freedom were dashed
in an instant.
"Secondly. From now on, you are going to start thinking more and more
about cocks. Men's cocks. What they taste like. How they feel in your ass
and your mouth. It's going to be all you ever think about. You're going
to find your mind constantly wandering to thoughts about cocks. You're
going to be checking out the crotches of every adult man you see, hoping
to catch a glimpse of their cock. You are going to be cock obsessed.
That's an order."
Alan stood dumbfounded as suddenly the changes Sir had outlined began to
take hold. His mind flooded with graphic imagery as cocks became his new
favourite pastime - his favourite sports team was replaced by thoughts of
cock, the TV shows he liked watching now seemed irrelevant as did the
music taste he'd developed as they too were erased - now when he tried to
think about The Sporanos or The Rolling Stones, instead his mind was
consumed by thoughts of dicks. Strangers dicks. His friend's dicks. But
most of all, Sir's dick.
"P-Please s-sir," Alan stuttered, "I need to s-suck your c-c-cock." He
winced at how pathetic he sounded.
Sir smiled, an evil grin that stretched tightly across his face. He moved
in close to Emily and spanked her ass, making Alan let out an adorable
yelp. As Sir pulled her in tightly, his hand crept in between her legs
and began roughly rubbing her slit over the tight black leggings she'd
been compelled to wear.
"Tell me how much you want to suck my cock. I want to hear you beg" Sir
said.
"I n-need it! Please, I'll do a-anything! You can do whatever you l-like
to me Sir just p-please let me suck your cock." Alan said, squirming in
arousal. He knew he should be bothered about being out in public and
whether anyone was watching him - here he was as a young girl getting
rubbed to sexual frustration by a fat slop and *begging* him to let her
suck his cock - and yet none of that seemed to bother Alan. The thought
of being seen didn't cross his mind. It was like his mind was so consumed
with thoughts of cocks that there was little room for anything else.
Alan became aware that a small but still very noticeable damp patch had
appeared on his leggings. His thong was soaked. Still he didn't care.
"Please let me suck your dick" he said as sweetly as he could, licking
his lips to further seal the deal.
"Well, since you asked so nicely...." Sir said. "No."
"W-w-what?" Alan replied. "You can't do this to me! Please! It's not
fair!" In Alan's whispered posh girly voice it sounded more like a
teenage temper tantrum than anything to be taken seriously.
"I said NO" Sir responded, firmly enough to let Alan know that a debate
was not on the cards. "I don't want to hear another word out of you for
the rest of our walk. Oh, speaking of walks, I read the other day that
when a woman walks with her ass stuck out, swaying her hips from side to
side, it makes men's cocks twitch in their pants."
It was another mile before the end of the nature reserve walk, during
which they both stayed in silence the whole time. Alan was praying not to
see anyone else on the walk, aside from the humiliation of being in
public as a young woman on the arm of some obese slop, the wet patch on
his leggings was clearly noticeable, even at a distance.
One more thing Alan noticed was that, even though seeing another human
being was the last thing on earth he wanted, his ass now stuck out when
he walked and his hips rolled from side to side, as though his butt was
begging for an audience. He hadn't been specifically ordered to walk this
way, but the mere suggestion of it being an effective way to get cock was
all that was required to completely rewrite his muscle memory.
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