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											| Mergers & Acquisitions 
 by Wrestlr
 
 [M/M, MC, hypno]
 
 [Synopsis: The jock fraternity is reaching out to the other campus
 frats-and reeling them in.  Another "InFiltration" story.]
 
 Disclaimer: There's sex, sodomy, and maybe a few other minor perversions
 in this.  If you don't like that sort of thing, read something else.
 Everybody in the  is legal age.  Parts of this  may be
 autobiographical, or it might be all fiction--who can say?
 
 Copyright - 2002 by Wrestlr.  Permission granted to archive if and only
 if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read
 the file.  If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use
 this without the express permission of (and payment to) the author.  This
 paragraph must be included as part of any archive.
 
 Comments to wrestlr@iname.com
 
 Wrestlr's fiction is archived at the following URLs:
 
 * http://members.tripod.com/~Brock_J (MC and general M/M stories, plus
 my home page)
 
 * http://www.asstr.org/~wrestlr (MC and general M/M stories, mirror
 site)
 
 * http://www.asstr.org/~mcstories/Authors/Wrestlr.html (MC stories)
 
 * * *
 
 Mergers & Acquisitions
 
 Think of me as "Mr.  Mergers & Acquisitions."
 
 I'm the Pledgemaster this year.  You probably think that means I make a
 bunch of freshman  recite the Greek alphabet backward and thank me for
 giving them spankings and shit like that, in return for the possibility of
 proving themselves worthy to join our fraternity.  Sure, that is part of
 it--but there's so much more going on that nobody knows about.  Nobody
 except us.
 
 See, our faculty advisor--we call him Doc--has big plans.  He started
 with our frat.  He came in, and he started helping us learn some mental
 discipline.  Filters, he called it, to keep us aimed at our goals.  We're a
 jock frat, so all of us play on one or another sports team here at college,
 and we saw the advantages immediately.  A lot of the brothers had had
 problems keeping their grades up.  After Doc started working with us, our
 grades went up because we were studying more effectively, with fewer
 distractions, and our performance in the gym and in our sports went up too.
 Enough to make us want more.  We wanted everything he could give us.
 
 Sure, maybe he wasn't one hundred percent philanthropic about it.  I'm
 talking about the sexual stuff he made us do.  But pretty soon, we got to
 like that too--hell, sex is sex, right?--and then we were doing it all
 willingly.  Good grades, good reps in sports, and great sex.  Fuck, we had
 it made.
 
 Doc has been at this a while.  Used to be, he would come in, take over a
 team or a frat, and then move on to another  when the school
 authorities got wind something was up.  He was getting too ambitious too
 quickly.  Now he's learned to be a lot more subtle.  We weren't the first,
 and we weren't the last, but we were the core where his plans first started
 coming together.  He started with one brother, then another, and another,
 until he eventually had the whole frat under his influence.  You might say
 he took us over from within.
 
 He used us to get into our teams.  The first one was the football team.
 Seven or eight of the brothers in the frat played football that year.  They
 started doing so much better on the field--their coach and teammates all
 noticed and asked what was up.  So the brothers told them a little about
 Doc and how he was helping them.  Not everything, but enough to get their
 teammates hooked.  Then, slowly but surely, Doc started working with the
 football players, acquiring more and more of them, and bringing them all
 into the fold.
 
 The swim team was next--that's where I came in.  Then the baseball team.
 Basketball.  Wrestling.  Tennis.  Soccer.  He started running out of teams
 and new jocks.  So then he started working on the other frats, letting the
 jocks take him back to the frats they belonged to so he could start adding
 them to his stable.
 
 Some of the  he worked with in the past at previous colleges have
 graduated.  They're are still under his influence.  They're leaders in
 industry,  actors, politicians and lawmakers, real important people.
 With the kind of connections and strings Doc can pull for us, it's pretty
 much given we're all going to be successful when we graduate.  That's
 pretty damn seductive.
 
 If you're wondering how one guy like Doc manages to control all those
 guys, the answer is ...  he doesn't.  Well, not directly, at least.  Over
 the last couple of years, he's taught his methods to some of his best
 subjects, like me.  Once he had firm influence over us, he taught us and
 steered us into the leadership of the frat.  He uses us to control the
 others.  It's like an army with Doc as the general; he gives us our orders,
 and we give them to the troops.  He calls us "officers" his Inner
 Circle--we're like his lieutenants or something.
 
 Me, he had the  elect me pledgemaster--mmm, twenty pledges shouting,
 "Yes, Mr.  Pledgemaster, Sir," every time I tell them to do something.
 It's a good fringe benefit for being one of his best subjects.  He told me
 so himself.  Says I go under so smooth and so quickly.  He's a psychology
 professor and I'm a psychology major, so we have that in common too.  He
 taught me a lot of his skills, and now I'm using them the way he tells me
 to--to help train the new pledges, bring in the last couple of athletics
 teams, and bring in the rest of the fraternities.
 
 I'm on my way to a new frat's house now.  We're about to start taking
 over a new fraternity.  Doc and I were talking yesterday, and he was saying
 he wanted to start working on the golf team and the Sigma Nu frat.  I kinda
 teased him about golf not really being a sport, but he knew I'd be on it.
 Heck, I couldn't have disobeyed if I wanted to, which I didn't.  As soon as
 we were through talking, I had some of the brothers finding out who was on
 the golf team, and who among our ranks was friends with them, and how we
 could start reeling them.
 
 The Sigma Nus ...  Well, I'm handling that one myself.  Van, my best
 friend from high school, is a Sigma Nu, and my cousin Roy is a  there too.
 
 They're the "rich kid" frat on campus.  They've got a lot of cute guys,
 and a lot of money, and a lot of connections--maybe as many connections as
 Doc.  Hell, I'm surprised he waited this long to start bringing them in.  I
 guess he's got his reasons.
 
 We're on our way to the Sigma Nu house now.  I've got Shane with me.
 He's one of the Inner Circle too.  You'd never expect him to be as
 effective as he is.  See, if you just saw him at the mall or hanging out
 around campus, you'd think he was a geek.  Cute, and a lot better built
 than most geeks, but still a geek.  He likes that--it makes people
 underestimate him and makes doing what he does easier.
 
 Shane--he's one of the few of brothers who doesn't play on a sports
 team. He's on a team, but it's the school chess team.  Yeah, that's
 right--the chess team.  I still remember when Shane came over to the frat
 house that first time.  He was just a freshman, like me.  That was back
 when I was still a pledge, back when Doc has only just started working with
 us.  Shane was all cocky because he's got this genius-level IQ or
 something--like the chess team was something to be proud of!--and he was
 talking out against frats and stuff.  He had said something in Doc's class
 about jocks and frats were throwbacks that encouraged the worst in  and
 taught bad values and undisciplined behavior.  So Doc said he didn't agree
 and invited Shane to come by the house sometime to check things out in
 person.
 
 So when Shane showed up, we're wondering what Doc wanted with this tall,
 skinny geek.  But Doc had it all planned out.
 
 Shane was all wide-eyed and nervous.  I mean, we could practically smell
 the fear on him, like wolves.  I mean, there he was, the lone geek who had
 mouthed off about frats, now in a frat house full of shirtless jocks.
 Hell, maybe he was afraid he was going to get beat up or something?  Even
 with my beginning set of filters--I was still just a pledge, remember--I
 was catching these little glances he was giving us when he thought Doc
 wasn't looking.  I think he couldn't decide whether to sneer or to leer.
 
 Doc set about making him feel at ease--Doc even had a chessboard all set
 up in the rec room and asked Shane if he wanted to play a game.  Shane said
 yes, and I think he was glad to have something he was familiar with, and
 they sat down to play.
 
 I could tell Shane was taking this game really seriously.  The chess
 game, that is.  He was studying the board, bent over the pieces with his
 eyes all intent, and every time Doc made a move, Shane had to think about
 it this way and turn it over in his head that way, like his whole future
 was riding on that game.
 
 Well, not exactly.  Doc was talking kind of soft and low.  "Breathe in
 ...  Let it out.  Breathe in ...  Let it out." Just a low monotone.  Shane
 probably considered it an attempt at distraction and thought he could
 ignore it.  Doc just kept at it.  "Breathe in ...  Let it out."
 
 Pretty soon, damn if Shane wasn't doing it.  Breathing along with Doc's
 rhythm.  Breathing in when he said to.  Holding it.  Letting it out when he
 said to.  And Doc was playing with the rhythm a little.  Slowing it down,
 gradually.  Letting Shane get used to it.  And he was saying, "In--just
 relax ...  And out--let go of all that tension ...  In--so peaceful and so
 focused ...  Out--ready to let go ..."
 
 I remember it all perfectly.  Doc said, "Take a long, deep breath, and
 to hold it for a few seconds.  That's it.  So focused.  Let it out now.
 Relax.  So relaxed.  Eyelids so heavy.  Heavy.  Let your eyelids close
 down, just for a moment, and let go of the surface tension in your body.
 Just let your body relax as much as possible.  All right--that's fine.
 Just relax.  Starting to sink deeper now.  With each breath you exhale, you
 sink just a little deeper and more relaxed.
 
 "Now, this relaxation you have in your eyes is the same relaxation that
 I want you to have throughout your whole body.  I'm going to have you open
 your eyes again and then close them.  That will be your signal to let this
 feeling of relaxation become ten times deeper.  All you have to do is want
 it to happen, and you can make it happen very easily.  Okay, open your
 eyes. Good.  Now close your eyes, and feel that relaxation flowing through
 your entire body, taking you much deeper, as if your whole body is wrapped
 in a warm blanket of relaxation."
 
 Shane never saw it coming.  Doc kept asking him to open his eyes, then
 close them, telling him each time it made him feel ten times more relaxed,
 more tired, more sleepy, more ready to relax more deeply.  Poor Shane
 managed to open his eyes each time Doc asked him to, but I could tell he
 could barely hold them open.  He wanted to drop into a deep sleep right
 then and there.
 
 Doc led him though an exercise and told him that, each time he closed
 his eyes, his body would become so relaxed that every muscle of his body
 would become limp, unable to work.  Doc said, "In a moment, I'm going to
 lift your left hand by the wrist and drop it.  If you have followed my
 instructions up to this point, that hand will be so relaxed, it will be
 just as loose and limp as a wet towel, and it will simply plop down on your
 leg again.  Once your hand touches your leg, I want you to send a wave of
 relaxation from the top of your head down to the tip of your toes."
 
 Doc picked up Shane's left hand by the wrist, and the hand hung limply.
 Doc dropped it, and it dropped like dead weight.
 
 "Very good," Doc told him.  "Now, as you sit there, with your eyes
 closed, you can begin to drift into trance, in your own way, in your own
 time."
 
 Shane's body slowly sagged into the chair as Doc talked him deeper,
 deeper into his trance.  Yeah, Shane never saw it coming.  I guess a genius
 IQ isn't everything.
 
 Doc kept talking to Shane, and guiding him, giving him suggestions.
 Pretty soon, Shane was taking his  off.  There was a lump in his khaki
 pants, too.  I wasn't seeing Shane as a geek who'd mouthed off anymore; I
 was seeing him as a horny guy, just like the rest of us.
 
 Doc said something to us about relieving Shane of his virginity, and he
 called two of us pledges over and had us kneel on either side of Shane.
 I'd been a virgin with  up until just a few weeks before when I'd
 pledged the frat, but I'd seen plenty of cocks since I pledged and started
 working with Doc.  I knew how to make a guy feel really good.  Yeah--what
 Doc was telling me was right--I wanted to make Shane feel good too.
 
 When Shane unzipped, what he pulled out of his khakis and boxers was the
 biggest fucking cock I'd ever seen.  Damn thing was huge!  I'm pretty
 well-hung, but the eight-plus inches I pack when I'm hard was dwarfed by
 Shane's monster.  It must have been between a solid twelve and thirteen
 inches long,  too, with a nice mushroom head.  If my filters hadn't
 been keeping me focused, relaxed, and cooperative, I might have had second
 thoughts.
 
 Doc guided us through it.  Shane just lay there, limp, as if he was
 asleep.  His moans, though, as we bent over him and began licking his pecs,
 told me some part of him was aware of everything we were doing.
 
 Shane was the beneficiary of everything the other guy and I had learned
 about cocksucking as pledges.  The other guy took Shane's cock in his
 mouth--he could get that monster further down his throat than I could, even
 with my filters helping my throat muscles relax--while I kissed and licked
 Shane's chest.  His muscles weren't as developed as mine, but he had the
 beginnings of a nice body, and the virginal skin on his pecs was perfectly
 smooth under my lips.  When Doc suggested it, I took one of Shane's
 cinnamon nipples in my mouth and licked it and teased it with my teeth.  I
 made my way up his neck and kissed his lips, but he was so relaxed he
 barely worked his mouth in response.
 
 I was hard, but Doc hadn't asked me to undress, so I didn't.  My cock
 ached to be let out of my pants, but I had to stay focused.
 
 Doc had the other pledge bury his face up under Shane's low-hanging
 balls, while I kissed and nibbled Shane's neck.  I started  at his
 neck, leaving a livid hickey that would certainly impress his fellow geeks.
 Doc asked Shane if he wanted to jack off, and Shane began stroking his
 monster cock as the other pledge and I worshipped his body.
 
 Doc asked me to take another crack at Shane's massive cock, and it
 sounded so good to me.  I rubbed his pecs and tweaked his erect nipples as
 I made my way down to his hard-on.  I flicked my tongue first on the head
 of his cock, at the sensitive area just under his  slit.  Then I put
 the head in my mouth, letting it rest between my lips as my spit mixed with
 the drop of his precum.  I took more of his cock into my mouth, then more,
 as my fingers wandered between his sprawled legs, just the way Doc was
 suggesting, to find his ass and explore around his sweaty hole.  The other
 pledge's mouth found Shane's balls again and gave them a good
 tongue-washing as I suckled on Shane's cock.
 
 I pulled my mouth off his cock and ran my tongue down the length of it.
 Doc asked him to jack off, put on a show for us, stroke himself off, and
 Shane's hand wrapped around his cock like a familiar friend.  After a few
 languid strokes, Doc told him to  when he was ready.
 
 Shane gave a slight gasp and his abs tensed.  Suddenly, his load shot
 straight up out of his cock, hitting my face as it fell back down.  Doc
 told the other pledge and me that we could  too if we wanted, and
 suddenly I was having the most intense orgasm and shooting off inside my
 pants without touching myself.  Damn!
 
 After that night, Shane was hanging around all the time, doing Doc's
 mental training with us.  The brothers put him on a physical training
 routine too, and he started muscling up and now he has a good body to match
 that mind of his.  He joined my pledge class and joined the frat and in his
 senior year got himself appointed Treasurer, which made him part of Doc's
 Inner Circle of frat officers, and that's how he ended up here beside me,
 walking across campus through the warm fall night to the Sigma Nu house.
 
 We make a good team, Shane and I.  With all the extra training Doc has
 given me, I'm a real expert at this and I know how to take a guy deeper,
 work past his resistance.  See, just because a guy says no doesn't mean you
 can't make him change his mind, work him there in smaller steps, seduce him
 into it.  And Shane still looks kind of like a geek, so people never
 suspect him; with his smarts and quick head, he can figure out which
 approach will work on a guy and have him feeling very relaxed before the
 guy knows what hit him.  I've seen it happen many times.
 
 I ring the bell.
 
 The front light is on and we stand there in its welcoming glow, a slight
 fall breeze playing warmly over our bare chests.
 
 The door swings open.  "Yeah?" a male voice asks; then, recognizing us,
 the guy says, "Hey--come on in," and opens the door wider to let us in.
 
 The president and social chair are waiting for us.  Along with the
 pledgemaster, those are the three most powerful positions in any frat.  The
 brothers look up to them.
 
 Control the head, and the body will follow.
 
 We shake hands, and the president offers us a beer, which we both
 decline.  They lead us back to a quiet room where we can talk.  They think
 this is going to be a discussion of how our frat can work with theirs for
 an upcoming campus project.  If they only knew.
 
 On the way, the president is making small talk about the weather, saying
 that the warm fall days won't last much longer, colder times coming.  Blah,
 blah, blah.  After a few moments, my filters block out his chatter and let
 me study his eyes, the way he moves.
 
 The social chair gives my pecs a look.  Maybe he's jealous.  Or maybe he
 wants to lick them.  Out f the blue, he says, "Don't you  ever wear
 shirts?"
 
 I say, "It's a warm night tonight," as an explanation.  But Shane and I
 have tee-shirts stuck in our back pockets, just in case, and we pull them
 out and pull them on.  The social chair seems both disappointed and
 relieved as our chests disappear under the fabric.  I caught his expression
 though--in the door less than five minutes, and I have my mark.  Shane has
 seen his expression too, and we exchange a knowing glance.
 
 Near the end of the hall, we run into my cousin Roy, and he and I say
 hello to each other.  I haven't seen Roy in a year or two, and I notice
 what a good-looking  he's growing into.  He's a sophomore, so Doc is
 going to have plenty of time to train him before he graduates.  I ask Roy
 how my buddy Van is doing--Van and I haven't hung out much since we came to
 college because we pledged different frats, and my filters started keeping
 me focused on studying, the team, the frat, and some things Doc wanted to
 work on.  Ray says Van is fine and I should stop by and say hey to him
 before I go.
 
 But Shane and I are there for a reason, so I have to catch up with the
 others.  "Where's your pledgemaster?" I ask as we gather around the chairs
 and the president shuts the door.
 
 "He's not here," says the social chair flatly.  His tight smile could be
 a smirk.  He's probably thinking we're dumb jocks who don't have the brain
 power to notice the Sigma pledgemaster isn't there.  What my brainpower is
 thinking is, Since it's so easy to study thanks to my filters, I have 3.95
 grade point average--I'll put that up against your 2.6 any day, Mr.
 Checkbook.  But my filters are already dissipating my anger.
 
 Okay, I'm looking forward to deflating that arrogant bastard's ego.  All
 of his daddy's money won't be enough to buy him a clue in time.
 
 "Uhm ...  He has a paper due tomorrow," the president says, scowling at
 the social chairman, "so he said to say he's sorry he has to miss the
 meeting." Well, at least one of them has manners.  Doc wouldn't like this
 though.  He had sent us there to target the Sigma Nu leaders: the
 president, social chair, and pledgemaster.  Two out of three would have to
 do.  For now.
 
 So we start talking about the upcoming project.  Everything's pretty
 simple, and I can do this with only part of my mind.  The rest of my head
 is focused on the Sigma Nu boys--watching the way they move, reading their
 reactions.  I start copying some of their gestures.  The social chair
 shifts a little, and I shift a little.  He tilts his head, and I tilt my
 head.  Shane has the president covered and is mimicking his moves.  Doc
 says this is called "establishing a physical rapport." It's the first step.
 
 The social chair doesn't have a clue what is going on, but his body
 knows.  I think he's getting turned on.  Every time he looks over at me,
 I'm be looking at him and grinning.  He is starting to shift uncomfortably,
 like he has a hard-on in those expensive jeans or something.
 
 Mr.  Social Chair's name is Ash.  Even his name is pretentious.  I can't
 deny he is attractive, though.  That's probably part of why Doc is having
 us target the Sigma Nus.  I'd put Ash at twenty or twenty-one--he's a
 Junior, I think.  His expensive clothes hint at an excellent body
 underneath--his ass had looked especially nice when I'd scoped it earlier.
 Just a bit under six feet tall.  He is a very handsome man.  Loose,
 dark-blond hair and dark brown eyes--those eyes are his best feature.  I'm
 looking forward to seeing them droop and close.
 
 "Be right back.  I need to take a wicked piss," Ash says, getting out of
 his chair.
 
 "Me too," I say, standing.  "Can you show me where your bathroom is?"
 
 Ash scowls a little, like he isn't too happy about it, but he says,
 "Sure.  This way."
 
 He leads me down the hall to the bathroom.  It offers three urinals and
 two  stalls and a shower area divided into semi-private booths.  This
 will do.
 
 He stands in front of the urinal on the far end.  I could take the one
 at the opposite end, but instead I stride up to the one in the middle,
 right next to him, like I own the place.
 
 I'm not wearing underwear--none of us at the frat do unless it's a
 jockstrap at practice, so I just have to unzip and then I'm pulling out my
 half-hard cock.  He starts to glance at my cock but instead he looks up at
 me, sees me grinning at him, and glances away quickly.  But not before I
 catch that little quiver to his lower lip, like he wants to lick it.
 Yeah--he probably doesn't even realize he did that.
 
 Ash blushes when he realizes I'm the only one peeing.  I guess he can't
 pee with a hard-on.  He shuffles, and he shifts his eyes to see if I've
 noticed, and I give him a wink as I shake off the last drops of my pee,
 tuck my meat back in my pants, and zip up.  The wink does it.  Ash blushes
 darker and tries to push past me in a huff.
 
 "Hey, hey, hey," I coo, pushing him back against the wall and holding
 him there with the palm of my left hand still on his collar bone.  I crowd
 in on him, standing close, invading his personal space, but grinning,
 always grinning.
 
 "What the--what're you doing?" Ash snarls.  "What the fuck are you
 doing?" But I notice he isn't trying to push me away.
 
 "I'm going to hypnotize you," I say, still smiling.
 
 "Hypna-- What?" he says, eyes widening like he's never heard the word
 before.
 
 "I'm going to hypnotize you," I repeat.  "In fact, I've already begun.
 It's called 'the handshake method,' and you might find it very hard to
 resist."
 
 Ash stammers, "Hu-huh?"
 
 "It works like this," I says.  "Shake hands with me." With my left hand
 still pressing him lightly back against the wall, I reach for his right
 hand with mine.  His right hand comes up uncertainly to meet mine, and we
 shake.  But instead of letting go, I run my hand along his and hold his
 wrist between my thumb and forefinger.  He tries to pull his hand away, but
 he can't pull it far with the wall at his back.
 
 He is staring at my hand on his wrist, probably wondering what I'm up
 to. See, Doc taught me the secret is to create a sense of waiting, a sense
 of expecting something to happen.
 
 "See?  You're already falling into hypnosis.  Nearly there." I stare him
 right in the eye.  I give his hand a little tug upward, then a little push
 downward.  "Three.  Two.  One.  Sleep now." I give his hand a sharp jerk
 downward and forward.  "Deeply hypnotized.  Sleep now."
 
 His body sags forward against my shoulder.  His head rolls loosely.
 Eyes closed.  Doc trained me well.  Ash never stood a chance.
 
 I guide Ash through a little exercise that deeps his trance.  His hand
 rises when I ask him to feel it getting lighter, lighter than air.  His
 breathing slows even further.  Deeply entranced.  I have to admit: asleep,
 with his arms hanging limp at his sides and his eyes barely flickering in
 dreams under his locked-down eyelids, he is beautiful.
 
 I draw him away from the wall and into one of the  stalls for some
 privacy, and I push the door shut behind us.  I prop him up against the
 wall again for support and brush my hand into his crotch.  There's a lump
 there already.  Some  get really aroused when they get relaxed and
 sleepy--apparently Ash is one of them, because he doesn't need any urging
 from me.  I knead that lump gently, feeling it harden and lengthen, while I
 slip the initial set of suggestions Doc has laid out into his subconscious.
 
 He resists a little, shaking his head a little when I ask if he agrees
 with some of the suggestions.  I enjoy a challenge.  Time for a more ...
 "seductive" approach.  I unbuckle his belt, unzip him, and unbutton his
 jeans.  Under his underwear is a  five-inch cock.  Uncut.  Ramrod
 hard. I stroke it for him, slowly, gently, slowly, gently, as I keep
 whispering the suggestions into his mind, reinforcing them, making sure he
 understands just who is making him feel so good, and why, and just what he
 needs to do so that I'll make him feel this good again really soon.  His
 blissful half-smile tells me the suggestions are taking hold now--he isn't
 fighting any longer.  I can't resist unbuttoning his  and getting a
 good look at his chest.  Very nice.  Tight abs.  Well-shaped pecs.  Not a
 hair on him above the navel.  Large, dark nipples, oblong.
 
 I tease his cock with my fingertips.  He is close to cumming.  He is
 ready.  I make sure to anchor him to this very relaxed, horny feeling, to
 make it easy for him to return to his trance.  Then I tell him to cum.
 
 His orgasm hits him like a seizure.  In spite of how relaxed he is, his
 body jerks and spasms.  His load shoots out and hits the opposite wall with
 a loud "Splat!" Okay, finally, I'm impressed.
 
 Ash sleepwalks behind me back to the room, docile as a puppy dog, not a
 trace of arrogance to him now.  A little trance work and a strong orgasm
 will do that to a guy.  I've gotten his pants closed back, and if anyone
 happens to see us, only two things would reveal that Ash isn't ...  exactly
 himself.  One that dazed "trance" look in his half-open eyes.  The other is
 that Ash has his  off.  It seems only fitting after the static he gave
 Shane and I when we arrived.  Plus, if things go as planned, there will be
 a lot more  hanging around the Sigma house shirtless really soon.
 
 I open the door quietly--don't want to disturb what is probably in
 progress.
 
 The Sigma Nu president, Ryan, is slouched in his chair, head lolled
 back, eyes closed, mouth hanging open.  Shane is whispering the suggestions
 to him.  He glances up at me when I lead Ash in, and we exchange quick
 smiles of success without Shane missing a beat.
 
 I settle in to watch.  Shane is nearly as good as me, and he has Ryan in
 the palm of his hand.  Ryan's  is open, revealing a muscular chest
 dusted with brown hair.  His pants are open too, and he is slowly stroking
 his seven-inch cock.
 
 "You can  now," Shane tells him.  "You're doing beautifully.   when you're ready."
 
 And Ryan gives a groan, and he begins to shoot,  after spurt,
 across his chest and stomach.
 
 From behind me: "What the fuck!"
 
 I turn to face the incredulous new voice.  In the doorway stands my
 friend Van, his eyes bugged out and his jaw dropped.  "I--I came by to say
 hello ...  Jesus Christ!  What the fuck is going on in here?"
 
 Behind him, Roy is craning his head over Van's shoulder, trying to get a
 good look.
 
 Sometimes I don't even have to think.
 
 I grab Van and Roy and pull them inside, kicking the door shut.
 
 I push Van up against the wall, and Shane, rushing around the table,
 grabs Roy by his tee-shirt and pushes him up against the door.  He manages
 to lock it too--good man!
 
 Okay.  I need to keep Van disoriented and keep control of the situation.
 Confusion induction.
 
 "You may think you know what's going on here.  You're a smart guy,
 aren't you?  I know how difficult it can be for someone with your
 intelligence to recognize that it will be a pleasant change for me to work
 with you instead of someone who just came in here like your friends there."
 
 "Huh--?" Van begins.
 
 But Shane cuts him off, following my lead: "And even they, with their
 eyes closed, can be so small minded, always appearing mad at the world and
 never giving a moment for themselves ...  to relax."
 
 "Those are the ones who just feel that they have no need at all to
 listen to what is said or not said."
 
 "Putting in values that have no place here, no value there."
 
 "They refuse to learn anything that will help them to see the world in a
 different light and be comfortable too."
 
 "It's so comforting too, to know that you have ability to use your mind
 in that way."
 
 To learn and to accept that it can be such a relaxing experience."
 
 "To allow that drifting into a trance to occur, without concerning
 yourself."
 
 "As you try to be aware of al that is said, the exact meaning of all the
 words."
 
 "And of all those events that occur in your own thoughts."
 
 "You can know too that you can choose."
 
 "To forge to choose to pay that attention to all that happens."
 
 "Here, in your experience or not.  There, or what changes or stays the
 same."
 
 "And what about that  who had something to do?"
 
 "He knew he was told the right way to go."
 
 "Keep to the left for the first part."
 
 "That's right."
 
 "So easy at first.  Then right.
 
 "That's right."
 
 "Not the left because what is right is to take a right."
 
 "Then what is left cannot be right, until the turn that is next that is
 left."
 
 "The turn to the left that will be right takes him straight to the next
 turn that is right."
 
 "And if that turn is right, then he would be turning left onto the right
 route."
 
 "And then all that is left is to relax."
 
 "It really can seem to be too much effort at times to be so concerned
 about what is right."
 
 "That can best be left to those who need to know that which may turn out
 to be that."
 
 "Or if not, to relax and begin to recognize that you really don't know
 what is no here and yes there."
 
 "Where to go."
 
 "To where you can let go and allow those things to occur in their own
 time."
 
 "And you know there is nothing that you need to do or not do."
 
 "You can be totally relaxed and comfortable."
 
 "As you recognize that what I say can mean so many different things."
 
 "It can be so easy to accept all those things and to be completely
 comfortable and relaxed with all that is so right."
 
 "And be left with that train of thought that could allow you to stay on
 track."
 
 "And recognize that too was not worth the effort, that it takes so much
 effort to try to remember so many things."
 
 "And to understand there's no need to understand."
 
 "The conscious of your mind can do anything, go any place it wants,
 without any need for you to be so concerned that your subconscious is
 concerned."
 
 "To hear all that is important to you, as you continue to listen to my
 voice."
 
 "And my voice that drifts down with you now, into that calm drifting."
 
 "Calm drifting of thoughts and of experience too."
 
 "That can go so slowly or so quickly now."
 
 "As that relaxation inside you grows more and more."
 
 "As you can allow the subconscious part of your mind to take part in
 guiding your thoughts and your experience into the quiet calmness that
 follows."
 
 "When dreams can be turning within."
 
 "As the wheel turns, and the world turns."
 
 "All on its own."
 
 "Nothing at all for you to do or be concerned with as you drift
 effortlessly down into that drifting place where nothing is left except
 what is right for you."
 
 "To where your own inner mind waits too with the comfortable peace you
 get yours and those things needed too."
 
 "As you sleep now."
 
 "Sleep."
 
 We take them deeper, as their expressions go steadily slack, eyes locked
 shut, heads drooping limply from their necks.
 
 Once we get them locked into nice, deep trance states, we start reciting
 Doc's suggestions into their heads.
 
 And we can play a little.  Shane is stroking my cousin Roy's body, and I
 have to admit he has a nice one.  At nineteen, he is beginning to fill out.
 Slim build like a runner.  His face is still boyish, and his long lashes
 accentuates the shape of his slumbering eyes.  Brown hair, still
 sun-bleached nearly the color of sand.
 
 Van is a natural blond.  I remember his body from high school.  We had
 been on the swim team together, though he isn't on the  team.  I
 think he keeps fit by hitting the gym and doing lots of dirt-biking on
 weekends.  It shows.  His body is more muscular than before.
 
 I have an idea itching in the back of my head.  I said that I'd been a
 virgin with  before I joined the frat, and that is true.  But that
 doesn't mean all my friends in high school were virgins.  This one time, at
 a party at a friend's house, I'd been looking around something, when I
 heard some noises coming out of the laundry room.  I peeked through a crack
 in the door, and I saw Van on his knees giving a  to some guy.  Man,
 that about floored me!  I never said anything about it to Van, but I was
 getting this idea.
 
 Relaxation leads to arousal.  They are very relaxed, and now they are
 becoming very aroused.
 
 I let Shane take over--he likes to order cute  around.
 
 Van's  comes off.  Wow, has he gotten muscular in the last couple
 of years!  That sprinkling of  hair across his chest has gotten a
 little thicker as well.
 
 Roy's  comes off too, revealing a smooth chest just now turning
 into a man's, wiry and sleek.  His jeans slide down around his ankles.
 Black boxer-briefs.  When he eases the boxers down, his sleek six-inch cock
 springs free, like a happy puppy, throbbing for attention.  His torso stays
 slumped against the wall for support.
 
 Van kneels before Roy.  When Van unzips his pants, he exposes a sword
 about eight inches long--thick and uncircumcised too, with an upward curve.
 At Shane's suggestion, Van starts to jack himself off.  Van isn't fighting
 the suggestions at all--if anything, Shane seems to be holding him back.
 
 Van opens his mouth, and his tongue darts out to lick at the tip of
 Roy's cock.  He kisses Roy's rod and pushes his mouth forward, taking it
 deep.  Van sure knows how to give a blowjob, and he is making Roy's abs
 ripple from the sensations running through his body.  Van has one hand
 fisting his own cock and his other hand tugging gently on Roy's balls.  Roy
 just continues leaning limply against the wall; little moans and whimpers
 slithering out from someplace deep in his throat.
 
 "Oh, yeah," Shane encourages them.  "Suck his cock!  That's right.  Suck
 it.  So sweet!"
 
 Van knows his way around a cock.  He slides his mouth up and down along
 Roy's shaft in long, even strokes, always ending with his nose stuffed in
 Roy's bush.
 
 "Roy, you can  any time you're ready," Shane says, his own voice
 husky with lust.  I'm betting Shane needs to get off too, but we have to
 stay focused.
 
 Roy groans comfortably, and his body convulses.  His cock is buried in
 Van's throat, and that's where he shoots his load.  Some of it escapes from
 Van's mouth and rolls down his chin.
 
 My cock is so painfully hard inside my pants.  I massage it a little,
 and it sends warm, happy sensations running through me.  Shane glance over
 at what I'm doing to myself and grins.
 
 Shane says, "Okay, Van.  Your turn.   for me, stud."
 
 Van is dripping sweat.  His hand pumps at his cock harder and faster.
 His torso rocks like a twig in a storm.  His load spits out, long ropey
 strands, as his balls empty themselves.  His body trembles while his orgasm
 sings through him, and as it passes, he begins to sag back into his deeply
 relaxed state.
 
 Shane and I grin at each other.  "You want some of this?" Shane says,
 caressing Van's drowsy head.
 
 I bite my bottom lip.  We're supposed to stay focused.  But I'm so
 horny, so fucking horny.  I look up at Shane.  I know he won't tell Doc.  I
 nod.
 
 We aren't supposed to relax each other--the Inner Circle is only
 supposed to do it to the rest of the guys.  Shane is fighting against that
 rule a little in his head.  But he reaches out and his hand covers my face,
 drawing my eyelids down, and he says, "Sleep now," and that's my key to
 close my eyes, relax completely, let my filters take over, and just sink
 down, deeper, even deeper.
 
 When I open my eyes again, I am completely naked.  I'm hard and
 positioned in front of kneeling Van, with one of my hands back against the
 wall to steady me and the other curled around the back of his head.  Van
 has his pants clumped down around his ankles, naked from the knees up.  He
 has one hand on my thigh and the other around the base of my cock to steady
 it as he attacked it with his mouth, like a dream come true.  He is
 slobbering and  and drooling and licked at my meat, intense as a
 tropical storm, like maybe he does this all the time.  Swallowing me down
 like he really wants to, trying to make me part of him forever.  Nibbling
 and teasing and drool and  my dick so sweetly, working his mouth up
 and down the shaft, then his tongue flickering around the head, kissing it,
 worshiping it.  It feels so damn good.  I'm so relaxed and empty of
 everything except how damn good Van is making my meat feel.
 
 "Cum now," Shane says quietly, and the word rages through me, and my
 cock turns to white fire, and I'm blasting the sweetest, most intense load
 deep into Van's throat, so much pleasure burning through me, swirling me up
 and carrying me down deeper, and deeper.
 
 Shane takes care of getting everyone dressed and closing up shop there.
 He doesn't snap me out of it--he is going to let me wake up naturally,
 gradually, as we walk back to our frat house.
 
 Yeah, Doc will be pleased--he sent us to start by assimilating three
 Sigma Nus, and we acquired four.  That will give us a good foothold for
 merging them into Doc's growing ranks.
 
 From what I'd seen, as long as Doc keeps providing the orgasms, the
 Sigmas wouldn't mind the changes Doc is going to make.  No, not at all.
 And me, I'm looking forward to getting another shot at Van and Roy myself,
 once they are fully assimilated.
 
 
 
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