The continuation of “The Power of Belief”, featuring the further rise and eventual fall of Professor Larson, is up on Patreon for everyone contributing five dollars or more a month. You can find the download link here if you’re a contributor. It’s quite long, and I’ll be posting the first few chunks of the story here on tumblr, but if you want to read the whole thing, Patreon is the only plave to find it (for now).
Professor Harold Larson had quickly discovered that belief can only get you so far, in this world. “So far” had turned out to be a massive house full of personal slaves, all of them previous students of his, all of them helping keep his butler, Carter, company, and keep the house in perfect order. Two fat cooks, who believed they were identical twins, made him meals when they weren’t cleaning each other’s fat bodies. Two more butlers, as old and weak minded as Carter himself, tended to him and his occasional guests, and would often spend their free time outside, being fucked by the massive gardeners and pool boys. But beyond his house, every attempt to change the world beyond his small realm had proved nearly impossible.
It was, he discovered, rather impossible to believe something if everyone else around you didn’t believe it along with you. He tried making several of his students smokers, but generally they would quit after a day or two, and eventually they wouldn’t remember smoking at all. Attempts to make his fellow professors gay perverts like him had all ended disastrously–thank goodness none of them had any memories of what he’d done, or he would have been jailed for certain. Worse, he could feel that wall of belief wearing on him every day–no one took him seriously. Few believed him to be as old as he claimed, or as fat, or as mean spirited and selfish as he believed himself to be. Worse, he would come home each night, and have to reinforce his own self-image, or he might very well return to being ‘Harry’–stupid, young, thin, straight, naive Harry. That would never happen if he could help it. And so, he’d started tinkering with Carter’s original device, and he’d come up with a new plan.
***
“Thank you for coming to see me, Aaron,” Professor Larson said, “Please, have a seat.”
He was perfect. Relatively dumb, desperate to please, willing to believe. Aaron Gorman was a freshman athlete from the professor’s introductory seminar. If he wanted to stay on the team, then he’d need at least a passing grade–and he was just under it, with only a few weeks left in the semester. Still, if he was willing to help his Professor out with a special project, he could probably see a way to helping him out.
“What did you want to talk about, Professor?” Aaron asked, taking a seat. He looked around the room–there was a strange buzzing in the air, like static from a TV, but he didn’t quite know where it was coming from exactly.
“I wanted to ask you here to talk about your grade. I know that you need a passing mark to keep your athletic scholarship, but after that last test result, I’m afraid its looking like you’ll need some extra credit to pass.”
“Really? I thought I’d done pretty well on it.”
In truth, he had done well–well enough to push his grade up, but the test the Professor handed him was covered with red marks. “I mean, it’s really not a surprise you did so poorly, you were having quite a hard time focusing that day. In fact, it seems like you have a hard time focusing in my class regularly.”
That much was true. Honestly, Aaron just found engineering rather boring, and now that the professor said something…he could remember having trouble on the test. It wasn’t really a surprise he’d failed, now that he thought about it.
Professor Larson leaned back in his chair–this was the hard part, if he could just get him to go along with him. “Is everything alright with your health? I notice that you seem to touch your crotch often.”
Aaron looked slightly aghast, “What?”
“Now, I know it’s somewhat embarrassing, but whenever you’re distracted in class, I notice your hand is in your lap.”
“No it isn’t! I mean…”
“It’s in your lap right now, Aaron–you’re touching yourself right now, aren’t you?”
Aaron pulled his hand away from his lap, and stood up. He had to leave, this was too strange.
“Sit down Aaron, I really think you should talk to me about what’s wrong. If your cock in distracting you, I assure you I can help.”
Aaron felt pulled in two different directions at once. Something told him he should sit back down, that he should listen to what his professor wanted to say, but the rest of him told him to get out, and get out fast. The buzzing grew louder, and the first voice started to make more sense; he eased himself back down into the chair, but kept his eyes on the door.
The Professor had been holding his breath, one hand on his watch, adjusting the dial up. He kept it high, and spoke again. “Listen, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, right?”
“R-Right.”
“It’s just a body after all.”
“Of course. I’m not, it’s just…”
“I mean, an athlete like you, I bet you’re rather proud of your body.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“And you probably like showing it off, displaying yourself for other people to see.”
Aaron blushed a bit, but that was true–he did like having people stare at him.
“So let’s see what’s wrong–go on, drop your pants and let me have a look.”
He shouldn’t do this, but why not? It made sense…didn’t it? He stood up and dropped his pants and underwear–immediately the Professor let out a whistle. “Well goodness boy, no wonder you’re having a hard time focusing in class–that’s big, massive cock of yours must be quite demanding!”
Big, massive cock? It had always seemed pretty normal to him, but when he looked down, it did seem…bigger than he’d remembered.
“It’s no surprise you’re always jacking off in class, if you’re trying to keep that ten inch cock in check, especially with those huge balls of yours too. I bet you jack off, what, fifteen times a day?”
That seemed excessive, didn’t it? But he did jack off a lot. “I don’t know, I never really thought to count.”
“Well, it just so happens that you have just the kind of equipment I’ve been looking for, to help me out with a little problem of mine. If you’d help me out, I’ll make sure you get a passing grade in my class–how does that sound?”
“That sounds great, professor!” Aaron said, not noticing he’d started stroking his now huge cock absent mindedly.
“Alright, here’s what I need you to do–go ahead and wait here for a few minutes. Say, ten or so. And then, I’d like you to walk down the hall and knock on Professor Hubert’s office door, alright? I just have to have a quick chat with him about some things, and then you can come help me out–how does that sound?”
Aaron wasn’t really paying attention–he was too busy jacking off. After a minute, he finally came, pumping a torrent of cum onto the professor’s desk.
“It sure is good that you love the taste of cum, and you’ll clean that up for me, right Aaron?”
Aaron nodded, still in an orgasmic daze, got down and started licking up his own seed.
“Good boy. Now finish cleaning up, and then come down to Professor Hubert’s office, won’t you?”
“Yes Professor.”
“Good boy, I’ll be waiting for you.”
Bracken's Corner 