***Warning*** This is a bit graphic with a tale auto-erotic asphyxiation, but it’s almost Halloween, what do you really expect from me?
There was a rumor, at the time, going around the school, that something had happened to the school’s janitor, Mr. Lear, over the summer. Of course, everyone at the school knew he’d died; the administration had announced that at the opening assembly. Everyone had liked Mr. Lear–sure he was a old fart, but he’d been silly and made friends with any number of students during his many years working at the school, and it had been a blow to the community. The old man had always claimed to be a magician, but all of tricks were just sleight of hand–although none of the students had ever been able to catch him at it, in all of these years. He’d also been…accused of some odd things over the years, but no one seemed to care much, and they were generally forgotten quickly. That said, his death over the summer was the greatest mystery of all.
The official story was a heart attack at home, and no one had any evidence that that wasn’t the case, but the rumor going around was that Mr. Lear had, in fact, died in the school itself. The more scandalous versions alleged that he’d hanged himself in the gym locker room–and the version students only dared whisper was that he’d died with his hand around his cock, jacking off–just like some people had heard this senior, Terry Winters, had done at home two years earlier. Such a nasty rumor would only get a foothold, of course, if it hadn’t been at least…a little plausible. Mr. Lear had been a nice guy, but he’d also been a bit of a creep at times. The school administration tried to tamp down the story, which only made it spread faster.
Buddy had heard some of this, but he hadn’t thought much of it–he didn’t think much of anything, really. He sat the rest of the game out on the sidelines, trying to not rub his cock through his uniform pants. All he wanted was for the thoughts to stop, but being away from the game only made it harder to think about something else–because usually, Buddy wasn’t thinking about anything at all. The game finished–his team won, no thanks to him, and he got changed as quick as he could, and got home, the thoughts dimming slightly as he got away from the school, but didn’t leave entirely.
His dad was angry at him for his poor performance, and yelled and berated him for being such a terrible waste of manhood. Buddy, feeling terrible, went to bed, but didn’t dare cry. What if he wasn’t only a bad football player, and a bad man, but a faggot too? What then? It took several hours, but he eventually fell into a fitful sleep…and dreamed.
He never dreamed anything much–the few he remembered were mostly odd colors and patterns, not stories. But this–this was vivid, solid. He was standing in the boy’s locker room of the high school, by himself…or was he? There was…someone else here, someone watching him. He ran to the door, but it refused to open, and when he turned around–there, in the middle of the locker room, naked aside from a filthy jockstrap and a rope noose pulled tight around his neck, was Mr. Lear.
“Buddy?…Buddy! So you’re the one! You have no idea how glad I am to see you–to have found you,” the old man said, walking closer to him. There was something…wrong about him, something terribly wrong, with how blue his skin was, how…cold he seemed, the incredibly bloodshot eyes. “You make me feel…young again.”
“Wake…wake up. I gotta wake up!” Buddy said to himself, pinching his arm, but nothing happened.
“Oh Buddy–you aren’t in your dreams anymore–you’re in mine! And the best thing about dreams? They can last a very, very long time, you know. Why, it can feel like…years have passed, and you wake up the next morning, and it’s just hours. Isn’t the mind amazing? The spirit?”
“No–No! Don’t touch me, don’t touch me!” he screamed, the bony old hand reaching down, grabbing his arm, and Mr. Lear tugged him into an icy hug, his mind…filling with…thoughts and desires, ideas and fantasies he had never imagined. Mr. Lear pushed him down onto his knees, where Buddy pressed his face to the nasty jockstrap he had on, grinding his face into the dry, crispy fabric, his hands wrapping around his own cock, jacking it slowly.
“You see, I’d been waiting for so long, Buddy, trapped in that school, just a shadow of myself, unable to move on. I’ve been trying to get into the others, but I was so weak, it took so much magic to just keep from moving on! But you–you’re so…empty, so perfect. Dumb, empty, with no real will of your own. But I can help you, Buddy. I can give you what you’ve always been missing! Desire! Purpose! You’re head’s so empty, why, there’s plenty of room for me to make myself at home, right?”
Buddy found himself nodding. Bony fingers with long, chipped nails slipped the jockstrap down, revealing a cock, perpetually hard, blue with desperation.
“I was almost there, right on the edge. I knew I needed to stop, but it feels so good, that explosion! And magic is cheating of course–you have to…to know that death is seconds away for it to really count. But I didn’t even get there, stuck on the edge in…so many ways. I want…I want to feel it again, Buddy. I want to feel what it’s like to cum again. To fuck again, to smell a filthy jock, to seduce men and have my way with them. My magic kept me tethered to the world, but if you become my vessel, it will become yours, you know. The power to bend wills, to change minds…we can have so much fun together, you and I.”
“No…No, please…” Buddy muttered, feeling his mouth open anyway, tongue extending to taste that bulging, dead cock inches from his mouth.
“I expected you to say that, at first. But we have ages in our dreams, you know. I can show you how wonderful it can be, to say yes. I can show you so many things tonight, so many wonderful things! Come morning, we’ll be a new man together, I promise.”
Buddy screamed, mouth wide, but Mr. Lear gagged him quiet, thrusting his cock straight down the boy’s throat. He’d learn, oh he’d learn–and he had he had all the time to teach him to be the best, most perverse vessel he could possibly be.