Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Trevor sipped his Kool-Aid martini absentmindedly as he stared at a
particularly striking art piece in the Marquis -(TM) private gallery.  This
mission had been an overwhelming bore, every possible clue and angle Trevor
worked turning up nothing but a lot of old perverts trying to have some
good clean fun with impressionable youths.  The Gemini Corporation didn't
regulate morality or a how a person spent their free time.  But it did
expect the utmost loyalty out of its employees.  And Trevor had been tasked
with rooting out a possible intel leak from one of the Marquis' libertines.
So far it had been fruitless.  Trevor only hoped that his subtle little
methods of seduction and manipulation would flush out the traitor in their
ranks.  That is, if the traitor didn't get to him first.

   "I see the Caravaggio has caught your eye.  Enjoy the feast.  Let it
inflame your passions as you have inflamed mine," the Marquis said.

   Trevor turned to see the old bloated figure of the Marquis de Burbank in
all his naked, fat-rolled, liver-spotted glory.  The teenage agent's
stomach turned at the sight.  Ever a master of deception, he used all the
willpower in him to conjure up a flirtatious smile for the Marquis'
delight. Trevor slowly and teasingly slid his loose silk panties down until
him and his hardening boy cock were as naked as shameless as his elder.  He
clasped his hands behind his head in a sign of submission and shut his eyes
in front of the fine artwork.  Trevor stuck his tender little rump out
towards the Marquis and wiggled it tauntingly at the old fucker.  Marquis
was a worshipper of sodomy in all its earthly forms, from the hard firm
granite asses of steroid abusing bodybuilders to the soft spongy delights
of unlearned immature girl scouts.  His prick grew wet and messy at the
sight of them, the randy libertine needing at once to spear them with his
bumpy diseased prick before the passion dwindled.  The Marquis had found
Trevor's file in the corporation's near-endless video profiles, a naked 360
degree view of the soft-bodied teen being the inspiration for many late
night discharges.  But a mere distorted video image wasn't enough for the
libertine.  He had to have the boy's mind body and soul.  Nothing less.

   "Master," Trevor said meekly, "my ass craves your fullness inside it. 
Please ravage me as you wish."

   Trevor rolled his eyes at the pre-scripted drivel he was forced to
recite.  The Marquis expected all the exquisite youths in his company to
recite that degrading little come-on to initiate their sex play.  The
Marquis' underground hedonism club wasn't for socializing.  You were taken
into the bowels of the earth for one reason and one reason only: pure
reckless hedonism and decadence.  If the Marquis found any hesitation or
ulterior motive Trevor would be found out for the plant that he was.  He
was going to have to put on his best whorish performance if he wanted to
fool such a die-hard sadist.

   "And so the master shall," the Marquis said cheekily.  "Young boy, give
me your ass."

   Trevor put his hands against the stone brick wall of the hidden gallery
and braced himself.  He scrunched his eyes tight and mentally wished
himself to another place entirely: in the strong trunk-like arms of his
beloved Brock, smothered in wet playful kisses and licks on his
sweat-covered skin.  Trevor moaned deep and throaty at the memory, his
rigid teen dick leaking precum on the checkered tile below.  Second by
tense second he waited for the impalement that was about to split him in
half.  But after each tick he grew nervous.  Finally he caught his breath
and opened his eyes just a slit.  He didn't have a moment to prepare
himself when the rough calloused hands of the Marquis gripped the sides of
his head and forced it straight, making Trevor stare straight ahead at a
strange surreal lightshow of color.

   Trevor only had a second of realization before his mind muddled that the
Marquis had a Mesmer device at his disposal.  The boy groaned at his
stupidity as the seductive mind-dulling patterns swam in front of his eyes.


   "Yesss cherub, drink in the colors.  The exquisite enrapturing brush
strokes, seducing you, beguiling you, reaching into your soul and
dominating your pitiful will.  Relax....surrender to it's enticing
caresses, let your mind float on a soft cotton candy cloud of
contentment...let your mind grow blank and you loins grow hot and pulsing
with the spark of desire.  Trust in your master...and be his horny little
boy slave."

   Trevor's body grew slack, his arms feeling like jelly as he lost his
grip on the wall.  The Marquis roughly lifted him by the shoulders and
forced his face even closer to the hypno screen.  The boy's mouth fell open
and drooling from the stimulating patterns and the commanding words of his
new master.  Trevor struggled to think, to try to keep himself from losing
his wits entirely to the soothing fog overtaking his conscious thoughts. 
It was so hard to do anything but stare straight ahead in the Marquis grip.
A warm tingly feeling spread all over his body like pungent warm piss.  His
moans and groans and gasps were no longer play-acting.  Every kneading of
his boy nips or touch of his dick from the Marquis was driving him out of
his mind.  Soon his mind was consumed with raw animalistic passion.  The
Marquis violently plunged a spit-covered index finger in between the folds
of Trevor's curvy ass, the painful intrusion fleetingly snapping the teen
out of his stupor.

   "Nnnnnn--noooooooo," Trevor hoarsely moaned.

   The Marquis pinched and fondled Trevor's ass with relish, the yielding
submissive flesh warm and malleable in his hands.  The depraved libertine
mustered up all his self-control not to just take the boy cruelly on the
hard cold surface of the smooth polished gallery floor.  But he had other
designs for dear Trevor.  He held the boy's limp boys upwards towards the
fuzzy shifting pixels of the hypno screen, the boy unable to fight or
struggle or think against the mind-killing display.  Trevor began to smile
dumbly in pleasure, no longer resisting the pleasing feeling when he gave
into the dominance of the Marquis' dastardly hypno device.  The Marquis was
delighted to see the change.  The boy was soon going to be a willing
acolyte under the strict teaching of his libertine master.

   "My sweet cherub, this is the pleasure you've denied yourself for far
too long.  I know how much the burdens of duty and responsibility can weigh
down a trouble young mind like yours.  It's time to let go and free
yourself of that stifling mental bondage.  Free your mind of inhibitions.
Lose control.  Give yourself to the master.  The master is love.  The
master is the light.  Surrender."

   "Yessssss," Trevor said mindlessly.

   "Yes what?"

   Trevor smiled and laughed childishly.  He had no more than a toddler's
intellect now.  The libertine spun the boy around angrily and asked him
again with authority.

   "Respond to me you insolent little shit!  Who is the light?  Who is
love? Who will you give yourself to above all others?!"

   Trevor hugged the fat naked libertine like an oversized teddy bear and
whispered into his ear the answer.

   "You massster."
   And with that the boy passed out.