DOMINATION 
by Mafisto

(mafisto@anon.nymserver.com)

Chapter 4: Wet and Dry

Gary sat on the edge of the bed, frightened, with only a naked John
standing between him and two angry half-naked students. Paul was
oblivious to the whole scene, and stood close to John, hard in his
briefs, taking advantage of John's distraction to discreetly feel his
shoulders and flanks.

"What's happening, Jeff?" asked Sean. "Why are these two acting so
strange?"

"This guy has some way of controlling us, making us do what he says."

"What do you mean? Like hypnosis or something?"

"I guess... But he did not make us sleepy or anything."

Gary was panicking on John's bed. There was no way out of the room
--Jeff guarded the front door and Sean the back door. And how did Jeff
get out of the drugged state anyway? And why wasn't Sean affected? Was
the powder in the shower head all spent? He had left the drug flask in
his room, having brought only the drug-filled tissue and the two water
glasses. But now, the tissue was in the shower, and the water from the
glasses were on Paul and John's bodies. Their wet chests glistened in
the bit of Florida sun coming into the room from the top of the tacky
curtains.

Then it struck him --those two were still wet, while Sean and Paul were
dry! Sean had dried himself off after his shower, and Jeff had done the
same with the bed sheets. For some reason, the drug had effect only when
the skin was still wet with drugged water. It gave him an idea...

"Paul, John," he said. "Hug Jeff and Sean! Hug them close, rub your wet
chests on them."

John took Sean in his grip, while Paul squeezed behind Jeff, and both
started rubbing against their targets despite their struggling.

"Get your hands off me!" said Sean.

"Fuck, man, what are you doing?" yelled Jeff, as the bed sheets he wore
dropped to the floor, and he found himself naked with Paul's erection
rubbing against his ass. "Get your thing off my ass!"

"That's enough. Paul, John, sit down on your beds," said Gary. He needed
to see if his plan was working... "OK, now Sean, kneel before Jeff and
suck his cock. Jeff, you will find Sean's sucking extremely arousing,
you will lose yourself totally in the pleasure he'll bring you."

Gary breathed with relief when he saw Sean drop to his knees before his
blond friend and engulfed the soft cock before him despite himself. As
he was rolling it inside his mouth, his eyes were locked on Gary, who
moved back a step from the hate they projected.

"Don't look at me, Sean," Gary said, his voice faltering a bit. "Look at
Jeff, concentrate on Jeff."

The eyes shifted away. Sean grabbed Jeff's ass with both hands, and
pumped his now hard cock as Jeff writhed in pleasure. A few seconds
later, Jeff trembled in a powerful orgasm, and Gary deduced from Sean's
look of disgust where the cum had gone.

"Swallow it, Sean," said Gary, coldly. "Swallow it all. Every drop. Then
all of you stay put."

It would only do temporarily, Gary thought. They would all be dry soon.
He briefly thought about having them all take a shower, but there
probably was no drug left in the shower head. He did not want to risk
being stuck with the four of them undrugged. Who knew what'd they do to
him? No matter how much he wanted to have them, it would have to wait
until later.

"John and Jeff, put your underwear back on," he said reluctantly. "All
of you, go back to your beds and go to sleep. In ten minutes, you'll
wake up and believe this is the first time you opened your eyes today.
Forget that you have seen me; forget everything that happened this
morning."

They complied to his wishes. He stayed in the room as they slipped
within their beds, until he could tell they were asleep from their
breathing. As he was about to leave, he saw a Blue Sparrow note pad next
to the computer, and was intrigued by what was written on it:

"spank girls streaming video http://153.12.90.7 girl locker room peep
show 78.123.13.62"

He tore the page off the pad and left the room through the fire escape
door. As he was walking to his door, he froze as he felt he was being
watched. He turned and saw a man looking at him from the field behind
the motel, a few yards away. He was middle-aged, with a bald head that
shone in the morning sun. He was dressed completely in black: suit,
pants and shirt, except for a teal tie; he carried a thin black leather
briefcase.

Gary opened the door to his room, then turned back to check on the man.
He was gone. Gary entered his room, wondering how the man could have
gone away so fast. Was it the man he saw the night before? Was he
connected to the strange 'mages are onto us' warning? Gary's heart went
numb until he forced himself to forget about the incident.

He had to find out how to use the number to contact Domination. Those
numbers on the pad. They were a sequence of 4 numbers, like those given
to him by the green man. Were they internet numbers? Gary didn't know
anything about the internet; he used his computer only for the
bookstore's accounting. He'd have to ask around. He took the note with
the green man numbers and put it in his pocket together with the
students' note.

He sat on his bed, took the flask from the night table and opened it. He
had already used almost one third of its contents. The flask was made of
a copper-like metal, engraved with intricate patterns, and was probably
an antique. Gary noticed a subtle vibration when he held it between his
fingers. He brought it to his ears. It had a faint buzz. Or maybe he was
just imagining the vibration and the sound... What was it the man had
said? Something about using the drug if necessary. Within the flask, the
drug wasn't too useful. Gary had an idea...

------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later, Gary entered his room carrying a brown bag. He emptied
its contents on the bed: it was a trumpet-sized water gun, in gaudy
yellow and green, the smallest one he could find. It had been quite a
revelation to find out that the small translucent water pistols of his
youth were impossible to find now. Kids today, an aloof clerk told him,
they want the Super Soakers, Mega Wet Machine Gun, and Power Pumps: the
bigger the better. Well, Gary thought, so much for discretion --he'd
have to hide the Snug Splasher inside his canvas beach bag.

He went to the bathroom to fill the gun's reservoir. With this gun, he
was now in complete control. No more need to clumsily carry glasses of
water. No more intimidation by defiant students. If anyone dared oppose
him, he'd splash him into submission.

Had it come to this? Wasn't he supposed to use the gun only to defend
himself? And where were his plans to use the drug for doing some good?
Walking to the store and back, all he had been able to think about was
how he could enslave that blond guy with the bandana, or that tall teen
with the cowboy hat, or that Adonis with the blue eyes dragging a
scrawny woman by the arm. He added a few pinches of drug in the
reservoir, acutely aware of having used more than a third of the
contents already.

As he came out of his room, he came face to face with John, wearing tan
shorts and a loose white shirt. The student narrowed his eyes briefly,
as if trying to remember something, then he just nodded, scratched the
back of his neck, and walked to the stairs. Gary realized his hand was
stroking the gun in the beach bag, but he saw Jeff and Paul at the
bottom of the stairs, waiting for John. The students ran towards the
street, cursing about being extremely late for the conference. Soon he
would have another go at them...

Gary did not have any plan in mind; he was just looking for an
experience that would not go awry this time. Someone to test the gun
with, he told himself. Make sure it would work in time of need. As he
walked out of the almost deserted motel grounds, he crossed two jocks
with a basketball who were headed for the court next to the pool. They
were quite cute, but he did not dare do something so close to his room.
The street was filled with potential victims; his cock was half-hard
with anticipation. It was too crowded, however, for him to risk a move -
too many chances that something would go wrong. Better look for
someplace less crowded. Looking around, he thought he again briefly saw
the bald man in black in the crowd, but when he searched for him, he was
gone. As usual. Maybe he was just personifying his guilt...

The sky was soaked with a rich blue as if it came straight from the
painting of a child. There were stores and motels on each side of the
street for a long while, then the ocean side cleared up because of a
huge parking lot; beyond the lot, Gary saw hundreds of people on the
beach, compartmented by the equally-spaced palm trees lining the road
between lot and beach.

After the lot came a series of huge private residences. Gary saw a red
Porsche convertible down the street, heading towards him. Just as it was
about to pass him, it stopped. The driver was a gorgeous blond man with
sunglasses. He was shirtless. Gary stopped too, studying the young man's
sharply carved chest, waiting for him to talk.

"Are you gonna get the fuck out of the way?" the man said rudely.

Gary turned around and saw he was standing right in the middle of the
driveway of a huge mint green and peach mansion, where the man probably
lived. He staggered out of the way. The man raced down the driveway,
groaning: "Jerk!" Gary got angry. How dared he talk to him like that? He
wasn't that shy bookstore owner anymore; he was a dangerous man now.
There was no one nearby. He grabbed his gun and walked down the driveway
behind the Porsche.

The man did not notice him --he was getting out of the car, his back to
him. Gary splashed the blonde's naked loins. He sprung a few inches off
the ground; a large spot darkened the seat of his jeans. He whirled
around, his face flushed with anger.

"What's this all about?" he yelled, marching towards Gary. "You want me
to fucking kill you, is that it?"

"Stop and don't move," said Gary in a commanding voice.

The guy instantly froze, almost stumbling down. "What's going on? I
can't move."

He really is gorgeous, with those short blond curls, thought Gary. He
must be a model or something... "Answer all my questions truthfully. Are
you alone in this house?"

"There's the guy cleaning the pool. He's a tough guy. Guess you're out
of luck..." He smiled smugly. His perfect teeth were sparkling white.

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Gary, who wouldn't let go of his catch.
"What's your name?"

"I'm Nick Tyler. Why do I tell you things even if I don't want to?" He
had lost his smile; he was tense.

"Because I'm your friend Gary from Boston," said Gary. "I'm your best
buddy. There's nothing you wouldn't do for me. You're so glad to see me
here; we haven't seen each other in ages. You can't wait to make me tour
your home, now that you can move again."

Gary watched with amazement as the tension in Nick's face faded into a
beaming smile, this time of genuine happiness. He put his sunglasses in
a jeans pocket and stepped towards Gary. He hugged him lightly, probably
his warmest expression of affection, and said:

"Gary! I can't believe you're here. It's been so long... Come on in,
I'll show you the place."

Gary followed his new best friend inside the mansion. The hall was huge
and bare, except for a grand staircase at the other end twisting around
in a half-circle. Parts of the roof were made of stained-glass with
pastel-colored abstract patterns which were magnified and echoed on the
floor. Gary enjoyed acting as a friend of the blond hunk, and learning
how he lived. They reached a room with dark green walls which he called
his office. It was filled with computer equipment: screens, keyboards,
cases, wires, and what he recognized as a scanner. A series of framed
charcoal drawings on the walls highlighted the evolution of the personal
computer.

"So you're still playing with those?" Gary asked.

"Yeah, that's how I earn my living. With some success, as you can
see..."

"I'd say so."

After visiting the first floor, they took a door leading to the pool. It
was an indoor pool, but with a glass roof, and surrounded by exotic
plants and trees. The pool guy was there. He had brown hair in a
crew-cut, and wore cut-off jeans and running shoes without a shirt. He
had a serious look on his face, and Gary was almost sure he was or had
once been in the army.

"He Pete! This is my friend Gary from Boston."

Pete looked at him strangely. "Why does he carry a water gun?" he asked.

"That?" said Gary, lifting the gun loosely. He innocently pulled the
trigger and splashed Pete on the chest. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Pete. Don't
wipe it off. I've always been a bit of a joker, I'm afraid, haven't I
Nick?"

"Yeah Gary," asked Nick, smiling arrogantly at Pete, "you're always
trying to be the clown."

Pete did not seem to like the joke. "What's your problem? That's not
funny."

"Oh, it is Pete. You see, it's already making you relax. So much, that
as soon as we leave, you won't be able to stop thinking about sex.
You'll get really aroused, and you will lose all self-control. Even now,
it's hard for you to think of something other than sex."

"What the...?" said Pete, but then he lost his train of thought, and he
looked dazed. A stupid grin appeared on his face.

They left him there, and Nick asked, giggling: "How did you do that,
man? You think he'll start to jerk off or something when we're gone?"

"Look behind you."

Pete was rubbing a huge bulge which stretched his cut-offs. He was
squirming, staring at them as if he couldn't wait for them to be gone.

"You're good, dude," said Nick with avowed admiration.

They went up to the second floor, and visited a few bedrooms and
bathrooms, until they came to his. A king-sized bed dominated the room,
its bedspread patterned with muted blue and purple triangles. The
furniture was simple and modern, with a lot of metal, and two walls had
been textured with sponge strokes of gold, bronze and silver glossy
paint. The other two walls were a dark purple.

Gary walked to the bay window. It had a magnificent view of the beach
and ocean, as well as the pool and conservatory below through the glass
roof. Pete was lying on the edge of the pool, his cut-offs around his
ankles, jerking off like crazy. There were already a few blobs of cum on
his chest. Good, he wouldn't trouble them for a while. Now, he needed to
make sure Nick would stay under control.

"Let me refresh you a bit," he said, as he splashed Nick on the chest
with the gun. "Doesn't it feel good?"

"Yeah, it does," said Nick, his smoothly tanned chest beaded with water.

"Now, Nick," said Gary, sitting on the small round couch in the bay
window, "I have something to tell you. I noticed the last few times we
were together that you enjoyed showing off your body to me. I don't
mind, you know. It doesn't make you gay or anything. Just a bit of an
exhibitionist. The more skin you expose to me, the more horny it makes
you. We're such great friends, Nick, so close, so intimate; it's normal
that you lose your inhibitions with me. I rather enjoy it, in fact."

"You do? That's such a relief. I was worried you'd think I was a faggot
or something."

"No, not at all. He! It's been such a long time since I've contemplated
your body... Why don't you strip for me?"

"Great idea."

Gary watched with anticipation as this rich and gorgeous blond computer
expert, who had acted like such a spoiled jerk before, was now preparing
to take off his clothes just for his enjoyment, while, down in the
glassed-in conservatory, his pool guy was wildly beating off.