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The Recruiting Ground

Story for JackDuRoi

18+

CW: Abusive language, gaslighting, ego death

Tonight's the night I'm breaking my record. I can feel it.

Every Saturday I hit a club. Any old club, really, anywhere where there's cute boys and men to wrap around my little finger and leave weak, quivering and desperate. It's easy for me, with my natural charisma - and my hypnotic talents.

Everyone here's out to have a good time, to forget, or to have a good fuck. And I can supply all three of those things. It just so happens I do it so well that it basically fucks them up forever.

I don't usually go to fetish clubs, where you'd expect to get some easy prey. I prefer to challenge myself, introduce someone to the joys of submission before I break them, ruin their mind and leave them eating out of the palm of my hand for scraps of affection.

I can see some familiar places in Boudoir already. I clock eyes with that cute bat twink who not even a week ago was buried between my feet, and is looking at me with the hungriest, most desperate eyes I've ever seen. As much as I'd enjoy feeling him polish my boots with his firm tongue and his velvet lips, I break eye contact and cast my gaze elsewhere. Then there's the pudgy lizard who hasn't gotten a crumb of interest from me in weeks. I can see how badly he wants to suck me off. It's probably obvious to half the club. He did make the cutest moans when I pushed the back of his head into my crotch or my pits. But again, I'm here for new meat.

Finally, I pass by the fox and the hound, sitting at opposite ends of the bar. They gaze adoringly at me, and do their best to pretend the other one doesn't exist. Not surprising after I destroyed their relationship, refocusing the fiancées' love for each other into lust for me. Making them fight and scream at each other over who made a better hole for me was hot as hell.

The hound was just barely the better one - tight as a virgin. But I wouldn't tell them that. Their angst was delicious.

If I snapped my fingers, those four would all come racing for me, and knocking each other over - they're all well-conditioned to be at my beck and call.

Maybe I'll do so later. It'd be fun watching them fight over me.

But not yet.

Tonight, I've set a goal for myself.

I'm going to make five new hypnotised sluts. Break five new hearts. Make five new pairs of hungry eyes.

Fuck, at the rate I'm going, I'll probably have the entire bar under my sway within a month.

The thought of that only makes my cock strain against my tight, bulging leather pants. I can't wait to give it some air and drape it over some needy little cockslut's face.

The only question now is where to start. Who to start with.

First off, I clock a slender young macaw with purple plumage. I peg him as maybe 18 or 19 at most. When I see him using his college ID to pay for a drink, my suspicions are confirmed. Young, dumb, excitable and eager to please. The fresh meat always makes for the best warmup.

I strike up a little conversation with him. It's not long before I'm leaning against the bar and towering over him. Ensuring he can't look anywhere but me. He's blushing like crazy, and can't stop smiling and laughing at everything I say. I see his gaze sometimes wander up to my mohawk, sometimes downwards towards my muscular body and my bulge. If this kid was still figuring out whether he was a bottom or a top, he's probably starting to lean towards the former.

Especially after I lay my paw on the side of his head and stroke it. It's a friendly touch that becomes more forceful and insistent. I watch his eyes flutter as they stay trained on my lips, reading them so he can follow my voice all the more easily, before we head someplace where it's far easier for him to hear me. And to sink for me.

I keep stroking his downy plumage as we walk, my hand travelling down his back to the curve of his pert, cute little rump. My fingers dive into the cleft and slide into his velvet, virgin pucker, and he shivers with desire.

As I'm fucking him against the bathroom stall, he cries out that he loves me. It makes my dick throb, and I bite down on the back of his neck. His flexible spine arches downwards as he whines with pleasure.

"Tell me you love me again, fuckmeat," I growl into his ear. I want to make sure he says it when I cum inside him.

As soon as I've finished, I draw myself out of him, leaving him trembling over the toilet with spread, splayed legs.

I fix myself up and unlock the stall to leave him there.

When he asks me where I'm going, and if I'll finish him off, I tell him good toys don't cum. He whimpers and shivers, but he doesn't complain. He's too fuck-drunk and horny to dare disobey.

Maybe I'll come back to him later.

That anticipation will help me properly ruin him later tonight.

As I leave, the hound tries to intercept me. I don't even look at him. Same goes for his ex. I'm more interested in the silver-haired bull-dad the fox was talking to. I ask him if he'd like a smoke. My charisma washes over him. I had him pegged as being suggestible, and I was right.

He forgets the cute fox he was talking to and focuses entirely on me. I leave the fox to stew in his jealousy and frustration. It's a delicious feeling.

Out in the cool air, he breathes in my scent as we share a cigarette. I don't even need to fuck him to wrap him around my little finger - though I will, later. For now, a little clandestine fondling of his cock through his trousers is more than enough to get him desperate. His dick isn't very big, but the contours of his balls fit nicely into my hand.

I could have taken him somewhere and really gotten to work on him. But then a far more exciting target meets my eye.

No, three targets.

I've seen them before. They turn heads every time they walk in, including my own. Their muscular bodies are darker than an eclipse, as are their leather jackets and tight pants. Each of them have matching pompadours, glowing bright gold just like their eyes. A jackal, a dragon, and a panther. Each of them have a down-ward pointing triangle visible on their bared chests. It's a pretty good look, all things considered.

I watch them enter. They don't acknowledge me. But then, they don't acknowledge anyone when they enter; they never do until they pounce.

I've seen them working their charms on the odd person in there in the past. They work as a unit. They surround someone who looks lonely, buy them some drinks, and have a long conversation before spiriting them away.

Maybe they're rent boys. Or maybe they just like taking their time.

Either way, they've stolen a few boys I really wanted in the past; when I tried it on with them since, they had the fucking gall to politely turn me down, with absolutely no interest. None of my tricks worked at all, and it completely ruined my night. That's all the more reason for me to get some revenge. And now's as good a night as any.

I shush the dad mid-conversation and drop my cigarette on the ground, to follow the three of them inside.

I'll get their attention soon enough.

**

Boudoir remains an ideal practising ground.

We find the clientele to be far more interesting than those who attend fetish clubs.

They are often just on the edge of discovering new paraphiliae.

We are fascinated by what we often find when we tease the limits of their libido, and expand them.

Our creator believes that a person's true soul and self is expressed through their desires.

We agree.

We agree with everything he believes.

And we want to make others agree, just the same.

We sense a great deal of loneliness in the room tonight.

Some tension.

We suspect it is due to that one.

We note, through Gamma's glance behind, that that one is following us, watching.

He has been tampering with the clientele, in a profoundly negative way.

He seems to focus on giving his subjects his own paraphiliae, over-writing their own desires and personality to be entirely devoted to him.

His aptitude with hypnotism is of note to us.

We note that he would make a good enforcer.

We also note that allowing him to continue to work unabated will have a further negative impact on the clientele.

Which will impact our ability to practice our skills.

He must be dealt with.

Tonight will be the night.

Our consciousness and perception expands far past our visible eyes. We view everything around us with perfect, absolute clarity. This allows us to better examine the subject.

The subject is a hyena, well built, likely in his early to mid 30s judging from his cellular makeup. High levels of testosterone and libido. It is easy to see why he is able to draw other subjects under hypnosis.

Other beings in the club space are fixating on him. Elevated heart rates, greater blood flow to the face and genitals. Judging from the subject's eye movements, he seems to particularly fixate upon Alpha.

This is ideal. Alpha is the most apt choice to be on point.

We surmise that he may attempt to divide and conquer.

Alpha will move to lure him out, and Beta and Gamma will join when the time is right.

**

I know I need to take my time approaching. Catch the odd glance. Let them see my eyes and want to come closer and get a better look.

That jackal's pretty cute. That snout of his makes him look like he's going to make for a really good face-fuck. Long and slender, and I can already picture it creasing up as his nose presses into me.

Very serious, though. He'd be way cuter if he smiled. I'll make sure to fix that.

He makes his way to the bar, a small toothpick sticking out of his mouth. He's really leaning into the greaser vibe - then again, all three of them are. I wonder if they talk like something out of an old 50s tv show as well.

One way to find out.

I lean on the bar next to the jackal as he waits to be served. The barkeep is currently shaking up some cocktails for a gaggle of straight girls, so it's going to be a while.

"You look like a whiskey guy," I say. "On the rocks?"

His eyes are completely orange, so I can't really tell if he's looking at me. He's just turning that toothpick over and over in his mouth, drumming his fingers gently on the table.

"I prefer it neat," he says.

"Cool, cool," I say. I'm not in his personal space yet. But I'll invite myself in before long. Just waiting for the right opportunity to do so.

"I gotta say," I continue, "I love your pompadour, it's a great look."

"Thank you." he really isn't giving me anything back. His face is still a blank slate, like a black hole.

"The whole greaser thing? It's a powerful look. I'm sure you and your buddies turn heads wherever you go."

"We do." he holds up two fingers as he flags down the barkeep. "Double Whiskey. Neat. And..."

Now he's looking at me. His eyes don't look any different, but I can feel them on me as he turns his snout towards me.

"I'll have a beer." I say. He's already buying me a drink. Perfect. I never pay for drinks anyway, but the fact that he's offering is a good sign. I've got a way in.

As the barkeep turns away, I continue the conversation.

"You not getting anything for your friends?"

"No, they'll come up when they're ready."

"Uh-huh." I glance towards the dragon and the panther. They're looking out at the dance floor where the fresher cuts of meat are gyrating. I think. Or maybe they're looking at me. Hard to tell with those weird glowing eyes.

"I've seen you here a lot," the jackal says, drawing my attention back to him.. "We all have. You've got a bit of a reputation."

"That so?" I let my voice lilt lower, that husky quality that never fails to enchant. "What sort of stuff have you heard, hon?"

"Not heard. Seen." he leans back a little, and I can see that fox - what was his name? Fuck, doesn't matter - staring at me. He's a couple drinks deep, probably heartbroken that I stole his date. He looks like he's on the verge of tears.

The jackal is looking at him too, before he turns his snout back to me.

"We didn't even need to hear the gossip; we saw what you did to Sean and Vincent."

"Yeah, well, Vincent-" I gesture towards the fox. "He wasn't really happy with that dog of his anyway, it wasn't my fault.."

It kind of was, but that was beside the point.

"Maybe so. But that's Sean. Vincent's the other one."

Who the fuck does this guy think he is, trying to show me up?

Now I really am gonna have to ruin him.

"Alright, so what's your name?" I lean and loom over him, making it clear who's supposed to be in charge here.

"Alpha."

Of course he's called Alpha. I bet the other two have similarly stupid names.

I'll change that. There's another challenge for tonight; get them to forget their old names, and give them new ones.

"So, Alpha, just what are you looking to do tonight? What're you and your friends looking for?"

"New experiences, really." Alpha's eyes bore into mine. I let mine bore right back. I've already turned on the charm, and I'm sure there's no chance of him looking away now.

"Yeah... I'd bet so." Time to lay down a string of words. "You strike me as the kind of person who's used to being in control. You're cool, calm, collected, and that's sexy as hell. But you know... giving up that control is a lot more fun than you can imagine. Take it from me."

"You've been a submissive in the past, I take it?"

"Yeah."

No. But a lie or two always works a treat to disarm them.

"I can't say we've experienced hypnotism from that perspective. However, we do understand the importance of knowing one's place. Our master - our employer - has ensured we remain in line."

It's hard to tell if he's smiling with that featureless black face. But it seems like he is. Like he's flirting.

"Take it from me," I say, "There's nothing like allowing your mind to just switch off for a while, let someone else call the shots and pull the strings. It's so much more relaxing to let someone else take the wheel for a while, and just focus on feeling good. You like feeling good, don't you?"

I nod my head, and I catch him nodding a millimetre or two with me.

I've got him already. Pathetically easy. Or maybe I'm just that good.

**

The 'slip of the tongue' worked perfectly. The target is far too confident in his abilities to realise the ruse.

We find it a little disappointing that this is turning out to be far easier than anticipated. However, we will derive satisfaction from the end result.

As will the subject.

**

With the ground-work laid, what else is there to do aside from push on?

"You understand what submission and subordination feels like. You know it. And it feels good to admit that to yourself. It feels good to admit that you enjoy the idea of being someone's servant. And hypnosis... makes that feeling ten times stronger."

I've reached across the bar to rest my hand tentatively on his knuckles. He doesn't resist. He just keeps looking at me with those golden eyes. I stare right back. Unblinking.

I know I've got him. I wonder if I could steal him off and finish him off before our drinks arrive.

I don't get the chance to test that out, as I hear the tell-tale clink of the glasses on the counter.

He doesn't stiffen or flinch. He just stares.

"Drinks are here," I say 'helpfully'. I open his hand with my fingers, stroking his palm, and guide it to his whiskey. "You should have a drink. You look thirsty."

"Hrm." he grunts. I nod, he nods, and I grip his hand with mine, helping him get a good grip.

"Take a sip," I remind him again. He lifts it to his muzzle and takes a slow drink. He has very nice lips. I can't wait to see how they feel.

"Good boy," I coo, my other hand resting on his thigh and giving it a slow, gentle rub. No one can resist me calling them a good boy.

"It's a nice relief after a long day, isn't it? Now you can say 'I'm off the clock, I can relax'. And what better way to relax than listening to my voice, following my words, and letting yourself float and sink deeper and deeper into my words, my eyes.

"And the deeper you sink, the better you feel. Take another sip for me. Good boy. Your eyes are getting a little heavy, your body is getting a little sluggish.

"It's not the whiskey, you know that. It's me. I'm making you like this. And you like that I'm making you like this. Yes?

"Nod with me. Good boy." He nods with me.

"Have another sip," I tell him as my hand strokes up and down his thigh. He doesn't resist "It's nice and sharp and bracing. The taste is so strong and delicious. You have to savour it. Take your time with it. Enjoy the journey. Because when that glass is empty, and when your mind is empty, the real fun can begin. You like to have fun, don't you puppy? Yes. Nod. Good boy."

He seems visibly more relaxed now. He's drunk through that whiskey faster than he normally might. The tipsiness will only make it easier to turn him into a cockslut.

"Why don't you follow me," I ask him, "And we can take things from there, hm?"

"Yes," he says.

"Follow me," I say, gently taking his hand and guiding him with a tug. I get a little more forceful now. I know I have him. The combination of the alcohol, my voice, and his obvious crush on me is going to keep him under as I take him back to the bathroom.

**

We will begin momentarily.

**

"Master, hi~!" the little macaw twink is waiting for me in the big stall. He's been here the whole time, hasn't he? Fuck, that's pathetic.

Maybe if I wasn't with someone I'd indulge him. But no, I've got much bigger fish to fry.

"Get out, slut," I say to him. A long stare into his eyes makes him shrink and whimper, before he slowly slinks out, trying not to cry and failing miserably.

My newest slut doesn't pass comment. He's too into me to do so. If anything, he might have felt jealous.

"I have something delicious for you to taste, my friend," I coo into his ear, feeling him shudder. "All you have to do is kneel, and open your mouth, and let me take it from there."

"Mmmh." he nods. His eyes haven't changed, so it's a little hard to tell if he's /really/ hypnotised or not. But he kneels down for me.

"Tasting the mouthfeel of that whiskey on your tongue, still? Well, let this taste join it. This scent. This pleasure."

I unbuckle myself and fish out my cock. I drape it over his golden snout and let him sniff and breathe it in. My hands grasp the back of his and hold him tight as I guide the tip to his lips. I avoid the hair. It seems like he would rather not.

I thrust into him, and nearly cum on the spot.

It's like warm velvet. Within half a second I know this is the best head I've ever gotten in my life, and maybe ever will get. I'm going to enjoy this.

"Gooood boy," I groan, pushing myself forward and feeling his snout squish against my crotch. "Gooood boy, let your mind sink as my cock sinks deeper into you. My cock fills you, my will fills you, and it's going to push out everything else..."

I start to thrust more forcefully. I don't want to wait. I can tell I don't need to take it slow. The way he's letting me in makes that clear. He's barely even suckling back. His mouth is just a hole for my use. Fuck, that's hot. Hotter than if he did actually try. He's just a blank receptacle.

"Being a cockslut becomes you," I say. "It suits you so totally and perfectly. And I'm going to make sure you stay this way all the time..."

...When did the other two get in? I locked the fucking stall door, didn't I? So how did...

My thought is interrupted when two dark bodies press against me. A scaly tail wraps around my legs and squeezes tight. A fuzzy one binds my arms and tickles my chest. They squeeze me tightly. How the fuck?!

"Hey!" I shout. "Get the fuck off me!"

They wrap their arms around me and press in close. They're bigger than I thought. They smother me and they begin to speak. The panther purrs into my left ear, the dragon growls into my right.

Their voices are the exact same as the jackal's... th...the fuck...?

|

Relax. Don't fight it. You shouldn't fight it. You have no reason to right. You have no reason to resist. You are unable to escape. But a part of you does not want to escape. You understand submission. You understand subordination. You said it yourself, didn't you, so you should relax and experience it truly, profoundly, deeply.

You should not resist. You do not need to resist. You do not want to resist. It is important that you listen to us. And that you sink for us. And that you do everything we say. And that you feel pleasure every time you do what we say. Yes?

Nod.

Good.

It feels good to nod, and affirm, and agree.

Yes?

Nod.

Good.

Yes?

Nod.

Good.

Yes?

Nod.

Good.

When you cum you'll drop.

When you cum, you'll give in.

When you cum, your ego, your id, will go to sleep for a long, long, time, and you will understand what submission really feels like. You will understand it to the depths of your soul. And you will understand that it is your true place.

Cum. You want to cum. You need to cum. You should cum.

Yes?

Nod.

Good.

Yes?

Nod.

Good.

Yes?

Nod.

CUM.

|

The jackal starts to suck and squeeze with perfect dexterity.

His head tilts from side to side and his tongue wraps around my dick, and my mind erupts with pleasure, and I can't think straight for a moment.

Fuck, was he ever hypnotised to begin with? Did I just get played?

No, no, that's not what's happening.

I clench my jaw shut and I resist. No. This isn't going to work on me. Even if there's three of them, and their voices sound so good, and their bodies feel so warm against me, and even though part of me doesn't want to escape, and I don't want to resist, and I should relax...

I nod. Why am I nodding? It makes me feel good when I nod, very good, very woozy, like I've had just enough to drink to get a proper buzz...

I feel my jaw relaxing, and I clench it again. I try to pull away, but the snouts are at my ear, they aren't stopping, and I can't quite understand what they're saying, it's overloading me and I'm nodding along, and I'm nodding along, and I'm nodding along, and...

I feel like I'm going to cum.

I feel so close. That's bad. That's bad. This isn't supposed to be happening this soon. I shouldn't be cumming this way, but that snout, the way it pushes and thrusts, the way it tugs my hips forwards and back...

I can't cum yet, if I cum, I'll... I don't know, but I don't want to do that, or do I, maybe I do, maybe I should go to sleep, maybe I should bare my soul, maybe I should cum, I want to cum, I need to cum, I should cum. I nod. I don't know what I'm nodding to, but I know I have to nod. I know it feels good to nod. I know it feels good to thrust. I feel so foggy, I feel so horny, my mind is so sluggish, and i want to cum, I nod, I want to cum, I nod, I want to cum, I nod, I want to cum, I - *

|

Feel the warm mouth, feel the pleasure, let the pleasure warm you, warm soft mouth warm soft mind, soft soft mind, thrusting and squeezing and throbbing, sucking out the thoughts, sucking out the resistance, just open your mouth and open your mind and let us in.

Allow this to happen. Allow the pleasure to happen.

Resisting will only make it feel better when you give in, and relax. So resist as long as you can, obey us and resist until it will feel better to give in, even though you don't want to resist, and it makes your mind stir and melt and throb.

You don't need to understand. You don't need to comprehend. You just need to listen. You need to listen and submit, listen and obey, and you nod along, and you drift deeper deeper still, and when you're deep enough you will be an empty vessel, a blank slate, ready to be filled with new programming, new beliefs, new ideals, far more suitable to you than your old self. Enjoy the warmth. Enjoy the mouth. Enjoy Alpha's maw. Learn to love it. Learn to love how it sucks your will dry, how it reminds you of your place, of how easy you are to manipulate. And how this is your true place. Smothered. Sinking. Falling. Smothered. Sinking. Falling. Deeper. Thrust. Foggy. Horny. Thrust. Foggy. Horny. Thrust. Foggy. Horny. Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. So close. So close to submitting. So close to it. So close. So close.

CUM.

|

**

As soon as the target climaxes, his mouth is open wide enough to allow Gamma to push his tongue inside. Beta joins a moment later, and they form a helix to push down his throat. It masks the sound of his climax. Undue attention will potentially cause unnecessary distractions. As we smother him with our bodies and our tongues, Alpha drinks down his cum. His eyes have rolled up into his head, and he goes limp in our grasp. We continue to suck and molest him. He does not resist.

This is not unexpected. Targets who identify themselves as hard Doms often are far more pliant than they realise.

We push more thoughts into his mind, re-knitting his neural pathways into something that better suits his true self. His dominant skills will not go un-utilised. He will make a good enforcer. A low ranking one, but a useful one nonetheless.

As we lead him out, surrounding him as though he were a VIP, we note a great deal of attention upon us. The former thralls approach us, seeking to prise their former master from our custody. We are able to pause them with a glance. Reaching into their mind and un-doing their programming takes no more than 2.23 seconds per subject.

We do not linger to watch the reunion of the estranged couple, or the renewed vigour of the now-freed patrons of the bar.

This is not done out of altruism, necessarily. Their suggestibility is noted. Once their occupations have been deduced, a suitable position within the organisation will be found for them.

For the time being, though, we have a new enforcer to train.

The night is young.

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