An American Were-Hypnotist in London
Everyone's heard of what happens if a werewolf bites you, but I'm telling you, there are even stranger were-creatures out there waiting for the moon to lay heavy in the sky.
It all started at the Phawly Towers Hotel, a small guest house of dubious quality in Hampstead, London....
“I do not fucking believe this country, only five TV channels and only three with sound AND picture” moaned Saxon
“At least this TV works! The one in our room has no vertical hold” pointed out Joel
“Doc Charmers, says we just have to live with it, says he'll take it up with the bursar when we get back to Uni.” said Reggie
“So what we watching guys? Celebrity Squares?, Ready Steady Cook?, Changing
Rooms or Cricket?”
Asked Mikey twiddling the channel changing button (the remote didn't work)
“What's Changing Rooms?”
“Fixer upper stuff, like Trading Spaces”
“Cricket? That’s like baseball but with only two bases right?”
Quickly I slipped out of the room, pulled my coat on and headed down the stairs; with what I had planned I didn't want a posse of friends along.
“Hold it right there Jennings”
Busted, I thought
“Hi Sir, I was just going for a run...they don't even have cable and...” I gave him the pleading look, the one that always works on mom. I don't know why I did that, old school instinct I guess. I'm 18 and Doc Chalmers ain't got no curfew powers.
Chalmers ran his fingers through his thinning hair. A nervous gesture, It was the first day in of our three week London study vacation and it was already going like crap, the archaeological dig we were intended to help with got cancelled when a Victorian sewer decided to flood the site to a depth of three feet, and as for the hotel... The argument between Doc Chalmers and the hotel manager, a Mr. Phawly, would have been entertaining if weren't for the state of our hotel rooms and the way he abused his Bosnian houseboy.
“I want you back in by midnight. You and I both know this "run" of yours will take at least that long... Don't come back drunk, don't come Back in a police car” continued Chalmers.
“Hey! You can trust me doc” I said with injured innocence
He looked me up and down. He didn't have to say anything; we both knew exactly how believable I had sounded.
“You can rely on me Sir” I replied in my best Boy Scout voice, quickly backing towards the door and freedom.
A second later I stood on the street for taking in the autumnal scene. My heart leapt, this was it! Free and loose in London. I'd had this planned from the moment I'd heard that the hotel was right on the edge if Hampstead Heath.
I'm from the Bible belt y'see, the sort of place that believes gay is something that only happens on coasts. Yeah that's right I'm gay and at this point in the story so totally in the closet that even my friends think I'm just unlucky with girls.
Anyhow. I couldn't believe my luck, here I was within walking distance of one the world's gayest locations, a place where it was said there was a horny young guy behind every tree.
As I walked toward the Heath I noticed there were even a couple of diner vans parked up ready to serve snacks to any cruisers who got hungry. They sure know how to treat you right here in the UK, if even the cruising grounds are catered!
I guess I should have known it was a "paved with gold" concept of how things are; damn that Spartacus guide! I'd walked through the trees for over an hour finding nothing, nada, zip. I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to see another human, let alone a gay one.
Then I found it. Nailed to a tree were two buckets, one containing lube, the other free condoms...how excellent was that! So, I figured, with all these free sex aids there'd have to be someone cruising around here someplace (not that I was getting horny and desperate or anything). I grabbed a few caches and stuffed them in my coat pocket, better safe after all.
That's when I first heard It, I thought it was a dog howling, I know now how wrong I was.
Over to the right, the bushes rustled slightly. Excellent, I thought, finally a guy to check out. Slowly, casually, I just happened to walk in a direction that would put me on the other side of the bushes. Have you noticed how people cruising are the only ones who think they're not looking suspicious?
There was a clearing, where a massive old oak had fallen; I froze as soon as I saw him. He was perched on top of the fallen tree. My first thought was that I was way over dressed. Here was me wearing winter clothes with the collar turned up so as not to be recognised..and there was him nearly naked.
He was wearing long glitter-dusted boots and a sequin covered, magenta dinner jacket; and that was all he had on. He was muscular and tanned, perfect pecs and abs glistening in the pale moonlight. There was something feral about him, the way he crouched on top of that log, the way he sniffed the air.
In his outstretched hand he dangled a pocketwatch on a chain. The watch was swaying like a pendulum and his head moved from side to side following its movement.
I just stood there, he was too perfect to disturb, that and I was still brand new at cruising and didn't know how to make the first move. As it turned out I didn't need to worry about chat up lines or meaningful looks, he'd already spotted me.
His head snapped around looking directly at me. His eyes seemed to glow yellow in the moonlight. Then he moved, leaping down and bounding toward me. He ran on all fours, it was how a chimp runs, sorta like Tarzan in that cartoon.
I backed up startled, stopped by the tree behind me.
My emotions were in turmoil. I'd never done it with a man, I wanted it and I wanted it bad.. but this guy was weirding me out. He was not normal, not normal at all.
He stood right there in front of me, with eyes like a wolf, yellowy gold instead of blue or brown. He sniffed me, savoring my odor like I was a bottle of fine wine.
“Fiforthretoonesleeeeee” he said
Now I was really nervous. He might look drop dead gorgeous but he was definitely not dealing with a full deck.
He lofted his pocketwatch before my eyes. It was a particularly fine one its surface engraved in a leafy pattern. The watch popped open to reveal its face.
“Fiforthretoonesleeeeee” he said
“Umm, Yeah right. Umm nice watch. Really nice. Honestly” I said starting to turn to slip away.
His bronze hued hand pressed my shoulder back against the tree.
“Fiforthretoonesleeeeee!” he said again this time with more urgency
Ok I thought, he is really handsome and he really is insistent that I stay, so perhaps its best to play along until some other cruiser showed.
“Um OK, my name's Phil” I said. (As I mentioned, I'd never cruised before. It's like, rule one.. no one wants to know names).
“Fiforthretoonesleeeeee” he said
Did I tell you about those beautiful yellow eyes? I did, didn't I. I found myself looking into them, with the pocket watch rhythmically interrupting my view of them.
Yeah you guessed it...looking into the dude's eyes, the watch, the funny words, I was drifting into a happy relaxed state almost immediately.
“AuuOoobey” he cried in victory
I just stood there with a sloppy grin on my face. Was I hypnotized? Or was it that I was getting precisely what I'd spent the last three months fantasizing about?
I still just stood there as he broke the zip on my pants, his strong hands pulling them down around my ankles so that he could get at my cock.
He crouched down, balanced on the balls of his feet, his mouth engulfing my penis. I wanted to put my hands on his sequin-clad shoulders and guide his bobbing head, but I couldn't move, I was too relaxed.
“Well, well, well..Looks like we got us a couple of puffs,” said a menacing voice from across the clearing
“Fuckin' perverts” agreed his companion, the one with the baseball bat
It must have surprised my odd friend too, his sharp teeth nipped at my cock, the sudden pain pulling me out of my happy trance.
He turned and leaped at them with a great cry of
At first I thought he was going to protect me. Instead he knocked them down and continued deeper into the woods. I was alone...and the two thugs were getting to their feet, seriously pissed off.
I admit it; I was fucking terrified. I pulled up my pants and yelled “HELP! GAYBASHERS!” at the top of my voice.
Suddenly the woods were alive. It seemed as if a pair or trio of men were stepping from behind every tree. The bat wielder had sufficient grasp of maths to figure 7:1 odds weren't going to be evened with a bat. Quickly he dragged his mate around and ran.
The drama over, the cruisers came over to check on me. Where had they all come from? How had they gotten close without me seeing? I never got an answer. Perhaps The Heath does have some magical property after all.
"You alright old chap?" asked a fat middle-aged guy
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, still breathing hard
“American?” he asked, stating the obvious
“Sure am! It's my first time here.” I said sheepishly
“I'd better fill you in on geography then” he said, putting a friendly hand on my shoulder “you don't just wander about on The Heath, its divided into sections. Around here it’s the S&M crowd, over in that direction's muscle beach, and up by the road is twink's wood, that’s where you'll find the first timers like yourself.”
I guess it’s like guards around a camp; usually the bastards have to get past the muscle and leatherboys before they can beat on vulnerable twinks like me.
I was beginning to shiver as the adrenaline rush ended.
“Why don't I guide you out, you look like you could use a cup of tea.”
“Sure, yeah that'd be great” I said through chattering teeth.
His name was George. I didn't fancy the old dude, but he sure knew how to run a pick up line. By the time I'd finished my tea, he'd given me his phone number and extracted a promise to text him anytime ...anytime... I wanted to be shown around any of London's other gay hotspots.
I didn't tell any of them about the bite, not even George. Perhaps If I had, things would have been different. I don't know. Was I too embarrassed to tell them or perhaps even then I had begun to change.
I snuck back into the hotel room I shared with Saxon without disturbing him.
I was really worried when I found that I was sharing the room with Saxon. If any of them were guaranteed to give me a woody problem Saxon was the one. Saxon's a jock; he's only doing archaeology to pad out his sports scholarship. Unfortunately he's pretty loud about his opinion of gays, and his tolerance of pretty boys (like me) isn't much better.
I've had fantasies where Saxon isn't a total knobhead but there you go, reality's a bitch.
That night I slept very soundly and awoke feeling refreshed; a lot better than I expected given my first adventure in cruising. The first odd thing I noticed was that the cut on my penis had already healed itself. It was a bit odd, but I immediately forgot all about it. In fact, my thoughts went something like this... “Hey the cut's gone. Great, that means I can go cruising again, without risk of catching shit.”
At breakfast Doc Chalmers informed us that as there was still no news when the dig site would be drained of sewage, we might as well go shopping and sightseeing whilst he arranged for us to do some other research. That got a general cheer and we all headed out as a group arguing over what to see first. Saxon was holding out for going to see a soccer game, a team called Totteningham he said (he meant Spurs but he was absolutely sure of the name). That idea got voted down when we discovered the price of tickets and we voted for Harrods department store instead.
We headed to menswear ...talk about over-priced! The guys drifted toward designer t-shirts but something else caught my eye; the most beautiful yellow sequined waistcoat. I ran my hands over it, feeling the rough edged scales of plastic under fingertips. Heaven.
“What do you think guys?” I said holding it up.
“You have got to be kidding” said Joel.
“Its …umm… yellow” offered Reggie, half heartedly.
Never the one to mince words, “Looks like something a faggot would wear,” glowered Saxon.
On any other day I would have taken that as a big "don't do it" warning. I usually took great pains to not-look-gay. Today I didn't care. I had to have it!
It cost me close to £300 which was around $500 U.S... maxing out one of my credit cards. I immediately stuffed my old shirt in the carrier and wore just the sequined waistcoat over my naked boyish torso.
The guys took the piss out of it for the rest of the day. They expected some reaction but got none. I loved that waistcoat, it was like a second skin, and there was nothing they could say to upset me.
The next day was pretty much the same. The others complained of the beds, personally I had never slept better, the dig was still flooded and we went shopping again, this time Selfridges on Oxford Street. That's where things began to get strange again...
“Phil? Phil? Are you all right man?” said a voice.
“Huh?” I said intelligently.
“ You've been looking at those watches for like an hour.”
I shifted my gaze from the watch I'd been looking at for the last five minutes to the next one in the shop display.
“I'm busy” I said not taking my eye off the timepiece.
“We're going to the London Wheel next. You coming?” persisted the voice, I can't recall if I answered or not; I was far too busy looking at the pretty watches.
I love the way the watches count, especially the really old clockwork ones with the mechanisms visible. When you look at the cogs you can always see a smaller one inside and you can even count the number of teeth on each.
Soon enough I felt a tap on my shoulder; it was a smartly dressed security guard.
“I'm sorry sir, we are closing now sir” he said in that deferential butler voice that only a Brit can do properly.
I blinked owlishly at the timepieces, they all said 19:00 and it was dark outside. Flustered, I allowed myself to be guided out onto Oxford Street.
I had lost a whole day. My cousin is an epileptic, he has what's called absence seizures where he just locks solid staring into space for a minute or so. Was that a seizure? One that had lasted several hours? My stomach turned to ice, would this mean my driving license would be revoked like Cousin Andy's had? It never occurred to me that there might be another, stranger explanation. At least not then. Not until after the first full moon.
I hurried back to the hotel and just lay on my bed. My thoughts were in turmoil, fears about my odd loss of time mixed with my new fascination for timepieces and a strange feeling of anticipation.
Later, Saxon staggered heavily into the room. Clearly the worst for drink. I watched him strip, making note of his magnificent butt. Until now I've been careful not to look, treating him as if he were the Medusa and that I'd be turned to stone if I were caught looking. This time I was scoping him out quite openly. Only the fact that he was totally pickled, combined with his having trouble with his buttons, kept him unaware of my lustful gaze.
I slept peacefully, if anything I awoke feeling even more relaxed. My epilepsy fears had vanished along with my fear of being outed. I can't explain it, but a feeling of well being just wiped away all my concerns.
I sat in bed quietly watching Saxon's beautiful body. He was naked, apart from one sock and his pants, which tangled around the same foot; he was slumped on top of the duvet where sleep had claimed him, giving me an excellent view.
The next few days went quickly, our itinerary had included a heavy lecture schedule when we weren't supposed to be at the dig. I had no opportunity to look at any more pocketwatches, which was like an itch I couldn't scratch. I did have plenty of time to scope out each of my classmates though.
My visit to The Heath had seemed to give me a new confidence, I no longer cared what people thought when they saw me watching them. I watched every male I could get my eyes on, assessing them, deciding if I wanted them or not. I quite fancied most of them, I concluded.
Oddly, I didn't return to The Heath or seek out any of the gay bars or clubs. My sex-drive was getting harder and harder to keep under control, and yet I wasn't seeking out any relief. The feeling of anticipation increased with every hour.
Days passed and the moon began to fill out again. My friends and I had stopped speaking, they knew I was checking them out at every opportunity and were uneasy with it. They were too polite to say, but that’s how it was. Saxon of course was a different matter and had made it clear that if he caught me looking there's be trouble...he also started wearing his underwear to bed so that I wouldn't get a free show.
The next day was free again and I headed to the shops, I wanted to look at the pretty watches again. I just had to have one, but which? The gold Hunter? Or the Rolex? In the end it reached closing time and I had to choose. I went with the gold hunter, maxing out my emergency credit card.
I spent the evening bugging everyone in the hotel showing them my new pocketwatch which I would dangle on its chain in that way that showed it off to best effect. I also knew that the moon would be full in less than 18 hours. My watch has a really great split display with a moon symbol that mimics the lunar phases, it was this feature that finally swung my decision, the other watch had GPS, which seemed less useful for some reason.
The next day I must have been unbearable. I was in the same state a 6-year-old is in on Christmas Eve. All I could focus on was the anticipation. I didn't know what it was that would happen, but I knew it would be soon. If it weren’t soon, I would probably explode.
We headed back to the hotel after the lecture and whatever it was, was imminent now; I was shivering with eager anticipation.
"Shit, look at Phil guys" said Reggie.
"Hey man you feeling ok?"
I nodded, still shivering.
"Look at the sweat pouring off him, that’s one heck of a fever he must have."
"Saxon you'd better get him up to your room," instructed Doc Chalmers.
"I ain't touching gayboy. Its probably an STD!" grunted Saxon.
"You want that credit Mister? You take him to the room and see to it that he’s comfortable, right now" instructed Chalmers with more steel in his voice than I would have expected.
Personally I didn't see what all the fuss was about. Sweating made my clothes stick to me showing off my physique, at least what there was of it. The idea of being alone in a room, with Saxon having to make me "comfortable" was great enough to make me comply.
At last it was Moonrise, a special time. I still hadn't put the clues together, and now it was too late. What you see on TV about were-transformations being painful…yeah well, they are right, it fucking hurts.
Saxon had just dumped me on my bed and turned to leave when it started. It felt like my skin was on fire. I ripped at my shirt, spraying Saxon's muscular back with a shrapnel of buttons. I then started on my pants ripping from the ankle upward with an ease that should have surprised me. I didn't get to finish with the pants, things were moving way too fast.
Time seemed to slow. Saxon was beginning to turn around but it was at a snail’s pace, or so it seemed.
My pants, what was left of them, were suddenly a skin-tight fit. The pain surged through me, centering on my cock. I looked down, watched as a bulge in the tight fabric gained an extra three inches.
I began to inhale, ready to exclaim “What's happening to me?” or something like that. I never said it. The pain moved to my now naked abdomen and chest.
I actually saw it happen. It was like watching a vacuum packing machine. My boyishly flat abdomen seemed to just suck inward to define a full six-pack and all those little extra muscles down the sides. The pain moved to my nipples, my pectorals bulged outward and my disoriented mind briefly feared breasts and a she-male future until the pectorals formed, tight and rock hard.
My back arched, only my bare feet and newly muscular shoulders were in contact with the bed.
Then the agony reached my head. My eyes, my teeth, my brain burning, clearing away the unimportant, focusing on what truly mattered.
The pain stopped and I ran my tongue over my canine teeth, slightly longer and slightly sharper...but not fangs.
I knew without having seen that my eyes had changed from brown to golden.
My mind? Yeah that was different too. The top priority now was that I needed things, my pocketwatch and my waistcoat. The watch was easy, it was in my pants pocket; the waistcoat however wasn't immediately visible.
Saxon had finished his turn and his expression was slowly registering one of surprise. I inhaled, my enhanced nose smelling him, my mind saying "Prey."
To a Were prey takes priority, even over vital things like wearing the right clothes.
I looked Saxon the eye, the prey must learn its place, learn who is Master. I'd always thought hypnosis was a skill, something you had to learn, it’s not, to me it’s an instinct.
I lifted the watch swinging it in front of his eyes and said the words:
“Five, Four, Three, Two, One...Sleep.”
“Phil are you alright?” was the reply.
Inexperience, I'd not gotten it right, like every newborn I'm allowed a few fumbles.
It was that fast, one second he was looking concerned, the next he was immobile with a glazed look in his eye.
“Obey!” I commanded victoriously.
My thoughts were getting simpler with every moment. The prey had submitted and now I could feed. The prey's pants were no more resistant to my strength than my own had been.
The prey knew that an erection was required. I crouched down, tasting cock for the first time. I was in heaven, and then the prey did its duty and fed me its white nectar.
The taste drove me wild, sending me completely over the edge. I hungered for more.
I hurt all over, that was my first thought. There was a sound of traffic and the tinkle of coins against pavement.
I opened my eyes.
I was in the street, curled up in a largish doorway. The sound of coins had been someone mistaking me for a beggar.
I had no idea where the fuck I was or how I gotten there. I quickly checked myself over. I was wearing my sequined waistcoat; I still had my pocketwatch and (fortunately) what was left of my pants. The jeans were a mess, ripped off at the knee on the right and slit up to the thigh on the left.
My body had changed back, I vaguely remembered bulking up like a less extreme
version of the Hulk. I was back to my normal skinny self, but all the boy fat
was gone, replaced by a six-pack that didn't need me to hold my breath. I knew
without having to check that my eyes were still golden in color.
I had a feeling that I'd had a really good time, but couldn't quite remember exactly how bad I'd been.
I stepped back from the doorway trying to figure out where the hell I was. It was covered in posters advertising "Mama Mia, the Abba musical, at the Northumberland Theatre." It seemed obvious that this was the theatre's loading bay.
Walking out onto the street I noticed that a large number of shops were selling porn or had rainbow flags out; I was also getting checked out by many of the pedestrians, who seemed to act as if they'd prefer to get me someplace naked.
“Where the hell am I,” I wondered, “with so many openly gay guys around?” Then I saw the street sign ‘Old Compton Street’ and I knew where I was…in the heart of Soho, on London's gayest street.
“How the hell did I get here?” I asked myself. I'm no expert on geography but I know Hampstead and Soho are miles apart. A little way down the street was a taxi office for Rainbow Cabs. I decided to get a cab back to the hotel.
The cabby’s name was Erika and like cabbies everywhere he had opinions and a life history he wanted to share. Unlike most, he wore eyeliner and had just started on the hormones
As we pulled up outside the Phawly Towers Hotel, I dug into my pocket for his fare. I was several pounds short.
I gave him the pleading look and began to explain how I'd have to go inside to get more cash. I felt a shiver go through me and I adjusted my gaze making it a powerful stare, it was instinctive to look at him that way.
Erika got a sloppy, happy look on his face and said “no charge.”
“Thanks man!” I said and thought nothing further of it.
I ran into the hotel, it had started to rain, and entered the hotel. Phawly himself stood behind his reception desk with that haughty arrogant look on his face. He ignored me.
I raced upstairs taking the Victorian staircase two steps at a time. I saw the first evidence of my "what I don't remember" when I entered the room I shared with Saxon.
Saxon still stood there at attention, his pants in shreds around his ankles. I walked around him, he didn't move. I touched his flaccid cock, which hardened to my touch; but other than that he still didn't react.
I remembered the taste, a small fragment of memory. On a hunch I left him alone and went next door to check on Joel and Mikey.
Joel was on his knees his head angled slightly upward, Mikey was propped against the bed his ass at the ideal angle, dried cum formed a white crusty line from his anus up toward his shoulder blades.
“Fuck” I said out loud.
“Yes Master,” said both boys, Joel moving to join Mikey near the bed and presenting his ass to me.
“What did I do last night?” I wondered aloud.
“You hypnotized us and made us yours Master,” answered Mikey.
“And then you left,” added Joel, sounding disappointed.
I began to get a suspicion and went to the next room and found Reggie and Paulo. They were in a similar condition. Reggie led on his back on the floor with a nose that needed a wash with antiseptic. Paulo was on his bed practically doing the splits, his legs so far apart. I was frowning by then and slowly backed out into the corridor.
“Everyone I had sex with last night come out into the corridor,” I yelled.
Doors opened all down the corridor, I'd been very very busy. Some of these people I didn't even recognize.
I was about to exclaim 'fuck' but thought better of it.
Then I saw old Doc Chalmers without his pants.
Immediately they all turned and presented their asses.
“OK, everyone back into your rooms,” I ordered. I just wasn't ready for that much ass, not yet anyway.
I remembered Phawly's ignoring me on the way in. I quickly ran down to check. As I had feared, below the cover of the reception desk his pants were reduced to a few strips of fabric.
“Get dressed, and put out the no vacancies sign. No new guests until I say otherwise.”
I happened to glance out the door. Outside there was a black cab. Erika had not gone to his next fare.
Sighing, I went outside to the cab
“Master,” he said questioningly?
“Act normally Erika.”
“Yes Master,” replied Erika, picking up his radio mic. “Car 15 dropped off, heading to Cornwall Street.”
Going back inside, my thoughts were in turmoil. I sat in reception looking at my pocketwatch, winding the mechanism and polishing its face with a paper tissue. Polishing the watch helped me think. Idly I dangled it on its chain, watching it twist in front of my eyes.
The doorbell dingled and I heard Phawly telling the person that the hotel was full.
“I'm expected,” said a voice I recognized, a scent I recognized.
I flipped the watch into my palm and jumped to my feet. I was ready to fight; I guess my new instincts had a territorial component.
“Be still!” he commanded. “I am not here to feed.”
He was different from how I remembered. He was in full dress, sequined tuxedo and cape, a flower in his buttonhole, white gloves and a top hat in hand, a gold-headed walking stick in his other hand. He was about 25 and was still the most beautiful man I'd ever seen…and those eyes!
“You! What did you do to me?”
“An accident, old chap. I had intended to add you to my collection, not to create a rival.”
“Rival? Yes,” I thought, “you'd take my boys from me wouldn't you, given a chance.”
“Yes, rival. You can barely stop yourself from attacking. Only the fact that I'm just outside your personal space is holding your new instincts in check.”
“What. Did. You. Do to me?” I demanded through gritted teeth.
“Here's the deal. I will give you your answer, and in return you get the fuck out of London. This is my territory, understood?”
I thought about it. I understood now, it was a territory thing, I could relate to that.
“I'm returning to the US next week, that soon enough?”
“You've heard of Werewolves?”
I nodded; I must have looked terrified.
“Don't worry its not quite like that. For us it’s cum we hunger for when the moon is full, not blood. We use the force of our stare to trap humans like rabbits in a headlight and then feed on their cream.”
I was getting hard just thinking about it. He knew how my mind worked.
“The humans don't have a name for us. I guess the closest thing would be a Were-hypnotist. I bit you by mistake, now you are one too.”
“The waistcoat and pocketwatch? How can a dodgy dress sense and a fascination with pocketwatches be transmitted by a bite?” I asked suspiciously.
“If I'd had bondage gear and a pierced nose you'd have gone that way instead..In a way I'm your father, and sons copy their fathers.”
“So what do I do now? Can I control this moon-change, prevent it somehow?”
“Do you want to?”
“Well no, but...”
“Even if you wanted to, the hunger for fresh cum is too great. Even between moons you're going to be craving it.”
I must have looked kind of lost, so he went on impatiently.
“Look, what you do once your back in America is your concern, but I suggest you look into a career as a stage hypnotist, most of our kind have found that it's a good cover, allowing us to practice our hypnotic gaze and get a free drink between moons.”
The thought of fresh cum made my stomach rumble and I briefly glanced up the stairs to where my boys waited.
“What about the rest of it? Do I got to watch out for Buffy and the Scooby gang?” I asked sarcastically.
“With the current enlightened era even the Catholics have stopped bothering with us...for now. That doesn't mean you don't be careful, in a couple of centuries it could get nasty again. And yes, the silverware is poisonous, take your own cutlery just in case.' he warned.
My stomach rumbled again and I glanced down at my abs, the Were-Hypnotist had heard it too.
“You'd better go feed, it’s still a full moon today, drink as much cum as you can, if your humans can't give you enough you'll be poaching on my territory once the moon rises. That would be bad for you young pup,” he warned.
I knew, without having to think about it that he could rip me a new asshole and make me enjoy the process if I crossed the line.
“I'll try not to,” I said lowering my eyes.
Satisfied that I was sufficiently submissive he swept out, his cape swirling behind him.
I had to drink cum, he'd said. OK I thought. I can live with that. I licked my lips and headed upstairs.
My first thought was just to go at it, but then it occurred to me to ration myself. If I drank one shot of cum per hour, the first ones would have a fresh load later on, when the moon was high.
It worked too, when I awoke the next day I was still in the hotel. Satisfied that I had the situation under control I had Doc ring in to cancel all the planned lectures and ordered my boys to lick me clean. I was beginning to enjoy life.
American soil. And I nearly didn't make it! Thank God they insist on locked cockpits these days.
It hadn't occurred to me that it would be a full moon during the flight back!
I've gone from owning a dozen humans to owning several hundred during the course of the eight-hour flight.
I also had a really bad case of indigestion from all that rich boy-cream. My abdomen actually looks slightly bloated from my extended buffet session.
The police were called of course; the cabin of the 747 had taken quite a lot of damage as I hunted. Not one passenger or steward will tell them what happened of course. I expect the stewards will be sacked, but that’s all right, I'm sure I can find a use for them…and several of the others that I've decided to keep.
Taking Saxon by the hand I led the way out into the bright sunshine. I've spent the last week gazing into Saxon's eyes. I regressed him to puberty and am accelerating him forward with some new attitudes. He thinks he's 12 right now, but by the end of the week he'll be back up to 18 and have a more liberal/hedonist outlook on life. If that works out I may decide to bite him.
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