tagGay MaleDominating Jessie Ch. 01

Dominating Jessie Ch. 01

bySophieJClark©

Please note that this story contains ideas that some readers might find disturbing. Magical mind/body control is the overall theme (as this is a M/M story I chose to place it in the appropriate M/M section), if you do not like that kind of story, that's fine, thank you for your interest and I hope you have a great day. If you do read on then I hope you enjoy and feel free to rate and comment. Your feedback brightens my day.

Copyright Sophie J Clark

Chapter One

Jessie felt the pull...again, only an hour after he'd arrived home for the day. It'd been happening with increasing frequency ever since his 18th birthday but this time it was simply too strong to resist. It felt like someone was tugging at him all over, trying to pull him forwards. Concentrating on anything other than walking was almost impossible. Even sitting in class, he'd had to hold onto the desk to stop himself from falling flat on his face, the pull had been so strong. Now was just the last straw. He had to find out what was going on and if it turned out that all of Princes' talk about witches was real...well, he had a baseball bat and the ability to make chocolate cakes. One of the two should work to get them to take the spell off of him.

He told his Mum he was heading out early tonight and, without having a clue where he was going, gave in to the tugging in his gut and began to walk.

***

He hadn't even known this place existed, never mind believed it was possible that he'd be allowed to walk around here without a police escort. Some of the houses had gardens so large that you could barely see the building at the other end of them. Even the street lights were made up in some fancy Victorian design. Shit, what was he doing here?

He lived in an ex-council high rise flat with his Mum. He was on a first name basis with both the local addicts and the dealers and had managed to work out an acceptable shift system for use of the communal 'garden' with the local gangs. It was situated in between the four huge high-rise flats that housed more people than this whole neighbourhood put together. His garden was a glorified concrete wasteland, these were, well, he couldn't have even dreamed these up.

Growing up he'd watched from above as the locals had made the concrete their own. They'd plied stones and slabs together to create makeshift benches and every year the kids would try to cultivate a patch of dandelions with such ferocity that even the feral dogs wouldn't touch it. Did these people even get dandelions? He doubted it. Shoving his hands deeper into his pockets he sneered as he thought that they were probably too rich for dandelions. He could make out manicured bushes in the afternoon light and despite the fact that it was autumn, there wasn't a leaf out of place. There wasn't even a stray bottle to kick to keep himself entertained. No wonder posh people always looked so pissed off. They must be bored out of their brains.

He kept on walking as whatever was pulling him forwards showed no signs of relenting. When he reached the end of a particularly overly manicured driveway and lawn he stopped to watch a cat and tried to distract himself, by holding an impromptu staring contest with it. After a few minutes had passed he graciously declared to the animal that he felt it was a draw and gave in to the relentless tugging. He was clenching his stomach muscles and jaw to keep from screaming. Everything in his body was saying move, move, go to it, you have to follow; but as he moved ever closer his mind was trying everything it knew to stop him. He didn't want to give in. He didn't want this to be happening, but it was and he couldn't fight it any more. He had to know. He just had to.

The pull was taking him right across the lawn and around the side of a huge white house. The entire building was big enough to fit at least four full families from his estate inside and the thought made him want to rage even more. What these people could do for the world with all the money they had, it made him sick just thinking about it. He knew for a fact that the woman next door to him went without food every second day so that she could feed her baby and the man below him had to decide between heating and lighting for his house last winter. He bet whoever lived here hadn't known a day's hardship in their lives.

He was looking up now, at a balcony overhanging a perfectly kept courtyard. It looked like the kind of thing you saw in old American movies with its curved metal railings and the long, flowing curtains behind it. Whoever was in there hadn't even closed their doors, he could just climb up and into the room. He wanted to. He really wanted to. Apparently his body was agreeing with him because he felt his legs move, almost without his permission, towards a flowerpot that could be used as a step. Before he managed to pull it into place, however, he heard a voice up above him and startled to see the somewhat angry and confused face of Max Burke staring down.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Max demanded. It wasn't grand and it wasn't posh but it got the message across rather well Jessie thought.

"Urm...Max? Is that you?" He decided deflection was the best defence he had right now.

"What the...Jessie? What the fuck are you doing here?" Max was dressed in a cream coloured jumper and charcoal grey trousers that Jessie was prepared to bet cost more than everything he owned combined.

Jessie had both hated and loved Max from the moment he'd set eyes on him in the first year of high school. Jessie wanted everything about him. He wanted his life and his ability to just be able to do anything he turned his hand to. Max seemed to float through life. He was handsome, rich and so fucking nice about it. It pissed Jessie off. He wasn't one of those guys from the TV who treated everyone like dirt. If he'd been a posh twat, Jessie could've just gone about his day and fancied him from afar whilst hating his guts happily. As it was he somehow felt bad about hating the guy. He'd done nothing wrong; and no matter how much Jessie tried to he couldn't allow himself to feel OK about hating him because of how he made him feel. That was something teenage girls did and he was not that kind of gay guy. He was firmly in the football and occasional trips to the local pub camp when it came to lifestyle choices.

Looking up he decided to go for broke. "Can I come up? I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing here but I think I need to come up there if that's OK?"

"Why?" In retrospect Jessie really should have seen that coming.

"Urm, because I think I have to. I can't explain it. Fuck, I think I'm going a bit mad. Look, forget I was ever here, OK?" Jessie turned and started to head back across the massive lawn. He'd made it a whole ten paces before he collapsed in on himself, curling, protectively around his stomach. He could barely hold back the cry of pain as his insides clenched and burned.

"What the fuck man. Wait, fuck, don't move." Max quickly jumped over the balcony railings and swung deftly onto a tree branch that Jessie would've never believed could have supported his weight.

Max knew the house all too well and had been coming and going from his balcony since the age of 14. He landed soundlessly on the lawn and ran over to the groaning bundle of old clothes that was Jessie Styles, classmate, charmer and all round go-to guy for anything you wanted that might need some special negotiations to get hold of. He checked his pulse; he wasn't quite sure what he was checking for, but he felt the need to check any way.

The young man beneath his fingers groaned and almost curled into his touch. Well, that was unexpected. He looked down and carefully tried to extract his hand. "Please tell me this wasn't some sort of trick just to get me out of my room."

Jessie groaned again but the pain had almost completely gone now. He opened his eyes to see a sea of concerned blue looking down at him. Coughing slightly he answered "Honestly, I have no clue what the fucks going on but apparently I can't go anywhere, so you know about as much as I do at this point." It was hard to look past the face that was blocking most of his vision but he managed it. He saw the room with the balcony once again but, this time, the overwhelming urge to go into it was gone. Switching his focus back to Max's face, it came back. "Oh crap." Jessie let his head fall against the grass and closed his eyes again.

"What?" Max's voice was full of concern.

"Oh fucking hell."

"What?"

"It's you. It's fucking you. That's why I'm here. All this time, all the fucking effort and it's been you all along."

"OK, don't take this the wrong way, but have you eaten any of your special purchases recently?"

Jessie broke out laughing. He couldn't help it. Just hearing Max being so careful and so clearly uncomfortable was enough to bring a tear to his eye. "Fuck it's a good thing you're pretty because, damn, you'd be eaten alive on the streets." An annoyed flush passed across Max's cheeks. It was wonderful to look at this close up. Jessie wanted to reach up and stroke his hand across the flushed skin but he couldn't seem to muster the will to move. "It's OK. I haven't taken anything. Number one rule of being the go-to guy; never partake in consuming your products." He tried to think about how to explain what was happening and still sound sane but couldn't and gave up. "Do you know Princess in the year below us?"

***

It had taken a while but Jessie had managed to persuade Max that he wasn't, in fact, insane. Simply a little odd. He'd also been invited up into Max's bedroom as the guy didn't want to talk on the increasingly damp and cold lawn. Max had had to help him get up as his legs apparently weren't wanting to co-operate but what had been strange was that it wasn't for his lack of trying.

Jessie had tried and failed to sit up. He'd then tried lifting his head and moving his legs but it wasn't until Max had looked at him as if he was reconsidering his acceptance of Jessie's sanity and said, "Jessie, just get up. It's fucking freezing out here, we're going inside" that Jessie's body suddenly decided to work again. He'd felt himself move as if his body was no longer his own and had followed Max without a second's hesitation. He'd easily climbed up the tree and onto the little balcony. Max had held the curtain for him and this time it was Jessie's turn to blush. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever thought he'd be here. Well, OK, maybe in his wildest dreams, but he'd never actually imagined he'd be in Max Burke's actual bedroom. It wasn't anything like he'd assumed it would be. Somehow, in his hormone fuelled late night alone time sessions, he'd pictured it looking something like an American jock's would, all football posters and semi-nude women plastered across the walls.

Instead this was, well, the only word that came to Jessi's mind was, stylish. It had dark oak furniture and rich cream coloured walls. It was minimalistic without looking barren and, whilst everything clearly had its place, the room wasn't regimental in its neatness. It was the perfect reflection of the young man stood next to him; stylish, neat and quietly powerful. He wanted to look around more but his body was once again slowly starting to freeze up. He managed to turn to face Max before his limbs stopped all together and his mouth formed a perfectly petrified 'O'. Max was staring again, but to Jessie's horror he couldn't say or do a thing. Frantically he tried to blink and found that that, at least, worked. He breathed in a stuttering breath and tried to think through the fog of panic that his mind was becoming, how did you spell out SOS in Morse code?

"What's going on Jessie?"

Jessie blinked faster.

"Jessie, talk to me. What the fuck's going on?"

Jessie's mouth unfroze and the words tumbled out before he could stop them. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, I can't move. I'm gonna kill Princess. What the fuck has she done to me? Why can I talk now? Oh gods I couldn't talk! I can't move! What's going on? I have no fucking clue but when I find out I'm gonna kill Princess!"

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down. And keep it down before you wake up the entire house. Why can't you move? What?"

Jessie felt his breaths calm and before he could stop himself his body had quieted his voice. Through the blinding panic his mind had still been calculating and observing. If he hadn't been able to spot patterns and think through insane situations then he wouldn't have made it out alive when any number of his back alley deals had gone south.

He realised he was still talking out loud when he slowly and quietly said, "I'm doing what you tell me to do. I'm only doing what you tell me to do..." Jessie blinked frantically again. He could see the puzzlement on Max's face but the enormity of what he was saying was crashing in around him.

His first thought was that this was insane. His second was an acute realisation of the enormity of the fuck up he'd found himself in. Would he be able to eat? How was he going to get home? What would happen if Max didn't believe him? "You have to believe me! This isn't a joke, I can't do anything."

Max could see the panic in the other man's face. It was quite clear that he believed every word he was saying. As far as Max could tell Jessie appeared to be on one hell of a strange trip, although now that he thought about it he couldn't identify any drugs that would send a man quite this far off the deep end. The question was, how was he going to find out what he'd taken? Jessie'd managed to walk here just fine, after all. It wasn't every day you got a random classmate turning up at your window to ask politely if they could break into your house. Someone or something had fucked with Jessie's head and despite everything Max felt the urge to find out who and how.

"OK, OK," Max said, making sure his voice was as soft and reassuring as possible "You can stop talking now." Instantly Jessie closed his mouth and began to blink madly. "It's fine. Clearly something's happened and we're going to find out what." The blinking slowed and he could have sworn a tear was slowly forming until Jessie breathed deeply through his nose and slammed his eyelids shut. When he opened them again is was with forced determination and, Max noted with a small amount of admiration, that Jessie didn't allow his gaze to falter from his own for a second. "You really are scared aren't you?"

There was no reply.

Pausing Max thought for a second. "You can answer a question if I ask you one." That should work. There was silence from Jessie. Well, he hadn't actually asked him a question after he had told him he could speak, so he supposed that was alright. He sat down on the end of his bed and watched as Jessie's eyes tracked his movement but nothing else about him even twitched. It wasn't normal. Even under hypnosis when people were told to stand still they swayed slightly. Jessie was simply frozen in place. Standing up again he walked over to the blond boy and reached out a hand to grasp his arm.

"This is just an experiment, don't panic." Immediately Jessie's blinking sped up.

Max lifted Jessie's arm and it moved without any resistance. He let go when it was directly in front of him, making Jessie look a bit like a half-hearted zombie. His arm didn't move.

"Can you move your arm out of that position?"

"No..." Jessie sounded awful.

"How about now?" Max moved it against his chest.

"No, I can't move anything. I told you already!"

"And I told you to calm down, panicking isn't going to help."

Jessie blinked angrily but couldn't say a word as what Max had said, he realised, hadn't been a question.

"Are you actually calming down?"

"No! I can't fucking move you wanker! The least you can do is tell me to sit down instead of playing with me like a human fucking doll!" Jessie was clearly trying to shout but his voice couldn't raise above the level of a quiet conversation.

"So I can tell you to quiet down and you can't raise your voice, but if I tell you to calm down you stay mad, interesting." Max mused aloud. He paced as he observed Jessie helplessly glare at him. He still had his hand folded against his chest. He watched closely for the slightest hint of any movement but after a few minutes he hadn't seen anything other than Jessie's increasingly frantic blinking, which he found, he could ignore surprisingly easily. This was something new and very interesting and he wasn't about to give up just because Jessie was, understandably he supposed, upset.

To the outside world Max was a nice guy, he had made sure that everyone, including his family, thought of him as a nice guy. In truth he wasn't evil in the classic sense of the word, but he wasn't like everyone else. He didn't seem to feel the same way they did. He couldn't really understand why they all seemed to care so much about people they hardly knew. He cared about his family and he cared, to a certain extent, about the people he called friends but the rest, well they were just people who seemed to do things for him if he smiled at them in a certain way and said the right words. Growing up it had amazed him how easily people could be made to do things he wanted them to simply by him standing in a certain way or looking like he was feeling sad or happy. He'd learned to read stranger's body-language quickly and by the age of 11 he could tell which adults were having marital problems and which kids were going to be easy to get to do the more boring bits of his homework for him.

By 16 he'd grown into a handsome boy and he'd used that to his advantage. Even teachers overlooked the occasional slip-up when he smiled his apologetic smile and promised he would do better next time. The girls and boys of the school fell over themselves to just be his friend and he'd made sure to choose only the most attractive ones when he felt like having a partner. He'd learned that people equated beauty with power and so he locked in his social status early by quickly making the most beautiful girl in his class his girlfriend. He'd made sure to keep her around for a good six months before moving onto the next one and dumped her in a way that meant she only ever spoke well of him to her friends. "Really," she'd tell them, "he was wonderful. They'd just grown apart." He'd made sure she was still his friend. When he'd chosen his first boyfriend the guy had been so amazed and grateful that he'd kept him around a bit longer than originally planned. The man had had a mouth like a Hoover. But by the end of it even that had grown boring. They were all so simple and easy to win over.

This was different. Jessie's body was quite clearly under his control. By this point there was no denying this was the case and he'd figure out how it had happened later for damned sure; but his mind. He'd never really paid all that much attention to the blond before now. He'd always been around the edges of the circles Max moved in. He was dirt poor but a brilliant entrepreneur and could've been quite the social butterfly if his wardrobe and wallet had allowed for it. He was one of the first kids at school to come out as gay too. That had piqued his interest and Max had considered seeing if he could charm him but something had held him back. He was beginning to realise what it was that his unconscious had seen in the man all those years ago. Jessie had stopped trying to communicate with him through blinks and was watching him just as closely as he was watching Jessie.

"This is interesting isn't it?"

"That's not the word I'd use."

"What word would you use? I'd like to know."

Jessie thought for a second before answering. "Terrifying." He said it with only the slightest quiver to his voice.

"Humm...Any particular reason beyond the obvious?"

This time Jessie looked him right in the eye before saying "Yes."

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