Valedictorian 2013

Chapter 1
Chapters I-IV

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Chapter Description: Introducing you to Edward Bernard and his paranormal grasp of the power of suggestion. Contains female bodily function humiliation and masturbation, male forced homosexuality, and male age regression coupled with female dominance. The first four chapters of a 12-chapter saga.

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This story is dedicated to all high school freshmen. I haven’t been one of you for 12 years, but I’ll never forget how it was. --littletrip

I - The Reality

Edward Bernard looked unremarkable as he walked onstage to accept his award as valedictorian of the graduating Willowbrook High School Class of 2013. Not undignified, not self-satisfied, just... unremarkable. In fact, he’d spent his high school career looking unremarkable-- glancing at the floor, rarely speaking, and completing adolescence by topping out at 5’6” and 130 pounds.

What made Eddie remarkable was inside of him: a talent he’d had all his life. He had the remarkable command of the power of suggestion. It mystified physicians and stumped psychologists. But when Eddie asked for something, he got it. When he made a false declaration, it became the truth.

This would have made him dangerous if he were a bad person. But no -- “Nice Guy” Eddie was raised properly and in a loving home. He used his powers only for good. When his childhood friend’s bicycle was stolen, Eddie confronted the thief and calmly explained that the thief wanted to return the bicycle immediately. The thief was taken aback... but, 10 minutes later, Eddie’s friend had his bike returned.

When Eddie fell out of a tree at age nine and broke his arm, he said “My arm is not broken,” then used that arm to lift himself back to his feet. And when an uncle of his began touching him inappropriately, he gave his uncle a newfound preference for age-appropriate adults to replace his old one for children.

Though born in 1995, Eddie thrived on reruns of “The X-Files,” and he likened his skills to a “monster of the week” nicknamed “Pusher” Modell. But whereas Modell used his psychic inclinations to steal and kill, Eddie wanted no part of that.

What Eddie absolutely wanted was to have fun at his high school graduation. And, ultimately, that’s exactly what he got.

“Good evening, students,” Eddie announced to the assembled crowd of 200-some graduating seniors. Mutters and “whatevers” filled the air in return. “You don’t know a lot about me. Well, I mean, you know some things, like how fun I am to pants, or to push to the floor, or to trip, or just for a good, old-fashioned punching.” Audible snickers from the jocks on that one. “You probably also know that I’m a lot of fun to turn down for a date, or gossip about, or play humiliating pranks on.” The popular girls enjoyed the line with a swarm of giggles. “But I’m a lot of fun in other ways, too, as you’re about to see.

“Now, I don’t normally prepare speeches, but you better believe I prepared this one. There will be no violence tonight.” Eddie’s assertion was not demonstrably true at the moment, but it was true nonetheless. “Nor will anyone be leaving this room until my speech -- nay, presentation -- is finished.” The assembled students exchanged confused looks at this. What kind of weirdo is this valedictorian? “Unless, of course, if there’s a fire. But there will be no fires.” And truly, no fires occurred in the auditorium that night.

Like a stand-up comedian starting to hit his groove, Edward Bernard detached the microphone from its stand and began walking around the stage with a wry smile on his face.

“Would Carla Stiles please come up onstage? Carla, come onstage. Everybody give Carla a big round of applause.”

And everybody did.

II - The Date

Carla Stiles stood nervously at the center of the stage as Eddie walked casually around her.

“Now,” Eddie began, “you all know Carla. Beautiful, beautiful girl. Smart, too. Or maybe I’m confusing smart with clever. She certainly was clever with the whole Senior Prom debacle, wasn’t she?”

Laughter from the audience.

“She very cleverly accepted my request to accompany me to the prom, after I’d spent weeks mustering up the courage, and after she’d already accepted the request of a one Greg Denton, star quarterback, four years running! Well done, Greg. Anyway, it was a clever setup, and the punchline when I showed up at the prom in a rented tuxedo and carrying carnations, only to find Carla and Greg furiously making out by the punchbowls... can’t call that anything but clever. I learned a lot about myself last night.

“I also learned a lot about Carla. Did you know, for example, that her highest aspiration, the biggest, most important goal in her life, has always been to stand onstage in front of her graduating class and strip down to her bra and panties?”

Carla looked shocked, horrified. Not at the words themselves, but how true they were. And then, she was following through on her lifelong goal. Off came the halter top, revealing two beautiful breasts in an elaborate lace bra. She kicked of her shoes and tore off her socks. And down came the skirt, joining the halter top in a pile on the floor. Carla couldn’t seem to strip fast enough for her liking. When it was done, her clothes were on the floor, and she stood before the shocked and titillated audience in her bra and white panties.

“I know, right?” Eddie smirked. “And that’s not even the half of it. It’s a perfect body, right? Look at those tits. Those soft, feminine legs. Of course, not everything’s perfect on the inside, it must be said. Not character-wise or anything like that. What I mean is, despite her petite figure, her bladder is loaded. Ready to burst. And she’s got all the bladder control of a four-year old.”

Immediately, Carla moaned in pain and doubled over slightly. She couldn’t recall a moment in her life she had to run to the bathroom so desperately. But she couldn’t leave her position on the stage. All she could do was close her eyes and bite her lip and cram her hands between her legs and struggle to bear the pain.

The pain didn’t last long. Horrified, but relieved on another level, Carla Stiles felt her hands start to grow warm. There were only a few shy squirts of urine dampening her perfectly-white panties before the dam completely broke. She pissed herself with a need and a ferocity that caused some of the pee to spray through her fingers. Then it was running down her long, soft legs in visible yellow rivers, puddling on the ground at her feet. It seemed like an hour before the 30-second nightmare was over for her.

The laughter in the audience was scattered and weak. Some felt pity.

“Don’t feel bad for her,” Eddie advised the audience, and, suddenly, they didn’t. “This is actually a good thing for Carla. Because another thing I learned about her is that nothing -- nothing at all in the world -- turns her on more than pissing her pants. Practically even before the last few drops of piss are squeezed out, she’s got her hands down those wet pants, and she’s masturbating. Wildly.”

And she was. The shocked audience sat in silence as they watched the humiliated but very, very horny Carla Stiles shove her hands down her urine-soaked panties and work her cunt with abandon. She moaned, she started to sweat, to squeal as she stood in a puddle of her own piss and masturbated. Deep down, Carla knew that she was working towards the greatest orgasm of her life.

But it had to be perfect. Just right. She pulled one hand out of her underwear, leaving the other one working at her pussy, and used her free, dampened hand to unsnap her bra and let it fall to the floor. The crowd gasped as Carla’s perfect breasts sprang free and she began rubbing them, squeezing her nipples. Plenty of boys in the audience were enjoying themselves, yet still trying to hide the stains in their jeans as they leaked pre-cum into them.

“Well, folks, it looks like Carla’s about ready to hit her peak. But in order to reach orgasm, she can’t be looking at anybody. In fact, she has to look at a curtain. A curtain, of all things!”

Carla wanted to cum so badly that she instantly did a 180, nearly slipping in her urine, and facing the curtain at the back of the auditorium. Many in the audience booed as they could no longer see her tits-- just her naked back, and the back of her soaked, white panties.

“Worst of all,” Eddie continued, “when she has an orgasm, she actually shits herself!”

A moan of ultimate pleasure erupted from Carla’s throat as she came into her hand. The moan turned into a wail of delight-- a whorish, shrieking wail. Down below, her white panties started to turn brown as she pushed log after log of shit into them. She was still cumming, and her wet underpants started to droop as she filled them with the biggest dump she’d ever taken in her life.

The laughter, this time, was uproarious, and when Carla started to come down from her orgasm, they burned her ears like fire. Her sexual need satisfied, the warm wetness around her cunt was just uncomfortable. And the humiliating, sticky load pressed against her perfect ass seemed as if her worst nightmare had come true.

The laughter of her peers became knives. Carla started to cry.

“Time’s up, Carla,” Edward spat at her. “Let someone else have the stage.”

Crying, sniffling, the nearly-naked Carla Stiles, her only clothing being her shit-packed panties, awkwardly toddled off the stage. Out of consideration for her classmates, she moved her folding chair to a far corner of the auditorium and sat down. The sensation was intolerable. Even more intolerable was the knowledge that, the next time she had a full bladder, its contents would immediately end up in her panties. And so would her hands.

III - The Quarterback

“Next up... well, how about Carla’s boyfriend?” The look on Greg Denton’s face was that of unadulterated terror. “Star Quarterback himself, Greg Denton... come on down!”

Greg took his place at center-stage... a place he often sought in the past. Not this time.

“Greg’s a great athlete,” Eddie said, “leading us to win more games than any four consecutive years in Willowbrook’s history. Jesus, man, that’s awesome.

“But Greg’s not such a great guy. Sure, he’s given me a few punches here and there, knocked a pile of textbooks out of my hands... lame high school stuff. It’s all good. But is this guy a homophobic asshole or is this guy a homophobic asshole? If I had a nickel for every time Greg Denton has called me a ?fuckin’ faggot’ I wouldn’t be on this stage, I’d be in the Bahamas.

“Now, I’m not gay. I’m bisexual, actually, but, let’s face it: In high school, nobody splits hairs. Greg, on the other hand... totally straight. Obviously, I mean, as evidenced by his fabled relationship with Carla the Panty-Pisser. So, today, I’m officially changing my interpretation of ?fuckin’ faggot’ to ?I wish you were a fuckin’ faggot, because, even though I’m straight, I really, really want to suck your cock.’ I think it’s a fair extrapolation, don’t you?

“So,” Eddie continued, “Greg, I forgive you. I forgive you for really, really wanting to suck my cock.”

In seconds, star quarterback Greg Denton was on his knees in front of short and wiry Edward Bernard, fumbling desperately with Eddie’s belt buckle. Eddie had the foresight to stand with the side of his own body to the audience so the entire senior class would bear witness to the spectacle.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Eddie condescended as Greg animalistically struggled with the valedictorian’s blue jeans, “let me.”

Eddie undid his belt, unzipped his jeans, and let them fall to his ankles. His stiffening-but-not-quite-erect cock was visible poking through the fly of his boxers, which quickly accompanied the jeans at Eddie’s feet. And as soon as Eddie’s penis was accessible, homophobic athlete Greg Denton had his mouth around it.

“I do want it,” Greg would gasp breathlessly between licks and sucks. “I do, Eddie.”

“I know you do,” Eddie breathed. His cock was fully erect and slathered in Greg’s saliva. “This is turning you on as much as it’s turning me on.”

Greg found this, too, to be true, as he tried to balance his earnest, thorough blowjob with the knowledge that his own cock was stirring in his jeans. Greg pushed his tongue against the base of Eddie’s penis and dragged it slowly along the length of the five-inch organ, eagerly lapping up the bead of pre-cum waiting at the end of it. The quarterback was having some pre-cumming issues of his own, leaking into his jockeys as his penis became fully erect, painfully confined by his blue jeans.

Eddie’s eyes rolled back into his head a bit as Greg took each of Eddie’s testicles into his mouth, one at a time, teasing them gently with his tongue and lips. Eddie looked down at the eager and obviously horny cocksucker at his feet. “Go ahead,” he said. “I know you want to.”

Never removing his mouth from Eddie’s cock, Greg unzipped his blue jeans and pulled his rock-hard tool from the fly of his jockey shorts. The auditorium erupted in applause as the athlete began masturbating, using his own slick pre-cum as a lube.

Eddie grinned with ecstasy as Greg slid his mouth up and down, up and down the boy’s shaft. “I hope you’re close,” Eddie said, “because I am, and you’re getting it on the face.”

As soon as Eddie felt his balls heat up, as soon as he knew he’d reached the point of no return, he pulled back from Greg, his pulsing cock slipping free. Eddie put his right hand around his saliva-slick cock and shot jet after jet of hot, salty cum onto the football player’s face. He’d saved up for a week just for that moment, and he had plenty to give. Strings and globs of white liquid coated Greg’s face, dripping from his forehead, his cheek, his chin.

And as soon as Greg felt the first glob of semen strike his face, his own cock exploded, sending streamers of cum splattering onto the floor of the stage. The look on Greg Denton’s otherwise exhausted face was one indicating that he had just enjoyed the greatest experience of his life. Another round of applause for the performance came from the enraptured class.

“You suck a mean cock, Greg, for a homophobe.”

“T-thank you,” the humiliated quarterback replied.

“Now swallow.”

Greg looked confused. “You just gave me a facial.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t mean you don’t want to swallow, because you do. You do want to swallow. So?”

And, with those words, Greg brought his hands to his face and began scooping the rivulets of Eddie’s cum along his fingers and into his palm. He shoved his fingers into his mouth. He licked, he sucked, he savored as the semen slid down his throat. He cleaned his face with vigor, eating small pools of Eddie’s cum out of the palm of his hand. Pretty soon, all his face was covered in was sweat.

“All of it,” Eddie said in frustration, pointing to the lines of cum Greg himself had shot across the floor of the stage.

The humiliated 18-year-old crawled on his hands and knees to the mess he had made and began licking his own cum off the floor.

“You know something, Greg?” asked Eddie, rezipping his blue jeans and clasping his belt back together. “You’re truly a gifted, gifted cocksucker. That’s the best I’ve ever gotten. I mean that.”

Greg mumbled incoherently as he cleaned the floor with his tongue.

“I don’t think the LGBT world should be deprived of your talent. I think you’re honestly, genuinely, 100% gay.”

When the floor was clean, Greg sat on his ass, his head between his knees, not wanting to hear another word. He had no idea how to tell his family that he was homosexual.

“And to you gay boys in the audience -- and I know there are a few of you, and I know you’re lots of fun! -- maybe you’ll meet up with Greg behind the school after the ceremony. Take out your birthday candles; he’ll blow ?em out. Satisfaction guaranteed.”

Red-faced with shame, the taste of cum hanging heavily in his mouth, Greg Denton returned to his seat in the audience. He never had a sex with another woman for the rest of his life.

IV - The Saboteurs: Part I

Edward Bernard continued to address the audience. “Greg was up here because he gives great blowjobs. I’m up here because I get good grades. But, I must confess, that wasn’t always the case. I failed the earth science midterm my sophomore year.

“It was through no fault of my own, really. A two-person team -- a guy and his girlfriend -- thought it’d be amusing to screw with my head, and my GPA. Daniel Shore, Elizabeth Strand... I am happy to invite you both to join me onstage!”

Daniel and his Elizabeth stood dry-mouthed on the auditorium stage. They were already concerned. But this time, Eddie had brought three folding chairs onto the stage and arranged them side-by-side, each one directly adjacent to the other and all of them facing the audience. This sudden change in the valedictorian’s MO did nothing to assuage the couple’s fears.

“I’m not gonna bore you all with the specifics of how they managed to pull it off,” Eddie addressed the audience. “I’m not sure I have all the details straight in my head myself. Suffice it to say, through a series of coordinated, petty stunts like stealing my textbooks, flushing my study guides down the toilet, and, ultimately, switching my submitted midterm with one deliberately engineered to get virtually every answer dreadfully wrong -- maps illustrating differences in elevation are not ?potographical’ -- I got the only F of my high school career. It took another couple years of overwork just to earn the opportunity to have the fun I’m having right now.”

Eddie turned to the nervous couple. “Why steal the textbooks and flush the notes if your endgame was to switch the midterm anyway? Not too bright, are we? Ah, the hell with it.

“Anyway, let’s get to the fun. I know the relationship between you two hasn’t always been a Hallmark movie. I know there’s been a power struggle. I know that there’s a constant back-and-forth over who wears the pants in your relationship. In return for your favor to me in teaching me what getting an undeserved F feels like, I’m going to do you both a favor and decide, once and for all, who wears the pants.

“It’s Liz. Dan, you’ll want to take yours off.”

Dan unzipped his khakis, dropped them to the floor, and kicked them away, leaving him in only a polo shirt and his Fruit of the Looms.

Eddie paused. And paused. “...Did I stutter?”

Dan’s heart sank, but it just made so much sense. So he took off his briefs, tossed them aside as well, and stood in front of the entire graduating senior class wearing nothing but a shirt. To some in the front row it seemed like Dan’s penis shrank slightly into itself due to shame and terror.

Eddie brought a zipped canvas gym bag over to Liz and dropped it in front of her. “These are for you. Consider them gifts, as you will absolutely need them. I promise. But in order for me to give them to you, you have to prove to me that you can be commanding enough in this relationship, to take control and restore order.

“You know how Dan has sometimes made you feel in the past. Sex on demand. Spreading gossip. Not really listening. He doesn’t do much listening, does he, Liz?”

Eddie didn’t have to use his power to convince Liz of this -- Liz had known it for years. “No, he doesn’t do much listening.”

“He’s been a child, and too often you’ve found yourself the mother.”

Liz nodded in agreement. “Yes.”

“Liz, you want to sit on the center of those three folding chairs. You want to spread your boyfriend, ass up, across your lap. You want to spank him. You want to spank him until you’re satisfied there are going to be serious changes in your relationship.

“Dan, you want to be across that lap, just as I’ve described.”

Thirty seconds of awkward positioning and repositioning later, Dan was spread across his girlfriend’s lap, his polo shirt hiked up to his chest, his ass sticking up and waiting for the punishment Liz was only too eager to deliver.

Eddie looked on, high as ever. And fully intent on improving the experiment with each passing second.

The hand came down.

“OWW!” Dan shrieked as Liz’s palm connected with his ass. “What the fuck, babe?”

“Dan,” Eddie intoned in the low voice of a psychiatrist, “you do not want to swear.”

The hand came down. Harder than the last time.

“That really hurts, sweety. C’mon, please. Please stop.”

“Dan,” said Eddie, “It hurts a lot more than you think. You almost want to cry.”

The hand came down. SMACK.

The half-naked Dan squirmed impotently in his girlfriends lap. He felt tears start to well up in his eyes. “Please...” he begged.

“Dan, even though you’re 18, you want to cry. So you do.”

SMACK.

Dan, his ass already beet red from the impact of his girlfriend’s swats, burst into tears. They ran freely down his cheeks and splattered lightly on the stage floor. Not only that-- he was sobbing. Sobbing too hard to protest.

“Dan, even though you’re 18, you actually feel like a four-year old. You want this to stop. More than anything.”

SMACK.

Dan started howling in between sobs. “Pwease... pweeeease ?top!! I know I been naughty. I *sob* know I’ve been a bad widdle boy. Pwease stop Momm--Liz!! I won’t be naughty no morrre!”

“Danny, the reason you feel like a four-year-old is because you are a four-year-old.” Eddie grinned. And, in an instant’s time, with a pop of visible light, the 18-year-old Dan in Liz’s lap had become Danny, exactly as he was at age four. Tiny, toddler-like-frame, fine blond hair, totally bald body. Only his 18-year-old mind and memories remained intact. “And Liz is your Mommy, and you will address her as such.”

SMACK.

Danny squirmed and wailed like an infant, a totally helpless howl of humiliation, and the newfound horror that he really was just a little kid again, and he’d have to redo 14 whole years of life, bored out of his 18-year-old mind. And his new mother was the girlfriend with whom he was so intimate... and took for granted one too many times.

“Danny... scratch that,” Eddie said, unable to control a smile. The audience of graduating seniors were held in rapt attention, as if they were watching a movie. “You’re not four years old. You’re one year old. It’s funnier that way.”

An instant, a pop of light, and Danny was a baby again. The tiny, weak body of an infant, unable to control even the simplest of bodily function, serving as the new vehicle for Dan’s 18-year-old mind, memories -- and regrets -- intact.

“You can stop now, Liz,” Eddie instructed. “You shouldn’t spank a baby. And you’ll want to get him off that lap of yours pretty quickly."

NEXT:

V - The Saboteurs: Part II

VI - The Contenders: Part I

VII - The Contenders: Part II

VIII - The Ex

Thanks for reading. -lt

 

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