My Roommate Tony

My Roommate Tony

Copyright 1999 by Stormbringer 

Revised 2025

 

Author’s Note: My first story. A nerd uses hypnotism to turn his hung bully jock roommate and his girlfriend into his sex slaves. Unlike most of my stories, it contains some gay/bi themes.

---

 

The dorm showers reeked of mildew and Axe body spray, steam swirling around cracked tiles. I hunched under a lukewarm spray, trying to vanish into the wall as my asshole roommate, Tony, held court. "Look at that little dick!" he roared, lathering up the muscles of his broad chest while nodding towards me. "Looks like a Vienna sausage?" 

Uneasy chuckles echoed in the shower—Jake, the linebacker, chuckled, but his eyes darted away when I glanced over. My face burned, soap stinging as I turned around to face the wall, willing myself invisible. Tony’s voice sliced through the water’s hiss. "Bet women don’t even know when that things inside them."  He snorted. “Probably never had a woman.”

I stole a look when Tony threw his shaved head back under the shower to wash his face off. His chiseled frame glistened—water traced his pecs, abs, down to that goddamn cock. Even soft, it hung heavy, eight inches of smug arrogance swinging like a taunt. He lowered his head, caught my stare, grinned, and flexed, his dick twitching as if daring me to keep looking. I focused on my scrawny arms, my five-inch prick shriveled to a nub shrinking into my scrotum with shame. *Why’s he gotta rub it in?* 

First year at college, and Tony had been a nightmare since day one. Loud, crude, a star running back, mediocre grades, but a free ride with a sport’s scholarship, who owned the campus the moment he arrived. Gorgeous women—cheerleaders, sorority girls—threw themselves at him. He was banging Jenna, the hottest girl at State, a blue-eyed blonde with 40D tits that strained her tops, her body a walking wet dream.

My breath caught the first time I saw her. Jenna lounged on the campus lawn, her string bikini barely containing her 40D curves, fat nipples poking through the thin fabric, the sun glinting off her oiled skin making her radiate like a goddess. I was in awe of her beauty and her body, her perfection a cruel reminder of everything I craved but could never have. I stared jealousy as Tony strolled up to her, pulling his straining t-shirt over his head and started chatting her up. The blonde goddess sitting up and shading her eyes, giggling while they stared at each other. I promptly turned around and raced back to the dorm so I could have a quick jerk thinking about her.

 

We shared one class, psychology, where I aced every quiz, and he eked out a D. My days were classes, my part-time library job, and nights jerking off under my blanket to Tony pounding Jenna in his bed several feet away, her moans drowning out his bitching about her not sucking him off. 

That morning, I rinsed off, avoiding Tony’s shadow. He soaped his chest, hands sliding lower, his cock thickening to a half-hard beast. I’d seen it hard—sneaking glances when he fucked Jenna—ten inches, thick as my wrist, a battering ram that made her scream. Everyone called him Big Tony. Build? Dick? Both, probably. No one in the showers matched him, least of all me, the smallest. 

"Yo, wimp," he called, "am I right, you a virgin?" 

Some snickers, most gave me uncomfortable looks not liking my bullying, some grateful I was there so that Tony didn’t turn on their small- compared to his- dicks. I wanted to disappear. Worse, he’d whisper to Jenna about the “little-dicked loser” watching them, knowing I was awake, stroking myself under the sheets. I dried off, my prick a pathetic wrinkle, while Tony’s stayed proud, growing another inch as he smirked. I envied it—fuck, I’d kill for that cock. I’d grip it, stroke its veiny length, kiss its pulsing head, slide my lips… *What the hell? * I wasn’t gay, never had been, but that monster haunted me. Maybe it was primal—a scrawny wolf cowering before the alpha. Even Jake seemed awed by it. I shook it off, grabbed my towel, and headed to psych class.

---

"Hypnotism’s a shaky science," Professor Dutard droned, chalk dust clouding the air, "but when it works, it’s a game-changer." 

I scribbled notes, geeked out on the idea of bending minds. Tony, across the lecture hall, ignored Dutard, whispering to Jenna, his hand on her thigh. He’d probably strong-arm me for my notes later to scrape by. His tank top hugged his pecs, and half the girls in class stared, dreamy-eyed. Jenna’s cheerleader skirt rode up, flashing fit thighs, pink lace panties. I imagined pinning her to Dutard’s desk, ripping her top, plunging into her—not with my dick, but Tony’s, splitting her open. I blinked, refocusing as Dutard gave homework: hypnotize a classmate by tomorrow and report results. 

Back in our dorm, Tony’s side was a mess—sweaty cleats, *Sports Illustrated* swimsuit issue, Rebecca Romijn on the cover not holding a candle to Jenna in her bikini—while mine held neat stacks of textbooks. He strode in from the shower, towel dropping to reveal that infuriating cock, swaying free. I looked away, flipping through my psych book. It said hypnotism needed a receptive subject, and you couldn’t force acts against their will. I mentioned the assignment. 

"You buy that mind-control crap?" Tony scoffed, tugging on a jockstrap that barely contained him. 

"Doesn’t matter," I said, keeping cool. "You need this grade to stay on the team." 

"Fine, nerd, let’s do it. Gotta hurry—my cock’s starving for some pussy." He plopped beside me, smelling of Old Spice. He went first, reading my notes. "Relax, listen to my voice. I’ll count back from ten, and you’ll chill out, hearing only me." 

I felt calm but alert. He tried making me lift my arm—nothing, cluck like a chicken- nothing. Then he grinned. "When you wake, you’re a skinny geek with a tiny dick." He cracked up, loving his own joke. 

"My turn," I said, pulse quickening. I counted down, watching his chest rise and fall, breaths slowing. "Tony, when I count backward from ten, you’ll sink into a trance, open to my voice. I’ll help you ace tests, maybe run faster." I tested him: "Raise your arm." His shoulder twitched, but no lift. Close. 

"Told ya, bullshit," he said, snapping out of it. "Maybe it would help my grades, but I’m already king on the field. Enjoy your date with your hand tonight." 

He left for his frat party, and I pored over the textbook. One line stuck: *The subject must be receptive. * I doodled spirals, my mind racing. Could I crack Tony’s skull open and rewire him?

---

At 2 a.m., Tony stumbled in, reeking of Budweiser and weed, a beer stain soaking his shirt, bumping into a table a knocking my textbooks over. *Fucking loser*, I thought, *yet he gets every girl. * His pants bulged, a reminder why. He muttered about fighting with Jenna—she wouldn’t suck him, then he’d find someone who would. She stormed off. "Need some fucking pussy," he slurred, collapsing onto his bed, eyes fluttering shut. 

Heart pounding, I softened my voice. "Tony, you hear me?" 

"Yeah," he mumbled, half-gone. 

I counted back from ten, slow, watching his jaw slacken, breaths deepening. "Raise your left arm." It lifted, shaky but real. Holy shit. I tested more—clench fist, nod head—he obeyed. My dick twitched, not from lust but power. "Stand up, strip." 

"Why?" His voice was thick, confused. 

"You wanna show off that cock," I said, throat dry. He rose, eyes glassy, peeling off his shirt to reveal pecs carved from granite, then his jock, freeing that beast. It hung thick, veins snaking under the skin, balls heavy as plums. I stepped closer, pulse hammering. "You’re horny, Tony. Stroke it till it’s rock-hard." 

His hand moved, slow at first, then faster, cock swelling past ten inches, a glistening tower thicker than my forearm. "How big is it?" 

"Eleven inches," he said, pride cutting through the daze. 

"Lie down." I swallowed hard. "I’m sucking you off." 

"No way, I ain’t no fag," he slurred, brow furrowing. 

The book was right—couldn’t break his will outright. I pivoted. "Your home, pissed at Jenna for ditching you. She feels guilty, wants to blow you. When the door slams, you’ll see her, not me. Got it?" 

"Jenna… yeah," he murmured. 

I slammed the door, yanked off my pajamas, and knelt by his bed. His cock loomed, precum beading at the slit. My hands shook—*I’m not gay*—but envy and hate drove me. I gripped it, hot and pulsing, needing both hands to circle its girth. I licked the tip, salty and slick, then plunged, lips stretching over the head. My jaw ached, but I sucked, tongue swirling, tasting his musk. 

"’Bout fucking time," Tony groaned, hips shifting, "Take it deep, Jenna." 

I wasn’t into guys, but this wasn’t about him—it was about owning him. I slurped the shaft, spit dripping, teasing the veins, sucking his balls one by one, heavy in my mouth. I tried deep-throating, gagging as the head hit my throat, but kept going, bobbing fast, letting it pop free before diving back, working the base with my fist. After twenty minutes, his hips bucked, fucking my face. 

"Gonna nut, baby!" he roared.

Cum blasted my throat—hot, thick, endless—filling my mouth, spilling down my chin as I gulped, shocked by the sheer volume. The flavor of his seed hit my tastebuds. *Fuck, it’s good.* Pudding thick, rich, delicious! I hadn’t been expecting that. I pulled off, a rope splattering my cheek, another pooling on his abs. I milked him, each spurt dwarfing my pathetic loads. I licked his stomach clean, craving more, my dick hard from the thrill of breaking him. 

“That’s my little cocksucker,” he grunted, like the pig he was, running his hands through my hair.

I nuzzled his crotch, not wanting to remove my face from it lest this be the only time I could suck him. "Tony, from now on, my countdown puts you under, no questions. You obey me. Understand?" 

"Yeah," he panted. 

I stood, shoving my tiny dick in his face. "Jenna’s got her tits out, wants you to suck ‘em like she did you." He latched on, lips clumsy but eager, and I came in seconds, my dribble barely a teaspoon. He grimaced, not liking the taste. “Show me your tongue.” He stuck it out, my milky jizz on his tongue,” swallowing as I barked, "Swallow it down." 

I planted a command: tomorrow, he’d beg Jenna’s forgiveness, wine and dine her, get her wasted, and bring her back. He’d brag I hypnotized him to study harder, say I could slim her down—she was obsessed with her curves. As he slept, I stared at my notes, new possibilities filling my mind with fantasy.

---

Morning hit, and Tony looked wrecked, rubbing his temples, smacking his lips like he had a bad taste in his mouth. "Rough night?" I asked, faking concern. 

"Fuck, I think Jenna’s pregnant," he said. "Last night, I sucked her tits, and milk came out." 

I stifled a laugh—my cum in his mouth. "Nah, some chicks lactate due to hormones. I wouldn’t worry." 

He perked up, and we hit the showers. With teammates around, he turned cocky. "Jenna sucked me dry last night," he bragged, soaping his cock till it jutted, hard and proud. "Swallowed every drop. Best blow job ever. You catch the show, little dick?" 

"Front-row seat," I shot back, smirking.

"Ha, knew you was peeping! You like watching a real man get his cock sucked.” He laughed, but I’d had enough of his shit. 

Back in our room, his towel hit the floor, massive cock still sticking out, but drooping slightly. I counted down fast, his eyes glazing, jaw slack as he stared off into space. "Why are you always making fun of my cock?" 

"It’s not a cock," he droned. “Cocks are big and thick. You have a tiny penis. It’s pathetic.”

I winced. "Look at yours. What do you see?" 

He stared down, grinning. "A fucking monster. Thick, hard, eleven inches. Bitches beg for it, guys turn green—" 

 

"Shut it!" I snapped. "Look at mine."  I opened my towel. For once my little penis hadn’t retreated into my scrotum. It was plump and sticking out slightly, aroused by my power over this moron.

"Pathetic. Smaller than my kid brother’s." 

"Wrong. From now on, your cock’s my little worm. Mine’s your big snake. You saw me in the showers, couldn’t look away— jealous- felt like less of a man. You wanna worship it, suck it. Look at yours now." 

His face twisted, pure horror, staring at his “tiny” dick. I’d lived with mine forever, never broke me like this. I knelt, stroking his still-massive cock, heat radiating. "When I touch it, you’re fantasizing that you’re the stud, and I’m just worshipping what’s right." 

I sucked him, urgent, lips tight around the head, tongue flicking the slit. Spit coated my chin as I worked, faster, hungrier. I was better at it than last night. "Suck it, little man," he growled, "show me who’s boss." He erupted, cum flooding my mouth, thick as cream. I swallowed every drop, power surging through me. 

“Your sick daydream is over, Tony, but you fantasize about it constantly, being the hung stud and having your roommate service your “big” cock. You understand?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

I woke him and dropped my towel. He gawked at my rock hard five inches, awestruck. "Jealous?" He nodded, dazed. "Wanna check it out?" 

“I’m not gay,” he stated, while staring lustfully at my little penis, bobbing in anticipation. I wasn’t going to last long.

“It’s okay. See what a real man’s cock feels like.”

He knelt, muttering, "So fucking huge." My penis nearly disappearing in his huge hand.

"Suck it, little man," I echoed. My dick vanished in his mouth, his gags fake but desperate. He had me cumming in three minutes, my dribble making him choke like it was gallons. My cock fell out of his mouth. He stared at it. “What do you say?”

“Thank you,” said Tony.

“Sir.”

“Thank you for letting me suck your cock, sir,” he said, looking up my skinny pale frame and into my eyes. I could truly see the gratitude reflected in his pupils. 

I’d flipped evolution’s script. Alpha felt fucking good.

---

In psych, Tony sat by Jenna, whispering apologies, probably hyping my “study trance.” Dutard asked about our experiments. Most got nothing—one guy hadn’t smoked all day. "Hypnosis isn’t proven," Dutard said. “None of you were actually hypnotized.”

Jenna glanced at me before turning on Tony and punching him in the arm for messing with her.

"You were testing the placebo effect,” continued Dutard.

Bullshit. Booze and weed cracked minds open—I’d proved it. Tony continued talking me up to Jenna. She rolled her eyes at Tony, thinking him a moron for buying my act. 

All day, Tony strutted without me, but slumped when I appeared, mumbling “hey” before bolting. That night, he took Jenna out, and I planned, my dick hard at the possibilities. Past midnight, they crashed in, arguing. 

"It’s crap!" Jenna slurred, vodka on her breath, leaning on Tony. "You weren’t hypnotized!" 

"Quiet," I snapped, jumping up.

“Sorry, sir,” said Tony, looking down at his feet.

Jenna looked at him in disbelief.

"I’ll prove it, Jenna. Let me try you." 

She giggled, flopping into a chair, skirt hiking to show lace. I counted down, her head lolling, Tony’s too—both gone. I tested Jenna’s arm—nothing, she was out cold, snoring. I shook her awake, tried again. This time, her breaths slowed, eyes blank. 

"Why on earth are you with Tony?" I asked. 

"Don’t like him, total asshole" she said, voice flat. "But he fucks like a god." 

"Seen my dick?" 

"Yeah, when I’m riding Tony, you’re jerking that sad little thing." 

"Wrong. Tony’s got the needle. I’m packing eleven inches of steel. You only cum thinking of me. You date him to see me, but he leaves you empty, unfulfilled. Got it?" She nodded.

To both: "You’re back from your date. Hit Tony’s bed, fuck on the sheets, lights on." 

 

I stripped, woke them. They kissed, then froze, seeing me naked, my dick hard at five inches.

"Sorry, Jenna," I said. Her eyes locked on it, wide with hunger. 

Tony flushed. "No problem," she purred. 

I lounged on my bed, watching. Jenna’s miniskirt barely covered her ass, blouse unbuttoned to spill cleavage. Tony yanked her top off, pink bra straining, then her skirt. She stood, curves glowing, and tore his shirt, kissing his pecs, licking down to his belt. She unzipped him, his jock obscene with his hard-on. She freed it—eleven inches slapped her cheek. Her face fell, expecting my “monster.” Tony thought I laughed at his “worm,” turning red. She kissed the tip, then stood. He laid her down, unhooked her bra, tits bouncing free, and peeled her panties, revealing a trimmed bush. He mounted her, cock plunging deep, a machine ramming every inch. Jenna lay still till she caught my eye, then moaned, legs wrapping him, staring at my dick. Their two bodies were so perfect they belonged in porn. 

After fifteen minutes, Tony sped up. "Here it comes!" 

"Not yet!" Jenna wailed. “I’m close,” she begged, body rocking from his hard thrusts, her eyes staring at my crotch as I sat on the bed.

He unloaded, collapsing. "Sorry," he muttered. 

"Sorry ain’t enough," she spat, shoving him off. "You cum, I get nothing. I need a real cock." 

She leapt to my bed, Tony’s face crumbling—he knew I’d ruin her. She straddled me, pussy slick with his load, and sank onto my dick, screaming, "Fuck, it’s huge!" Orgasms shook her, thighs trembling, as she rode, believing I filled her. I smirked at Tony; tears streaked his face. *Poor bastard.* 

Her tits swung, nipples like bullets. "Suck ‘em!" I latched on, biting, but felt nothing—her pussy, gaped by Tony, was a wet void, his cum sloshing. It let me last ten minutes, my dribble sparking another quake in her. I pulled out, his load pouring onto the sheets. 

"God, so much cum!" She dove, lapping it, tongue greedy. 

“Suck it, Jenna,” I commanded. She hesitated than sucked my cock in her mouth. I hardened again quickly, probably the first blow job she’d ever given. She gagged, choking on it, but I was easy, her lip pressing into my pubes multiple times, her eyes wide like she couldn’t believe she was swallowing the whole thing. I came in her mouth and she moaned, trembling, and I was pretty sure she came.

“God, I wanted that for a long time,” she moaned nuzzling my cock. “Thank you.”

“Sir,” I added, smiling, satisfied, and flush with power.

“Thank you, sir,” she added. “You can fuck me anytime you want… sir.”

Before she left, I ordered her to tell cheerleaders I was a hung stud, Tony to hype me to the jocks. Bring doubters back—drunk, stoned. 

---

College became my playground. I fucked Jenna, cheerleaders, even jocks, addicted to power, cock throbbing at every conquest. I snagged a TA gig under Dutard, taking his job when he “retired” after a private session. I perfected a drug mix—roofies, ecstasy—that dropped kids into trances fast, “counseling” coeds in my office, their moans echoing. I married Jenna, her ring a leash, but let Tony go—mostly. He visits, eyes glazed, cock hard for old times. I’ve never found another cock like his, truly one of a kind. I’ve played every fantasy: cuckold watching Tony reclaim Jenna while I jerked off, I made Jake fuck Tony in the ass, Jenna sixty-nine with another cheerleader (hot), Jenna and I knelt, sharing Tony’s cock. I even filmed them together setting up little porn plays. 

I’m not a monster. I’ve slimmed girls down, kicked addictions, taught Tony respect—less bragging, more heart. He’s a decent guy now. Hell, I gave him his cock back and he often brings his new girlfriend’s to meet me for hypnotherapy. He attracted hot women like moths to a flame.

I started a practice, got rich, bought a nice house, had three kids, all Tony’s. I wanted my children to have his genes. He and Jenna made some gorgeous children. I’m proud to be their dad.

By day, I’m a respected professor, doctor, loving husband, and father. But at night, counting down, I’m king, their minds and bodies are all mine.

All mine.

 

The End