This story could also fit in the Science Fiction category, but I've always been fascinated by Mind Control. I hope you approve. All characters are at least eighteen years old.
Hard Lessons
Grumman's solid body slammed down on Colin O'Malley's chest, and only the impact displacers in the gym mat saved him from a cracked rib. As he lay there trying to regain his breath, Grumman mashed his forearm into Colin's cheek, forcing his ear into the mat.
"That's enough," ordered a stern female voice, but Grumman pretended not to hear and shoved down even harder. "I said that's enough," Sensei Signe ordered. Reluctantly Grumman rolled off Colin and stood to face their teacher.
The tall woman with the short-cropped blonde hair reached down and easily pulled Colin to his feet. "Go join the others," she said brusquely, then turned back to Grumman and looked him over as though for the first time. "That was good," she mused aloud. "You were fast and aggressive, and you did well to use your superior size to overwhelm your opponent."
The big second-year cadet with the dark brown hair grinned, pleased at the rare praise from his sensei. His smile didn't last long. "Now try me," she commanded.
He looked at her warily. The sleeveless unitard she wore clearly showcased the muscle definition in his instructor's body.
I'd like to see her without her kit,
the lustful notion flashed to mind. Nevertheless, he hesitated: he'd seen her demonstrate her superior hand-to-hand combat skills often enough.
Still,
he judged,
I must outweigh her by fifty pounds
.
"Are you going to just stand there, Grumman?" Signe taunted. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a girl."
His pride pricked, Grumman roared and rushed at the sensei, intending to grapple with her and drag her to the mat.
It was all over in a moment.
As Colin watched in amazement, the big man went flying over the blonde woman to land heavily on his back. But the instructor had not released the meaty wrist she'd grabbed; instead, Signe used Grumman's momentum to pull her upright so that she now stood over him. Balanced on her left foot, she jammed her right into the hairy armpit of her stunned opponent, his wrist firmly grasped in her hands.
Try as he might, Grumman could not wrench his left arm free, and when he reached over with his other hand to try to dislodge her bare foot, she twisted his extended right arm slightly, causing the prone figure to howl in pain. "Ah, ah, ah," she scolded, "be a good boy or I'll have to dislocate your shoulder."
He immediately stopped but continued to glare at her malevolently while frantically trying to remember some way he could reverse her advantage. She grinned down at him. "I know what you're thinking, but it won't work. In this position, submission is your only option."
Stubbornly he refused to concede, so the sensei twisted wrist arm a few degrees. Instantly his face turned pale and he slapped the mat with his free hand in the universal sign of surrender. She released her hold and the big man's arm fell limply to the floor.
"Go slap some fro-gel on that shoulder," she advised, "and it will be good as new tomorrow." As the big student slunk away, she turned to the rest of the class. "Weight and strength are great advantages, but without balance and control they can easily be defeated." At that moment the tone signaling the end of the period interrupted her. "We'll explore this concept in more depth tomorrow," she informed them.
As the cadets began to disperse, Signe tapped Colin on the shoulder. "O'Malley, stay," she ordered him. "You and I are going to continue."
Oh, great,
Colin thought.
First Grumman pounds me into the mat, now Sensei is going to finish what he started.
But he knew better than to argue with an instructor
particularly Sensei Signe,
so he remained on the mat and stifled his sigh.
An hour later, the red-headed young man dragged his weary body into his spartan cubicle and flopped down on the hard foam mattress. When the door slid shut, the light came on automatically, but he waved it off, preferring to rest in darkness. His fingers probed the new bruises he'd acquired, but he had to admit Sensei had probably gone easy on him. More to the point, by the time the private session was over, Colin had learned some tactics he could use when attacked by a larger opponent.
He ran his hands down to his crotch, feeling the senso-padding that protected his penis and testicles. At the instant of contact the material would automatically stiffen and cushion, safely absorbing a blow from anything short of a steel-toed boot. He recalled several times Signe's arms and legs had landed in that delicate region, and he mentally thanked whoever had invented the padding.
That train of thought provoked a different one.
Sensei sure wasn't wearing any padding.
He couldn't help noticing the way Signe's nipples had poked through the fabric of her unitard,
and when she caught me in that leg scissors, I could see her camel toe! I bet the other guys – and maybe some of the girls – would have killed to swap places with me
.
The thought of running his hands over those forbidden places, even if only during the lesson, caused his penis to stiffen. He reached down to touch himself, only to stop suddenly.
Get real,
he chided himself.
Sensei Signe has no interest in us cadets that way, and even if she did, I'd be way at the end of the line. Besides,
he laughed wryly,
if I were to touch her, she'd be more likely to rip my dick off than suck it.
A knock from the corridor outside broke his reverie, and when he signaled, the panel on his cubicle slid back to reveal Nurse Amber. Clad in her white lab coat and clutching a clipboard in her arms, the young woman had a frown on her face. "What are you doing here, Colin?" she demanded. "You're supposed to be in the infirmary for your treatment."
"Sorry, Amber. Sensei Signe had me stay behind for more instruction, and it was all I could do to drag myself back here afterwards."
The young nurse tried to maintain her stern expression, but her natural good humor quickly dissolved the frost. "Well, if you'll hurry now you won't be too late, and hopefully Dr. Patel won't get angry. Come along now."
"Yes, Mom," he teased.
Once in the treatment area, Colin quickly climbed up on an examining table and lay back, his arms resting at his sides. The nurse brought over a plastic bag filled with clear liquid and suspended it at head height. Deftly she inserted a needle into the large vein in the crook of Colin's right elbow and taped it securely. When she was satisfied, she went to the other side of the table and used a vacutainer to draw a blood sample from her patient's left arm. She carefully labeled the sample and stored it while the bag of liquid continued to drain slowly into Colin's system.
"Aren't you ever going to tell me what all this is for?" he asked her petulantly. "You've been doing this every week for months now and I still don't know why."
"We're trying to modify your DNA in a specific chromosome to increase production of a hormone your body doesn't make in sufficient quantity," came a deep male voice, and Colin jerked his head around to see Dr. Patel walk through the door.
"Does that mean that I have some sort of hereditary disease?" Colin asked apprehensively.
The doctor shook his head. "Not at all, young man. We're just making sure your body is able to produce this hormone in sufficient quantities on its own."
"But if I have a deficiency . . ."
"Don't worry about it, Colin," the doctor interrupted. "This is not a case of your being unhealthy; instead we're ensuring you will be even more healthy going forward." Seeing his patient about to protest, he waved him off. "That's all I'm going to say on the subject, young man. You'd have to have graduated from medical school before I could go into more detail. Just believe me when I tell you that you have nothing to fear and that you'll be most happy that we intervened as we have." With that he strode purposefully away, foreclosing any further discussion.