Dreambelle's Chime

Lorelei's Note: This series will contain cisboy POV, varying shades of light-to-heavy mind control/brainwashing, cnc, forcefem, femdom, a little bit of femboydom, and a

lot

of malesub. This chapter is mostly setup, but does contain a lot of subtle hypnosis and some fun teasing towards the end~

Real-life con-noncon requires a lot of trust, safewords, and other things a fantasy can fudge a little. Enjoy the kink responsibly, and enjoy the story!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Yeah, see you all 'round!" Avery called, grinning ear-to-ear as he stumbled out the front door. "Don't start any shit without us!"

The door slammed shut in his face.

He laughed and turned to follow after the others. His footsteps were lumbering and uneven, weighed down with heavy drink. "Yeah, that was legendary."

"We got kicked out, shithead," Rich glowered. The lacrosse runner's blonde hair swished back as he cast an ugly look at the house. He drew his $895 designer jacket tighter around himself against the cold night air. "God, when my dad hears about this... wanna bet they have a fire code violation or something?"

"Eh, probably." Avery gave a crude laugh and patted Rich on the shoulder. "Especially since I'm not sure Marty remembered to put out his joint."

"Told you we should've spiked the punch." Steve smirked, tossing a half-empty bottle into the bushes. "Could've had a real fun night and gotten even at the same time. That's what they call economies of scale." He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, then dragged his hand down his face and over his goatee as if trying to wipe the exhaustion away. "Ugh, and now we have to walk home. Britney drove us and she's still in there partying. Bitch."

"My

man

! The night's not over yet!" Marty turned to face the rest of them, walking backwards with a distinctly uneven gait, and clapped his hands together. "Let's keep it going! I heard those chicks at the nerd sorority are throwing something--why don't we crash that and pick some girls up? Steve, you're always going on about how nerd chicks are hotter or whatever."

"It's all about The Game," Steve said sagely. "Girls with a lower social capital--"

"Yeah, it's all about, like, yeah!" Marty nodded enthusiastically. "What Creepy Steve said!"

"Easy, guys." Lewis smirked, easing around Marty and continuing on his way. "I think we're done for the night."

"Aw, but c'mon, we've gotta get even somehow!" Rich protested. "Nobody just throws Omega Beta Epsilon Ypsilon out like that! People will talk!"

"They'll apologize in the morning." Lewis brushed back an errant lock of his perpetually-windswept crimson hair. "If not, I'll come down tomorrow and hash things out with them. They'll back down." He spoke with the easy, gentle, kindly cadence of one who was quite accustomed to getting his way and didn't quite know what not getting it felt like. Lewis was bigger than the other four guys by a lot--really, he was stacked, especially compared with scrawny Steve or pretty-boy Rich--but it was something more intangible that gave him his charisma. "But I'm fuckin' tired, bros. Gotta hit the sack."

Marty groaned, but Lewis had spoken, and Lewis paid the following argument no heed. 'Creepy Steve' was talking about posting the house's address on one of his websites, and Rich kept bringing up his father. Same-old, same-old.

Lewis didn't really care about being thrown out. People never really stood up to him long enough for him to resent it. The house owners would see reason. He really was tired, and where he went, the brothers of Omega Beta Epsilon Ypsilon followed.

"Hey, what's that?" Marty suddenly piped up.

"What's what, Marty?" Lewis glanced back and followed Marty's gaze. They were walking along a dark, little-used street on the far corner of the campus, and the sidewalk was currently running beside some sort of wooded park area.

"Can't you see 'em?" Marty pointed. "Lights."

Lewis squinted. Beneath the tall conifers, the forest was pitch black, and dead silent this close to the road. He was tempted to suggest that Marty sober up a bit quicker, or else the dumbass could walk home on his own tonight.

As he was about to turn away, though, his eyes caught a flicker in the woods. A flash. And... and then he

did

see them. Tiny little pinpricks of light bouncing in the darkness, deep, deep in the woods.

He squinted. "Damn. What are those?"

"Forest's old around here." Rich's voice was low. "My uncle's company wanted to log it and build a condo, but the stupid spotted owls got in the way."

"Yeah. Figures." Lewis wasn't totally listening. He was still staring out into the woods, watching as the lights flickered and bobbed, glimmering blue and pink, distant little jellyfish in the pitch-black waters of the deep ocean.

"Right, right," Steve muttered. "The (((spotted owls))), I'll bet."

"Marty," Lewis said under his breath, "tell Creepy Steve that I don't know how he always pronounces the weird triple parentheses thing like that, but if he does it again I'm gonna kick his ass inwards. It trips me out."

"Hey, Creepy Steve," Marty began.

"Shut up, I heard."

"Let's keep walking," Lewis said after another long moment. "Probably some dipshit kids running around with, like, glowsticks or something. Maybe a concert."

"In the woods?" Rich asked.

"Sure. Why not?" Feeling confident in this explanation, Lewis turned away and continued walking home. After an unusually long delay, he heard the other four follow after.

~ ~ ~ ~

"Steve, dude, did you have to kick the bowl?"

As he entered the frat house, Lewis glanced back toward the entrance. "Oh, hey, Kyle."

Kyle--a brawny quarterback with powerful chiseled features only somewhat undercut by his girly-ass charm necklace and his leg being in a cast--was glaring at Steve, who stood beside an upturned bowl just on the porch. Steve shrugged. "Look, dude, you can't leave a bowl of old milk out all night and expect me not to kick it."

"Dude, it's cream!" Kyle snapped. Leaning on his crutch, he advanced on Steve. Steve suddenly seemed a lot less eager for this confrontation. Even with his leg broken, Kyle was twice Steve's size. "It's, like, for good luck, and spirits and shit."

"Kyle, bag it with the dumbass superstition shit, okay?" Rich rolled his eyes as he passed by. "Isn't that what got your leg broken in the first place?"

Kyle flushed. "I-I--no, and also, that's not the point. The point is, it's my bowl, and you're gonna piss off something out there if you go kicking it around like an asshole!"

"Yeah," Avery snorted, "and if I step on a four-leaf clover, like, Jack the Ripper's gonna jump outta a mirror and eat my dick, right?"

"That's Bloody Mary, idiot! And she doesn't--" Kyle growled and raised his hand to flick the drunken Avery on the forehead. "The clover thing is real! I stepped on it before

this

happened, didn't I?" He waved the crutch threateningly.

Lewis grimaced at the display. God, this shit was awkward. "Alright, let's just move on, guys," he said, his voice carefully cool and reasonable. "It's late, and I don't want to spend all night listening to you two bitch and snitch at each other."

"Not until this bitch apologizes for kicking the bowl! And pours a new one!"

"Dude, it was just a bowl of cream."

Lewis's coolness faded. He rolled his eyes and made his way to the kitchen, rummaging briefly inside the fridge for something. Had to nip this in the bud.

"It was for good luck! It was for good luck for the whole house! But you're too fucking selfish to--"

"Hey, so, Kyle!" Lewis returned with what he'd sought--a mostly-empty carton of cream helpfully sticky-noted,

Kyle's Cream

. He smirked as Kyle turned to him and stared warily at the carton. "So if cream's good luck and shit, I'm about to win the lottery, right?"

Maintaining eye contact, Lewis upended the carton of cream and began to chug it all down, cream dripping down the corners of his mouth.

The other guys of Omega Beta Epsilon Ypsilon, all just as drunk as Lewis, began howling with laughter as Kyle went beetred. Lewis just focused on not gagging. The carton was... a lot more full than he'd really registered.

But finally, he lowered the carton, wiped his lips, and gave a loud burp. "Okay, we done here?"

"Dude--you--" Kyle sputtered incoherently as the others filed upstairs. "You can't just--"

Lewis tossed him the empty carton, accidentally splattering droplets of cream all over the carpet and Kyle's shirt, and fixed him with a dead-eyed stare. "Dude. Go to fucking sleep."

He turned and made his way to the stairs, trying not to sway as the ramifications of what he'd just done began to dawn on his stomach.

'Good luck.' 'Fairies.' God, Kyle was such a superstitious idiot. Probably believed in that Cointelpro thing Marty's stepsister was always talking about, too.

~ ~ ~ ~

Lewis's dreams were... strange. They swam in an endless shifting discomfort, the sorts of nauseous waves one might expect to flood one's mind after drinking a quarter carton of heavy whipping cream straight after getting extremely drunk at someone else's party. Again and again he awoke, his stomach alternating between clenching as if he'd swallowed a tub of salt and rolling as if he'd just swallowed several live banana slugs.

But when he was asleep, when his dreams became clearer... they were strange. Hot girls drifted around him, women with massive glowing eyes and strange tiaras, tiaras with little bells dangling from before them like anglerfish lures. The sluts were kissing him, stroking him, pulling him into beds with them while they giggled and lavished him with praise. Bells were ringing in his ears as he drooled and bucked and came, as women cooed and sucked his cock with worshipful smiles.

But he kept waking up, and that part sucked. Just when the dreams would start to get good, too.

Finally, the fifth time he'd woken up like this, Lewis forced himself to sit up in bed. His stomach heaved, and his world swam. Glancing at his clock, he saw it was 13:00pm.

Shit,

he thought blearily,

the Bulls've got a game in two days, I can't be sleeping like this.

Reluctantly, he stumbled out of bed and made his way downstairs. He'd get some of Avery's chips to help settle his stomach.

He wasn't used to being up this late. Or rather, Lewis wasn't used to being up this late while actually trying to be quiet. The moon and stars cast the whole frat house in an eerie light. Omega Beta Epsilon Upsilon was located on the edges of the college, just next to the old forests. They were very isolated, and virtually no city lights reached them here. The only light came from above.

He only half-registered that every other bedroom door was open as he made his way to the stairs. This didn't make sense to him, so he mostly tuned it out, because right now he didn't care about anything but getting his stomach to stop acting up.

He stumbled into the kitchen and opened the fridge door. For a moment, he stared into it, barely really seeing the contents.

He blinked slowly.

The crickets sure were loud tonight.

It was weirdly cold tonight, too.

And... windy.

Indoors.

Lewis slowly turned to face the entrance. The front door was wide open.

"Shit," he muttered, stalking over and grabbing the doorknob to pull it shut. "What the hell? Who the hell--"

He was ready to wake the whole house up--that was the kind of mood he was in tonight--when his eyes, glazing over the shadows outside, adjusted

just

enough to spot movement out among the trees.

At first, he assumed it was a deer or something. But deer didn't walk on two legs. Second, in his still-half-asleep state, he assumed it was some sort of horrific two-legged deer mutant.

Then he realized it was Rich.

"What the fuck?" he muttered with a little half-laugh. The idiot was just walking out into the forest in his--shit, was that dude in his boxers?

He must be sleepwalking,

Lewis realized, and had a rare moment of concern. It quickly passed as he realized Rich was going to force him to go outside on a dark, windy night to bring him back inside.

Fuck that.

"Hey, Rich!" he hollered. He didn't really care if he woke the others; if one of them did wake up,

they

could go rescue that little trust fund baby.

But Rich didn't answer. In fact, as far as Lewis could tell, Rich hadn't even heard him. He just kept stumbling forward, one foot in front of the other.

And then Rich was gone. Gulped down right into the gloom beneath the old pines.

Lewis shifted nervously from foot to foot. "Goddammit," he muttered. He grabbed Marty's nice coat from the coatrack, clumsily donned it, and took off after at a brisk walk.

Tired as he was, it did not occur to Lewis to grab a flashlight. By the time it did occur to him, he was already halfway out, and he brushed the concern off immediately. He'd be fine. What kind of idiot got lost in the woods this close to home?

~ ~ ~ ~

Lewis was lost in the woods.

He wasn't going to admit it, of course. Lewis didn't get lost. Lewis always knew where he was going. His gait was confident, steady and unflinching as he boldly ventured into the darkness with absolutely no idea which way was north. He was shivering against the rising wind. Above him, the wind sent the pine trees hissing and rustling. The crickets were so loud, Lewis could barely hear his own thoughts--they were just a constant storm of mindless noise.

Lewis was lost as hell, and he was slowly starting to consider questioning his decision to go without a light when he heard, over the endless chirpings, a loud snap.

Instantly all his confidence was gone. Every single possible worst outcome flashed into the frat bro's mind--a bear, a mountain lion, a cougar, a serial killer--as he spun to face the noise, already stumbling back.

But instead, to his intense relief, he saw a familiar plump silhouette walking a short ways away, weaving around tall climbing brambles that almost obscured him from sight.

"Marty!" Lewis rushed over, but Marty didn't seem to react. As Lewis got closer, he realized the wild hedonist party animal looked about as docile as a lamb. His eyes were glazed, his footfalls heavy. The dude looked even more tired than Lewis felt. Lewis hesitated. "Marty?"

Slowly, Marty took another step forward. He swayed, nearly falling, and reflexively, Lewis's arm shot out to grab him by the shoulder. At the same time, Lewis tried to think of something deeply personal and meaningful that might jar Marty out of this strange sleepwalking trance.

"Dipshit, come on, wake up!"

Marty gave a start the second Lewis touched him, making Lewis regret getting all emotional and gay over nothing. He blinked blearily back at Lewis. "Lewis? The... the fuck?" He laughed drowsily, looking around at their surroundings. "Dude, did you actually ditch me earlier, or did I just dream us all walking back together?"

"You were sleepwalking. So was Rich." Lewis rolled his eyes. Now that Marty looked confused, he felt a bit less uneasy. Marty was always confused. Dude was an idiot. "So, is everyone sleepwalking tonight?"

"Uhh... I dunno. Are you?"

Lewis cuffed Marty over the head. "Shut up, idiot. Hey, maybe someone actually did spike the punch."

"Oh, Steve definitely did. Dude always does." Marty stretched his neck with an audible crack, clearly still sort of waking up. "My stepsister says it's kinda, like, problematic or some shit."

Lewis snorted. Marty's stepsister was even dumber than he was. "I meant aside from Steve. Like, maybe something chemically reacted to Steve's mix, you know?"

"Yeah, maybe. I dunno, like..." Marty's head tilted suddenly. He peered over Lewis's shoulder. "Whoa. Dude, what are those?"

"What?" Lewis turned.

The lights were back.

They bobbed in the air like weird glowing bubbles. Like tiny stars. Pink and white and blue, bobbing and bouncing and floating through the air, pulsing with dazzling lights.

They were everywhere, Lewis realized, disoriented as he spun and saw them now in the other direction too. How hadn't he noticed them before? Was this still a dream? "Dude, what are those?"

"Probably, um..." Marty yawned. "... party in the woods, right?"

"... yeah." Lewis nodded, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He didn't like seeming more spooked than Marty was. "I bet it's some stupid lightshow prank from the Kappa Pi nerds. This is exactly the kind of..." He trailed off as his gaze settled on a shadowy shape in the distance. "Shit, is that Avery?"

They hurried over towards the stumbling stoner. As he drew nearer, Lewis saw that Avery seemed to be in the same trance as Marty had been in. The lights had initially seemed to be flying around Avery, but the closer they got, the further they drifted, until they were right upon Avery and the lights were once again off in the distance. It was almost like the lights were shy.

Lewis rushed over and grabbed Avery roughly by the arm. "Hey! Hey, Avery!"

Avery did not immediately respond. He kept stumbling forward, his eyes glazed and reflecting many colors into the darkness. Even when Lewis shook him, there was no response.

"Hey, look, it's Kyle," Lewis heard Marty murmur, pointing further down. Up ahead, Kyle was indeed stumbling on, deeper into the brush.

Lewis ignored Marty and snapped his fingers in front of Avery's face, then, when this failed, loudly clapped his hands.

"Avery!"

This finally seemed to jolt Avery out of it. He spun to face them, raising a fist to swing. "Wha--what the fuck?"

"Easy, Avery." Lewis raised both hands defensively. "Dude, what are you doing out here?"

"I was..." Avery blinked dazedly out into the darkness. "... having a weird dream, I guess."

"Yeah, I'll say." Lewis looked between the other two, then at Kyle as the brawny quarterback disappeared into the distance. "Hey!

Hey, Kyle! Dumbass! Wake up!

"

Kyle did not appear to even notice Lewis. Somehow, that rankled even more than open disrespect.

"This is really weird," Lewis heard Marty muttering.

Nodding in unsteady agreement, Lewis squinted off into the gloom, trying to make out Kyle. But the quarterback was gone.

In the distant darkness of the forest, the lights flickered and flashed in pink, white and blue.

"Maybe it's a gender reveal party?" Marty suggested. "A, um, nighttime one."

"Must be some fucked up gender."

"Yeah, like, my stepsister's been saying--"

"No one gives a fuck, Marty.'' Lewis sighed and flicked his hand onward. "Look, let's go check it out. Seems like that's where Rich and Kyle are headed."

Marty's head tilted to the side. "Are sleepwalkers drawn to lights or something?"

"Moths," Avery said, yawning. "That's moths, Marty." He set out after the wayward Kyle, his footsteps still a little uneven. "Come on, let's go get him and bring him back."

Lewis and Marty exchanged uncertain looks, then followed after. The lights twirled and bounced around like fireflies. Very colorful fireflies. There was no sign of Kyle anymore.

"This is

really

weird, right?" Lewis heard Marty saying under his breath.

Lewis sort of agreed, but he didn't want to seem perturbed in front of the guys. He pointed up vaguely towards the lights. "Let's just... keep going. Work out what's going on."

Avery blinked, then shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, dude." He glanced up, his gaze briefly flickering with the lights' reflections, pink and blue twinkles in his eyes. "Yeah, let's... I bet it's some kinda sick rave, right? That's the only... um, like, logical explanation."

"Yeah, that makes... sense." Lewis gave a dazed nod and sped up his pace. He heard the others following after him. Kyle was nowhere to be seen anymore, but Lewis didn't care about Kyle right now. "Yeah..."

The lights up ahead flickered. Spun. Danced, even.