Master of the Jocks

Chapter 1

Dexter and the Jocks

Note: This is a story I have uploaded on a different site a few months back. The story is set in some small Texas town during the 2000’s where football, cowboys, and homophobia reign supreme. I’m not from the US nor English my first language, but the nerd-jock dynamic is something I’m interested in. Every character, except the protagonist, is at least 18 years old.

My name is Dexter and I am gay. I don’t know if I should start introducing myself with that, but then, you are nothing but a pigment of my imagination. I am also very smart. Smart enough to skip 2 years of schooling and go straight to senior high school at age 16. My plan obviously involves going to a university, probably somewhere with a good Neuroscience or Psychology program. It has always been my passion: understanding the human brain. As a young genius, it is obviously something I take interest in. Other things I’m interested in: neurolinguistic programming, psychiatric pharmacology, behavioral modification, that kind of stuff. See a pattern yet? So anyway, I’m currently stuck here in this public high school, along with the most cookie-cutter people I have ever seen. Talking to you, an imaginary “friend”, I suppose, is merely one of my ways to maintain any semblance of intellectually-stimulating conversation in this god-forsaken place. Everyone else is talking about their boring heteronormative relationships, football, things to watch on TV, and religion. Ugh!? You may say I’m arrogant or having some sort of superiority complex. I know! And I own it. I’ve diagnosed myself with a god complex since age 12 and I don’t really care. All I really want right now is to get out of this place, get into uni, and never have to deal with dumb people again.

Well, I lied. As I’ve said, I’m gay, and hot, dumb, cocky jocks are my kind of thing, like very much! See that table of musclebound Neanderthals over there? Yup! The ones carrying all sorts of balls into the cafeteria: football, basketball, baseball, and specifically, those balls they’re hiding behind those Abercrombie and Fitch denim pants. Three of them are in my class. That blue-eyed blond-hair guy over there is Chad. He’s the dumbest of the three. He’s also the biggest: over 230 lbs. of teenage boi muscle and 6’2ft. in height. He was delayed a year for reasons I’m not sure of, so he’s about 19 now. I heard that it’s about bringing marijuana and a gun inside the campus, beating up a classmate so badly he had to be hospitalized, cheating on a test, some conspiracy about the football coach just wanting to keep him for another year. At this point, I don’t know which is real and which are just rumors. The guy with the cowboy hat over there is Cody. Around 5’11ft. in height and 190 lbs. He’s completely unremarkable academic-wise and only above average sports-wise, but he has male-model good looks and seems to be packing something big down there. I actually commend him being able to pull off that red-haired and green-eyed cowboy look so masterfully. I overheard him talking about becoming a cowboy stripper in Dallas if he fails in life, obviously kidding. Given how average he is except in looks, he might just become one. Despite that, he has a serious reputation of being a womanizer within the campus. And then there’s that black-haired, blue-eyed, 6ft., 200lbs. guy over there. His name is Rich, because of course he is. He is good-looking, in a boy-next-door kind, rich, smart for a jock, dates the hottest cheerleader, and is the quarterback of the school’s football team. In short, he rules high school right now. I heard his dad is some millionaire rancher who also owns an oil field. So, there you go! The jock trio: the athletic one, the good-looking one, and the “perfect” one.

I’ve been bullied several times by them. You name it: lunch money being taken, being stuffed in the locker, being “unintentionally” hit by a baseball in the head during one of those stupid roughhousing sessions when the teacher wasn’t around, being casually called ‘fag’ or ‘dweeb’. Well, they weren’t wrong, but it’s still annoying since I fully intended to keep that a secret until at least I’ve left for college. You know how close-minded people can be when it comes to homosexuals. The only other guy that gets more bullying than me is Justin. He’s about the same age as them but he’s smaller and obviously weaker. He’s only about 5’5 ft. and hardly what you would have in mind when the word ‘man’ is thrown around. Plus he’s Asian, and I somehow think that contributes to the dumb jock calculus on who gets to be bullied more. As for me, I am about the same size as Justin, and undeniably post-pubescent if you take a hard look: with a light dusting of hair in all places an adult male should have and a visible Adam’s apple that fails in its singular job of giving me a deep baritone voice. When it comes to intelligence though, Justin and I blow them off through the roof. We usually exchange places in who the highest and 2nd highest scorers in test exams are and this just compounds the jocks’ hatred towards us. Justin and I are best friends, but I told him I’ll never defend him against the Neanderthals if push comes to shove. He completely understands. So basically, that’s the arrangement of my life in this place. That is, until an opportunity came for me to be able to change it.

It all starts with a science project: about null hypothesis testing and such. We are supposed to find a testable hypothesis and try to prove or reject it. Justin and I are supposed to be partners in this project, until Cody put his arm around Justin and called him ‘pardner’. I get where this is going. He wanted to partner up with one of us nerds since we know what to do and would practically do all the work, while they share the credit. Justin also knows it. Rich is partnered up with his cheerleader girlfriend, and I ended up with Chad. Great! Now I ended up with the dumbest of the Neanderthals in this project. In retrospect, it was the best thing that happened to me, but it looked like the worst thing that moment. I would like to change partners with anyone at that moment if I could, except I would probably get the ire of the jocks.

I really don’t want to do it alone, so I tried to plan a project where I could at least utilize Chad in any sort of contribution to this project. And then, light bulb! This is where my whole obsession with psychology kicks in. I could test whether positive reinforcement through hypnosis could improve athletic performance. I simply need to create an audio recording, add a little bit of multi-colored spiral, and some comfortable place to sit on and I could have him sprinting record time across some track. I have already tried adding some subliminal messaging on my family and it’s working based on my theories. He easily agreed to the project. Total simpleton! So apparently, he’s not really opposed to contributing, he just doesn’t want to contribute mentally. According to him, it’s his way of trying to put his life in order. In a way, it’s pretty charming. I will most certainly help him put the “order” in his life.

— Satuday Morning —

So here we both are, during a fine weekend morning, in the middle of the school’s track field for a little scientific experiment. Me, one of the weakest and smallest boys in the senior class, was pleasantly surprised that Chad, the biggest and most muscular boy, actually bothered to show up. I’m sure this size juxtaposition makes us look like a cute couple! The place is pretty empty but I’m sure anybody seeing us together would probably be surprised and curious what could possibly put us together there. He was dressed up in basketball shorts, some New Balance sneakers, and a red Affliction tank top. He looks like a total douche, just as I expected him to be.

The experiment is pretty simple: he’s going to do some warm-ups, run across the track for 5 laps, and I will measure the time. That time will be the basis. Then the next part is crucial: I will provide him with some drink laced with some hypnotic sedatives, which I will present as electrolytes to replenish his lost ones. I will provide him my ipod to watch the hypnotic spiral on, along with the accompanying subliminal “reaffirming messages”. And as he wakes up from his well-rested and well-conditioned nap, he will do the laps again to determine whether hypnosis works in increasing athletic capabilities. Sounds like a perfect, little, evil plan, yeah?

Needless to say, nearly two and a half hours went on, and everything worked according to plan. But just in case you don’t want to just move on this fast, I have pre-recorded his little repetitive mumbles on my phone. It goes like this:

Chad: “I am a dumb muscle jock. I am bad at thinking. I am bad at making decisions. Thinking and making decisions will only lead me to trouble. Dexter is the smart one. I will submit to Dexter. I will obey Dexter. Dexter will think for me. Dexter will make the decisions for me. I feel relaxed listening to Dexter as much as I feel relaxed now. I want to feel relaxed. Submitting to Dexter makes me feel relaxed. Obeying Dexter makes me feel relaxed. Dexter’s voice makes me feel relaxed. Dexter will take the burden of thinking and making decisions for me. I trust Dexter. I will submit to Dexter. I will obey Dexter. I want to listen to Dexter's voice. I want to submit to Dexter. I want to obey Dexter.”

Isn’t he just so cute and adorable? Just imagine a blond, 19-year-old hunk, a mountain of muscle, whose blue-eyes struggle in the twilight of being both closed and open, drool coming out of his mouth, with those dark red patches of sweat in his tank top, caressing his broad masculine shoulders, and what seems to be his manhood poking out from his basketball shorts. The cherry on top? It’s definitely when he murmurs “I will obey Dexter.” Every little detail of this experiment just gets my blood pumping. As you may have noticed, the whole “master and slave” thing is not here yet. That will come for later.

After the second round of laps, I gave him a little direction. Some little “follow-up”. He should go to my house tomorrow night to help me tabulate the data. That is obviously some BS since this assignment is a breeze anyway. Normally, I would expect Chad to shrug this thing off as “nerd work”, but given the implanted impulse that he must obey me, he should be okay with this suggestion. This would also test whether the hypnosis worked or not.

Chad: “Sir, yes, sir! Though I don’t know where you live sir. Can you give me your address, sir?”

This is interesting!? Now he is calling me ‘sir’ even though I never asked him to do it. It seems he now views me as some sort of authority figure. Maybe he came from a military family and his strict father made him call him sir, and somehow, he is projecting that onto me? I’d dig deeper on this angle later on. For now, I gave him my address and we went our separate ways. I can’t wait for tomorrow night!

— Sunday Night —

Two prominent knocks were heard at the door. Finally! My highlight of the night has finally arrived. Chad came with a short sleeve button up shirt with 3 top buttons open, some denim pants, some sneakers, a cross necklace, and for goodness’s sake!? Perfume!? I can’t help but think he had an ensemble ready for a date, well, for an average teenage boy. He had a faint smile which shows some hesitancy as well as excitement for coming here. I would sure enjoy our time together tonight!

Chad: “Good evening si… I mean, Dexter. I’m here.”

Indeed, you are mister. Indeed, you are. And you’ve tried to resist calling me sir this time. That will make everything that comes after tonight sweeter. After this night is over, I can make you call me anything I want.

Dexter: “Oh hi Chad! Seems you are overdressed for the occasion. Anyway, my computer is in my room on the second floor, second door to the right. Just wait up there while I prepare a relaxing tea for you. Tea makes concentrating so much easier.”

To be continued…