Homeroom
By Limewah
Patron Reward for Moxas (August 2023)
18+

—

The blue-furred rabbit watched the CCTV screen for Room 3B from his little office. Even through his opaque domino mask, his eyes were piercing, authoritative - the exact look one would expect from a Dean.  
The classroom on the screen was small and austere, beige walls and tile floors with eight wood-and-metal desks with matching chairs laid out, 2 by 3. It was not exactly a welcoming place, very much in keeping with the old Prussian model of schoolteaching.
The ‘bell’ rang, a four-note rising arpeggio of synthesised bongs, another school-time throwback. The dean continued to wait, slowly doing-up the buttons of his violet velvet waistcoat - the thing that gave him his namesake, aside from the similarly coloured thong that was the only thing he wore below the waist.

Thirty seconds later, on the dot, the first students entered through the door. A seal, an orca, a harpy-eagle, a raccoon, a hare, and a rat. All of them former heroes, of varying heights, but all of them in peak physical condition. They were all dressed in tight, crisp shirts with x-shaped stretch marks around each button, as well as equally tight, darker shorts. 
Even through the green-tinted screen, the Dean could see the class’ eyes spiralling as they entered and marched to their seats. They moved as though they were on a grid, stopping on the spot before turning at a right angle and moving once more. 
When each one reached their chair, they came to a standstill, and waited - the one exception was a short raccoon who had to climb onto a tall wooden step to stand next to his seat.
They would wait as long as they needed to before they were told to sit.
That was the Velvet Dean’s cue. With a chuckle, he adjusted his now-bulging crotch and stood from his desk. He took his long yardstick, stroking its hard edge against his palm as he leisurely walked down the hall. Brief glances to some of the other classrooms confirmed that the education of the other pupils (by some of his recent graduates, no less) was going splendidly. 
These newcomers, though… he wanted to give them a personal touch.
He tugged on the lapel of his violet blazer and spied himself in a window to make sure his bow-tie was also just-so. With a sharp left-turn, he entered room 3B. They all watched him, still standing, an expectant nervous look on their faces - some vestiges of resistance coming through, maybe recognizing him from past encounters.
Rap rap rap went the ruler on the corner of the desk, and all of them shot erect once more, eyes spinning faster.
“Be seated, class,” he said as he rounded the table.. He didn’t even need to look. Just hearing the synchronised scrape and shift as all 6 backsides were planted in their seats was delicious in itself. 
They were so well-trained already. But he couldn’t show how delighted he was with that, just yet. The stiff upper lip was essential.
He looked at his class. Six pairs of rainbow-swirling eyes stared back at him with blank expectancy. Their hands were resting on the tables, alert and prepared for the day’s lesson.

“Good morning, class,” the Dean said.
“Good morning, Sir,” the class responded in perfect unison. The rabbit smiled, making a mental note to raise the Orientation team’s wages. There was not a hint of resistance from any of them already. While he did take some sadistic pleasure in breaking the last vestiges of will, it was nice to have a slightly easier job.
He saved his smile for when he faced away from them and began to write on the classroom’s chalkboard.
TODAY’S EXERCISE
IMAGINATION

“You will be happy to know,” the rabbit said with a brassy, commanding tone, “That we will not be carrying out any written work this morning, barring any potential punishments. Remain on your best behaviour, and you will have an enjoyable, work-free day.”
He administered four more ruler-raps on the table.
“Thank you, Sir,” all of them responded - though he noted that the seal wearing the tight red bandana over his head was just a little behind the others. The Dean would let it slide… for now. 
“Today we will be partaking in an imagination exercise, which will involve some roleplay. Can any of you think of roles one might play in their day to day life? Yes, Mr. Raccoon?”
“Students?” The raccoon looked eager.
“Very good,” The Dean said. “Mr. Rat?”
“Slaves?”
“Excellent answer, Mr. Rat. Mr Orca?” 
“Masters?”
“Hmm. Would you consider that a role you might play?”
His ruler was poised to tap the desk again, in case he didn’t respond correctly.
“No, sir.” The correct answer. 
The somewhat unsteady-looking hare had his hand up. 
“Yes, Mr. Hare?”
“H…heroes?” he looked ashamed to even suggest it. He withered under the Dean’s glare.
“Yes, in a sense. But it is not a role to aspire to. This exercise will be a perfect demonstration of that principle.”

He turned back to the chalkboard, dragging the chalk across in long, sloping, sharp lines, before coming back the other way to create a long, tapered line, not unlike a tentacle. 
“Now, together we will visualise the following scenario,” the Dean continued. “This board will act as a portal into a shared lucid dream. You will all take on the identity of superpowered vigilantes, facing off against an otherworldly threat. You will believe that you are attempting to save the world. But you will find yourselves overpowered by a creature far more powerful than you could ever have reckoned with. From there, it will pleasure you until your resistance is entirely broken.”

By that point, the tentacles were covering the board, fanning out in a corona from a central, circular shape, with a single slitted eye. The class stared, and he could see a confused look creased along the seal’s face.
“Is there something the matter, Mr. Seal?” the rabbit asked as he marched towards him, with the ruler still brandished.
“N-no Sir,” the seal lied, trying to mask some little vestige of his old self. “I could never have been a hero before, I’m definitely not remember-”
The tip of the ruler tapped twice on his nose, and he went stiff, eyes crossed, sitting upright in his seat. 
“Indeed.” The hare said. “Eyes on the board, please.”
“Yes, Sir,” came the responses - this time the seal was a little more in time. More work would need to be done.
The Velvet Dean’s free paw was inside the pocket of his waistcoat, and he pressed a small button on a remote hidden within.

The board seemed to shift and shimmer, as though it was changing from firm to something more gelatinous. It seemed to spiral, erupting with colour, the tentacled creature’s body shifting in shades like a cuttlefish.

None of the students noticed the 3-D projector hidden in the ceiling, the only modern concession in the austere classroom- their hypnotised minds blocked it out. Likewise, their mesmerised state of mind made them believe, totally and utterly, that they could not look away from the board. That they were helplessly hypnotised by the rippling swirl, and that the tendrils on the screen were taking on dimension, and shape. The projections made it seem like the creature was emerging from the board.

“You see the beast,” the Velvet Dean said as he moved to the corner to observe. “You need to defeat it.”
“We need to…” the orca and the harpy-eagle moved to stand first - muscle memory kicking in. The Velvet Dean pressed another button, and the projection picked up speed, the tentacles lashing out to wrap around them. Their minds believed it, and their bodies complied, their arms suddenly bound to their sides as they squirmed and growled.
The tentacles lashed at the other startled heroes, ‘grabbing’ them and heading straight for their weak points. Their neck, their legs, their arms… and of course, their cocks, already erect inside their shorts.Their flies were unzipped, as always, so their shafts slipped into view - each one capped with a tight white cone, like a dunce cap on their heads. Ensuring that nothing would escape.
“Fight back, now. Try to escape. Even though you know escape is futile.”

Each of the six showed a little individuality in their escape attempts, but they all failed in their own way. The raccoon soon found himself writhing on his back, struggling against illusory tentacles as his neck squeezed and his cock jumped. The hare reached a ‘free’ hand out towards him with a lunge, trying to croak out a name that he had already forgotten. The other four surrounded the pair, cocks throbbing and hips bucking.
“NNgh… c-can’t… hold it…!” The seal moaned. “G-gotta…”
“W…wait…!” the hare moaned as the shared hallucination pressed him and the short racc against each other. The four standing heroes were pulled in tightly, the harpy eagle being the first to squawk as a hands-free orgasm hit him hard, the cap falling off of his cock with the first jet of cum. As the dean manipulated their projected fantasies, the avian moaned with deep embarrassment.
“S-sorry…!” he gasped, envisioning himself painting both his friends with seed. The others soon followed in a dream-like state, painting the brown fur of the two trapped ‘heroes’ with their seed. 
“S…so good…” the hare moaned in spite of himself, trying to catch cum in his mouth without quite understanding why.

The swirling eye of the beast bore down on them, and their eyes were all drawn towards it as they continued to writhe against the imaginary molestation.
The Velvet Dean smiled as he watched. Only a few minutes in and they were already climaxing for the first time. This was an excellent sign for their further conditioning.
In this state, it would be easy to introduce the lesson, the mantra they would each write out at least a hundred times.
He spoke, his voice a distant dream to his pupils. They barely heard it, or noticed the sadistic smile in his voice.
“Heroism is futile. Obedience is natural.”
Once they were finished with their schooling and released to their guardians, those phrases would be the only things on their lips.

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