This story especially is not meant for youngsters under 18 and might disturb their dreams. If under 18 you must leave immediately.
I got a call today from Professor Insbrook. I hadn't seen him in over a year, since my last year at Oxford. On occasion I assisted him in his work on physiological chemistry. When he worked with the Royal Space Office on devising food supplements for space travelers and high altitude pilots with RAF.
I must say I imbibed oodles of nasty tasting stuff all for science and took piles and quaffs that rattled my brain but I survived.
"Hello Graham, my lad. I want to call on you to help on a small experiment I am perfecting. It could likely develop into something important. You have always been bold in your view. Can you give me a few days."
I agreed. I was well ensconced in my new job with a multi- national food manufacturer as a scientist in their laboratory outside of London, they could do without me for that time.
Insbrook greeted me warmly. I noted a handsome young undergraduate standing nearby and I was introduced to Ian. We proceeded into the lab and we three sat down around a small conference table.
"I will waste no time. I have devised a sleep inducing spray."
I felt that area under my scrotum tighten. The expression 'sleep inducting brought me back to my days at the boarding school.
Whilst Mum and Daddy squabbled during their famous divorce (you probably read all about it back then.) I was shipped off for two years, during the ages 14 to 16 to a little boarding school near Devon called Whitlow School for Boys. This was an old fashioned school run by old fashioned proctors. An example of how mired in the past they were is exemplified in the short night shirts we were required to wear to bed.
I believe the idea was to facilitate bum warming since it required no undressing, just lifting the skirt and our little pink bottoms were made much pinker. Most of my fellow students had no dought that half of the instructors were poofs and this was their way of ogling our young smooth thighs and lower legs as they supervised our nightly wash-ups.
Our sleeping quarters were in a stone building. The upper classmen (over 14) slept on the top floor. There were 20 of us, our cots arranged in two rows of ten each. We slept head to foot. On warm nights I got to stare at the cute feet of the boys on either side of me.
You've heard stories of homosexual activity between boys of that age at this kind of school. I noticed very little, and no sexual activities, although I realized that their were little love crushes going on. I as a blond angel filled fantasies, I believe, for many boys.
It was at Whitlow that I developed my fascination for sleeping boys and I must admit that I took some terrible risks there to satisfy my curiosity and sexual interest. The boys were a raucous lot, sloppy in habits and sometimes cruel to each other to prove their manhood. But at night they became docile and sweet as they surrendered to sleep. They were tired after the full days of class and then rigorous sports. Many of the dears could hardly wash them selves and crawl into bed. Several times I saw lads falling asleep whilst cleaning their teeth, tooth powder fulling down their night shirts.
I would lie in bed awaiting the sleep sounds of night I loved so much. At first their were two boys breathing audibly, then they were joined by others in a sweet, heavenly chorus. Yes, some boys did masturbate before falling asleep but they were very discreet and one could hardly detect this. Naturally the ones who did fell quickly asleep afterward and often snored softly.
Laying in my cot, enjoying the sounds which made me very erected. My penis actually hurt from it strong stiffness. I never wanked in bed because of the mess, but I did slip away into the lavatory to do it. On the way I would pass my sleeping comrades their faces flushed in profound sleep, their boyish mouths open. Sometimes the restless sleeper's bed clothes were tossed off and their night dress slid up over their waist, exposing penises lying against their youthful bellies. On a lucky night I might see their cocks at attention as they were slipping into a nocturnal emission their cocks pouring boy honey on bellies. I noted that their offerings did only spill out rather than shoot like ejaculations.
During the time at the school I became bolder. On my way to the lavatory I would choose a lad who was sleeping on his back and lean over and smell his delicious sleep breath. It was perfume to me. They also had a night smell, that was intensive intimate, as their bodies dampened in profound sleep. I loved the unexpected murmurs and jerks. What dreams they were experiencing I could only fantasize about.
All this early fascination with sleep never left my consciousness but their never appeared another fertile field for enjoying it until...
Insbrook called me. "Hallo Graham, are you with us?"
I apologized for woolgathering. "So sorry, please continue. I think the trip made me drowsy."
Both the Professor and Ian chucked and traded glances. "Well sleep is what we will talk about. This spray produces immediate sleep. But not the falling down kind. No, if the subject is standing, he will become unconscious and remain standing."
"Interesting. "What might this be applied to?"
"Ian has volunteered twice and we determined that it is analgesic and that might be applicable to dentistry. I do not believe it will produce full anesthetic effort for, say, a operation."
I addressed young Ian. "Tell me, were you conscious?"
He spoke in such a young earnest way that I was greatly taken with him. He flushed from our intense listening. "There was nothing...blankness...rather pleasant though. I didn't hear the Professor's voice when he spoke to me but apparently, he said I obeyed a command to open my eyes. Of course I disremember this."
I was quiet a moment. "The important question is the antidote. How do you awaken the subject?"
"Ah, that's the most intriguing element. Although nothing seems to disturb the somnambulist a tiny whiff of pure oxygen will quickly rouse the sleep from the Arms of Morpheus to full consciousness."
"Would it be possible to see a demonstration? I would submit to it but I cannot be observing and be unconscious at the same time."
We both turned toward Ian. He stammered, "I would be glad to volunteer again, I am very interested in the sleep mechanism and I hope I might be present when another person inhales the elixir." He fixed me with his fine light brown eyes and smiled slightly. Could it be that I have discovered another person obsessed with boy's asleep.
Insbrook handed me a small tube. He instructed Ian to remain seated. "Just keep it away from yourself. I only takes a minute droplet. We have determined this."
He went into the back of the lab to get a cup of tea. I approached Ian. He smiled at me. "I am not trepidations about surrendering to you Graham, but please when you remember this, and you will, please be kind."
We both laughed at the line from "Tea and Sympathy." I brandished the vial. Brought it close to Ian's handsome nose and pressed once. Immediately the light went out from his eyes though they stayed open. His complection, I thought, became a bit paler. I touched his firm muscled forearm. It felt cool, perhaps cooler than normal. I really wished to stroke it, but I retrained myself. Insbrook was still occupied with the tea pot. I leaned forward and kissed Ian. He had a beautiful small mouth with a curvy upper lip. I could have sworn that he returned the kiss. It suggested to me that there was some sort of suggestibility involved. Sometime to pursue later.
I took his head in my hands as the Professor returned to room and took up the tiny cannister of oxygen and released a small amount under the boy's nose.
Almost immediately his eyes became bright and he broke into a large smile. "How was it?" I asked.
"No memory of anything, it was delightful as the two previous times. Would you like to go under and be in my power now??
"Not right now." I didn't confess to him that although I was fascinated with sleepers, I had an abhorrence of being helpless.
We chatted a while, the shadows of late afternoon had begun to make the laboratory spooky, like something from a horror film. I was really tired now. I planned on staying at a local Inn, The Game Cock, in town but when Ian heard that he blurted, "Graham, I stay here on the top floor of Chemistry Hall, I have room for a guest, please use my facility." (I, on my part wondered if that was a double entendre from the handsome whelp.)
I agreed and soon we were in the lift, heading for Ian's flat. He opened the heavy door, "It had been a storeroom but I fixed it up. After all, I'll be in residence here for four years."
"It's really nice." I noticed two folding couches now closed, a display of empty beer cans glued into a sculpture. Ian was a clever one. He reached for my case, held out his hands in a gesture for me to divest myself of my jacket, pushed me down gently to a sitting position on the couch and said, "Beer?"
In awhile we were chatting as if I were a fellow undergraduate, the beer loosening our tongues. "Insbrook talks very highly about you. I only hope to be able to fill your shoes here." Then suddenly changing the subject, he said, "I know you have this brilliant job and all but you still look like an undergraduate like me."
"Undergraduates never looked as good as you."
We lapsed into silence and I spoke first. "Ian, I want to say that I am not sure that I am the one for this project. I will be able to analyze the commercial and military uses and possible cautions but I am temperamentally the wrong person for the job."
I began telling him about my prurient interest in sleeping boys. About my adventures during those two years at school.
I grew excited and flushed talking. Ian smiled at me. "I see it gets you really up Graham." He pointed at the risen hill in my pants. He reached out and rubbed it. "Oh my, this is a problem to be solved. May I?"
"Didn't you take a chance asked that?"
"Not in the least. Insbrook has a pych. profile of you on his hard disk. Hard disk, well named. Shall we?"
As he bent toward me I extracted the Professor's vial of the magic Japanese Sandman's dust and quickly placed it under Ian's nose. He froze where he was, he faced changing from a mature lad about to make a gay pass to become an innocent schoolboy. I enhanced the image by pushing his ginger colored hair forward. Now we have a lower grader.
He was my better than inflatable boy doll to play with. I knew I had an hour before he would naturally awaken. Quickly I slipped his blouse over his head. Oh, the boy was a footballer, I think, strong muscles were displayed giving lie to his bookish demeanor. I passed a finger over one pink nub, the large corolla hardly contrasted with the surrounding smooth pink flesh until it crinkled in awakening. I lifted his arm. His hidden store of arm pit hair nestled in reddish perfection. I leaned in close, my nose actually getting wet from the moisture there, formed as he slept with great serious face, as if it was a problem to solved.
I tried now a command. Reading the notes I had decided that only a small portion of the brain was asleep and the more basic instincts were in tact. "Slip off your pants." He automatically went into familiar, for him, motions and in a moment, except for his trainers, he was totally naked. What a beauty. I had to remember to breathe, else I would have fainted.
I leaned down and inhaled his pubic hair, growing full and wild from one hip to the other. I found this very sexy. The fragrance was fabulous, earthy with a note of ammonia. His friendly organ was half filling with blood, the hood still covering the glans, but as I licked the surface it began to wake up and arise. I was astounded at the size. This was one of those cocks which appeared small but became prodigious when arosed.
I leaned my head on the boy's stomach, the better to reach the cock now tight against it. I slipped my lips around it and suckled gently. In his profound sleep he reached his hands and caressed my head. I thought to myself that he had done this enough times to have established that gesture. I also detected a slight murmuring sound as the good feelings I was engendering began to seep into his sub-consciousness.
I was in full passion but something stopped me from continuing. This was too one sided and the word necrophilia rose into my brain. I stopped, ordered him to dress, set him upright on the couch and stepped away to the other side of the room as if to get another beer, but first, quickly passing the tiny vial of oxygen under his nose.
I watched him. He blinked, than smiled sleepily. It was all I could do not to rush at him in passion. He was beyond cute. He waggled his finger, "You outed me, I mean you put me out, and I think you diddled a bit with me while I was asleep. My cock feels as if it had some attention but is unfulfilled. What say we continue this. I feel a great overwhelming need to be fucked."
I moved across the room, put my beer down and stood in front of him. He opened my flies and reached inside. "What have we got here? A nice fat pink cigar. I think I'll take a drag on it." He pursed his delectable lips and kissed the tip. My sock lurched in appreciation. He revealed the prettiest tongue I ever saw, long, wide and shiny pink. He lapped on the side, then the front, then whirled it inside my foreskin. I began to sag. "Whoa Graham, hold on, that's just a prevue, you have to be strong for the whole performance."
He had me up to a full erection. My cock was jumping with my heart beat. He undressed rapidly and lifted his strong legs, holding them with his muscular arms, exposing his hole, gorgeously ringed with golden hair. The ring was pulsating. "Hurry babe, I feel as empty as the Euro-Tunnel." I moved forward and he reached for a bottle of fuck oil on the table and sprayed my cock just before I touched his hole. "Oh yeah, this is what I've been awating all afternoon since seeing you Graham. You are the sexiest bastard I've ever seen. Those long dark lashes and full mouth, not to mention that tall lean body. Come on now, be bold, push in.:
I found once the rather large head of my penis cleared his sphincter it was clear sailing. All his prattle soon converted to mindless grunts and cries. I began to drop to lowest part of my brain as my animal natural took over. I gloried in watching Ian's handsome face become almost pained and furrowed as intense feelings rocketed his body. I thrilled that I could do that to him. I sped up. I now was sliding constantly over his love button and each time he would cry out. I knew the culmination was fast approaching for both of us and he suddenly opened his eyes as if in alarm, his mouth agape in a soundless scream as his fat cock vibrated and made a small offering on his belly, then followed by a long stream and another, finally smaller spurts each one making him grunt with passion. I had stopped moving as his orgasm hit so that he could enjoy it. When he could open his eyes he said hoarsely, "Babe go for your cum. Go. Go." I needed no other encouragement, my cock was harder than I ever remembered. I pulled back almost out and then slammed in. I did that ten times whilst Ian was pushed back and forth. Suddenly I stiffened and cried out, "I'm about to hose you." And it came, I almost passed out as if I had taken the professor's elixir as I pumped and cried out and pumped again. At last I fell on the beautiful boys stomach covered with his jizz. It took minutes before I could get my weak legs to hold me up.
"Good show," said Ian. A few more practice sessions and I think you'll get it."
We cleaned up in his tiny shower, both enjoying the close quarters and enjoying soaping each other. I told him that I found some hidden interesting places on his body that we must explore.
Dinner in the dining hall left both of us feeling revived. Ian seemed impatient with me as I am a slow eater. "Let's get back upstairs, you have to do work on your laptop and I have work on your lap," Ian whispered charmingly. I began to feel a little lengthening of my dickey.
I kept him at bay as I quickly jotted my conclusions about the drug. I pointed out that it could, in the wrong hands, be the ultimate rape drug (as I well knew) that it's use for dentistry is a possibility but that would mean wide distribution which is worrisome. Finally the military use was problematical as it might affect our troops as well as the enemy.
I just about finished the long report when Ian came close to me. He touched my cheek. I smiled up at him. And then I...
All was a kind of warm pleasant gray fog. It was so nice to surrender to it. Finally, in what seemed only a minute, I shook my head. Ian, totally naked was standing before me. I looked down, I was nude as well. "Eh Sir, did you have ye way with me whilst I was in me bed?"
"Yes, you tasty pastry. You should sleep well tonight, naturally, fully sexually sated."
"Sorry I wasn't awake to enjoy it, but I do feel nice as post sexual. What did you do?"
"Well I started off by getting you good and hard. Then I turned my tongue into a prick and fucked your hole. You loved it and squirmed happily. Then I replaced it with my cock. I was plenty lubed and very careful. Your ass really wanted it. You rocked and pushed and gave me a new sideways motion. It was brilliant. You are a natural bottom in spite of your dominant conscious personality. Incidentally, that was the last of the potion. We have to get more from the Professor."
But the profession has no more and he had failed to exactly note the complicated mixture. I understand he had tried many times to duplicate it with no luck. Ian and I live together in London and he often said that being awake beats sleep fucking. But I still love to watch his face at night as he breathes so sweetly and seriously.
End. I tried as a lark to approximate British writing. I have no doubt that I made a mess of it and that you Brits are laughing but I point out those awful pseudo American accents when you English play an American thug.