Cherrywood: Reaching Out

by Cordial Knot

This story is set in Dan’s Cherrywood universe. All credit for the Cherrywood concept goes to Dan. Go to http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Cordial_Knot/www/dan.html to read the original Cherrywood story and others he has written.

*********************************************************

Greg was one of the bus drivers working for Cherrywood Middle School. It was early afternoon right now and he was taking the seventh grade girls soccer team to their first away game of the season. The game was at a small nearby town by the name of Werrington. Being so close to each other, the Cherrywood Cheetahs and the Werrington Wolves had a long-standing rivalry. They fought like cats and dogs, so to speak. Greg wasn’t interested in the rivalry. His instructions, delivered as usual via email, set different priorities in his mind. Greg had been a resident of Cherrywood for years. His two sons and his daughter had spent almost all of their lives in the town. Naturally, the members of Greg’s family had long ago accepted their place in the community. Bringing his mind back to the present, Greg glanced in the rearview mirror.

Now, most buses filled with fifteen middle school girls would be noisy to the point of unbearable. Luckily, the Council had considered everything when they had founded Cherrywood. Every bus at every school was high-end, something that was pointed out to all prospective families. The busses included comfortable padded seats, air conditioning, and, most importantly, small TV screens mounted to the ceiling every few rows. It was these screens that held the girls’ attention as Greg looked back at them. Greg couldn’t see the screens of course, but he knew from experience that they were filled with a captivating mix of shifting colors and flickering images.

The girls were either twelve- or thirteen-years-old. Their minds were still developing and would have been hard-pressed to resist the mesmerizing patterns at the best of times. But these girls, raised in Cherrywood, were conditioned every day, at school and at home, to be receptive to the mind control techniques that pervaded the town. They stared at the tiny screens without a glimmer of intelligence but that didn’t stop them from smiling wide with the pleasure of obedience. Or maybe it was the pleasure they were creating between their legs. Greg couldn’t see from this vantage point but he could tell from the rise and fall of their shoulders that all the girls were masturbating in sync.

When playing in soccer games, boys and girls from Cherrywood schools are not allowed to wear underwear beneath their shorts. It gives them easier access to themselves in situations like this. Once the video had begun, the obedient girls simply reached under the elastic waistband of their black shorts and began to play with themselves.

Before Greg returned his attention to the road, his eyes fell on his own daughter, Mira. She was gazing at the little screen above her, her face washed with the colors shining at her, and a little trail of drool was making its way down to her chin. Greg was glad that Mira was having fun. Spending time together like this was a great bonding experience for the whole team. He knew that his sons, Cole and Tyler, enjoyed similar times with the boys soccer team.

Keeping his eyes on the road, Greg switched on his headset. Now, when he spoke, his words would emanate from the TV sets. His voice would become a part of the pattern and would be obeyed by the enthralled girls. This particular command was already embedded into the patterns that the girls were watching so detailed instructions were unnecessary.

“Switch.”

Instantly, the girls pulled their soaked hands out of their uniforms. Still staring blankly at the screens above them, each girl reached over and slipped a hand down the shorts of the girl sitting next to her on the bench seat. Now every girl was fingering (and being fingered by) a partner. Tiny mews of happiness escaped from some of the girls. Even though they could be easily aroused on their own, these girls had been trained to be more stimulated if they were pleasured by someone else. Greg supposed it must be some sort of team building thing.

Greg let this go on for a few minutes. Most of the girls didn’t climax, although a few of the younger ones did. As they became more experienced, they would learn how to let an orgasm build and maintain it for as long as possible. Finally, Greg gave another preset command.

“Faster.”

A few of the girls were on a hair-trigger so, when their partners suddenly started rubbing them faster, they lost control and cried out as they climaxed. The bus was quickly filled with girls in the throes of ecstasy, still trying to finger their partners.

“Rest.”

This order overrode all previous commands. The girls sank back in their seats, still twitching a little with fading orgasms, and returned their full attention to the hypnotic screens. A while later, when the girls had calmed down and their shorts were more or less dry, Greg cued up the exit loop on the screens. The team was slowly brought up out of their trance and their personalities reasserted themselves. The bus was now filled with girls giggling and talking with each other about shopping, boys, and all the other things so important to young girls.

*********************************************************

Coach Patterson waited for his team in the locker room that the Werrington Wolves had allotted for visiting teams. He had driven up early to make sure that he had the necessary equipment prepared to fulfill his orders from the Council.

Cherrywood always performed very well in competitions with other schools. Other coaches would ask him, only half-jokingly, what made his players work so well together. Always before Coach Patterson had smiled and shrugged off the probing questions. But the Council had changed his orders today. Today, after the Cheetahs defeated the Wolves, which was very likely, he would offer to show the Wolves his team’s training video. It would be a cautious first step towards finding new families to join the Cherrywood community.

Technically speaking, videos like the one he would show to the Wolves could actually be attributed to the Cheetahs’ success. Skill was only half the game. Coach Patterson’s girls worked well together because they were trained to love and depend on one another. Their training gave them the confidence and happiness to play to the best of their ability.

*********************************************************

The halftime whistle screeched and both teams withdrew from the field. The Werrington girls hung their heads dejectedly. They were already losing to Cherrywood 3 to 1. Coach Patterson congratulated the girls for playing so well in the first half. He encouraged them to keep up the good work and reminded them to wait for him in the locker room after the game was over. The girls all smiled brightly and began talking amongst themselves. Coach Patterson walked quickly over to the other side of the field. Before halftime was over, he had gotten Coach Moore to agree to bring his girls to the Cheetahs’ locker room for a demonstration of Coach Patterson’s winning strategy.

*********************************************************

Coach Moore followed his team to the visitors’ locker room. The Wolves had played better the second half, but it still irked his pride that the Cheetahs had won by four points. Of course, losing like this was one of the reasons that Coach Moore was so willing to see what Coach Patterson did to help his girls work together so well. Coach Patterson had been off-handedly asking about Patterson’s methods for almost two years without success.

By the time Coach Moore reached the locker room, everyone else was already seated on the floor. Cheetahs and Wolves were sitting side by side, the Wolves a little resentfully, all facing a very large TV that Coach Patterson must have brought over from Cherrywood.

Motivational tapes? Coach Moore guessed. Or clips from past games so they know how to improve?

Coach Patterson stepped out from behind the TV, where he had apparently fiddling with some controls. “Now, I invited the Wolves here so they could learn one of the secrets of our success. Is everyone here?”

Everyone nodded. The Cherrywood girls, Coach Moore noticed, were leaning forward eagerly. He himself slouched back against the wall to watch the screen from over the heads of the two teams. He couldn’t believe that Coach Patterson would just give away the so-called ‘secret to his success’ but, after all, this was only the middle school level.

“Here we go.” Coach Patterson pressed a button on the back of the TV and the video began to play.

Odd, Coach Moore thought, there’s some static on the screen.

*********************************************************

Coach Patterson watched the watchers, standing safely next to the screen. Now was not the time for him to go under as well. He relished the expressions on the faces of the slaves, old and new. In fact, more than once he had to resist the temptation to look at the screen and be carried away himself.

The Cherrywood girls sank into a trance first, almost instantly in fact. It made sense, after all this self-contained unit was designed for rapid inductions. The effects could never be as long-lasting as Cherrywood’s normal conditioning, but it was sufficient for short-term use. Anyone used to the repetitive training in Cherrywood, as the Cheetahs were, would lose the fire of their willpower like a burning twig dropped into an ocean. The Werrington girls didn’t last much longer. As Coach Patterson watched them, any confusion or boredom drained from their faces. From their positions on the floor, both groups of middle schoolers stared up dully at the screen which was soaking up their thoughts. Coach Moore was the obvious problem. As an adult man he was already better suited to resist this induction, which was tailored to young girls.

The screen showed little girls playing and having fun, sometimes naked and sometimes not. The basic idea was that girls watching this would naturally want to have as much fun as the girls in the video. There was obviously much more to it than that: the results of hundreds of mind control experiments went into generating the subtle static and the tones playing at the edge of human hearing.

Ultimately, it was a forgone conclusion. Even Coach Moore was slowly drawn in by the happy girls on the screen. Coach Patterson waited until Moore’s face was as dull as the others’ before reaching behind the TV and turning the dial to the second stage. Now, the onscreen nudity was more overt and the subliminal messages in the video focused everyone’s attention on feeling pleasure, not just bringing them into a trance. There was a collective sigh as all the girls slipped their hands beneath their jerseys and began fingering themselves. Even Coach Moore had reached a hand down his shorts to attend to the tent that had sprung up. Coach Patterson stopped them before anyone got too far.

“Listen everyone,” over two dozen blank faces turned towards the sound of his voice, before returning their eyes to the screen and just listening. “Every girl from Cherrywood will partner with a girl from Werrington and lick her pussy. Werrington girls, keep looking at the TV.”

There was a scuffling sound as fifteen girls tried to find fifteen partners. Coach Patterson watched approvingly as the Cherrywood girls pulled down their partners’ shorts and panties and began lapping at their sweet lips. A few of the Cherrywood girls were a little too far gone and couldn’t think enough to pull down the clothes. Instead, they tried to stuff their heads down their partners’ shorts, which did not work out well. After helping those girls, Coach Patterson took stock of the room.

All around, little girls were crying out. Most Werrington girls had leaned back onto their elbows so that they could watch the screen while they spread their legs wide for their partners, happy smiles on their otherwise blank faces. The Cherrywood girls lay flat on the concrete floor, their heads buried between another girl’s thighs, and gave their full attention to stimulating the Werrington girls.

Coach Patterson looked up and saw that Coach Moore was still staring blankly at the TV, having heard no command that applied to him. Now, the coaches got along well with each other whenever they met, so Coach Patterson felt guilty that Moore was missing out on the fun. He scanned the floor of quivering bodies and pulled up the bus driver’s daughter. Mira struggled in his grip, trying to get back to pleasuring the Werrington girl lying on the floor.

“Sleepy Cherrywood girl,” Coach Patterson whispered into her ear. It was one of several trigger phrases implanted during the Good Boys and Girls Afterschool Program. It would send any properly conditioned child into a deep trance, in this case overriding the commands of the TV screen.

Mira went limp. Her eyes glazed over and she gave the response, “I am a good girl.”

“I want you to give Coach Moore a blow job. Stay in a trance and follow any other instructions I give.”

He let Mira go. She walked over to Coach Moore with a smile on her face, already beginning to rub herself in anticipation. Coach Moore continued staring at the screen across the room. He didn’t react even when she pulled down his shorts and underwear. Coach Patterson frowned in distaste. Coach Moore had hair in his pubic region. To Coach Patterson’s mind, no cock was worthy until it was shaved and, preferably, had a barcode tattooed above it to mark a man’s servitude. But, entranced as she was, it made no difference to Mira. She gently took his cock in her mouth and began sucking on it.

Coach Patterson returned his attention to the little Werrington girl at his feet. She looked to be about 13, a few years older than his own daughter. Her legs were still spread wide from Mira’s ministrations. Smiling contentedly, Coach Patterson sank to his knees to coax an orgasm from the girl.

Sometime later, Coach Patterson roused himself; his face slick with the girl’s juices. People would start wondering what was taking the girls so long. In short order, Coach Patterson deepened everyone’s trance and instructed them to forget what had happened in the locker room. They would, however, remember the pleasure of obedience.

*********************************************************

Greg walked through the nearly empty halls of Werrington Middle School unquestioned. Now that school was over for the day, it would have been odder to see a student wandering around. Greg had spent the better part of the soccer game in the school’s main office. He would have like to watch Mira play, but orders were orders. After impatiently waiting for the secretary to leave for the day, Greg had picked the lock on the office door. It was a skill taught to all Cherrywood scouts, those responsible for spreading Cherrywood’s influence if necessary.

At Werrington Middle School, every morning, the principal or some other staff member would address the student body through the TV sets mounted in every classroom. Greg had located the room where morning announcements were broadcasted from and installed a new program on its computer. It was one of the most subtle creations used by Cherrywood. Now, overlaying the video stream of the principal would be a faint flicker of static. And her words would have an almost unnoticeable steady tone played over them.

Nothing would happen if the students watched the fifteen minute announcements for a week, or even several. But, over months and months, these middle school students and teachers would grow more suggestible. Devices like the one Coach Patterson had brought would be many times more effective. It was incredibly slow, but the Council thought long-term. These students are the future of Werrington and it suited the Council to have suggestible people in positions of power within the towns surrounding Cherrywood.