The following day, Vic returned to the classroom dressed in what appeared to be his normal clothes, but with a back pack slung over his shoulder.

The instant he crossed the threshold, Vic dropped his back pack and yanked off his sleeveless gray sweatshirt to reveal the bib and buckles of his overalls. He kicked off his shoes and went barefoot. He then unzipped his back pack, pulled out his straw hat and put it on.

Vic despised his costume and the implanted suggestion that compelled him to keep it on, particularly whenever he knew he'd be in the presence of Herbie. He was at least somewhat grateful there had been no command to wear the bumpkin outfit 24/7, even when out in public. The worst of it for Vic was that as soon as he was shirtless, barefoot, and in his overalls and straw hat, he felt a sense of completion. As if this were how he was meant to be. He did his best to shrug off the feeling and walked the rest of the way into the classroom. He only made it three feet inside.

Vic stared at the classroom, or rather what it had now become. Herbie had transformed the room into a veritable barnyard, using scene flats (probably pilfered from the theater department's scene shop), hay bails, chicken wire, and sawdust. All around the room, the six hypnotized boys strutted about on their haunches, barefoot, shirtless, and bumpkinized, bucking and clucking like chickens. And looking as happy as Vic had ever seen them.

Herbie was busy manning his equipment, and this time that did not mean his opaque hypnotic projector. He had three video cameras set up around the room, capturing the entire scene from different angles. Not a moment of these boys' humiliation would go unchronicled. Herbie was currently busy behind the center camera, with which he was focusing on tight close-ups of each of his chickens in turn.

Vic was tempted to turn and run, both because he really didn't want to be subjected to the ongoing degradation of these six boys of whom he was growing increasingly fond--and because the more his fellow hypnotized chickens continued their avian behavior, the more of affinity he felt for them, and the more he felt a growing compulsion to squat down with hands in armpits and join them. Vic began to back up, attempting to slip back out of the classroom (Herbie's wrath over his absence be damned), when Vic felt his enormous erection tenting the front of his soft overalls.

Vic looked down and saw his arousal before he truly felt it. But that was not long in coming. Something came over Vic at that moment, making his head feel light. He could swear that he could feel his heart beating so strongly inside his chest that it pushed out against his denim bib. Vic looked at Jamie, his blond hair protruding from beneath the brim of straw hat, his eyes shining with so much innocence and good intentions. Jamie had a better build than his usual baggy clothes let on, which his bare, flapping arms revealed quite nicely. Vic saw Acker, whose strong chest stretched out his overalls bib and begged to be touched. Acker's smile was so bright and full, even as he clucked like an idiot, that it almost lit up the room. Vic gazed at Carson, who was easily the tallest of the group. His bobbing head and jerking elbows looked ridiculous, but his muscular frame, his powerful legs, and his penetrating eyes made Vic want to jump down onto the floor and kiss him. Beside Carson, the comedic Rickie was completely lost in his role as a human fowl. Vic had never found Rickie all that attractive, but his good humor radiated from him, and his boyish face projected a playfulness that made Vic's penis twitch. Vic's eyes fell upon Coffee and Bry, a couple so perfectly made for each other. Both of them were so adorable, so clean and wholesome. Coffee with his deep brown eyes and Bry with his fresh-scrubbed face made Vic ache to fuck the both of them.

Vic's head reeled. He couldn't believe he was losing his self control over a roomful of college boys acting like chickens. Involuntarily, Vic reached down and began to stroke himself through his overalls. He wore no underwear, as per Herbie's instructions, so he could feel the soft, gentle brush of the cotton overalls against his warm, pulsing member. Vic took in a ragged breath that caught in his throat. His fingers felt a dab of wetness upon his pants as his penis dripped precum. God, he couldn't just let himself whack off right here while watching these poor boys. Worse, in front of Herbie...

Vic felt the only ways he could prevent giving in to this bizarre fetish that was clouding his mind was either to make a run for it (which no longer seemed an option, as his legs were locked in place), or to join his fellow chickens. Trembling slightly, Vic sighed as he let his legs bend at the knees. Slowly, he allowed his knuckles to curve upward toward his armpits. He was on the verge of tears even as he felt his erection throb and press against his loose-fitting farm pants. At least as a brainless chicken, he wouldn't be able to play with himself over this perverted barnyard charade. He wouldn't drop that final degree into personal degradation. Vic realized that he had to surrender and become like the helpless chickens, or get off on their plight and become like Herbie. No choice at all.

"Vic!"

Victor's rear had almost come to rest on his heels as he assumed the chicken posture when Herbie's voice snapped him out of it. "Vic, c'mon over here!" Herbie waved Vic over to him, acting less like the dominating master he'd been of late and more like his old friend. The summons jarred Vic out of his state of surrender and he straightened up and walked over to Herbie, making his way around the edge of the room to avoid the strutting of the chicken boys.

"Was wondering when you'd get your ass here", Herbie said.

"I'm sorry if I'm a bit late, sir", Vic began.

Herbie waved the apology away. "Whatever, whatever. Forget it. I just wanted to show you--" he paused, rethinking that remark. "--well, I just wanted to show somebody my latest advancement. Dig it." Herbie held up a small yellow toy chick between two fingers. It was the kind found in novelty shops, particularly around Easter time. The body of the chick was soft faux down, but the underside was a plastic strip with a heat sensitive meter. Resting the chick in your hand, it begins to chirp when your body heat registers on it's meter. Vic looked at it, not sure what to make of it.

"Um, I think those have already been invented, Herb."

Herbie looked at Vic with distaste. "Not just the toy, idiot. Watch what I do with it." Herbie rested the tiny chick in his palm. Within ten seconds, it began to chirp. As the chirp sounded, a change came over the clucking and scratching boys. They all froze in place at the sound, each stopped in mid-motion like a broken film strip. But only for a second. In the next instant, Herbie let go of the toy chick and they reverted to being college boys. But they were college boys with ravenous gay sexual appetites.

Jamie was quickly tackled lovingly by Acker. He rolled Jamie onto a hay bail and unbuttoned his fly, reaching in and aggressively jerking Jamie off, much to the blond boy's delight. Rickie had similar designs on Carson's crotch, only he had pulled Carson's member out and was slowly and attentively sucking it. Carson ran his fingers through Rickie's hair, sliding them back and forth under Rickie's straw hat. Coffee and Bry were wrestling together in the crook of one of the barn flats, groping one another with abandon. They truly looked like two farm boys having a roll in the hay. After a few moments, Coffee unfastened Bry's bib and tossed the straps over his shoulders, giving Bry full access to his dick. Bry then unbuckled Coffee's bib straps and flipped him over onto his stomach, massaging Coffee's ass and preparing to enter him from behind.

Vic watched in fascination and horror as the boys went from adorable chicks to amorous chickens. Herbie glanced at Vic, saw he'd gotten the reaction he wanted, then held his hand out in front of Vic's face. Herbie placed the toy chick back into his palm and the chirping sound filled the room again. It took a moment or two longer to register this time, most likely due to the increased concentration in what they were doing, but the boys heard the chirping trigger and froze again. Acker froze in mid-stroke while yanking on Jamie's cock. Rickie froze with his open mouth only a fraction of inch over Carson's penis, which remained held in its erection. Bry was caught in mid-thrust just as he was about to plow into his boyfriend Coffee from behind. Herbie looked at Vic, who stared at the sight with slack jaw and an expression of disbelief.

Herbie then let go of the peep chick, tossing it blithely to one side, and the six boys were once again transformed into chickens. Without doing anything to adjust themselves, the hypnotized boys returned to their respective haunches and began bucking and clucking as if they'd never been interrupted. But it was blatantly obvious that they had, as Jamie's penis still hung firmly from his open fly, as did Carson's massive erection, and both Coffee and Bry clucked about with their bibs and buckled straps flopping around them as they moved.

Herbie picked up the chick toy by the head and showed it to Vic. "Complete. Control." He sneered, adding, "I've finally got these beautiful little freshmen exactly where I want them. They can be real chickens. Or I can make them gay chickens. Their lives. My decision." Herbie watched as the boys went about their business acting like happy farm birds. "It's beautiful, isn't it? But this has to be just the beginning, man. Six to start is fine, but I've gotta have more. The question is, do we expand our six nuggets to a nine-piece meal? A dozen eggs? Or maybe a fifteen-piece family size bucket?"

Vic could feel himself quiver with the fear of Herbie's growing addiction to controlling others. With a quake in his voice, he said very quietly, "Herbie, please, I really have to ask you, as your best frien--"

Herbie cut him off, waving the toy chick right under Vic's nose. "Want to see if this will work on you? I can make it, you know. With the right trigger." Vic swallowed hard, feeling a tremendous lump in his throat. Herbie's eyes were penetrating and hard. "These guys here", he went on, darting a quick glance in the direction of his makeshift barnyard, "have absolutely no clue what they're doing. Clucking, fucking, it's all the same to them. They're caught in their own little world."

And Herbie's eyes seemed to grow darker. "But you. For you, it might be more fun to have you aware of everything you were made to do. You'd just have no will to stop it. Humiliating yourself as a chicken, sucking off some kid--off you'd go, all consciousness, no control. Sound like fun?"

Vic held his breath and swallowed again. Very slightly, he shook his head. "...no, sir..."

Herbie shrugged, pocketing the toy chick. "Well then, maybe we won't do that. Not today." Herbie watched the clucking boys through his video camera, most still very exposed, which he found even more arousing. Vic stood by in silence, afraid to move or make a sound. Then, Herbie said, "You can go if you'd like, Chicken Victor. I won't be needing you for the rest of this session."

Vic nodded, feeling relieved at being spared the fate his of enthralled fowl brethren, feeling ashamed of himself for feeling that way. He navigated the outskirts of the classroom again, avoiding both the chickenized boys and the view of the cameras. At the door, Vic bent over to pick up his shirt and shoes as he made his exit. Herbie's voice stopped him just as he touched the doorknob.

"What was it you wanted to ask me, anyway?"

The question made Vic grow warm, and it was not due to any kind of hypnosis ray. Herbie knew damn well that Vic was trying to ask his friend to put a stop to his experiment. He merely wanted to rub in the fact that Vic could never say it. Inwardly, Vic fumed, outraged at his own impotence in being able to stop Herbie's rampage. If this continued, no good-looking frosh would be safe from Herbie's gay transformation ray. But Vic knew that he was powerless, save for the compulsion to further Herbie's demented endeavors.

And right there, Vic stopped.

Slowly, he turned to face Herbie, who stood towering over the helpless chickens of his makeshift hypnotized coop. The two former best friends made eye contact. Herbie's eyes flashed with malice, Victor's with a soft compassion and newly discovered understanding. Their gaze lingered long enough for Herbie to wonder what Vic was thinking, when Vic jerked his head toward the doorway.

Before Herbie could wonder if that meant what he thought it did, Vic turned and walked to the door. Once at the door, he put his hand on the knob and looked back at Herbie. With one hand, he jerked four fingers inward, signaling Herbie to join him in the hallway.

Herbie watched his friend and newly-inducted slave leave, his shoes and shirt still in one hand, along with his back pack. He hadn't put his outer clothes back on before going outside. Intrigued, Herbie followed his charge, saying to the six chicken boys, "Carry on, fellas."

In the hallway, Vic stood with his hands in his pockets, his shirt and shoes tossed carelessly onto the floor atop his pack. Herbie looked at him questioningly. "Yeah? Whattaya want?"

"I have a favor to ask."

Herbie frowned, letting the lack of "sir" address slide for the moment. "Like what?"

"I want to be the one to induct some more boys for the experiment. If that's okay, sir."

Herbie paused, uncertain what to make of this. "Why?"

Vic laughed slightly, looking up at the ceiling. "Why? Isn't that what I'm supposed to do? Never speak ill of you, further the experiment? Let's face it, boss, you've got six very well-trained chickens on their way to being flawlessly conditioned as fags."

"I know."

"So, like you just said, are we gonna stop at six?"

Herbie took a step forward. "That's not what I meant. I mean, why would you want to go so far as to suggest that? You were against me mind-controlling these cute freshmen from the start. Do you honestly expect me to believe you've done a 180 all of a sudden?"

"It's not all of a sudden, Herb. It's been a slow progression, and I'm tired of fighting it." Herbie hooked his thumbs in his pockets, shuffled his bare feet on the tile floor. "Like I could lie to you, anyway."

Herbie still wasn't convinced. "Just to be on the safe side." Herbie pressed his thumb to Vic's forehead, and uttered the phrase, "Chicken Vic, speak only the truth to me, at all times, no exceptions."

Vic's head jerked back a bit, his eyelids fluttered and he inhaled sharply. He felt the rush of the reinforced control washing over him, a little more of his own willpower being stripped away. As humiliating as it was, he felt a rush of sheer pleasure come with the domination, and he felt himself get an erection.

Herbie let go of Vic's forehead, and Vic's head nodded forward. Vic reached up and touched the spot of his brow that was still warm from Herbie's touch. He let out a slow breath, and let his hand slip upward from his brow to adjust his straw hat.

"Now let's try it again", Herbie said, crossing his arms. "Why do you want to help me recruit more boys now?"

Vic locked eyes with Herbie, his expression resolute. "Because it's time. Not even so much for them or the experiment, but it's time for me."

"Explain."

Vic took a step back, his arms spread out wide at his sides, taking a slow turn with wide steps. "Look at me, Herbie! Look at what you've reduced me to! I look like a hayseed, I fall to my haunches in supplication to you--someone who, before all this hypnosis business, whose ass I could've kicked without breaking a sweat--and you forced me to live up to the fact that I am a great, big, undeniable fag who has been cowardly hiding out in the closet."

Unconsciously, Herbie uncrossed his arms. He wasn't prepared for this level of honesty, this kind of cutting self-deprecation. "Go on."

"I will. Right now I gotta admit, I am embarrassed as hell to be seen like this. Shoeless, undignified, ridiculed. I mean, you like the hat?" Vic flipped the brim of the wild bird's nest atop his head, making Herbie grin slightly. Vic took a step forward, coming up nearly chest-to-chest with Herbie. "But I swear, I feel more honest, more true to myself, more...God help me...more complete like this", and he pressed his hands to his bibbed chest, "than I have ever felt in my entire life."

Herbie blinked, a bit overwhelmed. Vic turned around, pointing toward the door to the classroom filled with clucking hypnotized freshmen. "You may have taken something away from them. You may have turned them into something they're not. But you gave me something back. You helped me see myself for who I really, truly am."

Vic's hands dangled at his sides, as if he didn't know what to do with them. While he searched for his next words, he traced the straps of his bibs with his thumbs, then reached behind him to put his palms in his back pockets, found only the drop-seat flap, let his arms hang loose at his sides again. He swallowed, regaining his voice.

Looking at Herbie, Vic said, "Maybe I am just a slave right now. Maybe I am a stupid hillbilly or a brainless chicken." Herbie opened his mouth to say something, and Vic moved quickly forward, preventing him. "And maybe that's okay. Maybe that's what I'm meant to be right now, where my head's supposed to be at. I don't know, but it feels right. It really does." And he lowered his chin, as well as his voice. "But you made me realize one very important thing. I'm gay, Herb. I really am and I always have been. And I know damn well that is what I'm supposed to be."

Herbie didn't know what to say. He had not expected any kind of turnaround in his slave at all, much less one as heartfelt and total as this. He began to respond to Vic's outpouring of sincerity, when Herbie's eyes darted down the side hallway, widening at the sight of someone approaching.

Vic turned his head to see where Herbie was looking, and saw two lovely young coeds coming down the corridor, arms loaded down with books. Herbie reached out to take Vic by the arm and deftly slip him back into the classroom, concealing him behind the closed door. Before he could make contact, Vic stepped right out into the middle of the hallway.

"Mornin', ladies! Lovely day for study and all that, huh?"

The girls paused for a minute, not sure what to make of the clearly out-of-place bumpkin in the middle of the ivory halls of higher learning. They exchanged nervous glances, then simply giggled and walked around him.

"Hope you have a great day, darlin's! You're looking quite beautiful, ma'ams!" Vic tossed off a friendly wave, and the girls picked up their pace, muttering playful remarks about Huckleberry Finn.

Herbie was shocked. "Don't you give a shit that they just saw you??"

Vic spun on his heel, back to face his master, all smiles. "Why should I? This is who I am now! This is me! Fuck anybody who can't accept that."

Herbie twisted his mouth to one side, biting his lip. "So this whole endeavor to recruit new boys for my project is all part of some journey of self-discovery? A noble new beginning?"

Vic shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "Wellll...that, and there are some freshmen boys I spotted earlier this year who are cute as hell and I wouldn't mind fucking." He rocked back and forth on his heels, offering an innocent smile and raised eyebrows.

That, Herbie could accept. Herbie stood as tall as he could, and announced formally, "Victor the Chicken!"

Vic stood at stiff attention, his palms flat to his sides, his bare feet together. "Sir! Yes, sir!"

Herbie grinned. "Go recruit me some boys."

"With pleasure, sir." Herbie patted Vic on the shoulder and walked back to the classroom door. Vic stooped over and picked up his back pack, shirt and shoes. He turned to make his way down the hallway just as he was, without camouflaging his outfit. Halfway down the hall, he stopped. He turned, and called back to Herbie.

"Hey, Herb!"

Herbie stuck his head back out into the hallway. Vic just looked at him for a moment, then said, "Herbie, could you look at me for a second? Not as my master, or my controller or anything, but as the guy who used to be my best friend. Could you just do that for a second?"

Herbie wasn't sure what Vic was getting at, but he nodded, taking in the sight of the slim, muscled farmboy before him. Then, with lowered voice that ached with sincerity, Vic said, "Thanks, man. For helping me come into my own. Methods aside, I can't tell you what you've done for me." Vic's eyes appeared to moisten and he sniffed, licked his lips. "Thank-you."

Herbie simply gave him a curt nod, clearly uncomfortable by the open show of affection and gratitude. Quickly, he ducked back into the class. Vic heard the door lock behind him. Turning back to leave, Vic caught his reflection in the window of a door leading to another corridor. He paused, taking in the sight of himself as a stupid hick. He let his belongings drop from his hand to the floor and stood there admiring his comical image.

And Vic smiled. A wide, self-assured smile of a beautiful young man who's found his place in the world. To his reflection, Vic whispered, "I really have found myself. Now I know exactly who I am and what I have to do." He snatched up his things and made his way quickly to the stairwell leading to the outside world. "And I have you to thank for it, Master Herbie."

He sprinted barefoot and shirtless down two flights before quickly yanking back on his sweatshirt and shoes and hiding his hat in his bag.