The Stranger chronicles

Camping?

Once again, a lonely boy, minding his own business, falls for the Stranger.

His will and power had been spreading quite quickly.

It had even started to hit the news.

Boys, and men, disappearing on a global scale. As well as the last people to see them forgetting they ever existed.

These men have ranged from the legal age of the country they were taken from, to roughly mid-fifties. All fit. All attractive. All different sexualities, races, ages. But all men. Never women.

But that didn't stop him going out. He didn't care. He was an explorer. He was always camping, sailing, climbing.

So when his friends told him about this one particular forest, he knew he had to go camping.

It was his sixth night. All had gone well. No one had tried to kidnap him.... yet.

He walked outside, stretching, he pulled on his jeans, as he then kneeled down. He picked up his checked shirt, un-wrapping it. He sighs, taking in the smell of pine.

He pulled his shirt on, reaching round to do up his shirts buttons. That was until he couldn't move, his fingers frozen in place, barely grasping his shirt, the wind causing it to slip from his grasp.

He hears a chuckle fro, the side of his tent, he tries to turn to look, only for his neck to turn back facing forward. "Don't bother. I've grown stronger thanks to all my new followers. My powers are irresistible. You have to obey me. Say it."

To his own horror his mouth moves on it's own. "I obey you Master."

He chuckles kneeling down, stroking his cheek. Causing him to shudder and cum.

"Good little camping boi. Your mine now..... mine forever...."