Cesare & the Harvester 2000 – Page 1

A medical professor and his gay lab assistant put an arrogant jock through hell in this cum control story by Matty Schmatty with art by Franco.

Cesare & The Harvester 2000 – Page 1
by Matty Schmatty
Art by Franco

While Professor Greene loved to interact with his students while teaching a basic Human Anatomy & Physiology class at the local university, his favorite aspect of the position was his personal research budget which allowed him to pursue his most intense interest in the mechanics of extreme human function. His current experiment would be the culmination of his life work – the effects of multiple orgasms on the young male body. At least it would be – if he could only find the perfect subject on which to test his theories. Fortunately, the professor had access to a large student body full of young men in their sexual prime and luckily one student in particular represented that perfect specimen – Cesare Smith – the university’s star soccer forward.

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Cesare Smith stood looking in the full-length mirror of his dorm room and admired his naked body. His skin was a dark olive, not only because of the hours spent in the sun but because of the Italian blood running through his veins. Every muscle in his body was defined, from the developed muscles on his legs which accounted for his speed to the biceps bulging from his arms. He wasn’t scarily muscular. Instead, his muscle tone was what brought the ladies crawling to him.

Needless to say, he didn’t have any problems getting a woman. In fact, it was common for him to have a new one every night. And while they came to him for his muscles, they stayed with him for his dick. Perhaps his most defined muscle of all, it now hung limp against his leg. He liked the feeling of it swaying lose, which is why he often decided to forgo underwear. Though it made it harder to hide should he get excited, it boosted his confidence knowing that anyone and everyone could see it’s outline.

Cesare took great pride in maintaining his looks. He had to make sure his appearance fit his persona. His mother named him Cesare because of the full head of hair he had when he was born (Cesare means “head full of hair” in Italian.) He was blessed to still have that full head of hair and he was sure to use it to his advantage.

Combing his hair in his classic style, with a part on his left side and hair combed towards the back, he made sure each hair was in its proper place before applying his hair gel. Satisfied that his hair met the expected standard, his picked out his clothes. Today, he decided on a white polo shirt that clung tightly to his body and a pair of khaki shorts. Slipping on his flip flops, he grabbed his bag and headed toward class.

It was another clear, cloudless day as Cesare strolled across the campus quad on his way to class. The high that he was feeling far superseded any problems he may encounter that day; just last night, the University’s soccer team made it into the finals. Many had said that it was Cesare’s sportsmanship and athleticism that took his team this far.

Born in Italy, he and his mother move to the states when he was just 3 years old to begin their new lives with her new American husband. Though young, he still inherited the fantastic ability to play soccer. In fact, last night there were several pro scouts there looking at him. Needless to say, he rose to the challenge.

Strolling across the grass of the school commons, every step he took had him interacting with someone, everyone wanted to greet the school’s hero. He welcomed the attention. He loved being in the spotlight. It didn’t hurt when his female classmates would rub their hands on his chest and bulging biceps while cooing over his hard muscles. Some of the more forward ladies would even venture down to his crotch and cop a feel as he passed by. But that didn’t bother Cesare. In fact, he loved it.

Luckily, the only class he had that day was Human Anatomy & Physiology. He had put off the science requirement for graduation until his last semester, not wanting to be tied down with the horrendous amount of study and homework time required until absolutely necessary. You see, what Cesare’s DNA had gifted him in the looks and athleticism departments, it neglected in the brains. But he chose the professor’s anatomy class because he figured it would be a great environment for meeting girls and he was always the first to raise his hand when the professor asked for a male volunteer to serve as a body model figuring since he had the body he might as well show it off.

He had been doing well thus far, or so he thought. He wasn’t actually learning anything but he was coasting by with a passing grade. It didn’t hurt that some of his female classmates had traded a chance at his dick for doing his homework. However, today was the day the students would be receiving progress reports on their grade thus far. And with little more than 4 weeks left in class before graduation, it was do or die.

Walking in to class, he was greeted with the familiar “hellos” and smiles from the ladies. He gave a few high-fives on his way to his seat, located as far back in the classroom as possible. Just before class was to start, Trevor, the professor’s teaching and lab assistant, began passing out the grade slips.

Trevor was gay. And he didn’t care who knew it. Supposedly, he had come out to his family when he was a mere 13. Cesare, personally, couldn’t stand being around him. He had caught Trevor staring at him during class on more than one occasion. Once, he even spotted what appeared to be a boner in Trevor’s pants, though he wasn’t close enough to say for sure. Regardless, anytime the two of them were near each other, Cesare made it a point to interact with someone else to avoid talking to Trevor. This day would be no different.

Spotting Trevor coming his way, Cesare leaned over and started talk to one of the ladies in class, flirting it up. Trevor, being as timid as he was, shyly handed Cesare his paper and walked on. “Phew,” Cesare thought. That was until he looked at his grade slip. A massive “F” was written in red ink across the top. Something had to be wrong, he thought. Up till now, he had been able to manage a low “C.” Now he was blindsided by an “F!”

“Hey,” Cesare called out, jumping out of his seat in anger. “This is wrong!”

“I’m sorry. It is not.” retorted Trevor. Avoiding eye contact, he turned and proceeded to walk towards the professor’s office.

Cesare, not accepting that answer, followed Trevor in and shut the door behind them. He allowed Trevor to sit behind the desk before continuing.

“I’ve had at least a ‘C’ all semester and now, somehow, I have an ‘F?’ How is that?”

“You remember the 3 essays that were assigned 2 weeks ago that you scored a ‘B’ on?”

“Yea,” Cesare shook his head at the dumb question. “What about them?” He knew he didn’t write those essays, but he had never been caught.

“Well, Stephanie confessed to writing those for you. So, the professor gave you zeros for all three…and that put you at an ‘F’ for the semester.” By this time, Trevor had begun to assert his tone as he built up confidence.

Cesare pounded his hands on the desk, causing Trevor to jump back in fright. “I wrote those essays. I don’t care what that slut said, I wrote them and I deserve the credit. So, what I need you to do is to go in to the computer and change this grade back.” At this point, Cesare had moved around the desk and was standing next to Trevor’s seat, glaring over him.

“I can’t do that. You didn’t earn it!”

“If I fail this class, I don’t graduate. And if I don’t graduate…” Cesare glared down at Trevor. “I don’t go to the pros.”

“Well, I can’t…”

“Please, I will do whatever I have to do to pass this class. Do you understand me?” Cesare grabbed Trevor’s arm forcibly and put his face inches away from Trevor’s intimidatingly. “Whatever it takes!”

“I’m glad you say that, Mr. Smith.” Both Trevor and Cesare jumped at the voice of the professor as he walked in from the exterior entrance. “I have a proposition for you. I could use some help on a study Trevor and I have been working on. If you participate, I will give you enough extra credit to give you a passing grade.”

Cesare released his grip on Trevor’s arm and stood up with a renewed enthusiasm. “Sure. Tell me when and where and I will be there.”

“Tomorrow morning. Be in my office at 9 a.m. sharp. If you are late, you won’t get the credit.”

“Yes, sir. I will be there.”

“Good deal, Mr. Smith. Now get out of my office, please.”

Cesare shook his head, turned, and walked out of the office and into the classroom with renewed hope that he was going to be able to pass. He couldn’t help but glare at Stephanie as he walked by, letting her know that he knew how she betrayed him. He would deal with her later. He strolled back to his seat, slumped in his chair, and muddled through another boring class.

To Cesare, it seemed as though the professor had turned the dial up on his monotone voice, making it extra boring to sit through. That was ok, he thought. He had a way out now and could guarantee a passing grade. All he had to do was help the professor with his stupid study and he would be home free.

The rest of the day was uneventful, filled with nothing but practice, eating, sleeping and a too many beers. After all, what more did a star athlete need to do? Once practice was out of the way, Cesare could focus on more important issues, like how he was going to get back at Stephanie, and who he was going to fuck tonight.

The next morning, as he awoke with a hangover, Cesare went into panic mode realizing that based on the clock flashing the time, he only had 15 minutes before he was late to the study and, according to the professor, he couldn’t be late. He rushed, spending just a few minutes on his hair before throwing on the first outfit he grabbed out of the closet. Taking no time to admire himself in the mirror, he slipped on his flip flops and rushed out the door.

Once outside, he sprinted across the quad, his calf muscles flexing as he ran. As he made it to the building that housed the professor’s office, he took a moment to check the time; he had two minutes left. Realizing he was safe, he strolled through the hallways until he came to the office door. Inside, all he could hear was what seemed like Trevor singing to himself. With his head pounding from his hangover, he turned the knob to open the door and walked in.

Trevor had his back turned to Cesare while singing a song that Cesare didn’t recognize. He took a moment to take inventory of the room. Though the office all looked the same, in the middle was a new contraption. It looked like something straight out of Jekyll and Hyde. It was a wooden chair with ropes attached to it. Connected to the back of the chair was a cylinder piece, that appeared to be rubber, that resembled the tool used to extract milk out of a cow.

Cesare also noticed wires running from the cylinder to an electrical device that was sitting on a table next to the chair. On this electrical board were several knobs and switches along with the words “Harvester 2000.”

“What is that?” he thought. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before.

“Oh. Hello, Mr. Smith,” Trevor greeted him as he removed his earphones. “I didn’t notice you walk in.”

“What is this thing?” Cesare decided to skip the formalities. They each knew how the other felt.

“Oh. This is something the professor and I invented. It’s what we use for our study.”

“OOOOKKKK. What do I need to do?”

“First things first, I need you to strip down completely.”

“Hell no!” Cesare retorted. “That’s absurd. Why would I want to strip down in front of a fag like you?”

“Because, this fag has the power to pass or fail you. You need the extra credit. Now get undressed and sit down!” Trevor asserted his authority over Cesare, enjoying what little bit of control he had over the hunky Italian.

Cesare, knowing that Trevor was right, still didn’t want to get naked in front of him. “Listen. I agreed to help the professor with a study. I didn’t agree to get naked in front of you. I don’t trust you!”

“Well, let’s weigh your options. One, you can leave and not get credit, causing you to fail. Two, you can quit being a baby, get naked and sit down and quit prolonging us any further. Your choice. I just need you to hurry before he gets here.”

It wasn’t long before the desire to graduate over ruled his disdain for getting naked. “Just know, if you touch me, I will cut your throat.”

Trevor held up his hands up and stepped away, giving Cesare the space he needed to undress. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as Cesare pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his toned abs and chiseled pecs. He admired how the tone of his skin flowed consistently through his entire chest. Careful not to get caught looking, he looked away just as Cesare pulled the shirt clear of his head.

Once he was sure Cesare wasn’t looking, he watched his forearms flex as he unbuckled the belt of his shorts, unfastened them, and then dropped them to the floor. His eyes nearly shot out of his head as he realized that Cesare wasn’t wearing any underwear. He watched as the hem of the shorts passed Cesare’s trimmed pubes and revealed the monster he was hiding underneath.

Trevor had caught a glimpse of Cesare’s cock through his shorts once while he was sitting during class. He feared that he’d been caught when Cesare seemed to notice him eyeing the massive organ. But Trevor was not prepared for it’s impressiveness seeing it in the flesh. “Luckily,” he thought “We made the Harvester 2000 a one-size-fits all.” Trevor was sure they would have no problem getting it to fit. And he couldn’t wait to get his hands on it to try.

“Keep your eyes to yourself, faggot.” Cesare caught him looking.

Trevor turned away and walked towards the electric control panel, wanting to get it prepared before the professor arrived as he was sure to want to get started immediately.

“Ok, man. What now?”

Trevor turned around and immediately felt his dick twitch in his pants. There, in all of his glory, stood Cesare trying, but failing, to cover his cock with his hands. “You need to sit in the chair.”

“What is this thing going to do anyway?” Cesare nodded his head towards the awkward contraption.

“I’ll explain once we get you locked in. Now sit down, please.”

“Ok. Ok. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” Cesare laughed at his own joke.

Cesare sat in the chair normally while still trying to cover his cock. “NO, you dumbass,” Trevor scalded. “Turn around and face the opposite direction.” Cesare obliged, giving a look to Trevor that would have sent a regular opponent running.

Once Cesare had turned around, Trevor hurriedly bent and placed ropes around his thighs, securing them to the chair. Once he was satisfied that the restraints were tight enough, guided Cesare’s arms away from his dick, around the back of the chair, and into their own restraints.

With those securely in place, Cesare and the chair had now become one object. Tied to the chair as he was, it was impossible for him to stand and run away. Trevor could now do whatever he wanted, and Cesare couldn’t do anything about it.

For a moment, Trevor stepped back and admired the view before him. There, essentially restrained and unable to move, sat the university’s star soccer player. There, in all of his naked glory, was the man whom Trevor had been admiring all semester. Trevor smiled. As strong and as arrogant as Cesare was, he was now powerless before him.