A/N Once again, I appreciate the Reviews, Favorites, and Follows! Thank you all!

Ready for a few hints of how things work at Dalton? (Insert evil smiley emoji here!)

…

Desire to Obey

The Overseer observed the monitor, watching his protege interact with the pale boy, saw him manipulate the boy into laying down with him. The Overseer knew when the sedative he'd ordered Blaine to put into the boy's moisturizer began to take effect. This sedative wasn't as powerful as the one in the candle, but it was effective for their needs tonight.

The shrouded Overseer reached out and picked up what appeared to be a remote control and pressed a button. He saw Blaine flinch as a soft chime sounded in the dorm room, but as he'd been conditioned to do, the boy reached into the drawer in the table between the two beds and took out a small pill bottle, dutifully swallowing the mild narcotic.

Smiling, the Overseer tapped out something on the keyboard, and hit send. Moments later he could see the boy receiving his reward for obeying, as Oxytocin and endorphins slowly began to flood his system. The mysterious figure then rose and took the shortcut to the dorms, stopping outside room 412.

…

Blaine stared at the unconscious boy in his arms, the drug already affecting his mind. The pale boy looked so beautiful in his sleep, so sweet and innocent. He couldn't help reaching out and brushing loose hair off the angelic face. His fingers lingered, lightly brushing over the soft cheek, the masculine cut of the jaw line. Blaine knew the chemicals spilling through him were stealing his control, and he tried pulling away from the other boy, but temptation proved too much, and before he realized what he was doing, he had unbuttoned Kurt's pajama top, and was staring down at the expanse of pale pink flesh over subtle muscle.

He wanted to trace the flesh with his tongue, to see the boy writhe with pleasure. He wanted the other boy to feel the same addictive pleasure he was feeling even now. He wanted to take the innocent boy and corrupt him, show him the joy of being filthy.

"You want him," The distorted voice of the Overseer said from behind him. Blaine didn't even react, his sole focus on the boy in front of him. "Touch him."

Blaine had no willpower what so ever. He slowly slid his hands down over Kurt's chest, thumbing one small nipple. Kurt gasped and arched into the touch, but didn't wake up. The curly haired boy circled the stiffening peek once more, and the blue eyed boy thrashed, a needy whine emitting from him.

Blaine was so aroused by the flush on the auburn haired beauty's face. He slid one of his hands down over his own groin, pressing the palm of his hand against his erection and crying out in pleasure.

"That's enough for now," the Overseer commanded, and with a choked sob, Blaine pulled away from the other boy. "When the time for his conditioning in that area comes, I will allow you to instruct him, if you continue to behave. Now move to your own bed and sleep."

Blaine obeyed, although reluctantly, as the Overseer moved to stand next to Kurt. He rolled the pale boy on to his stomach and examined the tiny incision behind the left ear where the small chip had been implanted two nights before. It was healing well. The tall, lean figure allowed his fingers to trail down Kurt's back, and over the firm swell of the boy's ass, giving the twin globes a firm squeeze. The pale boy made a sound of distress, and began to roll away. The Overseer laughed cruelly, but removed his hands.

…

Kurt woke up with tears in his eyes, having been plagued by nightmares most of the night. Well, most of his dreams had been nightmares, but he was certain they hadn't started out that way. He'd dreamed that Blaine had touched him, and he had liked it. But then Blaine had morphed into Karofsky, and Kurt was once again trapped against the lockers.

He wiped at his eyes, and glanced over to the other bed, but Blaine wasn't there, nor was he in the bathroom. Kurt showered quickly and got dressed. Blaine still hadn't returned by the time he was ready to go down to breakfast.

He glanced around the dining hall, but there was no sign of the overly gelled head. The pale boy sat at the Warblers' table as usual, smiling at Wes and Thad, the only two there at the moment.

"Have either of you seen Blaine? He was gone when I woke up this morning."

"He went for a jog. He should be back soon." Wes said kindly. "Just so you know, you're schedule is a little different this morning. After English, you'll go to computer lab three instead of History, and then after your French class, you have an appointment with Mr. Higgins and the nutritionist to talk about your Phys Ed requirements and your diet."

Kurt just nodded as he ate his oatmeal. No History today sounded fine to him. He didn't know what it was, but his headache always seemed to come back in that class. Was there something in there he was allergic to?

As for the meeting about his diet, he was not looking forward to that. He could see Wes studying the small amount of food on his tray disapprovingly. Other than the oatmeal, Kurt had an apple and a glass of orange juice, and nothing else. He'd always been a very lite eater. His parents had consulted a doctor about it once when he was younger, and the doctor said that his diet was fine, that he was growing at the proper rate, and not to concern themselves over it unless he stopped gaining weight or growing. He always made healthy food choices, as well.

The table filled up quickly, and Blaine arrived shortly before the end of breakfast. He was talking with Trent, and Kurt barely had a chance to say good morning before he had to get ready for class.

They had a different substitute in English that morning, and while this one wasn't as fun as the one the day before, they did give out an interesting assignment. They were told to choose a book that was made into a movie and compare the two in a three page essay. Kurt was almost half finished with his before the end of the period.

When he arrived at computer lab three, he was greeted by a cheerful British accent. "Ah, you must be Kurt Hummel. Welcome to computer lab three. All of the cubicles are occupied at the moment, so why don't you have a seat and relax. Would you like a cup of tea?" The man was slightly taller than Kurt, with salt and pepper hair and beard, and the strangest shade of brown eyes Kurt had ever seen. They were almost the color of cafe au lait.

Kurt was a bit surprised by the offer, and started to decline, but the man tutted at him. "Never decline the offer of tea with an Englishman. I'm Mr. Parson, by the way, forgive me for not introducing myself right away."

Kurt accepted the tea in a delicate little china cup, smiling as he recalled various tea parties with his mom and dad. He was also offered a cranberry scone.

"Thank you," he said after a sip of tea. "What part of Britain are you from?"

"London, originally, but my mum moved around a lot for work after my dad died."

"I'm sorry. My mom passed away when I was eight."

"My condolences, and thank you. So, what brings you to Dalton? I'm guessing bullies."

Kurt nodded around a bite of scone. "Yeah, it got to the point I feared for my life," He said after he swallowed. "One guy threatened to kill me, after he assaulted me."

"Poor boy. And how are you finding it here so far?"

"Everyone has been so nice to me, it's kind of strange."

The older man laughed. "You'll get used to it. Ah, looks as if Trent is finished with cubicle six. Finish up your snack and we'll get you set up."

Kurt smiled at his fellow Warbler as he finished his tea and the last bite of his scone. Except for that morning at Breakfast, this was the first time he had seen the other boy since the seizure. The boy seemed pale, and a little shaky as he smiled back at Kurt, and left without saying a word.

"Come along, Mr. Hummel." Kurt followed the teacher to the vacant cubicle and sat down in the rather comfortable chair. "Put on the earphones and open the file with your name on it, and open session one. You'll watch a short twenty minute video, and then answer some questions."

Kurt nodded and did as instructed. The video basically went over the rules at Dalton, and what was expected of the boys there. The voice speaking was almost a drone in his ears, the voice's cadence lulling him into a stupor, almost hypnotic, but he tried to pay attention. When it came time to answer the questions, he felt almost light headed.

Question number one;

Which of the following are considered minor transgressions that receive a warning the first time?

A) Running in the hallways

B) Being too loud during quiet time

C) Not properly disposing of your trash in the cafeteria

D) All of the above

Kurt chose D and hit enter.

Question number two;

True or false, being late to class is a class two transgression and is punishable as seen fit by the instructor.

Kurt clicked on True.

The questions went on in that manor, and Kurt answered them without even really having to think about them.

Question number fifteen;

What is the most important thing to remember at Dalton?

Kurt typed the answer and clicked send, not even seeming aware of what he typed;

I must obey at all times.

…

French class seemed to fly by, and before Kurt knew it, he was sitting in a small office with Mr. Higgins and a middle aged woman who wore a perpetual frown. She was introduced as Ms. Clark.

"We've gone over your assessment, and I concur with Mr. Higgins. He has set up a regimen for you in Phys Ed that will work on muscle definition. We also want you to increase your carb and protein intake slightly. I want you to add one starch per meal, and one protein per day."

Kurt frowned. "My doctor said that my weight was fine, and that the diet I'm on now is good for me."

The woman seemed to frown even harder. "I'm certain he did, however he is not a trained dietitian. By making these minor changes to your eating habits, you will gain the desired muscle tone, and have more stamina for your dancing, and other activities."

"I can try, but I'm not sure I can eat that much."

The woman seemed to attempt a smile, but it seemed more like a malicious grin. "I'm certain you'll follow my instructions."

After that, the dietitian left, and Mr. Higgins began outlining what was expected of him in Phys Ed.

"We will re-evaluate you every two weeks to check on your progress. I expect results by the end of the month."

Kurt nodded his head in acquiescence. He was then excused to go to lunch.

He chose the chicken sandwich again, along with cottage cheese, to which he added sunflower seeds. That covered his extra protein for the day, but as he glanced over the carb choices, nothing seemed appealing to him. He chose to forego it for now, and took his tray to the Warbler's table.

Wes sat beside him. "Hey Kurt, I just wanted to let you know I've added extra Warbler's practices this weekend, to get you up to speed on our routines before Sectionals next week."

"Oh," Kurt said, startled. "I was going to go home this weekend."

"I'm sorry, Kurt, but we really do need to rehearse. Maybe you could go home after Sectionals?"

Kurt was disappointed, of course, but he knew the Warblers would need time to work him into their arrangements and teach him the choreography. "Okay. I told my dad I'd let him know after classes today if I wasn't going to come home or not."

The handsome Asian smiled, and then glanced at his tray of food. "You need another starch."

Kurt frowned. How did Wes know what the nutritionist had said? "They didn't have anything else that I liked."

"You do know that things like broccoli and mashed potatoes count, don't you?"

Kurt shrugged. "I don't like broccoli, and mashed potatoes don't exactly go with a sandwich."

Wes frowned, but didn't say anything more on the subject. Blaine and the others soon joined them, and talk turned to rehearsals and Sectionals. Kurt finished his lunch, feeling a headache coming on again as he put up his tray and threw out his trash. A sharp pain lanced through his head, and he almost stumbled as he started to leave the dining hall.

Blaine was suddenly standing beside him, holding out a banana. "Here, eat this. It will help, and drink a bottle of water. You're probably still a little dehydrated."

"Thanks."

"Maybe you should listen to the nutritionist, and eat what she told you to eat."

Kurt glared at him. "How does everyone know what she told me to eat?"

"Because we've all been there before. It's part of Dalton's reputation for excellence. The boys that come out of here are intelligent, poised, and healthy."

"I am healthy. I had a check up with my doctor just a couple of months ago, and he said I was in excellent condition, and that my diet was just fine."

Blaine sighed. "Well, you should at least try to comply. You've already passed out once due to dehydration. You don't want to pass out from low blood sugar or something more serious."

Kurt didn't know what to say to that, so just ate the banana and drank the water. The headache did seem to subside after he ate. Maybe there was something to what they were saying after all.

…

He finished his afternoon classes without any more issues, and then went back to his dorm to call his dad. He was still disappointed not to be going home for the weekend, and it showed in his voice as he spoke.

"Are you sure you're okay, kiddo?" His dad asked.

"I'll be fine, dad. It's just taking some time to adjust to the pace here at Dalton. I love you, and I'll see you next week after Sectionals, I promise."

"Okay, bud. I love you too. Don't stress yourself out too much."

Kurt hung up the phone, and glanced at the clock. He had a couple minutes before he had to leave for his first Warbler's practice, and went to the bathroom to freshen up a little. He studied himself in the mirror for a moment. He'd never had issues with stamina while dancing before, and wasn't interested in becoming too muscled out. He didn't understand why they thought he needed to.

With a sigh, he made his way out of the dorm and down to The Chamber.

…

Practice was exhausting. His headache came back halfway through the second run through of Hey Soul Sister, as he'd made a misstep in the choreography. It had gotten worse every time he'd made a mistake. He attributed it to frustration at not being able to do the simple side step movements.

By the end of practice his headache was a steady throb. He drank a bottle of water as he walked to the dining hall. He didn't really feel like eating, but knew he would get a lecture. He selected a salad with grilled chicken, mandarin oranges, strawberries, blueberries, and blue cheese crumbles, with a berry balsamic vinaigrette. Blaine, who was in line behind him, frowned, and began to say something, but Kurt cut him off.

"Please, I don't want to hear it. I'm tired, my head is killing me, and I really have no appetite. I'm going to take this back to the room and try and get some homework done."

…

Thirty minutes later, the Overseer observed Blaine return to the dorm room and find Kurt curled into a fetal position on his bed, sobbing and clutching his head, the salad uneaten on the bedside table. The dark haired boy frowned in concern, and went to the side of the bed, holding out a multigrain roll.

The pale boy looked at the roll, tears still streaming down his face. He didn't speak, but reached out and took the roll, and with a choked sob, began to eat it. The Overseer typed out a command on his keyboard, and hit enter.

…

Blaine sat down next to the blue eyed boy, rubbing soothing circles on his back. He could see those beautiful orbs dilate as Oxytocin and endorphins began to flood his system. The tears faded, and he ate more of the roll, shivering as drugging pleasure filled him.

Blaine smiled softly at him. "Doesn't it feel so much better to obey?"

Kurt moaned and closed his eyes as he finished the piece of bread, leaning back against the shorter boy. "So good..."