Like Father, Like Son
by: FuMan
The Gaines family lived in the house caddy corner from mine. I used to be friends with their stepson, Phil, when I was younger, but he moved away.
Mr. Gaines was once the nicest guy in the neighborhood. He taught me how to play baseball when my father was too busy to even bother. He headed my chapter of the Indian Scouts. He even took me to see my first professional football game. But the instant that he found out that I was gay, he banished me from his home. Phil and I were never able to hang out together again. He even went so far as to transfer Phil to a different school during our eighth grade year.
After that, Richard Gaines led a protest, petition and all, through the neighborhood to have my family leave the area. He convinced many of the people in the neighborhood to shun me and my family, telling them that I would “convert” their children.
It got so bad that we ended up moving out of the city and never returned. That is, until this last year. I was called back to the area by my employer. I work for a group of psychologists in Chicago. We specialize in the recovery of lost memories, a specialty that is required quite frequently, believe it or not. I ended up back in town at the request of a local architecture firm, The Crawford Company. One of their primary architects had lost a series of plans for a major construction job in the area. The president of the company called us to find out if we could help him to remember where those plans ended up.
When I arrived at the airport, a driver was there to pick me up. He explained to me on the drive over to the office building that the architect who lost the plans had been with the company for many years and it was important to keep him on staff despite his recent rash of errors.
“What’s the guy’s name?” I asked, always curious to know something about my subject before I started a job.
“Dick Gaines,” he replied.
It took me a moment to realize what he had said. For years, I’d tried to repress my memories of the Gaines family and what they had done to me and my family. (And yes, I do realize the irony of that). I thought for a moment that it just might have been a different Richard Gaines. But Richard Gaines was an architect and he had worked for the Crawford firm since he and his family moved to the area in ‘78.
“Dick Gaines, did you say?” I asked the driver, a dark-skinned, dark-haired, relatively muscular young guy in his twenties.
“Yes. He’s a really great guy. But he’s had a run of bad luck lately.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, in the last two months, he’s managed to erase the entire hard drive on his computer, lose three major clients and lose the plans to the new downtown office complex.”
“Wow!” I replied. “That’s pretty bad!”
“Yeah, and the real bummer is that all of his recent mistakes are close to costing him his job.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, the only reason Crawford’s keeping him on is cause he’s the last person to have seen the plans.”
“Don’t they have a file copy?”
“It was on Dick’s computer.”
“Oh.”
The whole time I discussed the issue of Richard Gaines’s latest problems, I was rejoicing inside for him getting his come-up-ins. It’s comforting to know that someone up there believes in payback.
“What are you gonna do for Dick?” the driver asked.
“I’m a hypnotherapist. I have great success with regression therapy. That’s usually all that’s needed in these situations.”
“Hypnosis?” The driver sounded skeptical. “Does that stuff work?”
“Oh yes,” I replied. “Have you ever been hypnotized before?”
“Me? No.”
The driver, albeit a little uneducated, was actually quite an attractive man. Had I not had an appointment at the architecture firm, I might have had him take a detour for awhile.
At that moment, though, he pulled the car into the rounded entryway of a large building, one I never remembered from my time living in town. “New building?” I asked.
“Yep, built last year.”
I exited the vehicle and entered through the main doors. In the elevator, I saw an awful lot of amazing men. I guess that I had forgotten how well-endowed the city had been before I left.
At floor six, I got off the elevator and walked down the hall to the Crawford Company’s office. I was greeted by Denise, a short, chubby receptionist with braces on her teeth.
“Good afternoon, how can I help you?” she asked me.
“Dr. Paul Brighton. I have an appointment with Mr. Crawford.”
“Oh yes, Doctor,” she replied. “He’s expecting you.”
Later, after receiving a briefing of the situation from Daniel Crawford, I was preparing to meet Richard Gaines in a small office, equipped with a rather roomy couch and lounge chair. The decor did not match anything in the other offices. Dick entered the room, but I had made it purposely dark in the room ahead of time. I needed to do this to maintain my anonymity before our first session.
“Hello?” he asked, looking at me sitting in the chair.
“Mr. Gaines?”
“Yes,” he replied, glancing around the room. “Why is it so dark in here?”
“Mr. Gaines, I’m Dr. Brighton,” I said, hoping that he would not make the connection with the name. Thankfully, he did not.
We shook hands, but I made an extra effort to remain in the shadows through it all.
Richard Gaines was a man in his middle forties. He had always been a handsome man, square jaw, dark brown hair, blue eyes and medium skin tone. Things had not changed since I was thirteen, except for his physical condition. I always remembered him as being in good physical condition, but I guess after 15 years away from home, things can drastically change. Dick Gaines had developed quite a beer belly, the kind that made him look as if he had stuffed a small pillow under his shirt. It didn’t take away from his looks, but I knew that once I had my way with him, that would be the first thing to go.
“Mr. Gaines, have you ever been hypnotized before?”
“No, Doc. To tell you the truth, I’m a little bit nervous about it.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, I’m afraid I won’t be able to be hypnotized.”
“Why does that make you nervous?”
“Frankly, if I can’t be hypnotized, I’m gonna lose my job.”
“I understand, Mr. Gaines, but to be honest with you, everyone can be hypnotized. It’s just a question of how long it takes someone to relax enough to get into a trance.”
“Well, Doc, I’m ready and willing. What do I do?”
“Just lay back on the couch and we’ll begin.”
Dick Gaines reclined on the couch and laid his head down on a large, soft pillow. It did not take me more than 15 minutes to get him into a trance. The whole process went far too easily, I thought.
“Dick, listen to my voice. The sound of my voice is soothing and relaxing, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to relax, Dick. Imagine yourself floating on a raft in the middle of a pool. Feel the tiny waves of water rolling under you. Can you feel them, Dick?”
“Yes, so soothing...”
“As each ripple flows under your body, you will become more relaxed. Feel yourself floating and becoming more and more relaxed.”
I looked over to see Dick Gaines laying on the couch, his head slouched to the side. He was definitely going under.
“On the count of three, Dick, you will fall into the deepest sleep you have ever experienced. But you will still be able to hear my voice and answer me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, deepest sleep...hear...you...”
“1..2..”
At the mere mention of the ‘3’, Dick’s head fell all the way down and he was totally out. I had him right where I wanted him.
“Dick, can you hear me?”
“Yes, Doc.”
“From now on, Dick, you will call me Sir. Calling me Sir will make you feel very happy, the happiest you have felt in a long time. Won’t it be nice to feel so happy, Dick?”
“Yes, so happy, Sir.” A smile formed on Dick Gaines’s face when he addressed me.
At this point, I decided to get my work out of the way first before I indulged in the wicked fun I had planned for him.
“Dick, do you know where the plans for the new office complex are?”
“I lost them.”
“Where do you remember seeing them last?”
“In my house. I showed them to Andy.”
Andy? Wow! I hadn’t thought about his youngest son in a long time. Andy had been only ten when I left the city. Even at ten, he had promise to become a beautiful stud. I wondered for a moment how he had turned out.
“Dick, do you have a picture of Andy?” I asked, not able to overcome my curiosity.
“Yes, in my wallet.”
“Pull it out, Dick. It may help me help you find the answer to your lost plans.”
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, removing the picture of his son.
DEAR GOD ABOVE!!!! I had been right about Andy. He had definitely turned out to be a stud. He had his father’s jaw and rugged good looks. His dark auburn hair and brown eyes only helped to accentuate how handsome he was. Although the picture was not recent and not a full body shot, it was evident that Andy had spent a number of years building up his scrawny ten year old frame into a mass of muscle.
“Where did you put the plans after you showed them to your son, Dick?”
“I put them back in the poster roll and placed them by my briefcase.”
“Did you take them to work the next day?”
“No,” he replied, with a sudden puzzled look on his face. “I didn’t.”
“Well, Dick, it would appear that the answer to your problem lies at home. We’ll have to investigate.”
“We?”
“Yes, Dick, we will have to investigate. I will have to come with you in case we have to reinduce this trance.”
He just smiled and nodded in agreement, as if it sounded logical to him.
With all that out of the way, I decided to put my own plans into motion.
“Dick, I am going to ask you a series of questions and you are going to answer them the way that I see fit. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I am going to imply things about you, Dick, and you are going to accept my implications as truth. Understand?”
“Yes, sir. Your implications will be my truth.”
“Very good. Dick, do you remember Paul Brighton?”
“Paul Brighton? The fag?”
I was a bit furious at his reaction, but calmed myself down. “Yes, Dick, the fag. What do you remember about Paul?”
“He was a nice kid until he decided to come out of the closet.”
“But Dick, you loved him like a son of your own, didn’t you?”
“Yes, until he revealed to everyone that he was gay. I couldnt handle that at all. No son of mine, real or adopted, would turn out to be gay.”
“You couldn’t handle it? Why, Dick?”
“I just couldn’t.”
“Maybe you couldn’t handle it because you yourself were afraid that everyone would find out that you were gay, too?”
“Me? Gay?!” he exclaimed, an angry tone in his voice.
“Yes, Dick, you are gay. You have always been gay. You will always be gay.”
“But I’m married. I’ve been married twice. I have two kids.”
“Yes, you do, Dick. But you are gay. It’s OK to be gay, Dick. In fact, being gay is the best feeling in the world. It makes you feel so happy to think about it, doesn’t it, Dick?”
“Y...Y...Yes,” he hesitatingly replied, starting to believe me.
“Your two marriages have both been half-baked attempts to disguise your homosexuality, haven’t they, Dick?”
“Yes, Sir, they have.”
“Are you gay, Dick?”
“Yes!” he yelled out, as if freeing himself from a guilt that had been building up inside him for a long time.
“That’s right, Dick, you are gay. And all of your life, you have known that you were gay. In fact, when you met Paul Brighton, you fell in love with him, didn’t you, Dick?”
“Yes, I did.”
“He was a beautiful boy, wasn’t he, Dick?”
“Yes, Sir, he was.”
“You only ousted him from your neighborhood to avoid molesting him, didn’t you, Dick? You wanted to touch Paul even when he was very young.”
“Yes, I did. I wanted to touch him.”
“Paul Brighton was and still is the love of your life, Dick. You would do anything to meet him again. You would do anything to tell him how sorry you are for banishing him from the town.”
“And I would do anything to make love to him.”
I was so happy to see that the suggestions had ingrained themselves in his mind so quickly. He was an easy subject. In no time at all, I had him believing everything I told him.
“Yes, Dick, but the only way you can make it up to him would be to become his personal sex slave. If you were to meet him again, you would have to become his servant for as long as he would have you.”
“Yes, that would be the only way I could apologize for all that I did to him.”
“And if you were to become his love slave, you would do anything he asked you to. ANYTHING! In fact, the more you do for him, the more sexually excited you will become, the more mentally satisfied you will be. It will feel so wonderful to serve him, Dick.”
Dick Gaines was putty in my hands. I half-expected him to put up some kind of a fight, but he never did. He accepted everything I told him to be the truth.
“Dick, I am going to wake you up soon, and when you wake up, you are going to recognize me and ask me for my name. You are also going to become very horny, Dick. You are going to be the horniest you’ve ever been in your whole life. Because, Dick, when you wake up, you are going to realize that you are gay. You are going to remember having been gay since you were ten years old. And that realization is going to turn you on.”
“Yes, Sir, Turn me on to realize Im gay.”
“You are not going to remember being hypnotized when you wake up, Dick. But whenever you hear my voice say the words ‘Domino Effect,’ you are going to return to the same deep sleep that you are experiencing right now. And when you do, you are going to listen to and obey my commands. OK, Dick?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You are going to forget that you were hypnotized, but everything that I have told you, you will remember as your own thoughts and feelings. Do you understand, Dick?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“OK, Dick, on the count of three, you are going to wake up, feeling refreshed and invigorated. 1...2...”
At the sound of ‘3,’ Dick opened his eyes and looked around.
“Oh God, it didn’t work, did it, Sir?”
“No, Dick, it didn’t. But we will try again.”
“You know, you look really familiar to me, Sir. I never did get your full name.”
“It’s Paul Brighton, Dick.”
At the sound of that name, his face went slightly pale. He looked into my eyes, as if looking for something.
“Paul Brighton? Paul Brighton?”
“Yes, Dick, Paul Brighton. I used to live caddy corner to you as a child.”
At that moment, he began to cry.
“Oh, Paul, I’m so sorry about what I did to you 15 years ago. I was such a stupid jerk. I banished the only man I ever loved from my life.”
He fell to his knees groveling at my feet, sobbing and apologizing.
“Did you just say the only man you ever loved?” I asked, trying my hardest to sound shocked.
“Yes, Paul, I was such a fool. I was in love with you. That’s why I forced you and your family out of town. I feared that I would try to molest you at that young age. I didn’t want to do that to you. I wanted our love to be mutual and conesenting.”
He was playing the part better than I had ever expected.
“Dick, are you saying that you’re gay?”
“Yes!!!” he yelled out. “I’m gay, Paul. I’ve known it since I was ten years old, but I’ve spent my whole life living a lie, trying to hide it from everyone. But now that you’re here, I can’t keep it secret any longer. I love you, Paul!”
With that, I could see a small bulge beginning to develop in his pants. He was sweating just slightly, and I could see a smile forming on his lips.
“Paul, I want to be your slave!”
“What?” I asked, once again trying to sound shocked.
“If you’ll have me, of course.”
I didn’t answer him, just stood there in amazement.
“It’s the only way that I can make it up to you, Paul! I want to serve you night and day. I want to do your bidding, obey your every command. Please, Paul! Please let me do this for you!”
“I don’t understand, Dick. You want to be my slave to make up for what?”
“For ruining your life in this town. For sending you and your family out of the neighborhood. I disrupted your childhood and your entire life and I need to repay my debt to you.”
“What would I do with a slave?” I asked, still eyeing the bulge in his pants that just seemed to be getting bigger as he begged.
“I’ll do anything for you, Paul. Just name it!”
I stood there, pretending to consider his offer, even though I knew what my first request would be. He looked up at me, showing obvious signs of his active sex drive.
“Well, I guess I could use an errand boy for a few days. At least, while I’m here in town.”
“Oh Paul, I would love to run your errands for you. Really! Just tell me what you want me to do.”
I looked down at him, still on his knees, in the proper begging position. “Well, Dick, if you don’t mind, I am feeling a little stressed lately.”
“What can I do to help you?” he asked. “A massage?”
“Actually, Dick, my stress has been mainly due to a lack of sex.”
His eyes opened wide and I could tell he knew what I was going to ask of him. I could see the obvious struggle going on between his old ways of thinking and his conditioning. Although I had led him to believe that he was gay, saying the words and playing the part were two separate things. I did not condition him to play the role, hoping the mental suggestions I left in his mind would overpower him, leading him to do so on his own.
“What are you asking?” he inquired, the sound of confusion in his voice.
“Well, Dick, the best way for me to unwind sexually is to have a blowjob. Do you think you could do that for me, Dick?”
“Suck you off?!” he replied, now sounding angry and upset.
“Yes, Dick. You did say you would do anything for me.”
“But...but...I don’t think I can do that, Sir.”
“If you truly are gay, Dick, and you love me the way you say you do, my request should be a dream come true for you.”
“Oh, it is,” he replied, the hypnotic suggestions kicking in, ““I’ve just never done it before. I’m afraid I’ll be no good at it.”
“You’ll never know until you try.”
With that, Dick Gaines, the forty-something father of two, who led a protest to get me out of town, pulled down the zipper on my pants and reached inside. I felt his sweaty hands grab my cock and slip it through the pants. He hesitatingly opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around it. As soon as he did so, he just stopped what he was doing and knelt there at my feet.
“Domino Effect.”
Dick’s head dropped to his chest, and my penis bounced around as it was flung from his mouth. I had promised that I would not try to condition him further, but as I watched him try to give me a blowjob, I felt it was necessary.
“Dick, you are Paul’s servant boy now. You need to be more sensitive to his needs from now on. If he asks you to do something, you WILL do it. No matter what your mind says to counter Paul’s requests, you will feel the compulsion to obey his every command. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You will address Paul as master and you will never refer to him as Paul or Dr. Brighton unless you are in the presence of others.”
“Master...always my master.”
“Yes, Dick, and you will do everything in your power to be a good slaveboy. You need to fulfill all of Paul’s sexual needs. He’s depending on you, Dick! Do you want to let him down? Do you want to disappoint your one true love?”
“No, Sir.”
“Very good. Now, at the count of three, you will wake up and you will be so horny that you will not be able to control it. You will give your master the best damn blowjob he’s ever had. And after you’re done, you will have the most incredible urge to cum yourself. But you won’t be able to do so until you are given permission. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“1...2...3.”
Dick’s head bounced right back up and he greedily grabbed hold of my cock with his lips and sucked it into his mouth. My added conditioning did pay off after all. In a matter of minutes, I was cumming. I unloaded what seemed like gallons of spunk down his throat and he lapped it up, swallowing it down as if his life depended on it.
When I finished, I pulled out and zipped up my pants. Dick was still kneeling on the floor, with a pained expression on his face.
“You can stand up, boy!” I commanded.
“I can’t, master.”
“Why not?”
“You’ll see that I have aroused myself in the process.”
“Do you want to cum, Dicky boy?”
“Yes, master, please!!!!”
He was obviously in pain. I could tell he wanted to cum more than anything in the world. I thought about sending him out of the room and forcing him to spend the rest of the workday with the urge. I figured that would be a great form of payback, but then, I reconsidered.
“Dick, stand up!”
He hesitated a little, but eventually did as he was told. As he did so, I could see the most massive bulge in his pants. He looked ready to explode.
“Dick, before I can let you cum, you have to do one thing for me.”
“Anything,” he answered, his face showing signs of stress.
“I need you to take off all your clothes. If I am going to be your master, I need to know what I’m getting out of this deal.”
Once again, the mental conditioning kicked in and Dick Gaines, the man who had taught me to play baseball and how to light a campfire, began stripping off all of his clothes.
He took off his tie and his shirt, revealing a white T-shirt underneath. His nipples were erect and were making impressions through the shirt. His stomach was not half as bad as I had previously believed. He still had a beer belly, but it could be reduced significantly with more conditioning.
He slipped off his shoes, a pair of $120 businessman shoes, and kicked them into the base of the couch. He then unzipped his grey tweed pants and let them drop to the floor. He stepped out of them, wearing nothing but the T-shirt, some paisley boxer shorts and a pair of navy socks.
“I want to see the whole package, Dick.”
Following the command, he removed his T-shirt over his head, revealing a fairly well-defined tan chest and two very dark nipples. Next, removing the boxer shorts, I finally got to see what was behind the bulge in his pants. His dick was standing at a full 6″ attention, surrounded by a light brown patch of pubic hair that looked as if it was groomed on a daily basis.
He left the socks on, but I didn’t have a thing for feet, so I let him be. He looked as if he wanted to speak, but he was already learning the ways of being a servant.
“You really want to cum, don’t you, Dick?”
“Yes, master, please!”
I grabbed an ashtray that was sitting on a table nearby and handed it to him. “You may use this,” I said, “but don’t you even spill a drop on the floor. Do you understand?”
“Yes, master.”
“Very well, you may cum.”
With that, I touched the head of his penis and he began spewing forth his jism into the glass ashtray. He shot wide at first and a stream of cum hit the carpet. I let him finish before I reprimanded him for it. He had the most gratifying smile on his face, as he released all of his pent-up sexual frustration.
“You spilled,” I reprimanded him, as he ended his unloading.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry, master! Please forgive me! I didn’t realize it would come out so fast.”
“I think you need to clean that up before someone sees it.”
“Yes, certainly, master,” he replied, standing up and searching the room for a towel.
“Dick!”
“Yes, master.”
“When I said clean it up, I meant to do so with your tongue.”
Dick’s face turned white. This was an idea that he had never even considered, I could tell. But as the conditioning kicked in, he walked over to the spill and knelt down in front of it. Then, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue, he lapped up the excess cum off the carpet.
“Good boy!”
He smiled. Dick was taking to the conditioning better than I had imagined.