The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

When I was thirteen years old, I looked out the window, watching Cass mow the lawn next door. Every Saturday morning, instead of watching Saturday morning cartoons, I would lay in my bed, waiting for the sound of his lawn mower. When I heard the magic, that was his lawn mower—I would sit up and watch him mow the lawn. Back and forth. Shirt off. Long hair streaming. Muscles working. Sweat glistening.

Cass’ real name was Charles, but everyone in the neighborhood had called him Cass since before I can remember. Cass was five years older than I, and he was my brother’s best friend.

After months of watching him, I wondered why I was so interested. Eventually, it occurred to me. I was Gay. When I figured it out, it seemed so obvious—but being thirteen years old and infatuated with the seventeen year old neighbor is an awkward place to be. I never said anything.

The next year, he graduated high school, and he was gone.

When I was sixteen years old, Tommy Stubs and I were in my basement watching a bad, black and white horror movie—when the heroine was hypnotized by “The Evil Overlord”.

I popped a serious boner.

I popped a boner for two reasons: first, Tommy Stubs was the cutest guy in my class; second, I was suddenly infatuated with the idea that I could control someone completely.

Controlling people hadn’t been a long time fantasy of mine, or anything—but I was suddenly overwhelmed with the idea that I could completely control someone.

Hypnosis was nothing I had ever considered before—but now I realized that I could use hypnosis bend someone to my will. I could have complete control and domination. And Tommy Stubs was alone in the room with me.

I casually mentioned to Tommy that the hypnosis looked like fun. He made a noncommittal noise.

I said, “We should try that. I should hypnotize you.”

He laughed, and asked, “You can do that?”

“Sure,” I said. My voice sounded confident, but I had no idea if I could hypnotize anyone. More likely I would end up looking foolish. With as much confidence as I could muster, I added, “Not a problem.”

When the movie was over, we went to my room—and we looked up “hypnosis” on-line. I showed all the web-sites and how-to articles to Tommy—never admitting that I was learning about hypnosis as I read things out loud to him.

Tommy was placated, and with more idle curiosity than actual interest, he agreed to be my subject.

I read one of the stock hypnosis scripts—and, to my surprise, Tommy was soon nodding off to the sound of my calming words. His arm drifted up, like the script said it should. He stood when I commanded it. He answered questions. Like the web-pages suggested, I entranced him and woke him multiple times. Each time his hypnotic trance seemed deeper.

I told him to “... find an excuse for taking your shirt off”. When I woke him he removed his shirt, complaining about the heat in the room.

Finally, I told him that we would use hypnosis all the time, and he would find it fun and exciting.

That summer, Tommy Stubs came over to my house almost every day. Every time he did, he would ask me to hypnotize him, and I did.

I became bolder. I commanded Tommy to have his shirt off whenever we were alone together. I commanded Tommy to touch me, and enjoy my touching him.

Eventually, I commanded him to kiss me while he was still in a trance. It was wonderful. His lips were soft and warm. His breath was sweet. My hands rested on the back of his head. My fingers lightly touching his thick hair. He went through the motions without passion, almost robotically. I controlled his body, without controlling his desires.

I realized that I needed to inflame his passions, if I wanted to get a proper kiss outside of a trance.

I never had the opportunity to kiss him outside of a trance. Before I could work up the nerve to have the cutest guy in school kiss me properly, his father’s job was transferred to a different factory, and Tommy moved to a different state.

I was more than a little upset. My parents knew understood that I was unhappy seeing my friend move away, but they only knew half of the story.

I continued to study hypnosis, but without Tommy with me ... somehow it just wasn’t the same.

I became fascinated with hypnosis, and controlling another people. I read every word I could find on the subject. I looked at hundreds of web pages; read tens of thousands of words. I looked at hundreds, possibly thousands, of on-line video clips. I hypnotized several of my friends at school, with varying results. After Tommy, I managed to get only one other person deep enough to put commands in his head. I got him to take his shirt off and quack like a duck. It had been fun for him, and extremely erotic for me.

It was mid-spring of my senior year. In a couple of months, I was going to graduate from high school. I was eighteen and on top of the world. All my difficult classes were over, and I was preparing for an entire summer of relaxation and kicking back, before starting college.

I was looking forward to college. Everything I had heard about college was how much better college was than high school. I had seen the campus, and everything was somehow better. Even the students were better. Instead of boys, the students at college were men.

My brother told me how much better college was than high school, but he had gone directly to work after getting his two-year degree. I wasn’t certain what I was going to do after college. The entire college experience seemed a bit vague. I was enthusiastic to go to college—but I didn’t know if I was thrilled about going, or if other people had convinced me that I should be thrilled.

I definitely wasn’t as thrilled about going to college, as my family was thrilled about me going.

The best part about that spring was that it was nearly the end of high school, and I was getting ready for summer.

But better than any of that, that spring my neighbor Cass came home to visit. Not one of his usual week-long visits with his family.

By now, Cass had been away for five years. He had returned to spend the spring and early summer with his parents. He needed to be back in Europe before August, because he needed to work the busy August vacation season—which meant that this time, he was staying for several months.

I was going to have several months with Cass living right next door.

Right after my brother graduated high school, he went to college for two years, then got a job.

Right after high school, Cass had left home and spent five years traveling the world.

Cass had spent most of those years in Europe—where, as he said, if you don’t mind washing dishes for a living and sleeping on friends’ floor, you can have all the fun you can handle. He had wonderful stories about places he’d been, people he’d met, and things he’d done.

Cass was the reason I was Gay—or more accurately, watching my neighbor Cass work in his yard half-naked was how I discovered that I was Gay—and for at least three glorious months, he was back to living next door.

When I saw Cass for the first time after five-years, I recognized him immediately. He looked almost exactly the same. His appearance had changed only slightly in the five years he had been gone. His hair was longer. His tan was darker. He had a certain quiet confidence, that he hadn’t had before—but other than that, he looked the same. Once, when we were both standing in front of a mirror, I mentioned that we both looked eighteen years old. He smiled, and changed the subject.

He seemed much more worldly than I, and certainly much more traveled. I made up reasons to visit him, and ask him questions about Europe, about traveling, about things he had done.

Even though there was five years difference in our ages, we had a lot to talk about. Not only did we talk about traveling, we talked about ordinary things. We discussed life in our little town. We discussed sports and things we saw on TV. Eventually, I shared with him my misgivings about going to college.

We kept talking. You would think that we would run out of things to talk about, but our conversations ran on and on. We could talk for hours about the most inconsequential things. Our conversations were free formed, and without strain.

None of this meant that my thoughts of Cass were pure. Every day, he and I would talk. Every night I replayed our conversations in my mind. I thought about every subject, and every word. I thought about Cass, and his wonderful body. The two of us, so close together. While I replayed our conversations in my head—my hand would be, inevitably, drawn underneath the covers. My hand would find my dick. I would stroke myself furiously. In my frenzied thoughts, Cass would be discussing the parks of Paris, while I masturbated furiously.

Every day I would be with my friend Cass. Every night I would be with my lover Cass. At least, in my mind, he was my lover.

I wanted to express my love for him, but I lacked conviction. I lacked courage, and I worried about how he would react. I fretted about what Cass would say, and do.

Our parents worked, so we would sit in the cool of Cass’ house, private and uninterrupted for hours at a time.

Obviously, when I thought of Cass, I often thought of him as my hypnosis subject, bending to my will, unable to stop, yielding his mind and body to my desires.

When Cass had returned, the spring I turned eighteen, I would have offered to hypnotize him, but I was afraid of upsetting him—or scaring him off. I tried to think of some excuse to hypnotize him, some clever thing I could do for him—but as much as I tried, I couldn’t think of any reason that didn’t sound creepy, or weird.

Cass and I spent almost every afternoon together for two months, and we hadn’t noticed the passage of time. Before we knew it, I graduated.

One hot, summer day I went over to Cass’ house and found him in the back yard. He was just sitting in the shade of a tree, shirtless—staring blankly at the yard. In the crushing summer heat, Cass had a migraine. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. It looked like he couldn’t even think.

I helped Cass to his room. He sprawled, face down, on his bed. He was dizzy. He couldn’t even sit up. He told me that he was suffering with hot and cold flashes, and that he felt like he was going to throw up.

Cass explained to me, “I get these occasionally. If I lay down in the dark right away, and close my eyes, they usually go away quickly. This time I tried to lay down outside, which didn’t work. Now my migraine won’t go away, and I hurt too much to sleep.”

I was about to excuse myself, so he could recover without having me hover over him, when I suddenly realized that I had a valid reason to hypnotize him. If it worked, it would work. If it didn’t work, then I could explain away the attempt, as “trying to help”.

I smiled in what I hoped was a comforting way, “Do you mind if I try something?”

He nodded his head. Even that seemed to hurt.

I kicked off my shoes. As he lay on his bed, facedown—I sat on his butt, straddling him. I started massaging his bare shoulders. At first he seemed surprised. I hadn’t explained what I was going to “try”. After a moment, he relaxed.

I enjoyed touching Cass. His broad back and wide shoulders were firm. His skin was felt warm to the touch. His skin was soft and pleasant. The stress in his muscles melted under my fingers. It was exciting to have him so near to me, to have him underneath me. My hands are strong, and I quickly worked across his shoulders.

The muscles in his neck and shoulders were in knots. I asked, “Do you always have this much stress?”

Cass didn’t answer. His eyes slipped closed, as my hands kneaded his shoulders and back. After the shoulders, I went to work on his neck.

Even though I was busy working the tension out of his body, I felt my dick thicken. The subject of my lust was, literally, under my thumb.

I could feel the tension leaving Cass’ body. I said, “Just relax. The more you relax, the better you’ll feel. Relax, let all the stress flow out of your body. Let your head stop aching.”

I could tell that his head was still pounding. I worked back down his upper back. I enjoyed touching Cass. I think he enjoyed me working the tension out of his body.

I droned on about “relaxing”, “pain fading”, and “calm”.

I could feel the tension leaving his body.

I worked my thumbs down his spine, and told him about “relaxing”, “pleasure”, and “sleep”. I explained how the “increasing pleasure” in his body was in contrast to the “ebbing pain” in his head.

My experience with Tommy, and my experience with my classmates guided me. All those web-pages I read, helped.

I told him again and again to “relax”, “let the pain flow away”, and “let nothing bother you”. I went on like that for awhile. I kept repeating himself, droning on and on. I was making most of it up as I went along. A couple of times I didn’t know what I was going to say next, but I kept going. I rubbed and talked.

I told him to “relax” and “sleep”.

Cass rolled slowly onto his side, and lay curled up on his bed.

Even after Cass lay asleep in front of me, I kept massaging him. Careful to avoid touching his head, I worked the muscle groups of his front. I extended my massage to his legs, and other places I could politely reach. I told him that when he woke up, he would “wake without pain”.

After a ten minutes of massaging him in his sleep, I slipped the shoes off his feet, and covered him with a blanket.

I towered over him, as he lay helpless beneath me. I had such a rush of power, but touching him at this point might be a problem—especially if he woke, and found me taking advantage of him.

I switched off the room lights, closed his bedroom door, and let myself out of his house.

About three a.m. I was awoken by a text from Cass, Thx. Migraine gone. Sleeping now. Tomorrow?

I texted back, You’re welcome. Tomorrow sounds good. G’night.

That was the first time that I got rid of one of Cass’ migraines. After that, whenever he got a migraine, or even a small headache, Cass would ask me to help him. I would start rubbing his shoulders, and speaking softly. The pain would go away—sometimes it only took a few minutes, sometimes I would rub his shoulders for over an hour. Sometimes I rubbed him long after his pain had vanished.

I would also tell me to “relax” and a bunch of other things. Every time I took care of his migraine, I was deepening the trance, making it easier for me to get inside his subconscious.

Each time, I would say comforting things. His migraine would vanish.

When I made him feel good, I couldn’t wait to get to bed, so I could remember exactly how it felt when I touched him—and I could touch myself.

He would drift off to sleep, and I would get hard. I rubbed his back and shoulder, and any place I could politely reach.

Cass and I still had our epic conversations. We would talk about the most amazing things, and the most ordinary things. The more he talked about Europe, the more interested I became. Europe turned into an informal research project. After our talks, I would spend hours doing research the things he said, on-line. He enjoyed telling me things, and I enjoyed listening. I learned quickly that he had a much better world view. Not only was he five years older than me, and had spent the past five years traveling—he had a way of putting everything into perspective. He hadn’t just traveled, he had experienced and learned.

He talked about the people that he had met in Europe, and the woman he had dated. He made a special point to mention that he had been dating women. He left nothing to the imagination.

It was then, that I realized that he knew I was Gay. Why else would he specifically mention that he was dating women. He didn’t seem bothered with my Gayness, he just wanted me to understand that he wasn’t Gay.

Cass was, theoretically, my brother’s friend and visiting him—but my brother seemed to always be working. My brother was proud of how hard he worked, and proud of the money he made—but he was missing the wonderful opportunity of spending time with Cass. Cass was the most wonderful man in the world, and my brother was working, instead of spending any time with him.

Not that I minded. The less time my brother was with Cass, was more time I spent with Cass. Any opportunity to be with Cass was a joy for me.

Very late, one night, I was woken by a text message from Cass, Doing?

I didn’t want to let Cass know that he had woken me, so I texted back, Nothing = bored

He texted back, Migraine.

I texted, Come over here. Fix you.

He texted, Can’t. Pain. Family not here. Back door.

I jumped out of bed, and got dressed. I hopped the back fence, and let myself into his house through the back door. Even though it was very late, every light downstairs was on. It looked like no one had tried to switch off any lights. I called Cass’ name. Hearing no reply, I went upstairs to his room.

Cass was spread out in the middle of the upstairs hall, fully dressed, flat on the floor. Eyes closed, he clutched his phone in his hand. He looked like he had collapsed.

Hearing me approach, he opened one eye, then closed it. I have never seen anyone in more pain.

I switched off as many lights as I could, and still see what I was doing—then climbed on top of him, and started working on him, right in the middle of the hall.

I massaged him for hours. He lay under me, unmoving, as if he was dead. I worked his shoulders. I worked his back. I told him to “relax” and “be calm”. It was over an hour before I could get his shoes and socks off. Soon after that, I got his shirt off.

The sky was grey with pre-dawn, before I pulled the sheets and blankets off the bed, and half-guided, half-carried him to his bed.

I covered him with blankets, and still I worked his back and shoulders. My fingers massaged his legs and arms. I rubbed his temples and his brow.

The sun had peeked above the horizon, before he slipped off to sleep. I gently climbed off him, and off his bed.

For the first time, Cass spoke, “You are my best friend.”

I smiled at his kind words. “My brother is your best friend.”

Cass said, “Your brother is asleep. He is always working. You got up in the middle of the night to help me. You are my best friend.”

I rubbed his shoulders. “Sleep. Get some sleep. Feel better in the morning.”

He closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

I tip-toed out the bedroom door, went downstairs, switched off all the lights, and let myself out the back door.

As I was going back to bed, I realized something: normally when I’m alone with Cass, I have a raging hard-on. Tonight, while I was dealing with his pain, I didn’t. I was so concerned about Cass, that I didn’t spend any thoughts on the stunningly beautiful man under my fingers.

Did this mean I was being more mature? Or did it mean that I was feeling something more than lust, for my lovely neighbor? As I drifted off to sleep in the light of dawn, I had no answer.

One of the most fascinating things to me, was how Cass made his money on the road.

When he e-mailed people in the U.S., he generally told people that was “bar tending”, “washing dishes”, or that he was “taking odd jobs”—but he confided in me once that while, that sort of job is where he started out, he hadn’t done any menial labor for years. Cass told me that he had just left an unbelievably beautiful beach on an island, in the Mediterranean, where he had spent the winter renting jet-skis to tourists. He had left in spring to take advantage of the gap between the winter season, and the huge tourism crush in August. Normally he would spend spring in Northern Europe, or traveling to Asia or South America—but this year he had decided to come home for a couple of months.

The idea excited me, and depressed me. I loved hearing all his wonderful stories—but it was depressing, knowing that at in the height of summer, I would be getting ready for college and he would be going back to his perfect little island in the Mediterranean.

Soon I was massaging Cass twice a day, even if he had no migraine.

As one day stretched into another, the words coming out of my mouth changed subtly. At first it was simply a word or two that changed. Later it more profound. Slowly, persistently, I was changing the nature of what I was saying to Cass’ subconscious. He didn’t notice. I repeated my words, almost by rote—sometimes not paying close attention to what I was saying. One afternoon, while I was running my fingers down his back, I mentioned out loud that every time I massaged him, I “have a raging erection”. I was horrified when realized that I had said that out loud, and hoped that Cass hadn’t heard. It was certainly true, I had an erection every time I massaged Cass, but I certainly didn’t mean to say it.

Ten minutes later, while I was still massaging Cass, I saw that his shorts were tented. It was obvious that Cass had an erection.

Which brought an interesting question to my mind, Did Cass get an erection every time I massaged him, already? Or because I had accidentally put the words into his head? How deep was his trance, and how far could I go?

The more Cass talked about his island, the more real it became—and the less important college seemed. I watched my brother working every waking hour, and wondered how college could possibly make my life better? More enjoyable?

The next day, during a massages, I decided to get an answer to some of my questions. I told him " ... it is silly for us to be clothed when the two of us were alone. Naked was better. The two of us can be naked together.”

The next day, he removed his shirt before I started massaging him

A few days later, he removed his shirt, shoes, socks, and pants. I massaged him, while he was dressed only in his boxers.

The next day I mentioned to his subconscious that while we were alone together, “Naked together is the best thing we could do.” From then on, he stripped down to his boxers whenever we were alone together, not only when I was massaging him. He would, also, help me remove my shirt, shoes, and socks.

Being completely naked didn’t happen, until we were swimming alone. His parents had a pool. Since before I was born, in the heat of summer, both families would gather together for a swim in the evenings. That summer was no exception.

Since Cass and I were the only two that didn’t have jobs, we would often swim an hour or so after everyone else went to bed.

Late one night, Cass and I skinny dipped. The custom established, every night, weather permitting, we would wait until everyone had gone to bed, and we would ditch our swim suits at the pool’s ladder. Sometimes we would skinny dip into the wee-hours of the morning. Naked, swimming, but not quite touching. Cass called it “Naked Time”.

Our massages were still only a tiny part of our lives. We spent hours visiting. We would talk about things, and go do stuff. We’d catch movies or go to the lake. We still had a lot of fun just hanging out.

The hypnosis, the massages, and the Naked Time were a part of our lives that we never talked about. They were our private things. Secrets that we never mentioned to anyone.

Late one night, we were enjoying “Naked Time” in his pool, my hand accidentally brushed his shoulders, slid down his back, and rested briefly on his butt. Cass tensed, uncomfortable with the sudden intimate contact.

The next day, I had a chat with his subconscious. That night, during “Naked Time”, Cass swam next to me with his hand planted firmly on my butt. I reached for him, and he didn’t shy away. We swam in the wee hours, clutching each other. Several times, as he held me, I my ramrod hard dick pressed into Cass’ side. He must have noticed.

Now that I knew how much control I had of Cass, I used every trance to reprogram him. Little by little, I bent my dear friend to my will.

The next night, During “Naked Time” Cass’ dick was fully engorged. While we hugged and touched in the pool, several times his erection was pressed into my side.

The next night, his hand brushed my dick several times. Eventually touching and stroking briefly. That same night, I grabbed his dick and stroked it. I stroked it longer than he had stroked me. After several minutes, his hand came back to my dick, and we stroked together.

Kissing took two days of encouragement. I still had to be careful. I didn’t want to force him to kiss me. He might wake, or panic. Even after two trances a day for several days, I wasn’t certain I had properly convinced his subconscious.

He didn’t kiss me for the first time in the pool. We were in his bedroom. As we were alone, we were only wearing our boxers. I was headed home for dinner. I reached for my pants. I said, “I’ll see you later, for ‘Naked Time’.”

Cass suddenly grabbed my shoulders, and held me. I wasn’t certain what he was up to. Briefly I panicked, thinking that he finally realized I was hypnotizing him, and he was angry. Despite spending two days with my fingers in his mind, I was surprised when he pressed his lips against mine.

Startled, I didn’t kiss back. I was stunned at how nice it felt. His warm body close to mine. His firm grip holding me, controlling my movement and keeping me still.

I kissed him back. Years of desire and months of my raging hard-on pressed into his hot body, as I hypnotized him and reprogrammed him, were finally rewarded. I grabbed his head, and held him tight. My fingers filled with his thick hair, I pulled him closer—willing his body to be closer. He smelt warm and clean. He had a slight musky, manly smell. Oddly, his hair smelt faintly of raspberry shampoo. His hair felt cool and soft in my hands. His breath was sweet and hot against my face.

Cass pressed me back against the wall. He leaned into me, squeezing me, holding me, controlling me. Cass was larger than me, and considerably stronger. If he wanted to, he could do anything he wanted to me. I would be unable to resist. He was so much stronger, that struggling would be futile.

I was thinking about the irony of my using mind to control Cass’ mind utterly, and now Cass was using his body to control my body utterly—when his tongue shot into my mouth.

My body pinned to the wall, my mouth violated, and my will sapped—I yielded to his strength.

My tongue welcomed his tongue. They danced and played in my mouth. Then they danced and played in his mouth. His left hand reached around my shoulders, holding me tightly, crushing me with his arm—preventing me from moving. His right hand shot down my boxers. He held my thickening dick tightly. Holding it like it belonged to him. In many ways, it did. As we stood there, he took possession of my body. There was nothing that I could have done to prevent him from doing anything he wanted.

And the best part of this; I didn’t want him to stop.

My body was held motionless by his left arm. My mouth was controlled by his tongue. My so-hard-it-hurts dick was clamped in his vice-like right hand.

I sighed into his mouth—yielding myself, surrendering myself.

When he abruptly let go, and ran out of the room.

Cass didn’t show up at the pool that night. His parents said that he “wasn’t feeling well”. When both families were finished using the pool, and everyone went to bed complaining about having an “early morning”—I was left alone. I stayed at the pool for another half hour, hoping that Cass would come outside for “Naked Time”, but he never showed. Eventually, I went inside, and went to bed.

The next morning, I texted him, Missed “Naked Time”.

He never responded.

I texted him several times over the next two days. I invited him to join me in a bike ride to the reservoir and a trip to the mall. I got no response.

On the third day, my parents took a long weekend trip. They were going on a four day holiday. My brother was on a “business retreat”. I was going to be alone in the house for three nights. My first thought was how wonderful it would be for Cass to sneak into my house, when everyone was away. He could sneak in, and have his way with me. We could finally have sex.

The only problem was that I couldn’t get ahold of him. I sent several texts. I left two voice mails. He never responded. Nothing.

One minute he was kissing me. The next minute he was completely out of my life.

Had he realized that I had been hypnotizing him? Was he mad? Was there something I could do? Should I bang on the door? Should I sneak in his room, and hypnotize him while he slept?

While I was having these various thoughts—I glanced out my bedroom window, and saw him sprawled, face down, in the middle of his back lawn. Obviously in a huge amount of pain, he was having a migraine.

I hopped the back fence, and started working on his shoulders.

He lay helpless. As I worked his back, he seemed to melt into the grass. I barely spoke any of my trance words, when I realized that he was already completely under. Some days he would resist going under. Other days he would be completely helpless to my words.

This was one of the days that he completely helpless.

It was the work of a few minutes to get rid of his migraine. As I worked down his back, I told his subconscious I would be alone in the house that night. I ordered him to surprise me in my room that night. I ordered him to take my virginity. I ordered him to explain why he left me while kissing.

That night, I woke with a finger up my butt. Cass was naked. I was too, so he must have removed my boxers. My blankets were on the floor. I lay on top of my bottom sheet, with a pillow under my lower back. My butt was up in the air. Cass towered over me.

While I marveled at this strange situation, Cass pulled out his finger, and pressed in two fingers. It should have hurt, but somehow it didn’t. I felt wonderful. I couldn’t move, and I didn’t want to move. What I had been dreaming of for five years was about to happen. I had wanted this since I was thirteen years old, and now, because of my hypnosis, it was going to happen.

Two fingers became three.

Cass pulled his fingers out, and put on a condom.

I was ready. I was Eighteen years old, and I was about to give my virginity to the sexiest man in the world.

Cass was on top of me. We were both naked. Cass had a condom on his dick.

He hesitated.

I asked him, “Why are you waiting? I’m ready.”

Cass had a horrified look on his face, as if he had been caught doing something terrible. In a small voice, he said, “I want to fuck you.”

I said, “Perfect. I want you to fuck me.”

He stopped, and gave me a hard look. He started to say something, then stopped himself. He started again, then said nothing.

I asked, “Are you o.k.?”

He replied in a way that made me wonder if he had heard my question, “I’m not Gay. I have never wanted a guy before. This isn’t something that I ever wanted before, but I want you. All this started suddenly two months ago. Something I never wanted.

Cass gave a weak smile, and continued. “This started innocently. A massage from my friend. A little Naked Time.

Cass stood up, and reached for his pants. “I took advantage.”

Horrified, I realized that he was going to leave, without taking my virginity. He was going to sneak out—without taking that one thing, that I desperately wanted to give him. I had wanted him for years. For five years I had dreamt of this moment, yearned for this moment, prayed for this moment.

His false sense of honor was going to chase him out.

I clutched his hand in mine. I held him so tightly, that if he pulled his hand away, he would have lost a finger.

I said, “Are you serious? You aren’t taking advantage. I have wanted you since I was thirteen years old. When I was thirteen, and you were seventeen, I used to watch you through that window. You would mow the lawn. I would spend hours staring down at you. By the time I figured out that I was Gay, and figured out what it was that I wanted—you graduated high school, and moved to Europe.

I continued, “We are together. We played and explored. You are here in my bed. I want you. I have always wanted you. If you don’t take me right now, I will die of frustration.“

Cass kissed me softly, for the first time. I still remember how that felt. More then anything that had happened before, or happened since, that was the most intensely intimate moment of my young life. The tenderness of that moment made everything o.k. Still to this day, when Cass kisses me, everything is o.k.—even when everything isn’t o.k.

Cass stopped kissing, and gave me a serious look—he slid his dick in my ass. That was the most intensely painful moment of my life.

Great burning, stabbing shocks of pain filled my ass, as pleasure swept through my body. I was filled and happy. Pain became pleasure. We kissed and held each other.

I thought that I couldn’t be more uncomfortable, Cass pressed all the way inside me. I didn’t quite scream with pain. Cass distracted me with his story.

When Cass had been seventeen, he wasn’t nearly the virgin that I had been when I was seventeen. Back then, he had noticed me staring down at him through the window. He knew that I was Gay, possibly before I figured it out for myself—but my Gayness didn’t bother him.

He had always thought of me as the goofy kid next door.

He had been shocked when he returned to find that I was eighteen years old and a grown man.

He explained that our friendship had led to massage, which had led to Naked Time.

He knew that I lusted for him, but he was surprised when he started to lust for me. I hadn’t the heart to explain to him about the hypnosis. I couldn’t bring myself to explain that his desire for my young, strong body was because of commands that I had carefully placed inside of his head. He knew that our lust for each other was changing each other—but more importantly, our love for each other was changing ourselves.

Cass gave a few little thrusts with his hips. Pain shot through my body. Pleasure sweep through my body.

A few more little thrusts gave me the courage to kiss him. I bent my body forward. My lips felt his. My world was good.

I said, “I’m ready.”

Cass smiled and said, “I love you. Years ago, I liked you. This summer, when we started our epic talks, I found a friend. But now, I love you.”

I said, “I think I love you too. I’m not certain I know what love is, but I think I love you.”

Cass said, “That’s good enough for now.”

With that, Cass started to fuck me. Each plunge better than the last. What started as a mechanical act of humping-and-pumping, quickly turned into an emotional romp. The pain vanished. Pleasure swept through me. Discomfort gave way to ecstasy. Nothing had prepared me for the what my body was being subjected to. I thought of Cass. I thought of all his wonderful traits. I thought of how wonderful it was to give my virginity to someone I loved. Soon, I stopped thinking of anything at all.

Cass and I. The two of us. Together. Sweat and passion.

Suddenly I felt my balls ride up tight against my body. Great moans came from me. I didn’t mean to, it just happened. My arms flailed about.

Cass and I looked in each other’s face. For a split second the entire world came to a stop.

We shouted our passion into each other’s faces.

Cass thrust into me. I clawed at his back. We trembled together. Both collapsed onto the bed.

The dam was broken, we fucked every night. We fucked every day. Fucking and sucking replaced trips to the mall. Instead of taking our bicycles to the lake, we sucked each other off in the cool of the afternoon. Late night “Naked Time” in the pool became marathons of mutual masturbation.

Weeks later, Cass and I were in my room, flipping through the college catalog, picking classes and planning out my schedule for the upcoming semester. As much as we looked, I couldn’t seem to find anything interesting. Not having a major, and not having any specific goals didn’t help. In fact, I struggled to remember why I was going to college. I had been so focused on leaving high school, and the idea of going to college—that I hadn’t spend any time thinking about what actually being in college would be like. I suddenly found the prospect of two years of junior college, and possibly two more of state university, more than depressing. I found myself nauseated.

Unnoticed by me, while I perused college level Algebra and Trigonometry, Cass had silently slipped out of his shirt and pants.

I looked up, surprised by his nakedness. I hadn’t commanded him to strip. He stood before me, in his naked glory. Facing me, he straddled me, as I sat on my bed—his erect dick pressing into my belly. Grabbing my head in viselike fingers, he kissed me. Surprised, I did the best I could to respond to his surprisingly aggressive mood.

Cass freed my thickening dick from my shorts. He pulled a condom and my bottle of lube from the top drawer of my dresser. It was the work of a few seconds for him to get the condom on my dick, and slaver lube on my dick.

I was surprised. First, I hadn’t used any hypnosis to force him to have sex with me. Second, all the times that we had sex, I had never fucked him. We had jerked each other off, we had sucked each other off, or he fucked me—but I had never been on top.

Any all my attempts to mount him, had been met with an absolute refusal. It was the one boundary that he would not cross—this one act that he wouldn’t do.

He eased down. His rose pressed, ever so gently on the end of my prick. No penetration. Only the promise of bliss.

I wanted to thrust up. To jam my dick into his ass—but, I was afraid of moving too quickly. I was afraid of startling him into changing his mind.

With a deep, careful breath I calmed the animal urge to get inside him.

I opened my mouth to speak, and he covered my mouth with his kisses. His sweet caresses warmed me. My ears buzzed. He pressed his body down. The end of my dick pressed inside his body. The conflicting sensations of pleasure and pain played out across his face. I watched as he dealt with discomfort, and joy.

Almost a minute went by, his ass only partially violated, before he started to kiss me again. His body stiff and unbending, he had to arch his neck uncomfortably down, for his lips to reach my lips.

When he spoke, it was with a quiet lyric tone—for a moment, I wondered if he was entranced. Then I realized, he was speaking quietly because of the unfamiliar sensation of having a dick in his ass. In that moment, I realized that not only had he never let me fuck him, he had never let anyone fuck him. His ass was virginal—or it had been, two minutes before. Cass said, “I will go to college with you, if you want. I want to stay with you. If you go to college, I’ll go too.” He kissed me again, then added, “Even if it’ll probibly kill me.”

I didn’t know what he meant about college killing him. I thought briefly of hypnotizing him, and demanding an answer—but somehow that didn’t seem the right thing to do. Instead, I reached up and grasped his shoulders. I dug my fingers into his lovely, smooth man-flesh. Ignoring what he had just told me—I pressed his shoulders down, impaling his ass on my dick. He bore down. I could feel his muscles shift, and his ass eased down onto my dick. He didn’t resist. He lowered himself onto me. With one long, smooth motion—he mounted me. Joined, we both sighed: my sigh of bliss and contentment, his sigh of joy and discomfort.

He being so much shorter than I, we kissed with only a slight tilting of our heads. My head tilted slightly up, and his tilted slightly down, we ravished each other.

This only lasted a few seconds, for his pain caused him to raise up, trying to get my dick out of his ass.

I let him get most of the way off, then I pulled down again on his shoulders, keeping him from slipping completely off my dick.

I distracted him with a question, “What do you mean? About college killing you?”

Cass blinked. Focusing again on the moment. He said, “I don’t mean actually killing me. I mean ... " Cass stopped. I could see him work out what he wanted to tell me. He continued, “Five years ago, I left. I knew that college wasn’t the place for me. I went to Europe. I found a job to keep me fed. I spent five years traveling and seeing the world. I work when I needed money. I move on ...”

Cass stopped in the middle of his sentence, and bore down on my dick again. He pushed his ass down, impelling himself. With a gasp, he kissed me. And eased himself back up.

Again, I stopped him from coming completely off my dick.

I gasped. He had surprised me. I hadn’t expected him to ride my dick like that.

With a sigh, he continued, as if he hadn’t done a thing, “... I move on when I get bored. I’ve had dozens of jobs, in half-a-dozen countries. I’ve lived ...”

Again he rode down my dick. This time he stayed fully impelled longer. When we kissed, the tension that gripped his body, although still there, was lessened. He was obviously enjoying my dick in his ass a lot more now, than he had when we first started.

He rode up my dick and continued, again, as if he had never interrupted himself, “... half-a-dozen countries. I’ve lived. I’ve loved. I’ve been broke. I’ve been flush with cash. I’ve never been bored. There is ....”

Cass rode my dick down and up several times. Each time he raised himself up, I clutched his shoulders, to prevent him from slipping off my knob.

He continued, “... There is nothing for me at college. Except you. If that is where you are going to be. I’ll go too.”

Cass pressed down again. He sighed. This time with joy and pleasure. We kissed. In that moment, I could refuse him nothing. I wanted him more than anything in the world. I would have traded the rest of my life, just to roll him onto his back, and fuck him.

What little part of my brain that was still working at that point considered how things had changed in just a few minutes. Cass was my subject. With hypnosis, I controlled him utterly. With a few movements of his hips and ass, he controlled me utterly.

What did I want? How could I love him? Why did I love him? Did I love him? Did that matter? Did he love me? Did that matter? I love him, because? I loved him, because of who he was. I loved him, because of what he was. If we went to college, would that kill him? Would that destroy him?

While I was working that out, my mouth blurted out a question, “What would we do?”

He smiled, “I could teach you. We could wander the world. I would show you how to live in the world. I’ll take you to all the wonderful places I’ve been. I’ll take you to placed I’ve always wanted to see. And we would avoid all the mistakes that I made. We would have the advantage of being together, of having each-others back, of helping each other through the rough spots.”

It was an attractive idea. But, reason reared its ugly head. I asked, “How could we afford to ...”

Cass interrupted me, “I make more money than your brother does. Much more. Those jet-skis I rent to tourists? I own those jet-skis. I haven’t said anything, because I don’t want to offend him—but while he makes an honest paycheck for hard work-check—I make a SHIT-LOAD of cash, for not doing much at all.”

With my dick pressed fully inside of him, I rolled us both over. Neither Cass or I had never done this, so our rolling wasn’t exactly graceful—but I ended up on top, Cass on his back, under me. His legs splayed out, as I pressed inside of him.

I fucked him, as I thought about what he had said.

I fucked him, as I thought about what we could do.

I fucked him, as I thought about all the possibilities.

I fucked him, as I thought about nothing at all.

In a moment of intensity, we climaxed. Together.

Both controlling.

Both controlled.

Exhausted, we landed side by side. Gasping for breath, I thought of nothing.

Then I made up my mind.

My mother was upset. She was determined that both her children should go to college. She argued against the idea of “Going off to Europe, and becoming a bum”.

My father didn’t say anything about the idea for two days. After he had thought the idea through, he did, he said to me, “When I left the Navy, I moved to Santa Barbara, and surfed. For two years, I waited tables at night, and surfed during the day. He gave me a happy little smile and said, “I was broke most of the time, but I have wonderful memories of life on that beach.” He gave me a look and said, “I’ll smooth things over, with your mother ... if you want to go to Europe with your ... um, friend.”

Which was my first indication that my father knew that I was Gay.

Surprisingly, it was my brother that took things the hardest. He was losing his brother, and he was losing his “best friend”. A friend that had been out of his life for five years. A friend that my brother had practically ignored the entire time of his visit. He seemed to think that he was being cheated out of something. Cass asked my brother to come with us, but my brother refused. My brother “couldn’t afford to leave work”. I told him that Cass made good money, and I was going to make good money—and that he could make good money, too. My brother didn’t seem to care. I didn’t want to shame my brother by saying that Cass made a “shit load” of cash.

Father drove Cass and I to the airport. As we parted, he handed me a one-hundred dollar bill. He said, “Put that in your wallet and keep it there. Don’t take it out, unless you are having a serious emergency. A hundred dollars won’t get you home. But if you get in a jam, a hundred dollars will get you a phone call. If things go badly, call home.”

Two weeks after abandoned my college plans, and decided to go to Europe—I was on an island that I had never heard of, helping a nice lady rent a jet ski.