The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A shirtless but unpainted Tommy came over a couple of nights later. Jason was out of town on a gig—his last one for a while, because after much discussion we were getting him back to college.

“You got a cigarette or something?” There are some things beyond the power of hypnosis. Jason had left part of a box behind.

“Where’s Max?” The non-street version of Tommy’s response: “Max and I broke up. We cleaned him up and gave him complete amnesia before he went home the other night, but he was past his curfew, his parents couldn’t stand that he had shaved his head, and they put their foot down. So he’s like grounded for life. By the way, he’s basically my slave, you know. I seduced him under hypnosis. I didn’t get him started smoking, but I got him looking good at it. All our sex was with him under. If I called him right now, I could put him under over the phone and make him forget he even had parents. But if he has a chance for a normal life with caring parents, which I didn’t have, I’m not going to rob him of it. Anyway, I wasn’t really in love with him. It was just one of those things.”

“But you were in love with Jason. Why didn’t that go anywhere?” “Jason didn’t tell you? He asked me to cool it because he was afraid it would mess up his relationship with you.” As if I wasn’t about to do the same thing.

The conversation continued. Suddenly I noticed that he had gone a little wall-eyed. This happens with people who grew up with amblyopia or “lazy eye.” He was under. It wasn’t my voice this time. I hadn’t done any monologues. He had put himself under. “Tommy, you’re under, aren’t you?” “Yeah.” “What gives?” “I came here wanting to do this.” I hadn’t done the induction so, “Tommy, will you accept one or two suggestions from me?” “Always, Paul.” “When I put my hand on your shoulder I want you to be your usual bright, alert self and tell me what’s really on your mind.” Newly “awake,” Tommy said, “I’m lonely. I’ve always felt comfortable here. I—I wouldn’t mind being with you. Somehow I always confuse hypnosis with sex.” Brother, I had created another monster, by proxy this time.

In spite of the fact that you read in the papers about teachers “abusing” their students or parents their children, it is very rare. Once you establish an authority figure relationship, all thoughts of sexuality vanish. There might be the occasional fantasy, but that’s about it. But I couldn’t help looking at (legal) Tommy in a new way now. He was a little dish. That red hair, just short of shaved because of the other night. (I had always wanted him to play around with the length; maybe now it would happen.) That round face with the wide, open features. His eternally cheerful demeanor in contrast to the irresistable trancy way he looked when he was under. His perfectly proportioned freckly body which I had been privileged to see in whole. His nice hands. (After years of being forced to look anywhere but directly in a cute guy’s face, I had become something of a body parts fetishist.) He was one of those freckled red-heads who can still take on a nice tan, though he wasn’t tanned now.

“Jason tells me you have real soft hands,” he said. This was true. Most of my partners have mentioned it. White collar work, lots of use of mineral oil. I think it was more than softness. I play the piano. I just know how to move my hands around on a guy’s body. “Are you sure you want to find out?” “Yes, I’m sure.” We were together on the couch. I’ve always been a top-down person, and I couldn’t resist that semi-shaved head. I could have spent an hour just on that. “Aren’t you going to take anything off?” Oh yeah. Why don’t we both just strip and get it over with. Except let me do you first. These were my thoughts; I didn’t say it, I just did it. Where the hell did these young guys get the idea that boxers are sexier than briefs? Maybe I could buy some designer briefs for this one and convert him. No matter now. We were past the underwear stage.

Before I could make much progress on Tommy, he had his hands all over my chest and abdomen. Slowly, very slowly. How unusual for a young lover. Understand, I’m a good-looking man for my age, but I am my age. I probably could have had a lot of fun in my youth if I hadn’t been so repressed and over-supervised and nerdy. (I probably also could have contracted AIDS—that’s the trade-off.) But I didn’t expect to turn gay heads these days. Tommy was absolutely fascinated. Then I looked at his face, and it had that trancy look again. “What are you seeing, Tommy?” “Colors. Great colors. Texture.” I really had created a monster. A very lovable monster. Well, having him hypnotize himself while making love with me was better than the combination of LSD and Ecstasy he seemed to be on. “Tommy, may I give you a suggestion?” “Sure.” “I want you to remember this. No amnesia. Also, I want you to work it out in your own mind that you’re with Paul, not some pure fantasy. Also, we’re going to have to move on with the love-making.” It was already almost midnight. Those suggestions don’t sound like they belong in either a love-making or hypnotic session, but it was that or shake him awake. “OK” was the only response I got.

I had gotten through. God knows what went on in his head for the rest of the time, but we made it work. I moved his hand to my mouth. “What?” “Work your fingers in my mouth and I will you too.” A great way of making a guy’s mouth hot for the next step. He tasted and smelled of smoking. He had done a lot more than the one with me. I loved that smell and taste. A life-long turn-on for me. Then he said “soixante-neuf?” Where do these younger guys get their sophistication? I suppose he had gotten access to porn.

Now you know how I feel about the 69 thing. I hadn’t done it with Jason in all the time we’d been lovers. I always felt my brain was wired so I can only give or receive but not both at the same time. Somehow, it seemed the right thing to do with Tommy. It took us a while to find a comfortable position. I was the naive one here. So we were going at each other and I’m a lot more into making Tommy happy than noticing what’s going on with me (well, he wasn’t going to change my basic personality in one session). And then I noticed that Tommy was out of trance and making a face. It was my pre-cum. “I’m sorry, man, I should have told you I get real wet.” And for the first time that evening I gave him a real hug. And got one right back. And some tears! “I would never cum in your mouth,” I said. “It would be ok if you did.” “No, it wouldn’t” I said firmly and paternally. “If anyone ever does, spit it out and gargle with Listerine. But people who get wet with pre-cum can’t help it. It’s probably no more dangerous than kissing.”

Oh brother, here I was interrupting one of the great love-making experiences of my life to give a lecture on safe sex to someone whose relationship with me was, shall we say, borderline. “I know you’re healthy, Paul. I trust you.” “Don’t ever, ever go that way. Never have unprotected sex. Never fuck or let yourself be fucked without a condom. Never, ever, ever.” Now the guy is really crying. Better stop there. Five years of semi-paternity with this guy and I had to wait for this moment to have the safe sex talk. Drugs we had gone over a number of times, and I hope successfully. How had Jason and I managed to overlook this?

So having hugged him back into some state of comfort, I said, “Look, tonight was a kind of experiment. It doesn’t have to go anywhere you don’t want it to. Let me give you two possibilities: You can just dress and go home, or we can finish ourselves off with our hands. And thank the living Lord, he chose the second option. Without a moment’s hesitation, he reached for me, then I for him. It’s a great way to end even messed-up sex, folks. Then—something else we hadn’t done all night. I instinctively reached for a kiss. Just yesterday this would have seemed insanity. And a lot of guys just reject your offer of a kiss. But before I could realize that I was doing something, er, different, I had a great kissing partner. It was the perfect ending to an imperfect evening.

It was so late when he went home. Thank God his mother didn’t enforce a curfew anymore. Her days of wondering about him and Jason and me were long over. She knew that he would be less than a whole person if it hadn’t been for us.

“Next time, Paul, I have an idea. Let’s hypnotize each other and make each other up.” This body paint thing had become a real fetish for him. Not that it didn’t have its appeal for me, too. “Jason is coming back tomorrow,” which we had both conveniently forgotten. “Oh, yeah. Maybe we can do a three-way.” At least he didn’t say menage-a-trois. Again that bright enthusiasm that was one of his endearing traits. Overcoming his emotional state of earlier in the evening. It was good to see. “We’ve got a couple of problems. First, yeah, I’d love to get made-up with you, that’s no problem. Mutual hypnosis? I’ve heard of it happening but don’t have a clue how to make it work. And Jason and I have done three-ways, etc. and it always ended up being a bad idea. And we have never tried it with someone we practically raised. [All this realizing that it was one hot idea.] And finally, I have a lot of explaining to do to Jason. I’m not going to hide that we made love. I don’t know how he’ll react.”

So with a little bit of precocious understanding Tommy gave me one last hug. I suddenly realized that I had still not “soft-handed” that beautiful body of his. Oh well. He bummed one more cigarette, and he was off into the night.

Jason came back the next day exhausted, so we just slept together, and I waited until breakfast to tell him. And I told him in a straightforward manner, with a little air of apology. He’d either explode or he wouldn’t. He was thoughtful for a few moments—this was his style. He was working through unbelief, anger, puzzlement. He wouldn’t explode. It’s not like I was confessing to murdering his parents (who by the way cordially ignored me and expected Jason to come running back to straight life at any moment). The gist of the long conversation that followed was that we both loved Tommy, and we had to figure out where to go from here.

In the course of the conversation, I conveyed that Tommy considered Max to be his “slave,” and that Tommy had suggested a three-way with Jason and me. Also that all attempts to get anyone to stop smoking had been without success. Hypnosis had certainly not failed to complicate at the same time it enriched our lives. “Let me think about it for the day,” said Jason. “We’ll talk about it again tonight.” Like I said, a guy who deserves to complete his education. A guy emphatically not for Ricki Lake. A guy I didn’t deserve, except that my years of gay guilt had earned some kind of reward.

Jason was pretty burnt out on hypnosis. It does get pretty monotonous when you do those shows all the time. He had been pretty solemn lately, facing this change in status to becoming a student again. Thank God, he hadn’t lost his sense of fun entirely. Here’s the gist of our evening conversation. “What do you think about this notion that Max is Tommy’s slave?” “I think it’s the wrong word to use. But I think that Tommy is not exaggerating about his influence over Max.” “OK, you know that three-way with Tommy and you and me ain’t-a-gonna work. We’ve had better luck with four or more in the room.” That’s my Jason. Thanks, man. “But Max is under strict grounding. He may be legal for us, but we can’t mess around with his parents’ wishes. And he has strict parents.” “He has to go to and from school, doesn’t he? His parents can’t be watching him every freaking minute. If we can’t find a way to make this work, we’ve really lost our touch.”

So we had Tommy over. And of course he was dying of curiosity about how we were going to proceed. Be patient, man. “Do you really think you have this complete power over Max?” “Absolutely. I wish I could prove it.” “Maybe you can. I know he’s grounded, but...” and we relayed our plan to Tommy. So we’re on the phone, when Tommy knew Max’s parents couldn’t overhear. Heck, this is going to sound like one of those stories from a mind control site. It was very erotic for Jason and me, and I suppose Tommy too. “Max, I want you to relax the way you used to. Don’t fall down or drop the phone. Stay on the line with me but relax and let yourself go into the deepest possible state. I’m going to count backwards from ten and when I get to zero you will be in the deepest state you have been in and ready to follow my suggestions.” The count.

“Max, you will find a time to come to Paul’s place when your parents will not know what is happening. You will not miss school for this, but it has to be a time when you can spend a couple of hours here without your parents finding out. You will call this number back within 24 hours and give us the time. You will follow my instructions at the time you call back.”

No problem, I guess. I had to take a personal day to accommodate Max’s schedule, but that’s not a problem either. All we had to do was decide a scenario. “Can you leave that to me and Jason?” said Tommy. Sure. Jason hadn’t been hypnotized since me and Joey all those years ago. He might still be hypnotizable, but I don’t think he was interested. He certainly wasn’t going to go under because someone held up a pendant and said “you are getting sleepy.” So the arrangement was that Jason would fit into the scenario but once again he would be the wide-awake one to make sure things didn’t get out of hand.

We kind of had to do a double induction because Max was, well Tommy’s slave is really not a bad description, while I was still hard to put under because I had to dismiss the analytic and experienced part of my brain. So Max watched pretend porn on TV while Tommy did another Jason-assisted induction. At one point—I was still not under enough, so I remember this—Tommy had to restrain Max with a suggestion so he didn’t just cum from jerking off. Not that it matters much at that age.

It was a long, complex, imaginative session, so I can only give you some of the highlights. I knew I was really under when I looked at Max and saw him as the most attractive guy I had ever seen. He didn’t look different to me. He was just gorgeous and attractive the way he was. It seems he and I were the only hypnotized ones. Tommy’s idea about mutual hypnosis was too hard to work out. As for me, I was—sigh—Tommy’s twin. Max saw me as the guy he loved without knowing the feeling was not reciprocated, and I saw myself as a filled-out, built, tanned version of Tommy, with my red hair long and swept back. Tommy transformed into a young god. Jason reading my mind again.

So Tommy and Jason got into the body paint thing. Jason had never done this before. He loved it. They smeared that stuff all over each other till kingdom come (or cum). Meanwhile, I was busy with Max. I had my hands all over this vision of heavenly beauty, and he reciprocated. This guy still never talked. Max had dirty blond hair that was never cut properly. I ran my hand through it as though I was in heaven. I was probably going to get zits from having my face against his, but it never occurred to me to notice. There was some suggestion there—yes, now I could go into a 69 with Max and get as good as I gave. And Max would not notice the pre-cum. Yes, heavenly sex. And then the big decision. Well, Jason really knew me. Max had a dick of a reasonable size. He did a great job on me. Slow, as I like it. The point is stimulating the prostate—a lot of guys don’t know that. This guy was practically pushing cum out of me.

It was finished. Jason and Tommy had made such a mess that I might have to hire professional cleaners. They looked real hot, though, before they took their shower. They had more or less gone for the military camouflage look, which has always been a turn-on for me. They had done their hair and everything. Jason lit a cigarette and held it to Tommy’s mouth for a hit. A big hit. One of the hottest things I have ever seen. I looked down at Max and had an abiding feeling of affection for this pimply, geeky thing who a few minutes ago had seemed the pinnacle of young male perfection to me. I wanted to do the same cigarette thing with him. “No, Paul, he’s got to go home. He’ll get in trouble if his parents smell smoke on him.” I took Tommy aside. “You’ll make sure he remembers this as a happy experience, doesn’t come here again unless I want it, and doesn’t get into any trouble with his parents?” “Already taken care of, Paul.” Then Max: “Can you just give me one for later? I can sneak it so my parents won’t know.” The first time I have ever heard two words in a row from him. So we give him the remainder of the pack, and a lighter. His parents don’t have x-ray vision.

We sent Max home so as not to miss his deadline. When they were showered and dressed, Jason walked Tommy to the door. They both looked at me. Tommy really was a pinnacle, Jason an only slightly older one. I joined them. Me to Tommy: “You knew I had it in me to love Max, didn’t you?” “He needs love. You’re a loving person. It was a natural match.” We had a big group hug, and having only succeeded in complicating our lives more than ever, we parted.