The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Okay, Sean, I’m off”, my father said, putting down his suitcase near the door so we could say goodbye. “I know I already told you most of this, if not all of it, but just to be sure…I’ll be back sometime on Friday, exactly three weeks from now. There should be enough food for almost that long, though I’m sure you’ll run out of a few essentials before then. I left money for any groceries you need locked in my desk drawer. You know where the key is. There should be more than enough there, so you and Ethan can probably order in a couple of times if you want.

“And speaking of your brother, I imagine he’ll be back from your mother’s place before I return, but I didn’t even try to tell him when to be back by, cuz I didn’t want to put his back up. Even as devoted as your brother is to Carol, he’ll probably get sick of her sooner or later. I don’t know if he’ll call you for a ride home or what, so be sure to check your phone regularly.

“Oh, and if you do have to go to your mother’s place to pick him up, or if she shows up here, try to at least be polite to her…and tell her I said hi.” I looked at him with a raised eyebrow and he leaned in, lowering his voice as if telling me a secret he didn’t want others to hear despite the fact that Ethan was already out in the car. “It’s the fastest way to get away from her. Otherwise, she’ll probably start with the histrionics.” I smiled and nodded in thanks for the advice.

“If anything comes up, don’t hesitate to give me a call. My cell’s always on. Oh, and I asked my physiotherapist, Vicente Vasquez, to look in on you once in a while, just to make sure you’re alright”, Dad finished.

“Seriously, Dad? Haven’t you been listening to what Ethan and I have been saying? I’m almost certain that’s the same creep who likes to hang out at the skate park and stare at the older guys. I mean, how many gay Hispanic guys are there in that area of the city? Hell, how many Hispanic guys are in Saskatoon at all? Besides, Ethan and I hardly need a babysitter at our age”, I protested. In truth, I hadn’t seen the guy at the skate park all that often, but that was probably because I didn’t skate as much as I once had. Ethan still went regularly—he enjoyed helping newbies learn their technique—and he’d confirmed that the guy still showed up pretty regularly.

“He’s not a babysitter and I’m certain it’s not him who’s been perving you guys at the skate park. Vicente’s just about the furthest thing from being a creep that I can imagine. He’s pretty friendly, actually, and he’s never given me any indication that he’s interested in guys your age at all. Hell, from the way he decorates his home, I could almost think he was into women! But even if it is the same guy somehow, which I’m sure it won’t be, it’s not like you two have to be all buddy-buddy or anything. He’s just going to look in on you a couple of times, make sure you’re okay and that you don’t need anything, then he’ll be gone again. You probably won’t even see him for more than ten or fifteen minutes the entire time I’m away.

“Besides, it’s not while you’re on your own that’s the problem. It’s more when your brother gets back that I’m concerned about. I know you two! If you don’t throw Ethan through a window, you’ll probably convince him to help you burn the place down while I’m gone!”, Dad chuckled.

I rolled my eyes at him. We weren’t that bad! Well, okay, at least Ethan wasn’t, I admitted to myself. I wouldn’t actually burn the house down, of course, but I couldn’t deny that I’d been caught skipping school, smoking pot, and once I’d had to call my dad to pick me up at an unsupervised party because I was close to blackout drunk and couldn’t make it home on my own, even on foot. I wasn’t about to tell him this, but I was giving some thought to repeating the experience while he was away, though probably on a much smaller scale than that party had been and, obviously, with no need to be driven anywhere afterwards. It was annoying that he’d been right about involving Ethan, though not exactly for the reasons he’d said. Truth was, my little brother could use some loosening up, and a party with lots of booze, which he couldn’t even legally buy yet, seemed like the perfect thing for him.

“I’m hoping that with the threat of adult supervision, you guys’ll keep things under control…at least a little”, Dad added hopefully, giving me an exasperated smile that was only half joking. He probably had some inkling of my intentions, I realized. When Ethan and I had been younger, Dad used to brag about how much of a bad boy he’d been before he decided to become a cop. It was only once we got into our teens that he stopped talking about it, realizing that I, at least, might well start taking lessons from his stories. He’d been a bit too late.

“Okay, well, I should get going. Hurry up and give me a hug. Your brother’s probably wondering what’s taking so long.” Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t fond of hugging my Dad anymore…that was something kids did. Still, it was the polite thing to do, I supposed.

After I’d given him the hug he’d asked for, Dad picked up the last of his stuff and headed out to the car. I locked the door behind him with a certain sense of satisfaction. I was free! Three whole weeks, and probably at least the first half of it home alone. I waited a good twenty minutes to be sure Dad wasn’t going to come back for some forgotten thing. Then, unable to contain myself any longer, I sprang into action.

First things first: flipping on Dad’s computer, I opened my pants, my dick already firming up in anticipation. Dad had quite the porn collection that he thought I didn’t know about, or at least couldn’t get at, but I knew his password.

He had a good chunk of old VHS movies that had been converted to digital—he was fond of eighties porn, it seemed—but that wasn’t my thing. I clicked on some of the more modern stuff, my left hand massaging my dick and occasionally tickling my balls while my right hand clicked repeatedly on the mouse as I searched for something that interested me. Noticeably, he’d gotten some new stuff since the last time I’d looked. Oddly, for what I knew of his tastes, a lot of the new stuff seemed to be massage themed, but not all of it.

Finally finding something more interesting than some guy getting a backrub, I started beating my meat in earnest. I was skipping through pretty quickly, just to make sure this wasn’t another massage video, when I caught a lesbian scene with two really hot girls maybe a few years older than me. It seemed like they were experimenting, but then the blonde one’s boyfriend caught them in the act and, naturally, ended up joining them. The way he just waltzed in and took his pants off, clearly expecting service, it seemed like he’d actually known they’d be there and was expecting a three-way. If that was part of the story somehow, I hadn’t caught it, but more than likely, it was just bad acting. Porn wasn’t known for being realistic, after all. I tried to take it slow, but the girls were absolutely amazing, and I loved how devoted the two of them were to the guy, eagerly tonguing and deep-throating his shaft like it was their sole purpose in life.

I was only a couple of minutes in when I lost control and blew my load. Cumming that quickly satisfied my immediate urges, but I kind of felt cheated, too. I wished I’d held off for a bit longer. Oh well, I’d come back and do it again in a few hours, maybe, if I didn’t get caught up doing anything else in the meantime. That soon after the first time, I ought to be able to hold off for at least a little longer.

The rest of the day was pretty much a frenzy of video games, chatting about video games, eating pizza, jerking off whenever and wherever I wanted, playing music as loud as I could stand, drinking enough coffee to give a less healthy person a heart attack, not to mention a couple of beers. I could’ve wished we had harder alcohol, but Dad knew better than to keep that stuff in the house with me around. While it was legal for me to buy my own alcohol now, and had been for a little over a year, I still felt awkward when it was anything more than beer or wine. I figured I’d save buying a lot of it until I actually had a party planned, and then get everything at once.

Naturally, after all the coffee I’d had, I stayed up long into the night, not even remotely sleepy. I loved that I could stay up that late and there was nobody around to care. It was a little after four in the morning when I finally decided I should go to bed, but even as I started to doze off, I realized I needed to get up and take a leak, so it was closer to five before I really got to sleep.

It goes without saying that I was not at all happy when Dad’s physiotherapist showed up a little after nine the next morning, ringing the doorbell every minute or so until I answered. “Yeah?”, I answered harshly after I’d opened the door, rubbing the sand out of my eyes. Fuck! It was the creepy dude from the park. I’d hoped Dad was right and that it wouldn’t be him, despite my suspicions, but in my gut, I’d known it would be.

“Did I wake you?”, he asked me innocently, though there was a hint of exaggeration to his tone that made me suspect that he’d known he would. “I’m sorry! But your dad did say I should check in on you and make sure you hadn’t torn the place apart. I didn’t want to shirk my duties”, he said blandly—a little too blandly—with a growing smirk.

Smirking wasn’t something this guy should really be doing if he was trying to make someone feel comfortable—he already seemed weird as fuck, and his smirk legit made him look like a mental patient. It was that same smirk that had creeped out a lot of the guys at the skate park. It was almost like something out of a horror movie. One of the guys had confronted him about how he looked at us once, and he’d tried to explain that he just liked seeing what some guys could do with skateboards, especially the more experienced ones, but that didn’t hold up under any kind of scrutiny. Some of the guys he looked at had very little experience and he ignored girls and the younger guys altogether, even those with some serious skills.

Weirder still, it was rumoured that the same guy who had confronted him had later been seen hanging out with Creepy Dude, as we’d come to call him, supposedly being all friendly with him. I never actually heard that from anyone who’d seen it first-hand, though, so I wasn’t sure how much faith I put in the story. Even if the story was true, Creepy Dude hadn’t been quite so obnoxious about his staring after he’d been called out for it. These days, he usually stayed far enough away that none of us could be bothered to do anything about it.

I had a feeling that that had more to do with the fact that he had other hunting grounds with better views. A couple of times, I’d seen him hanging around the high school track and football field, and once, I’d bumped into him at the pool watching some of the guys on the swim team.

Apparently, I was now a “better view” myself. As I stood there in the doorway, trying to come to grips with even being awake at this hour, the asshole actually gave me a quick yet blatant appraisal, his eyes examining me from top to bottom, like he was inspecting a piece of meat. When he was done, he looked back up at me as though he thought I wouldn’t have noticed what he’d been doing, clearly expecting to be let in. I gave the creepy fudge-packer a withering look but backed away from the door despite my reservations. Much like Dad’s advice to me about Mom, I figured the fastest way to get rid of this guy was to cooperate, but without taking any shit from him, either. The sooner we got this over with, the sooner he’d be out of my hair and I could go back to bed.

Seeming to understand that I was at my limit, Creepy Dude came in and gave the house a quick once-over, even heading upstairs briefly, though he made it short enough that I could believe his seemingly innocent explanation that he was just making sure nobody else was in the house. I wandered around with him like a zombie, offended by how intrusive he was being, but more focussed on the fact that I wanted him the fuck out!

Bizarrely, he smiled at one point as his eyes swept past the upstairs bathroom door. What the fuck was so interesting about our bathroom? As we got back to the living room, I saw him look towards the empty pizza box on the living room floor, but he apparently didn’t feel a need to comment on it. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the only thing he wasn’t commenting on. He’d already chatted up a storm in just the two minutes or so that he’d been here.

Sitting down on the chair in our living room, he continued his chattering, seemingly oblivious to how tired I was and just how little interest I had in hearing stories about his clientele and what they found relaxing or enjoyable, which was mostly what he was blathering about. He just went on and on, and unless I wanted to be outright rude, I had little choice but to listen. Some days, I wished I hadn’t been brought up to be as polite as I was.

Taking a seat across from him, I sat back and tried to feign interest as he rambled on and on…and on…and on…and…. Man, I was so tired…and the guy just kept going! He was talking about his house now, after which he moved on to his plans to build a deck in his back yard. There was nothing quite like relaxing on your deck in the warm sun after a hard day, he insisted, though he wasn’t quite as succinct as that. Somehow, talking about his deck seemed to occupy the better part of ten minutes, by the end of which I was already starting to nod off, despite my best efforts.

It was fine if I fell asleep, he told me, he totally understood—although once again, it seemed to take him several minutes to actually say that. I was feeling so tired right now that it was hard to focus on what he was saying, but that was okay. I could just relax and let my conscious mind nod off, even as a corner of it stayed just awake enough to listen to him and be aware of him. I needed to make sure he wasn’t doing anything weird, of course, but I’d be able to tell that just by listening. No need to open my eyes. In fact, they were so very heavy right now that I couldn’t possibly open them. My entire body and mind could really do with a nice, relaxing nap about now. The only part of it that needed to stay awake was that tiny portion of it that was listening to him. It was so deeply relaxing to just listen to his voice.

I jerked awake after a while but fell asleep again almost immediately. Mr. Vasquez was still going on about something, but I really couldn’t have cared less what it was by that point. All I wanted was to go back to sleep! I was sometimes more aware of Mr. Vasquez and sometimes less, but other than that little part of me that was keeping track of his voice, I stayed asleep for quite some time, I thought. Having been that far gone, when I finally did wake up, I naturally had no strong memories of anything he’d said apart from a dim awareness that he’d been talking pretty much the whole time. Even the little I could remember faded quickly, like a dream. He’d been talking about listening to him or something, I thought—hardly surprising considering how much he talked. There was something about sleep, too, but I couldn’t remember exactly what. Probably just something about me having fallen asleep while he was talking. Whatever it was, it was gone now.

“I suppose I should get going”, he said as I sat there blinking away the sand in my eyes. “You need to get some real sleep before we go much further. I’ll pop by again later and maybe you’ll be more awake by then.”

Oh, great! Mr. Vasquez, my creepy-assed not-babysitter, was going to pop by again later. Just what I’d always wanted…not! And what the hell had he meant by “real sleep”? Whatever. At this point, I couldn’t have cared less about anything he said or did; all I wanted was my bed.

I walked Mr. Vasquez out the door and headed back upstairs once he was gone. With my interrupted sleep, and then staying half-awake for most of the time he’d been here, I felt like I’d pulled an all-nighter cramming for a test—I was totally mentally drained. Hard to believe the guy had actually been here for over an hour. So much for Dad saying I’d only have to put up with him for a few minutes. Within moments of hitting my bed, I was out.

It was the middle of the afternoon when I finally woke up again—this time, entirely of my own accord. I quickly downed some breakfast, along with a cup of coffee, but having had so much of the stuff yesterday, the idea of having more than just the one made me feel a bit nauseous. Once I was done, I hit the shower, feeling grimier than usual just because of how off-schedule I was.

Shortly after four, Mr. Vasquez showed up again. I couldn’t imagine he really needed to look around the house this time, seeing as he’d just been here this morning, but after a slight hesitation, I backed away from the door and let him in. I’d been intending to tell him to keep it short, but he came in and sat down in the living room, sitting in the same chair as he had the first time. It was obvious he wanted to talk, so I sat down opposite him, somewhat surprised when he reached over and put his finger in the middle of my forehead. “Sleep for me”, he said.

Before I could even understand what he was doing, much less object to it, I felt myself dozing off. It was a light, fitful sleep at first, though listening to Mr. Vasquez’s voice brought me deeper…much deeper. I went so deeply asleep, in fact, that Mr. Vasquez’s constant chatter didn’t even bother me this time. I just relaxed and listened to his voice with that tiny corner of my mind that had listened to him this morning.

“Okay, well, I can see everything’s fine here”, Mr. Vasquez announced, jarring me awake just as I was beginning to nod off. “I’ll get going and let you get back to whatever you were doing. The last thing I want is to intrude on your time alone”, he chuckled, looking down towards my crotch.

Fuckin’ fag! I had half a mind to chew him out for being so brazenly perverted, but I kept it to myself for now…barely. If I acted out and he reported it to Dad, then I’d look like the one who was out of line; if he was a pervert while I was as polite as I could be under the circumstances, I was sure Dad would take my side. If I could actually convince Dad that Mr. Vasquez was as much of a perv as I’d said, who knew, maybe he’d put the word out to other officers to watch for Mr. Vasquez at the skate park, pool, and other hangouts for guys my age.

As soon as Mr. Vasquez was gone, I did my best to put him out of my mind. It was surprisingly hard. My brain just didn’t want to get rid of the sound of his voice that easily. And every time I heard his voice, it brought an image of his face along with it, looking thirstier and creepier than ever.

I figured the best way to get rid of these unwanted images was to go and raid Dad’s porn collection again, this time picking one of my favourites rather than one of the new videos. As I started stroking my dick, Mr. Vasquez’s voice and image flashed into my head stronger than ever. For some reason, I imagined him telling me to jerk off, to do it not because I was horny—which I was—but because he wanted me to. Fuck that! Shaking my head, I did my best to concentrate on the computer screen. It was hard to push the imaginary version of him out of my head, but eventually, biology won out. Hot, naked girls trumped Mr. Vasquez with ease! Naturally, the weirdness of what I’d imagined him saying was in the back of my mind the whole time, but for the most part, I just jerked off, less and less concerned about the odd flight of fancy I’d had as I got closer to blowing my load. By the time I actually did, any idea that he’d asked me to was long forgotten.

Mr. Vasquez didn’t show up quite as early on Sunday as he had the day before, but it was still pretty early. I was ready for him this time, though, having gone to bed at a more reasonable hour. I’d been awake for nearly half an hour and was just starting to make breakfast when the doorbell rang. My dick was still spongey from having leisurely relieved my morning wood in more ways than one just before I’d come down, this time without the benefit of Dad’s porn collection.

Anticipating that Mr. Vasquez might show up—expecting it, even—I’d grabbed Dad’s bathrobe on my way past his room. It was quite thick for summer, even considering that it was cold and rainy today, but I’d figured it would hide everything if Mr. Vasquez showed up before the last of my excitement had faded. Checking quickly on my way to the door, I was happy to see that I could hardly tell where my crotch was at all, much less that I was still ever so slightly aroused. I answered the door with confidence and stepped aside to let Mr. Vasquez in.

“Good morning”, he said brightly, though he was clearly disappointed at not being able to see anything.

“Good morning, Mr. Vasquez”, I replied shortly. Even if I’d been expecting him, I didn’t want to encourage him to stay.

“How did you sleep?”, he asked, glancing down towards my all-but-invisible midsection once again.

“Wouldn’t you like to know”, I muttered. Just as he started to ask me to repeat myself, I spoke over top of him. “Well enough, you know.” It was weak, but at least it sounded vaguely like what I’d actually said.

“Excellent! Since you’re so good at it, why don’t you go back to sleep for me”, he suggested, one of his fingers touching the middle of my forehead before I thought to react.

I apologized to him curtly once I was awake again, feeling embarrassed that I’d nodded off while he’d been talking. I couldn’t imagine why I’d fallen asleep again so soon after I’d gotten up, but he was polite about it.

“No worries, Sean! I know I’m not the most exciting person in the world. You’re hardly the first person to fall asleep while listening to my voice. He tried not to at first, but your father nods off on me during our therapy sessions all the time now”, he reassured me.

“You have to take it slow the first couple of times”, he continued, as though that made any kind of sense, “so I should probably get going before I’m tempted to do anything further”, he continued cryptically. I had no idea what specifically he might be tempted to do, but several possibilities came to mind, none of them good! There was no way I was going to let his faggy ass do any of the things I imagined he was thinking of, no matter how “slow” he went!

I gave him a perfunctory nod goodbye as he stepped out, goose bumps forming on my bare chest as a cool breeze wafted in. Not wanting to stand in the door in just my boxer shorts, I shut it quickly and went back to making breakfast. My bread had gone slightly stale while I’d been napping, but I just tossed it in the toaster and it was fine. For some reason, Dad’s robe was draped over the back of my chair, so I tossed it on the stairs to take back up later. I remembered having put it on earlier, but I’d apparently taken it off without thinking. Hopefully, I’d done that after Mr. Vasquez had left! I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have taken it off before then, not with that perv around! But…I must have, I realized. I remembered standing at the door in my boxer shorts. What the fuck? How had I let myself do that?

Once again, Mr. Vasquez’s face and voice flashed through my mind, and once again, I did my best to ignore them both. I mostly succeeded this time, but it nagged at me all day. It was like I kept thinking about him on a subconscious level, just getting occasional flashes every so often as the subconscious broke through to the conscious momentarily. It was especially there-but-not-there as I started watching Dad’s porn again before bed. I was getting good at just letting the odd feeling slough off of me now, though, so even as strong as it got, I didn’t let it intrude on what I was doing.

Thankfully, I didn’t see Mr. Vasquez again until Monday evening, though even that was sooner than I would’ve liked. Was he going to come over every day? I sure as hell hoped not, although I was almost getting used to it at this point. I answered him at least slightly more congenially than the previous times, wearing only shorts and a muscle shirt. I figured that was covered up enough.

“Hey, how’s it hanging?”, he asked, a slimy smile splitting his face from ear to ear.

“It’s ‘hanging’ just fine, not that it’s any of your business. Could you just…not…please?”, I scowled.

“Sean, look at me”, Mr. Vasquez said seriously. There was an urgency to the way he said it that made me meet his eyes to see what was up. “Deep down, you like me and know that you can trust me. Sure, I’m gay and I like younger guys, but apart from that, I’m a nice person. You’ve sort of been coming to that realization yourself since the last time I was here, haven’t you? There’s no need to hide it anymore.”

“I’m sorry”, I smiled at him once he broke eye contact. How had he known what I’d been thinking? Hell, I hadn’t even known, at least not until he mentioned it. Now that he had, though, I realized that that’s what I’d been thinking about all day yesterday…sort of letting it percolate subconsciously the whole time. “You’re right, of course. You’re just…a lot more obvious about your interest than what I’m used to”, I blushed in embarrassment. “It’s pretty fucking disturbing, to be honest, especially with the age difference, but still, you seem like a cool dude apart from that. C’mon in”, I smiled, stepping out of his way.

“Thanks!”, he leered, clearly checking me out again. “Listen, I wanted to mention that it was great seeing you in just your boxer shorts yesterday. You were really hot! I don’t suppose I can convince you to take your shirt off again, can I?”, he requested.

“Fuck you, bastard!”, I scowled. And here, I’d just been starting to think he wasn’t all that bad. “You had to go and make this all weird, didn’t you?”, I chastised as I pulled my muscle shirt over my head and tossed it on the floor. “I’m not just here for your grat— What the hell?”, I cut off as I realized I was now standing there shirtless, just as he’d requested. I barely even remembered taking my shirt off. He was clearly getting an eyeful and loving it. “Fuck you! I didn’t do this for your sake. I did it because…because…”, I floundered.

“Because you didn’t want to be rude”, he finished for me. That didn’t sound quite right, but it was kind of close to how I was feeling. It wasn’t that I wanted to do what he’d asked, but just the way he’d said it, it was hard to say no to him. He’d been so polite about it.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it!”, I replied, figuring his reasoning was close enough. It wasn’t like I owed him a detailed explanation of why I’d done what he wanted. Was it my imagination or was the front of his pants bigger than when I’d opened the door? “You creepy mother—”, I started, pretty sure now of what I was looking at.

“Sleep for me, Sean”, Mr. Vasquez suggested. Pausing at the words, I stared helplessly as his finger came towards the middle of my forehead, any concerns about him having an erection completely vanishing from my mind.

“Good, good, you’re coming along nicely, Sean!”, Mr. Vasquez complimented me as my eyes fluttered open. Why did I keep falling asleep whenever he came over?

“I’m not even gonna ask what you mean by that”, I scowled. “Look, you’re an okay guy otherwise, but seriously, you have to get your hormones under control! You freak out all the guys at the skate park, and I know I’ve seen you ogling young guys elsewhere too. I might like you well enough to ignore it, but pretty much nobody else I know does”, I informed him.

“Oh, I’m not too worried about that”, he sneered. “I get the guys I want, pretty much. The rest are just fun to intimidate.” How god damned creepy could this guy get? “But hey, it’s time for me to get going. Clearly, you’ve got things under control here and you’re not up to anything you shouldn’t be.”

As Mr. Vasquez stood up to leave, it was hard not to notice that his pants were much more rounded in front than they had been. There was no doubt that he had a nearly full erection which, while not jutting straight out or anything, he clearly wasn’t taking great pains to hide. That was fucking disgusting! I gave him a sour look, but I said nothing as I escorted him to the door. Especially after seeing that, I was happy the depraved son of a bitch was leaving, but kind of disappointed, too. Until he’d stood up, I’d almost been hoping he’d stick around for a bit…almost. It was weird how I thought of him as disgusting, yet a part of me kept insisting that he was a nice guy and that I liked him.

When we got to the door, Mr. Vasquez just stood there doing nothing. He almost looked like he was hypnotized, just staring at the wall like he was brain-dead. It took me a few seconds to realize that he was deliberately thinking of nothing, waiting for his semi to go away. I quietly waited with him. Once he’d calmed down a bit, he left without another word.

I was free once more, but unlike other days, I never even gave any thought to masturbating. The image of Mr. Vasquez having a hard-on—or something close to it, anyway—was a little too fresh in my mind, and I knew damned well that the minute I touched my own dick, I was gonna wind up with images of his distressingly rounded pants going through my head. So, instead of masturbating, I decided to clean the house up a little. I’d really let it get messy the last couple of days, and I didn’t want to get Mr. Vasquez in trouble by having the place be a mess whenever Dad got back.

I’d mostly gotten the image out of my head by the time I’d finished dinner so, with the itch to clean satisfied, I decided to relieve the other itch I’d been feeling since Mr. Vasquez left. I could almost not think about him now, despite having my own erection pushing at my shorts, much like he’d had when he left.

Turning on Dad’s computer, I decided to call Mr. Vasquez on Zoom before I got down to business, to apologize for my rude behaviour earlier. Not surprisingly, Dad already had him in his contact list.

“Hey Sport, what’s up?”, Mr. Vasquez greeted me once we were connected. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you again this evening. I see you left your shirt off for me!”, he laughed.

“It’s not for you, fucknut!”, I laughed along with him, though inwardly, I also scowled. “I just wanted to say sorry if I was rude earlier. I mean, you were pretty creepy, but I could’ve been a bit more mature about it.”

“Oh, you’re quite mature enough”, Mr. Vasquez said suggestively. “Speaking of which, look into my eyes for a minute, will you, Sean?” Naturally, I did as he asked. “Great. I’m sure you must be looking forward to jerking off now that you’re in front of your father’s computer, so why don’t you go do that. There’s no need to disconnect the call, I’ll wait. In fact, until you’re finished masturbating, this call will be the furthest thing from your mind.” Mr. Vasquez put his hand in front of his camera for a moment, causing me to snap out of my staring.

Switching over to Dad’s porn collection, I picked one out and started massaging my groin as I got into it. It was another one of Dad’s new ones, this one about a middle-aged warlock who used magic to get the girls he wanted—girls who were barely legal, from what I could see, though that had the advantage of putting them closer to my age than most of the rest of what Dad had. The magic was cheesy, but a couple of the girls were good looking. When I found one that was really hot, I stood up and dropped my pants, stroking my foreskin back and forth.

Sitting back down, I pushed the chair away from the desk a little so that I could spread my legs apart. I watched eagerly as the warlock reached into the girl’s pants and started fingering her, telling her to remove her clothes so he could fuck her. I climaxed before he did, slouching into the chair and watching as she went down on him to clean off her juices once he was done with her.

The whole magical control thing didn’t appeal to me at all, but the scene itself had been pretty hot the way he’d just taken what he wanted. I was just about to stop the video when the scene “magically” reverted to both of them having their clothes back on, though they were both still breathing hard and he clearly still had an erection under his pants. She acted as though nothing had happened and thanked him for coming over, despite the fact that from her point of view, he’d just showed up, developed an erection, and then left.

“Oh, hey, Mr. Vasquez. That was fantastic! Thanks for waiting while I took care of things”, I enthused, resuming the long-forgotten chat now that I was finished. Distantly, it occurred to me that I’d just been masturbating in front of Mr. Vasquez, but with him not actually being here in person, I figured it wasn’t a big deal, so I didn’t let it bother me.

“No problem, Sean”, he said, his hand moving fairly rapidly in his lap, which was thankfully below the level of the camera. There wasn’t much doubt what he was doing right now…same thing I’d been doing just a few minutes ago. “Look into my eyes again, please?”

I did so, suddenly only barely even aware of his fapping. “There was absolutely nothing important about this call at all. You’re going to sit back in your chair with your legs spread, just like you were a few minutes ago, then whenever I hang up, you can pull up your shorts and go on about your evening. We had a great call, and it’s left you wanting to spend even more time with me.”

Feeling somewhat dazed, I sat back in the chair and stared into Mr. Vasquez’s eyes. He hadn’t broken eye contact yet, so neither did I. I was distantly aware of him beating off until he came, but I just kept staring into his eyes the whole time until the call disconnected. I felt my cold cum soaking into my boxer shorts once I’d pulled both them and my gym shorts back up. I was normally pretty clean about that sort of thing, but it was a bit late now, so I just left everything where it was and headed back to my own room to play some video games. It kind of tickled as the cum dribbled down from my stomach to get soaked up by my shorts, but I was far too absorbed in the game to care.

I played video games for most of the rest of the evening, though with my fucked-up sleeping schedule the past couple of days, I went for more mindless, relaxing games rather than anything too action-oriented—hell, I was almost sedate about my game-playing. While I was playing, I thought about who I might want to invite to my little house party, focussing primarily on friends I knew could keep it a secret. I kept having to mentally scratch off Mr. Vasquez. Why in the hell would I ever invite him? He was nice enough when he wasn’t being all faggy, but I couldn’t imagine that anyone else I was considering inviting would actually want him there. Although, now that I thought about it, he could get us large amounts of alcohol without raising any eyebrows. And I felt confident that he wouldn’t say anything if I got Ethan drunk. That was something to think about.

I wasn’t really in the mood for more porn when I went to bed, but I was definitely in the mood to jerk off. I almost never beat off in bed, but this was my week of depravity and debauchery, so what the fuck. Settling down and pushing the sheets below my crotch, I started fantasizing about the girl from the video earlier. Poor, weak-minded idiot, letting herself be dominated by the guy so easily. If she’d been smarter, or at least more strong-willed, she could’ve resisted. I didn’t quite think that she deserved what she’d gotten, but she definitely should have fought harder. I certainly would have if I’d been her!

I was going soft just thinking about it. Focussing more on just fucking her and getting cleaned off when I was done, I quickly firmed up again and came in no time. There were tissues by the side of the bed, but I was too lazy to get up and get them. Rolling over, I felt the cum squishing into the sheets and spreading around my body a little. I was almost starting to like it, but the thought of sleeping in my own jizz was a bit disturbing. Apparently, that wasn’t my decision to make tonight, though, because despite how early it was, I drifted off to sleep almost immediately, my subconscious mind once again telling me something about Mr. Vasquez even as I dropped off. It was probably just because of the video I’d been watching earlier, but I found myself dreaming about Mr. Vasquez controlling me.

“I’m not such a bad guy”, Mr. Vasquez was saying. “I don’t care if you’re homophobic, Sean. Just relax and try to stop worrying so much about whether or not I’m gay. Instead, I want you to focus on how good you feel now, and subconsciously, whenever you look at me, you’re going to remember that I make you feel that way. Even if you don’t like that I’m gay, just concentrate on how much you enjoy the way I make you feel. That’s only going to grow stronger over time.”

Mr. Vasquez’s words became jumbled a bit after that, sometimes overlapping with lines I’d heard in the movie. I started awake at one point, sitting up with a sudden burst of anxiety. Once I’d realized that it was all just subconscious shit coming from my porn viewing, as well as my anxiety about having a gay guy in our house, I felt kind of silly and went back to sleep.

“Having an erection’s something that…”, Mr. Vasquez was saying in my new dream, but his sentence faded into nothingness before he even finished it. His face was soon replaced by the face of the wizard from Dad’s porn movie. That only lasted for a moment, and then I was staring awkwardly at the mound in the wizard’s pants, but then in my head, it was Mr. Vasquez’s pants. The two of them were all jumbled together.

Now, the warlock from the porn movie was fucking the girl again, but somehow, he still had his pants on and he was fucking her with the hefty protrusion underneath. Every few thrusts, he would reach down the front and adjust himself. I didn’t mind seeing the guy having an erection, since it was just porn, and the girl was clearly having the time of her life despite the fact that the guy’s cock was in his pants the whole time.

I never fully woke up from that dream, though I eventually realized that it was a dream. I tried to guide the dream towards me fucking the girl from the movie, but all I got out of that was that I was now the one with a tent in my pants, and my dick felt very trapped and uncomfortable. I wasn’t actually getting anything out of it at all.

After that had gone on for far too long, I woke up in a cold sweat, my sheets tangled around me. Clearly, I’d been thrashing a lot. I now understood why my cock had felt so trapped in my dream—it was trapped in real life too, only it was the sheets that had it in an uncomfortable position, not a pair of pants.

Once I’d gotten my sheets straightened out and relieved myself in the bathroom, I fell back asleep for the third time that night. Thankfully, like they say, the third time was the charm, and I slept through until morning, untroubled by any further bizarreness.

I was in the middle of my afternoon coffee when Mr. Vasquez showed up yet again, really putting the lie to Dad’s “ten or fifteen minutes” if he hadn’t already. I didn’t mind, though—I was actually starting to get used to the guy I’d once thought of as Creepy Dude, maybe even starting to like him…as long as I didn’t think about the fact that he was gay. “Hey, Mr. Vasquez! C’mon in. I have to say, I’m surprised you’re coming over so much. I thought you were just supposed to check up on us a couple of times.”

“Well, you know how it is”, he smiled. “I just like the company of hot young guys like you.” His smile turned into a chuckle.

“Man, do you have to be so fucking gay all the time?”, I asked him heatedly, shaking my head in disgust, though I tried to make it look like it was just a joke to me. I didn’t want to offend him too much, despite how I felt.

“Hmmm…I suppose I don’t have to, but it is fun!”, he leered, looking me up and down as I stood there in only my boxer shorts and a t-shirt. “That said, why don’t you take a seat for me, and we’ll get started.”

That phrase, “take a seat for me”, it sounded familiar, but not quite right somehow. There was something I was supposed to do for him whenever he asked, I was sure of it. And what was it we were getting started on, exactly? I wasn’t entirely sure, but it seemed pretty important, so I took a seat in the nearest chair—one of the kitchen chairs—turning it out from the table to face Mr. Vasquez. I looked toward him as he approached, noticing that he seemed to be working on another spontaneous erection. Standing only arm’s length away from me as he was, I was more than a little bit repulsed by it, but I tried to be understanding. “Sleep for me”, he said, his thumb reaching out to touch my forehead. That was what I was supposed to do for him, I thought, even as my mind became numb to anything but the sound of his voice.

“Oh man, what is it with me and falling asleep whenever you come over?”, I half-laughed when I finally woke up again. “And what is it with you and spontaneous erections?”, I asked right on the heels of my first question, seeing as he was taking absolutely no pains to hide his arousal this time around.

“Does it bother you? Would you rather I leave?”, he asked.

“Does it bother me that the creepy guy from the skate park, the one who leers at all the guys my age, is standing in front of me with an erection? Hell, yes! Would I ask you to leave over something like that? No—I’m not a total douchebag. Do you really like me so much that you get a fucking hard-on every time you see me?”, I asked him pointedly.

“No, not every time I see you. It’s actually something else that’s causing it, but don’t worry about it for now. Maybe we’ll come back to that later”, he smiled, groping his massive manhood confidently as he stood there, brazenly staring me up and down.

I sighed, but I put up with it. I supposed he couldn’t help himself, and what I’d said was the simple truth: I wasn’t about to kick him out just for being aroused. At one point as I sat there waiting patiently for Mr. Vasquez’s erection to go away, he caught my eye, and I found myself trapped. I just couldn’t seem to look away! The little prick just smiled like he knew exactly the trouble I was having and then, without breaking eye contact, he reached into his pants to readjust himself… looking exactly like the warlock had when he’d done that in my dream!

Mr. Vasquez clearly understood the discomfort I felt, but he continued grinning at me impudently the whole time he had his hand in his pants. As he reminded me, his eyes boring into mine, every man got spontaneous erections at some point in their lives. It was a natural thing, and nothing to get upset about. I reluctantly conceded his point, though I was still disgusted by the fact that he even had an erection, regardless of whether it was spontaneous or not. Still, it happened to me from time to time, sometimes for no reason I could explain, so I tried to be polite about the whole thing.

We moved to the living room after that so that Mr. Vasquez could enjoy how he was feeling, as he put it. Now that I was in a more comfortable seat, I sat back and relaxed, waiting for him to deal with his little problem. Unlike when he’d left the house yesterday afternoon, though, this time, his erection didn’t seem to be going away. If anything, he seemed even more aroused now than he’d been when I’d first woken up.

“I’m surprised you’re not complaining, Sean”, Mr. Vasquez smirked as he continued to stare at me, one hand giving his massive bulge a squeeze.

“Not much I can do about it!”, I told him. “It’ll go away on its own eventually, I’m sure.”

“Eventually”, Mr. Vasquez agreed, “but probably not for a while. Would you feel more comfortable if I left?”

“Of course I’d feel more comfortable if you left! Like I said before, though, that doesn’t mean I actually want you to leave”, I admitted. “It’s totally fucked up. It’s like, you’re the biggest creep on the planet, but I like having you here. I dunno…the house is too quiet or something when you’re not around. But even if every guy gets them from time to time, I still wish you didn’t have a fucking erection”, I told him fervently. “What in the hell’s got you so aroused, anyway? You said you’d explain.”

“I actually said ‘maybe’, but since you ask, what has me aroused is this”, he said, standing up and moving towards me, stopping with his crotch only a foot or so in front of my face. “Sleep for me”, he said, reaching out to touch my forehead.

“Whu?”, I said, opening my eyes from a deep, deep doze. “Why the hell do I keep falling asleep?”, I asked once more, mostly to myself this time.

“It’s because I keep hypnotizing you”, Mr. Vasquez replied. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Hypnotizing me? Bull-fucking-shit! I’ve never been hypnotized in my life and I sure as hell wouldn’t let some fag like you do it to me! Hypnotizing me, my ass!”, I scoffed. “I’m much too strong-willed for anybody to mess with my mind like that.”

“Hey, Sean, lean towards me for a sec?”, Mr. Vasquez requested. He raised a hand towards my forehead, pausing for several seconds on the verge of doing something, I thought. He grinned as I waited patiently for him to finish whatever he was about to do, the seconds lengthening as his thumb hovered in front of my forehead while his other hand stroked his dick. It quickly got to a point where I’d been sitting there waiting far too long for him to do whatever he was planning on doing, and we both knew it. Still, I couldn’t seem to resist. After what must’ve been close to a full minute of me just sitting there waiting for him, Mr. Vasquez put his thumb in the middle of my forehead. “Sleep for me.”

“Do you still believe you’ve never been hypnotized”, he asked when I woke up again. His eyes were pointed straight at my groin, clearly admiring the spontaneous erection that I’d developed when I’d nodded off again.

“Of course I haven’t!”, I assured him.

“So, in your mind, it’s perfectly normal that you fall asleep frequently when I’m around, that you’ll wait indefinitely when it seems like I want to touch your forehead, and that you just woke up with a stiffy?”, he prompted, massaging his own, quite sizable “stiffy” as he spoke.

“Well, duh! People nod off all the time, and sometimes, guys get hard while they’re sleeping. I admit, the forehead thing was messed up, but you had asked me to lean towards you, so I did, at least until I knew you were done whatever you were doing. If you want to think any of that means you’re hypnotizing me, I can’t prove that you’re not…except that I know you’re not. And stop fucking admiring me, you sick fuck!”, I bitched at him.

“Sure, sure, no problem”, he said, his eyes momentarily meeting mine, then going right back down to where they’d been before. “But…it is quite a nice cock, from what I can tell through your boxers.”

Ugh! What a fucking sicko. Did he have to keep going on about it like that? I gave him a dirty look. I really wanted to get up and leave, but there were two problems with that that I could see. The first was that if I stood up, my dick would protrude out even more, and probably give Mr. Vasquez even more of a thrill. The second was that, on a deeper level than my need to hide my embarrassment, I really didn’t want to move at all. I wanted to stay here and spend more time with Mr. Vasquez. It seemed like the more irritated I got with him, the more I liked him.

Over the next hour or so, the two of us kept chatting, sometimes in a friendly manner, but often with more hostility. I was feeling really cranky for some reason, and I largely took it out on him.

At first, Mr. Vasquez tried to present even more evidence that he’d hypnotized me, but I finally told him to fuck off with that shit…that he was delusional if he thought he had any kind of influence over me. After that, we drifted on to other topics, like who I was attracted to and who he was attracted to. Besides the expected celebrities, my brother and I featured heavily in his fantasies, which he seemed to feel the need to tell me about at great length. I recognized a couple of other guys as well, but in a city the size of Saskatoon, he obviously knew a lot of guys I didn’t.

I stayed hard the entire time we spoke, and Mr. Vasquez was almost as bad. He groped himself repeatedly, much to my disgust, even getting up and wandering around at times, seemingly only to make it even more obvious just how hard—and how large—his cock actually was. I didn’t like it, but I stayed seated, not doing anything about it. I complained about what he was doing several times, but he didn’t seem to care much, so after the first few minutes, I only brought it up once in a while. I figured there wasn’t much sense in belabouring the point.

“Just spread your legs a bit for me?”, he requested after I woke up from another spontaneous nap. I was really starting to get used to the fact that I often just nodded off for no apparent reason when he was around…probably from how bored I got listening to him talk about hot guys.

“No, I’m not fucking spreading my legs so you can get a better view!”, I informed him, even as I spread my legs. “I’ll fucking spread my legs whenever I want to, just cuz it’s more comfortable, and that has absolutely nothing to do with you”, I told him in no uncertain terms. Honestly, I felt I shouldn’t be rude to a guest, so I sort of was doing it for him, but I didn’t want him to know that.

“Good, good. Looks like my suggestions are working quite nicely”, he grinned, still pretending like he’d hypnotized me. “How would you feel if I spent the rest of the evening here?”, he asked, switching topics out of the blue.

“Yeah, sure, that’s fine with me”, I agreed. “Apart from the fact that you’re a creepy mofo who feels no shame about getting erections around me, you’re actually kind of nice to have around, Master Vicente.” Something sounded different about how I said “mister”, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. “Having you here makes me feel good. No, not like that, jerk!”, I told him, seeing the lecherous look in his eyes. “It’s just like…whenever you’re around, it makes me feel…relaxed…and comfortable, despite how creepy you are.”

“No worries, Sean. I understand how you feel completely. Listen, would you mind taking your shirt off for me as well?”, he asked.

“Fuck you!”, I said, my hands instinctively reaching down to take off my shirt for him despite my verbal objections. “You’re such a fucking fag sometimes! There, you happy? Take a good fucking look while you can, jackass!”, I told him, watching his eyes staring at my body thirstily.

It didn’t just feel good to be around him, it felt good to let my feelings—he probably thought of it as homophobia—out at him. It was relieving to be able to be able to express what I felt completely uncensored for a change. It sort of helped to counter-balance how nice I was being to him the rest of the time. Thankfully, the erection I’d had when I woke up was beginning to fade, but Master Vicente more than made up for it on his side of things. He seemed very aroused by the idea that he’d hypnotized me for real and could make me do things, at least judging from how he’d reacted when I’d spread my legs and taken my shirt off. Well, let the little fucker think what he wanted.

We took a break for dinner then, Master Vicente watching as I wandered around in my boxer shorts preparing soup and sandwiches for both of us. I got a hard-on again as I worked, but I made no effort to hide it, despite Master Vicente’s comments about it. Maybe the best approach was to ignore him and pretend he hadn’t said anything unusual. If he stopped getting the attention from me, it probably wouldn’t be as much of a turn-on for him. Besides, I didn’t want to be rude. If he got completely out of hand, I could put him in his place again.

Setting the soup down in front of him, I sighed in exasperation when he asked me to just stand still and let him admire me for a minute. I hated how fucking obvious he was. Couldn’t he just keep it low-key, like most people did?

“Foreskin?”, he asked as he examined the outline of my cock in my boxer shorts.

“Yeah”, I answered unthinkingly. “Not that it’s any business of yours!”, I added after a moment. The fudge-packer just smirked at me, clearly amused at how I tried to cover my moment of bad judgement. What was even weirder was that now that I’d answered, I was convinced that he’d already known before he even asked. He’d seen my cock before—I was as sure of that as I was that I would never in my life have let him see me naked! The cognitive dissonance those two facts made me visibly twitchy as I tried to reconcile them.

“Sean, look at me for a sec?”, Master Vicente requested as I sat back down to have my own lunch. The moment I met his eyes, I completely forgot about…whatever it was that had been bothering me. “You really like being admired, even if it is by another guy”, he insisted.

“Of course I like being admired”, I agreed. “Doesn’t everyone?” I had to admit, though, that I’d actually needed the reminder that I enjoyed being admired by other guys. It felt like something I’d realized a long time ago but had forgotten until it’d become relevant again.

“Great! Since you’re so sure of that, would you be so kind as to unbutton your boxer shorts for me before you start eating, Sean? If it’s not too much trouble”, he drawled. “Oh, and be sure to keep your legs spread and don’t obstruct my view, okay?”

Without even thinking about it, I reached down to undo my button. I didn’t actually do it for him, of course, it was just that it made sense to me to do it right now. Despite his assertions to the contrary, I knew damned well that he hadn’t actually hypnotized me. So, regardless of what he thought was going on, if I wanted to undo my button and spread my legs, that’s what I was going to do! Besides, I liked people looking at me—even gay guys—and in a kind of humiliating yet gratifying way, I wanted to give Master Vicente a better look. I hoped my dick didn’t pop out, but at the same time, I almost wanted it to.

“That’s excellent, Sean! Looks like I can even see a bit of your shaft now”, he grinned. So far, despite its throbbing, it seemed like that’s all he was going to see.

“Fuck off, Master Vicente!”, I bitched. “You’re such a fucking fag!” Insulting him relieved some of the anxiety around letting a gay man stare at my partly visible erection. I was surprised at how much more it mattered to me that he was seeing it now that he was actually here in person instead of just on camera. The sooner he got tired of staring at my crotch, the better! I even started lightly fingering the tiny bit of shaft he could see once I was done eating, in the hopes that if I satisfied some of his libido, he’d stop looking that much sooner. I was at least partially successful, too! Master Vicente didn’t stop staring any earlier than I expected, but at least he seemed to enjoy what I was doing, so I’d accomplished that much.

I was so absorbed in massaging my dick for him that I hardly even noticed when he stood up and touched my forehead. I slept for him, like I always did…except that like touching my cock, it wasn’t really for him. Nodding off had been my idea. I was in complete control of my actions.

“Okay, well, I guess it’s about time for me to go”, he suggested as I opened my eyes.

Finally, I thought, though at the same time, I had to suppress an urge to encourage him to stick around for a while. “It’s been fun, but I do have things I need to do back home. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow, so I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop by, but maybe we can do a Zoom chat or something”, he told me wistfully.

“I’ll be awaiting your appearance on Dad’s computer with bated breath”, I told him snarkily, surprised to find that I almost meant it despite my tone. “Next time you do come over, leave that thing in your pants, please, Master”, I said, looking pointedly at where his head was now sticking out the top of his waistband. That had to be the fattest cock I’d ever seen, and I was still only barely seeing the top inch or two of it. I really didn’t want to see the rest, and I hoped I never did. That thing looked fucking scary!

“I make no promises”, he laughed.

“Yeah, I’ll bet you don’t!”, I sighed in resignation.

Once he was gone, I sat down for my own dinner. How had my sandwich gone stale so quickly? I’d only made it a few minutes ago. Whatever. It might not be fresh, but it was edible, and soup could always be reheated.

My jerk off session later that night ended up making me a little paranoid. After flipping the camera on in case Master Vicente was around, I started clicking through Dad’s file, eager to go back and watch the two girls with the boyfriend. I watched it from the beginning this time, though, to see if there was anything interesting that I’d missed. It turned out that the boyfriend had hypnotized his girlfriend and her best friend to have lesbian sex for his benefit and to be total sluts to him whenever he wanted them to. That story was a bit too close to the other one I’d watched with the warlock, so I started clicking around on some of the other movies Dad had acquired recently. Sure enough, every last one of them that wasn’t a massage video involved some kind of mind control at some point. It was pretty easy to spot them, too, since most of the videos resumed at the point Dad had stopped them, which was invariably some time during a mind control scene.

Unsurprisingly, my dick got semi-aroused sometimes when I was going through the videos. Whatever the story, some of the action was pretty hot. It was weird, but sometimes even when there was no action, I got hard for whatever reason—harder than I did when there was actual sex on-screen! It was while I was pondering that that Master Vicente’s fascination with hypnosis suddenly hit me…and the fact that he’d said something about Dad falling asleep during most of their sessions. Ho…ly…fuck! Could it be? Was I just being paranoid? My dick went totally limp as I considered the implications of that.

As much as it scared me, though, a part of me thought that if Dad was weak-minded enough to let himself get hypnotized, he kind of deserved whatever Master Vicente might be doing. Hell, for all I knew, maybe it was even his own decision to let Master Vicente try it in the first place. Somehow, that seemed unlikely, but still…if Dad was getting hypnotized by some gay creep, that was up to him to deal with.

With that settled, I went back to the two girls and the hypnotist boyfriend. It took a while—I actually had to watch the whole scene through twice, then go back and watch the part where the boyfriend hypnotized them—before my dick finally responded. After watching him hypnotize them a second time, I was starting to get back into the groove, so I skipped ahead to the scene of him being worshipped by the two of them. That got me somewhat hard, so I started stroking myself, imagining that I was the one who had hypnotized them and that it was me that they were servicing. Focussing on the act of hypnosis made things go much better, with me cumming well before the two of them had finished satisfying the guy. I was so turned on, I let the scene play to the end, rubbing my cum around my stomach and chest as I did.

I almost puked when I unthinkingly started licking my finger off as I got up to go to bed. I had to force myself to stop retching before I actually did throw up. What the actual fuck? I’d never done that before, not even at my most absent-minded! Was it possible that Master Vicente actually had done something to me too? No, I decided, almost as soon as the thought crossed my mind. I was far too strong-minded for anything like that.

Despite my disdain for the very idea, the thought of Master Vicente hypnotizing me plagued me all through the next day. It was probably one of the worst days of my entire life, in fact. The whole day, I kept wondering whether I would even know if Master Vicente had hypnotized me. I’d heard that a hypnotist could make you entirely forget a hypnosis session, at least sometimes. I was sure I hadn’t forgotten anything or lost any time, though, apart from the times I fell asleep…while he was here…only while he was here. No, my mind is strong! The only thing that kept me sane was the fact that I kept getting hard all the time, which helped a lot to distract me from my worries.

It was almost a full forty-eight hours between when I’d last seen Master Vicente and when he showed up at my door Thursday night. I hadn’t even seen him on video like he’d said I might, though I kept the camera on any time I was in range, just in case. I could do nothing but glare at him when I opened the door. It was a glare designed to hide my fear, though. “What the fuck did you do to me, you prick?”, I demanded. It was a gamble, of course. If I was right, and I couldn’t be hypnotized, then I was going to look like a total idiot; if not, though, I might push him into admitting what he’d done. If he did, I’d kick his ass out, probably literally, and call Dad to get Master Vicente arrested. Meanwhile, though, I backed up to let Master Vicente in—even if he’d been hypnotizing me this whole time, it was important to be at least somewhat polite.

“Bad day?”, Master Vicente smirked. “It seems I’ve given you the wrong impression. Why don’t you sleep for me and we’ll…”

He said something after that, probably finishing his sentence, but I nodded off the moment his finger touched my forehead. I couldn’t remember exactly how we’d gotten there, but I was now sitting in the living room with Master Vicente once again. He had his pants open and was stroking his cock. I’d been right, it really was a monster dick, no matter how you looked at it, but even more so for thickness than length. He outclassed me easily.

“I’m sorry”, I told him. “I didn’t mean to accuse you of something I know damned well you could never do to me. With your interest in hypnosis and shit, I got it into my head that you’d hypnotized Dad and maybe that you’d hypnotized me, too”, I admitted. “I guess I just had kind of a paranoid moment or something.”

“Well, you’re not entirely wrong. I actually have hypnotized your father any number of times”, Master Vicente admitted. I jolted in surprise at his honesty, but I wasn’t as anxious about the whole idea as I had been when I’d first begun to suspect. “Before we get into that, though, would you mind stripping for me, please?”, Master Vicente requested.

“You and your fucking nudity!”, I barked as I started taking my shirt off. “I mean, seriously, you can’t get enough of me, can you?” I could feel myself firming up, even as I chose to do what he’d requested. I hated the idea that he might be controlling me—rejected it utterly, in fact—but I did enjoy showing myself off to him, so much so that even if he thought I was doing it for his benefit, it still turned me on.

“There! Look while you can, fucker!”, I growled, my semi continuing to rise of its own volition.

“Why don’t you come over here. That’s it, stand nice and close so I can get a good look at it.” I took a few steps towards him. “You don’t mind, do you?”, he asked, looking down at his own cock to indicate what he meant.

“You think I want to watch some fag masturbating in front of me? That’s so fucking messed up, Master!” I’d actually meant to say “dude”, but somehow, I’d slipped and said that accented version of “mister” I always used with Master Vicente now. “If it weren’t so impolite, I’d leave you the fuck alone and go upstairs until you left.”

“That’s fair. But having gotten that off your chest, you don’t mind standing there, quietly stroking your dick until I cum, do you?”, Master Vicente leered.

“Fuck you!”, I snapped, relief flooding over me now that I’d told him exactly what I thought of his masturbating. My hand wrapped around my dick and I started stroking it, making sure Dad’s therapist could see what I was doing. I kept it up as Master Vicente spoke.

“As you suspected, I have hypnotized your father—repeatedly, as I mentioned. Some of it was to aid his recovery, naturally, but I can’t deny that I enjoy hypnotizing guys to control them. It’s a real turn-on. During our first few sessions, I got your father used to the idea of me having erections, which I always get when I hypnotize a hot guy, and things just kind of went from there. Things really ramped up after he showed me pictures of you and your brother, though. At that point, I started hypnotizing him to like the idea of me hypnotizing the two of you.”

Master Vicente was clearly absorbed in the memory, and I could see precum forming at the tip of his cock as he recounted what he’d done. “That’s not the sort of thing you just openly suggest, though. Instead, I implanted the idea subconsciously. Even now, he’s not consciously aware of it, though that’s why he left you alone for three weeks and suggested that I check up on you. He also encouraged your brother to be away for a little while, so I’d have the opportunity to spend time with you before adding Ethan to the mix. The specifics were up to him, I just suggested that he make it as easy as possible for me to hypnotize the two of you individually before hypnotizing you together.”

Master Vicente’s hand was rubbing his cock quite rapidly now, and precum was spreading around his head. He didn’t seem to have much, though. If I’d been going as rapidly as him, I would’ve had a flood of precum all over me. Hell, even now, when I was only jerking my cock slowly, I had more precum than he did.

“Just relax and stand still for me”, Master Vicente ordered. Apparently, he’d also noticed his own precum, so he scooped it up with the edge of his thumb and wiped it on my stomach. “Don’t worry, I won’t do your precum. You can do that yourself”, he suggested. Gladly, I wiped myself off and rubbed it on my stomach before going back to rubbing my dick.

“Pervert!”, I accused, momentarily forgetting that I was supposed to be stroking myself quietly. I blushed in embarrassment.

“Of course, that’s not all I’ve been hypnotizing him to do. He was a bit resistant at first, but once I got him masturbating me with a toy between his hand and my dick, it went more smoothly after that. He quite enjoys spending time with me now, especially when it comes to satisfying my…ermm…needs, shall we say. He doesn’t think there’s anything unusual about any of it, naturally.”

Wow, Master Vicente really was a pervert! I mean, it was one thing for him to masturbate in front of me and ask me to be naked to provide a little inspiration, but even if I was sure he hadn’t hypnotized me like he wished he could’ve, I knew he wasn’t lying about Dad. The way he said it just had a ring of truth to it.

“You think I’m disgusting, don’t you?”, he asked. “It’s okay, you can talk now. But don’t stop playing with your cock…you look quite nice when you’re hard!”, he complimented me.

“Fucking fags, man!”, I muttered, relieving a bit of my anxiety about gay topics in general before I answered his specific question. “You want to know what I think of you? After that little admission? You’re lucky I don’t call Dad up right now and tell him everything you just said!” Despite my threat, Master Vicente’s hand sped up. He was getting aroused by me threatening him, of all things.

“You’re fucking lucky your plan failed with me, cuz if I thought for even a moment that you’d successfully hypnotized me, I’d beat you to fucking death, you twisted, depraved monster!” I really had to let loose with the insults to make myself feel better about what he’d told me. It helped a lot. Master Vicente leered at me. He clearly thought this was funny somehow.

“As for Dad, if you’ve done even half of what you say you have, you should be tossed in jail and they should throw away the god damned key! Still, if he’s actually doing it, I suppose you’re not entirely to blame. I never would’ve thought he’d submit to a gay man’s control so easily, but if he really is, I can’t blame you for taking advantage of it. Anyone weak-minded enough for you to control is fair game, as far as I’m concerned. I guess, on some level, I feel like they deserve it for being so easy to manipulate”, I admitted. Hell, it didn’t even feel like an admission. Thinking it through, it felt right. On some level, I’d always thought that. Even as a child, I’d always felt a certain level of disdain for characters in stories who let themselves be controlled or bullied without fighting back and eventually breaking the control. Ideally, they should never have let themselves be controlled to begin with. That conviction was stronger now than it ever had been.

“You can’t have it both ways, you know. You say I should be thrown in jail, but if I understood you correctly, you’re also saying that it’s okay that I’ve hypnotized your father. How does that work?”, my Master asked.

“You should be thrown in jail, absolutely. I guess I just feel like it’s not my place to do it, and I think it’s pathetic that Dad’s so weak-minded that you can get away with it. I don’t know. I mean, I still have half a mind to call the station right now, since I doubt calling Dad would do much good, from what you’ve said.” My hand even hesitated on my cock for a second at the thought, wondering if I should actually do it right this moment, but I decided it could wait until later…if I did it at all. The important thing at the moment was letting Master Vicente admire my dick until he came so that I didn’t have to deal with watching him masturbate anymore.

“You’re probably right, I should be. But look into my eyes for a second, Sean”, Master Vicente suggested politely. My eyes were instinctively, irresistibly drawn towards his.

“You won’t call the police on me. Apart from the fact that I’m a controlling, gay hypno-freak, you actually like having me around far too much to ever risk that I might be sent away for any reason. You could never even dream of reporting something I do to the police. You’ve always known deep down that I’m a great guy, and that you could never do anything to hinder my perversions in any way. The more you think about it, the more you actually like the idea of me hypnotizing people”, Master Vicente informed me, breaking eye contact as he came to a finish.

I was about to respond, but just as I went to speak, I noticed that Dad’s therapist—and hypnotist, apparently—was beating his meat furiously, on the verge of cumming. I politely let him finish, watching quietly as he enjoyed his orgasm. Through it all, I made a point of showing him my cock to its best advantage, moving it around as I stroked, so he could see it from all sides. He was a pervert, to be sure, but he was a great guy underneath it all.

“You’re right, of course”, I confirmed as he looked up at me with that warm smile of someone who’s just cum. “I would never actually tell anyone what you’re doing. It’s disgusting as fuck, but I would never actually want to see you in jail. I almost think of you as a friend, but it’s different…more than a friendship, somehow, though it’s never gonna be what you want it to be”, I scowled. I might do things that turned him on once in a while, but even then, I only ever did the things he asked me to because it was the polite thing to do or I happened to be in the mood to do it.

“Good, I’m glad to hear you feel that way. I’ll bet you’ve felt that way about me for a while and just didn’t realize it until now. Is that about right?”, he asked, smearing his own cum around his body.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. I mean, I certainly like you well enough apart from your sexual proclivities. Maybe I’ll even get used to those with time”, I offered.

“Oh, don’t worry about that too much”, he winked, giving me his best disturbed pervert leer. “You can continue to express how you really feel anytime you want. It’s good for you. Speaking of which, have some more cum.”

“That’s gross!”, I told him, feeling vindicated by the fact that he’d encouraged me to be honest. That didn’t stop him from smearing some of his cum on me.

“Sleep for me”, he suggested, pulling me into la-la land.

“Well, I should get going. Give me a hug!”, Master Vicente ordered.

I was less than thrilled at the idea of hugging a gay man while he was still naked and semi-erect, but it would’ve been rude to refuse, so I complied. Master Vicente repositioned both of our cocks so that they were side by side, pointing upwards between our bodies. Even as we hugged, I could feel his dick firming up, but I wasn’t about to pull away. He wanted a hug, and I was damned if I was going to give him any less than my best…no matter that he was gay, no matter that he had a rapidly stiffening erection from feeling my dick against him, no matter that his cum was currently spreading all over my body. This was a lot more adult than when I’d hugged Dad goodbye, but for someone like Master Vicente, who I had so much respect for—at least sometimes—I didn’t mind.

“Look into my eyes, Sean”, Master Vicente suggested as he pulled away from me.

“There’s no reason to clean cum off your body. You will leave all of it where it is until your next shower. And I know you like smearing your own cum on yourself and on your clothing, so I want you to add at least one more load to what I put on you before you go to bed”, Master Vicente reminded me. I was quickly becoming addicted to having my own cum on me, so I’d already been planning on depositing a load or two on myself anyway…Master Vicente saying that I should just made it that much more imperative for me. “Remember to be nice and clean for me when I arrive tomorrow, though.”

After Master left, I headed straight for Dad’s computer and started really taking a good look at his new videos. Knowing what I knew now, I didn’t find the various types of mind control bothersome at all. In fact, I kind of enjoyed the idea that Dad was only watching them because of his newfound, and entirely subconscious, interest in hypnosis.

I watched several of the videos myself this time, taking my time and really getting into the stories. Most of the mind control scenes didn’t make up the whole movie they were in, only some small part of it, but now that I was getting more comfortable with Master Vicente’s interest in hypnosis, I found the videos more interesting than I ever could’ve imagined before. I came twice that night, once as I watched the guy hypnotizing the his girlfriend and he friend—not even when he actually had sex with them—and then again after a few more hours of watching people being mind controlled in various ways. That time, I wasn’t even touching myself; I just came spontaneously watching some cougar hypnotizing a young jock to have sex with her.

With my newfound understanding of what Master Vicente was really about, we started to get along better. I still thought he was as creepy as ever, of course, and I didn’t hesitate to tell him as much on a regular basis, but I also understood where he was coming from now. Because of that, I let him get away with things sometimes, like when he asked me to jerk him off with a toy, jut like he’d hypnotized Dad to. That sort of shit was truly disturbing sometimes, and I made sure he knew it, but once I’d gotten my feelings out, I invariably went ahead and did whatever he’d asked me to—of my own volition, of course. I might not be hypnotized to do everything he told me to, like Dad was, but there was no need to be rude.

I never did end up throwing the party I’d wanted to. When I’d told Master Vicente about it, he’d just looked me straight in the eye and told me to be a good boy or some shit like that. He was right, of course, and I’d known it even before I asked. “I don’t want you getting in trouble with Dad for not keeping me in line”, I’d told him, “though I suppose you could just wave your magic wand, or whatever it is you do, and he wouldn’t mind a bit!” Just thinking Dad being hypnotized made me grin. As much as I watched Dad’s new mind-control videos, I was really getting comfortable with the idea of Master Vicente controlling him now. It was his own damned fault for being so weak-minded, really.

It was pretty clear that Master Vicente was hoping that Ethan would be equally weak-willed. The little fucker clearly had the hots for my brother. “Sean”, he told me Monday evening as I got on my knees and started stroking his cock, “whenever your brother comes home, I want you to do everything you can to help me hypnotize him.”

“Fuck you, you fucking creep!”, I lashed out at him before tentatively tonguing his head. Apparently, me deciding I wanted to find out what sucking cock was like, after initially telling him off for even mentioning it, had emboldened him. “There is no fucking way I’m going to help you hypnotize my little brother. You and I both know all you want to do is get your dick inside of him. You’d love to have him as your newest little hypno-toy, wouldn’t you?”, I accused. I shut up when Master Vicente pushed his cock to the back of my throat, of course, since I had little other choice, but he’d gotten the message.

Still, even if I didn’t do it for Master Vicente, I might encourage Ethan to try hypnosis or even just let my Master trick him into being hypnotized somehow, if the opportunity presented itself. It wasn’t like Master Vicente would do anything too serious, and it’d be kind of fun to see Ethan doing everything Master told him to…almost like having my own personal porn video happening right in front of me.