Pool Party
Me and my wife only went to the party because there was a free bar. But we had to admit it was pretty swanky. The weather was warm, a rarity in England, and some people were in the pool having fun. Others were having a barbecue, or just drinking and talking. It was relaxed and fun.
The hosts had arranged various entertainment. There was a magician, a juggler and this hypnotist. They weren’t giving shows, they were just walking round talking to people and doing things in small groups. The hypnotist was a black guy, tall and stocky, and seemed to be a hit. I saw him out the corner of my eye chatting to a group of 6 or 7 people next to us and after a few minutes one of the females, a chubby middle aged blonde woman, was on her knees barking like a dog. He then whispered in her ear and she went around from group to group thinking she was a dog, looking to be patted. Her skirt was riding up exposing her underwear. She didn’t seem to notice but others did and giggled—it was a bit tacky.
Soon he had another guy going round telling people he’d lost his thumb and did they know where it was. People were laughing but I wasn’t impressed with his end of the pier schtick. And he definitely didn’t endear himself to me when I went to the bar and came back to see he’d joined our group and was flirting with my wife. He was wasting his time there. Not only were we happily married but she had zero interest in black men. She’d never even kissed one. I wouldn’t say we were racist but neither of us tended to socialise with black people so I was pissed off to see him trying to hit on my wife.
A lot of guys tried it with her. She’s hot. We met in the gym. I’m 35 and used to compete in bodybuilding shows. I retired a few years ago but work as a personal trainer and prepare her for bikini contests. This hypnotist must have been 40, overweight and the wrong colour so he was totally wasting his time. I could see she wasn’t impressed. He didn’t seem at all perturbed when I got back and stood between him and my wife and gave him a stare. Without hesitating he started talking to the half a dozen of us who were chatting about how wonderful hypnosis felt and how amazing it was. He was back in professional mode. He droned on, yeah, yeah, yeah… I was annoyed at what he’d done and didn’t want to hear his crap so I said. “Come on, man, we all know it’s fake and you’re a fraud. Sure, some people are gullible or want to be the centre of attention but you can’t make anyone do anything. You’re a conman. Admit it.”
He looked amused rather than angry that I’d trashed his so-called profession and said, “So if I spoke to you and gave you some suggestions you wouldn’t amend your behaviour in any way?” I was slightly baffled by the question but sure, there’s no way he could make me do anything, I thought and told him so. “In that case you won’t mind if we try a few things, would you? After all, you’ve said I can’t possibly influence you so you can hardly say no, can you?” he said. “Er, yes, I mean no” I replied. His language was confusing me a little but sure as hell I knew he couldn’t make me do anything. So I thought what the hell, let’s go along with it and make fun of him and his stupid hypnosis shit.
“I’m Stephen,” he said, offering his hand. Naturally I accepted and listened as he shook it in a strange way I’d never experienced before. It seemed to go on for ages. “You are?” “Jason,” I replied. “Thank you, Jason. You’ve probably noticed what a warm day it is, and how relaxed you feel, and feeling your arm going up and down only heightens this, so I’d like you just to sit in this chair and listen to me, do you understand?” “Sure,” I replied. He finally let go and I sat down. “You see, you’ve already followed a command,” he said, turning to the crowd smiling. “I’ve already influenced your behaviour.” There were a few laughs as I tried to process what he was saying. Yeah, he was right, I suppose, but that didn’t count, did it? Suddenly he was holding his other hand above my eyes. “Focus on my index finger,” he said. “Keep staring at it and try not to let yourself feel tired.”
Hang on. Was I supposed to try not to feel tired like he said—wouldn’t that be following his instructions again? So if I felt tired I was proving I was in control and my eyes were feeling a little heavy. As he said, it was warm, so perhaps it would be better just to let them close, just for a few seconds. That’d show him I wasn’t doing what he said. I’d open them in a minute and expose him as a fraud. “Oh dear, Jason seems to be finding our company very dull,” said Stephen, to more laughs. Smart arse, I thought. I’d get him for that but right now I was enjoying relaxing and proving him wrong. He moved behind me and was now talking in a much lower and slower tone quietly in my ear. He sounded way more dominant and serious too. Maybe I should listen to him, I thought. He put his hand on my face and he started turning it in circles as he spoke to me. I could feel everything slowing down and fading. I was vaguely aware of Michelle’s voice saying, “Jason, what are you doing? Get up, don’t listen to him. This is ridiculous,” but I wasn’t sure where she was or what she was referring to. I was just focused on his voice and hearing the words ‘drifting and sinking’ and ‘good boy’. Nothing else seemed important. I just had to listen to his voice and be a good boy. I liked being a good boy. Good boys do as they’re told and I am a good boy. It all made sense. Then it all went dark.
I suddenly became aware that it was very important for me to get back to work. I’d been hired at the party as a sissy maid to go round serving drinks to people. Stupidly I’d nodded off and now I had to work extra hard to save my job. Stephen, who was my boss, handed me my sissy maid’s uniform, which was a French maid’s costume, and told me to put it on and get to work. I did as he said and started asking people what drinks they wanted. I don’t know why people were laughing—Stephen had told me it was totally normal to wear a sissy maid’s uniform in this place—so I ignored them and went to the bar to get the drinks. When I came back, I gave the drinks with a little curtsy each time and moved on to the next group of people. After a few minutes of this Michelle came up to me. I didn’t even realise she was there. What was she doing at my place of work? “What the hell are you doing?” she said. “Stop this now. Please tell me this isn’t real.” I didn’t know what she was on about. “I’ll be with you soon, honey, but I’ve got to serve these drinks otherwise I might lose my job.” I was a bit pissed off with her, didn’t she realise I had an important job to do? Jesus.
Anyway, I think I did a pretty good job serving everyone and remembering to curtsy each time I gave them their drinks. Michelle came up to me again at one point and said ‘For god’s sake Jason can’t you see you’re hypnotised? Stop it now, this is embarrassing.” Had she gone mad? By now I was getting seriously pissed off with her for getting in the way—couldn’t she see I was busy? Hypnotised—what on earth was she on about? I was just doing my job. Eventually I remember Stephen coming up to me and telling me to sit down. I did as he said and he told me I’d been a really good boy, which for some reason gave me a real thrill and made me even more focused. He then whispered some more things in my ear and suddenly things went dark again.
The next thing I knew I was back at the party with Michelle and a few people were smirking at me. “Hey, sissy boy, get us a vodka and coke,” one yelled. What was he on about? Why was he looking at me when he said it? Michelle was fuming. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in all my life,” she said. “What the fuck were you doing? Haven’t you got any strength of will? Letting this old black man totally own you like that. I thought you were a strong guy and he just hypnotised you in about 5 minutes! Everyone was laughing at you in that ridiculous outfit.” I didn’t know what she was talking about. I just felt confused and spaced out. “We are going as soon as we’ve finished these drinks,” she said. I wandered off to the toilet. After I’d finished I splashed some water on my face. What had just happened? Why was Michelle so mad at me? Hypnotised? We were just at a damn pool party. I walked out the toilet and saw a black face I vaguely recognised. I felt nervous for some reason. “Hello, Jason,” he said. “You were a very good boy.” As he said those words, I felt a wave of excitement sweep over me and felt myself drift off a bit. Suddenly I felt his hand on my face again, circling it round while he whispered a few words in my ear. The next thing I knew he was leading me into an empty bedroom next to the toilet.
His tone became serious and dominant again. I knew I had to pay attention. “We haven’t got long,” he said. “I’m going to ask you some questions. I want you to do exactly what I tell you and be totally honest, do you understand?” he said. “Yes,” I replied. “Good boy” he said and I suddenly felt another shiver of excitement and the urge to please him. “Write down you and your wife’s names, phone numbers and address on this piece of paper,” he said. I did exactly as he said. “What is your wife like in bed?” he asked. “Very submissive,” I said. “She’s bossy and confident out of the bedroom but likes the man to be in control in it.” “How big is your cock?” he asked. It never occurred to me to wonder why he asked such a personal question. I just had to be a good boy and answer the questions quickly and honestly. “Not very big, Maybe four or five inches,” I said. “That’s pathetic,” he said. “You cannot satisfy your wife. Do you realise that?” I felt deflated but a bit of a fool for not realising something so obvious.
“She needs more than that. She craves more. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“She craves is a real man. A well endowed man. A well endowed black man. You are a loving husband so you want her to be satisfied, don’t you?”
“Er, yes, I suppose…”
“Good boy. You want her to have well endowed black lovers. This is your priority now—to find her them. And top of your list will be me. You will not be able to stop thinking of her with me, and it will turn you on more and more. In fact, you will no longer be able to get hard unless you think of her with a well endowed black man. The bigger the better. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“On your knees.”
I knelt. Suddenly he had his trousers down and stood there with his cock out. It was huge. Easily twice my size and not even hard.
“This is what she needs. You will think about it more and more. You want to serve me and you want her to have it because unless she does she will never be happy and you want her to be happy, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Good boy.”
He then took a step towards me and slapped me hard around the face with his cock. I couldn’t believe how heavy it felt. Although nothing like this had never happened to me before, somehow it never occurred to me to do anything besides kneel there and take it. He slapped me a few more times with it.
“Now, white boy, get up. You will go back to your wife and your conscious mind will forget all about this conversation. But you won’t be able to get out of your mind how much you want her to be fucked by black men, especially me, and you will only be able to get hard during sex thinking about this. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good boy. Now leave the room and return to your wife. I will be in touch with further instructions soon and you will obey unquestioningly.”