The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

10. October 31, 1999 (and Thereabouts)

Chad started calling a couple or three times a week. Before, we had talked on the phone maybe two or three times in the whole two-plus years we’d known each other. But after what went on when Breck and I went to visit him, and since he was planning to come to Atlanta in November for our mutual friend William’s annual Thanksgiving blast, I guess things weren’t the same, right?

Anyway, he started calling a few times a week, always after 11 p.m., when my roommies had gone to bed and we wouldn’t be disturbed. Breck said Chad called him too, which I thought was cool, because it meant they were hitting it off. On nights when I was alone, Chad and I talked for hours—and if I sometimes didn’t quite remember what we talked about the next day, that was okay too, because that’s just the way conversations are. Or if I was with Breck that night, at my apartment or his when Chad called, Breck and I would cuddle up real close with the phone between us so we could both talk to and hear Chad at the same time. It was great.

I was kind of glad Chad was calling. See, I had this huge-ass project at work, my first big project since I started (right after graduation) back in May, and I was stressed. This project was going to culminate in a big presentation to a potential client on November 1—a client from Chile—so in addition to being my first big project, with “make or break Brock’s career” written all over it, it was for a potential client whose language I didn’t speak and who was described as “only semi-fluent” in English. Oh, yeah, I was a stress-dog. Anyway, talking to Chad sure helped me keep things in perspective. See, he used to work in a similar field, only from the other side, since he used to get presentations like the one I was going to b giving, and he had plenty of good advice that made me look like I really knew my shit to my boss and coworkers. Plus, talking to him just plain relaxed me. As Breck said, “I always sleep so well after talking to Chad.”

Breck and I went to a Halloween party on October 31. Yes, that was the night before my big November 1 presentation, but I needed to kick back and have some fun. Bill came up for a visit and went to the party with us. I prepped for my presentation all that afternoon, so I didn’t feel bad about going out that night. I’m not a slacker.

Halloween means costumes. Bill came in his Marines uniform, full kit, dressed to the hilt. Breck borrowed this medieval costume from his oldest brother and went as Prince Charming—it was cream and baby blue, and it highlighted his blond hair and green eyes nicely. Breck and Bill both looked good enough to eat.

Me, I went in one of my wrestling singlets—the revealing electric blue one that clings to and highlights every muscle. It showed plenty of skin too, which is always a plus for an exhibitionist like me. Which of us looked best? Well, I was given more phone numbers that night than either Breck or Bill, and that’s how we were measuring success. Ha ha! Naturally, Bill claimed he was straight and hadn’t really been trying to get men’s phone numbers at a gay party, which was his way of protecting his pride, and Breck wasn’t about to show that he was jealous either, but I couldn’t help rubbing it in, just a little.

Now, you’re probably thinking we came back to Breck’s apartment after the party and hypnotized Bill, or each other, and had a great old time, right? Well, it crossed my mind, but we didn’t. Sorry to disappoint you. See, it was after 1:30 when we got in, and all three of us were partied out. I was so horny I was buzzing—hey, you don’t get the kind of attention I got that evening without getting plenty horny—but I was also tired. Nothing happened when we got home. We pulled out Breck’s sleeper-sofa and left Bill to crash there (he was more than a little drunk and he had to drive home in the morning), and Breck and I went to crash in his bedroom.

There was a message on Breck’s answering machine, and he played it as we peeled off our outfits. (Naturally, mine took a lot less time to take off than his.) It was from Chad, wishing us a happy Halloween. Give him a call, he said, if we got in before 2:00.

Breck was putting his costume on a hanger. I picked up his cordless phone and started dialing Chad’s number.

“Isn’t it a little late to be calling?” Breck asked.

“Nah,” I said, trying not to stare at his cock and that fine, fine body. “He said he’d be up for another half-hour.”

We were feeling good, in spite of being way tired, so Breck and I cuddled up on the bed, the handset on his cordless phone between us—so both of us could talk to Chad at the same time. He answered after the third ring. “Happy Halloween!” we yelled at the tops of our lungs when he picked up. Man, we must have been punchy, because that really cracked us up, big-time. We talked for a while, laughing, telling him all about this huge-ass party we’d been to. The hosts were mutual friends of Breck and me—and they must have been “mutual friends” with half of Georgia too, because there must have been close to one hundred people there. Good thing they had a big house and a huge yard.

Chad was talking about how Halloween was one of his favorite holidays. (He and I both love really bad horror movies, and there’s always a shitload of them coming out at Halloween.) I was starting to get pretty sleepy. I figured I needed to be getting some sleep pretty soon, but Chad was in the middle of telling us something. I stretched and yawned. I figured I could listen with my eyes closed, so I let them.

I opened them a little while later. It was nearly pitch dark, still night. I distinctly remembered the overhead light still being on when I closed my eyes—Breck must have turned it off?

I felt wide awake. Something was prickling at me, like eyes watching me in the dark from across the room. I lay on Breck’s bed, next to him. I remembered taking off my singlet, and I remembered him taking off his Prince Charming costume—but there we were, wearing them again. Had I only dreamed we took them off? Or was I dreaming now?

Halloween—that word kept running through my head like an explanation. A night for tricks and treats.

Breck stirred. “Whazzit?” he mumbled. He looked up at me, blinking.

I whispered tensely, “There’s someone here in the room with us.”

My tone made him stiffen, and he looked around, searching? “Where? Who?”

Bill? No, we both knew it wasn’t him. Bill wouldn’t hide in the shadows and try to spook us like this—Halloween pranks aren’t his style.

Breck climbed off the bed. “Who’s there?” he stage-whispered. Guess he didn’t want to wake up Bill, in the living room on the sofa, if it was just our nerves. Breck was edging toward the door, toward the light switch.

I got out of bed too. This has to be a dream, I kept thinking, just a dream. It was too blasted dark to see anything, but I definitely felt someone in the room with us. I couldn’t see him—and I sensed it was a him—but there was definitely something there in that corner, a vague shape and a feeling like something waiting, just a few feet away from the door, directly on the other side of Breck, where the shadows were deepest.

Then, right there in the corner, less than four feet from Breck, twin points of silver light opened up. Eyes. Looking right at him. Holy shit!—I nearly jumped out of my skin!

Breck didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. It was so dark I could barely see him—good thing his Prince Charming costume was so light-colored. He had his back to me. He gave a little moan, just one, so soft in his throat, but he was just standing there, not moving, maybe just swaying a little, not seeming to react at all.

I said, “Breck? What is it?”

He didn’t move, but the eyes swiveled my way, and I felt them touch my gaze like ... like ... Shit, I don’t know how to describe it. Like fascination, I guess. Those glowing silver eyes hit mine, and it was like I’d never seen anything so fascinating in my entire life. All I wanted to do was just stand there and stare into them.

I couldn’t tell what was going on. I was looking at the silver—couldn’t look away—as the eyes swam in the dark in front of Breck, disappearing for a second since his head was between me and the eyes, then reappearing. I saw motion at Breck’s shoulder, his pale blue doublet being opened and slipped off his shoulders. His tunic being opened. His smooth-skinned shoulder and torso and arms being exposed. Breck was just standing there, letting himself be undressed.

His trousers jiggled, then glided down off his alabaster hips. The eyes lost altitude, falling down to waist-level.

Hands, pale hands emerged from sleeves black as the surrounding night to grip his hips. Breck just stood there. Was he being blown? He had his back to me, and I couldn’t see. I kept waiting for the eyes to reappear.

Breck gave another groan, louder, and suddenly his body went slack. He was snagged by the pale hands before he could fall, caught up in arms that lifted him, gently, easy as a doll, and carried him to the bed and laid him out. In the faintest light filtering through the thick curtains that drowned Breck’s window, I saw Breck’s face. Eyes closed, like he was just sleeping. And I saw the silhouette. A man. Tall, dressed all in black. A cape, lined in glossy red, like in a hundred bad horror movies. The profile seemed somehow familiar—I didn’t have to be afraid.

The eyes. A little above mine—taller—gliding toward me through the darkness. I couldn’t turn away, couldn’t move. Hovering directly in front of me. Staring right into me, fascinating me, distracting me. I was looking directly into a sensation like heaven. This expectant feeling was rushing through my skin, all over, tingling like electric current. His cool hands caressing my biceps. My skin sang out everywhere he touched me. Something inside me was stirring, a great fluid strength that I didn’t know I had. Slipping one strap of my singlet down off my left shoulder. His lips crisp against my neck on that side, down low. The shoulder strap being lifted from me right shoulder and pulled away, peeling the clingy fabric from my pectorals and back, down over my belly. Kissing my cheek, tenderly, then my neck and shoulder as he drew the singlet down past my hips. Those eyes, point-blank, blasting into mine, then dropping away as he knelt, looking at my cock now instead of my eyes, though the memory of those silver eyes still prickled in my head. My rod—so hard, so needy, aching for attention—pointed right at him, truer than a compass needle. His hand wrapped firmly around it. His mouth, muscular and chilly-moist as wet marble, kissed the tip, just the very tip, and then his tongue glided over my glans, down around my shaft.

He fell on my meat hungrily, sucking at it. His ravenous mouth had the shock of a theophany. All the sinews of my cock, all the muscles of my hips and abs and thighs, all the fibers of my swaying body—everything was drawn irreversibly into the scalding vampire-bite of his kiss. My dick in his mouth felt like one fat, stretched-out vein. The more he sucked, the more I relaxed—wave after wave of sensation washing over me, lulling me into a state that I can only describe as womblike, the kind of pure passivity a vampire’s victim must assume, at first hypnotized, then paralyzed by the act of literally nursing someone. I came—hard as a blow to the gut—and then I must have blacked out.

I awoke to the annoyance of Breck’s alarm clock, chirp-chirp-chirping that it was time for me to get up and get ready to go deliver my big presentation. I rolled and blinked. Breck too. We were naked, entwined on his bed. Over his shoulder, I could see his costume on the hanger, right where I remembered him putting it the night before. So had it happened, or was it really just some dream? Had Chad made me dream it?

We kissed good morning. Breck sat up and rubbed his face. “Whew!” he said,. “I had the weirdest damn dream! I don’t remember much of it—it was pretty fucking weird ... and you were in it.” He started to climb out of bed.

“Yeah?” I said, catching his hip and pulling him and his morning woodie back down on the bed with me. “Well, I’ll tell ya mine if you tell me yours.”

11. Mostly November 18, 1999

Anyway, my presentation later that day went very well, and I was like Hell Yeah! all day after that! When I spoke to Chad that night, I made sure to give him props for all the great advice he’d given me all through the project. He played it modest, saying I did all the work and all he did was give me the benefit of his experience, and he didn’t expect anything less than success from me. Oh, yeah, dude sure knew how to stroke my ego.

From there, things turned gold at work. I got a bonus, got assigned to some other hot projects. The way I handled my presentation made a lot of the higher-ups really sit up and notice me, so I was determined to shine.

Which meant way more stress, because now I couldn’t afford a fuck-up. Everything had to come off perfect. This wasn’t like wrestling—this was a whole different kind of game, and the stakes were even higher. Wrestling is about strength, strategy, testing the limits of the body—this was more about strength of will, vision, and testing the limits of mental endurance, which were all areas I hadn’t competed in as much before. Chad said that the secret to success wasn’t in wanting to win—everybody wants to win, but not everybody can. The secret, he said, was you also had to make everybody else want to let you win.

Chad—I don’t know how he did it, but he could always make all that stress disappear. For a while, at least. I would come home stressed almost beyond what I could endure, and Breck could help me start to unwind, but then on those nights when the phone rang just after 11:00, I could count on feeling great and sleeping like a baby. I guess you could say I came to depend on him nearly as much as I depended on Breck to be there for me.

So when he told me he was coming back here to Georgia for William’s party, I was all about looking forward to seeing him again. I was all over it! William’s party is always the Saturday before Thanksgiving. He does that so that all of his friends could get together—and they come in from all over the eastern seaboard—for Thanksgiving and still be able to spend the holiday itself with their own families and friends. It’s a huge dinner/mingle/party thing that starts about 2:00 in the afternoon and runs ... until. This was going to be my second time attending. See, I met William at my college, where he’s the head of one of the computing centers for one of the schools; he manages the gay/lesbian/bisexual list-servers there too.. Chad knows William from grad school—Chad got his Ph.D. from the same college I attended, a couple of years before I started, and William was in grad school then too, and they met at one of the gay student groups here. See, it’s almost impossible to be gay on that campus—even if you’re closeted, like I was to most people at that time—without knowing William. Ha ha!

First Eric wasn’t going to be able to make it and Chad was coming alone; then Eric managed to get free, so he was coming too. Eric would be flying in on Thursday at noon, and Chad would arrive from New Jersey on Friday. They were both going to be flying out on Monday morning early. Breck made arrangements to be off while they were here. I tried too, but I couldn’t get off Thursday, when Eric was arriving, but I did get Friday off.

That meant Breck had to go pick up Eric—“Mr. Soccer Stud,” we called him—at the airport. And spend the afternoon with him. I wasn’t jealous. Not a lot, anyway. (See, this was about a week after Breck and I had a fight about fidelity, but I’ll talk about that later. Right now, though, we were all forgive and forget.)

When I got to Breck’s place, I found a note that read, “Gone to Piedmont.” So I headed to Piedmont Park, and I found them in the middle of a big grassy field, playing around with a soccer ball. Breck plays soccer sometimes with his buddies and he’s pretty good, but you could tell just from the way Eric moved he was seriously better. It was like the ball was part of him and he was just letting Breck play with it for a little. I don’t play soccer at all, so I sat cross-legged off to the side and watched them run and feign and kick and pass headers at one another. I got cruised by several guys while I was sitting there, particularly from this cute shaved-head blader boy, but mostly I watched Eric and Breck play around. You could tell from the way they laughed and looked at each other, they liked each other a lot.

They looked good together too. Both of them were blond; Breck has hair the blond of sand, and Eric is a strawberry blond. They were both very, very cute. About the same age—Breck’s 25, and I think Eric’s 26. Great bodies too. Eric had his shirt off when I got there, and Breck lost his a little while later. Their muscles were honed by being athletic all their lives, like mine. I had the edge on Eric in upper body definition, probably strength too, but he probably had a slight edge on me as far as legs and running endurance. But just a slight one.

“Hey, there’s Brock!” Eric shouted, pointing my way. He passed the ball at me, and I jumped up, sent it back with a header. Okay, I meant to send it back at Eric, but instead it flew right for Breck. Okay, so it looked like a good pass, and intentional too—my ego was intact. Ha ha! Breck snatched the ball on the run, heading my way, and he dropped it just before colliding with me and kissing me hard and giving my crotch a squeeze. In spite of our argument the weekend before, how could I not love this boy?

We went back to Breck’s, where they showered (separately) and changed, and we headed out down Piedmont to Cowtipper’s, my fav restaurant, for dinner. Our waiter was really flirty—after all, we were easily the three best-looking guys there—but ... well, neither Breck nor I found him attractive, and Eric, being another of those guys who fuck with other guys but calls himself “straight,” wasn’t interested, so we only flirted back with him a little bit, just enough to get him flustered a time or two as he was reciting the specials or asking if we needed anything.

I was curious, and this was pretty much the first time I’d been around Eric when Chad wasn’t around, so I asked him, “So, if you’re straight, what’s up with Chad? You guys been dating—what?—like, over two years?” See, I was curious because Bill also says he’s straight. That’s different, though. Bill’s been my best friend since we were, like, 11. He was one of the first people I came out to. He was straight and I was cool with that, though I had this huge crush on him. He told me he had sex with men twice while he was in the Marines—one-time things, each time, when he was drunk and horny. This past summer, I finally kind of pushed our friendship into sexual waters, and we dated and did the whole boyfriend thing for two and a half months or so. The sex was good. Bill was always saying he was straight, though, and didn’t want people thinking he was queer. I guess, since he was still in the Marine Reserves, that maybe he could have gotten in trouble or something if they did. Eric was a soccer player—maybe he had to be “straight” to play pro sports. That’s why I asked.

Eric chewed, thinking. “I don’t know. I think about it sometimes, and I really can’t say. I know why I started dating him. He’s a great guy, and I wanted us to be friends. I’d just broken up with this girl I was engaged to—she caught me in bed with her best friend—yeah, stupid, I know. Before him, I only dated women. Never even thought about a man. He was really sweet and funny—smart too. He was persistent but not in a pushy way, y’know? He’d do things to make me feel good. After we were hanging out as friends for about six weeks—it was one night where we were hanging out at his place watching some movie on cable—he just put his arm around me and I just kind of let him. That’s when I realized I liked him as a lot more than just a friend. It took a long time before I let him kiss me or blow me—and it took a helluva lot longer before I blew him or let him fuck me. I had some hang-ups I had to get over. That, and he’s kind well-hung and I wasn’t sure I could take it. First time he took off his pants in front of me, I was like, Holy shit, is that all him? That can’t be legit! It’s fun and he really gets me off, but the sex stuff, that’s just for Chad. I don’t really think about other guys. It’s all chicks, except for him. Yeah, I love him—I’m crazy for him, I guess. Yeah, we’ve done some three-ways with other guys. But Chad’s the only guy I ever felt like this for, so I think I’m still straight.”

Breck asked, “So do you think he hypnotized you into loving him?”

Eric laughed. “No frickin’ way, man! That hypnosis stuff, it’s all a bunch of crap. Yeah, I know—Chad has this big certificate on his wall that says he can do it. You’ve seen it too—right there on his living room wall, larger than life. But, let’s be real. I guess if you think you’re hypnotized, you’re hypnotized. But I don’t believe in it, and he’s never even tried to hypnotize me, ‘cause he knows it won’t work. I’m too strong-willed.”

Breck and I, we both knew perfectly well hypnosis is real, so we just looked at each other. Then changed the subject.

Later that night, the three of us were sitting around Breck’s place, having a few beers, channel-surfing, and shooting the shit. Just being guys. I had the next day, Friday, off because Chad was coming in.

Eric stood up and stretched and excused himself to go pee. I guess he saw the portable phone next to Breck’s bed as he passed the bedroom door, because he paused there on his way back and asked if Breck minded if he used the phone to call Chad. Breck said okay, and Eric disappeared into the bedroom and closed the door most of the way for privacy.

Me, I had to take a piss a few minutes later, so I pulled myself off of the carpet where Breck was propped half on me. When I came out of the bathroom, through the crack in the bedroom door, I saw Eric’s leg. He must have been stretched out on the bed. I peeked through the gap. I could only see up to mid-thigh, where it looked like his shorts were bunched. I heard him moan, heard a familiar rubbing sound. He’s having phone sex with Chad, I thought, grinning.

A voice whispering next to me: “What’s going on?” Breck had crept over. I let him peer through the crack. “Oh, man!” Breck mouthed silently to me.

Eric moaned and said something I didn’t catch, and that rubbing sound sped up.

Breck eased the door open a little further.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed softly. Probably Eric wouldn’t hear over the TV behind us, but why take chances?

Breck grinned at me when he pulled back from the crack. “You gotta see this,” he whispered.

I looked. Eric was stretched out on the bed, all right. On his back. The phone wedged up against the side of his head. He had his shirt off, his shorts wadded at mid-thigh. His body was nearly perfect. He obviously didn’t see us. His eyes were half-closed, fluttering and blinking rapidly; his gaze was unfocused, aimed at something in his head only he could see. I took one look at his expression a mixture of slack and lust, and thought, he’s entranced. He was jacking off all right, quickly, one hand working over his pretty circumcised penis. His other hand arced though the air in front of him, and his lips worked, as if he was caressing and kissing a phantom lover. His balls were riding up tight, and his breaths were ragged. He was about to cum.

I pushed Breck away. “Give the man some privacy,” I murmured, pushing Breck back to where we had been sitting. I parked myself as well.

“Dude,” Breck said, laughing. “Did you see his face? And he says he’s never been hypnotized! That’s such a crock of bullshit.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t remember,” I replied, grinning,

“Riiiiiiight,” Breck smirked. “Doesn’t remember it, my ass! No one is that good!”

Just then we heard a guttural grunt from the bedroom. Then nothing for several minutes. Then the door opened, and Eric shuffled out—shorts pulled back up but shirt, shoes, and socks off. He dropped his shirt and shoes and stuff by the couch, then fell face down on it. “Guys, I’m beat. I think I’m gonna turn in.”

“How’s Chad?” I asked.

“Huh?” Eric looked at me mid-yawn, surprised for a second. “Oh, he’s fine. We’re all set for tomorrow.”

“Cool,” I said, flashing a grin that might have been for Eric or for Breck, but for different reasons. I reached for the cable remote like nothing had just happened and turned off the TV. “Breck, let’s turn in too, okay?”

I turned out the lights, and Breck went to pee. We met up in his bedroom. We stripped down and crawled into bed. He slipped into my arms, and I kissed him, forehead first, then mouth-to-mouth. He squeezed my ass with one hand, and his cock began to swell and rise against my hip. Okay, I thought, I’m about to get some.

The phone rang.

Breck yanked it up off the cradle. “Hullo?” Okay, now you’re probably thinking, what convenient time for Chad to call. Right? Maybe, but Breck said, “Hi, Mom ... Oh, nothing—just hanging out and getting ready for bed ... No, you’re not disturbing anything.” He made an awkward face, and I nearly busted out laughing.

He chatted with his mother for a while, and I said hello to her too and we spoke for a few minutes. (I haven’t met her in person, but she knows about Breck and me dating and always asks how I’m doing.) I guess all total, we were on the phone with her for maybe ten minutes. More than enough time for our erections to disappear, but we both knew they’d come back quickly.

Breck hung up, and not ten seconds later—before we could even start kissing—it rang again. He picked up and said, “Hi, Mom, what did you forget? ... Oh, hi, Chad. Yeah, Brock’s here.”

Breck and I shifted so our heads were together, one ear each pressed up to the phone between us. “Hey, Chad,” I said. “Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

He said, “I’m looking forward to it too.” He said something else too, about what he wanted us to do. I think maybe there was a keyword in what he said, but I felt myself zoning out. Breck’s eyes were fluttering and blinking. I realized mine were too. I was so very sleepy. Breck was too. Chad told us what he wanted us to do again, and I felt my whole body relax and sink into the bed, into sleep, against Breck’s.

It was just a dream, I think. The covers were pulling back, and I opened my eyes and my body was climbing out of bed, on auto-pilot. My body walked to the bedroom door opened it. My voice said Eric’s name and something else, an instruction from Chad. Eric rose from the couch and walked toward me. He and I climbed onto the bed with Breck, our heads together so we could all hear Chad at the same time.

I had an erection, so hard it sang out to be touched. Breck was hard too. Eric eased his shorts down and off in one smooth glide, and he was hard and naked too. Breck lay back. Eric between his legs. Eric rolled back Breck’s foreskin, fascinated by his cock, then began to blow him. Eric’s hips turned, and his perfect cock called out to me. My hand wrapped around it and stroked it. This little pearl of precum formed on the tip, and I wiped it away, and my mouth zeroed in on his wood. Breck’s hand on my ass, then one spit-slick finger flowing into me.

We shifted. Eric’s mouth hit my cock, while Breck parted Eric’s beautiful butt and rimmed him. I felt pretty damn good. My body relaxed, and my orgasm just overflowed from some quiet place deep inside me, gentle as a narcotic.

I sank back, suddenly so very tired, sinking from my dream back into the blankness of sleep. Breck was lubing Eric’s ass. My eyes closed.

12. November 19, 1999

We went to the airport in Breck’s car and picked Chad up around noon. After lunch, we headed back to Breck’s to drop off Chad’s stuff and let him make a few phone calls. We also had to meet Bill, who was coming in for a visit. Bill wasn’t going to William’s party, but he was coming in for that usual weekend of hanging out.

We were all just sitting around when Bill got there. Chad was on the phone, taking care of last-minute work stuff—he didn’t miss a beat when Bill walked in but I still managed to catch his expression before he covered it up. It was definitely a “who’s that hottie” look.

Chad came up to me in the kitchen after he got off the phone, where I was helping to myself to some water from the ‘fridge. “So that’s the guy you told me about? The straight Marine you used to date?”

“Yeah, that’s him, but he prefers to be called ‘Bill,’ not ‘that straight Marine Brock used to date.’”

Chad laughed. “He’s cute. I’d like to get him in front of my camera. Hey, didn’t you tell me Breck hypnotized him once? Or did I read that in one of the stories you posted on the Internet?”

“Yeah, that’s right. A couple of weeks ago, before we came to New York.”

“Was he a good subject? Military types usually are. Like you jocks.” E poked me playfully in the chest.

I blushed and said, “Breck said he was—he didn’t seem to have any problem getting him under.”

Chad helped himself to a glass of water too. “Like I said, they’re trained to follow instructions. It’s just a matter of getting them into a state where they are willing to accept instructions from the hypnotist.”

Just then, Bill walked in, heading to the ‘fridge himself. “Hey, guys. Whatcha talking about?”

Chad said. “Hypnosis,” and I just about panicked. He said, “I’m a hypnotist, and Brock was just asking me a few questions about it. Oh, by the way, I’m Chad.”

Bill grabbed the bottle of Mountain Dew out of the refrigerator and put it on the counter. I swear, the boy’s addicted to Mountain Dew—he would live on Dew and those Goldfish crackers if I let him. He said, “Hey, Chad. I’m Bill.”

They shook hands. Chad said, “So, have you ever been hypnotized, Bill?” Chad didn’t let go of Bill’s hand. In fact, he had his left hand cradling Bill’s elbow.

Bill said, “Huh?”

Chad pulled Bill’s arm out a little straighter. “It’s easy. Most people don’t realize how easy it is. With the right approach, someone can go into a trance quickly. Bill, look at me for just a moment. As you focus your eyes on me and listen to my voice, just allow things to take place.” Chad began raising and lowering Bill’s arm, slowly, just a few inches each way, like a slow-motion handshake. “As I raise and lower your arm, have you noticed that drowsy, heavy feeling beginning to occur in and around your eyes? Each time I raise your arm, that heavy feeling in those eyes keeps getting stronger. As your eyes begin to close down, you want more and more to just allow them to remain closed. They’re closing down all the way now. Let it happen. Want it to happen. Feel it happening now.”

Bill’s eyelids were blinking, starting to close. Chad raised Bill’s arm higher into the air each time Bill’s eyes blinked down, letting him associate his eyes closing with his arm being raised. Then Chad lifted Bill’s arm still higher, and Bill’s eyes shut.

To me, Chad whispered, “See? It’s very easy. That’s a rapid induction method for experienced subjects.”

That pang of something I had felt as Chad just went for it again—was that jealousy?

Chad told Bill he was going to wake him up on the count of three, when Chad counted down and snapped his fingers, Bill’s head snapped up, and his eyes jerked open.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. I just hypnotized you for a moment to demonstrate the process to Brock. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Did I ... ?”

“No, I didn’t make you do anything. I just helped you go into a light trance, then brought you out of it.”

Bill looked at me, and I nodded. “Oh,” he said.

“You’re a good subject,” Chad said, and Bill kind of grinned. “And you’re very good-looking too.” When Chad started up his “Have you ever modeled for a photographer before” spiel, I left them there to chat.

Breck and Eric were sitting cross-legged on the floor, absorbed in trying to ace the other in some fast-paced PlayStation combat game. This wasn’t like the time when we visited Chad—they had the sound cranked up through Breck’s stereo a little on the loud side, and I couldn’t hear a thing from the kitchen. All I could hear was myself thinking. How should I play this? Was Chad trying to hypnotize Bill again? Should I try to find out? I didn’t care if Chad hypnotized Eric—that was between them. I didn’t really mind if he hypnotized me, since he knew I was kind of into it, and anyway I knew what was going on. I didn’t care if he hypnotized Breck—Breck knows how to hypnotize and should have been able to recognize what was happening and not let it if he didn’t want to. But Bill--Bill was clueless here. Breck had hypnotized him once without him knowing it, but that was when I was there. Even though we weren’t dating anymore, Bill was still my oldest and best friend, and I didn’t want him getting in over his head. So what should I do?

A few minutes later, just about the time I’d made p my mind to head back to the kitchen and see what’s going down, Chad stuck his head out. “Hey, Breck, can I use your bedroom to shoot some photos for a while?”

Breck flung his answer over his shoulder—“Yeah, sure”—without taking his eyes off the screen.

A couple of minutes later, Chad and Bill both came out of the kitchen. Chad said to him, “Why don’t you go on to the bedroom. I’ll be right there, as soon as I get my camera out of Breck’s car.”

I followed Bill into Breck’s bedroom. Did he seem groggy or awake? Had he been hypnotized? I couldn’t tell. He seemed wide awake to me. I asked, “You know what kind of pictures Chad likes to take?”

“Yeah ... He just wants to take some pictures. Nothing serious.”

“You sure you want to go through with this?”

“He says he won’t publish them. It’s just test shots and stuff. I don’t have to do anything or take off anything I don’t want to. He’s going to pay me.”

“Listen, Bill, do you know what he does when he’s taking pictures of guys?”

“Brock, I can make my own decisions—and frankly, the only reason I’m doing it is I need the money. I gotta put new brakes on my car, and like, real soon.”

That’s when Chad came in and hustled me out. “Okay, guys,” he announced, blocking the door, “I don’t want to be disturbed.”

Eric and Breck were both like, “Yeah, whatever,” absorbed in their game.

Chad said, “That means you too, Brock. Do not disturb.”

Okay, so Bill would be on his own. He was right: he was an adult and a Marine, and he could take care of himself. “Okay,” I said, “sure.”

So I stayed out in the living room with Breck and Eric and tried not to be—what?— -worried? Jealous?

When they came out, Chad putting his film into a pack, Bill in his jeans and pulling his tee-shirt back on, I watched for signs. Bill seemed awake and alert, as if nothing except photography had happened. I followed Bill when he headed to the bathroom. He wouldn’t tell me what happened. “Jesus, Brock, you act like I was cheating on you or something,” was all he’d say about it.

That night we hit the bars. Breck and Bill and I love to dance, so that’s what we do at least one day most weekends. Chad isn’t much of a bar person, but Eric wanted to check out the Atlanta clubs with us, so Chad came along too.

We went to EchoLounge and saw a band which it turned out Chad had heard of, called Man Or Astro-Man. He said he had a couple of their CDs. I thought they were kind of weird—this kind of surf-punk sound with a really sentimental 50s or 60s sci-fi nostalgia. Fun and lots of energy, but weird.

After that, we took Chad and Eric dancing. We hit our favorite clubs. The Heretic. Backstreets. The Armory. Around midnight, we ended up dancing where the crowd was hot and the music was hotter. Breck, Bill, and I whipped off our shirts, because that’s what we always do—plus, with the heat of all those guys there dancing and so tight-packed, we were sweating pretty much the minute we hit the dance floor. Eric doffed his shirt too—for a straight guy, he sure danced pretty well.

We were having a great time. The music was primal, deafening as a panicked heartbeat. After a while, Eric leaned in and yelled over flood of sound that he was going to go see what happened to Chad. The floor was so crowded it took him a while to actually slip away. Bill, Breck, and me—we kept dancing our asses off. The DJ was spinning a great set, and we weren’t about to miss any of it.

It must have been half an hour later that Bill left us to go get something to drink. Then Breck saw and waved at one of his friends and went over to say hello. I danced for a couple minutes more, but then the DJ kinda faltered by mixing in a song I didn’t like, so I decided to hit the bar for something to drink too. I downed a bottle of water and decided to go look for the others.

I found Chad, Eric, and Bill back in the “cool down” area, this part of the club that’s kind of separated off. It had its own bar and some tables and it was a little quieter—not much, though, because the thump-thump-thump of the music was full force. Muffled and monotonous, it sounded as numbingly hypnotic as listening to a lover’s pulse. There were only two or three other people here—mostly everyone were out on the dance floor where the action was.

Something was going on with them. I could tell the minute I saw them. So I just stood and watched a minute from across the room.

Chad was leaning with his back to the bar. Eric, shirtless, in just his jeans, stood with his back pressed to the right side of Chad’s chest. Chad’s right arm circled from under Eric’s arm around his chest like a shield, his hand gripping Eric’s pectoral possessively. Eric’s eyes were closed, head bowed slightly, a small contented smile.

Bill stood in front of them, kind of half in profile to me. He was sweaty and he had his shirt still off from dancing too, like me, like Eric. He was just standing there. Chad was talking to him. I couldn’t read Chad’s lips and I sure couldn’t hear him—probably even Bill was having to strain to hear him—but I could tell from how intensely he was looking at Bill. The measured way he seemed to be speaking. The way Bill’s eye were already blinking, heavy-lidded. The way this little smile was showing up on Bill’s face. Chad’s left arm opened out. Bill took a little step forward, into its circle. Bill let himself be turned around, let Chad’s arm slip under his and around his chest, drawing him back until Bill’s back settled against the left side of Chad’s chest, alongside Eric. Bill’s expression, as his eyes closed the rest of the way and stayed shut, was pure contentment. His hands came up and held on to Chad’s arm like a security blanket, like a little kid being held by his father and sleeping in his daddy’s arms.

Chad looked me right in the eye when I walked up. The music was so overwhelming, even here, I could barely make out his words. “Hi, Brock. Having fun?”

“Chad, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Same as you. Enjoying myself.”

“No, I mean, why did you hypnotize them here, in a damn bar!”

“Because I wanted to. Because they wanted me to.”

“Bullshit. Eric—you can do whatever you want with Eric, but Bill is my friend. You can’t just—”

“I can’t what? Hypnotize him without his permission? That’s true. Look at him. He’s right where he wants to be. He’s feeling just what he wants to feel.”

“And what’s that?”

“Like he belongs. Same reason he joined the Marines. Same reason he got into a relationship with you. Same reason he’s been letting Breck hypnotize him. All Bill wants is to feel like he belongs somewhere, to someone.”

What he said about Breck surprised me. “Breck? That only happened once.”

“Once? No, Bill doesn’t remember it consciously perhaps, but when I hypnotized him before, he remembered it. Breck has been hypnotizing him pretty much every time he comes to visit.”

“That can’t be true.” Why did I suddenly feel so angry and betrayed, unless it was true?

Okay, here’s some background information on why I felt so pissed off. I told you earlier that I’d tell you about the fight Breck and Bill and I had the weekend before. See, I walked in on Breck giving Bill a blow-job. No, no, there was no hypnosis involved—at least none I could tell. As far as I could see, Bill was stretched out on the couch getting blown of his own free will, and Breck was kneeling between Bill’s spread legs and he sure was blowing Bill. I didn’t get really mad or anything—I was mostly shocked and surprised. I mean, I kinda suspected Bill and Breck were getting really friendly, but I kind of expected Bill as my best friend—and a straight man, too, or so he claims—to keep his hands off my boyfriend, just like I expected Breck as my boyfriend to keep his hands off my best friend. They’re both good-looking and plenty sexy, so I could understand why they’d be attracted to each other, but damn! Some things people should just know not to do, and that Marine “honor” thing Bill’s always talking about should have told him not to, but I guess Breck can be a real seductive bastard when he wants to be. Mostly I was pissed because Breck and I had been talking about becoming monogamous and moving in together and not having sex outside of our relationship. I thought we were talking seriously, but I guess Breck wasn’t.

So that was just a week ago. I got pissed and threw Breck and Bill both out, and I didn’t talk to either of them for a couple of days, until they both apologized and we all agreed to forgive and forget. A one-time thing—that’s what I thought it was, and that’s what Bill and Breck both swore it was. But now Chad was saying there was a lot more shit going on between them than I knew. More than Bill knew too, from the sound of it.

Anyway, that’s all beside the point. Right then, right there in the bar, Chad was saying, “Maybe Breck had you in a trance when it happened, or maybe he told you not to remember it, but he has been hypnotizing Bill regularly.” To Bill, Chad asked, “Bill, here’s a question that’s so easy for you to answer, and you can answer it honestly. Has Breck been hypnotizing you almost every weekend?”

Bill mumbled something I couldn’t hear, but I read his lips easily enough. He said, “Yeah.”

Chad said, “See? Listen, Brock, instead of staying at Breck’s place, I think Eric, Bill, and I are going to get a hotel room tonight. We’re going to want some privacy and it sounds like you have some things to work out with Breck. Is that okay with you?”

I put my hand on Bill’s arm and gave it a little shake, trying to rouse him. “Bill? You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Bill? Wake up and let’s go home.” Bill squirmed a little, trying to nestle closer into Chad’s chest.

Chad pushed my hand away tenderly. “Brock, he’s right where he wants to be, and he’s not going to do anything he doesn’t want to. You have my word on that. Go find Breck. Talk to him.”

“Fuck it! Fuck you!” I spat at him like cobra venom. I stormed off. Real mature, huh?

I found Breck by the door, where he’d just said goodbye to his leaving friends. “I wanna ask you something,” I snarled.

Breck pointed at his friends and said, “Them? They’re just some friends of mine.”

“No. Shut up and listen. Have you been hypnotizing Bill more since that time with the candle in your living room?”

Breck looked at me. He started to say something, then stopped.

“Well? Answer me. It’s a simple question. Have you been hypnotizing Bill since that first time in your living room? Yes or no.”

Breck decided to tell me the truth. “Yes, but that wasn’t the first time.”

Holy fuck, was I pissed! “And just when were you planning on telling me?” I was staring him right in the eyes, daring him to look away.

He was staring right back. “I didn’t think it was important. You know it’s not important, Brock. Just let it go, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay—”

Breck kept right on talking. “Let it go. You must be tired from your long week and all that dancing. Yeah, so tired. All that’s really important is for you to slee-—”

See, wrestling taught me to move like lightning. Breck never even saw my hands coming. One snapped around the back of his head, and the other clamped over his mouth. His eyes bugged out.

I growled, “Don’t—you—ever—try—to—hypnotize—your—way—out—of—an—argument. Understand?”

Breck just stared at me for a moment. Then he nodded, as best he could with my hands clamped like a vice around his head.

I heaved him back. He ricocheted off some guy, but I didn’t care. I stomped off out the door. Yanked my tee-shirt out of my back pocket and struggled into it.

I heard Breck yelling, “Brock!” behind me, but he had the sense not to follow me across the parking lot as I hailed a cab.

13. November 20, 1999

I didn’t go home. I went to a friend’s house and stayed the night there because I didn’t want Breck showing up at my place to talk. I didn’t want to talk to him until I was ready.

I thought about skipping William’s party, but I decided to go because I had been looking forward to it for a couple of weeks and I wanted to see my friends. See, an invitation to William’s Thanksgiving bash is a real coup; this was the third time I’d been invited, and I didn’t want to blow this off. Yeah, I’d be sure to see Chad there too, but this mess wasn’t his fault. I wasn’t really that mad at him. I didn’t know if Breck would be there—he was supposed to go as my date. I was hoping he’d have the sense not to show.

I had to go back to my apartment for a change of clothes before William’s party. My roommies were all gone. No Breck either. Place was silent as a tomb. I had, like, twenty messages stuck to my bedroom door. A couple in each of my roommates’ handwriting but they all said the same thing: “Breck called.” I checkd my email and deleted the seven or eight messages from Breck unread. Our second fight ever, and it was one week after the first. A bad sign?

Sure enough, I ran into Chad at the party. He asked if I was all right, said Breck had been way worried the night before. I said I was, and tough. I was glad to hear, though, that Breck hadn’t come.

“So where’s Eric,” I asked, changing the subject.

“He’s around somewhere—probably out back.”

“And Bill?”

“He’s with Breck.” Okay, I had this flash of ... anger? Jealousy? Whatever. Anyway, Chad pretended not to notice. “Breck was pretty upset. I don’t think he slept all night.”

“Yeah, well, whatev’s, buddy.” Change of topic. “Listen, there’s something I want you to do for me.”

“Which is?”

“I want this stuff out of my head.”

“This stuff? You mean, post-hypnotic suggestions or something?”

“Yeah. I hate that he has a way to hypnotize me again, and I hate that I don’t remember much of what he’s done, and maybe some other suggestions too. I want to remember it all.”

He grinned and said, “You know, you can take care of that yourself.”

“Huh?”

“You can hypnotize yourself. All hypnosis is self-hypnosis. If he taught you to hypnotize yourself on command, there’s no reason you can’t use those same ways to hypnotize yourself on your own.”

“How?”

“Simple. Tell yourself the same things he told you when he induced a trance. That you’re feeling relaxed. That you’re feeling focused and open to making changes. Then suggest those changes to yourself. Tell yourself not to listen to his key words. Tell yourself that you’ll remember everything. That sort of thing.”

“Okay. I’ll try that.” I was feeling kind of iffy, though, because I had already been asleep a lot of the times when Breck did his induction.

“Let me know how it works.”

I said, “Call me after this party breaks up. I’ll tell you then.”

“Okay. That might be late—some of us are going out afterward.”

“I don’t care how late. Call me.”

“Okay.”

I walked off. There were around a hundred people there, and I mingled and flirted because it got my mind off my problems. I saw Chad or Eric across the room every now and then, but that was it. Mostly I flirted with cute guys I didn’t know—and there were a lot of them there. Nothing too serious, though, and all I did was flirt. Well, okay, so I flirted hard with this one real hottie and came damn close to letting myself get picked up by him, but I figured that would be a bad thing in my current state of mind and with things with Breck still up in the air. Anyway, I got the hottie’s phone number, in case I want to use it later.

Things at the party didn’t start breaking up until midnight—not bad for a party that started around lunchtime. I went home and told my roommies—two of them, Chris and Tim, were home—I didn’t want to be disturbed, and I locked the door.

So that catches you up to right now, around 2:30 a.m. on the Sunday morning before Thanksgiving. I’ve tried to keep my mind off things while I’m waiting for Chad to call. I leafed through this fitness magazine. Checked my email. Wrote up what happened tonight in a hurry while it’s still fresh in my mind. Shit like that.

Okay, I did try to hypnotize myself like Chad suggested—a couple of times, too. I never had tried before. I tried to clear my head and tell myself I was relaxing and opening up to suggestions. But ... well, I guess it felt just fricking weird to try doing it to myself, and nothing happened.

It’s a little after 2:30 now, and I’m considering in the back of my head whether to jack off or just get some sleep, but I know Chad will call any minute because he said he would. He’s a man of his word. He’ll call, and then I’m going to have him put me into a trance. I’ve got a list of suggestions I want to give myself to lock out Breck’s key phrase and to let me remember everything. All I need is for Chad to help me open up and help me accept my own suggestions. He’ll do it because I’m going to ask him to so I can put this right. And if he says no the first time—well, let’s just say I can be a damned persuasive bastard when I want to be too. In the morning, I’m going to be a new man.