The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

14. July 6

The last time I added to “True Life” (Part 3) was about eight months ago, around the end of November. It’s early July now.

Why the delay? Mostly because, as you probably read in Part 3, my then-boyfriend Breck and I were hitting some rough times, and we ultimately broke up. Only part of why we broke up got described in Part 3. Breck did apologize for all the shit he pulled, but he couldn’t seem to apologize without also confessing some additional transgression that I hadn’t known about, which just felt sketchy to me. I tried writing a Part 4 back then, which would have described how my friend Chad helped me undo some of the suggestions Breck had given me when he hypnotized me, but I found I was still too close to it all, still hurting. I couldn’t manage to write about what was happening without also dumping a lot of shit about Breck and how angry I was into the story, and I didn’t think it was fair to air all that to the Internet where Breck couldn’t explain anything or say anything to defend himself. Since he and I were really trying to work out our issues, I felt he deserved a chance to wo! rk it out with me first.

Anyway, Breck and I finally broke up. Ultimately, though he was two years older than I (he was 25 at the time), he was a lot less mature. Maturity and age only sometimes go together. So I called it off and told him we could maybe try dating again in the future, after he grew up a little. Most of our issues centered around infidelity and his cheating on me—and not just with Bill on the side, as I documented in Part 3. I don’t have a problem with open relationships, but Breck made us agree to be monogamous, to “give ourselves time to grow as a couple,” and what pissed me off was the way he broke the vow he made us agree to by secretly screwing around with about nine other guys total in the four and a half months we were officially together.

Anyway, Breck and I broke up, but there’s the beginning of a happy ending there. In May, five and a half months after we broke up, we finally managed to put all the hurt and all the problems behind us, and we’re really good friends. More than friends, really, though we aren’t having sex. (Well, aside from that time we went to the nude beach together in early June, but that’s another story.) Maybe we’ll even get back together someday. Maybe.

Right now, though, I’m dating Sean. After Breck and I broke up, I dated a lot of guys once or twice—nothing lasting. Bill, my best friend, the ex-Marine (remember him from Parts 1 and 3?), and I started having sex again—even though he’s really straight. That lasted until about mid-June when Bill met a chick and I met Sean—two things that happened pretty much at the same time. You’ll be hearing more about Sean soon.

First, though, I’m going to tell you about my friend Chad’s visit, his first time back to Atlanta, where I live, since November. This time, his boyfriend Eric was busy with some soccer function, so Chad had to come by himself. Bill and I (Sean wasn’t with us since he had to work) went out to the airport to pick Chad up. He was going to stay at the apartment I share with my roommates while he was in town.

We went out to dinner at this great place that I’d never tried before, called Babette’s. Chad and Bill know each other pretty well. They had this major magnetism thing going on during Chad’s last visit; Chad had hypnotized Bill a couple of times too (which wasn’t what made me jealous), and I think Bill had a couple of three-ways with Chad and his boyfriend Eric without me (which was!). So at dinner it was pretty clear to me that Chad and Bill were picking up where they left off, only minus Eric.

Chad is mid-thirties. Bill is my age: 23. You might think Bill and I would have nothing to talk about with Chad, but we have a lot in common, starting from our interest in the same kinds of music and going on from there. Chad is a certified hypnotist, and a damn good one too, and I know he has hypnotized me—and Bill too, though I don’t think Bill remembers anything about it. Chad says Bill is an easy subject, the kind of person who naturally tends toward a hypnotic state of mind. Since Bill doesn’t remember being hypnotized, and since he says he’s really straight (sex with me notwithstanding, apparently), I had asked Chad earlier not to hypnotize Bill while he was visiting.

Annnnyhow, we had a great dinner, then went to hang out in a couple of bars, including this bar Chad really likes called Mary’s in East Atlanta that plays videos. The VJ there played this hilarious Take That video for “Do What You Want” (Chad’s request—he called it “the butt video”). Think of what a Backstreet Boys or N’Sync video would be if the guys bounced around shirtless in these tight black shorts nearly the whole time and even showed their bare asses a lot. We laughed our asses off!

It was Thursday night and we went back to my apartment for a drink before Bill had to drive home to that chick he’s dating. It was after midnight so all three of my roommates (all straight—what a waste of cute male flesh) were apparently tucked in their bedrooms asleep or else were out with their girlfriends.

Chad sat down in the middle of the couch, and Bill parked his ass in his favorite chair, the one adjoining the couch with the perfect view of the television for playing video games. I went to the kitchen to get us drinks, and I found a note one of my roommates left for me, saying a friend had called and wanted me to call back before 1:00. It was nearly that time then, so after I gave Chad and Bill their drinks, I excused myself to go to the kitchen to return my friend’s call.

When I came out of the kitchen—it had to be less than fifteen minutes later—Chad was still sitting in the middle of the couch. Bill, though, wasn’t in the chair. He was on the couch too now—curled up on the couch beside Chad, his shirt and shoes off, curled up in just his jeans with his head on Chad’s shoulder, and Chad had his arm protectively across Bill’s bare shoulders. Bill’s eyes were closed, and he might have been sleeping. I knew Chad though, and I knew Bill wasn’t asleep. Not normal sleep anyway. No, Bill had dropped his favorite USMC cap and his favorite tee-shirt, the olive one with “Marines” across the chest, onto the floor—no way this was normal.

Chad looked up at me and smiled.

“Chad,” I stage-whispered. “Did you hypnotize Bill again?”

He feigned surprise. “Why, it sure looks that way, Brock.”

I scolded him with, “Chad, I thought we had an agreement—hands off of Bill. No hypnotizing him without him knowing what’s going on.”

“Oh, he knows. Some part of him, anyway, knows exactly what’s happening.”

“Chad, we had an agreement. It’s wrong to hypnotize Bill without his knowledge and permission.”

“Right. And if he lets himself go into a trance, obviously he’s given his permission. Plus, his subconscious mind has been practically asking me all night to hypnotize him. Bill likes being hypnotized.” Chad looked down at Bill, almost nuzzling him. “Don’t you, Bill?”

Bill mumbled , “Uh huh ...,” almost too quietly for me to hear.

Chad said, “See?”

“Listen, Chad, I think maybe this is wrong. Bill is straight.” Okay, maybe my voice was kind of raised above a stage whisper now, but I wasn’t yelling. I was just making my point.

“No need to get upset, Brock. Bill is an intelligent, perceptive young man. Some part of him knows exactly what’s going on. And as for him being straight—well, if I recall, you and he have been having sex on and off for a little over a year now. That’s not exactly straight behavior.”

“Chad, just this once, would you shut up about what is and isn’t straight and just leave Bill alone? Just tell him to put his shirt back on and wake him up. He’s my friend, and I don’t like you doing this to him. You know that. Please? As a favor to me?”

“Why, Brock? Don’t you find being hypnotized relaxing? Bill likes being hypnotized a lot. It’s very natural for him, and I’m just helping him relax.”

“Chad, this bullshit is just getting on my nerves, okay?”

“Brock, you’re getting yourself upset over nothing. You used to love when I’d hypnotize you. Remember?”

“That’s not the same thing, Chad. I knew what was going on, and mostly I liked it. Hell, I even wrote a story about it. But Bill—”

“Bill can wake up anytime he wants. But right now, he doesn’t want to. Isn’t that right, Bill?”

From Bill, “Uh huh ...”

“See?” Chad said. “Brock, you’re making this big drama over nothing.” His voice changed to that authoritative tone I remembered. “Have a seat.”

I sat down in my chair. Don’t ask me why—I just did.

“Brock, I want to help you relax and see things more clearly.”

“No—I don’t want to be hypnotized.”

“Sure you do,” he said, sounding completely sure of himself. “Just like all those times before. I want you to take a deep breath and hold it. Just hold it until I tell you to let it out.”

Don’t ask me why, but I did—I took a deep breath and held it.

“That’s good. Now, I want you to imagine the oxygen flooding into your lungs and spreading out through your body. Good. Now let it out, slowly.”

I let the breath out: " ... hoooooou ...”

“Now another deep breath, and this time, flex your feet and your ankles while you hold it. That’s right. Send the oxygen down into your feet. Can you picture it in your mind? Can you feel the oxygen flooding through your ankles and feet and feeding the muscles and helping relax them?”

Chad kept telling me when to breathe, when to let it out, what to flex and where to send the oxygen. Seemed kind of silly at first, but I could feel the knots in my shoulders starting to loosen a little. Don’t ask me why—I knew he was starting to hypnotize me, and I didn’t even try to stop him.

“In a moment, I’m going to help you relax more completely. In a moment, I’m going to begin counting backward from 10 to 1. When I start the count with the number 10, let your eyelids close, and I want you to see yourself, in your mind’s eye, at the top of a small set of stairs. The moment I say the number 9, and each number that follows, you will simply picture yourself moving down those stairs, relaxing more completely. At the base of the stairs is a large feather bed, with a comfortable feather pillow. The moment I say the number 1, you will simply sink into that bed, resting your head on that feather pillow.”

Chad paused for a moment. Then he said, “Ten; eyes closed, picturing yourself at the top of those stairs ... Ten ...

“Nine ... Relaxing and letting go. Nine ...

“Eight ... Sinking into a more comfortable, calm position ...

“Seven ....

“Six ... Going further down ...

“Five ... Moving down those stairs. Relaxing more completely.

“Four ...

“Three ... Breathe in, deeply ...

“Two ... On the next number, one, simply sinking into that bed, becoming more calm, more peaceful, more relaxed ...

“One ... Sinking into that feather bed. Let every muscle go limp and loose as you sink into a more calm, peaceful state of relaxation.

“Brock, you can close your eyes now ... Begin breathing deeply and slowly ... Before you let go completely and go into a deep hypnotic state, just let yourself listen carefully to everything I say to you. It’s going to happen automatically, so you don’t need to think about that now. You will have no conscious control over what happens. The muscles in and around your eyes will relax, all by themselves, as you continue breathing. Easily and freely. Without thinking about it, you will soon enter a deep, peaceful, hypnotic trance, without any effort ...

“That’s it. There’s nothing important for your conscious mind to do. There is nothing important except the activities of your subconscious mind, and that can be just as automatic as dreaming, and you know how easily you can forget your dreams when you awaken.

“You are responding very well, Brock. Without noticing it, you have already altered your rate of breathing. You are breathing much more easily and freely, and you are revealing signs that indicate you are beginning to drift into a hypnotic trance again.

“You can really enjoy relaxing more and more, and your subconscious mind will listen to each word I say. It keeps becoming less important for you to consciously listen to my voice. Your subconscious mind can hear even if I whisper.

“You are continuing to drift into a more detached state where nothing can disturb you. Anytime something tries to disturb you, just let it go completely. Your mind puts the disturbance aside and lets it go.

“You continue becoming more relaxed and comfortable as you sit there with your eyes closed. As you experience that deepening comfort, you don’t have to move, or talk, or let anything bother you. Your own inner mind responds automatically to everything I tell you, and you will be pleasantly surprised with your continuous progress.

“You are getting much closer to a deep hypnotic trance. You are beginning to realize that you don’t care that you are going into a deep trance. Being in this peaceful state allows you to experience the comfort of the hypnotic trance. Being hypnotized is always a very enjoyable, very pleasant, calm, peaceful, completely relaxing experience. It seems natural, doesn’t it, to include hypnosis in your future.

“Every time I hypnotize you, it keeps becoming more enjoyable, and you continue to really enjoy having me hypnotize you. You will always enjoy the sensations—of comfort, of peacefulness, of calmness, and all the other sensations that come automatically from this wonderful experience. You will be really happy that you decided to let me hypnotize you.

“You are continuing to relax even more now, and you continue becoming more comfortable. You are going to find that any time you want to spend a few minutes by yourself, relaxing and feeling very comfortable and serene, you can automatically go back to this feeling you’re experiencing now. You can put yourself into this world anytime you like. There are times when you will want this serene feeling, and it’s yours whenever you want it.

“Continue enjoying this pleasant experience as your subconscious mind receives everything I tell you. You will be pleased by the way you automatically respond to everything I say ...”

When I opened my eyes, I knew I wasn’t really awake. I felt too ... funny. It was that feeling I remembered from the other times I’ve been hypnotized: very relaxed and very, very focused. I was on the couch now, sitting next to Chad, opposite Bill. My shirt and shoes were gone. Chad’s hand rubbed over my bare shoulder and neck, and I liked that, liked the way it helped me feel even more relaxed.

I had a hard-on. An urgent one. It felt good in my shorts. Chad purred something into my ear, and I wanted to take my cock out of my shorts, so I pushed my gym shorts down on my thighs and let my cock out. Bill was doing the same with his jeans, peeling them down to expose his erection. My hand started to jack my cock lazily, slow, steady strokes. Chad lifted his hips and eased his khaki slacks down. Bill is hung about average, and my cock is a little bigger than his. Chad’s, though, is really large, bigger than both of ours.

Chad said something to Bill, and Bill shifted around on the couch. I watched his shoulder move as he jacked himself off. His other hand held the base of Chad’s cock, and Bill lowered his mouth to it and began to lick the head. Chad said something to me. His cock fascinated me. I couldn’t get enough of it. I needed to get down there too, and I turned my body so I could continue my peaceful jack-off while my mouth nuzzled his balls. I licked and lapped at them. He had big balls, and I ran my tongue over and over them in their sack. I moved my head up, pushing Bill’s head back, and licking Chad’s shaft. Bill’s mouth slid off of Chad’s dick, and my mouth stretched over it. I’ve sucked Chad before, and I knew to let my jaw and throat relax to fit him in. I sucked him in easy strokes. When Bill’s cheek nudged mine, I yielded Chad’s cock and let Bill suck it again, and I went back to licking his balls.

Everything felt so tranquil and soothing. Just three friends sharing a good feeling together. No urgency. Just enjoying our erections. Bill couldn’t take as much of Chad’s cock in his mouth as I could, but that didn’t matter—we took turns blowing him while we jacked ourselves off. Everything felt lazy, soft, and slow. No tension. No need to rush.

Chad whispered that he was about to cum. Bill was sucking him right then, and he didn’t pull off. Chad’s body tensed and shuddered, then shuddered again. I could tell by the way his cock throbbed and his balls pulsed that he was shooting off. A little of his semen escaped the corner of Bill’s mouth and rolled down Chad’s shaft. I sent my tongue out to meet it and licked it, tasting the salt of it, following it up to Bill’s lips. Bill eased his mouth off Chad’s glans, and I kissed him, tasting Chad’s spunk and feeling the slime of it coating Bill’s invading tongue. Beneath us, I felt Chad’s body relax as he sank into the afterglow of his orgasm.

Chad told us it was okay to cum when we were ready. Bill and I kept kissing, breaking for a breath, then kissing again. We were both jacking with languid, casual strokes. Bill’s mouth tensed, his tongue froze in my mouth, and he moaned. I knew he was cumming. Right about the time Bill rode out his convulsions and began to sag, I eased across the point of no return, and my body glowed with ecstasy as my balls pumped out my load onto my belly and chest and arm..

Chad said something, and I looked up at him. He was smiling at us. He said it again, and I felt ... sleepy. Incredibly sleepy. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, so I let them close.

I woke up the next morning in the middle. We were all three in my bed, on our sides. Bill in front of me, with my body fitted up against his back, and Chad behind me, his body fitted up along mine. All three of us naked, nothing but a light sheet covering us. My arm around Bill’s body, Chad’s across us both. Did anything about the night before bug me? Not right then. I had my morning hard-on, pressed up against Bill’s bare ass, and I felt Chad’s push against my ass-crack. It felt good—hell, my whole body felt great—and I lay there, drifting in and out of a light doze, aware of how great it felt when Bill shifted a little against my dick as he slept and when I changed position against Chad’s.

Bill is such a romantic when he’s horny—and I mean that sarcastically. I rose out of my dozing to the feel of him pushing something into the hand that I had draped across his chest. My fingers closed over it. Square. Flat. A condom. That made me smile. Bill pushed his ass back against my wood, just to make sure I got the idea. Subtle, Bill.

I was wondering how Chad would take waking up to me fucking Bill, wondering whether I should go through with this now that I was dating Sean. Bill ground his ass gently against my rod. Chad, still breathing deeply against my neck, had his arm across me, across Bill; I saw his hand lift, holding up a condom packet. Bill must have pressed one into his hand too. I felt Chad gradually guide his cock against my ass, and my body responded by rubbing my butt cheek along his length. Yeah, my body felt hungry, and that’s ultimately why I did it.

I kissed Bill’s neck, then shifted myself over him. Bill rolled under me, onto his back. Chad pushed away the sheet. Bill is a Marine, through and through, and he likes to take it like a man: on his back with his legs on my shoulders. He lifted his legs. He pressed the bottle of lube against my chest. Its chill against my pectoral made me realize how hot I felt inside. I pulled on the condom. Bill was looking me right in the eye as I squirted some lube onto my fingers, onto his ass, and started to work it in with my finger. He’s a very handsome man—my age, dark hair, a tattoo on his left pec and right biceps. Hairless chest. Morning beard stubble. He grinned, and I grinned back. I gave him a kiss, not caring about his morning breath.

Chad was caressing my shoulders, stroking my back, so we knew he was with us. He took the lube from me and applied it generously to my ass. He worked a warm finger up inside me, and this comfortable feeling sprawled through me, and I worked my ass against his finger.

When Bill was ready, I pressed the point of my prick against his hole and pushed myself into him. We’ve had sex a lot in the last year, so we know just how to move together. When I was inside him, like always I stayed very still for a moment to let him get used to the feel of me inside him.

That’s when I felt Chad’s hands on my ass, his rod imposing its way into me. I pushed my ass back against it as best I could without pulling my cock out of Bill. Chad kept feeding more cock into my ass. He’s long, and every time I thought I had almost the whole thing, he’d feed another inch into me. Finally, I felt his pubes and hips against my ass, pushing me in turn deep into Bill.

Chad kissed my neck. He had a hand around my chest, anchoring us together as we leaned over Bill. Bill’s ankles slid wider. Chad’s other hand held one of Bill’s ankles and impelled it upward, easing my access to his ass. Bill grinned at me and gave a little nod—he was ready to get fucked. I was the middle man, so it was up to me to do most of the motion. I moved against Bill, drawing nearly out of his ass and then sliding back in, and Chad moved with me, then against me; with me, against me. Being in the middle like that is more challenging than you might think, but the three of us found a rhythm.

Bill just lay back, hands behind his head, legs in the air, my cock up his ass, and lost himself in the pure hedonism of being fucked. Chad’s hands were everywhere. First he was forcing me forward with his chest so he could massage Bill’s pecs, Then his hands were groping my pecs and stroking up and down the ridges of my stomach. Working their way roughly across my scalp. A light slap on my ass. Reaching up under my cock to tug on my balls. All the while his mouth nibbled at my ears, licked and kissed my neck and shoulders. He turned my chin roughly, and our stubbled cheeks ground together as his mouth found mine and fed me his tongue.

We changed positions. Bill on all fours, gasping as Chad burrowed his sizeable cock into Bill’s ass. Me on my back in front of Bill, with him finger-fucking me and sometimes trying to suck me as Chad fucked him. Bill threw his head back; his face was a mask, overwhelmed with sensations both pleasure and pain that hit his head like a drug.

We shifted again. Me on all fours. Chad kneeling between my knees as he forced his cock into me again, a long-lost friend. (Okay, I’ll admit it—I’m good in bed, but Chad is great.) Bill fed his cock into my mouth, so I could suckle it like a baby’s last meal.

We moved again. Bill on his back again. Me fucking him, as Chad knelt beside us and fed his dick first into my mouth, then into Bill’s.

Bill started to buck, groaning he was about to cum. He was on all fours again, with Chad fucking him doggy-style while I stood on the bed and let Chad lick my cock. I kept teasing Chad, playfully letting him have a lick, then pulling away, then letting him have it again. Chad turned his attention to Bill, who was jacking himself off as Chad fucked him. Chad’s hand snaked around Bill’s hip and forced away his hand, taking its place. Chad’s hand pistoned on Bill’s rod with ruthlessly efficient strokes. Bill sighed and cried out, face twisting, body contorting. His orgasms always hit him hard, and this one was massive. His whole upper body bounced as his pleasure tore through him like an earthquake. He sighed one last time, slowly going completely limp. His body slumped down onto the cum he had squirted onto my bed, slipping off of Chad’s condom-covered cock. Bill moaned, barely able to move.

Chad pulled off the condom and pulled on a fresh one. He sprawled out on the bed. I straddled him, sat myself slowly down on his cock. His right hand found my pecs and nipples, his left hand on my thigh, as I slowly rose and dropped myself along the length of his meat. This way I could control the depth and speed of the fuck. My hands found his pecs and shoulders. His cock felt so incredibly good in me. He was saying something, telling me how great my ass felt.

Bill’s eyes glittered as he watched us fuck alongside of him. He managed to prop up on one elbow for a better view. I like being watched. Bill reached out a hand, still almost limp from his overpowering orgasm, and wrapped his fingers around my cock. The motion of my body up and down on Chad’s cock also pulled and pushed my cock inside Bill’s grip. Bill managed to pull himself closer to Chad, and they kissed, slowly, lingeringly, deeply. Passionately.

I started to say, “I’m—” But then my orgasm erupted, choking the rest off in a strangled cry of bliss. I lost control of my muscles as that familiar fire roared through my body. The intensity stunned me, in more ways than one. I rode it out. At some point, I fell off Chad’s cock, fell onto the bed at Chad’s side opposite Bill.

I couldn’t see—or feel—anything but a red haze for a very long time. When my eyes began to work again, they picked out the muscular expanse of Chad’s chest, the graceful inward curve of his tight stomach. Bill’s arm running to Chad’s crotch, where his hand jerked Chad’s cock. Bill was staring at that cock in wonder, as if he had never seen it before and didn’t know how he came to be holding it. Chad’s back was slowly starting to arch, making his body rise like Atlantis from the bed. He gave a guttural groan—“Unnnngh!"—and wad after wad of white cum spurted out of his cockhead.

Bill kept milking Chad’s cock long after his orgasm subsided, until Chad had to reach down and gently stop Bill from jacking him. They grinned at each other, then kissed. Chad turned my way and we kissed. Then Bill leaned in and let his tongue join ours. Not a bad way to start the day, I thought, not bad at all.

15. July 7

Chad went to visit and hang out with some of his other friends while I went to work. Yeah, I was late getting there, but it was worth it. And I just blamed the bus system, like always (hey, three-quarters of the time, it’s true).

Chad caught up with us—Sean and me—when Sean came over after work, Sean is the guy I’m dating and he’s really sweet. He says he’s bi, and but he only started having sex with men a year ago—before that he only had sex with women. He’s 20, which is three years younger than me, and he’s about 5′8″, which is three inches shorter than me. He was a wrestler in high school, like me; and also like me, he still wrestles in the gym as part of his workouts. The athletics all through high school gave him a tight, compact body packed with muscle, which he maintains by working out. Personality-wise, he’s intelligent, great sense of humor, a real sweetheart, and very easygoing. He’s extremely cute, angelic and masculine at the same time. Dark brown hair, cut short and usually gelled. Dark brown eyes. Hairy chest, which he trims but doesn’t shave; hairy arms and legs too—he’s the first hairy guy I’ve dated. He wears a semi-short little scruff of hair on the outside rim of his c! hin—not a goatee, just a little scruff that tickles my balls when he blows me. We met about three weeks ago at a mutual friend’s house, and we hit it off immediately. I asked him out a week later, which means we had been dating almost exactly two weeks.

Sean came directly over to my place after work—he has a “mall job” at Electronics Boutique while he takes computer classes at one of the colleges in town—and he was still in his work “uniform”: white shirt with the “EB” logo stitched in red, white tee-shirt under it, a name badge that announced “SEAN,” khaki slacks, a new pair of trainers.

Chad met up with us at my apartment, and I introduced them. We went out to dinner at a really nice place—Chad’s treat, since neither Sean nor I could afford a place like this—and I could tell from the way he kept looking around that Sean was impressed. Sean didn’t say much during dinner; he can be a little shy sometimes. He seemed to like Chad, though, and vice versa.

We were going to go dancing later, but the time was too early after we finished dinner for heading out to the bars. So we went back to my place for a drink. I wanted to change clothes too, since I didn’t want to go dancing in my nice clothes.

I offered them drinks before I went to change my clothes. Chad followed me into the kitchen to see what kind of juices we had in the refrigerator (he doesn’t drink alcohol).

“He’s a cutie,” Chad said when I asked what he thought of Sean. “He reminds me of Bill”—which is kind of true: they’re different heights, and Sean’s chest is hairy while Bill’s isn’t, but they have the same hair and eye color, similar personalities. “What is it with you dating guys who are so much like Bill?”

“Lay off, Chad. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said. Then: “So ... have you tried to hypnotize Sean yet?”

“Uhm, no,” I said. “Believe it or not, some people don’t try to hypnotize everyone they meet.”

“You know what I mean, Brock,” he said, grinning. “He’s cute, and you’re into hypnosis, so I just thought maybe you had tried it with him.”

“Nope. Maybe I’ll try it with him later but right now ...”

“Oh, come on—he’s got all the signs of an excellent subject. I think he would respond very well to guided visualization techniques.”

“Huh?”

“The ‘picture yourself here, doing this’ type of techniques. I think they would work very nicely for him.”

“Chad, I don’t want you to try to hypnotize him, okay?”

“Okay, you don’t want me to hypnotize him.”

I punched his arm playfully. “You can be such an arrogant prick sometimes.”

“And you love that about me.”

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry, steamy stripling—I’m a top.”

We laughed, and I sent him back out to the living room with the drinks while I went to change clothes.

I decided on a gray wifebeater tee-shirt with a faded oil company logo and a pair of baggy shorts. The shirt would look good when I stripped it off later when we were dancing at the club, and the shorts were a pair Sean thought looked really hot on me. I checked my look in the mirror. Yeah, I’m a hot package, all right.

When I headed back to the living room, some part of me expected to catch Chad trying to hypnotize Sean. But instead, I saw them laughing and talking about video games (Sean’s passion) and just getting to know one another. Whew!

We hit my favorite dance club. Sometimes the doorman gives us hell because Sean is only 20 and looks even younger; but since Sean started growing that chin-scruff I mentioned and with Chad there—he looks around 30 though he’s older than that—the doorman must have thought Sean was older, because he didn’t even card us. Even the bartender served Sean a beer without asking for ID. Then we were all three dancing together, and the DJ was spinning this killer set that included some cheesy Top 40 beefed up into massive dance mixes. We went at it pretty hard-core too, because Sean and I love to dance. Chad is no slouch, but you could tell he doesn’t go dancing as much as Sean or I.

When the time seemed right, out there on the floor, I whipped off my wifebeater and tucked it in the back pocket of my shorts. I have a very nice body—it really shows how I’ve been working out for years—and out of the corners of my eyes I noticed a lot of guys looking at my bare chest. Sean’s eyes were aimed right at my pecs, narrowed like he was trying to memorize every hard line and curve to them. He really likes my chest. I admit I liked the attention.

Some chick spun me around to face her. She was dancing really wild and suggestive, working that “I’m a slut but I’m too hot for you” look. She yelled, “Dance with me!” over the music, so I did. She was pretty and slim and had a really big grin on her face. Her clothes were tight and showed off her nice body. I don’t go for chicks at all sexually, but Sean claims to, so this display was mostly for him. I put my hands in the air, she put hers down, and her butt glided just a hair away from my crotch as we wiggled and ground to the thunderous rhythm. Five or six of her friends, all women, swarmed around us. Our dance was half pantomime sex, and we kept at it for two songs. Her friends were way more conservative and stiff. No wonder she wanted to dance with me. She was pretty good and was really enjoying herself. I enjoyed dancing with her too.

After a while, I looked around and didn’t see Sean or Chad anywhere. I excused myself from the chick and her friends, though they tried to hold on to me and keep me from going, and I went to look for them. I half-expected to find them holed up in some quiet corner or maybe the parking lot with Chad trying to hypnotize Sean. But instead, I found Sean standing near the bar, at the edge of the bodies packed six deep around it. Chad was further inside that crush, taking three drinks from the bartender and passing him money. One drink was for me, and I gulped it gratefully.

Later, after we danced a few more hours, we went back to my place to crash. My roommates are never around much at night on the weekends, since they all have girlfriends, so we had the place to ourselves. I went to the kitchen and got us one last round of drinks for the evening, while we chilled out before bed. This is it, I thought when I carried the drinks back out to the living room, Chad will be trying to hypnotize Sean for sure. But no, they were both sitting right were I left them: Sean slouched shirtless in that chair, and Chad stretched out on the couch where he’d be sleeping tonight once we pulled it out into a bed.

16. July 8

I woke up in bed alone. I was expecting Sean beside me, but he wasn’t there. That disappointed me—I really like to wake up before he does and watch him as he dreams—but his waking up first isn’t too uncommon; he likes to get up early sometimes and play video games. He’ll use the headphones so he can turn the volume up without disturbing me or my roommates.

Sean’s clothes were gone. Most likely he got dressed, since Chad was here, before he headed out to the living room to fire up the TV and the PlayStation. So I climbed out of bed, thinking it was a shame to waste this great morning erection I had. From the floor by the bed, I retrieved the baggy shorts I’d worn the night before and I pulled them on.

The PlayStation and TV were both off. No sign of Sean. No sign of Chad. Something clattered from the kitchen. The sound of someone giggling guiltily and shhhh-ing someone. I imagined Sean and Chad having sex; I pictured Chad backed up against the stove while Sean knelt down and blew him, and then I pictured it the other way around. I was feeling jealous, and I hated that feeling, just hated it. I know I should have trusted Sean, even though we never said we’d be monogamous, had never even discussed monogamy—I didn’t want to repeat the mistakes I’d made with Breck—but I guess I still remembered how Breck had hurt me by blowing Bill on the side. So I shoved open the kitchen door and caught them in the act of—

—fixing breakfast. Oh, they looked surprised and guilty enough, but that didn’t disguise the fact that they were both fully dressed and on opposite sides of the kitchen, Chad trying to be quiet as he whisked a bowl full of eggs for scrambling, and Sean rummaging through the cabinets for pans.

“Hey, babe,” Sean said, heading to kiss me. “Did we wake you?” I was so relieved I felt like kissing him, and did, feeling like I should be apologizing to him instead.

I didn’t let on about how I’d been jealous. I just grinned like an idiot and told Sean he should try one cabinet over if he was looking for the big frying pan.

My roommates weren’t around—none of them had come home the night before, which wasn’t too unusual since they all had girlfriends. Anyway, they weren’t around to raid our feast. Scrambled eggs with bits of tomato and green bell pepper, toast with this terrific sauce Chad made up out of some blueberries Sean found in the refrigerator, turkey bacon—yummy! After we ate—and I mean, we really packed it away—I shooed Sean and Chad out of the kitchen. I didn’t say so, but I was going to make it up to them by cleaning up and taking care of the dishes.

They had really made a mess. I don’t know where Chad learned to cook, but he had single-handed turned the sink into something that looked like the aftermath of a hand grenade. I guess he’d been serious when he said I would need some help. I’d chased them both off, but I made a mental note never to make that mistake again. Sure, I had thought I needed to make it up to them, but I hadn’t been jealous enough to deserve this!

Fifteen minutes later, maybe more, I’ve got the dishwasher loaded and humming—it’s a cranky old beast, and it likes to hum for a while before it actually gets busy with the cleaning cycle—and I’ve done everything short of sandblasting to finally get the sink clean. Who would have thought ordinary blueberries could turn into adhesive sludge so quickly? I’m not one of those anal-retentive types who has to clean obsessively—not by a long shot!—but we had a problem with cockroaches when we first moved in, so we have to take the time to get rid of with anything that might attract them.

Sean and Chad were in the living room. I had heard bits of them talking—well, mostly Chad talking—from time to time, though not loud enough for me to make out what they were talking about. So when I finally finished off the bare minimum required to deal with the post-breakfast debris, I headed out into the living room to join them.

Chad was sitting on the couch. Sean was sitting in the chair, adjoining him. Sean’s game controller sat, ignored, on one thigh where it had partially slipped out of his relaxed hands. Onscreen, the video game was frozen, paused, but Sean didn’t seem to have noticed. His eyelids were drooping, fluttering. His eyes were turned up, like they were trying to roll back in his head; with his eyelids half-closed, I couldn’t see much except the whites.

I knew immediately what Chad had done. He looked over at me when I walked in, gave me a quick grin, but he went back to whispering to Sean while I stared open-mouthed.

“Chad,” I said, “you wake him up right now. You have no right to hypnotize Sean.”

“I was just about to wake him up, matter of fact,” Chad said. “We were just doing a little test, teaching Sean how to enter a hypnotic trance, to help make it easier for you to hypnotize him later. Okay, Sean, as I was saying, I’m going to count—”

I said, “I am not going to hypnotize Sean!”

To me Chad said, “But you’ve thought about it. Admit it, Brock. I’ve just laid the groundwork to help you out.”

“This is so not the place for this. Just wake him up now, or I’ll do it.”

“I’m doing just that. Sean, I’m going to count to ten, and with each number, you’re going to start waking up. You’ll be able to remember as much or as little as you want; I’ll leave that up to you. Ready? Ten ... Take a deep breath and feel the oxygen flood into your body as you start to wake up, gradually, at your own pace.”

I waited until he was finished. Sean blinked and yawned and fumbled for his forgotten controller. He grinned at me and said, “Whassup?"—like nothing had just happened—as he started the game again.

“Chad, could I talk to you a second?” I stomped off into the bedroom, with Chad following me.

We kept our voices low. My opening salvo was, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing out there?”

Chad said he didn’t see anything wrong with trying a little induction exercise with Sean. He’d only taken him into a light trance and given him some “helpful” suggestions that would allow him to go into a trance easier each time. “Teaching” Sean to enter a trance, he called it. “In fact,” he said, “we should probably test it several times throughout the day. Each time, it will get easier for him.”

“Chad, we—you—are not going to hypnotize Sean. I don’t mind when you hypnotize me sometimes—I admit I’m into it—but Sean is totally different. He doesn’t even know I’m into hypnosis. And I’m not about to hypnotize him.”

Chad shrugged. He didn’t seem to think he’d done anything wrong. I swear, he’s a really good friend of mine, but sometimes he seems just so fucking amoral! Not immoral, but amoral, as though issues like permission and consent and what other people want just don’t matter.

Anyway, he swore he didn’t do anything except induce a light trance and work with Sean for a couple of minutes to help him be able to go back into the trance state when he heard a trigger phrase. I told Chad I didn’t even want to know the trigger—I figured if Sean didn’t hear the trigger, everything would be fine.

So anyway, we’re in Chad’s rental car, driving through Atlanta on our way to Tower Records. Chad’s driving and I’m in the passenger seat. Sean is sprawled out in the back seat. We’ve got the radio tuned to Album 88, which all three of us usually like, though right then they were playing a set of some kind of reggae crap that we all hated. So we’ve got the radio turned down low.

We’re slowing as the cars ahead pause around a cluster of traffic lights. Chad looked in the rearview mirror and said, “Hey, Sean, would you like to ... enjoy a trance?”

I knew by the way he paused and stressed the words. I whipped my head around. Sean’s eyelids were already sagging, his eyes trying to roll up.

“Chad,” I hissed, “stop it. Wake him up right now, or I will.”

Chad’s satisfied grin faded a little and he sighed. “Brock, sometimes you’re just no fun. Just wait a couple of minutes, and he’ll wake up on his own. It’s best if you let him wake up on his own.”

I considered. Chad was the expert—maybe I should? “Okay,” I said, “but don’t hypnotize him anymore. Promise.”

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to make it easier for you,” Chad said.

Neither of us said anything. After a couple of minutes, Sean yawned and looked around at the shops we were passing, like he hadn’t noticed anything different.

Later, in the theatre, the Tara, where we were sitting through the previews before some quirky independent movie, with Chad in the middle, he leaned over and said, “Sean, why don’t you enjoy a trance” just a little too loudly and I elbowed Chad in the ribs. He protested in a stage whisper, “Ow! Okay, okay. He’ll bring himself out of it in a couple of minutes.”

Later, in the restaurant where we were waiting for our dinners, Chad just turned to Sean and said, “I know you’d like to enjoy a trance”—as if I wasn’t even there. I guess the thought of hypnotizing Sean was kind of sexy, but I’d been through this before, sort of, with Breck and the last thing I wanted was a repeat of that. So I cleared my throat and glared at Chad until he held up his hands like he was surrendering.

Later, after we’d hit a few clubs and had a few drinks and danced like there was no tomorrow and flirted and come back to my place and collapsed, after we all had another drink just because we wanted one—beer for Sean and I, water for Chad because he doesn’t drink—after all that, we were talking and joking and having a great time.

We’d all had a blast, and I was feeling a strong buzz from the alcohol. Quiet music from the CD player. I was settled back on the couch beside Sean. I was feeling all relaxed and just enjoying the way my body feels as I chill out after dancing all night. Sean was kind of peaceful at first, and I think he was maybe a little drunk. He was feeling more and more upbeat, and as our chill-out went on, he started teasing me and poking me, and I started teasing and poking back. It was just starting but it was a groove we get into sometimes, an escalating tease-fest that some of our friends call “The Brock and Sean Show.” It always ends the same way—with us wrestling and scuffling playfully on the floor. Like I said, Sean and I are both wrestlers, and we love it. It’s almost like foreplay for us sometimes.

Chad said something, but I didn’t catch it. Actually, he’d been saying a lot of things I hadn’t caught. I was busy pushing Sean’s arm, making him nearly slosh himself with his beer, and he was pushing me back, and we were giggling like three-year-olds, like every time we get in this mood. Sean stashed his beer on the end table so he wouldn’t spill it as he poked at me. Chad said something else but I didn’t pay attention. I was grabbing for Sean’s shoulders, and he was pushing me back, and we were tumbling off the couch and into the floor. The Brock and Sean Show was in full swing.

Sean and I rolled over and over a couple of times in the open carpet in the middle of the room. I knew Chad was watching us—I caught a glimpse of him watching us and smiling like he was a parent indulging a couple of kids—and I always like having an audience. Sean and I were grappling—half of it jockeying for position, and half just grooving on the feel of our bodies pressed together.

We’re just having fun, but there’s always part of this that’s a serious contest. I’m bigger than Sean, and stronger, though he’s packed with muscle too, and frankly I’m the better wrestler; and because of all that, he always has to be quick and aggressive, as if deep down he thinks he has something to prove. He pushed around me. I was nearly face-down, nearly in a defensive mat position, and he was sliding around me, across my back, trying to get a body lock on me for a gut wrench. I dropped closer to the carpet to keep him from locking his hands around my torso. He hooked his hand on my shoulder to try to lift my chest up enough to complete the lock. He was going for a high gut wrench. No problem. I saw this coming and managed to break out and slip away before he could secure his lock. We were just getting warmed up.

We circled each other in the small central space. I went on the attack with a two-on-one armlock. It’s a grip that looks sort of like I’m trying to shake hands with him, and it’s used to pull an opponent close enough so you can attack his body or shoulder. Sean tucked his elbow close to his ribs and tried to counter by grabbing my elbow, going for a two-on-one of his own. I feigned an attack at his shoulder, and he pulled away. I circled around his center of gravity to keep control of his arm. Since he’s shorter, he has an advantage sometimes on keeping his center of gravity low—an advantage on leverage too in some situations. This wasn’t one of those situations. He tried to force my arm down, and I pulled, making him extend his arm. In a heartbeat, I was after an armlock on him, with my back turned toward him and his right arm stretched over my right shoulder. I dropped to my knees for a flying mare throw, which is a swift move where I bend forward quickly and touc! h my forehead to the carpet while throwing him up and over my shoulder. Sean kept rolling—to evade the lunge I was making for his arm as the first step to a half-nelson.

He rolled out of reach and crouched on his knees. We were both panting. I was expecting him to come at me while I was down. Instead, he looked over at Chad for a second. Sean took hold of the bottom of his tee-shirt. He lifted, crossing his arms as he pulled his tee-shirt up and off of his body. He dropped it, chest heaving in more oxygen. Sean has a great body—very muscular pectorals and arms, tight stomach, perfectly proportioned V-shaped deltoids. Muscular and sleek without being overbuilt. His chest is hairy, and I liked looking at it. Like I said, a lot of this was like foreplay for us.

But a lot was serious stuff too. I ignored the vacant look around his eyes and went for an arm attack. I was trying for an armlock hip throw—risky since his center of gravity was lower than mine. In that maneuver, I would try to pull him up and toward me, trying to get my center of gravity under his so I could use my hip to lever him off the floor and throw him. Sean ducked to the side, snatching at me. No, not at me—at my tee-shirt, which he held on to, tugging at it. It bunched under my shoulders. He was trying to use it to limit my range of motion. I lifted my hands and dropped, slipping out of my shirt and out of his grip. I have a great chest too, a little more muscular than his, and perfectly smooth and hairless. He was looking at me, and I knew Chad was too, so I flexed my arms a little for show.

Chad said something else. I wasn’t paying a bit of attention to what he was saying. He said something, a key phrase that suddenly made me feel really focused—very relaxed and intensely focused. His words washed into me; I felt the key phrases sink into my head and then slip away before my mind could grasp them. There was nothing in what he was saying that should distract me, nothing at all. I ignored that fuzzy feeling that was coming over me. Too much beer, maybe. I was focused on Sean.

Sean came at me. No technique—just slamming his body into mine and driving me back onto the carpet. This wasn’t wrestling anymore—this was just the two of us working and straining our bodies against each other. Muscle against muscle. Skin on skin. I started getting hard. Yeah, I can usually keep my cock under control when I’m wrestling by keeping my mind on winning, but my thoughts were getting less and less important, and besides, what Sean and I were doing now was a lot more erotic than wrestling on a mat. If we had been alone, this is where we would had started tugging at each other’s clothes, maybe gotten naked—but I think we were both still sort of peripherally aware of Chad watching us.

Instead, all I did was kick off my shoes, and Sean did the same. Now, with both of us squirming and writhing on the floor, our contest had no formal holds and our strategies were much more instinctive. We rolled, each trying to get the dominant position. Front to front, arms gripping and pushing and tugging, legs tangled, hips pressing hard-on alongside hard-on through our pants.

Chad said a few words—but frankly, who cares? Not me, not right then. Everything touching my skin felt amplified, intensified: the carpet, my shorts, the stir of air, Sean’s hands touching me now. I let Sean roll me onto my back. He lay on top of me, arms stretched over his head to hold my arms down. He was looking me right in the eyes, his own half-closed and dreamy. He slid his chest against mine, scratching me with his hair. My nipples stood up and took notice as he scrubbed his chest roughly over them in turn. He kept one hand pinning my arms overhead—though I could have broken free easily. His other hand slipped between us. He popped the button on my shorts, worked the zipper down. I never wear underwear, so his fingers found my rigid prick easily. He teased his fingertips along my length, then connected more tightly to stroke the shaft gently but firmly. He shifted and unbuttoned his own shorts, unzipped, worked his shorts and briefs down to mid-thigh. S! ean kept his eyes locked on mine—a different kind of wrestling—and he glided his body up and down, grinding our cocks alongside each other between our groins. The roughness of his pubes provoked my cock deliciously.

I was feeling very relaxed—a feeling that I seemed to recognize. Chad was saying a few words now and then, and I just let them wash past me. I knew he was watching and it turned me on even more to perform for him.

Sean pulled away. I lay there, watching him. Sean looked over at Chad. Chad said something to Sean, a key phrase, and then he said something to me, something that helped me feel even more relaxed and focused, then something to Sean again, and something to me again. Sean shucked his shorts and briefs and socks. He rotated his hips toward my head, his head descending into my crotch. His naked body settled alongside me, hips turned toward me. I reached for his cock and guided it into my mouth, even as he was burying mine in his mouth.

His mouth was wet, inviting. As he sucked me, I moaned, letting the vibrations tingle through his cock, which felt achingly stiff in my mouth. I lapped at his balls, sucked them one at a time into my mouth, then returned to his dick. Sean was groaning now too, sounds that I felt ripple from his mouth into my cock. His body was stiffening, arching. He was about to cum, and I stepped up the tempo, sucking with real gusto. My mouth said “I love you” to his body in a more primal way than words can convey. His body responded with an eruption—of pleasure through every nerve of his body, of his cum into my mouth.

I continued to suckle it gently until his body relaxed and he pulled his nearly flaccid cock out of my mouth and away from my tongue. He returned to sucking me after the interruption of his orgasm. My balls were alive with pleasure, practically two burning orbs in my scrotum. I was growling and whimpering and pleading. “That feels so fine ... So fine ... Don’t stop ... So sweet ... Sooo ...” As my orgasm began, my voice cracked into gasps.

Sean didn’t stop. He continued to suck me as I erupted. I pushed my cock deep into his mouth just in time to shoot the first bolt of my jism, and I held it there as my balls emptied themselves in convulsive spurts. I whimpered weakly and sank back into the carpet, so relaxed and sleepy now that I nearly passed out.

Chad said a few words more. It was time for bed. My body rose somehow, almost of its own accord. Sean stood up too. We shuffled into my bedroom and fell into my bed, into each other’s arms, into sleep, into that pleasant blankness that I’ve come to know so well.

17. July 9

Chad was gone when I woke up. Sean was still slumbering. I had to pee, so I climbed out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. That’s how I knew Chad was gone.

He had an early plane home, and Sean and I had overslept. Chad had left without waking up, but he left a folded note taped to my bedroom door. It read, “By now, you’ve seen me do it enough that you can do it too. When you’re ready, try it. The groundwork has been laid.”

Sean. He was talking about Sean. Me hypnotizing Sean.

I crawled back into bed. Sean was still asleep on his back. His eyes danced under his closed lids as he dreamed. I slid my body up alongside his. He looks so adorable when he sleeps, a dark-haired angel. He stirred and his eyelids fluttered and opened. His mouth curled open in a yawl.

“Morning,” I said, bending in toward him.

“M’rrrn’ng,” he mumbled, returning my kiss.

“So how much do you remember? About last night, I mean?”

He looked confused for just a moment, remembering. “A lot, I think? Nearly everything?”

“So you know that Chad ...”

“Hypnotized me? Yeah.” Sean stretched and yawned again. “He kept telling me for the last two days he was gonna do it. I guess he did.”

I remembered Chad telling me that one of the times when a person is most receptive to being hypnotized is when he expects to be hypnotized.

“And you’re all right with that? You were willing to have that happen to you?”

“I guess so. I guess, like, I was not un-willing. Uhm, I mean, it’s not like he could make me do anything I didn’t want to do, right? You can’t be made to do anything under hypnosis that you really don’t want to do, right?”

That depends, I thought, on whether he can change your mind about whether you want it or not. But what I said was, “Uh, right.”

Sean tucked his hands behind his head on the pillow. “Every time you were out of the room, he’d say something like, ‘I’m going to hypnotize you soon—you know that, don’t you?’ Or he’d say, ‘I’m going to hypnotize you soon, and there’s nothing you can do to prevent it.’ I was always like, ‘Whatever, dude, I don’t think I can be hypnotized.’ but I guess he did it after all.” He was grinning up at the ceiling.

“Yeah?” I said.

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to hypnotize you,” I said. “You know that, don’t you?”

He looked at me, grinned—“Oh, fuck you, Brock!"—and gave me a playful push.

“No, it’s true. I’m going to hypnotize you, Sean, and you won’t be able to stop me.”

He laughed and shook his head and climbed out of bed. “Whatever, Brock.” I admired his naked body as he stretched—his back and that fine, compact ass pointing right at me—and then he followed the remains of his morning hard-on into the bathroom to pee.

“You don’t believe I can, but I will.” This I said leaning against the bathroom doorframe, watching him shake the last drops of piss off the end of his cock.

“Sorry—not gonna happen, Brock.”

I reached over and turned on the shower, cranked the knobs to about the usual settings. When Sean tried to walk past me, I grabbed him and pulled him to me and kissed him. My hands held his biceps and triceps. His hands fell naturally onto my hips. My naked body pressed up against his, and I felt both of us beginning to stir sexually. I tested the water temperature with one hand, held on to him with my other. We’ve had sex in the shower several times—one of my favorite places—so he knew what to expect, which made his cock zoom up, missile-ready.

I stepped in, pulled him in after me. “I’m gonna hypnotize you,” I said as I pushed him into the spray and eased myself alongside him. “You know it’s gonna happen.”

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me, Brock,” he said, and we let our tongues play together as the water crashed into our heads.

I pushed him back against the shower stall wall, using my hand in the center of his chest to hold him there. By now, we were both fully hard. “I’m going to hypnotize you,” I murmured, barely louder than the water. I looked him directly in the eye, and he looked me right back. “And you’re going to let me, aren’t you, baby? You may think you want to resist, but deep down you know you won’t. I’m going to hypnotize you. I bet you still remember how it felt. Right? Kind of like you’re starting to feel now.”

He put his hand on my wrist, said, “Cut it out, Brock.” But he didn’t push my hand away.

“Shhhh—it’s okay, baby. I’m right here. I’m going to hypnotize you now. You can already feel it happening. Like the way you take a deep breath”—I took one, and he followed along, still looking me right in the eye—“and let it out. Hooooo ... See how easy? It’s so easy to just relax and enjoy a trance.”

When I said his key phrase, Sean blinked. His eyelids fluttered.

“That’s it. Just relax, Sean, and let yourself enjoy a trance.”

He blinked when I said his key phrase. His eyelids drooped a little, and his eyes started to unfocus.

“That’s right, Sean. Relax and let yourself go back into that pleasant state of hypnosis you enjoy so much. Take a deep breath. Hold it—that’s the way—and let it out ... Relax and enjoy a trance.”

Sean’s mouth moved; he was trying to say something.

“Shhhh,” I said. “There’s nothing you have to say, Sean. All you have to do is enjoy a trance.”

I was about to start an exercise to deepen Sean’s trance—he was only lightly under, at best—but his mouth kept moving, like he had something really important he had to say.

“What is it, baby?” I asked him, thinking he was trying to protest. “What do you have to say?”

Sean’s mouth moved, and he said—he said—he said the key word Chad had used to help me re-enter the trance state, and I felt the word wrap around and muffle my thoughts like a blanket.

“Chad said ...” Sean said, fighting against the light stupor his own key word had induced in him, “... he said ... to say ...,” and then he said the key word again.

I was getting lost in a very light trance state. Familiar. Some part of me wanted more.

Sean’s own induction was starting to wear off—he was coming out of it. Sean had his hands on my shoulders, pressing me down. “On your knees,” he murmured, and I knelt on the hard porcelain. His hard-on pointed upward, looking me right in the eye as Sean directed my attention to it and told me to suck it, which I started to do willingly. He had one hand on my scalp, his other behind his ass, probably working a finger into his asshole, which he loves while getting sucked.

Sean must not have known anything about deepening the trance, because he didn’t do it. Instead, he left me just barely under the influence of the key phrase. He mumbled suggestions for what he wanted me to do to his cock with my mouth, where to lick, when to suck or tease it, stroking my head with a cadenced hand. Since he didn’t deepen the trance, I’m not sure I was really hypnotized. He used the keyword just often enough to keep me in that warm, relaxed state where hypnosis starts, a place where I still felt obliged to follow his instructions. He kept telling me how attractive I was, how much he loved me, how much he loved what I was doing to him, and breathlessly, “ooooh, yeah, dude, you do that just right.” I felt an incredible trust between us, felt incredibly connected to him. The key word kept this comfortable state refreshed. I was willing and ready to do exactly what he wanted, which I would have done anyway.

He didn’t let me suck on him very long. He turned off the water and told me to stand up, step out. He patted both of us dry with a towel, using the key word just often enough to keep me from snapping out of this light trance.

Sean told me to follow him to the bed. He lay down on his back, knees up and angled. Sean and I both love to fuck and get fucked—we’re both versatile and we swap topping and bottoming about equally. Right then, Sean definitely wanted to get fucked. He handed me the lube and told me to work some into his ass, get him warmed up. His cock was still hard, but I ignored it and dripped the lubricant onto my fingers and his hole. He was using the key work just often enough to keep me receptive and focused on what he told me to do.

I pushed a gooey finger into his slick opening. Sean moaned. I worked him with one finger. His ass started to relax, instinctively. After a minute, I eased in another finger. He handed me a condom packet, told me to put it on. Just as I was registering what he handed me, Sean started moving against me, fucking himself on my fingers.

I pulled out my fingers, pulled on the condom, positioned myself, and started pushing into him with something longer and more substantial, covered with the slick lube.

Sean let out an honest, “Ooooh, fuck!” as I began to fill him, vacate and fill, vacate and fill, plunge into, dive into, thrust into hard and fast, then not at all, the whole of my cock buried all the way inside, then withdrawn slowly, all the way, then stabbed back in. He wasn’t using the key word anymore; all Sean could say was, Oh, yeah—fuck me!” as my body started the hard fucking all over again, broken only by occasional pauses and several fresh stabs that start at his sphincter and terminate all the way deep inside the core of him.

Sean loves to get fucked, and he was jacking himself off while I worked at his ass. “I’m gonna cum,” he whispered.

“Yeah, man,” I whispered back, not caring whether this told him I was fully back in the moment. “Come for me, Sean.”

He squeezed and stroked at his cock, lost in the pounding that rushed through him to his ears. “Oh, yeah—fuck me harder,” he panted, and his semen began jetting out of his cock, as his body spasmed and thrashed on the bed.

I picked up my pace. As it started to happen for me, I pulled back, pulled out of him, then pressed myself forward, my weight forcing ardorously down on Sean. Sean held our mass barely balanced as I tugged off the condom, tugged at my fiery cock, began my ecstatic orgasm. My cum spurted out all over his thighs and stomach, some of it mingling with Sean’s spent load. I fell forward to kiss him as my cock emptied out into some mystery, our limbs knotting into a mobius strip, Sean feeling infinite, me feeling infinite too.