The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I’ve broken up with Shawn now, as you probably figured out. We had a huge argument and that was that. I can’t stand living with conflict, which is probably one of the reasons I’ve been so alone for most of my life. Yeah, I miss him. Yeah, we’re in touch occasionally. I’m too grown up to follow through with the temptation to hook up with him again. Too much not in common. Too much related to my physical attraction. Too much about, “Is he really gay?” Will spare you the rest of the details.

Then the other night I got a call from long-lost Jason. The “thing” with Joey had not worked out. Surprise, surprise. I asked Jason over to dinner. “Joey turned out to be a real dick. He went right back into drugs. He tried to get me involved in selling. The dumb ass tried to hypnotize me again. I know what’s going on at my age. I told him he was full of shit. He’s back in jail now.” I hated seeing this kind of conflict in a young man whom, well let’s face it, I loved. It reminded me painfully of what I had gone through in my life. But what could I do? Even if we weren’t way past that stage, I can’t hypnotize someone into happiness.

Jason had this idea. “You know, you’ve given me so much experience with hypnosis on both ends, I’ve been thinking about becoming a stage hypnotist. In addition to the hands on experience, I’ve read every book on the subject, you know.” Yes, I knew this. I also knew that stage hypnosis was hard work, it was hard to find gigs, and the general rumor was that there were too many hypnotists. (I’ve never been able to figure this out, because in the highly urban area where I live I can NEVER find a hypnotist show. So where is all this oversupply of talented hypnotists?)

Then I remembered that Jason was only slightly in front of the end of his first year in college. “Guy, you’ve got to think about completing your formal education. Also, have you ever seen or heard of a stage hypnotist who was under 20?” “No, I guess not. But it’s something I really want to do.” Now remember, he was studying drama, and most of stage hypnosis is showmanship, which is why many stage hypnotists suck. I knew Jason could be good at it, but since he was implicitly seeking my advice, I had to be realistic. “Finish at least one more year of school before you try to pursue it. And let’s talk about it again.” He agreed. Then this gorgeous hunk, tan from the summer, whom I absolutely adored and could reasonably covet because he was gay, went home sine die (sorry, a legal term meaning I didn’t know when the hell I’d see him again).

I can’t say we shared a smoke before he left because he quit before, as I have told you, and I finally decided that I had to make the proper concession to health and practical considerations. Smoking myself had never been very important. After I was hypnotized into doing it, I loved it because it gave me a sense of fellowship with the young guys who drove me crazy when I watched them smoke. The fact that I could occasionally share from the same pack with young guys was wildly erotic to me. I still couldn’t help myself when I caught an accidental “sighting.” But I couldn’t visit people and have them smell smoke on me, I couldn’t have people smell smoke in my car. The people who knew me in my daily life as opposed to my double life would never understand. Time to make a concession to practicality. Anyway, it was kind of fun sharing with Jason the idea of a totally healthy life style. It’s all or nothing that way, you know. We both worked out, were the right weight, didn’t abuse anything, at least tried to keep our stress under control. Hell, did I say “sharing with Jason?” Oh, boy, where was I going here?

The plain fact of the matter was that I was trying to maximize my physical attractiveness and condition to impress, well, Jason. I realize that this is irrational. Young guys take an interest in older guys, what, once every hundred years? There was Walt Whitman’s young friend, Byron was totally frustrated in his young “lover,” and can you even remember other possibilities? Oscar Wilde doesn’t count. He was too weird and the younger guy wasn’t much younger and no great shakes. But by taking care of my looks, I was feeling better about myself, which was a side benefit, and who ever said we were supposed to be totally rational creatures?

But sometimes love stares us in the face and we refuse to see it. Jason and I had a few encounters over the next year. No seduction, no subtlety. I just knew at one point that one of us had to make the move, and if he said “no,” I’d just have to go home and cry in my beer. But he said “yes.” And this time, the loving was unequivocal. We were a great match.

Now I suppose you’re wondering where the hypnotic eroticism comes in. Never fear, gentle reader, I’m getting there. Remember Jason’s ambition. He was so enthusiastic about it, so thoroughly prepared, that he was determined to get started after his second year of college. I volunteered to be his manager—a side job that would not interfere with my main career, not that this was anything to write home about.

We got gigs. They were sporadic. I hated it when he had to fly away and I couldn’t accompany him. He made less money than I did, which didn’t make any difference since our combined income was satisfactory. He grew a beard and touched up all his hair with a little gray. I hated that but understood it made him a stage presence. Above all, he was sensational. From the first show he put on great performances. He did all the standard routines mainly because there are no un-standard routines.

Then we were doing a local gig and who starts walking to the stage? Joey. This won’t do. I walk into the aisle and stop him and get a big “Paul! You here too?” He’s not sober. “Joey,” I say softly, “you can’t go on stage. People under the influence make horrible subjects. Besides, I doubt Jason wants to deal with you tonight.” “Hey man, I paid my money too, I’m gonna go up there.” Now these ordinary halls don’t have security, and it wouldn’t look good to call the police, and I didn’t want to play the role of a bouncer. Time to think fast again. “Ok, ok, go up, but sit on the end seat. I’ll be in the wing, and if I say anything, no matter what Jason says, just give me your attention.” “Wha?” So I personally escorted Joey to the end seat stage right.

Guess who was sitting on the end seat stage left? That’s right, Billy, whom I hadn’t seen in years. This was a family affair. I looked from the wing at Jason and, as talented and already experienced as he was, he was a mask of terror. We had to delay the start of the show. “Paul, what are we going to do?” “I don’t know, honey, I don’t know, let me think a minute. Does Billy appear sober to you?” “I think he is.” “There’s no way Joey is going under in his condition. Do you think Billy is serious about being hypnotized by you?” “No way we can know unless we try.” “Start your act. I’ll pull Joey out of here physically and call the cops if I have to.”

Joey had come there to be a heckler. No way he was going to fall under. I thought about dragging him into the wings and just using my voice, which had worked so well in the past, but I just knew it wouldn’t work now. But Billy had fallen deeply under. So before Joey ruined the show (he had created a few laughs), I signalled Jason and made signs to switch Billy around. Hypnotists routinely reseat subjects. So by a subterfuge, Billy was sitting next to his brother, who in his drunken state thought this was a scream. So I just pulled Joey into the wing and Billy got some suggestion, I can’t remember the details, like “Napoleon is waiting in the wing for you; you will take all his commands.” “Billy, you are ready to accept all my suggestions, aren’t you?” “Yes.” “And you know who I really am, don’t you?” “Yes, you’re Paul.”

“Billy, your brother is a complete shit-ass.” “I know that.” “There’s only one way to punish him for tonight and make sure he never behaves this way again. Do you know what that is?” “No.” “Use your imagination. Think of a punishment.” “We could gang-bang him.” “That may be impractical. What would be an abbreviated version?” “I could give him a real rough ride myself.” “That sounds more realistic. We’re going to go to the green room now and you’re going to do just what you had in mind.” “What’s going on here?” said an ever more inebriated Joey. He must have taken a real load of shit before coming to the show. Billy said, “Never mind, crap-ass, come with me.” Billy and Joey had become more equalized in age, but Billy was much bigger and stronger than his brother. In fact, he looked like a real body-builder. I wanted to flatter myself that this was a leftover of my years-ago suggestions. So Billy practically dragged Joey off, except I had forgotten they didn’t know where to go. So I led them to the green room, where I stood as guard just inside the door. Then I took out the condom which thank God I had put in my wallet. Billy put it on and whanged his brother mercilessly. Had to close that green room door.

Billy, not me: “You piece of shit, if you ever want to behave decently again I’ll call you my brother. But if you ever mess around with Paul and Jason again, I won’t just fuck you, I’ll knock your intestines up to your brains.” Lots of “Stop, stop!” and that kind of thing that you can hear when people are being, shall we say, punished. Then it was over, and Billy and I shook hands, and we looked at our quivering penitent, and I had a feeling of having defended my great lover whom I had so long deserved—and I had a thought that Billy and Shawn might make great friends.

Jason was sitting on one of the subjects’ chairs, his back to me. He took a long pull on a cigarette he must have bummed from someone. Well, it was never my idea for him to quit, and since he had started before he even knew me (I supposed he was 13 or something), it must have been harder for him to quite than for me, who started under hypnotic suggestion when I was 30-something. He was still one hot smoker.

“Give me a drag” I said, not because I wanted to start again, but because it’s the only way I can tolerate being close to it. Then I put my arm around him and soft-kissed his face a few times. “I guess you got through the show all right?” “Yeah. What happened back there?” “Can I tell you later? It’s not something I’m too proud of.” “OK.” This was one unhappy young man. Seeing Billy and Joey again at one sitting had really rattled him. “I’ve got to get rid of this,” meaning the cigarette, a hard thing to do indoors these days. He found a trash can and stubbed it out on the inside and threw it in. I was staring at him in sympathy when I was totally startled by a voice from behind. “What do you guys want me to do now?” It was Billy! Good grief, I had assumed he and Joey would just pack up and go home. Then I remembered that no one had undone his induction. People left to themselves generally just come out of it slowly or quickly. Apparently with Billy it was going to be slowly.

“Where is Joey?” “He got a ride home with someone else. I figured I could bum a ride from you guys.” Oh great, I thought, he lives about 25 miles out of the way. “So what do you want me to do?” He seemed a little obsessed with this idea. It might be something submissive in his nature, or some memory of hypnotic experience where one was constantly receiving suggestions. And since he addressed us in the plural, it was apparent that after Jason’s suggestion he considered this a joint induction. If you’ve been reading my stories, you know I’m pretty good at thinking on my feet. I led him to a chair and asked him to sit down. Not knowing exactly what state he was in, I made just a few suggestions of relaxation and going way down deep. “Billy, the first thing I want you to do is forget everything I made you do tonight. You love your brother and would never do anything to hurt him.” “My brother is about to go back to jail.” Curiously non-responsive.

“My next suggestion is that you will accept an invitation to join me and Jason for dinner next Friday. While you are with us you will invite one or the other of us to hypnotize you again. You will think of some problem in your life that you hope this will solve.” No response, as there should not have been. Then I brought him out of it, we all got in the car, I issued and he accepted the invite, we took him to his place, and then Jason and I went home.

Jason and I were so exhausted when we got home that we went right to bed. He fell asleep immediately (young people can do that) while I fidgeted most of the night. In the morning I faced the inevitable question from Jason about the previous night. I told him. He was thoughtful but said nothing for a few seconds. “What was that business about inviting Billy over on Friday?” “Well, it’s a little crazy, but I had this idea to hook him up with Shawn. I’m not exactly sure what’s going on in my head here, but I just think it would be good for both of them.” “So how does hypnosis fit in?” “Shawn is like Joey was years ago. He’ll go under if he hears me hypnotizing someone else. And Billy’s under suggestions to let me hypnotize him. At least that’s the plan.” “You know you can’t hypnotize them into being lovers.” “Yes, but you know that I’ve had fair success as a matchmaker over the years.”

We finished our morning conversation by agreeing that Jason’s facial hair and gray tint had to go. I had missed a lot of his life, and wasn’t about to endure the visual insult that I had missed another ten years. The idea was that we would use a fake beard and stage make-up. Hell, I could make him look as old as I was. “Do you know how to do that?” “I know how to read a book and shop at a professional make-up store. I’ll have it figured out before your next show.” So he went and shaved his beard and buzzed his sandy hair real close, and when he came out he was the vision of loveliness I adored. We made love.

Friday came and Billy came as “requested.” I also arranged for Shawn to be there. We were still on friendly terms. They were both a little confused as to what is going on. Billy took me aside after dinner and said, “Paul, I don’t have complete amnesia here, and I know you want to hypnotize me tonight, but I’m not sure why.” “For the reason I gave you.” “What problem is it exactly that I’m supposed to have?” “Billy, you trust me, don’t you?” “Always, but...” “Look, look, you tell me the problem.” “Well, I haven’t been making it with chicks the way I like.” “OK, we’ll work on your love life.”

Let’s recap. Shawn was now 23, Billy 21 almost 22 (Jason, by the way, was still 20 almost 21). They had an awful lot in common. They both had (yuck) tattoos, liked to play around with facial hair, had basically working class mentalities, though Billy had some college. They both smoked (curiously, they both continued with the brand I had suggested years ago, Marlboro lights). They were not into getting into trouble, had continual girlfriend problems, and were both somewhat sexually aggressive. Billy was quite a bit bigger and stronger. A natural match, right? We’d find out.

“Billy, you know the drill.” “I don’t need much in the way of words.” “I know that, but just listen, and remember you have the option of rejecting any suggestion that you just don’t like.” “OK Paul” he said drowsily. God, this won’t work, if he goes under instantly I won’t get Shawn under. “Billy, I want you to listen to an entire induction. Even if you’re already under, I want you to put up with an induction just so we can be sure. Raise your right hand if that’s ok.” Right hand goes up.

So I do the whole induction, and sure enough, Shawn is so deeply under, an atomic explosion wouldn’t bring him out of it. Jason, the real expert now, gave me a look of frank admiration. Well, I had a plan, so might as well go into it.

“Wait a minute,” said Jason, “can I try this one? It might be a lot of fun.” Well, Jason had my complete confidence, and it would be good to let someone else do the work for once. “Billy and Shawn, I’m going to hand this over to Jason. This is now Jason’s session. You will give him your full trust and accept his suggestions as you would mine.”

From force of habit, Jason took on his stage persona, which was unnecessary. There was nobody here to entertain. So you have to imagine this sequence of suggestions as being real upbeat, with exaggerated inflection, and delivered very fast. “Billy and Shawn, you are firmly aware that you are both bisexual; you’ve both had relations with both guys and girls. Now you are aware that you are incredibly attracted to each other. Making love to each other is the most important thing in the world. Also, you love having an audience. When you awake in a few seconds, you will be dying to make the hottest love in front of Paul and me.” Quick interruption, me whispering in Jason’s ear: “Elltay them to use-yay the ondoms-cay.” “Oh yes, you will use the protection—the condoms—that you see on the table before you engage in any fucking.” Then he brought them out of it.

Whew. Talk about the direct approach. No consolation prize like “If you do this you will have a wonderful love life with your next girlfriend.” Just “you want the sex.” OK Jason, hope you know what you’re doing.

A series of complicated suggestions can often result in the need for prompting when the subject awakes. Jason was real subtle. “Billy, show Shawn how you feel. Shawn, give him back as good as he gets.” Well, they did know how to make love to a guy. The kissing was like, tongues all the way down the throat. They ripped their clothes off so fast that one of the t-shirts was torn. Then, startlingly, Billy turned to me and said “You like what we’re doing, Paul?” It was that slightly submissive side plus the suggestion that he would like an audience. “Just keep it up and don’t worry about Jason and me.” “Jason and me,” by the way, were having our own little fun. Not as hot as Billy and Shawn, and you can’t watch and do everything you’d normally do at the same time, but, well, you’ve all watched porn movies with a friend.

They went into the 69 thing real fast (can’t figure out how guys who didn’t learn that from me just come about it naturally). I could swear that Billy partly came in Shawn’s mouth (not part of the plan), but it didn’t cause him to lose his hard-on or his overall enthusiasm. Now the big question, of course. Billy was bigger and more aggressive, but had this submissive side. Shawn was slightly on the aggressive side but a plain vanilla love-maker. Could they make the arrangement without our intervention? They sort of stood there, knowing it was time, and in the end it was Billy who wanted it up the ass. So Shawn put on his little rubber hat, and in a standing position banged Billy like the best in the flicks. Either Billy was anesthetized from the hypnosis, or he was experienced beyond what I was aware. He fucking loved it! Shawn came inside him, but Billy was unsatisfied. So they changed places! But Shawn didn’t have a grown-up ass. He gave a little sign of pain, and I thought I was going to have to intervene, but Billy said, “It’s ok man, I’ll do slow and gentle if that’s what you need.” I forgot that Billy was basically a caring person. He wasn’t going to hurt anyone just because he was getting carried away. The other night, he must have known that Joey was experienced. So he worked Shawn’s ass as slow as was reasonable. Fingers, dick, fingers, dick. Shawn learned quickly. Billy got it up there and then did some gentle fucking until he was exhausted. He still hadn’t finished himself (it may have been that problem with the partial orgasm in Shawn’s mouth). So he and Shawn sat back and Billy jacked off at warp speed until he produced a really nice load.

Jason hadn’t given them any suggestions about a continuing relationship, which is sort of what I had in mind. Billy and Shawn left a little bemused, giggling, not sure what to make of the evening. They’d probably go home and dream about some whore. Pity people can’t tell when they’re well off.