The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The recently graduated University friends, six guys and two girls, variously aged 21 to 23, were on a summer long vacation. They were taking this last opportunity for such a lengthy hedonistic summer break before entering the freedom stifling world of work.

They were all single, except for one couple, Adam and Sarah, who had been together throughout University, since meeting at Fresher’s Week, as new members of the student sailing club. It was they who were the qualified sailors, both with their skipper’s license, and their idea to hire a big yacht for the season. Their plan was to pick up the yacht in Athens and sail all summer through the Saronic Islands, and on through the Cyclades, before leaving the boat in September in Rhodes.

The other six friends readily agreed to join this paradise of carefree summer of sun and adventure, with the hedonistic promise of a fleeting lover in every port. Apart from the two skippers, the others were free to come and go to explore as they pleased, as long as they all rendezvoused in Rhodes by September for the flight home.

One had jumped ship early on, to stay on an island for a while with his new Greek girlfriend, after they had got it on in a quayside bar one evening. The other girl on their crew had more recently done the same with a boy she had met. Another of the boys had temporarily joined the crew of a German yacht, also vaguely heading towards Rhodes, to spend more time with a girl on-board, only to return bringing his new German girlfriend along with him, when the two yachts had crossed paths again a few weeks later.

The remaining three boys had all stayed on-board so far, preferring to simply enjoy any one night stands in the harbours they called in at, before moving on with the boat.

Leo was one of those who had stayed on board. He liked the easy rhythm of sailing from place to place, sometime anchoring overnight in a bay to swim, other times tying up in a harbour to enjoy the quayside bars, clubs and girls.

The crew had fallen into a ritual when anchoring. Waiting to check the yacht was holding, before cracking open the beers and diving off the back of the boat to swim. Leo loved the clear Mediterranean waters and could float face down with a mask and snorkel for hours watching the undersea life and fish passing by.

Sometimes he would see crew from other yachts, equipped with flippers, snorkelling around under the water so much more skilfully than his poor efforts. Gradually, as the trip wore on, Leo became more and more obsessed with wanting to learn to snorkel properly.

Their carefree summer was beginning to draw to a close. The yacht was now in the Dodecanese, getting ever nearer to Rhodes.

They had discovered a new favourite anchorage between ports. Panormitis was accessed from a narrow inlet, hard to spot on the coastline without the white stone marker tower erected at the entrance. But once through it opened out into a large sheltered circular bay. There was no village or beach, just a Monastery at one end, connected only by a rough track back to the rest of the Island of Symi. Nonetheless, the stunning bay was popular with sailors, and there were always dozens of yachts at anchor for a quite overnight stop.

It was their third visit as they crisscrossed between ports in the area, today anchoring near a smaller yacht flying the French flag, and Leo was keen to get in and snorkel again.

As he floated and ineptly splashed about, Leo saw two other swimmers snorkelling under the water. He was immediately captivated and jealous of how graceful they were, more like mermen than humans, seemingly hardly ever needing to break surface for air, and skilfully helping each other through the marine environment.

He watched the snorkelers enviously. The two were both older, middle aged men, each with a neat bread and the dark tanned skin of experienced sailors who spent most of their days living on their yacht, along with the toned muscular physique that went with that lifestyle.

Leo lost concentration as he continued to watch the snorkelling masterclass on display beneath him, and his own snorkel dipped under the surface. He spluttered in a panic as the salty water filled his mouth, pulling his head up and blowing the sea water back out of the snorkel as hard as he could. See, this was exactly the kind of shit he needed to learn how to do properly, he thought crossly.

By the time Leo had got his act back together he could see the two men clambering out of the water, back onto the French yacht anchored next to theirs. It seemed too good an opportunity to miss, so Leo paddled over. The Frenchmen spoke a little English, and Leo spoke a little French, which proved just enough to strike up a conversation, and Leo was quickly invited on board.

The two sailors were naked save for a clean white towel wrapped around their waists, having already discarded their wet speedos. Leo took the offered towel and likewise shed his wet trunks.

Their yacht was naturally a fair bit smaller than the big charter Leo’s friends were on, being just the two of them, a three berth. But like most Mediterranean sailors, they appeared to largely live on deck in the warm sunshine, while the darker cabin was used for storage, charts, a cool space to escape the sun when wanted, and for sleeping at night.

The berths themselves, Leo could see, were largely used for storage, while the galley seating was a plethora of duvets and cushions piled up into a kind of big nest for sleeping together. Leo wondered if the two mermen might be gay.

Despite the language barrier, the two French men seemed to quickly pick up that Leo wanted to learn to be like them, to snorkel like them, and soon they were sitting on deck with a beer chatting.

The French beer tasted strong and fruity, helping Leo quickly feel carefree and relaxed in their company. He had so much he wanted to learn from them. By the second bottle, Leo’s head was buzzing nicely. He just wanted to swim and snorkel with his charming new friends.

It all helped break down the communication barrier, and they chatted away into the twilight through a few shared words and universal gesticulations. Leo was picking up their tips and techniques for better snorkelling. It was important to help each other out, and most crucial to use the snorkel in your mouth correctly. Panicking and surfacing to blow, as he had so recently demonstrated, was simply not the professionally done thing.

By the third beer, Leo was feeling decidedly spaced. So much so, that he didn’t want to risk even the short swim back over to the other yacht. Not that he wanted to leave, he still had so much to learn from his snorkelling masters.

As the sun set, and the air started to turn chilly, they retreated to the nest of cushions in the cabin, their white towels loosening as they collapsed in a heap. The setting sun created pretty twinkling dappled lights on the cabin ceiling, as if they were already snorkelling under the water together.

The hypnotic twinkling only added to Leo’s already spinning head and heavy eyelids. It was getting hard and harder to keep his eyes open as the two men continued to explain the importance of wrapping your lips around the snorkel properly. Experienced divers trained themselves not to panic when water got into the tube. Professionals didn’t surface and blow, they simply swallowed and carried on.

But it took constant training to learn the trick. Even the two Frenchmen would practise their snorkelling technique together most nights. Blank and empty headed, Leo mumbled his desire to be taught the technique, even as his eyelids fluttered shut.

Eyes closed and mouth open as instructed, Leo took the soft malleable snorkel between his lips, working his tongue around it. His lips moved up and down the snorkel’s shaft, practising holding it in his mouth, as in his fuzzy head, they swam together through the dappled waters of the cabin. Leo reached up with a free hand as they swam to run it through the hairy seaweed chest of one of his new snorkelling buddies.

The snorkel in his mouth grew firmer and firmer, until the inevitable happened, and a load of warm salty water came down the tube flooding his mouth. Leo swallowed and carried on like the professional he was.

Delighted with his progress, the second of his new buddies moved in to give Leo another snorkel to practise his technique on. By now their towels had fallen away, making for easier naked swimming through the twinkling waters. It also allowed the first buddy to sink lower and practise on Leo’s own rock hard snorkel.

Once Leo had delivered his own salty load to be swallowed, the satisfied first buddy positioned himself behind Leo to demonstrate another snorkelling technique to help support your dive partner through the water, while Leo continued training on the second snorkel still in his mouth.

At first the snorkel in Leo’s ass was uncomfortable, but soon it was pounding him hard and joyously through the waters, until he had to swallow a second load of warm salty liquid that came down the snorkel still in his mouth.

Eventually they all collapsed in a naked heap in the soft next of the cabin and fell into a satisfied sleep.

In the warm morning sunshine the three buddies dived off the yacht still naked for a swim, before returning to the cabin so that Leo could practise his snorkelling technique some more.

In the afternoon, Leo returned to his yacht to collect his things and say his goodbyes. He planned on spending his time with his new buddies on the French boat for the rest of the season, perfecting his snorkelling technique. After all, he still had so much more to learn.