The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

We have to fast forward to the following summer. I’m tan, fit, and would be happy if my poor Jason weren’t so burned out. He wasn’t used to full-time studenthood and was taking summer courses to boot in order to catch up. He didn’t look bad, but he didn’t look like summer Jason either.

One Saturday we got a surprise visit from Tommy (well, Tommy was never a surprise) and Max. Now here’s a different story. Tommy looked like I imagined myself looking in that previous session. He had filled out, let his hair grow a bit, had that enormously attractive tan that only tannable freckled people can get, and with his green eyes, he was pretty irresistable. Max, strangely enough, was not the same geek at all. His skin had cleared up (the wonders of modern medicine), he had a nice neat haircut for the first time, he was still slender but filling out, and his dirty blond hair looked great against his tanned face. And for the first time I noticed he had great medium-blue eyes.

“Paul, Jason, you’ve got to see this,” said Tommy. And they put a cassette in the VCR. It seems Max had done a little hypnotist show for some black guys in the next neighborhood, for the 16th birthday of one of them. Boy, when an idea gets going in my circle, it just goes around and around. There were three subjects, the birthday boy whose name was Chris (I know you’re expective Tyrone or Donntae, but his name was Chris), his younger brother, and I guess a friend about the same age as the brother.

So they did a nice show and I think that the younger kids, who usually go under real easily, were just going through the motions. Well, Max wasn’t that experienced. But Chris was a great subject. Near the end of the show, in the “awake” phase, Max asked the guys if they smoked. They all denied it. (I don’t know what the audience was here but I guess it wasn’t the parents.) So Max put them back under. “When you open your eyes again, you are going to realize that you are smokers. Serious smokers. You smoke whenever you have the opportunity. You would smoke between 10 and 20 cigarettes a day if you could. You love everything about it. You love the taste, the stimulation of the nicotine. You love smelling it on your hands after you’ve finished a cigarette. You love the idea that someone might see you smoking or smell it on you. You love the act of lighting up and watching the exhale. Your favorite brand is Salem 100s box. You’ll smoke another brand if you have to but you like that brand” And he went on even more. “When you open your eyes, you will be dying for a cigarette.”

Whew. Talk about laying it on obsessively. So the guys opened their eyes, and Max offered them a cigarette. The two younger ones accepted, lit up nervously and giggly, and smoked like amateurs. Chris was a different matter. “Yeah man, I’m fucking dying. Hurry up and give me one.” And he did a real professional light-up, drag, and exhale.

“Whaddaya think, Paul?” said Tommy, who still did most of the talking for both of them. As we all sat there smoking ourselves, I thought it was one of the hottest things I had ever seen, but what I had to say was, “Look, I know that I’m not the poster boy for Stop Youth Smoking in America, but I’ve never gotten anyone started. You hypnotize people to stop, not start.” Like I had ever had a lot of luck with that. “I’m not sure this was a great idea.” So I had said the responsible thing, and dropped the matter. “Where do you guys get your cigarettes anyway?” I asked. “The convenience store on Elm Street. There’s a clerk there who will sell to anyone when no one else is in the store.”

“So you wanna do a session while we’re here?” This was actually Max for once. Where was this coming from. “You have anything specific in mind?” I said. “Well, I’m still basically Tommy’s subject when he wants it.” Glad he didn’t say “slave.” “And I know you can put Tommy under real easily. I don’t know about you and Jason.” Jason’s turn: “You know, Paul, I think I’d like to be a subject.” This was a ridiculous idea. As far as I knew, Jason had not been hypnotized since Joey and I both did it when he was 15. As an experienced stage hypnotist, he knew every technique in the book and probably couldn’t go under anymore. I said, “Where did this come from?” “Nowhere, it’s just that I’m so beat a hypnotic session might be just the thing for me.”

There was truth in that. The notion that one hour of hypnosis equals eight hours of sleep is not perfectly accurate, but the mental relaxation of really letting yourself go in trance can be just what the doctor ordered. “OK, I’ll have a go at it. Tommy, a word with you.” So I told Tommy to put Max under, and then I said he would suggest that Max would hypnotize him right back. I knew this was a fantasy of his, and it was about time to see if we could make it happen. “I don’t know how I feel about being his subject. I don’t even know if I can go under with him.”

“Relax, Tommy. Relax everything.” And with a few more words, he had the wall-eyed goofy look. “You will fall under when Max hypnotizes you. You will have complete trust because you know I’m here and awake to keep anything from going wrong. Remember, you never have to do anything under hypnosis that you don’t really want to. And remember, Max is your hypnotist. You’re not just going under on your own.” So I brought him out of it, and while he and Max did their thing, I undertook the much more difficult and long-winded task of getting Jason under.

I had to do more than a stage induction here. When I told Jason to relax a body part, I gave it a firm, supportive squeeze. Not sexual, but interpersonally intimate. I suggested a loss of muscle tone, something I knew he would understand, but which would be lost on a stage subject. He was getting there. “Paul, I need more words,” he murmurred. OK, bright idea. Sometimes a very personal reminiscence helps in the hard cases. “Jason, I want you to remember back to the time you were 15. To that summer when you and Billy and I hung out and basically had each other hypnotized the whole time. I want you to picture yourself as you were then.” I was going to go into more detail, but suddenly, he spontaneously opened his eyes. “Yo dude.” He was there. This was what he needed. A complete escape for an hour or two.

So Jason sees himself as a 15-year-old black guy. I put him to work undressing and admiring his own body. I’ve lost track of Tommy and Max. I look over, and they are undressed, facing each other, looking in that trancy way, hands on each other’s shoulder. “Blue” says Max. “Red” says Tommy. Changing body colors—another theme in the group. They were certainly enthralled by it. “Tommy, can you hear me? Max, can you hear me?” No response. Well, this wasn’t going to be a lot of fun if I couldn’t get them past turning each other purple and orange. I hadn’t done their induction. I could shake them awake. Hmmmm. Jason had been in the corner awe-struck by his own black beauty. Hopefully, a side benefit of this is that he’d learn to like that the way I did. We could share more porn movies together. “Jason, when I count to three you will be able to mimic your adult persona as a stage hypnotist while you physically remain the way you are now. 1-2-3.”

“Jason, I need your help. Do you know any way to get these guys into the game with us without shaking them awake?” “I think so, man.” Remember, I’m terrible at recreating accents, so you have to imagine Jason talking in character. After years with him, it was a gas.

Then Jason did the weirdest thing. He walked up to Tommy and chanted softly, slowly in his ear: “Tommy, Tommy, Tooooommmmmmy.” A signal from a past session I knew nothing about? A trick Jason had learned that worked in a similiar context? I never bothered to ask. Tommy glanced slightly to the side and Jason seemed to have at least half his attention. “Tommy, I want you to be receptive to communication with Paul and me. When we talk to you, you will respond. You can continue to do what you want with Max but you will not ignore us. You will want to include Paul in the fun. Nod your head if you understand. Good. Now give Max the same suggestion.” And Tommy repeated it word for word.

So what was “including me in the fun” going to mean? Tommy said, “Max, when I count to three, you will go to the bathroom, get the shaving cream and both of these guys’ razors.” “Tommy, when I count to three, you will go to the closet and get all the body paint stuff.” Then a coordinated “1-2-3,” and they were off and running.

Understand I’m not a shaving fetishist. But I guess at least one of them was. I had a feeling hypnosis was a little irrelevant here because they probably would have gone along with this idea wide awake if someone had thought of it. So they started in on me. “Not the head, guys.” Last time I had tried that, it took me weeks to live it down. But they went over every other inch of me, not that I’m very hairy. Jason under a suggestion joined the fun. They would lather an area, shave it, wipe it off, and Jason would start smearing the body paint on. His suggestion was directly that it would be the most erotic thing he had ever done, and he was as hard as a rock. And all the while Tommy and Max kept calling out colors to each other. So this took a long time, because with each new color they had to examine themselves.

When we got to the end of the process I was dry above but not yet below the waist. And a little wondering what to do next. I probably should have left either Tommy or Max awake because the way they were they could hardly be called models of initiative.

A knock on the door solved the problem. Of course I wasn’t going to just open the door with all of us in this state. But I looked through the peep-hole, and there was Chris, the birthday boy! He was shirtless and—this almost made me faint—his substantial dick was sticking out of the fly of his short pants. Better get him in here before the neighbors see.

Chris was way, way under. “Max, he’s not on drugs, is he?” “No.” In his state and the way Max was anyway, I wasn’t going to get more than one syllable out of him. Tommy was a little more forthcoming, though in his tranced fascination with how he could transform Max’s body, he wasn’t going to make any long speeches either. “He’s supposed to be real mellow and laid-back.” Which he sure was. If I thought Tommy’s trance face was cute, this guy was practically sleep-walking. “Max, you didn’t make him walk all the way here with his dick sticking out?” I hate humiliation. “No.” Just some stunt for my benefit, I guess.

Jason, still in role, gave Chris an enthusiastic dep, which of course puzzled Chris, who did not see Jason as a brother. Chris way smelled of smoke, which I have to admit I like, so either Max had been real (and perhaps unfortunately) successful, or Chris had not been honest about being a non-smoker, or some combination of the two. “You Paul?” he said to me. “Yes.” And immediately he had his hands all over my chest. “He can’t take his hands off you until he hears the magic word,” said Tommy. “Whisper it to me.” “I can’t; it’s a secret.” More of Max’s idea of fun, I guess. “Is he gay?” “He thinks if he does this he gets a date with a beautiful girl tonight.” That didn’t seem fair. We’d have to find some substitute gratification.

Well, I could see where this was going. At least I knew where I wanted it to go. I had this notion to take some baby blue body paint and make up Chris at least from the head to the neck, but that would have been going in the wrong direction. The body paint thing is fun but incompatible with some aspects of sex. And I had to think about how to keep Jason occupied. So, I had Jason sit down and watch pretend porn on TV while Chris and I went to shower. Max and Tommy would take care of themselves. If Chris couldn’t remove his hands, at least I could take advantage of it.

Chris was about the hottest black dude I had ever seen. About 5′8″. A young athlete’s build. Very, very dark. I couldn’t keep my hands off him, either. I could have showered with him all day but had to worry about what was going on in the living room. So we cleaned up, and then went back to the action.

“Tommy, will you accept a suggestion from me?” I said. “Sure, Paul.” Let’s team up, you, Chris, and me, and then we’ll make Jason and Max happy with each other. “OK.” So we suggested to our subjects that they would have a great time with each other and left the details up to them, while Tommy came over to Chris and me.

This was hot. This was very, very hot. Two gorgeous bodies, two ideal types, one on my right, one on my left. Tommy was a little coming out of his trance as I made him more excited. Chris just zombied it up. Kisses on both sides. (See what I mean about the body paint? It’s safe but doesn’t taste very good.) Tommy, who had gotten me to enjoy mutual oral sex, suggested a three-way BJ. I had never done that in my life. There’s a first time for everything. I was on Chris, Chris was on Tommy, Tommy was on me. If this guy had not been a smoker, if he wasn’t gay, he was the all-time champion instant transformer. I knew I had to have his ass.

Tommy, pretty awake by now, said, “I don’t know whether he’s a good fuck or not.” I’m not into hurting people. The problem now was that Chris was not under my specific suggestions. He was just following Max’s rather complicated scenario which involved pleasing me. He still never took his hands off some part of my body. “Tommy, is the magic word going to cancel all his suggestions?” “Yeah.” Well there goes that idea. Let’s see if I could give Chris some directions as part of the desire to please. So I managed to get him in position and started working his ass with my fingers. I’m good enough at it these days to know whether a guy can take me without pain. “Does it make you happy that you’re making me happy, Chris?” “Yeah.”

He could take me. So I put on my rubber and got started. I usually last a long time, but this day had been so erotic that I couldn’t hold back for long. Then Tommy and Chris finished each other off. As usual, I’m not very good at observing what the other parties are doing, but I do know Max and Jason were putting on a good show. As a matter of fact, this was the closest I had ever come to orchestrating something that looked like a finale from a George Olroy film. Except with more ethnic variation and even better looking guys (well, maybe not me).

Now how to bring closure? We had to get Chris dressed and out of there and preferably happy about the whole thing. Max was still under, so Tommy suggested to Max that he give Chris additional suggestions. “Chris, take your hands off Paul. When I count to three, you will put on your clothes and go home. When you get there, as you shut the door, you will come completely out of trance. Shutting the door will have the same effect as the magic word I gave you before. All you will remember about today is that you had a good time with some new friends.”

Well, that might work. I said to Tommy, “I’m not too comfortable about the fact that he still thinks he has a hot date tonight.” “Oh don’t worry, we fixed him up with some girl who was at the party. He was just under the delusion that he could only get her because he came here.” Delusion? Maybe there was hope for this boy’s education after all.

Then Tommy and Max, the latter still tranced, left. Wonder what Tommy had in mind for him that he had not already tried? And all this took long enough so that Jason, well, he was in some intermediate state, sitting with his eyes closed. “Jason, wake up,” was all I had to say. “What happened? How long have I been under?” Spontaneous hypnotic amnesia. “It’s been about three hours. How do you feel?” “I feel great. Like the best I’ve felt in a year.” “Do you want me to put you back under to remember?” “Not necessarily. I have some general vague idea that sex was involved. Did you have a good time?” “A good time was had by all.”