The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A few weeks after Dad’s first “training session” with Peter, I was sitting naked on the living room floor doing homework on my laptop when I heard someone unlock the front door. At first, I dismissed it, but then it occurred to me that Dad was already home. So, who was coming in the front door? Whoever it was, they weren’t being stealthy, so I figured it wasn’t a robber or anything like that, but who in the hell else had a key to our place? Shit! I was totally naked, and there was no way to get to my bedroom without passing right in front of the front door.

“Hey, Lucas, Nick, it’s me”, my best friend, Timmy, called out. “Can you guys come here for a sec?”

I relaxed instantly at the sound of Timmy’s voice. He always had that effect on me now, but in this case, I had good reason. He was one of the few people I had no objections to being naked around. Being naked around him was as natural to me as sitting on the floor instead of the furniture. I had a suspicion that Timmy’s hypnosis had something to do with both of my newfound habits, since I’d only started them after he’d started hypnotizing me, but that just made them all the more exciting. I loved being hypnotized now, even though I’d once had a slight phobia about it.

Setting my laptop aside, I walked into the front hall to say hi. Before I even got to the point of saying anything, though, I noticed the rod in Timmy’s pants and automatically dropped to my knees, my cock beginning to swell. If Timmy had an erection, he was definitely going to be hypnotizing either me or Dad—probably both of us. Even as he greeted me with a deep, demanding French kiss, Timmy leaned down to stroke my cock briefly, his cold hands threatening to make my rapidly stiffening cock go soft again.

A minute later, Dad made his way down from his bedroom and joined us. “Oh, hi there, Timmy! How are you?”, he asked congenially. “Oh, never mind, I can see exactly how you are!”, Dad laughed, following my example and getting down on his knees. Like me, he was naked, and I could see his cock beginning to rise as the two of us got to work undoing Timmy’s pants.

Timmy had always enjoyed blowjobs as a way of greeting him, and while Dad had only recently gotten comfortable with the idea, now that he was, he seemed to be trying to make up for lost time. No sooner was Timmy’s cock out of his pants than Dad was on it, taking it as deep down his throat as he could manage. I settled for licking the base of Timmy’s lengthy shaft as well as his balls.

Timmy largely ignored our efforts other than to thrust deeper into Dad’s mouth once or twice, though. Mostly, he stared at his phone, obviously reading something. “Well, as much as I’m enjoying this, we have a lot to do today, so we should probably move this into the living room”, Timmy asserted after he’d reached the end of whatever it was he was looking at. “Peter says I need practice at doing things the long way, so the two of you should get comfortable and then we’ll get started.” That gave me some idea of what he must have been reading.

It turned me on even more to know that Timmy was hypnotizing us at Peter’s direction. Peter was the best hypnotist in the world, as far as I was concerned. I wasn’t sure how long the two of them had both been hypnotizing me, at least not exactly. One or both of them had hypnotized me not to realize I was being hypnotized at first, but once I was totally over my fear of it, they let me in on their little secret. It turned me on to think that they’d converted me from being slightly paranoid about being hypnotized to loving it.

Dad and I followed Timmy into the living room, both of us lying down on the floor and closing our eyes. Meanwhile, Timmy took a seat on the couch, as seemed only right for a hypnotist, and started trying to put us under. Oddly enough, Timmy was weakest when it came to what was apparently the most common, traditional way to hypnotize someone. I knew nothing about hypnosis myself, apart from the fact that getting hypnotized was highly erotic, but Timmy often talked about things he’d done, either with us or with others and had been quite candid about his one weakness.

Not unexpectedly, it took Timmy some time to get both Dad and I under. I never remembered anything that happened once I was under, but the fact that I was aware that Timmy was trying was evidence enough that he wasn’t especially good at this. Normally, when Peter put me under “the long way”, which had only happened twice so far that I knew of, I felt a very comfortable relaxation sweeping over me as I listened to his voice, and I was never really aware of being led into a trance at all. I only knew that’s what he’d been doing to me those two times because he’d told me he was going to do it. Despite Timmy’s difficulties, I got hard the minute he started, and remained that way the whole time he was putting me under. The next thing I knew, I was kneeling in front of him, Dad at my side, both of us staring at Timmy’s rigid cock.

“As you’re aware, Nick, Peter and I have been training you and your son to be more comfortable around one another. How has that been going so far?”, Timmy asked him as soon as Dad and I were both awake.

“Great! And I can’t thank the two of you enough for helping us get to where we are now. It’s absolutely fantastic being able to just jerk off wherever and whenever I feel like it, and not even have to worry about whether Lucas is around or not. And that goes both ways, too. Hell, the other night, I spent a good ten minutes or so kissing him good night, and he invited me to stay and watch him masturbate afterwards. It was fantastic! Especially the part where he pulled out his dildo and I knew we were both imagining it was Peter.” Dad’s dick throbbed at the memory. So did mine, for that matter. I loved having him watch me masturbate and often made a point of doing it around him.

Timmy smiled encouragingly. “And up until now, apart from your sessions with Peter and me, have you ever thought of helping him, or having him help you?”

“Naw, man, that’d be incest!”, Dad objected. “It’s different when we’re being trained, though, cuz then I know that Lucas’ cock is clean and completely incest-free, so it’s not a problem.”

“Fair enough”, Timmy grinned. “But I think you’ve been hypnotized enough by now that you know his cock is always clean and incest-free, even when you’re not being trained, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I dunno, man. Seems a bit sketchy”, Dad insisted.

“See for yourself, Nick. Have a look at your son’s cock right now. Like you, he’s nice and hard, and I imagine he’d appreciate a little attention. Don’t you think it’d be nice to help him out?”

Following Timmy’s directions, Dad looked over at my cock. Knowing full well that we’d both been hypnotized to do more than we once would have, I started throbbing, small droplets of precum forming and oozing down my head.

“He does have a great-looking cock, I have to admit!”, Dad agreed.

“And it’s perfectly clean right now, isn’t it?”, Timmy asked.

“Yeah, I suppose it is. Clean and incest-free, like always.” Now that Dad was actually looking at me, I could tell he was really getting into the right mindset when it came to touching my cock. Personally, I’d reached the same point several weeks back, and like Timmy had suggested, I never even gave a second thought to the idea of Dad having sex with me. It was awesome when Peter hypnotized Dad into understanding that this wasn’t incest at all. I especially loved it when he put Dad into a waking hypnosis and the two of them tag-teamed my ass.

“So, why don’t you reach over and give your son a hand, Nick!", Timmy suggested.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s a good idea, actually, now that you mention it!”, Dad agreed, his right hand wrapping around my cock and starting to stroke it back and forth.

“Feels good to help him out, doesn’t it, Nick?”, Timmy asked.

“Yeah, feels great! Now that you’ve helped me realize there’s nothing wrong with it, I expect I’ll be doing this a lot more in the future”, Dad grinned as he started stroking me faster.

“Indeed, you will”, Timmy laughed. “In fact, I daresay that from now on, neither of you will ever masturbate yourselves again unless Peter or I want you to—you’ll only masturbate each other.” I grinned and winked at Timmy, grateful that he’d hypnotized Dad into helping me out. I loved getting my cock serviced by my Dad, and I was happy that we wouldn’t have to confine it to just our sessions with Peter or Timmy anymore.

“What have I been hypnotized to do?”, I asked, having a hard time restraining myself from cumming as Dad hit a good spot. I knew couldn’t cum without permission from a hypnotist, but some days, it took a conscious effort. Having my Dad stroking my cock for the first time outside of a hypnosis session was definitely making it harder not to cum. “Or am I already doing it and don’t even know?”

“You’re not doing it yet, but you won’t even think about it when the time comes”, Timmy grinned. “I don’t know if you’ll realize it’s unusual or not, and I’ll be following up on that to find out, but I promise you that you’ll do it.” Timmy’s grin was positively evil. I loved it!

Things seemed to go pretty normally after that. At Timmy’s suggestion, I lubed his cock up and let him fuck me. Or rather, I begged him to fuck me. Dad and I started kissing while Timmy was busy, the two of them sandwiching me in the middle. I really hoped Timmy would let Dad fuck me, and even fantasized about it while Timmy was enjoying my hypnotized ass, but sadly, he never suggested it. Timmy took his time, leisurely fucking my hole until he finally came in my ass maybe half an hour later. He even gave me permission to cum, which I almost never got to do lately. It took only seconds from the time he said it to the time I came, spewing it all over Dad’s stomach and watching it dribble into his pubic hair as I continued getting fucked.

Despite both of us having just cum, Timmy kept fucking me at a steady pace. That was one of the other benefits of hypnosis—cumming didn’t always mean you were done. Several times, I’d cum and then kept going until Peter or Timmy decided we were done. This time, both Timmy and I had cum, but we kept right on fucking anyway, very likely because Peter had said to in his message, though it could also just be that Timmy had something specific in mind too. It wasn’t my place to question a hypnotist.

“You like cold cum, don’t you, Lucas?”, Timmy asked, sliding his entire shaft out of my hole, then plunging it back in again.

“Not really, no”, I disagreed. “I don’t even like hot cum except yours and Peter’s, at least outside of our sessions.” I knew what was coming, of course. Both Peter and Timmy got off on having guys admit that they didn’t want to do something, then making them want to do it. As I stared at my cum drying in Dad’s pubes, wondering when Timmy was going to change my mind on the issue, I started thinking how good it would actually taste, and I knew I was going to lick it all up just as soon as Timmy let me. I was grateful that Dad would actually let me do that sort of thing without him needing to be hypnotized anymore. It could be fun to cum on him sometimes, let it cool, and then lick it all back up again.

“That’s so fucking cool!”, I told Timmy as I realized what my train of thought had been. Leaning down and feeling Timmy’s slightly softening cock follow my movement—now missing the prostate entirely, yet no less fun to have inside of me—I started slurping my cum out of Dad’s pubes. I ended up getting half a dozen of the goddamned things in my mouth before I was done, yet I couldn’t help but keep licking until I was sure I’d gotten as much as I possibly could. When I was done, I simply followed the curve of Dad’s cock with my tongue, instinctively offering him a blowjob as Timmy switched to Dad and started fucking him. Dad was really tight, even with Timmy’s repeated suggestions to loosen up, so Timmy didn’t spend very long inside of him.

He may have had difficulty loosening up when he was told to, but Dad had no problems cumming on demand, and I felt my mouth fill with his delicious seed at Timmy’s order. I swallowed it all eagerly, the two of us French-kissing once he was done. I’d already swallowed all of the cum by the time we started kissing, but Dad loved kissing me after I’d been blowing him, cum or no cum.

As usual, Timmy let Dad and I clean him off after he was done fucking the two of us, obviously using a hypnotic trigger on Dad to remind him how much he enjoyed sucking cock after getting fucked. I no needed that kind of reminder myself and got started even as Timmy was telling Dad what to do. With no competition for his cock for the moment, I took Timmy deep into my mouth, relaxing my throat as I’d been taught so I could go all the way down on him. “How’s it taste?”, Timmy asked as I sucked my way back off of it, letting Dad join in.

“Delicious!”, I replied with a grin. “God damn, I love the taste of your cock! It’s always so tasty, no matter what!”, I enthused. Despite doing it, I still tried hard not to think about what I was doing—or more to the point, what Timmy had been doing just before. That almost always involved retching until Peter or Timmy interceded. I was getting better about it, though. I could sort of think about it in passing now, as long as I kept it distant and just focused on how much I loved cock.

Dad and I took our time, both of us tonguing Timmy’s cock until it was completely free of lube and cum, though Timmy kept precumming, so it was never going to be a hundred percent clean, no matter how hard we tried.

I was disappointed to hear that Timmy was heading back home after he was done with the two of us, though he partly made up for it by presenting Dad and I with a surprise. As intent as I’d been on Timmy’s cock when he first showed up, I hadn’t noticed that he’d set a long cardboard tube down in the front hall, along with his backpack. Opening up the end of the tube, he drew out a poster and handed it to me. Even as I started to unroll it, Timmy started fishing out another one for Dad. “These are to put up in your rooms”, he suggested.

Unrolling mine further, I realized what it was before I was even half-way down. It was an image of both Peter and Timmy standing together. It was very simple, nothing erotic at all. I thought it might even have been taken at one of those department store photo studios, actually, as it had that sort of tacky, fake background to it. Timmy had obviously posed himself so that the tattoo on his neck was showing to good advantage, the web reminding me of Peter almost as much as seeing Peter himself did.

As soon as Timmy had gone, Dad and I barreled up the stairs to put up our new posters, both of us sitting and staring at them in admiration for who knew how long. I wished I could cum again just staring at the two of them, imagining both of them hypnotizing me, but it wasn’t happening for me. I never even touched my cock as I all but drooled over the new poster. If Dad was in the same predicament I was, I knew he wouldn’t be showing up to help, either.

Eventually, my stomach demanded dinner, and I reluctantly tore myself away from the poster. Dad was still in his bedroom staring at his, though hearing me move around, he also got up with a last, regretful look towards the poster before joining me. After we were done eating, neither of us felt the need to go back up and stare at the posters, and I got a hard-on as I realized that that must’ve been a post-hypnotic suggestion. I doubted if that was the post-hypnotic suggestion that Timmy had alluded to, though, as it seemed much too simple and straight-forward for the evil grin he’d given me.

It wasn’t until later that night that the promised suggestion became obvious, and even then, I didn’t realize what I was doing at first. Knowing we’d be “helping” each other, Dad and I got ready for bed a bit earlier than normal, both of us spontaneously sprouting erections as we thought about what was coming. At the top of the stairs, we split off, Dad heading for the master bathroom and me for the hallway bathroom to brush our teeth. When I was done, I joined Dad in his bedroom, my cock already oozing precum.

Dad came out and joined me, lying down on his bed and clearly expecting me to take the lead in whatever we decided to do. In fact, he completely ignored what I was doing once he was lying down, opting to stare at the new poster, instead.

Without even thinking about it, I pushed his legs up, folding his knees towards his chest, then lay down on the bed. “Pass me the lube?”, I requested, knowing full well he had some next to his bed—I’d seen him use it several times now.

I casually massaged the outside of Dad’s hole as he fumbled around blindly for the lube, never taking his eyes off of Peter and Timmy. Ignoring my attentions completely, Dad lay there like some kind of sex doll, letting me rim him, and eventually finger him, without even acknowledging my presence. Even as distracting as the poster was—I looked at it for inspiration fairly regularly myself—I couldn’t believe he would be this absorbed in it. He must have been following some kind of post-hypnotic command like we both had earlier…maybe to help loosen him up a bit? As tight as he was, it was hard to believe he could possibly be responding to any suggestions to loosen up, but maybe that was what Timmy and Peter were complaining about. We were polar opposites that way—since the day I’d met Peter, I’d been taking as much as I could up my ass and loving it, though to me, it almost always felt like just a single finger, no matter how much something stretched my hole.

I spent most of the next hour rimming and fingering my father until I had him taking three fingers, though it was a fairly tight squeeze. Pulling out, I told him to tighten up as much as he could, then loosen up again. He did his best to follow my commands, but he clearly didn’t loosen up to where he’d been just a moment before. With him following commands and otherwise just staring zombie-like at the poster of the two greatest people either of us had ever known, I moved back down to two fingers and loosened him up yet again until he was back to taking three. Then I told him to tighten up once more.

The two of us repeated that process several times over the course of another hour before I finally stuck my cock inside of him. The moment I started to penetrate, he stopped staring at the poster and stared straight at me instead. “Oh, hey son, glad you showed up. I’ve been looking forward to helping you all night!” Well, that settled that, not that there’d been much doubt. I’d been fingering and rimming his hole for roughly two hours, and he was only just now noticing I was even there! I would’ve been insulted if I hadn’t been so turned on by it.

Unfortunately, along with noticing me came a tightening of his ass once again. Thankfully, I was half-way in already, or he might well have ended up pushing me out again! Forcing my way in firmly but very slowly, I waited, hoping he would get used to it again and relax. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. He showed only mild signs of discomfort, though, so I kept going, albeit at a snail’s pace compared to how fast I wanted to ram him so that I could cum, if I was even allowed to. I never did end up cumming, but I spent another quarter of an hour lethargically sliding in and out of him before deciding he’d had enough. Pulling out unceremoniously, I left without a word, grabbing a quick shower before I hopped into bed. I wanted to cum very badly, but I remembered what Timmy had said earlier about never masturbating unless Dad was doing it for me. I figured he’d had enough for one night, so I lay there rigid until I fell asleep…without ever cumming, of course.

The whole rest of the week, we repeated virtually the same pattern. There were slow but noticeable improvements over the week, both in terms of how loose Dad could get and how quickly. It made me happy to see him loosening up over the course of the week because I knew it would give Peter and Timmy a better time when they were inside of him.

By the middle of the following week, when Peter invited us over, Dad was able to loosen up fairly reliably, if slowly. With both physical help from me and hypnotic help from Peter, Dad was taking our cocks inside of him in no time, at least compared to the hours it had taken me the first night. In a reversal of roles for Dad and I, Peter and I kept banging Dad’s ass until Peter eventually geared up to cum, pounding Dad’s hole relentlessly. He even let me do the same after he was done, though it only took me a few thrusts once I knew I was allowed to cum. As always, once Dad was fully awake, he gave Peter a grateful smile, thanking him for all the training.

A few nights later, I got a call from Timmy, out of the blue. “Hello?”, I answered once I’d made it back to my room from the master bedroom. I waited patiently, but didn’t get a response. I could hear Timmy breathing, so I didn’t think he’d pocket-dialed me. He could’ve hypnotized me without me knowing it, but I was usually a little too out of it know or care if he’d spoken after a session, so I didn’t think it was that, either. “Hello…earth to Timmy!”, I laughed after a few more seconds of waiting.

“Uhhh…sorry, I was…distracted for a moment”, he replied. “Are you and your Dad both home?” His voice had an urgent edge to it that I’d never heard before.

“Yeah, why? What’s up?”, I asked.

“I’ll tell you when I get there. Don’t go anywhere—either of you”, he ordered. “I’ll be there shortly.”

After he hung up, I went back to Dad’s bedroom to tell him about the call. He’d been dildoing himself and staring at the picture of Peter and Timmy while I’d been taking care of his cock, though we both knew he’d never cum from it. For us, masturbating each other and admiring the poster was our way of honoring our hypnotists—worshipping them, even—when they couldn’t be around for us to do it in person. Knowing that Timmy was on his way, though, Dad wrapped up what he was doing and the two of us went downstairs to kneel quietly in the front hall and wait.

As usual, Timmy’s eyes took on a feral look after he’d let himself in and saw the two of us kneeling there for him, though it was a bit more subdued than usual. To both my surprise and Dad’s, he didn’t take advantage of our eagerness to pleasure him, like he usually would have. Hell, he wasn’t even hard tonight!

Instead of his usual state of arousal, it looked almost as if he was puzzled by something. Clearly coming to a decision, he put his finger to his lips and motioned the two of us to follow as he led the way upstairs. Continuing with his odd behavior, Timmy led us both into the main bathroom instead of either of our bedrooms, and he turned on the shower as soon as we got there.

“Go grab some lube—quietly—and then come straight back here”, Timmy ordered me as he reached out to fondle Dad. I could hear Timmy using Dad’s trigger phrase even as I left. He was obviously still triggered by the time I got back, and I heard the tail end of Timmy’s suggestions, encouraging him to be open and honest about everything. Once Dad was reasonably aware again, Timmy ordered him into the shower. By now, obedience was second nature to both of us.

Dad’s cock, which had softened up a little while we’d been waiting for Timmy, was beginning to stiffen up rapidly once again. He and Timmy stepped into the tub and Timmy bent him over against the shower wall, positioning himself to enter Dad’s ass and re-triggering him to help Dad loosen up. Watching the two of them, I started getting hard as well, knowing damned well that I’d probably be next. The only thing better than my collection of extra-large dildos and butt plugs was getting Timmy’s or Peter’s dick up my ass. Even getting one of their fists up my ass wasn’t as fun as a cock, though fisting certainly had its own appeal.

Dad had the look of an eager puppy as Timmy yanked his head back by the hair and started French kissing him. At Timmy’s request, I squirted lube onto my hand and lubed him up, then added a bit more to Dad’s ass as Timmy told us what was going on.

“Peter’s been arrested by the FBI”, he started, even as he began to fuck Dad’s hole, “and it’s at least possible they’ve bugged his place or yours.” Suddenly, I understood why the three of us were in the bathroom. It was unlikely there was a bug in here, and anything they heard from a more distant bug would probably be inaudible with the door closed and the shower running.

“I know enough to realize that it wouldn’t be the FBI unless he’s done something at the federal level”, Timmy continued. “The charges were almost all sex related, but one of them was impeding an officer. That can only be you, Nick. Has anyone mentioned anything to you? Or asked you anything?”, Timmy queried.

“Not directly, though now that you mention it, there’ve been a couple of people I work with who’ve been a bit shifty around me lately. I just put it down to job streeeeeesssssss”, Dad groaned the last word painfully. Even as tight as Dad was compared to me, he could easily take Timmy for girth, it was his length that was the problem. He was getting better at it, but Timmy still had to take it slowly at first.

I listened intently as Timmy went over everything that had happened with Peter, while Dad probed for details. Dad was obviously confused and pissed off at the fact that this had happened without his knowledge.

“So, what should we do now?”, Timmy asked, once they were done going over everything that had happened. “Are the FBI likely to still be spying on us? If so, how? Bugs? Phone taps? Internet? It seems fairly certain they’ve listened in on a conversation somehow, or they wouldn’t know enough to charge him with what they did. Come to think of it, how would they have even caught Peter in the first place without you knowing?”

“Let’s talk bugs first. You probably don’t have to be quite so paranoid”, Dad said. Timmy had slowed down his thrusting, and deliberately wasn’t going quite as deep, so Dad could get his answers out with a minimum of interruptions or misunderstandings. “I don’t know what they have on Peter or how they found out, but you’re right, it pretty much has to be me. That implies that someone is involved who knows me well enough to notice a change in my routine, despite how careful I’ve tried to be. And whoever it is clearly felt it was something they needed to look into.

“Paranoia is a common side-effect of our jobs, and we all know that, so chances are whoever initiated the investigation didn’t put that much effort into it at first. My suspicion would be that perhaps they followed me to Peter’s place and listened in with a parabolic dish or a bug. That could be combined with video, but video alone is unlikely, as that would only tell them that we were having sex, which isn’t exactly a federal offence. The wrong person might use that to try to blackmail me in some way, but having gay sex wouldn’t have led to Peter’s arrest in any way. They’d need audio or some other kind of evidence altogether in order to place the kinds of charges you mentioned”, Nick asserted. “They almost certainly realized we were being hypnotized, and I’m sure in their mind—whoever it was—they thought I was being hypnotized against my will. You and I may know that’s absurd, but I imagine that not everyone would understand how much I’ve come to value these training sessions.

“Your thought that they’re bugging our phones or internet is highly unlikely; that’s normally reserved for terrorism and the like, and they’d have to convince a judge that it was necessary. There would have to be other evidence in order for them to do that, and they likely wouldn’t have jumped on charging him so soon if that were the case—with no imminent threat, they would’ve held off for months or longer to gather as much evidence as they could and arrest anyone related. So, clearly, there’s nothing even remotely like that going on here.

“No, I would guess that whoever did this saw or heard something illegal and acted on it. Clearly, it wasn’t right away, since we weren’t with Peter at the time of the arrest, but perhaps in the few days before. Lucas and I did stop by Peter’s place a couple of days earlier, so I would guess that was the incident that triggered everything. I’m not sure what could possibly have caused them to arrest him, though. Peter’s just such a wonderful guy, and our training sessions have been so helpful. He’s never tried to force me to do anything I didn’t want to. I’m at a loss to imagine what they could possibly believe they have on Peter to warrant his arrest, much less that involves me. I guess, like I said before, some people just have the wrong idea about hypnosis and thought it was something I wouldn’t want.”

Watching the two of them, it seemed obvious to me that Timmy had some idea of what might’ve led to Peter’s arrest, but Dad was facing the other direction, so he didn’t see. I was kind of curious as to what that was, but I really didn’t feel the need to pry. I just stood there quietly, continuing to listen.

Dad whimpered forlornly as Timmy withdrew fully, slapping his dick against Dad’s ass crack a couple of times before shoving it back in. “Any idea who might have done this?”

“I’d guess that it would have to be someone at the Bureau who knows me well, so probably one of my co-workers. Describe the arresting officers”, Nick requested. I listened as Timmy described them, thinking at least one of them sounded like one of Dad’s co-workers. Dad obviously agreed.

“The team leader sounds like my boss, Maia; the others don’t sound familiar, though she probably would have gone outside our team, since arresting someone on your own team is both emotionally troubling and tends to lead to incorrect assumptions of guilt or innocence. The one you described as a ‘dickhead’ sounds like a guy I know in Identity Theft, but it could easily be one of half a dozen other guys at the Bureau, I’m sure.”

“Okay, so what do we do next?”, Timmy prompted.

“Well, I think the next step should be to determine where they most likely got their information. That’ll help us figure out the steps to take after that. However they got it, we’ll have to figure out ways to counteract what they’ve done and ensure that we’re not doing anything to help them build a case against someone who’s so obviously innocent.

“I’ll also try to look into the case and see what I can find out. That’s not going to be easy, as they’ll no doubt have locked me out of anything related.

“And of course, Peter will need a lawyer. If the FBI have arrested him, there’s a good chance that they won’t let him go unless and until he’s cleared. And even when he is cleared, which I’m sure he will be, they may well hound him afterwards if they’re still convinced that he’s guilty. So, whomever he gets as a lawyer, they should be prepared for a prolonged fight. They should also be one of the best—the FBI’s lawyers certainly will be. Wait, one of your dads works at a law firm, doesn’t he?”, Dad asked.

“Yeah, he managed to get a lawyer over while the agents were still gathering evidence, so that’s pretty much taken care of. I’ll check with her, though, to see if there’s someone else we should get”, Timmy assured me.

“Okay, so, now comes the hard part”, Timmy told us, sounding very subdued. “Lucas, why don’t you head downstairs for a bit. I think what I’m about to do would cause a lot of confusion for you if you stayed, which is the absolute last thing we need right now.”

It was an unusual request, but I trusted Timmy with my life, not to mention my mind, so I did as I’d been told and went back downstairs to watch television until Timmy was done whatever it was he was doing. It was nearly an hour before Timmy came downstairs to find me. Dad was nowhere in sight, though I could hear movement coming from his bedroom directly above me. Timmy didn’t say anything, simply waving his arm and beckoning me to follow him upstairs. Knowing that someone at the FBI might be listening, I understood his silence.

When we hit the top of the stairs, I was shocked to see Dad emerge from his bedroom in boxer shorts, a t-shirt, and just starting to tie his bathrobe around himself. I hadn’t seen Dad this dressed around the house in a while! Oddly, his attention stayed focused on his bathrobe and I didn’t think he’d seen Timmy or me at all, though he could obviously hear us.

Perplexed, I followed Timmy into the bathroom, hoping he would explain it all to me. Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately—Timmy gave me much the same treatment he had Dad, his long, nine-inch cock worming its way pleasurably up my ass as his mouth bore down on me and his tongue battled with mine. Unlike with Dad, he said nothing as he pummeled my ass. An explanation of what was going on would’ve been nice, but this was much nicer. Adding to all the weirdness, Timmy had a sad look in his eyes as we fucked, though that didn’t stop him from pounding me roughly until he came. I’d been expecting to go down on him and clean him off, like I usually did, but Timmy just stared at me with a look of regret, or maybe even sadness, before telling me it was time for another session.

I’d taken quite the lengthy shower, and it was only when the water started turning cold that I realized just how long I’d been in there. I wondered where Timmy had gone. Not that it was really a surprise that he’d given me my privacy while I showered, but I remembered him following me into the bathroom before I’d stepped into the tub and I couldn’t remember when he’d left or why.

Toweling myself off, I headed for the bedroom and put a pair of pajamas on. I usually wore boxers around the house, like Dad did, but I felt more of a need to cover up tonight. Dad and I had experimented briefly with nudity, but it really hadn’t worked out…on so many levels.

The idea of being naked around Dad seemed kind of creepy and disturbing now, though in some of my old fantasies, I’d sometimes wondered what it would be like to have incestuous sex with him. It still seemed oddly compelling sometimes, yet also totally sickening. Timmy didn’t know it, but that’s actually why Dad and I had been seeing Peter. We’d both had unwanted incest fantasies which had threatened to intrude on our lives and become a reality, leaving us both yearning for one another, yet disturbed by what we wanted. Peter had been completely professional about it, and had helped us work through what we were feeling.

Part of his therapy regimen had been a sort of shock-treatment—hypnotizing us both to think we were actually having sex with one another, and sometimes including others like himself or Timmy. It had been a risky move, but one that Peter had thought was the best approach in our case. He’d warned us beforehand that we might have false memories and have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality afterwards, but Dad and I had agreed. I think maybe at first, I’d almost hoped the fantasies would be enjoyable, but they hadn’t been. Faced with thinking it was actually happening, I’d been totally disgusted by the idea of incest, and I knew Dad felt the same.

He and I had come a long way thanks to those therapeutic fantasies—our interest in actual incest having completely dissolved now. I only hoped that it would stay dissolved now that Peter was in jail and we couldn’t get treatment anymore.

When I went downstairs, Timmy was in the living room chatting amicably with Dad. He was fully clothed again, I noticed, and then wondered why that was even notable. I remembered him being naked earlier, even if I couldn’t quite remember why, but that was hardly unusual for us. With all the sleepovers we’d had over the years, we’d gotten changed in front of one another many times and thought nothing of it nowadays.

Timmy and I talked for quite a while as well. He had a lot of questions for me, ranging from how I felt about Dad to how I’d enjoyed our sleepovers recently. Nothing tremendously important, just random chatter to fill time, I thought. Naturally, I didn’t hesitate to tell him everything he wanted to know.

He listened patiently, sometimes asking Dad for clarification on some aspects of what I’d said, but mostly keeping his focus on me. When we were done talking, Timmy told us that he should go soon, but that he’d be back a few times over the next several days to keep Dad and I up to date on everything.

The three of us got up and Timmy put on his shoes and jacket. Dad shook his hand goodbye, though he seemed a little awkward about it. Instinctively, I stepped up to Timmy and gave him a kiss, full on the mouth. I was just starting to open my mouth a little to get some tongue action going when it hit me what I was doing.

“Oh my god, I’m soooo sorry. I just…I don’t know what the hell I was thinking! I…I…oh god, just…just pretend I didn’t do that”, I stammered, blushing profusely. I had no idea what could possibly have been going through my head to make me do that, yet even as I thought about it, I had clear memories of having done that with Timmy many times before, and I remembered Dad being naked beside me when I had, and even having a hard-on! But, those were just Peter’s fantasies, I knew. They were so vivid, though, almost like they’d been real. But…they couldn’t have been. I was so confused! I knew just looking at Timmy that I would never have done anything like that in reality, even if I’d often fantasized about it before Peter had let me imagine actually doing it. I’d never told Timmy about any of this, so it obviously had to be a fantasy—a fantasy that I’d apparently just tried to act out a small part of in reality.

Even as flustered as I was, I noticed that Dad had a puzzled—and slightly disturbed—look on his face too, looking towards me almost as if he was thinking some of the same things I was. I knew that some of our fantasies were identical, thanks to Peter treating us together sometimes. Maybe this was one of those times, and in Dad’s mind, he’d said goodbye in much the same way I had, standing there with a hard-on, like I was imagining him. I could see why that would be even more embarrassing for him than it was for me. It wasn’t something I was about to ask him about, though.

“Relax, Lucas! It’s not a big deal. You’re actually pretty good at that sort of thing”, Timmy ribbed me, bringing me back to reality. It took me a second to realize that he was being oblique about what I’d just done, so as not to make me seem gay to anyone who might be listening. I was grateful that he seemed willing to simply laugh the whole thing off, giving me a slap on the shoulder as he turned to leave. I was thoroughly mortified, though, despite his efforts to make light of my gaffe. I looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes and see the shock in them that I knew he was merely hiding with humor. “Seriously, don’t give it another thought!”, he assured me. I continued to look generally towards the floor until after Timmy left, too embarrassed to look him in the eye or try to say goodbye normally.

Once he was gone, Dad and I shared a look then went straight back to staring at the ground again. I was sure now that he must be thinking of the same thing I was, at least in a general sense. I was happy Peter had gotten as far as he had in getting rid of those fantasies, but the aftereffects were still a bit problematic at times. I had a very strong longing to take Dad upstairs and have sex with him right now, and a very strong sense of revulsion at what I was thinking. Both would fade with time, Peter had said, and I would think of both the real and therapeutic fantasies less and less, but that didn’t help me in the here and now. I wished we’d had a little longer with him, so we could both have gotten rid of these fantasies completely.

Despite the fact that neither of us would normally have gone to bed for another hour or two, Dad and I awkwardly said good night to one another. He headed off to the kitchen for a snack before bed, while I went straight upstairs to my room. As I walked in, I noticed the tacky photo of Timmy and Peter on my wall. Why on earth had I ever put that up? Timmy had meant it as a joke, and I remembered eagerly putting it up the day he’d brought it over, but now, it seemed like more of a tasteless joke and I was sure Timmy had never really expected Dad or I to put our posters up anyway, certainly not for any length of time.

Now that I’d started thinking about it some more, I realized I had memories of masturbating while looking at it, but surely those must be fantasies from our therapy. I could never imagine actually masturbating to a picture of my best friend and some guy twice my age who, until a few months ago, I’d only really ever known as Timmy’s landlord. Hell, apart from the incest fantasies and a couple of related fantasies, I’d never fantasized about guys at all before a few months ago. Without a second thought, I tore the poster down and threw it in the garbage. Whatever I’d been thinking when I originally put it up, the joke was long over.

It was still quite early and while I would’ve welcomed the oblivion of sleep, I was nowhere near it yet. Hiding alone in my room, away from Dad, was still preferable to going out there and having to face him. I even held off going to the bathroom as long as I could, looking carefully around for him before I scooted down the hall. I had strong memories—no, no, they were fantasies—of him wandering down the hall with an erection for all to see, especially me, just as I’d shown myself off to him on many occasions. It had seemed so natural in the fantasy, and it had been such a turn-on at the time. Now, it was astoundingly revolting.

I gave some thought to masturbating when I got back from the bathroom, hoping that the aftereffects might knock me out, but the fantasies that ran through my head only made things worse, being a jumble of having sex with Dad, having sex with Timmy or Peter, and having sex with some of the hot girls on campus. The hot girls seemed the least appealing of all, but I briefly forced myself to fantasize about them. It was hopeless, even for the hottest of them. I simply had too many other things going through my head right now. It was hard to believe Peter was in jail. In a way, I felt like it was somehow both my fault and Dad’s for having these horrid fantasies in the first place.

I could remember very clearly the day Dad and I had spoken with Peter and asked if he could help us. He’d handled it very professionally and told us that it was likely a side-effect of having lost my mother—or in Dad’s case, his wife—and that these were just confusing pseudo-fantasies that neither of us truly wanted to do in reality. That was when he’d suggested the idea of shocking us back to reality with hypnotic fantasies. The strange thing was, whenever I heard him explaining it all, it sounded more like Timmy’s voice in my head. Clearly, that must be me just getting my wires crossed, since Timmy knew nothing about why Dad and I had been seeing Peter.

I temporarily gave up on sleeping and went back to the bathroom to grab some sleeping pills. I took the maximum dose before heading back to my bedroom, though it was still over an hour before they fully kicked in and I blessedly lost consciousness.

Dad was already gone by the time I got up. Usually, he’d still be around, but I suspected he’d left early, since things were still awkward for us. I was grateful that he wasn’t home, but at the same time, it was upsetting that I felt that way. We’d always been so close until this whole thing. Doing my best to put it all out of my mind, I ate breakfast and got ready for school.

I didn’t see Timmy at the college that day. We only had one class in common, though, and with everything else going on, I suspected he’d ditched it, or even skipped the entire day. He dropped by the house later in the afternoon, though, before Dad got home, and handed me a bag full of new clothes.

“What’s this?”, I asked.

Timmy brought his finger to his lips, and I understood immediately what he meant. “Just a little something I picked up while I was out today. I thought you might like it.”

Looking closer at the bag’s contents, I saw that there were at least two full changes of clothes there. Dad was notably more built than I was, so I went through the bag and picked out the smaller things, changing quietly apart from saying that it looked nice and thanking him for the gift…all for the benefit of any listening ears.

While I was busy doing that, Timmy pantomimed pulling a coat out of the closet, then shook his head, waving his hands back and forth in front of the closet in a warding gesture, and finally pointing outside. I understood exactly what he meant. Everything I would be wearing needed to be brand new, and that included my coat, and even my shoes come to think of it.

“Shall we head out?”, Timmy suggested, opening the door and leading me out to the car, where there were several more bags. Rummaging through them, I found a new spring jacket and a pair of sneakers. As paranoid as it seemed, I had no complaints. I’d much rather know nobody was listening in on my private conversations with Timmy than constantly have to watch what I was saying.

Once I finally had the new stuff on, Timmy and I went for a walk. We didn’t follow any kind of normal or logical path, instead wandering completely at random, though I noticed that Timmy was paying close attention to see if anyone might be following us, either in person or a vehicle. We ended up at a small park nearby, nothing more than a single picnic table and a small play structure for kids. Taking a seat at the table, Timmy and I started chatting about various things.

We spoke at length, though in truth, I was very distracted and didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to what he was saying. We talked a little bit about Dad and I being awkward around one another now, though I didn’t go into any great details, and he mentioned something about hypnosis. I knew he’d been learning about it from Peter for the last little bit, but he hadn’t really had much chance to practice it on anyone yet, so he wasn’t very good. Amusingly, though perhaps not surprisingly, we eventually drifted onto the topic of girls we both liked, and I found myself getting mildly aroused, though not enough to be embarrassing or anything.

By the time we were done talking and had wandered back home, Dad was there. Despite last night’s awkwardness, I was feeling noticeably less embarrassed about everything now. Even if Timmy didn’t know anything, the simple normalcy of talking with my best friend had helped, especially since he didn’t seem to have given a second thought to my inadvertent kiss from the night before. Unfortunately, Dad wasn’t quite as comfortable yet.

I had studying to do, so I left the two of them alone for a while and headed upstairs. Much like with me, Timmy and Dad went out for a walk only minutes after I’d cracked open my textbook, with Dad wearing all new clothing. Since they were gone, I decided to move down to the living room, it being brighter and far more conducive to studying than my room. As I took my seat on the floor, I had a bizarre urge to strip, but I laughed it off as yet another artifact of hypnosis, or maybe my fantasies from before then, and got down to studying.

When Timmy and Dad got back later, to my surprise, Dad gave me a huge bear hug as soon as I got to the front door. Despite the sorts of things that we’d both fantasized about, there was nothing even remotely sexual or awkward about the hug. It was just a plain and simple hug, and I very much appreciated the gesture. He didn’t say it in so many words, but I knew that everything that had gone on before was in the past now, and from now on, Dad and I were both going to work on reforging our relationship as a normal father and son.

With that out of the way, we started talking about dinner. It didn’t take long to decide that we would eat out at a restaurant, though the decision was mostly made with looks rather than words.

“We’ll take your car”, Dad said meaningfully to Timmy once we got outside. There was another round of looks, though we really didn’t have much to worry about now that we were outside the house. “My car’s LoJacked, so they’ll know wherever we go”, Dad explained once we were all in Timmy’s car. “There’s also the possibility it’s been bugged, though that’s highly unlikely. Cars aren’t the best places for bugs, since you have to remain reasonably close to the transmitter, and there’s a lot of noise in a car.

“Even less likely is the idea that they’ve bugged or LoJacked your car though, Timmy, which is why we’re in here. They’d have no reason to bug this car, as it wouldn’t get them any useful information. You come here all the time, and they’d know that because you two have been friends since you were kids and I’ve mentioned you any number of times over the years. So LoJacking would only confirm that you come here regularly. Similarly, bugging wouldn’t do anything, since I’d never have any reason to be in this car at all, normally.

“As you already know, Timmy, but I’ll repeat it for Lucas’ benefit: erring on the side of caution, I gave this car a quick once-over before we came back in and I didn’t detect anything suspicious, so I’m proceeding on the assumption that we’re not being listened to in here. Even if we are, what I’m about to say probably won’t make all that much difference to their case anyway. Just to be safe, though, if either of you have any questions, keep them brief and on-topic.”

As Timmy started to drive, Dad told us what he’d found out during the day. “This morning, I went to a friend in the Bureau whom I trust and asked him to see what he could dig up circumspectly. According to him, the lead officer on this case is indeed my boss, but I didn’t recognize anyone else on the team. We know that they used at least one listening device, as the report mentions audio evidence, but we don’t know whether that was a parabolic dish, one bug, many bugs, or even some other altogether unexpected device. Naturally, we also don’t know where any bugs were planted or if they’re still in place. I brought home a basic bug detector, so we’ll see what we can find with that.

“It’s not a guaranteed thing, though”, Dad continued. “While it’s likely they just used an RF transmitter or two, which this thing will detect, there are several other possible types of bugs they could’ve used that it won’t. Those are more expensive, though, and they would’ve had to requisition them. A simple RF transmitter is much easier to come by. Heck, you can pick the things up at any electronics store, never mind the Bureau.

“Despite the fact that we were just at home, I think we should start at Peter’s place. For one thing, we’ve done enough super-quiet things at home, and we don’t want to raise suspicion, at least not yet. For another, it’s more likely that the bug or bugs are there in any event.

“While we’re checking the house, we’ll need to include clothing, backpacks, bags and the like. We should also check Peter’s car. Regardless of all that, we’ll eventually need to come back and check our place too, of course, though we may want to actually have dinner before we head back”, Dad chuckled.

None of us said much after that, though Timmy did call ahead to tell his housemates that we were on our way and that they should be “on their best behavior”. I was kind of amused by his wording. Just what did they get up to that he had to admonish them to behave? Memories of Peter’s fantasies flew through my head, a couple of which included the housemates, but I knew them for what they were and dismissed them.

Once we reached Timmy’s, the three of us went inside, cranked the stereo, and quietly explained to Cameron and Kevin what was going on. Jeff was still at work. There were a couple of false starts from various electronics devices having been left on despite our best efforts, but we eventually got all the known electronics in the house unplugged or turned off and Dad started scanning the place from top to bottom. The rest of us also did a visual inspection, just on the off chance that it wasn’t a simple RF-based bug. Dad had told everyone what sorts of things to look for and where, so we went over every square inch of the house, along with Peter’s car and the rest of the garage. To everyone’s surprise, we found nothing.

“Alright, well, that means one of three things: they’ve removed the device, they’ve deactivated it, or there was never a bug in this house to begin with”, Nick said.

“The first is very unlikely”, Kevin asserted. “Cameron doesn’t need to work and I’m basically the live-in help, if I’m being honest”, he laughed. “Between the two of us, there’s virtually always someone home. Getting someone in here to plant a device was unlikely in the first place, but to repeat that feat and have them remove it as well is pretty much inconceivable.”

“Deactivating it is possible”, Dad continued on Kevin’s heels, nodding in acknowledgement of his point, “or just using weak batteries and letting them drain, but remote deactivation isn’t a common feature in the less expensive RF transmitters, and it’s unlikely they would’ve used weak batteries, since they wouldn’t have known when to listen, specifically, so they would have wanted any bugs to be active for as long as possible.”

“Okay, so that just leaves the possibility that there was never a bug here in the first place”, Timmy followed up. “You think they were listening with one of those dish thingies?”, he asked Dad.

“A parabolic dish”, Dad said, filling in the proper term, “is possible, but unlikely. Those tend to stand out unless you have somewhere hidden, but still with a direct line-of-sight. So, I’d go with clothing, though apparently, not anything anyone in the house has. Since that’s the case, that would actually point very strongly to my clothing, so it’s probably a good thing I suggested that Timmy buy us new clothes. As I said earlier, I’d always intended to check our house and effects for bugs, but in light of not finding anything here, I think it’s more important than ever that we do that.”

So, after having spent all that time at Timmy’s only to find nothing, Dad, Timmy, and I headed back home to see if there was something there, grabbing dinner at a fast food restaurant quickly along the way.

Once we got back home, it didn’t take long to find what we were looking for. A transmitter had been inserted into a small tear in one of the seams of Dad’s favorite winter jacket, and the tear then covered with fabric glue. Even if no one else but Dad’s boss had been in on it, it would’ve been easy for her to accomplish within a few minutes, perhaps under the pretense of dropping off some work while he was out of his office or leaving a note on his desk.

Dad’s face turned purple when he found the bug, and he promptly took it down to his workroom in the basement and smashed it with a hammer. “Well, if they were listening, they know we’ve found it now!”, he stated belligerently. “Doesn’t really matter if they do, though. They’re almost certainly keeping an eye on me at this point, which means they know that I know what happened to Peter. It’s not like you could have shown up here and neglected to mention it”, Dad said, looking towards Timmy. “I’ll have a little chat with my boss first thing tomorrow.”

To be on the safe side, after disposing of the first bug, Dad finished his scan, but that had apparently been the only one.

After Timmy left, Dad and I spent a much more comfortable evening together than we’d had the night before. I wasn’t sure why the whole incest fantasy thing had bugged me so much yesterday, when the two of us had had numerous sessions with Peter already and we’d both known for some time that we’d been fantasizing about one another. I supposed there were bound to be good times and bad, though. Whatever the case, the two of us talked like we hadn’t in some time. There were still moments of awkwardness between us, but they were definitely fading.

When I went to bed that night, masturbating turned out to be much easier than it had been the night before, and I found myself thinking of a hot girl I hadn’t thought of in ages. I played with my ass as I fantasized, which I’d only ever done before in Peter’s fantasies, but it didn’t actually feel too bad. I thought I might even get into it more with a bit of time. Of course, I was only using one finger—the most I felt comfortable with.

Over time, things between Dad and I got even better, just as Peter had suggested would happen back when we’d first met with him. While I accepted that there had been a time in my life where my father and I had fantasized about one another, I knew now that that time was gone. I worried, though, that it might haunt me forever, given an investigation into it by Dad’s colleagues.

Timmy was very supportive throughout the whole thing, coming over every afternoon at first and spending several hours with us each time, though he tapered off once we were through the worst of it. Sometimes, he and I would talk, but surprisingly, sometimes he spent time alone with Dad, too. I didn’t mind, of course. As far as I knew, he didn’t know anything about our incest fantasies, but he knew we’d been seeing Peter for something, and just having him around made it easier to cope with not seeing Peter anymore.

Unfortunately, after he’d talked to his boss, Dad was put on paid suspension pending the outcome of the investigation. He wasn’t one who dealt well with inactivity, and the whole reasoning behind it was unbelievably ridiculous. He was very pissy about everything, and even considered suing for defamation once it became obvious that word about the so-called incest hypnosis had spread beyond just the immediate arresting team.

The newfound comfort level Dad and I had with one another was profoundly demonstrated one weekday a few days after his suspension when I got up with morning wood and made my way, stark naked, to the bathroom, forgetting that Dad was home these days. When I wandered in, I was confronted with the sight of Dad toweling himself off and sporting an erection of his own…whether from the stimulation of washing himself or because he’d been doing something in the shower, I didn’t know.

The two of us went bright red, and then laughed our asses off. There was certainly no thought of doing anything incestuous for either one of us, but we’d come full circle and found a whole new comfort with one another as a result of the entire situation. I was happy that we could both be so calm about it now.

The only thing that marred our renewed relationship with one another was the upcoming trial. With everything Peter had done for us, Dad and I had both offered to be witnesses at his trial and do our best to debunk this ridiculous notion that Peter himself had somehow been responsible for our initial incest fantasies or, even more laughably, the idea that we’d actually had sex with one another at his urging. I hoped our testimony would help, but it really seemed like a dark cloud on the horizon that we’d have to go through all that at some point or another.

One thing was certain: regardless of how it all turned out, Dad was never going to work for the Bureau again.