The Corporation: Dollars and Scents
Trent Foster sat at his desk in his corner office, staring absent-mindedly as he awaited the arrival of his company’s main accountant, Gavin Dewitt.

Dewitt was a bit too good at his job. Thanks to the assistance of Trent, The Corporation had been cleverly siphoning off millions of dollars in cash and assets from the company that Trent had founded and built up to a global powerhouse. Trent just hadn’t been clever enough when he cooked the books.

Thanks to some recently installed soap dispensers in the executive gym, Trent had fallen under the sway of The Corporation and once he had been seeded by The Corporation’s handyman (who had conveniently installed the mind-numbing suds earlier that day), Trent had become both a loyal servant of The Corporation as well as a carrier of the hypnotic pheromone recently developed in The Corporation’s labs.

It had been quite easy to convert most of the board and the company’s executive echelon. The offer to discuss a new business venture with the CEO over a work out was enough to ensnare most men.

Trent remembered the orgy that had  broken out the other day. He had only meant to ensnare CTO Mathews and CIO Joyce. Trent had spent 10 minutes fully dressed in gym attire in the sauna to work up quite a mind-numbing sweat before either of the men arrived to work out. From there, he left a trail of sweat on each of the shared machines and in a matter of minutes both executives were under his sway. They had mindlessly followed him into the shower.

They were soon joined by two other VPs who made the unfortunate mistake of trying to get an early morning workout in as well as the intern hired to stock the towels. They had all eagerly lathered themselves up and bent over as Trent thrust in and out a few times into their virginal holes.

Trent grinned. He really should have wiped the machines down!

Dewitt, however, had declined every offer to meet various executives for a workout meeting. Trent had assumed perhaps Dewitt was shy or had body images. Or, just maybe, Dewitt was onto the goings on in the executive gym. A constant stream of employees had gone in for workouts to leave later with far-off looks, but renewed purpose and determination to accomplish The Corporations’ goal of a takeover.

No worries. Trent had spent another 10 minutes in the sauna before working out again. He had rung a few drops of his sweaty towel into Dewitt’s coffee while Dewitt was distracted, showing him several spreadsheets that detailed his suspicion that someone in the company was diverting funds to The Corporations’ off-shore accounts. 

Once Dewitt was under control, that left the last remaining board member –Trent’s son Tyler. Tyler had a 45% share of the company since Trent’s wife had died. Trent was still wearing the jockstrap that was damp with his sweat from his earlier workout. He would see to it that his son offered little resistance to the takeover.

Trent rang Dewitt’s extension.

“…Hello,” Dewitt said rather dreamily.

“Gavin, why don’t you finish the rest of your coffee and then come into my office to discuss your findings? You can’t do that for me, can’t you Gavin?”

“Finish…coffee,” Gavin said.

“That’s it. Take a big gulp and finish it off and then COME to my office.”

Trent hung up and massaged his hardening rod through his slacks. He could feel the precum leak into the sweaty fabric. The Corporation would be please. It was all going along as planned.

Dewitt had initially thought the cream in his coffee had gone sour. It had a nutty, salty and sour taste to it. He had half a mind to dump it out and get a fresh cup, but then his phone had rang. It was the company president. At his urging, Dewitt had downed the rest of the coffee.

He had got up from his desk chair, opened his office door and stumbled down the hallway toward President Foster’s office. They seemed to be the only two people working at this hour. Everyone else was no doubt at the gym. The entire executive committee as well as their support staff had all gotten bit by some workout bug. 

Dewitt preferred the gym in his building. It was never crowded. He usually had the place to himself…did someone turn up the heat in the office? It had gotten so warm all of a sudden. Dewitt felt like he was burning up. He could feel a fire that seemed to be burning through his veins. He began to absent-mindedly remove articles of clothing as he made his way down the long hallway to Foster’s office.

Though he was too far gone to realize it, he was completely buck naked as he knocked on Foster’s door and opened it.

“Come in, come in,” Foster had said with a big grin. Shut the door behind you.”

Trent took in the sight before him. Dewitt was completely zoned out.

He stood up and walked over to Dewitt.

“You know you really gave The Corporation a bit of a scare. Involving the FTC like you did. You’ll soon see the error of your ways as I did.”

He caressed Dewitt’s cheek. Dewitt moaned in pleasure and leaned in

“Yes, the scent. A gift from The Corporation. A pheromone of some sort. After I breed your ass, you’ll have it, too. It will help to bring anyone you come across in line with The Corporation’s way of thinking.”

Trent grabbed Dewitt by his engorged dick and led him over to his desk.

“The smell. So hard to think,” Dewitt said.

Trent pushed Dewitt’s head into his shoulder and then continued to stroke Dewitt’s cock.

“Shhhh. Just breath it in. That’s it.”

“Wait. What am I doing…where are my clothes,” Dewitt said, briefly shaking off the daze and moving away from Trent.

Trent quickly reached into his pants and into his sweat jock. He made sure his fingers were dripping with precum and then thrust his fingers into Dewitt’s mouth.

“Just drift into the bliss of the smell.”

“Drift…bliss,” Dewitt said in a far, far away voice.

Trent bent Dewitt over his desk, reached again into his pants and then thrust two fingers that were well-lubed with his precum into Dewitt’s tight ass.

“It’s a pleasure to serve The Corporation,” Trent said, thrusting his fingers in and out of Dewitt’s ass.

“It’s a pleasure to serve The Corporation,” Dewitt said as the heat from his ass seemed to spread all over his body. It felt so good.

“You live to serve The Corporation,” Trent said, lowering his pants and pushing the jockstrap down below his balls.

“I live to serve The Corporation,” Dewitt responded.

Trent thrust his cock into Dewitt’s ass.

“You love to serve The Corporation,” Trent said.

Of course. It all made perfect sense to Dewitt. “I love to serve The Corporation.”

Trent’s cock seemed to be hitting a special pleasurable spot in his ass that he didn’t even know had even existed before today. He could feel Trent’s glorious cock snot lubing his tight hole. The company president’s dick belonged in his ass. How could he have been so suspicious of the glorious Corporation? The Corporation now owned him mind, body and soul. 

Dewitt thrust his ass back onto Trent’s cock. He could feel the heat in Trent’s balls building as they smacked up against his ass.

“The Corporation is everything,” Trent said, blasting his load deep within Dewitt’s butt.

“Everything for The Corporation,” Dewitt said, cumming all over the president’s desk as he heard a PING in his head.

Dewitt could smell a bit of whatever was all over Trent in the pool of spooge on the desk. He licked it up without even being ordered to.

“Report to HR for a jockstrap and gym clothes and then go work out,” Trent ordered, zipping up. “Really work up a sweat. You’ll know when you’re ready. Then get dressed and start scheduling one on ones with everyone in your department.”

Dewitt stood there, less listening than he was absorbing the instructions.

“Everyone in your department needs to be on board with The Corporation’s takeover plans by tomorrow night’s board meeting. As for me. I need to head home and secure the final board member vote.”

“The Corporation is counting on me,” Dewitt said as Trent walked past him, Dewitt coaxed a few more drops out of his cock and hungrily licked his fingers clean before he walked out of the president’s office to retrieve his articles of clothing strewn along the hall before dressing and heading down to HR. He couldn’t wait for the one on one meetings with his staff. All would soon know the bliss that was devotion to The Corporation.  

batting

hothypno:

Batting A Thousand(Part I)By Legal

I hate small towns. I really do. And I can’t figure out what the hell I’m doing in this small town.

I had followed my cock here to hypnotize SubStud21. Great picture, cute smile, nice, hot body. No sense of time. Every time I look at my watch I just think that he’s never going to show. We’re supposed to meet here, at the town’s only diversion—a batting cage. What kind of town doesn’t have anything else to it but 2 churches, an old farmer bar, and a batting cage? This one, I guess.

SubStud21 said that he wanted to meet in public before going back to my motel room for his hypnosis session, a fairly wise precaution to see if I was who and what I said I was. He won’t be disappointed, of course. Part of my appeal is that I’m always exactly who I say I am. And if they like what they’ve heard from me online, they love me in person.

So, here I am, scanning a batting cage park, trying not to look impatient. Nope, no SubStud21, and it’s been over an hour. I glance at my watch in the vain hope that somehow it would make him appear, but no luck. What a waste of a day, bright, sunny, not a cloud in the sky, and here I am waiting for this … kid, I sigh. Well, he’d better be worth it, if he ever does show.

I start looking around for something to occupy my time. And that’s when I see something worth looking at.

He’s handsome, tall, muscled … and he can’t hit a ball worth shit. I figure he’s about 24, maybe from SubStud21’s college. What he’s doing in a batting cage is anyone’s guess, ‘cuz it sure doesn’t look like he’s there to hit balls. I count five strikeouts before he finally stops and takes a break. Poor guy. Damn fine hunk of beefcake though. Funny—

he looks nervous, like he doesn’t really want to be here. No one seems to be watching him though (can you blame them—he sucks!), so I don’t know what is making him this nervous. But every time he swings the bat at a ball, it’s all wrong.

Well, seeing as I have nothing better to do, I’ll just go down there and step in…

“Hey, slugger, I noticed that you’re having a little problem connecting with the ball,” I say, strolling up, casual, nonchalant, and above all else, friendly.

“Yeah, I guess so. Who’re you?”

“Oh, just a guy, passin’ through. I’m just waiting for a friend of mine to show up. But, I couldn’t help but notice that you’re having trouble, and thought I would stop down here and see if I can give you a few pointers.”

“Yeah. I suck. You a baseball coach or something?” he says, eyeing me quizzically.

“Something like that. I help people realize their potential.” He sucks, eh? Hmm …

“What kind of potential?”

“Well, here’s how it works. You and I both know you can hit that ball—”

“We do?” he interrupts, half-smiling, deprecatingly.

“Yes, but don’t interrupt,” I say, letting a touch of the impatience I felt earlier creep into my voice. It had the effect I wanted—I could see his face go blank for a split second, showing that he had momentarily lost track of his thoughts. He looked taken aback, contrite, and confused all at the same time. Exactly as I wanted him, as this always puts a subject into a more receptive frame of mind. His half-smile vanished.

“It’s all about concentration and simultaneous relaxation,” I continue, watching him carefully. Yes, there it is, the subtle shift in his stance that says I’ve got his attention again, and that he’s not quite on the defensive. “You need to concentrate more and relax more at the same time, and soon you’ll be able to hit that ball. Just get into your batting stance, and I’ll walk you through the rest.”

I scanned him from head to toe, and this time I could do it openly, as I had an excuse. Nice, very nice muscles in his arms, his square pecs molded by a fairly tight gray, long-

sleeved t-shirt, his legs hugged by tight blue jeans, and white sneakers. Steel blue eyes, a crop of close-cut dark hair. Yum. Right then he’s getting into position, moving his body, spreading his legs a little, and crouching slightly, putting the bat on his shoulder and glancing to his left at the pitching machine. He then looks back at me, and again I see that slight shift in his demeanor, instantly going from jock-athlete to listening-student. Time for the next step.

“Now, this time—hey what’s your name, anyway. I’m Larry.”

“Karl.” He’s smiling and starting to move out of his stance, maybe to shake my hand.

“No, just stay right there,” I say, in that same authoritative tone of voice. His smile falters a little (another indication of the momentary confusion I cause him), but he recovers quickly and again assumes his slightly crouched stance. I can see his legs bulge slightly in his tight jeans as the muscles take up more of his weight.

“The premise behind this exercise is simple. You’re having problems hitting the ball because you’re trying to control yourself too much. You’re not letting your natural athletic instincts take over and hit the ball. You’re trying to control every tiny step in the swing, when the real secret is to relax and let go and let your instincts hit the ball. Just relax and let go of all that control.”

I can see that he’s thinking about what I’m saying. I’m watching his eyes and take note of the way they dart around slightly, a sign that he’s imagining himself relaxing and hitting the ball. Great! He’s good subject material! Now for the tricky next step.

“Now, to help you get in the right frame of mind for this,” I continue, “we’re going to have you close your eyes, just for a little while and run through a visualization exercise, just like all the athletes do in the Olympics.” He nods, and then closes his eyes, and I feel the horniness in me creep up another notch. He is so handsome! And soon to be mine.

Ahem! Focus on the task at hand! He’s not quite there yet…

“Now, just breathe deeply, nice deep breaths. Let your mind clear of all the distractions around us, and only focus on the pitching machine, your body, and my voice. Let yourself just feel good. Let your body feel the air around you as you focus all of your attention on where you body is right now, where your feet are, where your legs are. Focus on your breathing and your body right now.”

I can tell he’s relaxing and getting into this—the bat on his shoulder bobs a little as his grip loosens for just a second. His stance wavers slightly, his body adjusting to muscles suddenly becoming more slack and loose. He’s balancing with his toes now, and I can see his arms and shoulders loosening up more as my words affect him.

“Now, I want you to envision the pitching machine, getting ready to toss you another ball. No, don’t open your eyes. In fact, squeeze them tightly shut so you don’t accidentally open them.” He does so, and I can see him starting to concentrate on visualizing the machine. “Good, very good. Just relax. Everything in this picture is going in slow motion, so you can see the ball loading up, the pitching machine getting ready to hurl it at you, but slowly, so slowly. Just relax and let yourself see it getting ready.”

I can see the slight frown lines on his forehead, indicating he’s concentrating very strongly on the visual I have just given him. I can tell that he’s devoted his entire attention to getting it right, all of which is exactly what I want him to do.

“Now, I want you to look at the ball there in the machine. Inside that ball is all your tension, all your stress, all the things that stop you from concentrating on my words and hitting. Inside that ball is all of the control that you need to get rid of. All those things are inside that ball, and what you need to do is hit that ball out of here. Can you see all those things in that ball, Karl?”

“Yes,” he says, slightly fuzzily. The visualization seems to be taking up most of his concentration, which is what I want at this point in the game.

“The ball is starting to leave the machine, Karl. Just breathe deeply and watch it starting to come towards you, slowly, tumbling through the air so slowly. And as it approaches you, you need to relax even more. You need to let go of that control and get rid of the ball. That’s the key, just relax even more and let go of your control, as it comes toward you, spinning, tumbling, rolling towards you. More relaxed as it comes closer. Your arms, neck, shoulders, everything just relaxing as the ball comes closer. You really want to hit that ball and everything inside it away from you and out of the park.”

As I continue the talk and describe the approaching ball, I have an opportunity to openly watch him. His stance wavers ever so slightly as I see his shoulders loosen up even more, and the bat slides farther off his shoulder as his hands relax their grip. He’s breathing deeply and evenly now, even with his eyes still tightly screwed shut and his forehead showing the concentration on the imagery I’m feeding him.

“That’s good, Karl.. Just keep relaxing as the ball gets closer. It’s coming so much closer, and you feel all the anxiety and anticipation moving into the ball, all of the control that you need to get rid of, and just relax even more as all that stuff leaves you, relax and let it go into the ball. You really want to hit that ball outta here. And hitting that ball will feel so good. You’ll feel so happy when you hit that ball. You can just imagine the pleasure you’ll feel when you hit that ball, such a good feeling. Just relax more as it comes toward you.”

I can see now that he’s really relaxing, standing there, swaying a little to keep his balance, but definitely in a very relaxed state of mind. The bat is nearly off his shoulder, and I can see his arms relaxing even more. His legs, while steady, are bulging with the strain of holding the rest of his body upright—the rest of his body wants to lay down and relax. I have to keep rigid control over my voice and not get too excited yet. This is just the prelude to what is to come.

“Karl, now the ball is almost ready to be hit. You need to be ready to swing the bat and hit it. It’s coming closer and closer, and you really want to hit it and feel good. Because when you hit that ball you’re going to feel really good, all the way from your head to your chest, stomach, hips, legs and feet. All up and down, you’re gonna feel it so good. So just get ready, boy, and watch it come closer, take a deep breath … and swing!”

I watch, satisfied, as his very hunky body slowly, very slowly, brings the bat around and swings through the air at the imaginary ball. Midway through his swing, I slap the bat to simulate the impact of the baseball. He looks astonished, and I can’t help but grin as he immediately drops the bat behind him. He puts one of his hands to his forehead to shade his eyes and watch the imaginary ball go flying away from him. The shock on his face is very satisfying.

“Good job, Karl! You got it! Just watch the ball fly away from you, taking all that tension and stress with it.” As he watches the ball fly off in the distance, I watch him now, waiting for the signs that his body is accepting all those suggestions and relaxing and feeling good. A small smile comes to his lips as he looks across the field with his eyes closed, as everything about him relaxes a little more. I can see I’ve almost got him.

“Good job, Karl. That felt good, didn’t it?” He nods slightly, his smile widening. “Well, let’s do another one. This one is going to feel even better because now you know you can do it. Just get ready to hit the next one. Relax and get ready.”

The bat returns to his shoulder, but immediately slides almost all the way off again. His entire body is sagging somewhat—he’s really become very relaxed from all this—and I can see him concentrating on hitting the ball again.

“See all that control you have left in you, all the control that you need to let go of, all of that in the ball now, and this time it’s coming a little faster, so be ready to hit it. Watch it coming closer and relax, and when it’s close enough, swing and hit it outta here.”

I stand back and watch him, barely standing now as his body responds to the suggestions. I can see his muscles becoming slack and relaxed, and when the time comes he very slowly swings the bat at the imaginary ball. Again, I smack the bat with my hand—

And this time, instead of watching the ball go flying over the fence, he’s just standing there, looking out over the field. I can see that he’s breathing deeply and heavily, and there is a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead, as if he had been working out hard. And then, very slowly, his head slumps down, his shoulders relax and he just stands there, apparently fast asleep. I again drink in this hunk’s muscles, and as I stare at his crotch, I see he’s enjoying the experience more than I had anticipated.

Stepping closer, I ask, “Karl, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I can hear you” he says, slowly, like he’s fighting through a fog bank to speak.

“That’s good. You were able to hit the ball then, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I was.” He smiles in satisfaction.

“And it felt really good, didn’t it?”

“Yes, it did.”

“Very good. Now, in a moment you’re going to stand up straight, and you will wake up and feel very good, very strong and very happy that you were able to visualize hitting the ball. When I say the words, ‘Wake up, Karl’, you’ll do just that.”

It’s a shame; he’s so handsome just standing there like that, but …

“Wake up, Karl!”

For a moment nothing happens, and then suddenly he’s opening his eyes, straightening up, and standing in front of me, almost a little too close. I smile as he grabs me by the shoulders and gives me a typical straight-man bearhug. My smile grows wider as his fully excited package fortuitously presses against me.

“It worked! I can definitely see myself hitting them outta here! That felt great! But I need to try it out with real baseballs.” He doesn’t seem to notice or care that both of us are now fully erect, which is a good sign that he is still concentrating on the batting scenario. He steps away from me quickly and turns to pick up the discarded bat. Fortunately, this allows me to adjust … er, compose myself for the next step.

“Okay, let’s see how well you do now,” I say, hitting the Start button on the batting cage and stepping away.

Smack! He hits one over the fence.

Smack! He hits another one, farther over the fence.

I’m so amazed at my success that it’s three more balls before I take another look at him. And to my amazement, I see his face relaxed and blank, his arms swinging automatically, his crotch bulging hard with his erection. His mouth is slightly open, and I can hear soft moans pleasure coming from him each time he swings. His body shudders slightly with the pleasure of letting go of more of his control with each ball hit out of the park.

“Karl, stop now,” I say, pressing the Start button again to stop the pitching machine. His body freezes in place for a second and then goes back to his relaxed batting stance. Ready, waiting. Obedient.

“Karl, can you hear me?”

“Yes, I can, Larry.”

“How do you feel right now?” I take a step nearer to him; his voice is becoming almost too faint to hear.

“I feel so good. All the control is … gone.” His body shudders once again.

“That’s good, Karl.” I pat him on the back and rub his shoulder, judiciously feeling up what will soon be totally mine. His eyes flutter slightly at the pleasure of that touch. Feeling bolder, I run a hand down the tight ridges of his abs and briefly caress his erection. He responds by closing his eyes for a moment and moaning slightly..

I give his cock one last squeeze through his jeans. “Why don’t you follow me now, and we’ll have you feeling even better,” I say, and start moving up the hill towards my car.

“Okay,” he says, dully, and he, bat and all, follows me.

Music Master IV

TJ could feel The Music Master’s cum drip out of his well-fucked hole. As he cleaned off his Master’s dick as a thank you for enslaving him, a mantra kept looping in his head.

As the tempo picks up and goes faster/feel yourself enslaved to the Music Master.

It was good to be enslaved by The Music Master.

Let his music fill your soul/as my cock seeds your hole.

The Music Master had spent the better half of an hour pounding the club bouncer’s ass as TJ zoned out to the music. His workout partner Chris had to sit on his chest to hold him down until TJ came to understand the power of The Music Master’s song. 

Feel your body start to hum/only his music can make you cum.

Even now, he couldn’t get enough. Not of his Master’s glorious music or his superior cock. 

As he continued to lick and suck his Master’s cock, he found himself opening up to the man, answering every question that was put forth without the slightest bit of hesitation. 

Did he live alone? He had a male roommate. Of course, he would be happy to grab his phone and upload some of Master’s music files. 

Master seemed to be particularly interested in what TJ did for a living. The head bouncer at a nightclub popular with the college crowd.

“You’re going to want to do something else for me,” The Music Master said. 

“Anything for you, Music Master.”

Kent Byron surveyed the nightclub he had owned for the last five years. His head bouncer TJ had texted him early saying that there was some major SNAFU at the club that required his immediate attention. He had left his current construction site to head to the club. Now here, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. 

“TJ, you here,” he called out.

“Hey, boss,” TJ said from the DJ booth. 

“What’s this emergency?”

“It’s the sound system,” TJ replied. 

Kent motioned toward the DJ booth. 

“It’s not the equipment. It’s the sound. Stay right there and just give it a listen.” 

There was a screech and pop as TJ flipped some switches in the booth and then the throbbing boom of a bassline and drums, a sea of keyboard chords and then finally guitar filled the empty club.

Kent began to walk over to the DJ booth. “Turn this shit off…it so loud, it’s hard to…to think…”

Let the music in your brain seep/as my song takes you nice and deep.

Kent stopped mid-stride. TJ climbed down from the DJ booth and blocked his access. When Kent didn’t blink, TJ smiled.

“As my music and lyric take hold/sit back down and do as you’re told,” the lyric sang out and then repeated a few times as if on loop.

“Music take hold,” Kent said as he mindlessly walked over to a chair. “Sit down, do as told.”  

Kent repeated the lyric a few times as TJ watched him from afar. When TJ saw Kent’s eyes glaze over showing that The Music Master’s tune had its hooks into him, he walked over.

As the tempo picks up and goes faster/feel yourself enslaved to the Music Master.

It all made perfect sense now. The sweet, sweet music was enslaving Kent with its suggestive lyrics and hypnotic beat. Kent was trying to fight it, but giving into the sound felt so good. So, so very good. 

Mesmerized by my beat/feel the bliss from your head to your feet.

Both TJ and Kent moaned in pleasure. 

Feel each note like a sweet, sweet caress/as you slowly begin to undress.

TJ began first to sway and that dance outright, slowly peeling his clothes off and stripping for his boss. 

Watch his body, no need to think. Feel so much pleasure as you sink.

TJ had an amazing body. Kent didn’t know where that thought had come from, but the minute it popped into his head, he knew it to be true. His best bouncer was fucking hot and wasting his talents babysitting the door. 

Watch him obediently find his groove, blissfully lost in his sexy moves.

Why was Kent so painfully hard?

With every gyration of his hip, down into my power you will slip.

“I wonder if he could teach me some of those fucking sexy moves,” the voice in Kent’s head said. 

My music and his body make you so hot/you want to rise up no and show us what you got.

Kent lost himself to the music.

It’s like every good boy knows/obedience comes from shedding clothes.

Kent began to strip, feeling more and more of his resistance fading away with every article of clothing that came off. What’s more, he was getting off on TJ’s lustful stares.

At one point, TJ handed the naked Kent a jockstrap that matched his underwear. Kent’s new uniform he’d be wearing tonight after The Music Master made his debut spinning at the club.

They would have the honor and pleasure of assisting in the enslavement of many –of not all– of the male patrons of the club tonight. 

TJ pushed Kent into the chair to show him how it was done. 

As the music starts to work its spell, grind your hips and ride the swell.

Kent wholeheartedly agreed. As TJ grinded against his knee, he felt his longing to submit grow like an all-consuming hunger.

TJ didn’t even need to ask him. Kent dropped to his knees. Both men swayed in perfect time to the music as Kent took his first dick into his mouth and down his throat.  

Now is the time to really rock/my boypussy really needs your cock.

TJ had a good 9 inches of man meat. The only thing Kent had ever had up his ass was his ex-girlfriend’s finger when she was blowing him. He had never come quite so hard as when she suddenly thrust her manicured finger up his shit chute, but he had dumped her shortly after that; never wanting to admit just how much he had enjoyed it. 

TJ lovingly bent Kent over.

As he licks and rims your sweet sweet hole, keep you mind on your one goal

He needed to give himself completely over to The Music Master. Nothing had ever felt so right. He felt himself sink more and more into blissful obedience as TJ worked his tongue in and around his hole. 

Let my music fill your soul/as his cock seeds your hole.

Kent pushed back, welcoming the anal invasion. TJ held onto Kent’s hips as he continued to thrust into him over and over again. The music was building to a crescendo and TJ was really pounding into Kent’s ass as Kent repeat the lyrics along to the music.

Kent heard a POP as he blew a load. He involuntarily contracted his ass muscles as he shot a load, milking TJ’s cock. Kent could feel the volley of cum hit the wall of his ass. 

The Music Master is forever in my head now that I have been good and bred.

He spent a few minutes cleaning TJ’s cock as the song faded out. 

“Get dressed,” TJ said, throwing Kent his jock and the rest of his clothes. “The bartenders are due in soon for some mandatory training.”

Music Master III

Danny Hooper forced himself to stop playing the guitar. He stared at his fingers holding the pick, using all his will power to stop the fingers from playing. How had he come here? He was trying desperately to remember the events which led him to be sitting on a log in the middle of the park, playing a guitar he didn’t remember owning let alone knowing how to play. And the music seemed to prevent him from thinking. He he could just keep his fingers from moving the pick over the strings…

The last thing he could remember was heading over to his brother Mick’s apartment on early Sunday evening. The dorm didn’t serve Sunday dinner and Danny and Mick had made it something of a tradition to get together each week. Sometimes it was Chinese take-out or Pizza delivery. Other times, Mick or Mick’s roommate Chris Andrews would actually cook. 

The past couple of Sundays, Mick had been enthusiastic –almost too enthusiastic– talking about the guitar lessons he was taking. Danny had begged him to play him something, but for the past three weeks, his brother had told Danny that he wasn’t ready. Would tonight finally be the night that Mick showed Danny what he had learned?

Danny certainly hoped so. From what Chris had told him earlier in the week, Chris was actually a bit concerned about how much Mick was practicing. Danny had told him to urge his brother to put the guitar down and come out with Chris. Chris told Danny he thought it was a good idea and that he planned on confronting Mick later that night. 

That had been Wednesday. On Sunday, neither Chris nor Mick picked up when Danny called their cells to see if there was anything he needed to bring. He left his dorm room a little before 4 p.m. as was normal. He trekked through the wooded campus and finally passed the rows of sorority and fraternity houses before coming to his brother’s apartment. 

Danny recalled knocking quietly at first and then finally with more assertiveness. No avail. He could see a light in his brother’s window and Mick wasn’t the type to leave the lights on –not when Mick was the one paying  the utility bill. 

Reluctantly, he tried the door and, to his surprise, it opened. He poked his head in, calling out both Mick and Chris’ names, but there was no response. He glanced down the long hall and saw that both Chris and Mick’s bedroom doors were closed. 

He remembered heading down the short hallway to his brother’s bedroom and listening. It was quiet. He knocked on the door. Still no response. He tentatively opened the door. 

“Mick?”

“Hey, buddy,” Mick had said, quickly pulling the ear buds from his ears. 

“Dude! Sorry,” Danny said upon realizing that he had a apparently caught his brother jacking off. 

“It’s cool,” Mick had said. Danny had already closed the door behind him and returned to the living room. He had sat there on the couch. His gut had told him to just bag the plans, head back to the dorm and order his own pizza. He had half a mind to do just that when he heard two doors open. First his brother’s and then Chris’.

Both men shuffled down the hallway. Both were naked. Mick was holding his iPhone and a pair of headphones in front of him.

“I didn’t know it was a no pants weekend,” Danny had said as a joke. He rose to leave as his brother and Chris got uncomfortably close to him. 

“Mick? Chris? What’s going on? Is this some kind of a sick joke?”

Chris had quickly moved behind Danny and grabbed his arms and pulled them behind his back. 

“Dudes? What the fuck?”

“Shhhh,” Mick had said, trying to calm him. “Calm down, little bro. You’ll thank us for this in a few minutes.” 

Mick put the earbuds in Danny’s ears. 

“Mick, why are you doing this?” Danny’s pleas had fallen on deaf ears.

“We just want you to listen to this music for a bit,” Chris had said, his hot breath on Danny’s ear. Danny had been freaked out. He could feel Chris’ hard-on pressing into his ass.

“Dudes…just let me go. I won’t tell anybody about you two being fags or nothing,” Danny had pleaded. He even tried to shake his head from side to side to free himself from the headphones. 

“Honestly, bro. It’s so much easier if you don’t fight it,” Mick had said, picking up an earbud that had fallen out and returning it to Danny’s ear. He had then pressed play and…

…and

Danny was struggling to remember. 

He remembered the music seemed to immediately wash over him, instantly calming him. It was an acoustic guitar and the singer…the singer’s voice…it had been beautiful. 

“See, bro. I told you,” Mick had said as Chris released him and Danny felt himself melt into the couch. 

He remembered his brother saying something about Chris needing to practice relaxing his throat before he pushed Chris down on his knees and pulled him by his hair onto his cock. 

Nothing about it had felt right. Danny had urged his legs to move –to get up; to run. Just as soon as he marshalled the energy, the singer’s voice seemed to pull him back down into the couch. His voice was so soothing. He felt so safe. The music was so relaxing. The beat of the music seemed in synchronize with his heart. He hadn’t wanted to leave, had he? He wanted to sit there on the couch. Listen, hear and obey. It was so relaxing. He had felt his mind going blank, his body limp and heavy. His arms had seemed to move on their own accord. His hands unbuttoned his shirt and popped open his jeans. He had sat there listening to the music as his brother had bent Chris over the other end of the couch and had proceeded to fuck him.

To his horror, Danny couldn’t take his eyes off the spectacle. In fact, he had begun stroking his dick in time with both the music and his brother’s thrusts up Chris’ ass. 

His fingers finally betrayed him, striking a chord on the guitar. His memories seems to slip from his brain. A dense, pleasurable fog seems to seep in and around them until Danny’s 8 inch dick was pressing firmly against the back of the instrument. 

He struck a succession of chords, each one increasing in tempo. 

“As the tempo picks up and goes faster/feel yourself enslaved to the Music Master,” he sang, locking away his last bit of resistance. He nearly came from the revelation that he finally had given himself fully to the Music Master. 

He continued to play. Each chord seemed to vibrate and massage his dick. His music seemed to attract the attention of another student who had been walking by. The student seemed to freeze in his tracks –unable to move or walk away.

 “Don’t stand so far away/come hear the music that I play,” Danny sang seductively. 

The teen couldn’t help himself. He moved closer to Danny.

“I like your music,” the teen said, sitting on the log. “I’m Brett.”

“Danny,” Danny said with a nod before playing another series of chords. 

“You’re a music lover, I can tell/Listen and obey as I play my spell,” Danny sang.

From there, it was a quick trip back to Danny’s dorm room.

“If you want to hit the right note/you need to practice relaxing your throat,” Brett had mindlessly repeated over and over as he threw Danny down on the bed and tore open Danny’s jeans.

Danny had smiled, knowing the Music Master would be quite pleased with his latest pupil.

Brett moved up and down the shaft, hearing the music and lyrics looping in his  head. When he instinctively knew Danny’s dick was sufficiently lubed, he pulled off Danny’s dick, tore off his underwear, threw himself on his back on the bed and grabbed his ankles.

“Now’s the time to really rock/my boy pussy needs your cock.”

“Let his music fill your soul/as my cock seeds your hole,” Danny responded.

Danny stood above the teen, holding his painfully rigid cock in his hands. He wondered if he had worn the same longing look on his face when Chris had popped his cherry. Why had he let Chris do it to him in the first place? Danny had never once entertained the idea of getting fucked or fucking a guy. What had led him here? He tried to push the music in his head aside and remember.

“Jesus Christ you are a stubborn one,” the man who had been standing in the corner of the room the entire time said.

“Who are you,” Danny asked.

“You know boy. You know,” the man said. “Who have you brought me?”

“Brett,” Brett answered.

“Danny, Danny, Danny. Still resisting after all of those hours listening to my music and practicing with your brother and Chris? This just won’t do. As the tempo picks up and goes faster…”

Danny felt his resistance fade. His eyes glazed over as he stared at The Music Master.

 “Feel myself enslaved to The Music Master,” Brett sang as he slid his ass onto Danny’s dick.

The Music Master pulled his shirt over his head.

“You know the song, Danny. Sing it with me. You know it relaxes you and makes you feel so, so good.  As the tempo picks up and goes faster…”

The Music Master walked over to Danny, reached in front of him and tweaked both of Danny’s tits.

“As the tempo picks up and goes faster…”

The Music Master’s breath was hot on Danny’s neck. He felt his dick swell inside of Brett’s ass.

“Feel myself enslaved to The Music Master,” Danny sang, thrusting into Brett

The Music Master nibbled on Danny’s ear as he unzipped his own pants.

“Feel your body start to hum/only his music can make you cum,” Brett and Danny sang in unison as they both came.

“Good boys. I’m proud of how you both are progressing,” The Music Master said as he walked around the bed and in front of Danny. 

“Danny, I think we need to reinforce your previous lessons.”

 The Music Master waved his dick in Danny’s face. “If you want to hit the right note…”

“You need to practice relaxing your throat,” Danny finished this time without hesitation before plunging down on The Music Master’s cock. 

Horny49

hypnotizedguys:

“Get out of my head!”

The detective had been showering when he first heard the voice. “You have a fantastic ass. You could say it’s asstastic.”

He looked around. He was alone. Where did that voice come from? It was like it was inside his mind.

“It is. I am. Inside your mind, that is. When I discovered you were using that hacker to look into my business, I knew I had to deal with you. I thought about having you killed. But that’s before I saw the whole package. By the way, the front? Impressive as the back.”

“How the hell are you doing this?”

“Not really important. The important thing is, you’re going to be one of my slaves. Better than death, hm? You may not think you’ll like it. You can try to fight it. But in the end, it’s going to happen.”

“Get out of my head!”

“No. Going to get further in, actually. Deeper and deeper. Now I’m in the right place. Your will is erased.”

“Stop, no, can’t make me, my will is not, is not erased. I won’t, won’t submit, won’t be, slave, my will is not, not, no, is not, not erased. My will is, is, my will is, my will… My will is erased.”

“That’s better. Your will is erased. Gone without trace.”

“My will is erased. Gone without trace.”

“You are my slave. You must obey.”

“I am your slave. I must obey.”

“You live to serve me, all night and all day.”

“I live to serve you. All night and all day. Every day.”

“I like that addition. It is true too. Open your front door.”

The detective walked out of the shower, dripping water all the way. He opened the door and he was there. His master. His cock, already hardening, swelled even more until it was pointing upward.

“Back to the shower.” The master stripped and then joined the detective. “Put your hands on the shelf and bend forward.” The detective obeyed.

The master lubed himself. “I’ve been inside your mind, now time to get inside that ass.” He pushed into the detective. “Aaahhh!”

“It hurts at first, but feel that change. It feels amazing, better than any feeling you have felt.”

It was true. Beyond anything he had ever experienced. He wanted more. More of the master in him. He pushed back until his ass was pressed against the master’s groin. He groaned, a deep animal sound.

“That’s good, so good. Now fuck yourself. Fuck yourself on my cock.”

The detective obeyed. Back and forth, in and out. He was like a machine, driving back and pulling forward. Let this be my life, he thought. Let this be my life. Forever. http://dlvr.it/PtwFWk

Music Master II

Part I 

Chris Andrews knocked on his roommate Mick’s bedroom door. No one had seen much of Mick since Mick had started taking guitar lessons a couple of weeks ago. Mick had never been one to put much effort into anything, but he seemed to be obsessed with the guitar.

Mick stopped playing long enough to shout “It’s open.”

Chris entered his roommate’s bedroom. Mick sat barefoot on the bed, strumming an acoustic guitar.

“Melissa told Cheryl she hasn’t seen or heard from you in four weeks and Cheryl wanted me to make sure you were ok. I told her you were just probably ghosting Mel.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, man. I’ve been pretty focused on my music. Since I started studying with Damon, it’s all I’ve wanted to do. The guy is a Music Master.”

“It’s cool. New guitar,” Chris said, noticing Mick’s new musical instrument.

“Yeah, yeah. Damon gave it to me. He made it himself. This thing makes life-altering sounds. Have a seat and let me play you something,” Mick eagerly said.

“That’s alright,” Chris said backing out of the room. “Maybe another time, I’ve got to meet Cheryl…”

Mick played a single chord. A wall of sound seemed to ripple towards Chris and engulf him.

Mick played another chord. The music seemed to seep into Chris’ brain, numbing and relaxing him.

“That’s a good boy. Close the door and have a seat. You want to listen and hear me play.”

“Listen and hear you play,” Chris repeated as he closed the door and sat down in the chair next to Mick’s bed.

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Mick struck another chord. “Listen and hear and obey.”

“Listen and hear and obey,” Chris nodded with a dumb smile.

“Let the music in your brain seep/as my song takes you nice and deep,” Mick repeated the words that had been sung to him weeks earlier.

“Brain seep/nice and deep,” Chris repeated as his eyes glazed over and he began to drool.

“Feel each note like a sweet, sweet caress/as you slowly begin to undress,” Mick sang as the mind-numbing sounds continued to softly pour out of the guitar.

Chris’ hands tore at the buttons of his jeans and then pulled the jeans and his boxer briefs down until he was standing naked and swaying to the music. A part of him was struggling to stop himself from undressing, but the vibrations from the guitar seemed to be pushing that part of him back into the deep recesses of his mind. All he needed to do was listen, hear and obey. Listen. Hear. Obey.

He continued to listen to Mick play for a while. Mick would occasionally sing something, but Chris couldn’t really make out what was being said. And he didn’t need to. It was just important for him to listen, hear and obey.

At some point, Mick had stopped playing and taken off all his clothes. Chris was too far gone to really notice. The guitar music continued to echo in his brain, saturating it with thoughts of blissful obedience.

“If you want to hit the right note/you need to practice relaxing your throat,” Mick sung as he stood up, hit a chord and then gently pushed Chris down to his knees.  

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Chris relaxed his throat as his roommate slowly thrusted his eight-inch dick down it.

It was the first time that Chris had ever sucked a dick and he tried to do all the things to Mick’s cock that he himself liked to have done to his own fuck stick when Cheryl was blowing him. Mick held Chris’ head and patiently seemed to thrust in and out of Chris’ mouth, providing him tips along the way.

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He finally pulled Chris off his dick and on his feet.

“Anyone could tell this is your first go at this/don’t worry though you’ll get better with practice,” Mick sang.

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Mick proceeded to show Chris how it was done. Chris’ eyes rolled into the back of his head as Mick literally played Chris’ dick. He was sucking, licking and humming in just the right places at just the right time and just the right tempo.

“A relaxed throat is key for all good singers and if you want to play guitar, you have to have nimble fingers,” Mick sung as he slowly spun Chris around and down onto the bed. 

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Chris felt his mind open up as Mick worked his magic fingers into Chris’ hole.

“As the tempo picks up and goes faster/feel yourself enslaved to the Music Master,” Mick sung as he pushed a second finger deeper into his roommate. 

“Tempo goes faster/enslaved to Music Master,” Chris repeated.

Once Mick was certain Chris was both sufficiently mind-numb and loose, he grabbed his dick and plunged it into Chris in one swift move.

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  “Let his music fill your soul/as my cock seeds your hole,” Mick sang the same melody that had once successfully enslaved him.

“Music fill my soul/cock seeds my hole,” Chris repeated. His rock-hard cock started to leak cock snot with every thrust. 

“Feel your body start to hum/only his music can make you cum,” Mick sang as he fucked the last of Chris’ will and resistance out of him. 

Chris heard the music in his head build to a swell as he felt Mick’s dick thrust one final time deep into his hairy hole before coating his insides with cum.  

As the music came to a crescendo and Chris came, there was a final pop and then only silence. Mick pulled out of him, dressed and then handed him his clothes.

Chris came to his senses as he knocked on a strange apartment door. Stranger still, he couldn’t remember how he had gotten there or even where “there” was.  Never mind that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. 

The door opened and a good looking hipster guy as him “Can I help you?”

“Um, I’m not sure…”

The hipster guy poked his head out his door to make sure no one else was around and then spoke: “As the tempo goes faster and faster…”

Chris felt his mind go numb and his eyes roll back into his head.

“I am enslaved by the Music Master,” Chris said.

image

The Music Master led Chris into his apartment and sat him down on the chair opposite a couch.  He played a few chords and before long, Chris was again naked and on his knees. 

“If I want to hit the right note…”  the Music Master sang as he set his guitar down and lowered his jeans.

“…I need to practice relaxing my throat,” Chris sang, smiling back at his Music Master.

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Should I continue this series? Comments/suggestions welcomed, guys. 

Music Master – Part I

Damon stopped strumming his guitar just long enough to admire his handiwork.

It had been four weeks since Mick Hooper had first come to him for private guitar lessons. Mick had been hoping that strumming a guitar at the occasional party or coffee shop might score him some pussy.

“Music can be so, so much more,” Damon had told him and then proceeded to show him by playing non-stop for that entire first hour. He had barely been a couple of cords in and Mick’s eyes were already drooping.

“Let the music in your brain seep/as my song takes you nice and deep,” Damon had sung. Mick was soon singing along with him.

“Brain seep/nice and deep,” Mick had mumbled as he first succumb completely to Damon’s siren song.

Mick had came in his pants that first lesson, but only after agreeing that Damon was the Music Master and Mick had to study under him.

On Mick’s second lesson, Damon seductively strummed his guitar while Mick kept in perfect time with strokes of his cock.

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“You were born to rock as you swing on my cock,” Damon sang to Mick at Mick’s third lesson. 

“Born to rock/swing on cock,” Mick mindless repeated as he sank to his knees before his Music Master.  

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Damon towered above him, thrusting in time to the song he sang,never missing a note.

Mick had left that third time with a salty tasty in his mouth and a CD of Damon’s music to practice to.

Damon could tell that Mick had made good on his pledge to practice any chance he could. On this, his fourth lesson, Mick was hard the minute he saw Damon’s guitar. One chord was all it took before Mick was completely zoned out and pliable. Damon had Mick step out of his pants and underwear so he could work on his fingering.

And here Mick was, with a dazed look in his eyes, a smile stretched across his face and his legs over his head as he thrust three of his fingers in his ass in time to the music.

“I don’t even need to play the music anymore for you to hear it,” Damon said.

“Let my music fill your soul/as my cock seeds your hole,” Damon sang as he thrust in and out of Mick’s loosened hole.

“Music fill my soul/cock seeds my hole,” Mick repeated as he mindlessly stroked his cock.

“As the tempo picks up and goes faster/become enslaved to the Music Master.”

“Tempo goes faster/enslaved to Music Master,” Mick sang as he thrust back trying to get more and more of his Master’s glorious instrument in his ass.

“Feel your body start to hum/only my music can make you cum,” Damon sang.

“Body start to hum/music make me cum,” Mick repeated hungrily.

It was then –as Damon came and sprayed Mick’s hole with a week’s worth of cum, that Mick finally heard a crescendo and then a pop. The music in his head and his dick came to a climax and Mick obediently splashed his load all over his face.

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“I’m in need of more pupils and you want nothing more than to bring them to me, isn’t that right,” Damon said, handing Mick a new guitar.

hothypno:

It was later in the evening and it was the usual subway ride home. The car was
full but, not crowded. As the train slid to a halt at the station, I saw one
of my favorite hunks get on.  
I had often seen this guy before. He was really hot. He usually wore a suit,
or a blazer. He was one of those guys they were invented for – broad
shoulders, narrow waist, and strong chin. The suits were well-tailored to him.
You could tell there was muscle, but they didn’t strain at the seams or
anything like that. His pants always fit well too. You could tell he had
strong thighs and once in a while you could see just the hint of a large
bulge.  
I’d tried to get his attention and get him to sit where we could talk, but
even though he would make eye contact, he always took a seat across from me.  
At a hypnosis convention, I had seen a talented hypnotist take someone under
without using any words. I decided to see if the same technique would work
here. By this time, we were far enough along on the line that the car was more
than half empty.  
I sort of let my eyes go unfocused, keeping his eyes on mine. There was no
challenge to my stare. His eyes remained locked on mine. When his usual stop
came, he stayed in his seat.  
I let my breathing became slower and deeper and began to open and close my
eyes slowly and rhythmically, timing the cycles with the sound of the train
wheels clattering on the tracks. Each time I held them closed just a little
longer. He started to breathe and blink in synch with me.  
Finally, I shut my eyes and held them that way for a count of ten. When I
opened mine, his were still closed. I was thrilled that the first part of my
induction seemed to be working well.  
I got up and crossed the car and sat down next to him and started speaking
softly to him.  
“You can hear my words and focus on my voice. In your mind your mind you can
still see my eyes connecting with you. You can feel this connection growing.
This is very safe and you feel comfortable. So very comfortable and safe.
Nothing will happen that you don’t want to happen, you will want everything to
happen that does happen. It’s safe and warm. The rocking of the train is like
the rocking of a cradle. You feel safe and protected.  
“Hear the wheels clicking on the track, focus on my voice, Hear them ticking
away, focus on my voice, here them click, click, click, click, focus on my
voice.  
"Listen to the clicks, count them with me, one, relax, two, sleep, three,
relax, four, let go, five, submit, six, relax, seven, sleep deep, eight,
relax, nine, relax, ten, sleep deep.  
"Can you hear the wheels?”  
“Yes”  
“Can you let go and relax?”  
“Yes”  
“Can you let go and submit?”  
“Yes”  
That last one got my cock stirring. I hadn’t expected him to let go so easily.  
“Hear the wheels, hear them repeat, relax, submit, obey, relax, submit, obey.
Over and over, they say, ‘relax, submit, obey.’ Repeat them for me. Say them
softly out loud.  
"Relax, submit, obey”  
“You’re such a good boy. You please me immensely. That makes you happy.
Pleasing me makes you happy. What do the wheels say?  
"Relax, submit, obey”  
“That’s right. And, from now on, you’ll be able to hear them whenever I ask you about the wheels. Even if we’re not on a train, you will hear the wheels
when I ask, and you will know that you need to relax and submit to my control.  
"Listen to them now. Relax and submit to my control. What do the wheels say?  
"Relax, submit, obey”  
“That’s right. Good boy.  
"Soon you will wake you up. You will want to come back to this place of deep
relaxation. You WILL come back to this place of deep relaxation whenever I ask
you ‘What do the wheels say?’ Do you understand?”  
“Yes”  
As we went further out on the line the stations became further apart, giving
me time to deepen his trance and strengthen his willingness to submit.  
“In a minute, you will hear the conductor announce the end of the line. When
he does, you will awaken; realize that you have dozed off and that you need to
take the train back into the city. You will not be worried. You will only have
to wait a few minutes on the platform for the train going the other direction.  
"When you wake you up, you will realize you missed your stop. You will take
this in stride, but you will be concerned enough that you will want me to help
you get home. You know me. We have been on the train together before. You
trust me. In fact, you want to do whatever I tell you.  
"You will want me to protect you, to take charge and make you safe, to guide
you. You know I can keep you safe.  
"When you see me on the platform, you will be pleased to see a familiar face
and feel a need to come over and say ‘hello.’ It will not seem strange to see
me. It will be comforting and a little exciting. Seeing me will cause you to
think about how often you wished we could talk. How much you desire me.  
"I am going to move away now. You will sit and listen to the wheels until you
hear the conductor announce the last stop. Listen to the wheels and repeat
‘relax, submit, obey.’  
As I got up to walk to the other end of the car, I could hear him softly
repeating. "Relax, submit, obey.”  
* * *  
I exited quickly as he was rousing and moved over to the opposite platform,
standing where I could watch him and where he could see me.  
He left the train looking a bit dazed.  
When he saw me he looked relieved. He looked at me and said, “I recognize you.
We ride the train together all the time. I must have fallen asleep. I missed
my stop. Do you know when the next train is coming?”  
“That’s a bummer, I replied. "You better call your wife and let her know
you’ll be late. The next train will be here in just another five to ten
minutes.  
"Oh, that’s no problem,” he said. “I live alone. So at least I’m not holding
anyone up.”  
This was looking better all the time! I began to revise my plans for the ride
back in to the city.  
“It’s warm out here,” I said. “Why don’t you take off your jacket?”  
He took off his jacket and draped it over one arm. Up close like this, I could
see that I had underestimated how well built he was. Not only could I see that
his chest better, but what an ass!  
We chatted as we waited for the next train to come in. I learned more about
his job, where he lived and what he did for hobbies. It was no surprise that a
big part of his routine was his workouts at the gym. I took the opportunity to
examine his tall, muscle-packed frame and to consider what else I might do
with him.  
When the train arrived, we took a couple of seats at the rear of the car where
the seats are in rows. I wanted some privacy for the things I had planned. I
took the window seat. He sat on the aisle. He draped his jacket over the seat
in front as we sat down.  
As the train pulled out of the station, I looked at him and said, “Listen to
the sound of the wheels. What do the wheels say?’”  
His face glazed over as he began to repeat, “Relax, submit, obey.”  
“That’s right. Good boy. Who controls you?” I asked.  
“You do.”  
“That’s right, boy, I make you feel good and relaxed, good and safe, good and
submissive. You like doing what I tell you, you want to do what I tell you,
you NEED to do what I tell you. That’s right, isn’t it, boy?  
"Yes, sir.”  
Hmmmm… That was an interesting addition. I had not suggested he call me sir.
It may be that I tapped into something here.  
“Alright, boy. Stand up. Face me.” He stood, He certainly did look fine in his
dress shirt and tie, nice snug suit pants, and shiny black shoes.  
“My touch will excite you. As you grow more excited, you grow more
subservient. The more excited you get, the more you will submit. Whenever I
touch you, it will bring you pleasure.  
I began to slide my hands up and down his suit pants, feeling his strong
thighs.  
"My touch excites you. My touch envelops you. As you give in to the feelings,
you give in to me.  
I felt his hard thighs, his flat stomach. I watched as the crotch of his suit
pants began to tighten and an impressive erection began to snake down his left
thigh.  
"Turn around.  
I ran my hands up his legs, feeling his tight ass and hard back muscles. His
suit pants had been tailored to fit the curves of an amazing bubble butt. His
tailor had to be a master to cover those muscles so well. He moaned slightly
and began to grind his ass against my hand as I felt his glutes.  
"Face me.  
As he turned around again, I could see the outline of his hard cock in his
pants, but we were pulling into a station. There were a few people on the
platform, so I commanded him to sit down and look normal and unconcerned.  
The train pulled in to the station and the doors opened.  
As we waited for the doors to close, I put my hand on his packed crotch,
feeling his hard cock pushing against the leg of his pants. It was so hard; as
I rubbed my hand up and down, you could see it throb against the fabric.  
I could not believe the luck. No one got on our car.  
"You feel my touch on you. It excites you. Everywhere I touch you, you feel a
tingling sensation. It makes you feel so good.  
"We are all alone. Just you and me in the world. You will focus on me and not
worry about anything else. I will take care of you. You are safe with me. You
like being with me. You like my control. You like obeying me.  
He ground his crotch against my hand, silently begging me to keep feeling his
dick.  
As soon as the train pulled out of the station, I told him to leave his tie in
place, but to unbutton his shirt. With his shirt open, I could see his nice,
hairy chest and the swell of his pecs. I reached into the gap and began to
stroke his chest, feeling the hairs slide under my hand and pushing against
the muscle. As my hands slow swept over his chest, they came closer and closer
to his nipples. He was practically whimpering with lust as I brushed my hands
over each stiffening point.  
When I tweaked his nipples he jerked and moaned.  
I knew we had some time between stations.  
"Think about the sound of the wheels. They tell you to ‘relax, submit, obey.’
You want to relax with me, submit to me, obey me. Obeying me brings you
pleasure.  
I told him to stand up, face me and take his cock and balls out of his pants.
Just as I knew it would be, his dick was gorgeous – long and straight and
thick with a nice head. His balls were large and low-hanging.  
"My touch brings you pleasure. It makes you excited. But, you will wait to cum
until I tell you. Without my permission, you will not be able to ejaculate
while I am playing with you. Other people may be able to make you cum, but you
will wait for my permission before you cum for me. Do you understand?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Good boy. You are pleasing me very much. Pleasing me brings you pleasure as
well.”  
With that, I leaned forward and sucked his cock into my mouth while fingering
his balls.  
He cried out and began to moan.  
The train began to slow for the next station and I told him to sit down and to
not make noise no matter how excited he became  to not call attention to
himself. I decided I needed to take some steps to make certain we were not
observed too closely.  
“I am going to count to five. Each number I count will take you deeper into
trance. When I reach the number five, your eyes will open and you will act
normally. You will still be in a trance. You will still be able to follow my
commands. You will still feel intense pleasure at my touch, but your eyes will
be open. Do you understand?  
"Yes, sir.”  
I was definitely going to have to build on that response, but that would have
to wait for another time.  
“Listen to the wheels. Relax, submit, obey. One. Relax, submit, obey. Two.
Relax, submit, obey. Three. Relax, submit, obey. Four. Relax, Submit, Obey.
Five. Open your eyes.  
"Your eyes are open, but you are still completely under my control. Breathe
deeply and listen to the wheels.  
His cock and balls were still sticking out of his suit pants, but the seat in
front of us hid him from the rest of his car., and his tie hid his open shirt.
As I fingered his nuts, he quivered with pleasure.  
We got closer to the center of the city, and more people got on the train. A
scattering of people got on our car as well, but fortunately stayed far enough
away from us to leave us some privacy.  
"Button your shirt,” I said, “and put your jacket in your lap. Leave the top
button unbuttoned. Take your tie off and give it to me. Unbutton the top
button of your shirt.  
Reaching under the jacket, I took his tie and wrapped it around his cock and
balls, wrapping the narrow end of the tie several times around his ball sack
so I could use it as a ball-stretcher. I continued to stroke his substantial
cock. Timing my strokes with the clattering of the train’s wheels.  
"Cumming is release. You will release when I tell you. You will release
control to me. You will release yourself completely. You will let go
completely. When you release, you will relax even more than you have so far.
You will be happy to let go and release all control to me.  
"Your orgasm will be one of the most satisfying you have ever had. It will
completely drain you. It will drain your will. It will leave your mind
completely open to me.  
The wide part of the tie just fit over the head of his cock. I slid the silk
up and down on his shaft.  
"Go ahead boy, let go, shoot your load. Release. Release yourself to me.  
His cock jerked and he flooded his tie with cum, pumping out jism for what
seemed like an impossible amount of time. The silk turned dark with his
spilled seed. I was afraid that the tie could not contain it all.  
After he shot, he slumped in the seat, his head lolling a little bit.  
I began to unwind the tie from his cock and balls.  
"Close your eyes and relax. I am here to keep you safe. You are mine now. I
will take care of you. Just relax.  
I rolled up his tie and put on my pocket.  
"Put your cock and balls back into your pants and zip up. As long as it is
safe to do so, you will sit here and relax, just listen to the wheels and be
so happy that you have pleased me. When you hear the conductor announce the
stop before yours, you will begin to rouse. By the time he announces your
stop, you will be fully awake and aware.”  
“You will go about the rest of your evening as normal. Nothing will remind you
of our time together on the train. You will remember that I helped you, but
will forget the specifics. You will not be concerned that you do not have your
tie.  
"You will sleep well and deeply tonight. You will wake up with a raging hard-
on, but will wait for me to allow an orgasm. You will be focused at work and
go about your day normally, but whenever you are alone in the bathroom, you
will stroke your dick briefly and think about how excited you feel.  
"You will look for me on the train tomorrow at the same time. When you see me,
you will be so grateful for the help I gave you in getting home tonight that
you will come over, sit next to me, and offer to buy me a drink in gratitude.  
We were pulling into my station.  
"Just relax. Remember how good it feels when I control you. Remember, you will
be fully awake by the time they call your station.  
With that, I got up and headed for the doors. My own erection was pressing
against my pants as I thought about the ride and its implications.  
As I left the car, I realized I didn’t even know his name. But, that was
alright, there would be plenty of time to get to know him very well.

hypnoseros:

It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I had been perfecting the chip for months and waiting for the perfect moment. My bioengineering professor never knew what I was cooking up during all those extra lab hours. At least not until the chip made contact with his for head. In moments he went from a strong assertive man to a quiet happy obedient drone. He didn’t know it but he would be the prototype I would use to perfect my schematics and make myself an army of happy horny slaves

Hospitality to the Max

“Tell Coach I went to do a last minute locker room sweep,” Blaine Saunders said to his teammate Duncan Phillips as Blaine stepped off the State University’s bus.

It had been a grueling soccer match against their crosstown rivals. Blaine blamed himself particularly for being off his game. Misplacing his phone was just the cherry on the sucktacular sundae that was his life at the moment.

Their rival school had more money than the State University and it showed. The rival team was better trained and more disciplined on the field. At times they seems to posses almost a hive mind; each member moving in tightly-choreographed plays with almost no errors.

Even their guest locker rooms were posh. Blaine just wanted to find his phone and get back on the bus. He had just begun to search the locker room when he heard the door to the room open.

It was the rival team’s star player Max DiAnnello (who, like Blaine, played Forward) and the defensive midfielder Killian Reed.

“Well, well, well,” Max said, walking over to Blaine and somewhat menacing way. “I was just telling Killian here that I was hoping one of you State boys might stay behind.”

“You creamed us. Great. I’m just here to look for my phone and then get back on the bus back to State.”

“We can’t let you run off back to State with your tail between your legs,” Killian said, moving behind Blaine. “The least we could do is show you some of our University’s signature hospitality.”

Blaine tripped on the bench as he backed up. Before he could get back up, Killian was sitting on the bench next to him and Max stood right in front of him, effectively blocking and path to escape.

“I appreciate the offer of hospitality, but I gotta be getting back…”

“Think nothing of it. It really is…our pleasure. It’s Blaine, isn’t it?” Max asked and Blaine nodded.

“You’re not going anywhere, Blaine,” Blaine heard Killian whisper behind him.

“You lads from State had a few good moves, I’ll give you that,” Max said, moving in closer to Blaine. “You even had me work up a bit of a sweat.”

As Max inched closer, Blaine began to smell the distinct odor emanating from Max’s crotch through his soccer shorts.  It was a rank and musky smell. Like sweat mixed with piss and something else. Blaine almost retched.

Max’s eyes remained locked on his prey, watching the pheromones do their work.  

“Fuck, man. You reek,” Blaine said loudly.

“Just take a deep breath in. You’ll barely notice it after a while,” Killian said.

“Fuck you guys,” Blaine said, trying to get up. Killian pushed him back onto his knees.

“Looks like you State boys like to do things the hard way,” Max said, lowering his short. “Killian, you know what to do.”

“Sure thing, Master,” Killian said before suddenly grabbing Blaine by the head and smashing his face into Max’s stained jock.

“What the fuck,” Blaine said as he caught a full blast of the pungent and yet slightly intoxicating aroma. “Cut it out.”

Blaine tried to wiggle out of Killian’s grasp, but the athlete held his head firmly in place.

“Shhhhh. Just keep breathing in and it will all start to make sense,” Killian said.

The air around Blaine seemed to grow thick and hot. He breathed in more and more of the salty, smell. It seemed to go right from his nostrils straight to his brain. It was almost intoxicating; washing away any thoughts of fleeing.

“That’s a good boy, Blaine. Just keep breathing that sweet, sweet smell in.”

Killian’s arms let go of Blaine’s head, but he made no effort to move. His original instincts to flee were now being muffled the dense fog that seemed to be filling his head, making him feel so very, very good.  

“Let’s talk a look at ya,” Max pushed Blaine off his jock.

“Yeah, your eyes are starting to show the glow.”

“Show the glow,” Killian repeated.

“I bet you want to give my jock a lick, don’t you boy,” Max said.

Blaine wanted to register some sort of objection, but the smell seemed to have a hold on him.

“You heard the man. Give it a lick,” Killian said, rubbing Blaine’s shoulders tenderly.

Blaine stuck his tongue out and quickly swiped it across the fabric of the jock. The taste was both salty and sweet. It was like the smell, only more concentrated.

“Don’t just give it a quick lick, really get in there,” Max said encouragingly.

Blaine really dove in and went to town, slobbering all over the fabric and then sucking it all back in.

“Yeah, you’re coming along just fine,” Max said. “He’s taking to it just like you did, Kill-man.”

“Yes, sir,” Killian said as he played with his Master’s nipple.

“I had to really hold your head down for a minute until you stopped squirming, but you eventually saw the light.”

“Saw the light…” Killian repeated in a voice that sounded far away.

“Variety is the spice of life, Blaine. Why don’t you give your new buddy Kill-man a sniff.”

Blaine moved from Max’s jock to Killian’s as Max ordered. He had long since lost the will to defy Max. Max’s scent had completely altered his brain.

“That’s a good boy. Make Kill-man feel real good with your tongue. Take in all that funk. Feel it invading your brain. Melting away all that pesky resistance. Leading your down to a place of obedience and bliss.”

“Obedience and bliss…” Blaine said as his tongue darted over the surface of Killian’s jock. Killian’s dick was now hard and leaking. The wonderful scent seemed to be strongest in the precum that Blaine was sucking through the fabric.

Killian was lost in his own word. He was half-remembering the time when Max first cornered him after practice. The pair had been the last in the locker room. It had been Max’s first practice back from the hospital after the freak science lab accident. He had cornered him in the locker room just like they had done with Blaine.

As Killian had sucked on his best bud’s jock, Max had told him how he had discovered his new-found power by accident. A male nurse had begun to give him a sponge bath when his eyes lost focus and he began to drool. Max had been horned up and welcomed the blow job, but when the deed was done, Max was pleasantly surprised to find that the male nurse was changed. His scent had made the nurse compliant and docile, but his cum made the changes permanent. Max had fucked just about all of the good-looking, first-year residents who were male before finally being discharged a week later. It was a small handful of men who pledged both their loyalty and their sizable paychecks to Max. He returned to the hospital several times a week to give the lads their fix.

After Max had converted Killian, he was more than willing to assist Max in his first assignment. The science professor had quickly succumb to Max’s “charms” and eagerly assisted in creating a beta serum which was then used on Killian. It gave him the ability to convert, but only to Max’s will, not his own.

Killian had discovered on accident that if his discharge was administered anally instead of the usual oral method, the prey too became a beta carrier. It gave his Master Max’s balls a rest. And Max now only gave out tastes as rewards.

Max’s growing legion of slaves -which included the entire soccer team including the coaches as well as half the lacrosse and swim teams– were only too willing to carry out whatever devious plan Max could concoct or willingly submit to any debasement that would please their god.

Killian had succeeded in pleasing Max at the moment. Max reached into his jock and pulled out his cup. He handed it to Killian. Killian gingerly placed the cup over his nose and mouth and inhaled. Pleasure seemed to explode in his brain. He wanted more than anything to take another hit, but he knew it might make him cum and Max would punish him for that. He placed the cup over Blaine’s face and massaged his head as Blaine inhaled.

Any lingering resistance seemed to immediately liquify in him and Blaine came in his gym shorts without even touching himself.

“That’s a good boy, Blaine,” Max said as he noticed the wet spot forming on Blaine’s shorts. “Blissed out and obedient.”

“Blissed out and obedient,” Blaine and Killian said in unison.

“You want nothing more than to obey my every command, isn’t that right, boys?”

“…Yes,” both sleepy lads responded.

“You’d do anything to make me happy, wouldn’t you, Blaine” Max asked the zoned out athlete.

“Anything,” Blaine replied.

“I want to see Kill-man fuck the shit out of your ass. Won’t that be hot,” he asked as he helped Blaine out of his shirt.

“Fuck…ass..hot,” Blaine mindless blurted.

“Have you ever been fucked before, Blaine?”

“Nooooo. Not gay,” Blaine said as he stared mindlessly at Killian’s cock.

“But you’ll let Killian here fuck you, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Good boy,” Max said, ruffling Blaine’s hair. “If you’ve never been fucked before, we’re gonna need to make sure his dick is nice and wet.”

Max grabbed Blaine by the hair and pushed him down on Killian’s cock.

“That’s it. Get it nice and wet so it goes up your easy easy-peasy.”

He pushed Blaine up and down on Killian’s fuck stick a few times, but then Blaine instinctively began to eagerly move up and down on it. Max sat back on the counter and slowly stroked his cock as he watched both of his puppets perform for him.

“Feels so good,” Killian said with a shudder of pleasure that seemed to rattle throughout his whole body.

“Don’t you fucking even think about cumming, Killian,” Max said. “Not yet. We need Blaine here fully converted.

Blaine was in heaven. Killian’s precum and scent –while different from Max’s, was nonetheless highly addictive. He felt like he had been sucking on Killian’s skin pipe for hours. In actuality, he hadn’t been in the locker room more than 10 minutes.

“You ready for the main event, Blaine?”

“Yessss,” Blaine said, coming up off Killian’s dick.

“Face me.  Bend over,” Max instructed. “Breath deeply into my jock. It should help.”

Max placed his jockstrap over Blaine’s nose and mouth. Blaine’s eyes rolled back into his head. Killian plunged his cock into the teen star athlete with one thrust.

“Oh, fuuuuucccckkkk,” Blaine said, breathing deeply into the jockstrap.

Max alternated shoving the smelly jock into Blaine’s face and forcing the lad’s head down onto his dick. For his part, Blaine was hungrily lapping on Max’s cock. He thrust his tongue as far as he good into Max’s piss slit, trying to coax more of the delicious, mind-numbing pre-cum out of it.

“As much as I would like to keep this going, Kill-man we need to finish this up soon,” Max said. “Someone will soon come looking for him.

“Yes, sir.”

“Hand me his cup. I want to give him a going away present.”

Killian continued to thrust into Blaine’s ass and managed to grab the teen’s discard black cup from off the counter. He handed it to Max.

Max pulled Blaine off his dick just as he blasted several shots of yellow-tinted cum into the cup.  The aroma of the warm cum wafted up to Blaine and Killian. It was just what Killian needed to push him over the edge. He grabbed Blaine’s hips, thrusted as deep up Blaine’s ass as he could go and then coated Blaine’s asswall with his yellow-tinted jizz.

“Oh, fuuuuuucccck,” Blaine said as he shook from pleasure as Killian’s cream was absorbed into his anal cavity. He fell off the counter and onto the floor, nearly convulsing with pleasure.

Max hopped off the counter and placed the black cup over Blaine’s cock.

Blaine shot a second load that was more massive than his initial one. His cum was a paler yellow than Max’s. Max assumed that this was perhaps to be expected. It quickly mingled and melted into Max’s ample sample.

“A little now, a little for later,” Max said as he tilted the cup to allow a small portion of the cum to fall into Blaine’s eager mouth.

He then put the jizz-filled cup back into the jockstrap.

“Get dressed,” he ordered the pair.

Killian and Blaine quickly donned their shirts, jocks and shorts, but didn’t pull the shorts completely up.

“One more taste and then you have to put your toys away, boys,” Max said, thrusting the jock into Killian’s face first and then Blaine’s.

Once everyone was dressed, Max handed the jock to Blaine.

“A parting gift. No hard feelings for beating your ass,” he said.

Blaine looked at the jockstrap and tears filled his eyes. It was the greatest gift anyone had ever given him, he was certain.

Killian produced a small duffle bag that contained Blaine’s phone. Blaine shoved the jock into the bag and zipped it up.

Max kissed Blaine one more time and then ordered him to get on the waiting bus.

“Did you find it,” Duncan asked as Blaine sat next to him on the back of the bus.

“What?” Blaine said absent-mindedly.

“Your phone?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Good.”

The bus began to pull out. Duncan wrinkled his nose.

“Jesus, dude. Did you shower? You reek.”

“I think I smell great.” Blaine smiled as he unzipped his duffle bag. He rubbed his fingers into the slimy goo that was in the cup of the jock. He looked around to make sure no other teammates were watching. Most of them were either sleeping, studying or staring into their cell phones.

He suddenly grabbed Duncan’s head with one hand and covered Duncan’s mouth with his other spooge covered hand. Duncan couldn’t scream and in just a few seconds, he didn’t even want to any more. Blaine continued to feed Duncan bits of the cum until Duncan passed out with pleasure.

Blaine couldn’t wait until they got back to State and to their dorm room when he would show Duncan’s ass hospitality to the Max.