Flashing Lights (mm hypno)
by Cop_Controller
I admit I was speeding.
As if you haven't done the same thing on a cold wet night when you're desperate to get home into a nice warm bed.
I didn't plan on what happened next though-not in my wildest dreams.
As I said, I was speeding down the highway, coming back into the city from some godforsaken little town, when I saw the flashing lights in my mirror, and I knew I was caught. The rain had stopped, but I figured any cop has got to be holed up somewhere with a couple of doughnuts and a copy of Biker Chicks.
But not this guy.
I pulled over, he pulled up on his bike, and came over to my window.
"What's the problem, Officer?" I said in my most ingratiating voice.
"Could you get out of the car please sir."
Now that was just plain nasty. I knew I had been speeding, so there was no reason for me to leave the warmth of the car and just stand out there to entertain this guy.
I thought, "Just give me the ticket and fuck off."
I said, "Sure thing, Officer."
When I got out of the car, I had a good look at what I was up against. He was big and well muscled. His uniform stuck to him in all the right places, and his long black motorcycle boots glistened in the night air. He must have been about thirty-five, but looked good. He had a brownish coloured moustache and what seemed to be bluish eyes. What can I tell you? It was dark, and he still had his helmet on.
He might have looked good enough to eat, but he had an attitude right out of redneck city.
"Could you breathe into this bag, please sir."
God, now he was going to try and pin some drink driving thing on me. I was getting pretty pissed, but then I noticed something really crazy.
The flashing blue light from his bike was hitting my windshield, my side mirrors and the puddles on the road to create quite a wild, freaky pulse. It was hard to explain, but the back part of my brain began to ache.
Although it was starting to get to me, it seemed to be having a more intense effect on my cop friend. Maybe it was a reflection going from his bike's visor down into his eyes, or maybe the reflections were different from where he was standing. He looked positively woozy.
"Are you alright, Officer?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine ...
He sort of trailed off, and I wondered if he was going to fall over.
Now, I don't know why I did what I did next. It just seemed the right thing to do at the time. I assure you, I didn't do it on purpose.
"That's okay, Officer. Just relax. Let the lights wash over you. Let the warm blue colour just wrap you up, like a nice warm blanket."
I don't know why I was coming on like some cheap hypnotist, but it just felt right. And he did relax. And I think he did let the blue light wash over him.
"That's it. Just relax. Slow your breathing down to match the light. Breath in . that's right. Now breathe out. Good."
He was standing there and slowly dozing off. It was a good thing that the road was deserted at this point in the story. Not that anyone would have stopped to look at a highway cop giving a ticket, but the flash of some extra headlights may have snapped him out of it-whatever 'it' was.
Now, my knowledge of hypnosis only extended to what I'd seen on TV or at the movies, so I used what little I did know to take him further 'down'. I worked a while with his eyes open, mainly because I didn't know what would happen if he closed them and couldn't see the lights anymore. But when I did get him to close them, he still stayed relaxed.
"Officer, you are now deeply asleep, but you can hear my voice. You are hypnotised. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"You can hear my voice, and you will do everything I tell you to. Do you understand that?"
"Yes."
Not great conversation, but it was definitely getting me turned on.
I had him walk over to the front of my car, so I could see him in the light. He was well built, and all his leather bits shone with a high polish. I had him take his helmet off, and I could see that his hair was a light brown.
"I want you to answer some questions for me, please Officer. What's your name?"
"Oliver Benton."
"Oliver? Not a very butch name. Is that what your friends call you?"
"No, sir. My friends call me Meatball."
"Why Meatball?"
"Because of the size of my dick."
That was putting it bluntly. This was something I needed to see for myself. But first things first.
"Officer Meatball, is anyone expecting you back at the station? Do you have to report in or something?"
"My shift finishes in an hour. I gotta go back to the station and sign out."
"But no one will miss you until then? Or come looking for you?"
"Nah. Don't usually call in unless there's some emergency."
Great. I had an hour. And even though I would have loved to have taken him back to my place and done the deed with him all night, I had to settle for my car and sixty minutes.
"Officer Meatball, would you mind getting your dick out so I could have a look at it?"
"Sure." He seemed quite agreeable, but I just put that down to the trance. Or did he always go around showing off his tool to complete strangers?
He unzipped hi fly and manhandled his rod out into the open. It was quite a magnificent size, even flaccid like that.
"Could you rub it a bit and get it all hard for me?"
"Well, okay." He was slightly reluctant, and I wondered how far I could push this thing before I got to something he refused to do. I would have to move a bit more slowly, a bit more carefully.
In the meantime, he had been rubbing his pole, and it did look majestic. His balls had popped out as well, and the size of his equipment would make his locker room buddies green with envy.
"Excellent. You just keep it sticking out and hard while we continue our conversation.
"Okay."
I leaned back against the hood of the car, folded my arms and looked at my spotlighted cop.
"Meatball, have you ever had a blow job?"
"Sure. Lots of times."
"From a guy or from a girl?"
"From a girl, of course." Even through the trance I could hear his homophobia shining through.
"A girl, of course. Listen, Meatball, do you think these girls enjoyed giving you a blow job?"
"Yeah, sure. They love my dick." Deep under hypnosis, the cop was showing no redeeming qualities whatsoever. This made what I did next much easier.
I walked over to him and placed my hand on the back of his neck. I could feel his slow pulse through my palm as I got in close and talked intensely into his ear.
"Oliver, these girls did love your dick. And do you know why? Because sucking a dick is the best feeling in the world. Having that huge chunk of warm meat pushing down your throat is the most fantastic thing ever." He looked slightly puzzled, but he was in agreement.
"Not only that, but these women all love being fucked because being fucked is a hundred times better than fucking. Did you know that?" I leaned in closer so that my lips were right next to his ear.
"It's the biggest secret in the world. Women don't want men to know, but I'm telling you, Oliver. Sucking and being fucked are a million times better than anything you've ever experienced in your entire life."
I stepped back to see what effect my words were having on him. He seemed to be puzzled, thinking about what I said, but then his face flattened back out into hypnotised blankness. I suppose I should have just said "You will suck me off," but I felt that a more permanent change was necessary.
"Okay, Officer Meatball, why don't you tell me what the best sex is in the whole world."
"Sucking a man's dick, or getting fucked." He said this without batting an eyelid. Maybe my quick message got through on some level.
"So, do you think you would like to give a man a blowjob and see what it's like?"
"No. All the guys would call me a fag." He looked very put out. I was amazed, though, that he'd put his reputation with his mates before what he now believed was a great physical experience.
"But the guys wouldn't have to find out. I mean, that's why you stopped me, wasn't it?"
"Huh?"
"Yes, Meatball, I wasn't speeding. The reason you work late at night out here by yourself is so you can stop male drivers and ask to suck them off. Or get them to fuck you."
"Fuck me?"
"Yes, Oliver. Being fucked is great. You just said so yourself."
"But I can't be fucked. I haven't got a cunt."
Sometimes you forget just how stupid someone else can be. It's not until some shop assistant looks at you blankly, or you get a letter from your bank about a bill that you've paid that you realise that the world is full of people who live in their own little worlds and never bother to think outside the box.
"Men get fucked up the arse, you idiot." I tried to calm down. "Oliver, one man sticks his dick into another man's arse, and it's just like a woman's ... cunt ... but hundreds of times better. Do you understand?"
"Yeah. I guess so."
"So, to return to the matter at hand. You travel the highways at night, looking for men who are driving by themselves. You pull them over and pretend that they were speeding or their lights aren't working or something like that. Then you offer to let them off with a warning if you can suck their cock or if they will fuck you. Do you understand that?"
"Yeah."
"And then when you've got that dick in your mouth or up your crack, you feel great. It's the best thing you have ever felt. You could do it all day. When they come, it's even better. The taste of cum is so fantastic, you can't get enough of it."
I was pacing back and forth as I explained all this to him. I had him repeat a few things to make sure he had got it all. I then told him he could either just keep it a secret thing he did here, or he could go to other towns and do it on his days off, or if he wanted to, he could tell all his policemen friends and see if they wanted his services.
When I was finished, it was time to put the plan into action. I brought him slowly up from his deep trance, and sent him back to his bike, with instructions to wake up as soon as he sat down, and believe that he had just this minute pulled me over. I got back behind the wheel of my car.
In my wing mirror, I could see him walk back to the bike and throw his leg over. As soon as his butt hit the leather, he got off again and walked over to me.
"What's the problem, Officer?"
"You were speeding, sir. Do you know what the speed limit is around these parts?" He was talking in his most officious police officer voice. At least I could relax about the hypnosis, as he didn't seem to remember anything happening. Even if my suggestions didn't take hold, at least I wouldn't be arrested for interfering with an officer of the law.
"Well, according to my equipment you were going well over the limit."
"Please, Officer, I won't do it again. Couldn't you just let me off with a warning?" I know I was pushing it, but I simply wanted to find out whether the shit worked or not.
"Well, maybe I could. But you'd have to do something for me." At this point, if I didn't know what was coming, I'd be wetting myself thinking that something else was coming.
"Anything, Officer."
"It must get kinda lonely out here, driving by yourself. I bet you get horny just setting there behind the wheel. I just wanna help you relieve some of that pressure, so you don't break any more laws."
"What do you mean?"
Meatball had walked around to the passenger side and let himself in. He leaned over toward me with a lustful look in his eyes. I was hard.
"Wouldn't you like me to do something with that dick of yours?" His big, meaty hand was suddenly in my crotch, rubbing my cock through the fabric. "You know, just release the pressure."
The rest was all a blur of pleasure. He got my cock out, which was no mean feat as I was sitting down and it was a solid rod. Then he went down on it, barely using his tongue, just going for the swallow. Now, I know that he hadn't ever done this before, but he obviously knew what a man wanted in a blowjob.
His head bobbed up and down as he gave it his full attention. I expected him to reach for his own cock, but, although it was hard as well, it just stayed there tight in his trousers.
I came. I exploded. I shot my load down his throat, and he licked off every last drop. What else can I say?
"Jeez, that was fucking great." Oliver was a new man. He had found the joys of playing with boys.
"Does that mean I don't get a ticket?"
"You don't get a ticket, but you should get a medal." He was grinning like a dumb idiot, pleased with these new sensations.
"Well, I'd better be going then." The silence was awkward. I didn't want this guy as my best friend, just a bit of sex.
"Uh, before you go, I don't know if you're up to it, but, you know ..." He trailed off, and I had no idea what he wanted. Was he expecting to get paid for the service? I didn't remember putting that in his head.
"Well, I'd love it if you could do the other end. I mean, I know you've just come, but maybe you could just try and get hard?"
Actually, I did manage to get hard. I only lubed him up a little, and then I had my first cop arse on the back of my car on a dark bit of highway in the middle of nowhere.
Oliver loved it. The expression on his face said he was hooked. He took my name and number, just in case he was ever visiting the big city.
We said our goodbyes, and he sped off, maybe looking for more meat. I don't know.
But I do know I don't hate my out of town trips as much, now that I have that lonely stretch of road to look forward to.
END