Catch of the Day: Live Show (hypno)
by Derek Williams
If this is your first time reading a Catch of the Day story, you might want to jump back to the beginning. I couldn’t resist taking the universe just a little bit off the beaten path, and it’ll help if you know the concept. As always, thanks for reading, and keep sending in your comments to [email protected]. - D
I can always pick the straight ones.
This one was cozying up to the bar, trying to hunt down a beer. He was also distractedly searching the crowd, trying to pick up the scent of whichever friend had dragged him here tonight. Even for a Friday night, the place was stupidly busy.
The guy had thrown on jeans and a t-shirt, with a baggy dress shirt hanging open. The t-shirt had the name of some band that he’d liked as a teenager. His shoes were scuffed up sneakers.
I’m sure his body was great underneath all that, but I knew he was straight because of the way that he dressed.
The guy approaching him wasn’t straight.
Gay guys are both the hunter and the lure. They think of their bodies as objects for sex, and they dress appropriately. Shirts that are cut to show the shape of their torso. Jeans that are cut to enhance the shape of their ass. A hundred details, all designed to make you lust after them. Predator and prey, all in one 5% spandex package.
“Hey,” said the gay guy. “I’m Ryan. Can I buy you a drink?”
“Thanks man, but I’m straight.” Captain Obvious. “Just here to keep a buddy company.”
Ryan laughed, but signalled to the barman for a couple of beers. “No problem man, the beers on me anyhow. We don’t mind the occasional breeder here. At least, not most of the time.”
The straight guy took a sip and raised an eyebrow. “It sounds like there’s a story there.”
“Look over there,” Ryan motioned towards a buff guy in a loud shirt. “That guy comes in here two, three times a week and tries to pick up women.” Sure enough he was leaning in too close to a girl who was glancing around for her friends, looking for her escape plan.
“They come in here for a safe space, away from creeps like him, and he just ends up ruining their night. And he’s an asshole.”
“So you’ve tried to hit on him, huh?” joked the straight guy with a shit-eating grin.
“You bet. Threatened to kick my ass. Like I was out of line, hitting on a guy at a gay bar. Anyhow, he’ll be taken care of shortly.”
The houselights flashed. “Whoops, that’s my signal,” said Ryan. “I gotta go help out with the show tonight.”
“Cool man, I’m looking forward to it. My buddy Nate won’t stop talking about it.”
“Wait, you’re Nate’s buddy?” Ryan raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Well, I’m looking forward to this too.”
The straight guy looked oblivious. I don’t imagine that he read the posters or knew anything about the website.
I took Ryan’s vacant barstool and signalled for a beer of my own. I was dressed the part of a gay guy, a little older than the average of the crowd, but forty year old queers hanging onto the bar scene are nothing new.
Over at the stage, the master of ceremonies was testing the mic and calling for attention. I nodded politely at the straight guy, then turned my attention to the stage.
“Alright guys, let’s get this started!” proclaimed the MC. “You all know me, I’m Jeremy, and I’ll be your host this evening. We’ve got three of our regulars up here to introduce the contestants.”
I knew two of the three guys who stepped up on stage. There was Nate, this twink who practically exuded rainbows. Beside him was Ryan, that guy who’s barstool I had taken. I didn’t know the last one, though I’d seen him knocking around on karaoke nights.
“Hey guys,” Nate said into the microphone. “So today, I’d like to introduce you all to my good friend Connor.”
The straight guy seated beside me blushed red.
“Connor, come on up here,” Nate said waving him forward. Connor sighed deeply, chugged the rest of his beer, and started making his way toward the stage. As they saw him, the crowd started parting to clear his way.
“Connor is a great guy. He’s a frat brother of mine, and he’s always been an awesome friend, but lately he’s been having some trouble. I think he’s been stressing out way, way, way too much about school. He hasn’t gone out or gotten laid in weeks.”
The crowd murmured. Not getting laid enough was serious business with these guys. Connor blushed a fresh shade of red at the mention of his sex life.
He walked up a short flight of steps and took the stage. Connor breathed in and out deeply. He was being a good sport, but I suspect he was thinking up elaborate ways to murder Nate. I know I would have been.
“Hi everyone,” Connor turned around and waved at the crowd.
The MC typed something into a laptop at the side of the stage. He hit enter, and a piece of text flashed briefly on all the bar’s big screen TV’s.
>>> Connor will not leave the stage until we give permission.
Meanwhile, Nate had handed the mic over to Ryan.
“Hey guys,” Ryan waved at the crowd. “Our next contestant doesn’t come with such glowing reviews. I think you all know Joel, the pickup artist who’s been using our little bar as his hunting ground. Stand up Joel.”
The buff guy with the loud shirt, Joel, didn’t stand. Whoever was in the AV booth swung a spotlight on him. He tried to wave off the attention, but the light stayed focussed.
“Come on up Joel, you’ll have a great time. For the last couple of months, you’ve been making the whole bar uncomfortable, and I think it’s because you don’t really fit in around here. Come on. We’ll do our best to make you feel like a new man.”
Joel continued to wave off the attention, but eventually gave in when the girl he’d been chatting up whispered something in his ear. If I had to guess, it would have been a promise to go home with him, if only he’d go up on stage.
The crowd parted again, and Joel strode up confidently, ready to put up with five minutes of bullshit to get some pussy. Another message flashed on the TV’s around the bar.
>>> Joel will not leave the stage until we give permission.
“Hi, I’m Jonny,” said the last guy as he took the mic, “And I’m going to call up Dmitry.”
The crowd looked around, but nobody was making any move to be recognized.
“I have a bit of a bone to pick with Dmitry,” said Jonny. “Dmitry is a cab driver who was glaring at me and my boyfriend all through our cab ride home last week. On top of that, I couldn’t find my phone when we got home. Nobody answered it when we called, but the phone uploaded photos of Dmitry for a couple days before it was wiped. I’m pretty pissed off that he stole it. The cops wouldn’t do anything, so I thought we should take this into our own hands.”
Everyone was still looking around. “We might have to call him up,” said Jonny, signalling to the Jeremy the MC. All around the bar, another message flashed.
>>> Dmitry will come to the stage, and will not leave the stage until we give permission.
The place had gone almost silent, the crowd waiting for someone to make a move. The seconds were stretching uncomfortably when a booming voice intruded from outside.
“Yes, I here for pickup. They phone, say they be at coat check.”
“Uh, I think you’re supposed to go inside…” stammered the doorman.
The bar’s door swing open. There was an older Russian man there, looking uncomfortably at the crowd. For the third time in as many minutes, the crowd parted, allowing him access to the stage.
Dmitry strode to the stage and grabbed the mic from Jonny. I doubt Dmitry recognized him.
“Excuse, who looks for cab? I here because I get call.”
The tension broke, and the crowd started laughing. Dmitry was there, right on schedule.
“I’m afraid not,” said Jeremy, taking back the mic. “You’re here because we wanted you here. Let’s get started.”
Nate, Ryan, and Jonny were motioned offstage. Connor and Joel stood there, unsure what was happening. Dmitry made a dismissive gesture with his hand, looking like he was ready to go back to his cab and forget the fare. When he approached the edge of the stage, he stopped, then put his hands out like a mime. Some invisible box was trapping him on the stage.
“Alright men,” said the MC, “Who wants to go first.”
There was a silence from the room.
“Come’on guys, don’t be shy. Just call it out,” Jeremy said.
The first shout came from the girl that Joel had been hitting on.
“Hey Joel, let’s see what you’ve got!”
>>> Joel strips down to his underwear.
The text flashed up around the room, and Joel pulled off his shoes and socks, lingering as long as he could. Every motion was resisted, but eventually Joel was standing in just his baggy boxers, embarrassed on the stage.
“Hey Joel, bros don’t let bros skip leg day,” shouted a pretty built guy from the back. The room laughed. He was right, Joel had clearly worked hard on his chest and biceps, but he had chicken legs.
“Why’d I do that?” Joel asked the room. The noise level was rising as people joked with their neighbours about Joel’s physique.
“You don’t have a choice Joel,” said the MC. “Whatever I type here happens.”
“So, you’re gonna hypnotize us or something?” asked Connor.
“Oh, we can do much more than that.”
“Connor,” shouted out someone from the crowd. “Nate said you were all tense about school. You gotta relax. I don’t think you’re in school.”
>>> Connor isn’t in school anymore.
A wave of confusion washed over Connor. “Of course I’m not in school,” he said, “I…uh…”
The crowd shouted suggestions in rapid fire, warming up to the situation.
“You dropped out, after first year.”
“Yeah, you realized that you’d rather be happy than smart!”
“Now you’re the pool boy!”
>>> Connor is a pool boy after dropping out. He doesn’t care about being smart.
“Yeah,” said Connor, “I’m the pool boy. I know Nate ‘cause I clean the pool at his frat’s house.” He nodded his head, settling into the new reality.
“That’s why you’ve got such a great tan!”
Jeremy typed quickly, and Connor’s skin shifted to a deep golden brown.
On stage, the Dmitry and Joel were backing away from Connor, like they were going to catch his tan.
“What the hell?” yelled Joel. “You can’t do that.”
“Sure we can,” said Jeremy, watching with a wolfish grin, “We can change anything. What’re you doing wearing baggy budweiser boxers? Nobody here wears those. If you’re going to fit in, you should wear something tight, bright, and colourful.”
“Like a pair of pink briefs!” shouted an audience member.
>>> Joel is wearing neon pink briefs
The boxers promptly shrank into a pair of tight pink briefs. Joel moved to cover himself with his hands, his clothing situation becoming desperate.
“We’ll get back to you,” said the MC, giving Joel a sly wink. “Does anyone want to see Dmitry get transformed?”
The crowd went up with a cheer, their previous hesitation gone with Joel’s boxers.
“First let’s get rid of that potbelly.”
“And the beard, I hate the beard.”
“Yeah, he should be smooth all over.”
“And younger! Like, twenty-two, tops.”
>>> Dmitry is a twenty-two year old who shaves religiously and keeps his body in good shape.
Dmitry felt his body shift as decades of wear and neglect reversed themselves. His clothes became baggy as he lost weight, and the sharp features of a young Russian asserted themselves. Scraps of his beard fell to the floor, revealing sharp cheekbones and angular lines.
Unlike Joel, Dmitry didn’t shout out. I had spent some time in Russia in the late eighties. It wasn’t the kind of place you learned to shout out when something happened to you.
Once Dmitry’s regression was complete, the crowd started shouting more suggestions.
“Hey Connor, if you’re the pool boy, shouldn’t you be wearing a tank-top and maybe a tiny swimsuit?”
>>> Connor is dressed in a skimpy tanktop and swimsuit.
It took no time for Conner’s button down shirt to fade away and the t-shirt to constrict around him, becoming a tight yellow tank-top with a surf logo emblazoned in bright blue. The jeans pulled into themselves until they were just an ass hugging scrap of fabric that matched the blue on the shirt. His bulge showed prominently, making the room go wild.
“And you’d get laid a lot more if you were gay!”
The room laughed, but Jeremy clucked his tongue. “Not yet guys,” he said, “Let’s make this last.”
On stage, Connor laughed along with the crowd. He didn’t have a care in the world.
“Well, how about he’s horny all the time?”
>>> Connor is horny all the time.
His swimsuit didn’t hide much. Even in a room full of gay guys, Connor was half hard.
“He cums like ten times a day!” came another suggestion.
>>> Connor cums at least ten times a day.
There was no immediate change, but Connor’s expression shifted slightly, his eyes looking hungrier.
“Now can we make him gay already!?”
The MC held his hands up in surrender before typing in the next line. “Okay,” he said, “but Nate had a special request earlier.”
>>> Connor is gay, and *totally* in love with Nate.
The crowd laughed and wolf-whistled as Connor locked eyes with Nate and looked even hornier.
“No fair Nate,” yelled one of the crowd. “At least make him slutty like you so the rest of us have a chance!”
The MC paused, waiting for Nate’s approval.
“Sure, what the hell,” said Nate, “It’s not like he’s going to run short on steam.”
With Nate out of reach, Connor turned to Joel. “Hey,” he smiled at the man in the tight pink briefs, “You here alone tonight?”
I took a sip of my beer. Damn, whatever conditioning they used was both strong and immediate. Connor didn’t even care that he was on stage.
“Fuck off fag,” says Joel. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m getting out.” Joel tried to leave, but ended up bouncing off the same invisible wall that Dmitry had encountered. The crowd was over being shy, breaking out in laughter like this was some sort of slapstick.
“Dmitry, you should lose the shirt!”
>>> Dmitry will take off his shirt
Dmitry peeled off his shirt, revealing an unremarkable body. “I am not comfortable doing this,” he said.
“But that’s why you came to America, to be a stripper!”
The MC barked a laugh, then typed the suggestion into his keyboard. Dmitry’s expression shifted. He was a lot more comfortable with taking off his shirt now.
“Hey Dmitry, you need to work out a *lot* more. Maybe you can strip for women looking like that, but if you’re going to strip exclusively for gay men, you’re going to need a lot more muscle!”
>>> Dmitry only strips for gay men. He spends all his time stripping and working to build more muscle.
Dmitry’s frame exploded, stacking on more muscle. Before he had looked like a fairly fit 22 year old, but now he looked like he loved the gym.
“Even more!”
Dmitry’s muscles bulged. The Russian kid must have practically lived at the gym to get that kind of growth at his new age.
Dmitry grabbed hold of his pants and whipped them off in one practiced motion, the snaps giving way easily. His legs were nothing short of incredible. He had the kind of calves that runners dream about.
“I strip for the gay men!” he called out, gyrating his thickly muscled body.
The crowd went wild. Joel’s eyes widened in terror.
“Fuck,” he yelled at Dmitry. “You’re getting off on this shit?”
“No,” said Dmitry as he bends over to shake his tight ass at the cheering men, “I strip for money. At home, I have girl.”
“No way,” shouted someone from the crowd. “You strip because it turns you on. The more men who watch you strip, the more turned on you get.”
>>> Dmitry is turned on by stripping for men, the more the better.
Dmitry turned to face the audience again, his fat cock springing to attention. As he thrust his crotch to a steady beat, his hand slid down his square pecs, his fingers played on his six pack, and finally his hand slipped into the red trunks he wore. His body practically spasmed as he groped himself in front of this many men.
“Come’on man,” Joel pleaded with him. “You said you had a girl at home?”
Another suggestion came from the floor. “Dmitry loves sticking his cock into some dudes hole and just riding him.”
>>> Dmitry only fucks men, and only on top.
Joel kept trying to break through to Dmitry. “Come on dude, stay with me. Tell me about your girl.”
“Yes, she is…what you call fag hag?” says Dmitry. He keept dancing, flexing his muscles occasionally to drive the men crazy. Even one or two guys who are strict tops were probably thinking about bending over for him.
“Back to Joel,” says the MC, breaking Dmitry’s hold on the bar. Dmitry didn’t stop dancing, but many of the guys were able to tear their eyes off him, at least for a few seconds at a time.
“Now Joel, you seem like you have trouble fitting in around here. You know what kind of bar this is?”
Joel looked frightened. He bit his tongue, glancing at the transformed pool boy and the Russian stripper, knowing where that answer was leading.
>>> Joel must answer all questions promptly and truthfully.
“What kind of bar is this Joel?” the MC asked again.
“It’s a gay bar,” blurted out Joel.
“And why do men come to a gay bar?”
“Cock!” yelled one of the guys from the floor.
“Yeah,” said Joel, “Most guys come here because they want to find cock.”
“Joel’s a total cockhound!” someone yelled. “All he wants to do is suck dick. It makes him so happy, and so horny.”
“Yeah, that’s the only way he gets off, is when he’s sucking off some other dude!”
“He just begs to suck cock!”
The MC’s hands flew over the keyboard, and Joel stared at Dmitry’s bulge, unable to look away.
An expression of need flooded over Joel’s features. “Hey big boy,” he said to Dmitry, “You need some help with that?” He looked horrified at the words, but couldn’t stop himself.
“No way,” shouted someone from the front of the crowd, “He’s too fuckin’ generic. I don’t want the same loser pickup artist in here.”
“Yeah,” said someone else, “Let’s make him military. Army!”
The whole room cheered at that one. Hell, even I can acknowledge that a man looks sexier in uniform.
>>> Joel is obsessed with the army.
I watched this change with particular interest.
I don’t suppose Joel’s upper body changed much. He was already pretty buff, if anything his muscles got a little less cut. Less time in the gym. More time doing training exercises. Joel’s legs definitely filled out, now easily capable of doing a ten mile run with a heavy pack. His clothes only shifted slightly, the pink of his underwear changing to black and a pair of dog tags dangling between his thick pecs.
What really changed was his bearing. Joel went from the half-slouch that most younger guys think counts as standing up to a military posture. He looked at least two inches taller, and the confidence he projected made him look like a man. And he was ready to serve.
His hands were rigid by his side as he barked “Permission to suck you off, sir!”
Dmitry smiled and motioned down towards his obvious bulge.
Before Joel could move, Connor had tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey there soldier,” he said, “American’s first.”
“Yes sir,” said Joel, dropping down to his knees and undoing Connor’s belt. Within moments he was sucking enthusiastically at Connor’s tan cock, his head bobbing up and down Connor’s shaft with practiced ease.
Dmitry looked disappointed, at least until someone in the crowd shouted out the next instruction.
“Dmitry’s dick is so big that it can’t even fit in his pants when he’s hard!”
Dmitry shifted uncomfortably as his cock got even bigger, the mushroom head protruding a good three inches above the belt line. Precum shone visibly on the cockhead as he watched Joel take good care of Connor.
He circled around behind Connor and started rubbing his cut body against the pool boy’s, sliding up and down his back.
“And I want to fuck you. May I please fuck?”
Connor nodded. Dmitry pulled down his underwear, releasing the rest of his swollen member. The MC tossed a bottle of lube, and Dmitry coated his cock and Connor’s hole with it it, wasting no time in getting ready. He lined up, then plunged deep, Connor gasping with intense pleasure.
The crowd was silent for a few moments, just taking in the show. The three men shone with sweat in the stage lights, working their bodies for maximum enjoyment. Offstage, guys were rubbing their crotches, not even caring that they were in a room with a hundred strangers watching live porn.
The DJ sensed the mood and pumped up the music, letting a thumping beat reverberate through the bar. The crowd started moving, their bodies mashing together with the music. I smiled, watching guys match up into groups of two or three, making out and feeling each other up. Nobody was going quite as far as the three on stage, but the sexual energy in the room was infecting everyone.
A huge muscle beast wearing a tight T that said “I Do It For The Money” leaned in to kiss me. Instinctively I waved him off. “Sorry man, I’m just here to watch.”
“That’s cool, I get that,” said the guy in the T, and went off to find a partner for the night. I watched him go, the energy in the room making me wish I hadn’t.
Over the noise, I could hear the MC giving Connor, Joel and Dmitry permission to leave the stage. None of them responded, too caught up in their bodies to think about anything but the ecstasy.
I signalled the bartender and asked the last thing I needed to know. “Hey, is Travis going to show? I love his site and I really want to meet him.”
The bartender grinned with an ‘aw shucks’ expression and shook his head. “He likes to keep to himself,” he said, moving quickly to fill orders. Nate and Ryan were just down the bar, getting celebratory shots. The bartender flipped up a third glass when he saw Connor wading through the crowd to join them.
Connor surprised Nate from behind, pulling the smaller man into a comfortable embrace and kissing him deeply. “Hey,” he said, “You were totally right, this was a great night to come out.” Nate grinned broadly, tossed back the shot, and leaned in to kiss Connor again. I doubted they’d ever be able to keep their hands off each other.
Ryan excused himself. It looked like a line was forming for Joel, who was interested in sucking any cock he could get, and Ryan definitely wanted to shoot a load into Joel’s hungry mouth. I looked around and saw the girl from earlier, pointing and Joel and laughing with her friends.
With only Dmitry left on stage, the muscle beast in the T has jumped up there to join him in a close dance. I got the feeling that Dmitry was going to get to fuck more than just Connor tonight.
It was only one AM, and I was sure the bar would stay wild for hours. I tossed down a twenty and slipped out.
I could see my breath outside. I zipped my coat tighter, struck a cigarette, and walked for a while. When I was a few blocks from the club, I pulled out my phone and tapped in a memorized number.
“Hey, it’s me. No joy. Recommend we try the direct approach.”