The Slippery Slope (hypno coll)
by DomPrep
It was a typical dive bar in a typical university town. The inside was dark and dank with a long bar along one wall and a set of pool tables upfront near the inevitable jukebox. In the even darker rear area of the room were bathrooms and a smattering of tables and booths.
The man sat in the corner of the bar nursing his beer and thinking that he was probably going to pack it in for the night. It was late and he didn’t see any likely subjects for his particular brand of fun. At that moment a group of students came piling into the place. They had clearly had a long night drinking already and they were equally clearly all members of the same fraternity. The man perked up immediately and began to scan the group as they made their way to a back booth. There were about a dozen in all and while they each had their promising attributes the man spotted his primary target very quickly. The boy was blond haired and blue eyed and in his early 20’s and about 6 foot tall. The man would say he was packing approximately 180 pounds on his athletic frame. He was dressed in a tight white polo shirt, tight jeans and well-worn grey Nike running shoes. The man noticed a discreet flash of ankles with each step so the boy was either sockless or more likely was wearing no show socks under his Nikes.
Yes, the man thought, he would do nicely indeed. Now all he had to do was wait for his moment.
* * * *
It had been a pretty good day, Mike thought as he relaxed in the booth at the back of the bar. He was out with his frat brothers, he had a lot to drink and it was late night. All things considered except for the absence of pussy, Mike thought it had been a pretty fucking good day. Not that Mike, as a member of the top frat on campus, best midfielder on the university’s lacrosse team and a pretty good-looking guy, if he did say so himself, had any problem on that score. No, it was because he respected the frat’s occasional “bros before ho’s” nights enough not to mess with it that he wasn’t cock deep in some warm pussy right now. He had sent the rest of the guys off to play pool saying that he wanted to drink and chill for a bit and would hold the booth. The real reason was that he wanted to hang back was to check his phone and decide if he should text one of his regular girls and ask her to meet him back at his off-campus apartment after things wrapped up here. He stretched his frame out under the table and put his Nikes up on the bench across from him while he looked through his contacts. Still, he thought, he could also make a play for one of the skanks in this place. He smiled knowing that he could have any of them that he wanted.
The man had watched his target stay behind at the booth when his buddies headed up to the pool tables and decided that now was the time to make his move. He walked over and sat down next to the boy effectively trapping him inside the booth. He didn’t say anything just kept drinking his beer and looking straight ahead.
Mike was still considering his pussy dilemma when this dude suddenly came over and sat next to him. What the fuck, Mike thought as he looked at the man next to him. The dude who was dressed all in black was in his thirties but was in good shape. Mike thought he probably didn’t have any problems with the ladies from the looks of him. Still it was totally weird for this dude that he didn’t know to just sit down right next to him.
“Excuse me, my friends are sitting there,” Mike said figuring it was better to be polite in this situation since the dude was probably trashed.
The man purposefully did not acknowledge Mike’s statement and continued to look straight ahead drinking his beer.
“Dude, this is our booth,” Mike said louder, in case the man hadn’t heard him.
The man smiled but continued to pay no attention to the boy next to him. Instead he reached across the table and took Mike’s pitcher of beer and used it to refill his mug. Placing it deliberately back on the table when he was done.
What the fuck, Mike thought, this has gone too far. There wasn’t enough room for him to swing his legs down from the bench with this dude sitting right next to him but he turned and put his hand on the man’s shoulder saying, “Come on man, if you don’t want any trouble, you better . . .”
That was exactly what the man was waiting for he placed his mug down on the table top and suddenly spun grabbing the young jock’s wrist with his hand and twisting it off his shoulder and downward below the level of the tabletop and holding it there firmly in a one-handed arm lock. His other hand shot out grasping Mike by the throat. His thumb lay across Mike’s Adam’s apple pressing down while his fingers curled around the Mike’s neck and found the pulse point there and pressed firmly against it. The man knew this hold would prevent the jock from crying out and would the added bonus of subtly slowing the flow of blood to his brain. “Is there a problem?” he said finally turning to Mike.
The suddenness and violence of the man’s movements had caught Mike off-guard. His hand was no longer on the man’s shoulder instead it was twisted round and held in the man’s vice-like grip. The man’s other hand was on his throat holding him back against the far wall of the booth. The man was asking him if there was a problem and he would have answered but he couldn’t find his voice in the man’s grip. Instead, he struggled to free himself or at least hopefully draw the attention of his frat brothers to get a little help.
The man knew that the combination of his grip and jock’s awkward position would prevent him from getting loose. He also knew that the bar was dark enough and they were far enough from anyone else that the few minutes of struggle would likely go unnoticed. Soon enough he felt the young jock’s movements start to get sluggish and he could see from his rising chest that the depth and the frequency of the jock’s breaths had increased as his body attempted to counteract the decreased flow of oxygen to his brain. The man knew that this would inevitably lead the jock into the state of euphoria and suggestibility that he needed to take things to the next level.
Mike mentally cursed himself for not going with his buddies as he struggled in the man’s grip. After a few moments however he could feel his struggles started to weaken. He noticed that his vision started to get hazy around the edges. His free arm felt so heavy all of a sudden and it seemed like too much of an effort to lift it anymore so he let it slip away from the man’s wrist and flop to his side. In fact, his whole body was incredibly heavy as he felt himself being eased back into the booth.
The man judged the situation very carefully. He watched the jock’s hand fall to his side. He saw the jock’s blue eyes start to get that glassy faraway look in them. He pitched his voice low and gentle as he eased up his grip on the jock’s neck just a little and said, “There isn’t a problem at all. It was all just a misunderstanding wasn’t it?”
Mike’s whole body was so heavy and he could feel his head throbbing in time to his heart beat as he gulped down fast deep breaths. He could feel his lips moving and choking out in his newly rediscovered voice, “N-n-n-no . . . P-P-p-problem.”
“That’s right,” the man said in a low friendly voice, “no problems at all. Just a couple of new friends talking. What’s your name friend?”
“M-m-m-mike,” came the mumbled reply from the young stud.
“No problems at all, Mike,” the man said. “No problems, no worries. Just a couple friends relaxing and talking. That’s all you need to do Mike, just relax. Relax and focus on what I’m saying to you because it’s something that you want to hear. Relax and focus on my voice and my eyes,” the man said in his slow gentle voice while tilting Mike’s head so they were looking right at each other.
It was then that Mike really looked into the man’s eyes. They were such a dark brown that the iris and the pupils seemed to merge into one large deep mass. The man’s gaze never wavered and he never blinked as he met the stare from Mike’s blue eyes. Something in the back of Mike’s mind screamed for him to get up and get out of there but there was a disconnect between his mind and his body. His body was so heavy now and those dark eyes were filing his field of vision. The man was speaking to him now in a soft voice telling him that there weren’t any problems and that all he needed to do was relax and focus. Mike could feel his breathing deepening even more as he listened to the man and the fuzziness of his vision start to spread. Mike found himself focusing on the man’s voice and eyes in an attempt to anchor himself.
“That’s it Mike. Just relax and focus on me. Block everything else out and just focus on my voice and my eyes. You look so tired Mike. You look like you’ve had such a long tiring day.”
Mike found his mind wandering, thinking about the long practice he had that morning and how he had really pushed himself at the gym and then classes and then hanging out with the guys. He realized how tired he was feeling all of a sudden. His whole body felt so warm and heavy now; that voice far back in his mind was telling him that he should fight against the feeling and the man but the voice seemed so far away that it was hard to credit it. Instead, he heard himself confirming his feelings to the man. “R-r-r-relax . . . T-t-t-tired,” he mumbled.
The man was telling him to relax and let go. Telling him that there was nothing to worry about and that he was amongst friends. Mike feel happy and contented hearing his friend talk to him. He needed to concentrate on what his friend was saying but his head felt like it was filled with warm oatmeal. He felt everything becoming pleasantly fuzzier and with each breath he felt himself slipping into a warmer and even more relaxed haze.
“R-r-r-relax . . . L-l-l-let . . . G-g-g-go” he heard himself slur in response to his friend. Everything was just fine he thought. He was just relaxing here with his friend and feeling great.
The man was telling Mike again how tired he must be and Mike knew it was true. He could feel his whole body relaxing. If it weren’t for the man holding him up, Mike would have slumped further into the booth. His head was gently swaying back and forth in the man’s grip. His eyelids were so heavy. His blue eyes were fixed and unfocused with a dreamy stupor to them and his lips had an idiot smile on them.
The man was telling him that he should close his eyes and rest now. He should rest but continue to listen very carefully to what the man had to tell him. It seemed like such a good idea to Mike. He could close his eyes and still listen to what his friend had to say. He was so tired and needed to sleep now. His friend understood that and was telling him it was okay. Okay to let go. Okay to sleep.
Mike felt the warm glow surrounding his whole body in relaxation and comfort before he even realized that he had slipped into it and away from reality. It was a good sleep though because he could still hear his friend’s voice. He could hear it guiding him deeper and deeper. Making him more and more relaxed. It felt so good to listen to his friend and slip deeper and deeper into relaxation for him.
He had no cares. No worries. He just had to float and listen. Now his friend was telling him that it was important for him to listen and to obey. He knew it must be important if his friend was telling it to him. Yes, Mike thought in his deep sleep, it was important for him to listen to and obey his friend.
The man looked down and smiled at the zonked out jock. Yes, this was progressing nicely he thought as he watched the regular rise and fall of the jock’s sculpted chest. He released the lad’s wrist and lowered the hand to the jock’s thigh. His hand rested atop the boys hand and then started to lightly rub and stroke the young athlete’s thigh through his jeans. “That’s right Mike. Feels so good to relax, listen and obey doesn’t it?”
“F-f-f-feels . . . G-g-g-good,” was Mike’s slurred and distant reply.
The man continued to stroke the jock’s thigh allowing his hand to travel higher and higher. Soon he was rubbing and gently but firmly squeezing the young athlete‘s crotch through his jeans. “Feels so good to relax and obey,” the man said as he continued his ministrations. “Soon it’s all you’ll be able to think about. How good it feels to relax and obey.”
“Ohhhhhh,” the jock gently sighed as his cock started to fill up in his tight jeans.
“Deeper and deeper . . . Drifting . . . Floating . . . Feels so good . . . Feels so right to obey,” the man continued in his soft drone. He was now jacking the hypnotized stud through his jeans as he spoke. The man knew the sexual stimulation that he was giving the jock would further imbed his words in the athlete’s psyche forever connecting them with the pleasure centers of Mike’s brain.
Mike was floating in a warm sea. His mind blank and at peace, filled only with his friend’s voice. The voice that was telling him good it felt to relax and obey. It was telling him that his own will was gone and that he couldn’t resist his friend even if he had wanted to do so. And Mike knew it did feel good and he certainly didn’t want to resist his friend. His cock was so hard now. He could feel it throbbing in his jeans. Oh fuck, he thought, it did feel sooooo good. He needed to obey his friend. It felt soooo damn good; like a hand was jerking his cock closer and closer to orgasm. His mind now flooded with both his friend’s voice and a newly awakened sex urge. The hand on his cock and the voice in his head suddenly synched up as any remaining resistance or shred of his free will slipped away and the need to cum, so strong in jocks his age, merged forever in his mind with the need to obey.
“Gotta . . . obey,” Mike moaned and squirmed under the man’s incessant rubbing and stroking.
“Oh-oh-oh-ohhhhhhhhhhh . . . s-s-shit . . . N-n-n-no . . . W-w-will . . . C-c-c-can’t resist,” said the sexually overloaded stud. The man opened the button fly on Mike’s jeans under the table. Mike’s cock was tenting the white boxer briefs underneath his jeans. The front of the boxer briefs was wet and sticky with his boy sap. The man’s hand now worked the boy through his soft white underwear as he continued to imprint his commands on the athlete’s mind.
“That’s right Mike. You need to obey. You can’t cum no matter how hard you get unless I give you permission to do so. You understand that don’t you?”
“Oh-h-h . . . f-f-f-fuck . . . C-c-c-can’t c-c-c-cum . . . N-n-n-need p-p-p-permission,” moaned the boy. A rhythmic tension had started to develop in Mike’s body which manifested itself in his hips starting to buck to meet the man’s hand.
“Open your eyes now Mike but when you do you will still be in a deeply relaxed and at peace and still must obey me.” The man took Mike’s hand in his own as he said this and used the athlete’s own hand now wrapped in his own to jack the boy’s hard, wet cock through his boxer briefs.
“U-u-u-understand,” the jock slurred as his eyes opened. The man smiled as he looked at Mike’s blue eyes which were at once blank and glazed over with the need for sex. The combination of hypnotic trance and the sexual heat that the man had aroused in him had put Mike firmly in the man’s control.
The man removed his hand from around Mike’s hand. Mike’s hand continued the thankless job of milking the pre-crud from his leaking cock with no additional prompting from the man. “Mike,” the man said, “in a minute I am going to get up and walk out the back door. You will count to 5 inside your head once I get up and when you reach 5 you too will get up and follow me. You will still be in a deep trance while you do this Mike and you will let nothing stop you. Do you understand?”
“Y-y-y-yes,” Mike groaned as he watched the man get up from the booth and walk out the back door of the bar. His own hand still continued to milk his cotton encased cock as he counted off the numbers in his mind. Each stroke elicited a wet slapping sound from the pre-jizz saturated material.
1. . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . 5
* * * *
Danny missed his last shot on the pool table. He threw his head up cursing. It just wasn’t his night he thought moving across the room back towards the booth. He was in time to see Mike getting up out of the booth and walking towards the rear door. “Hey dude, where you going?” he shouted out towards his friend.
“Have to go,” Mike said turning back towards him for a moment before turning away and heading out the metal door. In the half-light Danny could have sworn that Mike had his fly open and was rubbing himself furiously through his partially opened jeans. He shook his head dispelling the ridiculous notion realizing he must be drunker than he thought.
Wonder where he’s really headed to, Danny thought as he sat down in the empty booth. Probably off to get some pussy and Danny knew he’d get the inevitable call tomorrow with all the details. Lucky bastard, Danny thought as the big metal door clicked shut marking Mike’s departure.