Midwinter's Daydream

“So what, you’re a hypnotherapist?” Keith brought the beer to his lips and took a slow draw, not dropping his gaze from this guy. Keith had never seen him before at this bar. He would have remembered. Xavier’s appearance was as exotic as his name.

“No. A hypnotherapist does it professionally. That requires a license, strict attention to protocols… boring stuff. Let’s just say I’ve made a life study of it.”

Xavier met Keith’s gaze coolly. It was unnerving. Then again, Keith was typically so shy he couldn’t believe he was talking to this guy in the first place. Not that it was easy—he could hear the thumping of his pulse in his ears. His best strategy was to keep Xavier talking. Short questions: “So what’s an example of when you would hypnotize someone? I mean, if it’s not part of some therapy.” Keith felt he was rambling but couldn’t stop, “then I guess there’s party tricks, planting suggestions in peoples’ minds, and that sort of thing.”

“There’s all sorts of fun that be had poking around in someone’s mind.” Xavier gave him a seductively evil stare, “How about a quick example?” Xavier was already grabbing both of their drinks before Keith could react, “Let’s go into the other room. It looks quiet in there and the chairs are more comfortable.” Keith just watched as Xavier walked across the room. He sat still for a few moments and then surrendered to following the handsome, mysterious man into the other room. A minute later he was seated in a low, comfortable chair, ten times as nervous as before.

“Let’s start with just seeing if we can get you to relax.” Xavier pushed him gently but firmly back into the seat, walked behind the chair. “We’re going to gradually descend into a calmness as we count down from ten…” Keith felt anything but calm and relaxed. “…nine…” This sexy, charismatic stranger was holding Keith’s head in his hands, gentle but strong fingers massaging his temples. “…eight…” Keith’s mind was a din of voices, worries so loud that they blurred together. He could hear Xavier saying something, but he couldn’t make out the words. He was completely unable to focus, and the thoughts in his head began to sound distant and incomprehensible… he was losing track of…

 

One.

The first important thing is that you will remember none of this, alright? When you wake up you will assume you’d nodded off, and you’ll decide to go home. You will not remember meeting me or talking to me on this night. You will not remember falling into a trance. All that happened tonight is that you came to this bar, you had a single drink by yourself, and then you went home.

Now I want to talk about what will happen the next time you see me. When you next see my face and hear my voice, I will be paying a visit to your home. This will happen sometime in the next few days. Whomever I tell you I am, whatever story I give you, you’ll believe me completely. You will trust me. Nothing will seem suspicious about my appearance. You will feel no hesitation in inviting me in.

Now, this is going to sound strange, so I’m going to go through it slowly. Although this is unconventional, when the time comes—when I visit you and you’ve invited me into your home—you will do the following without even realizing you’re doing it...

 

Saturday. Man do I love Saturdays. I sleep in until nine, cook a sinful breakfast like pancakes; I sit and read the newspaper slowly from end to end. No stresses, no anxieties. Nothing. This morning I got up early. I slept so well last night. Man was I tired last night, I actually nodded off at the bar! I went straight home, slept like a coma victim, and I feel like a million dollars.

I’m munching on a bowl of Captain Crunch when I hear the doorbell. Who on Earth could that be? Probably some neighborhood kid raising funds for band uniforms. I go over to the door and look through the peephole. There’s this guy in motorcycle leathers, holding a helmet. He looks European. I can’t exactly say why I think that. His hair is black, slightly curly and a bit long. He’s got dark skin.

I open the door. The peephole didn’t do him enough credit! This guy’s hot. And typically, like a moron I can’t even talk without stammering: “Um.. uh.. yeah?”

“Heya, I’m sorry to bother you. My name’s Xavier.” He’s definitely got an accent from somewhere, not American, “There’s another apartment in this complex for sale, and I thought I’d talk to some of the neighbors. You know, check and see if this is a friendly place to live, that sort of thing.”

“There’s no bother! Come on in.” I open the door wide and beckon him in before he can change his mind. “Um, can I get your coat? Oh, would you like anything to drink?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” He saunters into the living room and sits slowly on the couch, never taking his eyes off me. I pull my shirt off in one motion, step out of my pants, and peel off my underwear, freeing an erect cock that sprints out and bobs up and down a couple times before further stiffening and pointing skyward. “I’ve got a question for you,” he asks with a knowing grin, “Why did you just take your clothes off?”

“It just seemed a little warm in here. You don’t mind do you?” Something in the back of my mind is telling me this was a stupid response, but I’m too busy focusing on my guest. “You’re sure I can’t take your jacket?”

He doesn’t say anything for the longest time, just watches me. Then he puts down his helmet and takes off his gloves. It’s hard to describe the effect this has on me. As each hand is revealed I feel a tingling sensation of excitement. It’s like being five years old again and impatiently waiting for the wrapping to be removed from a Christmas present. I yearn to see his arms, his chest, his back, his legs. I can’t keep my mind from imagining what his cock must look like.

 

The sight of my skin will create a special excitement in you. The more of my skin is revealed, the more of a frenzy you will work up. If you only see my face you will find yourself sexually aroused. Each additional inch of flesh will make you hornier, and you will feel all the more motivated to get me to take more off. Once half of my body is showing you will be so desperate to satisfy these cravings that you will be willing to do anything.

 

Still without talking, he reaches up and slowly pulls the zipper down his jacket, stopping three-quarters of the way down. I can see a hint of his bare chest, the curve around his sternum that just suggests large pecs. This is the kind of guy who’d have those perfect washboard abs. I’m sure of it!

“I think you’re going to have to work a bit before I give you my jacket.” He digs into his coat pocket and pulls out a plastic vial, tossing it to me. “Rub this all over your body. It’s massage oil. When every part of you is covered I’ll take off my coat. And take your time, I want it to be sensual.”

This is torture! I flip open the cap and pour a generous amount of oil directly on my chest and rub it into my skin. The oil is cold, but not for long. My skin feels like it’s burning. I try to focus on making a sensual performance out of this, but my brain can’t get the thought of ripping Xavier’s clothes off him.

“Patience!” He pulls his zipper up a few inches, hiding his sternum again. The admonishment makes my heart sink. “Imagine that when you rub the oil into your skin you are actually rubbing it into my body. Enjoy the experience. And remember, once you have every part of your body covered, I’ll give you my jacket.”

Now I’m putting every ounce of passion into the act. I pour oil into my hands, rub them together and slowly explore my own face, the back of my neck, every curve of my own shoulders. It feels as though I’m touching his body and at the same time he’s touching mine. I spend some extra time lingering about my own nipples, circling around them with a light touch of one finger. As a reward, Xavier unbuckles his boots. I pour a generous spill of oil directly onto each leg, bend over and work in into my feet, my ankles, up to my knees. As I get to my thighs I see that both of his boots are off, and he’s unzipped his jacket all the way. I was right about that washboard stomach.

I arch my back as I work oil into my lower back, my buttocks, around to the front when something strange happens. For some reason my hands stop before I can put oil onto my cock. I try to will them to action, but they simply hover, frozen about two inches from my engorged penis.

 

I’m going to give you a couple restrictions to play with. It serves to make things more interesting. First of all, you won’t be able to leave the room you’re in once you take off your clothes. Even if you wanted to leave, your body will simply fail to respond to any command that would take you out of the room. Second, you will be unable to touch your own cock. Your brain simply wont send any signal to your body that will permit your cock to be touched. But the longer it goes unserviced the harder it will get. It will continue to harden until eventually it starts being painful. You will not be able to use your own hands to work your cock, which means only I will be able to alleviate your tension.

 

“What’s wrong?” He asks me, “You’re almost done.”

“I don’t know, I can’t finish…”

“But you don’t get to see any more of my flesh until you do.”

“Yes, I know, but.”

“Don’t you want to see me naked?”

“I… Of course I do, but…” I feel helpless. My cock is so fucking hard it’s killing me! I want to do what he asks, but I just don’t. I imagine him getting frustrated and leaving. That makes me start to panic.

I stand there, chagrined. I’m so close to getting Xavier’s coat off, and there at the end I’m stuck. My cock just stands there, so stiff I could drive nails into a board with it, and yet it feels like every second it’s even getting stiffer. “You’ve got to help me!” I plant myself next to him, searching for the right words.

He looks up at me and smiles, running his hand across my stomach. The electricity of his touch makes me moan.

“Please, just a little bit lower. Please.”

He stands up from the couch, and with that maddening smile he just pats my chest a few times. Then he walks behind me. He grabs my ass, then works his hands up my back, working his strong fingers into the sore crevices. It feels really good, but I can’t get my mind off the incessant demands of my cock.

He takes a step closer, leaning into me. I can feel his chest against my back, reveling in the feeling of his skin against mine. I lose myself in the ecstasy of the moment as he reaches around and grabs my cock firmly, rubbing the oil into it. He moves his hands back and forth slowly, while leaning into me from behind. Then I notice something between my legs. He must have unzipped his pants because I feel a stiff-yet-pliant object swelling against the inside of my thighs, tickling the bottom of my balls.

 

While we’re talking about cocks, let’s talk about mine. From the first moment you see me, you will feel a fascination about my cock. You’ll wonder what it looks like. When you first touch it you will have a sudden revelation that it’s home is up your ass. It will be the most profound realization: in all the years that you and I have lived, my cock was destined to find its way into the one and only place that it has ever belonged, and that is inside of you. The moment you first see my cock you will not be able to think about anything except getting it up your ass. Until that is achieved you will be unable to speak, to think, to take any action except getting yourself fucked. For that reason it may take a while before I actually let you see my dick.

 

Xavier starts nuzzling on my ear from behind, and I start to go wild. The combined sensations of him slowly jacking me off, his chest against my back, his cock rubbing between my legs, and now sucking and biting on my ear—I’m afraid I’m going to explode. He senses that and lets go of my dick. I hear his jacket fall to the floor. When I turn around I see that he’s somehow managed to wrestle that dick back into his pants. But the sight of his bare torso, covered with tight muscles, his eyes, his hair, and that mischievous smile. I want to undress him, to caress every inch of his body.

He steps forward and plants an aggressive kiss on my lips, and I taste his mouth. (There’s a hint of mint.) Our hands fumble around, exploring each other’s bodies. I wrap my arms around him and pull him into me. It feels like glorious hours pass as we kiss, sometimes with a brutal clumsy passion, other times with light, tender touches where our lips barely meet. We fall onto the couch, caressing and making out, and eventually we tumble down to the floor. He holds me down onto the carpet, his hands holding me helpless as he explores every corner of my body. For long minutes he just holds me in place, running his tongue around each nipple in concentric circles. His hair falls over onto my neck, tickling. Meanwhile his cheek occasionally rubs against my osn neglected cock, sending shivers down my spine. My thoughts however keep going back to his crotch. When I felt his cock between my legs earlier something inside me seemed to snap. I dismissed it at first, but my mind kept returning to the thought of his cock. Somehow I knew that he must fuck me. I tried to envision his dick—I wasn’t even sure if it was cut or uncut—and deep inside me I felt this mad itch. I keep struggling to regain control, but he has me pinned down tight. All I can do is surrender to his slow, methodical touch.

Finally his head descends to my crotch, and he lets go of my wrists. I’m ready to twist around and escape when I feel the wet embrace of his lips around my cock. My entire body shudders, and I’m rendered helpless. I’m convulsing lightly; my eyes roll back into my head. Eventually I regain enough control to lift my head slightly and I look down at him. His lips are wrapped around my cock, but his eyes still gaze up at me with a look of total control.

“It’s no fair I’m the only one all greased up. I want to rub that oil all over you.” I protest. For a while Xavier does nothing but watch me through those unblinking eyes as his mouth runs up and down the length of my cock, but eventually he releases me. My cock bobs around a couple times before returning to pointing stiffly upward.

Xavier retreats a few paces, grabs the bottle of body oil and steps into the hallway, just beyond the living room. I jump up and run to join him, when my feet suddenly stop at the edge of the carpet. I’m astounded as I find myself trapped. In the same way my hands are unwilling to grasp my own cock, my feet refuse to clear the last meter to where he stands.

“You performed such a good show for me earlier, I think I’ll return the favor. Damn, don’t you wish you could be right here with me?” he taunts, pouring oil over his shoulders and chest and rubbing it into his skin. His dark complexion looks twice as exotic with the shine of the massage oil. I can smell a hint of eucalyptus as I absent-mindedly stroke my left nipple with my finger, unable to do much more than that. I’m about to protest his teasing when he suddenly grabs the top of his leather pants and pulls sharply down, letting spring his cock.

It’s beautiful! It’s large but not impossibly so. It’s also uncut. He grabs it with an oily hand and pulls the foreskin back, yanking back and forth a few tugs with both hands until it too glistens with oil, and then he lets it spring away out of his grip. He pulls his pants off and finishes oiling up his legs, but all I can look at is his cock. My mind goes blank. All I can say is “You have to fuck me.”

“I know.” He smiles back at me, “But first we’re going to tie you up.” And he turns to walk back into the other room. I notice that one foot is standing on his discarded jacket.

He’s surprised by what I do next. Hell, I’m surprised by what I do, but my brain is in a frenzy. I can’t take anymore of this teasing, this torture. I can’t conceive of the idea that he might tie me up and make me wait an eternity before we fuck, and what if he left?

When my mind hits that thought I dive to the floor where his jacket, the jacket he’s standing on, lays partially in the hallway, but partially in this room. I grab the sleeve and pull with all my might, tripping him and knocking him to the floor. As he falls one leg juts out at me. I grab the ankle and pull him back into my room. Then I climb on top of him. He tries to grab me, but his hands just slip over my body, and he inadvertently hits my face.

I don’t care. He’s on his back, flailing his arms and legs around. I don’t give him the opportunity to regain his bearings. I sit square on top of his stomach, and grapple with him, holding on tight. We’re a mess of arms and legs. I find his head, grab both sides of it with my hands and pull his mouth into mine. For a moment his arms stop moving, and he kisses me back. Then I tighten my legs around his thighs, shift my weight and pull downward. In a moment I feel the end of his dick almost where I expected it. It stabs my right buttock, just an inch away from my ass for a moment before springing to the side. I shift to the left. He’s now aware of what I’m doing and I can feel his muscles coil to throw me off.

With one sharp lurch downward I impale myself onto his dick. One smooth motion and it slips into my ass. My mind explodes and everything is good.

For a second neither of us is able to act; we’re both in shock. Then he starts to shift, trying to get away from me. A dig my fingers into him and pull down hard, knocking the wind out of him. Then with almost a convulsion I pull up and back down, sphincter strangling his shaft as it stabs back into me, and he surrenders. I move my body rhythmically up and down. We kiss and I enjoy the feel of his hands caressing my sides while my ass caresses his cock. I enjoy my small victory, finally in control of the situation for a while.

But my domination isn’t destined to last for long. Xavier is restless, then aggressive. I think we can both feel this invisible fire that burns inside his cock, and his patience for being teased is obviously shorter than mine. Besides, his obviously far stronger than I am, and I’m not likely to enjoy this advantage for long. He shifts his weight and rolls us over until I’m on my back. He pulls his cock out of me for a moment, but I’m not worried. It takes a moment as he reaches his hands behind my lower back and with one very strong pull, guides me back into position. Then he dives forward, letting our greased bodies slide into each other. With incredible strength he begins to pump into me. I flex my back to get the angle just right, and then I simply enjoy the thrusts as he drives himself repeatedly into me.

His cock is home. It’s where it belongs. The tragedy of its absence is over and I’m so euphoric that for a moment I laugh. His face briefly twists into surprise and then mischief as he drives into me even harder.

I absently try to grab my own cock but discover my hands still refuse to touch it. Xavier notices and in a few moments he pulls back out of me and guides me to sit up, placing my hands on the back of the couch, my knees into the cushions. The from behind he mounts me. His arms wrap around my waist and he grasps my cock and starts pumping it with his own hands. His body is leaning hard into my back and it takes all my strength to push us both away from the couch. His head falls into the back of my neck and again I feel the tickle of his long hair as it falls onto my shoulders.

And I can feel the entire musculature of his frame as he holds himself onto me. He thrusts forward and his cock slides along my back until it gets caught in the ridge made by my butt. We both feel his positioning. With one great pull back and a thrust forward he stabs through my sphincter, plunging back into my ass. This time I can feel the head of his cock rubbing against my prostate and I go wild, almost dropping us to the floor. He senses the excitement and starts thrusting harder and faster. I hear his short, quick breaths in my ear. I feel the urgency in his hands as he grips my cock harder, clumsily pumping up and down. A shudder runs down both our backs as we both start to shoot.

I swear I can feel his cum searing inside me, leaving an invisible but permanent mark. Inside my mind I can hear the sound of glass breaking and I’m over-cum with a strange serenity. I breathe in his natural musk and relax into a dazed euphoria.

 

If I cum inside you, you will always keep part of me inside you. Our bodies are like the barriers you place around your mind to protect it. If I penetrate those barriers and leave part of myself in you, your mind will be forever vulnerable to me; my words will always sink to the core of your subconscious, as though you were hypnotized again. I will reign freely in your mind. If I tell you the sky is red, it will be red. If I tell you to suck my cock you will do it without thinking, unaware that I even gave you the command.

Now you will emerge from this deep state of hypnosis. You will awaken and go home, and I will see you tomorrow. Remember, you will remember nothing of this night.

 

The shower is long and lazy and slow. It takes a long time to wash the oil off our bodies. I think my skin must have soaked most of it up. I towel-dry myself off and look at this strange man who just an hour ago appeared from nowhere. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt as content and as relaxed as I do now. And then I feel myself begin to get hard again. I’m torn between lying on the couch and sleeping for the next few days and pleasuring myself again.

“Xavier, suck my cock.”

He looks back at me and grins, “It only works one way, you know.”

I look him in the eye and smile, “A part of you exists inside me know. A part of you that you will never get back. I’m keeping it. I own it. I control it. Now drop to you knees!”

Xavier drops onto his knees, shocked. It takes a moment for him to gain his balance. He looks up into my eyes with a strange look. Surprise. Confusion. Excitement. Obedience.

“Now, suck my cock.”

END

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