O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

The Mystery of the Mad Mesmerist 8 (hypno celeb)

by hypnojon32

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The morning after the storm dawned crisp and clear. Chet’s alarm rang shrilly at 6 AM sharp. He jumped out of bed and opened his bedroom curtains and threw open the sash. He took a few cleansing breaths of morning air, feeling more and more awake by the second. He gazed at the rosy pink sky and the orange, yellow and red leaves littering the street. Everything seemed gorgeous.

Chet ducked back inside and began a series of stretching exercises in the nude. Leg squats. Bending at the hips. Stretching to the side all the way and then after that hand standing, bending backward and landing on his feet.

After stretching, Chet opened his closet and pulled out his workout bench. Still in the nude, he began pumping iron using the free weights he had collected over the years.

Biceps. Forearms. Shoulders. Chet did 3 sets of each. Then he hooked up the long weight and lay back and did a set of bench pressing. Then another. And another. And another.

Strange. He should be exhausted by now. But instead, Chet felt more energized with each passing set. And stronger as well. He could almost see and feel his muscles respond and grow with each rise and fall of the weights.

But of course that was just his imagination. But still. It was hot. Covered with a light sheen of sweat, Chet went over to the window and basked in the early morning sun again. The curtains were open but Chet didn’t care; besides his window faced the side.

Standing in front of the mirror, Chet began to flex and pose each muscle, checking its process and imagining again how it would be when it was even bigger.

It was autoerotic. As he flexed the left bicep he felt his dick quiver. When he flexed his right bicep, he could feel it grow. When he flexed his pecs, wiggling each one up and down, he was fully erect.

He faced the window, his dick pointing straight up, all 10” of it. He put his left heel on the windowsill and stretched and flexed his left leg. Imagined it a tree trunk of pure sinew. He replaced it with the right leg. Stretched and flexed. As he bent forward to stretch his thigh a little more, Chet saw his next door neighbor, Mrs. Harper peeking out of her bedroom window, half hiding behind her lacy curtains, eyes wide. Mrs. Harper was in her late 30 something’s with brown hair, fairly good looks for a woman her age, 6 kids ranging from ages 2-18 years old, and a husband who didn’t believe in birth control.

Normally, Chet would have jumped back and closed the curtains in embarrassment. But today he continued stretching. He pretended he had not seen her. He bent again, his forehead touching his heel. When he lifted up, he saw that she was now openly staring. Also in the next window over he saw her 18 year old son, Davis also cautiously staring out from behind the curtain.

Interesting.

Still pretending not to have noticed them, Chet flexed each bicep, running his other hand over the sizable mound in a blatant display of self worship. Then he wiggled his pecs again at the Harpers. Davis sighed and leaned his cheek on his palm and stared off into space. Mrs. Harper ducked behind the curtains, and then cautiously peeked out again.

Again, Chet wondered in the sudden change in himself. Normally, he would have been extremely embarrassed. But today, he was emboldened, even turned on by the idea that he was being watched, that he was being enjoyed by others, almost as much as he was enjoying himself.

He turned around and touched his toes a few times, mooning the two Harpers with his tight bubble butt.

Then he went back over to his workout station and did another sssllooowww set of his upper body. Bicep curls. Overhead. Forearm curls. Back and shoulders. All the while making sure he was visible from the window. All the while hard as a rock. All the while surreptitiously making sure Mrs. Harper and Davis were still watching. They were transfixed.

By the time Chet was done, his entire body was covered with a light sheen of sweat. Still fully aroused, he slowly approached the window, looked at a central spot between the two windows, and slowly and deliberately winked.

Two shocked mouths dropped open. Two sets of curtains slammed shut. Chuckling, Chet slowly closed his own curtains and went to take a shower.

Afterward, he discovered it was only 7:30 AM and he was still full of pep. He decided to go for a quick mile run. He got dressed in some sneakers, shorts and a red tank top and took off.

As he passed by the Harpers’, the front door jerked open. Mrs. Harper stood there in a fluffy pink robe.

“Chet! Oh Chet, dear!” she called.

Well! He thought, This should be interesting!

“Yes, Mrs. Harper?” he asked politely, jogging in place.

“Word around the neighborhood is that you are pretty handy around the house. Is that true?” she asked.

“I’m pretty good with my hands,” Chet acknowledged, “What did you have I mind?”

“Well, Mr. Harper is as lazy as a bump on a log, and plumbers are so darn expensive – and well - I – I was wondering if you’d come over later and – take a look at my pipes,” she said.

“Sure, that sounds do-able,” Chet answered, “In fact, you might also want to talk to Davis. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind coming down and making us a sandwich!”

Chuckling softly at her expression, mouth open and shutting like a fish out of water, Chet took off again, up the street, and around the block.

***

After a quick mile run, Chet returned home, showered and was out the door to school. He was halfway there when he ran into Tony, also on the way to school.

“Hi Chet,” Tony said casually, “How’s it goin?”

“Not bad,” Chet answered.

The two fell in step beside each other.

Tony was nervous but he hid it well. Pretending that everything was normal, he chattered on about this and that, girls, the neurotic teachers they both had, an upcoming test. All the while, he watched Chet out of the corner of his eye.

Chet wiped away a slick sheen of sweat from his forehead for what seemed like the gazillionth time. It was weird. Something was wrong. Chet knew that everything should have been cool, but instead, whenever he looked over at Tony he felt as if he was looking over at a dead man. As if he shouldn’t be there. But that was crazy. This was his good buddy, Tony. Chet sneaked another peek. And shuddered. And Tony saw. And smiled to himself.

When they reached school, the two young men passed a pay phone. At the sight of it, Chet was instantly and visibly comforted. The sweat on his forehead disappeared. He took a deep breath.
“Excuse me Tony,” he said, hearing himself as if he were a long way off, “I need to make a call.”
Without waiting for a response, Chet moved toward the phone. Yes. A call. Calling would make everything better. He needed to call. Needed to call now.

With each step toward the phone, Chet felt his muscles grow larger and larger. His legs grew into taut tree trunks. His arms grew from 15-20”. His pecs widened and pushed forward. His jaw seemed to square and become ultra masculine. At the start of the transformation, Chet’s t-shirt and athletic pants fit him quite well. When his stepped up to the phone, they stretched over him like a second skin.

Chet picked up the receiver. A number popped into his mind. He dialed it.

“Who’s calling?”

“This is the brawn. I have an urgent report,” said a deep, masculine voice. Chet realized with amazement that it was his own.

“This is the brain. What is it?”

“Tony is alive.”

“What?!”

“Tony is alive. I ran into him on the way to school. He’s right over…he’s gone. He must have gone into the school. There is a crowd. What are your orders?”

There was a pause. “Wait. Wait until lunch time, find Frank and Joe and trigger them using the phrase – Hardy Hypno’ed. Master needs you. Find Tony and offer to take him to lunch. When you have him alone you will capture and kidnap him. Bring him to me. Frank and Joe will know where.”

“I hear and understand, Master. I will obey.”

“Good. When you hang up, you will wake up and forget you called. You will forget this conversation. But when you hear the lunch bell, you will once again become my muscle slave and carry out my orders.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Hang up then.” There was a click.

Chet hung up as well.

Chet stood there looking at the phone blankly for a few seconds. What had he been doing? Why was he staring at the phone as if he expected it to ring? Was he going to call someone? Vaguely he remembered dismissing Tony for some reason. Next second he was in front of this telephone, staring at it as if he expected it to sing and dance.

A bell rang in the distance. Oh Geez! He was late! He took off running full tilt to class.

 

When Chet unexpectedly walked off, Tony smiled slightly in amusement. He watched as Chet puffed out his chest and held his arms out to the side and down as if he were an oversized body builder. When he reached the phone he listened to Chet tell whoever it was that he was alive in a deep, masculine voice that did not match Chet’s body.

Quickly, he moved away, melted into the crowd of students. He knew he would be seeing Chet again all too soon.

***

The lunch bell rang.

Chet was nearly trapped at his desk as his body again expanded. His chest grew wider and outward to a massive 45”. Again, his clothes seemed to fit him like a second skin. His conscious mind dropped away into a dark void of sleep and a new persona took over. A persona of confidence. A persona of obedience. Wrong was right and now he knew what he had to do.

Frank and Joe were making their way up the aisle from the back of the class. Chet held out a massive arm and placed a ham sized hand on Frank’s chest to stop him.

Frank tried to step past Chet and was surprised and slightly afraid when he could not. Chet’s arm was like iron.

“What’s up, Chet?” he asked lightly.

“Can I talk to you boys outside before we all go for lunch?” Chet asked in his muscle slave voice.

“Well, sure. What’s happened to your voice?” Frank asked.

“Nothin. See you boys outside.”

Chet waited outside till the rest of the class had gone and there was virtually no-one but him and the Hardy boys in the halls.

“What’s this all about, Chet?” asked Joe.

“Hardy Hypno’ed. Master needs you.” Chet said.

“We’re listening.” they said as one.

 

Tony had just settled down by his favorite window with a bag lunch when Frank, Joe, and Chet came marching around the corner.

“Hi, Tony,” Frank said casually, “How’s it going?”

“Not bad.”

“Hey, Tony, you don’t really wanna eat that old bag lunch, do ya?” Chet asked brusquely, “The boys and me are going off campus to MacDonald’s to eat. Why don’t you come with? My treat.”

“Well…ok.” Tony agreed.

The set off and in what seemed like no time they were out in the parking lot at the Hardys’ car.
Several things happened at once. Chet took a quick look around. There was nobody around. Frank fumbled with his keys in the lock. Joe opened the trunk.

“Why’d you open the trunk, Joe? What’s going – MMMMPPHHH!”

Without warning, Chet grabbed Tony from behind, around the arms and chest and hand-gagging him with the other. He pulled him around to the back of the car. With the trunk open, it now effectively blocked them from the sight of the school.

Meanwhile, Frank had unlocked the car. He pulled out the roll of duct tape

Tony struggled wildly. Somehow, his elbow connected with Chet’s stomach. He broke free and managed to cry out – “HELP! HELP! SOME-MMMMMPPHHH!!!” - before he was grabbed and hand-gagged again. He struggled and bucked wildly.

“Hold him still!” Joe commanded in a harsh voice.

“I’m tryin’! It’s not that easy!” Chet grunted.

“Hold him round the waist!” Joe instructed, “That’s the way. Good.” He pulled his fist back and gave Tony a love tap in the solar plexus. Tony’s breath went out of him and he went limp.

Working quickly, the boys bent Tony over the side of the trunk. Tony’s eyes widened. The trunk was filled with rope. Lots of it. Meters of it, all of it different lengths.

Chet grabbed a long length of rope and wrapped it around Tony’s chest, coiling it a couple times around each bicep, and then wrapping it 6 times around his chest, effectively tying his arms to his chest. He tied it off in a vicious knot at the back. He reached into the trunk and grabbed another length and started to tie Tony’s hands behind his back.

Tony finally got his breath back. He sucked in a huge breath. Then he opened it to yell for help again.
But the Hardy Boys were ready and waiting. Joe stuffed in a blue bandanna (where had that come from?) and Frank was waiting with the silver duct tape. He wound the tape several times around his head. When he was done, Tony could only make some weak groaning sounds. As Frank did that, and Chet was busy binding his wrists, Joe grabbed another length of rope and bent to tie his ankles.
After Tony was punched in the stomach, he was so disoriented he was unable to struggle. And when he got his breath back, after what seemed like ages, his upper body was effectively immobilized and he was unable move, much less struggle.

Joe finished tying his ankles together. With little effort, he was lifted and tipped into the trunk, tied hand, chest, and foot. The trunk slammed down.

Tony was filled with icy fear. He had been effectively tied and gagged, kidnapped in less time than it takes to say, “Would you like fries with that?” What would happen now?

The motor started and the car began to move.

***

The car stopped and the motor shut off.

The trunk popped open.

Tony’s forlorn face with wide eyes and his mouth hidden by a silver band peeked out. He groaned feebly.

Chet, Frank and Joe bent over him menacingly. A cloth bag was slipped over his head. His ankles were untied and he was lifted out of the trunk. Held on either side by two of them, he was hustled/guided into a building. Tony decided it was best not to struggle. At least for now.
When they finally stopped and the bag was removed, Tony knew what he would see but it was still a shock. Exactly the same as his brother’s and yet vastly different as well because his face was so twisted with evil, Mesmero sat behind his old desk smiling smugly.

“Ungag the prisoner!” he said.

Carefully the silver band was cut off. Tony winced as hair from the back of his neck was ripped away. The blue bandanna was removed.

“Where am I?” Tony demanded.

“It doesn’t matter. How did you survive?”

“It doesn’t matter.” parroted Tony, “What are you going to do with me?”

Mesmero sat back and smiled even wider. “You know,” he said.

“Nooo….. I don’t,” Tony returned crossly.

“You remember that night. You remember the deal we made… Death…or a life of willing servitude to me.”

Tony cast his mind back to that fateful night.

“Well Tony, like I said, I’m going to take you at your word. I was going to leave my brother down here to die alone but now you can keep him company. Now here’s the deal. You can have the honorable death in freedom that you crave so much. “But if you do escape and survive, somehow then that means you didn’t mean what you said. You would rather not die which means you would rather serve me. Which means you must then seek me out to accept your fate and take your place by my side. Understand?”

“Yes, I remember that all too well. And then you killed me. Or tried to.”

“I didn’t try and kill you. You chose to die. But you must have changed your mind because here you are. You survived. Survived to remember that you belong to me, according to our deal. A remembrance that led you back to me.”

“Nothing led me to you,” Tony pointed out, “You had me kidnapped.”

“You knew that would happen as soon as you showed your face in public,” Mesmero said irrationally.
Tony opened his mouth and then closed it again. He realized nothing would get through to this crazy man. “I won’t submit to you,” he stated firmly, “Never.”

Moving slowly and fluidly, Mesmero got up and moved in front of the desk, never breaking eye contact. Tony stared back like a deer in the headlights.

“Wha – what are you going-“

“COLLAR ON!” Mesmero said commandingly.

Tony distinctly felt a cool smoothness around his neck. Against his will, he felt his feet and toes relax. He tried to lift them, to get away, but they would not move. The relaxation spread upward slowly, silkily, unstoppable. He felt as if he were sinking into a warm bath. And the more he sank the more his body refused to respond. He struggled ineffectually and then even these stopped.

“No…” he whispered in horror.

“Oh yes. Oh, at last, yes!” Mesmero whispered back, now directly in front of him. “You can untie him,” he waved at Chet, “He is no longer a threat.”

As Chet hastened to obey, Mesmero ran his fingers up and down Tony’s chest. “You can feel it can’t you? Your body losing control. Your body responding to me now. Only to me. You feel my fingers and your body craves my touch. Don’t you?”

Suddenly every nerve ending was on fire. Mesmero’s questing fingers cast tingles of pleasure all through his body and when an errant fingertip brushed a nipple, Tony found himself arching to meet it. Mesmero soon caught on and was playing Tony’s chest like a well tuned violin.

Tony sighed and went limp. Mesmero put an arm around his shoulder and Tony leaned against it. Mesmero reached under his shirt, pulled it free of his pants and pulled the front up and over Tony’s head, revealing his smooth and muscled torso. Starting at his navel, Mesmero traced a slow path upward with splayed fingers.

“You have no idea how much I’ve craved this,” Mesmero whispered, “Dreamed of your smooth, Italian body. And now it’s mine! All mine!”

He reached with both hands and captured both nips. “You know that now. Don’t you?!”

Tony gasped with sensation and his mind and reason grew fuzzy. He was aware of everything and yet his body was desperate to continue. Dimly, he thought about telling Mesmero to go fuck himself.
Instead his mouth said, “Yes, Mass-“

Mesmero bent over him and silenced him with a kiss.

Tony’s mind screamed no but his body screamed yes. His mouth opened but he refused to return the kiss. As a result Mesmero’s tongue plunged boldly in and thoroughly plundered the young man’s mouth.

Tony tried to struggle but it was no use. First his feet, then legs, then chest and arms felt as if they had turned to lead. It was if he had been shot full of Novocain and was unable to respond in any way. He tried to shove Mesmero away from him but only managed a few weak taps before they dangled downward limply.

Mesmero laughed in evil triumph. He dragged Tony over to the bedroll, his legs limp, feet dragging on the floor. He laid him gently down and pulled off his shirt the rest of the way. He quickly stripped to the waist himself revealing a well defined torso. He again kissed Tony thoroughly.

Throughout all this, Frank, Joe, and Chet stood at attention in a row, eyes straight front, staring at nothing.

“Well, my Italian stallion, are you ready to be initiated into the wonders of man love?” Mesmero asked diabolically.

“No…don’t…please…” Tony whispered weakly, “If you have any decency….stop this…please stop…”

“Touch my chest…feel the muscle…feel the hard strength. Play with it…like I did with yours,” Mesmero commanded pitilessly.

Woodenly, Tony’s hand rose to obey. He felt nothing. Mesmero groaned in pleasure and kissed him again. Tony fought down the bile.

Mesmero’s hand stroked his chest again and then moved below the belt. He undid Tony’s pants and pulled down his fly.

Tony’s whole body was a dead weight. He tried to struggle against the bonds of his own mind’s creation but it was no use. He couldn’t move. Mesmero reached inside his pants questing for Tony’s man meat.

Tony thought fast.

Taking a deep breath, he jerked his head upward and kissed Mesmero with as much passion as he could. In his mind’s eye he imagined a cute redhead he had his eye on at school who wouldn’t give him the time of day.

Mesmero was delighted. He kissed back, and pulled his hands out of Tony’s pants and began another slow session of body contact upward. He cupped Tony around the back of the neck and lightly stroked the tiny hairs there lightly.

Tony gasped and moaned against his will. It was the most erotic thing he had felt so far and it made him feel very conflicted.

As Mesmero hand began to wander down again, Tony groaned and said, “Wait, no! Please, wait. What about them?”

Mesmero glanced over at the other three, unconcerned. “What about them?”

“Are we gonna do it in front of them? With them watching?”

“Awww, that’s so cute! You’re shy!” Mesmero stroked Tony’s cheek with a forefinger. Tony managed to hide a shudder of revulsion.

“Well, don’t worry. They can’t see us. They’re just on standby right now. All right?”

“But what if they wake up? Especially if we’re right in the middle of doin’ it?”

“Then I’ll just put them all under again. They’re all triggered with post-hypnotics after all. Now enough worrying.”

Mesmero bent to kiss Tony again and followed up with a double assault, tit-playing with one hand and gently stroking his cock with the other.

Tony bided his time, kissing him back, stroking his chest slowly, and trying in vain to stop his body from responding to Mesmero’s stroking.

Then he said as if it had just occurred to him, “So, what are these triggers that you have them set with? I mean, it’s just I wouldn’t want to call them out accidentally, especially right now. Oh wow! I have to admit that feels great!”

“Why would you want to know that!?” Mesmero asked suspiciously.

“Uhhh… well, no reason, I guess. Like I said, just don’t want to wake them accidentally. Is there a problem Mezzy?” Tony asked carefully, gently stroking his chest lazily.

“I guess not. And don’t call me Mezzy.”

“Sorry,” lied Tony.

“Anyway, there’s no way you can wake them up now. They respond only to my voice. And I tailor each trigger to the individual. Like yours. Collar on. Collar off…”

The cool smoothness disappeared as did the heaviness. He could move again!

Tony jackknifed to a sitting position and pulled a fist back…

Mesmero caught it easily. Tony struggled.

“And collar on again. Twice as deep as before.”

Tony groaned as his strength drained out of him again like water out of a hole in a bucket. Mesmero laughed again in triumph and placed the offending arm around his neck and again kissed Tony deeply, relishing the young man’s fading struggles and rising surrender.

Gently, he laid the young man back down. Tony groaned in despair. It was as if his body was made of stone. He tried moving, lifting his arm, his leg and could barely raise either an inch.

“Enough foreplay! Let’s see what you’ve got down there for me.” Mesmero roughly pulled Tony’s pants down to his knees, and then his underpants revealing a beautiful 9” olive skinned cock.

Still tit-playing him, Mesmero bent and delicately licked the head, making Tony groan with the sensations. Mesmero licked again and again, moving deeper and deeper each time. He took the entire head into his mouth and just stopped, waiting. Tony could feel his tongue wickedly at work.

“No…no…stop…” he groaned, but as if they had a mind of their own his hips moved up and down, reaching for more of Mesmero’s wicked tongue. Mesmero sighed in contentment as his prisoner unwillingly face-fucked him.

After a while, Mesmero began to move as well. Faster and faster he moved, driving Tony crazy with confusion and desire. Tony knew this felt wrong but at the same time, he couldn’t help but admit it felt so right as well. Soon he was bucking with wild abandon, reaching, reaching, and questing for…something…something…

As Tony’s moans indicated that he was about to climax, Mesmero pulled out, and jerked him fast. “Now cum! Cum hard and as you do, let the last of your resistance pump out along with your seed. Feel yourself become completely submissive and my willing slave! Cum hard now!”

Tony arched and cried out and climaxed for the first time in his 18 years. It was so powerful he could not decide between pleasure and pain. It was amazing. His hips bucked wildly as 8 streams of ropy cum sprayed out onto his chest. As it did, Tony could feel himself obeying the mad mesmerist. All resistance, hope, thought of escape pumped out of him as well. All desire for rescue vanished. A small part of him that was sleuth Tony was there, but it was so very small and now it was trapped, buried deep inside his mind, able to see and hear everything but unable to speak or interact as a new, stronger persona took over.

As his first orgasm ever, faded, Tony blinked and looked up at the mad mesmerist with a new glint in his eyes. “Well, Mesmero, I told you I would never submit to you. It seems you’ve proven me wrong. You have conquered me and made me yours.”

He reached up and stroked Mesmero’s cheek with a thumb.

“Command me, my wonderful, sexy Master; it will be my joy to obey you!”

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This story is copyright © 7 November 2004 by hypnojon32. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fan fiction. The Hardy boys and their friends were created by Franklin W Dixon. No copyright infringement is intended.
This story contains male/male sex, s/m role-play, and hypnofetishism.
Duplication of this story is allowed only for non-profit purposes. Any duplication of this file must include these copyright messages intact.

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