Afternoon Nap (mm hypno mc mast)
by mcgarguy
A bunch of the local guys shooting the breeze on a stifling hot summer afternoon changed the subject from trucks and fishing... to the secretive occupant of the house on the corner.
“I think your new neighbor is strange. Where did he come from?"
“He's weird if you ask me."
The close gang had grown up together; gone to school together, and they had graduated together. They were old friends, but this new guy was an outsider. And they didn't much trust outsiders.
“No, he's ok. He's from out of town, but he's alright," said Johnny.
“Yeah? Well, he doesn't talk much. He's always in his yard or garage working, but he never talks to anyone."
So Johnny continued: “No, really, he's alright. I met him yesterday and he's not bad. You should go over and meet him sometime. You'll like him."
Later in the afternoon, it was Ryan who decided he'd break the ice. Johnny had vouched for the new neighbor. How bad could someone be? They probably had lots in common, so after his friends left, he pulled up his courage and went to say hello.
As usual, the new guy was working in his garage; both doors wide open in the heat. The garage was filled with boxes, and tools, and a couple big old, worn, dusty chairs. Plus there was a large beer cooler with cold perspiration dripping down the sides that was somehow, almost beckoning on such a blistering summer's day.
It sure looked inviting enough and Ryan decided this was going to be good. The poor fool; he was already lowering his guard.
Marcus was standing at his workbench when he looked up and saw Ryan walking up the drive. This one was trim and fine looking in a rock-star T shirt and skimpy white shorts. And yes, it was one of Johnny's buddies. Good, Marcus thought with a smile, Johnny was working out well, and fortunately his visitor was coming alone. Marcus didn't know how he would handle two at once; he preferred his guests one at a time.
“Hi, I'm Ryan, how are you?" greeted Ryan, “And I'm Marcus, nice to meet you," replied Marcus with a friendly, welcoming handshake.
Marcus offered Ryan an ice cold beer, which he accepted without argument, and then Marcus offered to show him around the garden. And as the beer began to sink in, Ryan started to like Marcus; he seemed a nice enough neighbor. The others had been wrong and Johnny had been right. Ryan could feel comfortable with Marcus. He relaxed some, and enjoyed the tour, and he enjoyed Marcus's soothing conversation, so calming, as they walked around in the almost blinding sun.
But as they stood out in the heat, Marcus watched Ryan very carefully for a clue. There had to be a key to get into Ryan's mind, a way to seduce his will; something. The sun was so bright, and the summer air was so hot, it practically sapped your strength. And the insects were buzzing softy making it a lazy, sleepy afternoon. It was a perfect chance. There had to be a way.
And as Marcus pointed at the garden, something caught Ryan's eye: the large ring on Marcus's hand. It was big and bold, and it shone in the light. It sparkled. The heavy gold ring captured his attention and he stopped noticing the garden at all. Even Marcus's voice seemed to fade; it was such a magnificent ring.
Marcus saw Ryan's gaze caught by his ring, and at first he wasn't sure, but he watched carefully, and yes, Ryan was transfixed by the thing; his eyes followed it. And Marcus smiled, he had his key: the ring. Ryan would be almost as easy as Johnny had been. Now was the time. So he whispered: “Let's go back into the garage for another beer, ok?"
Back in the garage, Marcus offered Ryan the big, roughed-up leather recliner near the open doors. “Sit back and relax," he told Ryan casually, and Ryan complied. “You sure look tired; the summer can take its toll. The heat makes you drowsy, doesn't it? It almost makes you want to take a nice afternoon nap." And Ryan felt himself sink into the chair. Yes, his legs were so tired; yes, his arms were so heavy. Yes, the heat made him drowsy.
Marcus was standing near him and kept talking to him rhythmically, gently, in such an inviting monotone, he had to listen. As Marcus spoke, it was easy to relax.
And then Marcus held his hand out towards Ryan, showing him the ring, and suddenly all Ryan could see was the ring. “Look at my ring." Marcus commanded. “See how big and beautiful it is. It's so nice to look deep into the gem, you cannot look away." Ryan couldn't help but focus on it. The rest of his vision began to blur but the jewel began to sharpen, and Ryan found himself gazing clearly into the depth of the crystal. His eyes became locked on it. Everything else began to fade away, except for the ring and the smooth sound of Marcus's voice. And the voice was seductive and penetrating.
Something down in Ryan's mind told him that this wasn't right; something was wrong here. He thought he should resist the growing stupor but all he could hear was: “Relax. Yes, that's it. Relax. Breath slowly, nice and deep."
Ryan was feeling so relaxed and comfortable now as he continued to gaze into the ring moving slowly back and forth. Back... and... forth... he couldn't take his eyes off it. Somehow, it emptied his mind; made it hard for him to think. “It's so warm out and it's making you feel so relaxed, isn't it." As the monotone continued, Ryan's whole body started to feel so warm and heavy. The voice coaxed him down further: “you're feeling so sleepy, aren't you?" And he heard himself lazily respond: “yes, so sleepy..."
“You are so very sleepy, you want to let go and fall deep asleep. You cannot resist."
Again, somewhere down inside, his subconscious alarm sounded. Stop. Don't let him.... but he saw the beautiful ring before him, and the gem was so big and bright and powerful, moving slowly in a wide circle, pulling him down, and it grew in his mind; it seemed to block out all thought, and the voice returned: “Yes, that's it, just relax. You are falling down deep asleep. Deeper and deeper, you cannot resist." “... I... cannot... resist... “ It was so easy for him to agree.
He could feel himself letting go, feel himself going deeper, and he felt so helpless, and yet he felt so content. And the voice continued to penetrate still deeper into his mind: “Everything I tell you makes you feel better. Everything I tell you, you want to obey."
He heard himself say: “I... want... to obey..." and it was a relief to say so.
Nothing would worry him any more, nothing would bother him. And still, the gentle voice worked its way down deeper.
“You know you can trust me totally."
“Trust you... totally..." His mind was empty now. He felt safe and at peace.
“And everything I command you will make you feel better and better."
“... better and better... “
“You are in my power." “... I am in your power... “
Marcus repeated the commands, and listened to his subject respond to his commands, over and over, and slip still deeper into the trance. He smiled a most delighted smile knowing his prey was falling so helplessly under his total control now. He continued to coax Ryan's mind, probing deep, opening it up to further suggestion, erasing memories, making it want to serve and obey.
And it had been so easy, even easier than with Johnny. He glanced at his ring, and wondered for a moment about its power over others. Then he turned back to his new boy and continued:
“I am your Master," he said.
And the boy softly responded: “Yes... you are my Master."
The boy had the most wonderful, most bemused look on his face. His eyes were closed now. Deep down inside his mind, he was still focusing on the ring, watching it with pleasure as it made those slow, wide circles through space, even though his Master was no longer near. Marcus was standing back, away from the chair, gloating over his new boy.
And the Master spent some time, and enjoyed brainwashing his new boy for a while, and playing with him. He took one hand and began to stroke his boy's neck, and with his other, he ran his fingers along his boy's chin, and along his boy's lips. And in a wonderful act of submission, the boy took the fingers into his mouth and began to suck. Marcus grinned as he continued to play with his boy's mind.
And then, when he could wait no longer:
“Now Ryan, you will rise and follow your Master into the yard. The sunlight will not wake you from the peaceful trance you're in right now. You will remain deep asleep outside." “Yes... Master." Ryan replied, and he slowly rose from the big chair.
Marcus led him back out into the sun, back out into the yard between the fence and the garage. And Ryan followed passively, obediently, padding heavily, with the most innocent look on his face, truly happy to be following his Master.
Marcus looked about quickly; no one was around to see them just yet.
“Now boy, you are still deep in my power."
“Yes... deep in your power..." Ryan agreed.
“And you are falling still deeper and deeper into my power, aren't you boy."
“Yes... deeper... and deeper."
“And as you fall deeper, your cock is beginning to grow hard isn't it boy."
Marcus watched Ryan's crotch start to twitch and bulge.
“As you listen to my commands, your cock is getting harder and harder. You cannot stop it. You can feel your cock growing." “Yes... harder... and... harder," Ryan agreed, still that vacant smile on his vacant face.
It grew long and it rose right up through those thin shorts, right out the top, and began to press. And Marcus watched with glee; this was going to be so sweet. “Your cock is becoming rock hard now."
The poor boy's cock was pushing against his shorts, straining; it was almost too much to bear.
Marcus looked around again, checked the front, checked the back, past the bushes; no one was in sight.
“You have to touch yourself, don't you boy. You have to remove your shorts and stroke yourself. You cannot resist it. You cannot help yourself. You have to do it right here, right now, don't you boy."
Now Ryan was squirming in his shorts, he had to do it. He had to obey.
“You have to stroke yourself right now, right here. Take your shorts off right here, boy, and obey your Master. Take your cock in your hands and obey. You have to stroke yourself hard don't you."
By now, the boy had an almost frantic smile on his face, wild, as he dropped his shorts down to his sandals. He didn't care that he was outside, he didn't care that people might be watching, he just had to do as his Master commanded. He left his shorts around his feet; he was so eager to grab his cock and start masturbating. Then he slowed down a little, it felt so good. He looked back up at his Master, and he had such a look of sexual pleasure as he rewarded himself. And his Master had a most sinister grin; this scene felt just fine to him too:
The two of them were standing in the yard, in the open air. Almost anyone might catch them at any moment: Marcus the Master - and his new hypnotized boy standing there mindlessly in the yard stroking on his big, hard cock for all the world to see. Anyone coming down the street might catch them, or anyone in the alley might stop and look. He glanced around, no one to the right, no one to the left. No one was there now, but it could happen any second. They could be caught any moment.
Imagine the excitement: the Hypnotist Master... and his sweet, brainwashed, mindfucked boy standing outside, naked in the sun, happily jacking off, unaware, and unconcerned, and so eager to obey.
His love of exhibitionism and the desire to be discovered was strong. He imagined the thrill of being caught: the hysteria, the police reports, the articles in the local press, and maybe even the embarrassing photos of his naked boy too. Like last time, at his last house, in his previous town, with his previous neighbor, that hot looking construction worker, the muscular laborer with the red hair who never saw it coming.
Yes, the thrill had been worth the price. Marcus had had to move to a new town, but now he was free to start over; start over with this new gang of unsuspecting buddies.
However, no one was going to catch him right now; the alley remained too empty, the street was quiet. And the neighbors stayed behind curtained windows. So Marcus commanded his boy to finish: “Shoot boy, you have to shoot now. Shoot for your Master. You have to obey your Master's commands." And he held his ring forward to help his boy focus.
The boy's eyes fell upon the big bright ring just as before, and they crossed as he beat harder. “Yes Master. I... must... obey...my... Master..."
“Shoot, shoot now boy, obey your Master." The boy's eyes locked onto the ring as he shot his load all over himself, his shorts, his shirt, and the yard. Marcus just grinned at him, then laughed out loud at him, and enjoyed this moment of total, humiliating control. And he let the moment linger a little while longer.
And that was enough for him. Marcus did not feel any need for any sex himself right now.
You see, that's not why he does this. Controlling his boy and making him masturbate and squirt out here for the whole town to see is the only enjoyment he truly desires. That's how it is with some guys. That's how it is with Marcus. Watching his victim standing there in the wide open, naked, spent, with the sun glistening off the dripping cum is all the sexual pleasure he ever really wants.
Yeah, Power can actually feel that good.
But, finally, Marcus had Ryan pull his shorts back up, and he led the obedient boy, sweating, physically exhausted, back into the shady garage and sat him back down in the dusty chair next to the beer. While Ryan lay there with his eyes closed, sleeping peacefully, Marcus probed a little deeper into his mind, and reprogrammed it, and ended with “and you will remember nothing at all."
And Ryan agreed one last time: “I will remember nothing at all." And when Ryan awoke, he smiled; he stretched, he downed his beer, he complained about the summer heat, and he apologized that he needed to be going. He didn't notice all the stains drying on his shorts and shirt.
As Ryan walked back down the drive, Marcus called out to him: “Be sure to tell your friends to come by," and on cue, Ryan dutifully responded: “I sure will!" And Marcus returned to his work.
Walking along street, Ryan finally discovered that his clothes were covered with stains. He was confused. Sweat? Beer? It had to be beer. That's odd, he didn't remember spilling any beer. Then, slightly amused, he realized they kind of looked... sort of looked... a lot like cum. He laughed; he laughed out loud, and he wondered what Marcus might have thought if he had seen. Fortunately, Marcus hadn't seen. Thank god Marcus hadn't seen. Ryan went quickly home to change.
END