Takedown 2 (hypno)
by Mindbender
Inside the locker room office I told the hypnotized coach to sit down behind his desk. I shut the door and sat down across the from him. When I sat down I let the silence hang for several seconds. I wanted the power of the moment to seep deeper into Coach Amato’s mind.
Fuck this man was hot. I had to have him! I wanted to get him so fucking deep. And when I got him there, I wanted to explore every inch of him. Kiss him, touch him, tease him, play with his muscles, play with his ass and cock, bring him to the edge over and over. I stared into Coach’s deep brown eyes. He hadn’t blinked in almost a minute. That flash of an instant where you know they’ve locked on to you is always so fucking hot.
While he silently sat there, I looked around his desk for something I could use to deepen my control over him, and in my search, I noticed a family picture he had in a frame directly across him. It was an old photograph of just him and someone who looked like his son. I was happy to know that a stud like Coach would have progeny he spread his amazing genes to. After I put back the frame on the desk, I found what I was looking for.
I picked up the pen from his desk and began drawing a circle on his large desk calendar. “Relax. Take a deep breath, Coach. I’m here to make you feel good, and you feel so good right now, don’t you, Coach?”
“Y-y-yes.”
“I’m here to drive you insane with lust and horniness. You need that, don’t you, Coach?”
“Y-y-yes.”
“Take a look down at your calendar. What do you see?”
“You drawingcircles.”
“Spirals, Coach. Spirals.”
“Sspiralsss…” Watching his head moving slightly in circles to my hand and hearing him starting to slur his words even more was giving me a fucking boner.
“That’s right, Coach. Spirals. Intensely inviting, relaxing spirals. Just watch that spiral, Coach. Follow it with your eyes. Feel it penetrating you. Massaging you. Relaxing you. I want you to take a very deep breath in, and when you exhale, I want you give in to the spiral. Allow your body to let go. Allow your mind to take you deeper. Deeper with every breath you exhale. Every word you hear. Every sound around you,” I said as I continued drawing my spiral. Slowly. Methodically. Patiently.
Was it possible to be drawing a circle seductively? If so, then that’s what I was doing, seducing this Italian wrestler stud with my spirals. It was clear that Coach was going to be an easy one to get. He was already so focused on the spiral I was drawing and my words. His muscles were relaxing more and more with each loop I drew and every word I spoke. I would occasionally lightly stomp my foot to reinforce the “every sound around you” part of my instruction to take him deeper. By the hard on I could see he already had, though, taking him was going to be a fucking joy. So as I continued taking him deeper and deeper, I slowly got him to give control of his cock to me, as well. I instructed my mindfucked prize to stand. As he did, his hard cock made his sweat pants stick out to a length that took my breath away. It was absolutely fucking beautiful to watch the enormous, flaring helmet head growing and throbbing. I turned Coach’s cock into antenna for my words. I told Coach to feel my words wrapping around his cock. So wet. So warm. So relaxing. Pulling him deeper. The more he felt my words blowing his cock, the deeper he would go, and the better he would feel.
I instructed Coach Amato to begin stripping. With each and every article of clothing he took off he would go ten times deeper into relaxation. Into obedience. Into submission. Into my voice. Into my will. Into my desires.
First he took off his cap. His cock head flared in his sweat pants again, and a tiny wet spot began forming where the tip of his cock touched the sweats. Coach then slowly removed his tank top. His cock visibly trembled and the wet spot grew bigger. His chest and belly was covered in that closely-cropped salt and pepper hair just like his face and head.
“Stop undressing,” I ordered him. I walked to him and lightly ran my hand through the coarse hair. Grazing his nipples. Lightly running my fingers down is rippled, tight abs. Making circles around his navel. I stepped back, my own cock now granite hard. “Continue undressing and going deeper.”
Coach then slowly untied the sweat pants and began pulling them down. He struggled for brief moment trying to get them over his cock, but when he did and stood back I gasped. His pubes were trimmed to the same length of the rest of his body hair, and it was just as salt and peppered as the rest of him. From those trimmed pubes was one of the biggest cocks I have ever seen. It was wrist thick, and stuck straight out from his body. No curve. Just an antenna. Thick, powerful and veiny. Aching to receive more and more signal from the sender.
I took a royal blue wrestling singlet from a pile of clothes in the corner of the room and instructed Coach Amato to slowly slide into it. As he did I wanted him to feel the slick lycra as it moved up his body. Restraining him. Encasing him. Binding him to my will and desires. As he slid the singlet past his wrestling shoes and onto his legs his cock began to stiffen even more. “That right, Coach. Give in. Let go.” He pulled the singlet past his crotch and ass. He visibly trembled as the lycra ensnared his cock in deeper, more mindless pleasures. “Deeper now Coach. Much, much deeper. The more of your singlet you put on, the deeper you go and the more pleasure you can allow yourself to feel.” He slid the singlet over each shoulder, taking himself to an even deeper, more empty, more obedient place. His body’s posture said, “Surrender.” His cock said, “More!”
“Now Coach, I want you to sit down and go even deeper for me. You want to do that, don’t you?”
He nodded affirmatively and slowly sat back down in his chair.
I continued brainwashing Coach, intensifying and deepening it with each and every word, instructing him to use the lycra of the singlet to edge his cock. He had long since forgotten about the spirals on his calendar and was being carried along by my voice. I was stroking his mind. Seducing it. Lulling it deeper to sleep. Making it hungry to hear more. Greedy for more velvety words to caress it. Coach’s cock had been leaking precum and staining his singlet the entire time. I loved being this deeply in control of his cock, filling it with mind-numbing pleasure as it throbbed and oozed. His cock was so hard it was practically ready to rip the fabric wide open. I pulled him deeper into the blissful cycle of my voice and edging himself.
I instructed him to slowly, erotically, slide back out of his singlet, allowing the brush of the fabric against his skin to mindfuck him deeper. As he slid out of his singlet and visibly slid even deeper for me, my horniness made me dizzy. You see, there’s a particular smell to a wrestler, and it’s almost impossible to describe to anyone who’s never wrestled. It’s like the smell of the mats meets the testosterone-filled workout room meets the funky, sweaty smell of the other wrestlers. And it all combines into not just a smell, but a state of mind. Now imagine all of that trapped in a small coach’s office in the form of your hot, Italian stud of a wrestling coach. You’ve just hypnotized him and he’s so fucking deep, your voice is filling up his empty head, his body so loose and limp. He’s completely naked except for his wrestling shoes and headgear. His salt and pepper body hairy is glisteny with sweat and he’s hard as a rock, leaking precum like a faucet. I wanted to make love to his enormous pole so bad! I wanted total control of Coach Amato, no doubt, but I also wanted him to have his mind fucked with pleasure.
I was on my knees with my lips around his cock head before I could even think about it. Fucking intoxicating. The saltiness of his precum filled my mouth with ecstasy. The head of his cock was enormous and my jaws hurt already working on it. But I didn’t care. Coach’s controlled, mindfucked cock felt too fucking good to care. Hearing the empty-headed wrestling coach moaning and groaning, seeing him staring off into nothing, feeling his cock throbbing in my mouth was driving me insane. And my mouth working his cock was driving him deeper into horny abandon. Fuck did his cock taste good! I was careful not to bring him too close to the edge just yet. I knew his coach jizz would feel so hot coating my mouth and throat, but that’s not what I wanted. What I was really hungry for was my mindfucked coach daddy’s cock up my sweet wrestler fuckhole.
I put Coach’s arms on the outside of the chair’s armrests so they would hang freely. I slipped out of my singlet and let my stiff cock spring free. As it did it flung small beads of pearly precum onto Coach Amato’s chest and abs. My hole was fucking on fire for his cock. The sweat on my back was trickling down into the crack of my ass and across my hole, making me hotter and hungrier to work his mindfucked monster cock up inside me. I kept my eyes locked on his, taking him deeper with the words I was speaking straight into his mindfucked brain. Watching his cock getting stiffer and thicker the deeper he went. Beads of precum were bubbling from the head of his cock, coating it. Lubing it. Arousing it. The entire head glistened with precum and shiny strands of it were running down his thick shaft. Every time I made his cock throb harder, more precum would ooze from his piss slit. And every time I made his cock throb harder, my fuckhole quivered and loosened, sending that awesome wave of horny bliss throughout my body.
I came to the chair, grabbed onto Coach Amato’s thick, round shoulders and pulled myself up, putting a foot on each armrest. “Now Coach, I want you to look deeper, much, much deeper into my eyes. Feel me penetrate the deepest fucking parts of your empty brain.” I said starting to slowly squat towards his steel pole of a cock, looking as deep as I could into his eyes.
“Nothing is left to hide. Nothing is left to disguise. Every single minutest part of your mind that’s left is open to me. Exposed. Vulnerable. Hungry for pleasure. Hungry for obedience.” The lips of my fuckhole were quivering like mad. “Hungry to obey ME.” I said as I touched his massive, precum-lubed head to my hole. It was so fucking wet and warm.
“Open your mind to me Coach. Let me have it all! Give it all to ME!” I said as my hole spasmed open and I slid down his massive, veiny coach cock. At the same moment, I grabbed the back of his head, pressed his lips to mine and shoved my tongue into his mouth. Our tongues danced together, making Coach so much hornier for me, and making me so much hornier to work his cock. Fuck he was huge! But I didn’t care. It felt too good to care.
“That’s it Coach. Feel what’s left of you draining into me. Every time I slide down your fucking bone, you give a little more of what’s left. And it feels so fucking good. So fucking good to let me give you so much pleasure. Open yourself more and accept my gift to you, Coach.”
I continued riding him, getting used to his thickness and length. I hadn’t had a cock this big before. Part of me wanted to take my time out of fear for what it could do to me. The other part of me wanted to take my time because of how it was making me feel. I looked even deeper into his eyes. The dance between the bliss of his eyes being pulled deeper into mine and his cock being pulled deeper into my greedy hole was blinding. Beyond being vacant and distant, there was a flash of something else Coach’s eyes. Acceptance. Surrender. And understanding. In that moment, him giving to me so willingly and me so happy to take it from him pushed me deeper into my sexual frenzy. Coach Amato in nothing but his head gear and wrestling shoes, his mind a gazillion miles away, his eyes so fucking vacant. And me, an upcoming tryout candidate, in my headgear and wrestling shoes, riding him for all he was worth. My mindfucked daddy coach.
“Now, Coach..” I said with a thrust all the way down.
“Put...” I thrust all the way down again.
“Me..” And again.
“On...” And again!
“The...” FUCK! AGAIN!
“TEAM!” That brainwashed coach cock shoved balls deep up my piggy little fuckhole.
“Put… Me… On… The… TEAM!” Fuck I didn’t want to stop. His cock was swelling inside me, it was making him give more of himself to me. He was so empty and so vacant. And I was so fucking turned on by the ex-Olympic stud. I wanted him so filled with pleasure that he’d be blinded!
“Put… Me… On… The… TEAM...” I was getting so close to having my cum fucked out of me, and I knew from how deeply I was edging his cock with my walls he would be coming close as well. “...and I’ll allow you to cum. You can do that for me, can’t you coach?”
He tried to mouth the words, but couldn’t. He was so deep and mindfucked that he managed to barely nod his head in the affirmative. I started working up and down on his shaft twice as hard and twice as fast. Gripping the fuck out of it on the way up. And gripping harder on the way down. Milking him furiously for every last drop he was going to give up to me. I could feel his cock starting to throb even harder. I rode harder. His brainwashed cock filling my entire fuckhole wall to wall with veiny, thick pleasure. I gripped as hard as I could on the next time down. And coming back up, I gripped as hard as I could again, and I pulled the cum with me.
My beautiful, mindfucked daddy coach, so open to what I can give him, so willing to allow himself such immense bliss. I grabbed his nipples and told him to grab mine. GOD! That pushed us both over the edge! He started spewing up inside me, coating my insides with his gooey coach spunk. Feeling it hit my prostate started my orgasm rolling and I couldn’t make it stop. My body flooded with endorphins. They all swarmed on my cock and nuts and I erupted in a sea of cum all over Coach’s chest and shoulders.
“Give me your cock, Sal. Let me have your cum,” I said milking him harder and deeper. I swear as we were cumming together his cock felt like it tripled its size, and my hole expanded to make it fit. His cock was driving straight into my brain’s pleasure centers. For a split second, I understood what was so hot about being mindfucked. It must be the ultimate rush! I shot two more loads and I know I worked at least three more out of Coach Stud Cock before we both were completely drained.
Pulling myself off of my deeply brainwashed coach, I kissed him on the forehead, cleaned myself up and started to get dressed. I continued filling Coach’s empty head with my voice as he cleaned himself up and dressed as well. I leaned down and put my lips right to his ear and whispered deep into his brainwashed skull a trigger I wanted him to know. When I told him what the trigger would do Coach gasped and his eyes grew wide with an even deeper vacancy. He quivered in his chair, and even after the fucking we just went through, his cock stood stiff at attention. “You’re also going to put my friend D on the team, Coach,” I whispered.
“Y-y-yes...”
“Now Coach, I’m leaving the room. When you hear the door close, you will fully awaken, having no memory of being under, or that I was in the room. Do you understand, Coach?”
“Yesss. I understand.”
With that I left Coach’s office and shut the door behind me.
***
I was covered in sweat. That had to be one of the toughest tryouts I’d ever been through. I found out pretty quickly that being an All-State wrestler in high school didn’t mean squat in college. I was up against guys from all over the country. And even though D and I were a shoe-in for the team, I wanted to prove to everyone else that he and I deserved to be with them.
Looking over at D, and judging by how soaked he was as well, I could tell he had been put through his paces as hard as I had. In his wrestling singlet, that far away, glazed look in his eyes looked so damn hot. I had spent most of last night brainwashing D deeper than I ever have to prepare him for this morning’s tryouts. I wanted him really focused on the tryouts with no distractions. But also, I made sure that D’s empty mind was also filled with arousal. Arousal for how his singlet would feel on his sweaty muscles. How it would feel rubbing up against who ever he had wrestle. The sweaty smell of other young wrestlers. And most of all, how great it would feel when his cock got hard from all that arousal. How it would rub against the ribbing of his jockstrap’s pouch and make him harder. Make him more focused. More aroused.
After a few hours, the long, grueling tryout was finally over, and the room was filled with sweaty, panting college wrestling muscle. Testosterone was hanging thick in the workout room. “Okay, I’d like to thank you all for coming in today and trying out,” the coach was saying making notes on his clipboard. “If you’d all stick around for about twenty more minutes, I’ll make my decision then post it on the bulletin board in the hallway,” he said walking to a corner of the room to scribble more notes on his clipboard.
As we all mingled, waiting to see the list (like I or D needed to) I thought glancing over at D. He was carrying out the standing instructions I’d given him the past summer: to recruit hot guys for me like how he did with his father, Mr. Owens and, more recently, a couple of students at our dorm. I was happy to see that he had already snared two studs in the far corner of the room. Unsurprisingly, there were lot of athletic young men trying out for the team, and the two hunks D was reeling in, Bruce and Toby, were by far the hottest of them. Even from across the room, subtle as it was, I could tell they were both listening closely to what D was saying. If you didn’t know what to look for, you’d never know what was going on. Both of them had a light, relaxed look about them. They were standing motionless, focusing on D’s every word. Every one of their muscles was focused on him. Their cocks just hard enough to keep them aroused and without giving anything away to the rest of the group. Perfect. And as for D, well, he was so far gone and intent accomplishing his mission that there was no need to interrupt his pleasure at carrying out my commands at this point. Let him do his work. I’d reward him later.
Coach Amato came back about fifteen minutes later and told us the list was up on the bulletin board, and everyone went scrambling for the hallway. I didn’t have to scramble. Neither did D. We had to keep up appearances though, so we made our way out to the hall with everyone else. I positioned myself so that I would be last out of the room. As I passed Coach Amato at the door, I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly. He gasped as I did so, going deep into that trance he had learned to love.
“Good job, Coach. You’ve done so very well.”
“Thankyou,” he muttered.
“Now, stay in this state for a few minutes before returning to normal and with no memory of going under. Is that understood, Coach?”
“Yesssss,” he whispered.
He wandered out into the hall and leaned against the bulletin board. He stared blankly out onto his new team. The team that he was going to train. The team he was going to shape. The team he was going to help me brainwash.