Mine Now (hypno)
(shorter than what I normally write, I know. Apologies for the long hiatus. Easing back into it)
When Eric came to, he found himself staring straight into a mirror. There was a brief flicker of confusion on the twenty four year-old's face as he realized that he did not recognize his surroundings- he was sitting upright on a bar stool of sorts, set up in the middle of a white-tiled bathroom he did not recognize. And he was leaning back against-
He straightened himself instantly, the colour returning to his light blue eyes. "Wh..where am I?" he asked aloud, unsure if the tall, broad chested man he had been leaning against would reply. The stranger had an unreadable expression- a stern no-nonsense face with a wide jaw framed by a soft layer of black hair lined with gray.
He felt a warm reassuring hand squeeze his shoulder as the stranger spoke: "Shhh… calm down, son… it's just a haircut."
Something about his deep baritone voice, the strength in that hand seemed to make Eric's worries feel so distant. He let out a slow, relieved sigh as he let himself lean back into the man. That's right. It was just a haircut, he realized, feeling silly not to have noticed that the left half of his head had been shaved, and the stranger… the barber… whoever he was, was holding the electric razor. He felt thick fingers cup his chin, a strong arm wrap around his waist as he was held almost tenderly by the other man, his neck complying to the gentle pressure so he would tilt the right side of his head up, giving the man access to the remaining length of blonde hair he still had.
"You'll look so much better once this is done," he heard the older man say softly, his words making Eric blush slightly. Strange considering he'd been one of those people who spent hundreds on their hair each month up until tonight.
This thought continued to bother him, warring with the strange sense of light-headedness he was feeling in the stranger's presence. He was only beginning to realize, from the metal ring he could feel pressing into the small of his back accompanied by the feel of smooth leather framing sweat-slicked skin, that the stranger was wearing a leather harness of some sort. Did people who cut your hair usually dress that way?
It did remind him a little bit of the horrible day he'd had. Losing his job and being dumped by his girlfriend- on his birthday. And the first bar he'd stopped at had been filled by men dressed like the stranger who was graciously relieving him of his hair. Everything seemed to blur from that point- he'd realized that he'd accidentally walked into a gay bar, and was going to leave when…
His eyebrows furrowed- had he even made it to the exit?
"Mmm… you're going to look like a good boy should," he could feel the vibrations in that chest, the words trickling into his head like warm honey.
"Yes…" he found his lips agreeing placidly. A good boy? He couldn't remember the last time anyone had ever called him that. Still it seemed to stir something primal in him, something that reminded him of how good it felt to be looked after, and how good it felt to be pleasing those looking after him. The usually cocky Eric had never felt so humbled, so grateful in his life, even though a small part of him was still questioning those feelings.
He felt the last of his hair go, accompanied by the click of the razor as the stranger turned it off. Staring into the full-size mirror, Eric realized for the first time how much better he looked with his head shaved, matching the shaved look of the leather-clad muscle god behind him.
"Look at you…" he heard the older man whisper, gently stroking his chin as he contemplated the stranger staring back at him, completely shaved, completely at peace. "You look like you should be mine."
"Yours…" he agreed breathlessly, and for the first time as his eyes trailed down the mirror, he noticed that he was completely naked, his pale skin contrasting the older man's slightly tanned look. He also realized how small he looked, his lean swimmer's build packing nowhere near as much power as the single arm wrapped around his waist.
His eyes widened as he noticed that his cock was rock hard, throbbing silently between his legs and-
He froze as he noticed the metal ring sitting snug around the base of his cock, strange letters he did not recognize engraved into the band, seeming to glow with a pulsing blue light, ebbing and intensifying with each throb of his cock.
"Don't you worry about that…" he heard the older man say- he must've noticed where his eyes had gone. "That just means you're nearly ready."
Eric briefly got glimpses of being shoved into a bathroom stall, his head already spinning from the two beers the stranger had bought him, the scent of male sweat and piss everywhere around him. He remembered his pants being yanked down, and the cold metal slipped over his cock, he remembered…
A glint of urgency returned to Eric's eyes, "N..no…" he moaned out, reaching down to remove it.
He felt the hold around him tighten in response, his hand easily swatted aside as a firmer one took its place, thick fingers wrapping around his painfully sensitive cock. Of course, the stranger didn't seem to show any intention of moving that ring anywhere.
"Shhhh… you're almost there, my sweet little slave… almost mine… almost daddy's…"
He let out a soft gasp as that hand began pumping. His whole world suddenly focusing on how good the stranger's hand felt there, how helpless he felt in his presence. He was still moaning like a bitch in heat when he felt the bar stool swivel around, the stranger's hand quickly finding his hard cock again and resuming his stroking, drawing
Eric closer and closer to the point of no return. He could almost feel the world growing hazier around him by the second, the older man's chuckling the only noise filling his empty head as his body seemed to grow more and more limp, his head hunched forward and buried in the man's chest hair.
He felt rough fingers cup his chin again and straighten him back up after what felt like forever, his cock aching and leaking so much that he could feel the wetness on the stranger's fingers. He was about to whimper a protest for his abandoned cock when he saw it-
Drawing closer to his face, held by the stranger's other hand was a white jockstrap, stained in various places. He vaguely remembered it from when he'd been kissing the stranger's cock through it, his lips trailing the obscene bulge it. He remembered his face being pressed into it, his lungs filled with pure, undiluted male musk. It was the one Daddy always wore underneath his leather. The one he never washed. The one that made all his boys crazy for him. He remembered now.
The fight was over the moment it was pressed to his nose, his vision whiting out, his entire body shuddering as he felt a pressure like none he'd ever felt before building at the base of his wildly throbbing cock, the blue runes etched in the cock ring now shining brighter and pulsing faster than before.
The boy let out a muffled moan, his cock spewing load after load of hot boyseed into a waiting glass held up by the stranger's hand. It was half-full by the time Eric was done, breathing heavily as he slumped forward again against the stranger's chest.
"Good boy… good boy…" he felt a comforting hand stroke his back, and he couldn't help but feel proud.
He kept himself upright as the man stepped back, holding up the glass in his hand.
"You remember what this is, don't you?"
He nodded. The words, "My… will…" escaping his soft lips.
"Mine now." His daddy corrected him, before taking the glass to his own lips and drinking it all up. Eric's eyes remained transfixed on the older man's throat as he gulped it down, feeling a strange sense of comfort watching the act he would have once considered lewd. It was finally over. There was no going back.
He smiled placidly as the man placed the glass by the sink, picking up something else before bringing it close. Eric felt it around his neck before he realized that it was a leather collar.
He was turned around once again so he could see his own reflection. Naked save for the cock ring and the collar, his eyes so vacant and peaceful, his head shaved, he was a far cry from the mess he had been earlier today, tearful and upset about woman whose name he couldn't remember anymore, and… where did the suit he was wearing go? Didn't matter. Daddy deserved to see what belonged to him at all times, after all- it wasn't like he'd be needing clothes ever again.
"Thank you, daddy," he whispered softly, finally finding the strength to get on his feet and cross the distance it took to land him in the older man's arms, welcomed with a passionate kiss.