Tan Tricks
by z119z
� 2013
To: Buzz O’Malley
Editor-in-Chief
The Komos Hive Report
12 December 2012
Dear Buzz—
Here’s an update on my progress with the article on the use of hypnosis as a training tool in sports that I pitched to you last month—
For the past three weeks, I’ve been conducting interviews. They’ve been going well. I have lots of good stuff to use, including some great anecdotes from both professionals and amateurs who attribute improvements in their games to hypnosis. In several cases they have the stats to back the claims up. A couple of cases are impressive—a golfer who has shaved seven strokes from his average score in the six months since he began hypnosis; a pitcher who lowered his ERA by 0.4 points.
Two nights ago I spoke with Mike Delanghey—or “The Golden Bod,” as he prefers to be known. In case you don’t know who he is, he’s a bodybuilder here in LA who’s done well in several important regional and national contests and is considered a strong contender for Mr. Universe in two or three years. I recorded the session, and I’ve pasted in a transcript of it below. I have more to say about it, but I’ll wait and let you read the transcript first and form your own opinions. Mike is a nonstop talker. Once he got started, I interrupted him only to ask him to spell some terms that he was using. I suspected from his comments that he misunderstood the terms, and I wanted to check. In the transcript I reproduce his spellings because they show how he interprets what’s happening to him. I edited out my interruptions. The first time each of Mike’s spellings occurs I put them in all caps. Mike also used the f-word several times in almost every sentence, and I removed most of those, as well as the most of the ums and ahs and like-ya-know’s—those were ubiquitous as well. Otherwise, it’s all him. As you will see, he has his own approach to grammar and usage. There was some background “getting the interviewee to introduce himself” chit-chat at the beginning, and I’ve omitted that below. Other sources had told me that he uses hypnosis. When I asked him about it, this is how he responded.
Interview (partial, edited transcript) with Mike Delanghey, Santa Monica, CA, 10 December 2012
(Mike speaking) . . . Leo Buffano—he’s a guy at the gym where I work out—Leo’s the one who told me about Robert. Like, I’m getting ready for a competition, and so’s I asks Leo to watch my posing routine and see if there’s anythings I can do to improve it. I’m, like ya know, not expecting Leo to help—[laughs] no way Leo knows more than me—but he’s in the competition too, and I want to psych him out by showing him that he’s got no hope against me. Instead, he tells me about this guy Robert. Leo goes on and on about him. It’s like an ad on TV with a testification [sic] from a satisfied customer. According to Leo, this guy Robert is a genius. [speaks in a high, affected voice when reporting Leo’s remarks] “He helped”—this is Leo talking now, not me—“He helped me with my posing routine by improving my focus and concentration.” Leo says he’s like one of those what-d’ya-call-ums? You know. One of those guys who arranges dances. Fuck, what are they called? Oh, you know. [snaps fingers several times in an effort to remember] A choleographer. That’s it. A choleographer. [mimics Leo voice again] “Only Robert—it’s like he choleographs your mind. He looks at your body and tells you how to show it off to best advantage. He finds ways to make you look even bigger and more ripped and vascular.”
So’s I figures, what the hell, ya know. It can’t do no harm to talk to this guy. It’s gonna surprise you, but even somebody as developed as me can use some help now and then. Now don’t get me wrong. My muscles ain’t the problem. [flexes arms and displays them in the Front Double Biceps pose to demonstrate their size] Look at that. Aren’t they something? Look at those peaks. Let me get rid of this so’s you can see them better. [jerks off T-shirt and then flexes again] Have you ever seen bigger guns? And I’m not even pumped. [I make appreciative noises.] You got that right—my body’s great. So’s like you can see, my body ain’t a problem. It’s putting it out there so that the judges and the audience can see I’m better than the rest of the guys—that’s where I might maybe need a few pointers here or there sometimes. And I gotta admit that Leo has improved his routine, and according to him he owes it all to this Robert. So’s I decides to give the guy a call and see what he has to say. A call will only take a few minutes of my time. Maybe even meet with him if he sounds like a straight-up guy.
Emphasis on straight. I don’t wanna ask Leo, but I’m not gonna meet this Robert if he’s gay or something. I’m pretty sure Leo’s gay—so’s I don’t wanna ask him straight out if this guy’s gay, you know. Leo’s okay and he spots me sometimes so’s I don’t want to like hurt his feelings by exploding he’s a faggot to the other guys standing around admiring my body, but me—you know how they say let sleeping dogs lie. Well, me, I don’t see no reason to make sleeping dogs tell the truth. Capish? Somethings are better left not said, if you know what I mean. If that’s Leo’s thing, okay by me. I don’t mind gay guys. Hey, they do their thing. I do mine. But I don’t want to have to deal with one up close and personal. You know what I mean? Like if I’m gonna be working with this guy Robert one on one, he’ll probably have to touch me to show me how to move. And I don’t want him touching me if he’s gay. You know?
A gay guy—he can admire me from a distance. Maybe look at my pictures. Hell, he can even jerk off to them. I don’t care. But I don’t want to know about it. I get messages from guys like that all the time—I just delete them without reading them. Man, you should see some of the stuff these guys write and what they want me to do to them. If you wants, I can show you some of them later. They even send pictures. Good-looking guys too, some of them. I just don’t understand them. Guys like that could have any chick they want, and they’re chasing after me. Now I’m better looking than most chicks, but still it ain’t natural. Fuck, I could have sex with five-six gay guys every day if I wanted—fuck them up the butt and everything. They’re begging for it. But that’s not my thing, you know. I understand where they’re coming from—my body’s great and they admire it—but that’s close enough for me. Looking’s okay, but no touching.
And Leo talks like this Robert is a dancer, and you know how those guys are. Jeez, you ever see one of those guys talking on the TV? I don’t mind gay guys like Leo—you’d never know he was gay to look at him—but one of those fairy queens? You won’t catch me anywhere near one of them.
So, where was I? I get off the subject sometimes, but I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me—thinking I’m meeting up with some gay dancer. This was strictly business. Anyway, so’s Leo gives me this Robert’s number, and I calls it. That’s when I get the first surprise.
[Mimics a woman’s voice] “Dr. Carlton’s office.”
At first I thought, “Fuck, Bod, you fucking punched in the fucking wrong number again.” The last thing I expected was for some woman to answer the phone.
So’s I goes, “Uh, I was looking for Robert. I was given this number. 555-2469?”
“Yes, you’ve reached that number. This is the office of Dr. Robert Carlton, Is there something I can help you with, Sir?”
You think Leo would have mentioned the guy’s a doctor, wouldn’t you? Instead he tells me this Robert is a dancer. For all I know Leo met this Robert at some gay bar and danced with him.
I figure I better explain to the lady on the phone. I don’t want her to think I’m some sort of nut. [? On the recording the last sentence sounds like “Ah doan wanner tuh tink ahm sum sordid nut.” I suspect The Bod’s vocabulary doesn’t run to “sordid.”] So’s I says, “Uh, maybe I got the wrong number. Leo Buffano—he’s the guy who gave me the number—he said that this Robert could help me focus so’s I can improve my posing routine. I’m a bodybuilder. Leo didn’t say nothing about no doctor.”
“Dr. Carlton works with many bodybuilders.”
“He’s like a medical doctor?”
“Yes. He’s a sports doctor, and a clinical psychologist as well. He specializes in helping professional athletes. Would you like to make an appointment, Sir?”
Right away, I feel relieved. This guy’s a pro. He’s a doctor, for fucksake. Already I’m planning on what I’m going to say to Leo about that. Jeez, he had me going for a while. A dancer! Anyway, I’m getting off the subject again. So’s I says yes and makes an appointment to see this Doctor Carlton.
I get to the address the receptionist gave me, and that’s the second surprise. It’s this sleek glass and brick building. Obviously this doctor’s good if he can afford an office in a building like this. The lobby has one of those boards with the plastic letters that lists all the people, and Doctor Carlton is on the tenth floor. That’s good for me. I avoid elevators when I can. So’s I runs up the stairs. Ten floors, and I get there and I’m not even breathing hard. Not even much of a burn in my calves. I find Doctor Carlton’s office. That’s the fourth surprise. I open the door, and there’s the reception area. Really nice furniture. Classy. Like out of magazine. None of that beat-up trash you usually find in doctor’s offices. There’s this older woman sitting at a desk. She looks up and smiles and says, “Mr. Delanghey?”
When I nod, she says, “Doctor Carlton is seeing a client right now. He will be with you in a few minutes. Please have a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee while you’re waiting?”
I says no. I don’t want to tell her that I don’t drink coffee. Caffeine and all that shit is bad for the body. Jeez, if she knew what that stuff does to you, she wouldn’t be pushing it. But she’s this nice-looking lady—gray hair and all—and so’s I says nothing. She’s somebody’s grandma, for sure. She probably bakes cookies for her grandkids and poisons them with all that sugar and fat. So I just smile and sit down. I mean I could tell her about proper nutrition, but, hey, she works in a doctor’s office. She should know all that stuff. Some people just don’t want to do what’s good for them. The things you see people stuffing into their mouth, it makes you sick.
Anyway, there’s a table there with magazines—that’s another surprise. None of those magazines that are six months old or those women’s magazines with advice on how to get a man. Did you ever open one of those? Do yourself a favor sometime and look at one. The junk that’s in them—you wouldn’t believe. Women, I just don’t understand them sometimes. Anyway, I’m getting off the subject again. These are all serious bodybuilding magazines. I’ve even been in some of them. These are hard-core.
The other surprise is a statue that sitting on a table in a corner. It’s got spotlights aimed at it so’s youse can’t miss it. It’s made of, you know, like bronze or something. Sort of a golden glow to it. It’s like an idol. But not one of those smiley Oriental guys with rolls of fat or women with big boobs. This is a bodybuilding idol. Broad shoulders, huge arms and legs, great pecs, and washboard abs. He’s sitting there in one of those yogurt positions—you know with the feet folded up on the thighs. And he’s got this really quiet look on his face. All calm and—whaddya call it—peaceful, That’s the word. Peaceful.
So I’m looking at this statue, and I’m wondering where I can get one. That’s the type of art I like. None of those queer paintings that you can’t tell what it’s supposed to be. Then the door behind the receptionist lady opens and out walks this guy. He’ a bodybuilder for sure. I can tell that at a glance. His arms are pushed away from his body by his lats and he’s got the walk. Good-looking guy, blond hair, nice face. I’m guessing maybe six-two, 250 pounds, 50-inch chest, 22-inch biceps, good glutes but he’s got these huge quads, so’s he looks unbalanced. Somes guys get like that. He needs to work on catching the rest of his body up to his quads. Anyways, I see him sort of checking me out, giving me the old once over out of the corner of his eyes. So’s I leans forwards and picks up one of the magazines from the table, and just sort of casual like I push the arms of my T-shirt up and let him watch my biceps bulge. I act like he’s got nothing that interests me. [mimes leaning forward, flexing his biceps, and looking around like he’s not seeing anyone] Which is only the truth. I couldn’t care less what he thinks—about anything. I let him see that no ways I’m not paying him no attention. He looks at me for a few seconds, and then the lady asks if wants to schedule his next appointment. Which he does. When he walks out, I sees him giving me another look. I can tell he likes what he sees, and so’s I kinda smirks at Pretty Boy and gives him a little wink, like this [demonstrates], just to let him know that I’m on to him and he’s not pulling the wood over my eyes. Maybe I should introduce him to Leo. [laughs for several seconds and shakes his head] Gay guys—what is it with them? Those guys never get enough of looking at me.
Anyways, the lady’s phone buzzes. She picks it up, listens for a moment, and says, “I’ll send him right in, Doctor.” Then she hangs up and smiles at me. “You can go in now, Mr. Delanghey. Doctor’s consulting room is the first door on the left.”
I don’t know what I expected Doctor Carlton to look like. You’d think a doctor who specialites in helping athletes would at least look athletic. Doctor Carlton is about five-two, maybe five-three tops. I’m six-eight. So the top of his head is about even with the bottom of my pecs. I have to bend over to shake hands with him. He’s thin. I’ll give him that. Not an ounce of fat on him. And he moves easy. So’s I’m guessing he’s smoothly muscled. But jeez he’s small. Fuck, my cock’s bigger than his forearm. I could sit him on one of my palms and lift him a hundred times without breaking a sweat. He motions me to sit down and then he starts asking me questions about my background and my health. I can answer those with half a mind. So’s I looks around the office. In each corner of the room, there is another one of the statues of the bodybuilding idol. Each of them is holding a different pose.
Doctor Carlton notices me looking at them. “Do you like my statues?” [When repeating Carlton’s remarks, Mike adopts a very deep voice, much deeper than his own. Oddly enough, he also sounds much more educated. He makes no grammatical errors and his pronunciation improves.]
“They’re sorta different than usual, aren’t they? I like them.”
“I practice TAN TRICKS meditation,” he says. “The statues are meditation aids.”
“What’s Tan Tricks?” I goes. I mean what trick is there to tanning? You put on sunscreen and you sit out in the sun. Turns out it don’t have nothing to do with tanning.
“It’s a form of meditation that emphasizes the use of the physical body as well as the mind to develop the spirit. We engage in physical exercises as a means of focusing the mind and transcending the body. I use it in my practice. If I accept you as a client, I will teach it to you.”
I sort of shrug. I’m not really interested in meditation and all that religious stuff. I mean the body is my temple and all that. I don’t need more than that. So’s I goes, “I’m just here to see if maybe you can improve my posing routine, help me focus better.” I figures I should make sure he’s clear about what’s what, even if he is a doctor. No fooling around.
“Learning how to focus correctly is the first step.”
The Doctor has this soft deep voice. It’s kind of relaxing to listen to. He’s not pressuring me or anything like that. Fuck, he couldn’t do that if he wanted to—little guy like that. But it’s kind of a soothing voice, you know what I mean? And like his office is dark. Not pitch black, but the lights are on low. Most of the light in the room comes from the spotlights on the statues, and they sort of draw your eyes to them. They all have that look of peace and calm. Their bodies are pumped, but they don’t look like they’re straining to hold the pose. It’s like that’s the natural form their bodies take. And the Doctor is talking about Tan Tricks and its methods. And it starts to sound interesting. So when he asks me if I would like to take a relaxation test, I agree.
He leads me to the “Meditation Room”—that’s what he calls it. In the center of the room is one of those chairs like dentists have where the back folds down so the dentist can check your teeth while you’re laying down. Except those chairs aren’t built for people as big as me. My shoulders are so wide that the dentist has to sit so far away that he can’t barely reach my mouth with all those little mirrors and picks and he has to lean on my chest just so’s he can look into my teeth. But the chair in the Meditation Room is built for people my size. I guess it would have to be on account of most of the guys that Doctor Carlton sees are built. Anyway, I lays down on the chair and the Doctor lowers the back so’s I’m almost flat. It’s a very comfortable chair. Doctor Carlton adjusts the height a bit and then sits down behind me. I can’t see him. The lights in the room are low. The room must be soundproofed because you can’t hear anything from outside. It’s always a comfortable temperature too. I suppose things like that help with meditation. You don’t want no detractions.
Anyway, when Doctor Carlton’s sure I’m comfortable, he dims the lights even more and turns on a spotlight. On the wall opposite me is another statue of the bodybuilding idol. But this one is dancing. His right leg’s lifted off the ground, and he’s balancing on his left leg. His arms are raised and his right hand faces outwards so that the palm is towards me. The fingers of the left hand point toward his body, like he wants to make sure that you notice how great it is. Like the other statues, he has this look of total peace. You feel that he is so perfectly balanced that he could hold that position forever.
Doctor Carlton tells me to focus on the statue and just relax. He directs my mind to different parts of the statue’s body and has me focus on them and then on the same part of my body. “Imagine what it would feel like to hold your right thigh like that,” he goes. It’s hard at first. I keep thinking of other things, but then Robert helps me get the hang of it. It’s a matter of reaching down from your mind and concentrating on your leg or your hand and letting them assume that position. By the end, I feel as if I have merged with the statue. In one part of my mind, I know that I’m laying on the couch. But in another part, I’ve become the statue and am balancing myself on my left leg. My foot is arched, my leg is bent slightly forward at the knee. My entire left leg is a column of strength holding the rest of my body up. I feel great, better than I have in a long time.
“There,” Doctor Carlton says. “I think that’s enough for today.” He stands up and turns up the lights in the room. “You’ve made a lot of progress. I think you will learn Tan Tricks very rapidly.”
I’m really happy that the Doctor is satisfied with me, but I’m also disappointed that we have to stop. It’s like one part of me is buzzed because the Doctor is pleased with me, but another part feels all sad and down on account of I got to leave. I want to go on, but the doctor says he has another appointment at 3:00. I almost tell him that gives us plenty of time to do more, but then I glance at my watch and discover it’s 2:45. I’ve been at the doctor’s office for almost four hours. I don’t know where the time went.
Then he tells me to see Mrs. Addison to set up a schedule of appointments. He wants to see me twice a week at first. “Later,” he says, “once you master the techniques, we will cut back on the visits.”
I see that he isn’t going to budge and that I have to leave. So’s I puts my clothes back on and go. At least he wants to see me again. He’s accepted me as his pupil, which is good. I can tell just from that first session that this is something I want to do. I’m feeling great. I’m like renewovized. Like I’m a high-performance sports car and just had a tune-up and now my engine’s purring along. So I talk with Mrs. Addison, and we arrange for the Doctor to see me twice a week, every Tuesday and Friday at 11:00. That will give me time to complete my morning workout and then have a shower fore I sees Robert.
I’ve been seeing Robert for five months now. He calls me his ECHO LIGHT on account of there’s a lot of light in the exercises, and I’m practicing echoing the statues. The first two months Robert taught me relaxation and focusing techniques. It was hard. We kept practicing the dancing bodybuilder display. I finally got it right—now I can put my entire body into the dancer’s pose within a few minutes of beginning and then hold it for hours without moving. Once I’d mastered that, we moved on to other poses. There’s a different statue for each of them, and we begin by having me picture each body part looking like the statue. Then Robert helps me to combine various body parts. We work on including more and more of my body in the pose, until I can duplicate the entire statue. Robert says I’m a good pupil, but it still takes me a lot of time to learn each of the poses. But Robert is very patient and helpful. “I have every confidence in you,” he says.
At the beginning of the third month, we move on to what Robert calls the mid-level Tan Tricks meditations. My favorite exercise is the Iron Man meditation. In these mid-level exercises, Robert has me wear something special for each one. I forgot to say, the earlier lessons I ain’t wearing nothing so’s Robert can check me out and make sure I’m doing the right thing. Anyways, in the mid-level exercises, Robert has me wear a PAVLOFT object. There’s a different one for each exercise. Robert says I will enter the meditation pose more quickly if I associate each pose with a different object.
The Pavloft object for the Iron Man meditation is a posing strap. It’s just a white triangle with strings that go around my hips and then down between my glutes to hold it in place. Sort of like a jockstrap but thinner. It don’t weigh hardly nothing at all. When I put it on, youse can see right through it. I might as well be nude. Nothing is hidden. And there’s not much room in it. I have to stuff my cock and balls into the pouch to make them fit. I have to push my cock down between my balls. The head of my cock ends up sort of trapped below my balls in the narrow point of fabric that goes down between my legs. The cloth’s soft and smooth, but the pouch binds around the edges. It’s really a tight fit, and it’s hard to remain relaxed, if you know what I mean. I said something to Robert about needing a larger pouch, and he said, no, it’s fine. It’s supposed to be tight so that I’m sexually stimulated. The whole point of the mid-level meditation techniques is to use sexual stimulation to reach a higher level of focus and control and then use that heightened awareness to move to a higher spiritual level. Sexual stimulation, he says, is a man’s strongest urge, and when I learn to control those urges, I’ll be ready for the next stage of meditation. The whole point of these mid-level exercises is to make me think about sex and learn to channel those thoughts to higher uses.
This makes sense to me. A real man should be in control of your sexual urges and not let them control you. I hadn’t thought about this before, but once Robert said it, it made a lot of sense. It’s like I already knew this. Like somebody’s said this to me a thousand times already, but I never paid no attention before and it’s just now sinking in. But, sure, you’ve got to control your sexual urges. You have to use them and not let them use you. It just made a lot of sense—what Robert was saying. It’s what we were working towards for several weeks, and now I am ready.
The statue for the Iron Man meditation is different than the others we’ve used so far. This time the bodybuilder is displayed in the Most Muscular pose. You know what that is? [I nodded yes.] Okay. So’s right away, I feels confident. I can do this. The only hard part is going to be the face. Most guys, they get into the Most Muscular pose, and all the muscles in their face are scrunched up and their mouth is open in this kind of square smile with their teeth tight together and their jaw muscles all bunched up and sticking out. Like this. [demonstrates the look on face] You can’t help doing that. You have to do that in order to pull the muscles in the neck and the shoulders tight. But this statue, he’s got the same calm look like all the other statues. I mention this to Robert, and he says, “Good, very good, Mike. You’ve noticed the goal of the exercise right away. You have to remain calm and in control even though every muscle in your body is flexed.”
So we begin. Robert has me face the statue and then tells me to beginning repeating my MANTER—that’s a special saying for men to use for Tan Tricks meditation. Mine is “Become the statue,” I start saying that over and over.
“Just keep repeating that,” Robert says. “Don’t consciously pose your body. Just let it become the statue. Become the statue.”
I empty my mind and focus on the statue. I imagine my arms flexed and crossed over my chest so that my pecs bulge. Then it just happens sort of natural like. My biceps pump. My pecs and shoulders flex. My abs tighten. The muscles in my thighs leap out, each one sharply defined. I become the statue. But it’s different this time. Usually when you do the Most Muscular pose, you hold the muscles so tight that your whole body kind of shakes with the effort. But now, it’s like my body just becomes the pose. I become the statue. And my face is calm and relaxed.
And Robert is saying, “Your body is a statue. It is made of iron. Hard iron. You are an iron man.” He says that over and over. And I feel my body becoming iron. It’s no longer an effort to hold the pose. I am hard iron. Nothing could move me.
“You feel complete calm. You are iron. You are calm.”
And it’s just like Robert says. I am iron. I am calm.
My cock has gotten hard too. It’s made of iron too. It’s pointing straight out, stretching the posing strap. I’m oozing juice, and the cloth over the head of the cock is so wet, it feels like it’s getting cold like.
Robert is saying, “Ignore your cock. Become an iron statue. The more you become an iron statue, the more aroused you become. The more aroused you become, the more you become an iron statue. Control your arousal. Control your mind.”
My body is becoming harder and harder. I’ve never been more pumped in my life. Even vein in my body is standing out. And my cock is bigger than it’s ever been.
Roberts tells me over and over, “Focus on controlling your sexual urges. Become the statue. Use your sexual arousal to make yourself become the statue. The more aroused you become, the more immovable your body. The more aroused you become, the harder your body. The more aroused you become, the more you become the iron man.”
Robert moves around so that he’s standing in front of me. He reaches down and wraps his right hand around my cock. My cock is so big now that he can barely get his little hand around it. With his thumb, he begins rubbing the slit. The posing pouch is so wet with my juices, his thumb just glides over the head. Vibrations run up and down my cock. “Become the statue.” It’s like I’m burning now. I feel this heat begin at the tip of my cock. It’s like there’s a flame. Robert tells me to focus on that feeling and then let the flame slowly flow down through my cock and into my body. He guides the flame to every part of my body. It spreads everywhere. I’m burning up. I am this frozen statue on the outside, but inside I’m all on fire now.
My body gets harder and harder, and the fire invades my mind. I am the statue now. An iron statue fixed forever into the Most Muscular pose. I am the statue.
Robert keeps rubbing the head of my cock, and my mind just disappears. I am the statue.
Robert brings me back from the meditation at the end of the session. He says I was a statue for about three hours. I don’t recall any of it, but I feel great. The posing pouch is soaking wet. It’s so sticky that Robert’s got to cut one of the straps to get pouch off. It’s ruined and he just throws it away. We have to use a new pouch each time. I’m always like surprised I don’t have no orgasm. Before I started the meditation, some man strokes my cock, I cum right away immediately. But I feel great. I don’t need to cum. Being the statue is better than having an orgasm. Or maybe it’s that I’ve had the orgasm by becoming the statue. I don’t know anymores. I just know I reached a higher state of spirit when Robert rubbed my cock. I really like the Iron Man meditation. I hope Robert will help me practice it again even though I’ve mastered it.
Today we began the next higher level of meditation exercises. Robert calls them the “MY TUNAS.” I don’t understand what tunas have to do with meditation, but I guess I’ll find out. These exercises will involve the both of us. The echo light has to do them with the teacher. Robert says that when I’ve mastered these exercises, I’ll be able to project my OREO and control not only myself but others.
The Pavloft object for this exercise is a leather collar. It’s like a dog collar you put around the neck of a big dog—a German shepherd or something like that. It’s made of thick black leather with a big shiny steel ring attached in the middle. I have to bend over so that Robert can buckle it around my neck. He pulls on the strap until it begins to squeeze my throat and fastens the buckle so that the collar is really tight. Now I don’t like this. I don’t like tight things around my neck. When I was a kid, they used to make me gag. I never wear neckties—even if I could find one that fits around my neck. I don’t even like it when a barber puts that paper band around my neck afore he begins shaving my head. So this makes me kind of nervous. Robert wiggles the collar to move it around a bit, and it tugs at the skin, and the corners of the buckle dig into the back of my neck. It’s hard to ignore something like that. When he’s finished, the ring hangs at the top of the groove between my pecs. The collar is heavier than I expected. The ring and the buckle are cold at first until my body heat warms them up. It makes me feel kind of funny. I mean a dog collar’s not something a real man wears, is it?
Then Robert tells me to bend over again. I don’t know what I’m thinking he’ll do next, but I always do what he tells me now. So’s I bends forwards at the waist. Without saying anything, he attaches a padlock to the buckle at the back of my neck. The snap when the lock closes makes me jump. The collar was bad enough, but this lock business is something else. The padlock’s so heavy that if pulls the collar down in back, and in front the collar rises up and hits the bottom of my Adam’s apple. I’m beginning to wonder what I’ve gotten into. I reach up and try to pull the collar away from my throat on account of it’s bothering me.
Robert sees the collar is making me kind of nervous. He smiles at me to let me know that’s I’m okay and says in that calm voice of his, “It’s a symbol. The collar symbolizes our servitude to the senses. It is tight and heavy because we have to be aware of the Pavloft object. We have to overcome our servitude to the senses. Only then can we remove the collar. Only then will the padlock fall off.” Robert takes my hand and pulls it away from the collar. He adjusts the collar again so that the ring is centered over my chest. He pats the ring so that it lies flat against me.
The sound of his voice and the touch of his fingers calm me down. I know I’m safe with Robert. He would never harm me. I feel so grateful to him for helping me. I feel so much better than I used to before he started teaching me the Tan Tricks. “I’m sorry,” I says. “I sort of panicked there for a moment.”
“It’s the senses and the emotions fighting back,” he says. “They don’t give up easily. But those parts of your mind feel imperiled now that you are gaining control of them and not letting them control you. Your abilities are growing, and soon all the collars and chains your mind has been putting on you since you were a child will fall away, and you will be free. You will overcome the tyranny of the senses and the desires. You will conquer your urges. You are only a few steps away. Now I want you to sit down and close your eyes and clear your mind. When you are ready, we will begin the first My Tuna.”
So’s I does what Robert says. Like he’s taught me, I picture the Jewel of Meditation in my mind and focus on it. My Jewel is like a clear diamond. It revolves slowly and it’s filled with light. It gives off beams of light that reach every corner of my body and mind and relax them. I take slow, deep breaths, breathing in through my right nostril and breathing out through the left nostril. Each breath swells my chest. I make my backbone straight and center my energy on my navel.
When I am ready, I open my eyes. Robert has dimmed the lights in the room. In front of me is the statue for this exercise. For the first time, the statue has two men instead of just one. One man, the smaller one, is laying flat on his back, with his legs extended out before him and his hands clasped behind his head so’s his arms are bent at the elbow and his upper arms stretcher away from his shoulders. Like this. [demonstrates] The other man is a bodybuilder. His rests his butt on the prone man’s hips. His legs are bent at the knees, and he kneels with his calves and feet pressed against the floor. His thighs are so big that they hide most of the smaller man’s body.
I look down. Robert is lying on a mat on the floor. His body is arranged like that of the body of the smaller man in the statue. He looks relaxed and peaceful. “Come,” he says. “You are ready to begin the exercise. Become the statue.”
I look at the statue again. I will become the statue. I am the larger man. I stand over Robert, with one foot on either side of his body. He nods at me encouragingly. I slowly lower myself over him until I am kneeling above him like the statue.
“Lower,” he says. “Rest your body on mine.”
I don’t want to hurt Robert. I’m so much bigger than him I’m afraid I might crush him if I put my whole weight on him. So’s I shifts my weight to my thighs and just barely touch my body against his.
“Good,” he says. “Now we will begin to flex each of your muscles. Begin by slowly bouncing your pec muscles. First your right pec and then your left.”
This I can do in my sleep. I do as Robert says and flex my right pec and then my left, making each pec swell and rise upward. I do this several times.
“Excellent,” he says. “Now focus on each nipple in turn and contract the little muscles that control it so that it becomes hard and stands out, just as if it were a little cock. If it helps, think of what happens when your nipples are exposed to cold.”
This is a bit harder, but I go deep in my mind. As Robert has taught me, I focus on the task like I’d already done it. I think about standing outside during the winter, with my shirt off. Fuck, it’s magic. I feel this great rush in my right pec as the muscles around the nipple contract and push it out. My nipple springs outward like it’s a little prong, as thick as an eraser. Like Robert said, it’s like a little cock.
“Again,” he says.
This time I’m able to do it right away. And my nipples are longer and thicker than before, maybe double the size.
“Now, lean forward,” he says. “Place your hands on the floor beside my armpits. I’m going to touch your nipples as you push them out. They are going to be ultra-sensitive. Focus on the sensation. Experience it to the fullest.”
Robert holds each nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His hands distract me at first, but I focus my thoughts and push out my nipples. Instantly I feel this great buzz throughout my whole body. It’s like an electric shock. It startles me so much that I relax and my nipples deflate. Robert has me practice this over and over. Now that I know what to expect, I can keep my nipples up longer each time. Once I’ve mastered this, Robert starts rubbing the nipples between his fingers and even pinching them a bit. Jeez, this nearly sends me over the edge. My cock jumps up and gets hard. My cum starts leaping out of my balls, and I have to bear down to keep it inside me.
“Focus,” he says, kinda like he knows just what happened inside me and what I’m thinking and he’s warning me. “Control your reactions. Experience the pleasure, but don’t let it control you. Control it.”
I’m getting so good at Tan Tricks that it don’t take me long to learn this. Then we go on to other parts of my body. Robert tells me to remain leaning forward. He tells me to focus on my biceps and to curl the muscle up and down without lifting or lowering my forearm. I’m to make the peak of the bicep move up and down my arm. I should visualize the muscle contracting and relaxing. To help me focus on the right area, Robert puts his hands over my biceps. The first few times, my forearms lift up and my hands leave the floor. But I am soon in control.
“Good,” he says. “Now, make your veins pop out even more.”
I visualize the veins in my arms, the way that they snake across the surface, the way my arms turn bright red when I’ve pumped them up to the max. And it just happens. I push the veins out so that they are hard thick cords for Robert to feel. He goes, “Om.” That’s what he says when he’s focusing and concentrating. So I try to make the veins even larger. This time, he goes “Oom” and, then after a pause, “More.”
“Om Oom OMmm , , , good, that’s really good,” he says. He’s a little out of breath and the words catch in his throat, and I get kind of worried something’s wrong. But he’s smiling. So’s I figures he’s okay and that I’m doing things right.
Robert has me do the same thing for each of the other muscle groups, and I begin to grow more and more aware of my body. It’s like I’m super aware now. My control over myself is growing. My body is totally under my control, and I will use that control to conquer my emotions and my desires and my urges and my spirit. I will become the statue.
Fuck, I feel so great. I take stock of myself like Robert has taught me and take the time to enjoy and celebrate the sensations in each of my muscles. I work my way down my body, starting at the top of my head. I can feel each pulse of blood. I can feel the blood flowing to the muscles. I can feel the oxygen pumping into me.
The sensation is greatest in my groin, and I focus on that area. Then I realize that the glow that’s coming from that area isn’t coming from my cock and balls. After I finished flexing the muscles in my legs, I relaxed them. Now I’m sitting directly on Robert. His cock is between my ass cheeks and pressing against my balls. Robert’s got this wiry hair around his groin. I just had a Brazilian wax job over my entire body, and all my hair is gone. My ass crack is smooth as a baby’s and it’s very sensitive. Robert’s nads are pressed against my asshole, and his hair is . . . well, I don’t know how to tell you about it. It’s not scratchy. It’s kind of like each hair has found a nerve ending and is exciting that nerve and all those nerves are sending signals to my brain and I’m getting high on rubbing his nads against my asshole.
And then there’s Robert’s cock. He’s got this big cock. You wouldn’t think a little guy like that would have a big cock, but he does. Bigger than me even. The head is pushing against the back of my balls, and the shaft goes backward between my legs from my balls to my ass. I can feel the ridge at the base of the head. I can feel all the veins throbbing in it. All of a sudden like I’m very wet between my legs and that makes Robert’s cock feel even better. I’m getting aroused. I feel so hot. I rub my ass crack against Robert’s cock. Jeez, it feels great. I’m getting so’s I can’t think straight no more. There’s this buzz that’s coming from his cock and entering me through my ass and my balls and rising up through my body to my mind. Suddenly I have to have more. It’s driving me crazy. I’m filling up with this desire for more. But it’s more than a desire. I’m like drunk with this need. I have to have Robert’s cock inside me. Once the idea forms in my mind, I can’t resist it. It’s a cumpulsion now and my mind can’t think of anything else.
I don’t even think about what I’m doing. I just reach down between my legs and take Robert’s cock in my hand. I raise up a bit, and it immediately springs up. It’s hard. It feels good in my hand and I wrap my fingers around it. I can feel Robert’s blood flowing through his cock. Each beat makes me hotter. I rub the head of his cock against my asshole. It’s like it’s sending electrical shocks into me. I’m like oozing lube I’m so wet. The head just slips into me, opening me up, like that’s where it belongs. I’m seeing flashing lights in my head and there’s this roaring in my ears. I sit down again and force Robert’s cock into me. I keep pushing on it until I feel the hairs on his groin pressing against me.
My instincts take over. I raise up a bit and let Robert’s cock slide out of me a way and then I sit back down again. I try to do this slowly so’s I don’t hurt him, but I really need his cock shoved all the way up my ass, and it’s like a ticking timebomb growing larger and larger and it feels so good to move it in and out. I squeeze it tightly with my ass muscles. I focus on it, the way Robert has taught me how to focus on an object until I become the object. His cock grows larger and larger and it fills me. We’re joined together and Robert’s cock is filling me from the inside. It’s pumping me up and pushing my veins out.
My own cock is flopping up and down as I ride Robert and then pull out and shove down hard over and over again. I’m dripping juice, and each time my cock hits Robert’s body, it thwumps [? Mike is getting excited at this point and the recording is not clear], and it leaves a drop of pre-cum on his body. Soon all these sticky threads of cum are connecting Robert’s stomach and my cock, and we’re both shiny with sweat and breathing hard.
Robert is going “Om, Om, OOOM.” And I’m moaning and groaning. Robert begins to thrust his cock into me, and I match my rhythms to his. I’m not conscious anymore. I’m just a body. My mind has disappeared. I can’t think of anything but Robert’s cock and how great it feels inside me.
Then I explode.
I don’t know how long I was out. When I come to, I’m lying on my back on the floor. Robert is not there. I’m totally exhausted, and I feel all sticky and sweaty. I get up on my hands and knees and crawl across the floor to the mat and collapse on it. I couldn’t even make it all the way onto the mat. The lower half of my body is on the floor. The floor is hard and cold, and my cock is bent under me, but I’m too tired to do anything about it. I fall asleep.
Robert has to wake me up. He dressed in his lab coat with a white shirt and tie with trousers and black shoes. I’m still naked. His next appointment will be there soon and I have to leave. I find my clothes and pull them on. I feel like I’ve had the toughest workout of my life. Every muscle in my body is tired. It’s an effort just to move. I just want to go back to bed and rest for a while. But Robert’s not finished with me.
“You made some progress today,” he says, “but we are really going to have to work on this My Tuna. I want you to see Mrs. Addison on the way out and set up daily appointments. You were not in control of your senses today. Your desires and your urges were controlling you instead of you controlling them. That’s not good at all. You only had my penis inside yourself for twelve minutes before your emotions made you come. You should be able to join with me for several hours, and we’re going to practice this My Tuna over and over until you get it right. You’re just going to have to do better. We can’t move on until you master this exercise.”
Robert was hiding it, but I could tell he was disappointed in me. Sometimes I’m such a fucking asshole. And today I was the worst fucking asshole in the world. I feel real bad about this. Robert’s done so much to help me, and I really fucked things up this time. He should be angry at me, but instead he’s nice and encouraging. I decide right then and there that I’m going to learn this exercise and that soon I will learn to control my urges and be able to keep Robert’s cock inside me for hours. So’s on the way out I asks Mrs. Addison to set up a new schedule of daily sessions. I know I can get this My Tuna right. I’m really looking forward to working with Robert and mastering it.
End of Transcript
That’s something, isn’t it? Mike’s not the brightest bulb—it isn’t clear from the transcript, but he stumbles a lot trying to find the right word and he often mispronounces the multisyllable ones. I had to clean up his language a bit otherwise there would have been sic’s in every sentence. He’s also one of those people who acts out the parts when he’s telling a story. It’s weird but when he talks about the doctor and summarizes what the doctor does and says, it’s almost as if he’s becoming the doctor. The other odd thing that won’t be clear from the transcript is that as he was telling me about each of these “Tan Tricks” exercises, he was acting them out. It was like he was in a trance and was back in this “meditation room” doing the exercise. It got scary, especially when he started explaining the last exercise. He got aroused, and his erection was tenting the sweat pants he was wearing and his cock was flopping up and down as he re-enacted impaling himself on this doctor’s cock. He was bouncing up and down like he was fucking himself. It was something to see—this huge guy with this vacuous look of pleasure on his face remembering how it felt to be fucked. There was even a wet spot on the front of his pants. I guess it must have been a great fuck because he was sure enjoying the replay. But apparently he is not aware of what is happening and how he is being exploited by this doctor. Of course, if I use any of this in the article, I’ll change his name.
In case you haven’t figured it out, Tan Tricks is Tantric, Pavloft is Pavlov, Manter is mantra, Echo Light is acolyte, Oreo is aura. I had to look up My Tuna. I think this is Maithuna, which is a form of Tantric exercise involving two people fusing together. According to the Wikipedia article, most of the time this is a mental exercise and not a physical one. Clearly Doctor Robert prefers the physical fuse to the mental one.
Anyway, I think I’ve found the dark side of sports hypnosis. I intend to follow up on this. This will add another dimension to the article. It should get The Komos Hive a lot of attention, especially if the article leads to this doctor’s arrest. At the very least, he should lose his license. I’m going to try to identify other of his clients and talk to them. I’ll also see the doctor to get his side of the story. Any ideas on how I should proceed?
Your favorite free-lance reporter (certainly your best one),
Zed
(Please send any comments to [email protected].)