Foreign Exchange Student Hypno: A Hypno-Confessional

Growing up in the Gross house (yes, that really is my last name) was well, let’s just say it had its moments.

…Name’s Troy and this is my story: I’m 18 now, as of last week anyway and yeah I’m still living in the same house I grew up in, on the Folk road cul-de-sac, in the midst of Cincinnati suburban sprawl. I’m an only child and growing up I was always wishing I had a little brother or even an older one to hang out with. Both my parents worked and at one point anyway, decided I should have a big brother. They enlisted the help of the local big brother program and were told because I lived with both my parents I would be placed at the bottom of the list. I remember how much that irked me when I heard my dad explain it. Truth is, at that age I would have been happy just spending time with my dad, but he was always too busy. For that matter, so was mom.

We had a nice house too – five bedrooms, though I don’t know why we needed so many, there was never more than four of us living in the house I mean.

See, about seven years ago, after the whole Big Brother thing fell through, my folks got involved with the Student-exchange program, maybe, in some weird way, to give me the sibling they never had. I think that’s what it was.

When they first told me this dude from France was coming to stay with us for six months my first thought was, “great! Like I need a baby-sitter!” I was about eleven then don’t forget!

I was kinda bummed about the whole stranger living in my house thing… at first anyway, that is, until I met Jacques. Ooh la la as they say in France!

Jacques Beaulieu, his last name literally meaning, ‘beautiful place’ didn’t quite do him justice. Jacques was taller than my dad, and my dad was nearly six feet. He had this adorable smile that seemed to wink at you when he exposed his pearly whites. In fact, that was the first thing I remember about Jacques - his hypnotic smile. He had the most incredible mop of disheveled jet-black hair, and thick eyebrows that made him seem less French and more Armenian or something. He had the lightest blue eyes I had ever seen, they were, truth be told, sleep inducing. I remember the first time we actually sat down together, to talk, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off his. They were literally that captivating.

His body? Man, this guy was built well. Not muscled, but defined, toned and not a square inch of flab on him anywhere to be seen. And, yeah, when you live with someone over a six-month period, even someone with his own bedroom and bathroom, you do on occasion, how shall we say this…? Steal a glimpse?

In any event, back to Jacques, because really, it all started with him.

It was the first weekend in November or thereabouts. My mom had gone away on a business trip to Fort Lauderdale and dad had just called to tell me he’d be working late. He asked me to tell Jacques and to ask him to stay home (to watch me). I almost didn’t give Jacques the message! Hell, I didn’t need no babysitter! But I’m glad I didn’t.

Jacques came home seconds later and darted up the stairs as he gave me a customary hello. The impression I received was that he was in a rush to go somewhere. I don’t know why, but I followed him upstairs into his room. He was fumbling through one of his suitcases, looking for something, in the pockets, on the side.

-“Whatya looking for?” I remember asking him.

He turned to look at me, unaware that I had been standing there. He just looked at me and I felt this… I don’t know how to describe it. Like a piercing… in my brain?

-“I am looking for a special watch… my grandfather gave it to me. Oh, here it is!” He exclaimed in victory as he thrust the pocket watch toward me. “I’m going out and I need zis to bring me good luck!”

I was feeling kinda weird, almost let down that Jacques was going out and that of course, I could not join him. So I blurted it out, then and there:

-“Jacques, dad’s working late and he asked me to ask you if you could stay here, um, you know, with me, until he gets home!” I felt like such a wuss! What a baby!

By now, Jacques had set the pocket watch on his bed and sat down alongside it, again, looking at me with those intense blue eyes of his. I remember what he said to me next. It was so out of the blue, yet so in sync with what I was feeling, it was eerie, and it sent another shiver up my already quivering spine:

-“Have you ever been hypnotized before, Troy?” He asked, a tinge of mystery embedded in his tone. It was like a lure… and I wanted to bite, no, I needed to bite.

-“You can do that? Hypnotize me I mean?” I could feel my young penis twitch with anticipated excitement. Heck, Jacques might have seen it too for all I know.

The next thing I know, I’m sitting on Jacques bed, alongside him, staring into his beautiful eyes. He’s talking to me, saying something important, but I’m like, zoning in and out like when you wake from a dream… ya know?

-“Troy! Listen to me!” He said commandingly. “I can take you wiz me tonight, if you let me hypnotize you! What time did your father say he would be home?”

-“Dad? Home? I don’t know. He just said late.” I answered back dreamily. Whatever the heck Jacques was doing, I could tell I was already falling under his spell. I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t help myself.

He picked up the watch and spun it before my eyes. I was finished. I felt powerless to do anything but stare at the watch spinning at my eye-level. At the same time, I knew I liked the way I was feeling – dreamily detached but ever-focused on Jacques. I went with it, I figured I would have a chance to go with Jacques, get out of the house on a Friday night, to party with the big boys. I was ready! TAKE ME!


K, this next part is where the weirdness starts. My next memory, after sitting on the bed alongside Jacques, is of me lying between two chairs in some room that felt to me to be a basement. It wasn’t my basement that’s for sure. My parents had turned our basement into a series of guest rooms… if ever we had company or something. This basement I was in, seemed to be more of a storage-room. There was stuff strewn all over the place. I remember feeling jolted as if just shaken awake. Not knowing where I was wasn’t helping either, nor was the fact that I couldn’t move a single muscle in my body! No matter how hard I tried, my body was like a frozen metal beam. It actually felt as though someone had glued me into place and I remember feeling really freaked out. Still, I couldn’t scream or even move my mouth. What the hell was wrong with me? Then I heard the others talking. All guys, mind you. I think there were about four of them there in total.

-“K, Jacques put him back under, he looks terrified!” one voice spoke.

-“Yeah the kid’s only like 10 years old for crying out loud!” another voice seemed to be protesting. At that point I wasn’t even sure if they were talking about me!

A hand flashed in front of my face and the next thing I knew, I was in Jacques friend’s car, right in the middle of the back seat. My legs were extended forward, so that my feet were in the front of the car, within arms reach of Jacques and his friend. My shoes and socks were in the front seat, I could see them, but I obviously couldn’t reach them from where I was.

I remember I couldn’t move my feet, just like before, they were glued in place, but the rest of me could move, more importantly, my mouth could move. I could talk!

-“Jacques, what’s going on? Why can’t I move my feet?” I asked trying desperately to move them.

Jacques turned to look at me. He said something, I don’t recall what and then he began touching the soles of my feet in such a way, that made me burst out into an uncontrollable laughter fit. My upper body twitched violently as he continued to tickle me, I continued to laugh and laugh, I sounded like a freakin’ hyena, until I couldn’t laugh anymore. I literally started hiccupping, almost violently at one point.

Jacques said something else and I blacked out again. But before he did, I remember hearing the driver of the car say something like, “I can’t believe how hypnotized this kid is!” And then Jacques said whatever he said and that’s that. For that evening anyway. I woke up the next morning in my bed, confused and out of it. Was it all just a dream? I finally decided it was just a dream. I liked Jacques and so I dreamt that he did things to me. No biggie. Even my eleven-year old mind knew that dreams equaled fantasy. I got dressed, for some reason not putting on my socks, but not caring, it was Saturday morning and I remember wanting a bowl of cereal and some down time in front of the idiot box. Hopefully there’d be some cool cartoons on to watch.

As I came downstairs, I could hear Jacques talking. He was in the main floor den. I tiptoed toward the den, hoping to, I don’t know what… scare him or do something appropriately pubescent when I saw something that nearly had me stumble backward into my mother’s favorite standing vase! She would have killed me had I broken it. Still, I think she would have understood if I told her why it happened.

In the den, the room where I had friends over, the room where I played video games and watched movies, there sat my father – my own dad! He sat totally still. Looking like a frozen zombie – all he had on were his underpants and he was stroking his cock through his boxers! His feet were propped up on a pillow that lay on the cold marble coffee table directly across from where he was sitting. Standing directly above him, Jacques, holding that gold pocket watch I only thought I had remembered seeing in my dream.

He still hadn’t seen me, despite the near mishap with the vase, so I glued my body to the wall just outside the den and listened to what was going on in the den. I didn’t want to peak, besides, what I was hearing, was enough. My dad, well he didn’t sound like my dad. He sounded like some robot or some machine or something. And the stuff Jacques kept making him say… well, I don’t know. I’d be lying if I said a part of me wasn’t somehow intensely turned on. My dad was a formidable businessman, a tough, dominant personality with a maintained body to go with it. That little glimpse I had of him lying there so helpless like that in his boxers, got me hard. There, I said it.

But a bigger part of me needed to know where this was going, what were Jacques intentions here? I had no idea his intentions were purely sexual. How would an 11 year old truly know that?

I heard my dad, through the other room, saying things like,

-“I am your barefoot hypnotized slave, your wish is my command!” and while I knew I should feel worried, I didn’t even realize I had taken my little dipper out of it’s zipper and was playing with it right there in the hallway as I listened on intently.

What did it for me, was when Jacques issued his next command to dad: -“Pierce, you will repeat the word hypnotize over and over. Each time you say it you fall deeper into my control. Each time you say the word hypnotize you are more turned on. Feel your penis grow each time you say the word, ‘hypnotize’. Feel yourself getting closer and closer to orgasm as you repeat the word over and over and over and over…”

And then my dad began reciting this new mantra he had been given. I wish I had brought a tape recorder with me. Had you heard his voice, repeatedly saying the word ‘hypnotize’ over and over again, as if that’s all that mattered to him, you’d have been turned on too. He must have said it something like 100 times before… well, before. To hear my dad actually climax while in the middle of his ‘hyp-no-tize’ mantra, I have to admit, I jismed too. Right there. And the next thing I knew, Jacques was standing over me with the watch commanding me to enter the den.

My dick still exposed, I sleepwalked into the den. For some reason, my arms even came up in front of me, so that I must have looked like some sleepwalking zombie. I really felt like a fuckin’ zombie, powerless to resist Jacques. And I remember it felt amazing!

That’s all I remember about my time with Jacques, and for good reason – he left the next day. …Said he was going home because of a family emergency and that he planned to be back.

I waited for him. I even wrote him two letters, but I never did hear from him again. He did leave behind, something though… more like I borrowed it. Ok, I confess. Well, I thought he was coming back and that was one way for me, I don’t know, to make sure he returned or at the very least, got in touch again. He did say it was his grandfather’s special watch, and I was of course, thinking like a self-centered emotionally dependent pre-teen that I was. Ugh!

A few months went by, and yeah, ‘Mr. only-child’ here was truthfully, beginning to feel lonely again, even restless. Living in such a big house, with my parents, always busy, or away, no matter how many mod-coms, was still tough on a tween with just a few friends. I sometimes found myself wishing we lived in a cozy apartment instead of the big, cold Tudor home we lived in.

Then, the week before Christmas, just before I turned twelve and a half, I got the best Christmas present a guy could ever ask for. And his name was Hans!

At sixteen, Hans came to us from Finland and to say that he was shy, well, that’s an understatement. Hans and I became friends quickly though – I think he sensed I was harmless, plus I was 12, and I mean he was living in my house, so we quickly established a rapport. How could we not? But like, even when I had my friend Billy over, Hans would stay in his room! Not even come out to say hi or anything.

Hans was a beautiful guy in his own right. He was the exact opposite of Jacques. Hans had hazel colored, soft eyes, not at all piercing. His complexion was pale, like Jacques, but because he had light blonde hair, his skin tone appeared almost creamy. He wasn’t tall either – about my height then – he was maybe an inch taller than me. At 12, I was about 5’8 or so. (I now stand at six feet even).

Anyway, Hans and I got to hanging out quite a bit and I told him about Jacques. No, not the sticky stuff anyway – just the part of how he hypnotized me. I remember Hans’ reaction when I told him about Jacques doing that to me. He was concerned.

-“Did your parents know that Jacques was hypnotizing you?” He asked me. I remember thinking nothing of answering him back with a bold-faced lie, “Sure” I said and that was the end of Hans’ interrogation phase regarding Jacques. He didn’t seem that interested in the hypnotism angle, so not wanting him to think I was weird, I dropped it too.

Then, a few weeks after that, we were sitting in the den, Hans was actually sitting in the same spot my dad sat in when he was getting his mind played with by Jacques. Hans was flipping through the channels on the television when I noticed he flew right over an episode of Gilligan’s Island, I had seen once before.

-“Turn it back! Turn it back!” I yelled, almost giving Hans a heart attack.

-“What? To where? Channel 33?” He asked me as he flipped backward.

-“Stop!” I said when I saw Gilligan in a hypnotic trance, standing at attention in front of this creepy looking man who Gilligan kept referring to as his “master”.

Hans had never seen a Gilligan’s Island episode before. I found that odd, but he was from Finland, they probably had Gilligan’s Iceberg on there or something I thought. Even at 12 years of age my dick went instantly hard when I heard the exchange that was on the tv, and I kept looking back at Hans to see if he was as engrossed as I was. He seemed to be.

Gilligan: You called master?
Mad Doctor: Ah, my little guinea pig! You came!
Gilligan: I heard and obeyed master.
Mad Doctor: Do you know who I am Gilligan?
Gilligan: Do I know who you are Gilligan?
Mad Doctor: No, no! I am Doctor Borris Blankoff!
Gilligan: The Mad Scientist?!
Mad Doctor: No, no, scientist, yes! Mad, No! Heh Heh!
Gilligan: Yes Master.
Mad Doctor: Now, go into the cave!
Gilligan: Yes Master.

Gilligan then proceeded into the cave, walking like a zombie toward the mad scientist, and after three or four more ‘Yes Masters’, he was sent back to his castaways, programmed, brainwashed to obey his master.

When the show went to commercial, my first thought was to get that watch out of my sock drawer. I told Hans to hold on a minute and I ran like gangbusters up the stairs. In fact, I was so possessed with the thought of hypnotizing Hans, that I nearly tripped and fell down the stairs. I came back to the den moments later with the watch, slightly out of breath.

-“What are you doing?” He asked, amused as I came closer and closer to him while dangling the watch in his face.

-“Hypnotizing you Hans! You are sleepy! Very sleepy! You are going to be my hypnotized slave, and I am going to be your master!” I felt kind of stupid, but hey, what did I know, I was so young. Besides, I wanted my own Gilligan’s island moment with Hans and I was about to get one.

Without warning and suddenly, Hans sprung off the couch, came to complete attention and said,

-“Yes master. Command me and I will obey!” And he just stood there. For a brief second I actually thought I had hypnotized him!

-“Take off your shoes and socks!” I said to him, wanting to see him barefoot for some reason. At that young age too, I had no idea what a foot fetish was, you just know what you want to see, you know?

At that point, Hans burst out into laughter and sat back down.

-“Yeah right I’m gonna take off my shoes and socks, so you can like what? Smell my feet you little pervert!” He smiled and seemed to be making light of the odd request I had given him. And boy was I thankful for that. I felt totally embarrassed. Next time, I decided, I would start with a more rudimentary command.

Gilligan’s Island returned from commerical and we watched the final part – where the skipper is hypnotized next and then, the grand finale scene where all the castaways are hypnotized and turned into zombie slaves to help the doctor in his plans to break into Fort Knox. Of course Gilligan unknowingly foils the plan and they wake up, confused and blah blah, yada, yada.

Once the episode was over, it was time to turn my attention back to hypnotizing Hans. Sitting right next to him, I began swinging the watch Jacques left behind (humor me) in front of Hans’ face.

-“Oh come on Troy! You aren’t going to hypnotize me!” He said in a defeating tone. I, however, thought otherwise.

-“If you’re so sure, then why not a friendly bet?” I asked him.

-“Ok. You’re on! If you’re able to hypnotize me, I’ll.. I’ll do your laundry all week! But if you can’t hypnotize me, then you have to be my slave for the week!” Hans said slyly. Again, I knew this scene was going to unfold differently. There was only one catch:

-“Fine. But you have to try and be hypnotized. You can’t fight it or it won’t work!”

He precipitously agreed and we began. I don’t know why I knew this was all going to work, maybe subconsciously, I knew that Jacques’ watch had some kind of special power or ability. And I was of course right. Though my induction, the first I had ever done, was really stupid, I kept saying you are sleeeepy, over and over again because I didn’t really have the training or experience to know much else to say. I just kept telling him to watch the watch and go deeper and deeper into hypnosis.

I watched his expression intently. If he was putting me on, he was going a good job this time around. His muscles, not only in his face, but, everywhere in his body seemed totally relaxed, limp even.

It took less than five minutes and Hans’ head was plopped down on his chest, fast asleep.

I looked at the watch as I removed it from his former field of view, and I nearly felt myself getting lost in it again! I put it down quickly for fear I wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself with my hypnotized foreign exchange student, Hans.

“Now…” I said to him in a commanding tone, “You WILL take off your shoes and socks!” I threw in a random, “You must obey me!” but it wasn’t necessary. Hans was already leaning down and unlacing his sneakers and kicking them off. He was moving like someone who was asleep. Again, he was either a really good actor or he was in fact in trance, and I kept thinking, I needed to know for sure.

Once Hans had fulfilled my first order, his shoes and socks now off, he simply went back to sitting there… waiting on me to say something to him. His eyes remained closed.

-“Put your bare feet on the coffee table!” I ordered.

He did as I told him. Then I got another idea:

-“You will call me “Master” Hans – I am your master, you are my slave!”

True to hypnotic form (at least the Gilligan version) Hans meekly replied, “Yes Master”.

His feet were now firmly planted on the cold marble table before him. I didn’t give him a pillow for his feet because I wanted to see the pressure put on his heels as he stretched his legs across the gap between the sofa and coffee table. Sure enough, the skin on his heels folded over onto itself, much as I was hoping it would. I don’t know why, but when I think back to that morning with Jacques and my dad, the one image I remember are my dad’s feet, lying there fully exposed and wrinkly. I remember it turned me on even more and it was doing that to me again, then and there, with Hans.

I looked at Hans – he was so out of it. I think at that point I realized I had him. And I decided to take full advantage of the situation. Up until then, I hadn’t seen Hans’ barefoot. He was so private and shy, that I never saw him outside of his shoes, if you can believe that! Anyway, back to my hypno-puppet.

-“Hans, listen to your master and obey! Undo your jeans and slip them down to your knees! I’ll help you out of them!”

-“Yes Master!” And Hans unbuttoned his jeans compliantly and began to slide them down past his thighs to his knees. As indicated, I helped them down, lifting each foot off the table enough so as to allow me to get at his jeans.

When he was just in briefs and a sweatshirt, I stood back to admire my work. Truth is, I didn’t even know what to do next. I thought for a few moments and then disappeared into my dad’s study. I was fairly certain my dad had a camera in there. Sure enough…

I returned to the den and finished off my dad’s roll of film – taking sixteen pictures of Hans and his hypnotized feet. I was so turned on, but still, I didn’t know what to do with him, so I thought back to my experiences with Jacques and had Hans repeat the word ‘hypnotize’ over and over again as he concurrently, got himself closer and closer to climax. I reminded him, just like Jacques did with my dad, that each time he said the word, he would go deeper into hypnosis, more and more turned on. And then I sat back and watched. I had already finished the roll of film don’t forget!

I watch with hypnotized-like satisfaction as Hans brought himself to cum all over his underwear, and then, as per my previous instructions, he just lay there, totally zoned out, looking like even more of a zombie than my dad did that day.

I knew I had to wake Hans up as soon since my parents could have come home at any time and the last thing I needed was for them to find Hans and I like this.

-“Hans, listen to me and obey! Whenever I say the word ‘hypnotize’ to you, you will immediately go back into this hypnotic trance, only ten times deeper than you are now. You will once again know I am your master and you will refer to me that way. In fact, whenever I say the word “hypnotize” you will stand at attention and say, “Yes Master”, awaiting my commands. Is that understood slave?” I asked somewhat unsure of myself.

-“Yes master. I hear and I obey.” He replied back like a the hypnotized robot he was.

I then had him straighten up, put his pants back on and finally, his shoes. I sat him back in the same place he was before we began and proceeded to count him upward into full consciousness.

“3…2…1, AWAKEN!” I said with all the authority and tone of a master hypnotist.

Hans shook himself clear, completely unaware of what had just transpired.

-“See, I told you, you couldn’t hypnotize me, now you have to be my slave for the week!” he seemed almost triumphant in his assertion. I had to laugh. And I did.

Then, I conspicuously took his gray socks out of my pockets, swinging them in front of his face, much as I had with the watch earlier. Hans was thrown back, confused even in his response. I remember he had a hard time putting a sentence together as he looked down at his feet, lifted his jeans and saw he was no longer wearing socks.

-“What? How? When? Did you? I don’t... Hey!” His response went something like that.

-“I got your socks Hans, when you were under my power!” I was careful not to mention his post hypnotic trigger word, not yet anyway.

-“Ok dude, how did you get my socks?” Hans asked, reaching for them. I pulled back. “Hey! Give me my socks back!” he whined.

-“Not until you admit it Hans! I’m waiting…” Indeed, I was enjoying this.

Hans looked at me with eyes defeated.

-“Ok, you win! You hypnotized me! Are you happy? Now give me back my socks… please!” He did seem a little perturbed with all of this I must say. He stood up and seemed to be lunging toward me. Without thinking, I blurted out his post-hypnotic trigger:

-“Hypnotize!” I shouted it, I didn’t just say it, I shouted it.

Hans froze in his tracks and nearly fell forward, face-first onto the coffee table. It’s good I caught him and pushed him backward, onto the couch.

I looked at the clock on the VCR. Six pm. If I was lucky, the folks wouldn’t be home for another hour or so. So, I went another round with Hans’ bare feet, which at that point in time meant, I essentially buried my face in his feet until, overwhelmed, I came all over myself. Happy birthday!

Hans was the first of MY hypno-victims. He left in mid-May the following year. By the time he left, he had essentially become my complete hypno-foot slave, servicing my feet on command, but more importantly, making his feet available to me on my whim. And I had some fanciful whims for a 12 year old, let me tell you!


Four months after Hans left back to Finland, we got another exchange student, this time from Kenya. His name was Umi and he was An African God – sculpted black muscles, tall, trim, everything about him was big and defined. When I first saw Umi, I knew, he was someone I wanted to hypnotize and control. And I just knew I had to see his feet. Oh and the best part about my time with Umi? Half-way through the semester, my folks took on another foreign exchange student, because his sponsors were in some kind of family crisis. When Sun Yin Fo came to our door and Umi and I greeted him (Umi in a deep hypnotic trance of course) I almost came right there! And let me tell you, even the wild imaginings of a sex-hungry 13 year old were nothing compared to the real-life fun, Umi, Sun and I had over Christmas break especially!

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