Hypnotized College Footmen: Hypno-sex 101 (The Introduction)

Dean Fenton was not quite your ordinary-run-of-the-mill Midwestern College Freshman. Ok, he had the same things prevailing on his mind as others in his age group: Boobs, sex, booze, partying and ok, occasionally a few hits from a joint, if the mood was right, oh and a bit of rock and roll thrown in for good measure. He didn’t have a steady girlfriend – why bother, when the field was so wide open? And Dean certainly had his share of action with members of the female persuasion, spending time with as many as three different girls on any given weekend and earning him the well-earned campus nickname, “Dean the Sex Machine”!

Dean’s looks might, in part anyway, have explained his ease with the women. Dirty blonde shoulder length hair, olive skin, deep piercing hunter-green eyes, a 32 inch waist, a buffed 5 foot 11 inches of bod with a killer smile that could melt the ice-caps of Mars, if he was so inclined. Thankfully, Dean Fenton kept his interests Earthbound. No one could argue, Dean Fenton’s size 12’s were firmly planted and rooted in the here, the now, the immediate.

With his first semester under his belt and a well-deserved Christmas vacation to Florida now but a distantly fond series of memories, it was now, first day back and Dean was, as usual, late for his period class at 9 AM and his roommate Rodney had no problem joshing him about it, again.

-“Dude! You’re late again? Not the way to start off the semester!” Rodney joked as he shook his index finger at Dean with disdain. He watched, somewhat tickled, Dean running through the common eating area, a piece of toast suspended in his mouth while holding one sock and putting on the other, hopping, like some disjointed kangaroo after a weekend of keggers.

-“Stupid alarm clock doesn’t wake me up anymore!” Dean cursed as he continued his jumping circus act through the kitchen.

-“It’s not that it doesn’t wake you up – it’s that you keep pressing the snooze button, ya moron!” Rodney was still laughing at Dean’s expense. “Anyway, what class are you missing? I hope it’s not Corp Law 101!”

-“Nah, it’s some elective course I took – something to do with sex or something!” Dean had just got his shoes on and was heading out the door of their dorm when Rodney called back after him:

-“Hey Dean, make sure you introduce yourself to the class as “Dean the Sex Machine!”

-“Right! Bite me spaz!” Dean shot back amicably, before closing the door and rushing off to class, tripping actually, last night’s booze still swirling through his system.

His class was only a building away from where he was being housed, so it was a simple jaunt across the lawn and he was there. Now he just had to find Room 100 and concoct some excuse to the teacher about getting lost on his first day and all would be forgotten. Well, at least until he was late the next time.

Actually, he did get a bit lost – thinking Room 100 was on the first floor, he walked through the first floor corridor not even realizing that the room numbers on this floor were all in the 200 series. It wasn’t until he was half-way down the long hall that he realized his error and made his way to the nearest stairwell.

Finally – room 100! The door was locked so he knocked, at first gently and then, a little more aggressively. The floor seemed otherwise deserted – empty classrooms, no signs of life or others and Dean was momentarily getting the creeps. What if his schedule had misprinted the room number where he was supposed to be? About ready to turn and leave, the door creaked open about an inch, revealing an inquisitive eyeball behind a set of wire-rimmed specs.

Dean was slightly taken aback.

-“Uh, is this the sex class?” he asked sheepishly, somewhat oafishly.

-“This is Hypno-Sex 101.” The voice replied blandly, a whispered strain.

-“Yeah, that’s the one. I’m sorry I’m late. I got lost and then I…”

The door swung open quickly, but rather than Dean being invited in, the man who answered the door came out into the hall, closing the door behind him. Dean was able to get a brief glimpse in the room despite the fact that it appeared to be almost completely dark. He saw a couple of rows of students simply sitting at their desks, staring straight ahead, at what, he could not tell.

-“Er, listen um…” The professor started, implying he wanted to know Dean’s name.

-“Dean.” Dean answered compliantly.

-“I already started today’s demonstration and I can’t have you coming in here late!” The professor sounded a little stern Dean thought. He was only fifteen minutes late after all! Big fuckin deal! Still, he wanted to get off on the right foot.

-“Sorry Professor. It won’t happen again I promise! Say, are they all hypnotized in there or somethin’?” Dean asked inquisitively.

The professor gave the young man a quick once over.

-“Yes, they are Dean. Now, rather than letting you into the classroom now, I’d like you to wait here till after the class is over. I’ll talk to you after the class and we’ll see if I can get you caught up with what the other students learnt here today!” The professor then gently squeezed Dean’s shoulder and slithered back into his classroom, closing the door quickly behind him.

Dean was momentarily stupefied. What had just happened? Why had he agreed to wait there in this deserted hallway for the next hour and fifteen minutes? What a waste of time. Still, Dean felt compelled to wait right there for the Professor’s class to end.

It was a long hour during which Dean did fall asleep – sitting on the floor, back leaning against the far wall, legs outstretched, he caught some much needed z’s. He was finally jarred awake though by the sound of the classroom doors opening and about twenty five students talking as they were leaving. Rubbing his eyes and getting to his feet, Dean noticed that every single student exiting the classroom, was male. Not one female in the group!

He didn’t even know why, but something told him he should be leaving then and there with the rest of the class, but somehow his feet took him directly into the awaiting classroom and the professor’s manipulative clutches.

-“Ah, Dean! I’m glad you waited. Shut the door please and have a seat over here!” The professor practically barked and pointed to the desk closest his own at the front.

Dean entered the class and was immediately struck by how the chairs and tables were set up: Two chairs per student’s desk, facing each other. Dean just as quickly assumed this design was for some kind of pairing up of students for some exercise or other.

-“Uh, sure thing. Um, professor, were there any chicks in this class? I mean no offence, but I didn’t see one girl leaving here! If the class is about sex, shouldn’t we have, at the very least, a mix of guys and girls?” Dean asked somewhat nervously as he sat down in the indicated chair.

There was no warning. It just started then and there.

-“Dean. I want you to look at this watch!” The professor took a gold pocket watch from his jacket pocket and thrust it at Dean’s eye-level. It was almost a B-Movie routine Dean thought to himself.

-“Whoa! Is this for real? You’re really gonna hypnotize me?” Dean asked, a bit confused and taken off guard. Still, despite that, he began to watch the swinging blob of glitter sway back and forth just inches from his captive eyes.

-“Just relaaaaax Dean and let go… feel your muscles relaxing, starting with your toes. I want you to flex your toes Dean. Strain them and then relax them. Again!” The professor watched with some degree of satisfaction as Dean’s toes appeared to move through his sneakers, in compliance with the professor’s orders.

-“Now, Dean, why don’t you kick off your shoes – this will help you to relax!” The professor issued the order and within seconds, Dean’s size 12 sneakers were strewn on the floor, just adjacent to his now white-socked feet. He didn’t even have to think about it, and he didn’t, he just removed his shoes as if it was his own idea. Still, the watch continued to sway, the professor droned on and on and gradually, Dean felt like he was losing consciousness and ever so listlessly, he closed his drooping lids, resolving to just go with whatever was happening to him.

It had been fifteen minutes since the professor began his hypnotic spiel and true to form, yet another student proved amply pliable. From the class of twenty six young men that had just left, only one student proved unable to enter into trance of sufficient depth to be able to plant post-hypnotic amnesia. This part of the professor’s plan was crucial. But for now, well, for now, the indoctrination phase, it was all about having some rather innocent fun.

The professor took a second step back from his most recent subject to admire his own work.

-“You are in a deep hypnotic trance now Dean, you will do whatever I tell you!”

Dean barely moved his lips to respond compliantly,

“…wha…ever…ya…tell m’…”

-“I want you to put your feet up on the chair in front of you. When your heels hit the chair’s surface, you will feel yourself getting ten times more relaxed than you are now!”

Dean’s legs rose automatically, coming to rest on the chair strategically placed just in front of his desk.

The professor took another moment to admire this one, trying to decide if he was better looking than Kevin, a student in the class just before. The two were about the same size but whereas Dean was relatively light skinned, light haired, Kevin was dark skinned, Mediterranean-like, dark hair, dark facial hair, hairy body, even on his feet. Already the professor could tell Dean was not at all as hairy as Kevin.

-“Dean. Listen to me and obey! Hear my voice and obey! I am going to ask you a series of questions and you will respond to me truthfully and honestly. Do you understand?” The professor’s voice was now far less of a monotone and much more of military sergeant commander.

-“…unde…sta.” Dean’s head had plopped downwards into his chest, making his blurred, sleepy responses, even more muffled.

-“First, lift your hear up and look at me! Look at me in the eyes, and go deeper into my power… deeper into my control Dean – you cannot fight it! You cannot. Your legs and feet are paralyzed now, they cannot move, not one inch! Go ahead and try to move your legs, your feet or your toes, you will see you cannot!”

Again, Dean’s face portrayed the epitomic image of someone who was trying with all their might to move, but couldn’t. The strain on his face was sexy, particularly since the professor knew all of Dean’s efforts would result in naught.

-“In fact, you feel nothing below your knees! Your knees downward are frozen and you feel nothing!”

-“Feel… nuthin’…” Dean mumbled back sleepily oblivious.

The professor moved in on his victim, taking hold of his right foot and lifting it almost to his chest level.

-“Now Dean! Tell me your full name!” The professor ordered as he played with the most upper part of Dean’s right tube sock, half way up the stud’s calf.

-“Dean Andrew Fenton”

-“And what is your sexual orientation?” The professor asked as he grabbed the toes of Dean’s sock with his mouth.

-“Straight.” Dean answered without even a second thought.

-“And have you ever had a sexual experience with another guy before?” The professor was enjoying this interrogation. As he asked the last question, he had Dean’s right sock about half way off as he continued to pull with it with his teeth. Now however, the professor was able to get a look at Dean’s heel, and so far, he liked what he was seeing. Nothing like University student feet, he thought to himself as Dean continued to struggle with the last question.

-“You must answer me honestly, Dean Andrew Fenton!” The professor barked. And by now, Dean’s right sock was being wrapped around the professor’s ever-swelling penis, which was, exposed out of its fly like a jutting missile emerging from its silo. Dean’s now bare right foot was placed carefully on the high back of the second chair as the professor moved on to his left sock.

Dean hesitated a little more before finally responding,

-“My brother and I used to jerk off together all the time – b…but we used Penthouses, not each other!” Dean finally conceded, looking rather uncomfortable.

-“Just relax Dean… feel your thoughts drifting away. Just focus on my voice. Hear my voice and respond to my voice. Now, have you ever touched another guy’s dick before? I need to know this Dean!” The professor was now sexily tracing swirly patterns on the sole of Dean’s left sock.

-“No. Once, accidentally at the Y, I bumped into someone.” Dean recalled sluggishly.

-‘And you felt his penis?’ The professor asked his helpless victim, as he gently massaged Dean’s now bare left foot. He had it raised right up to his face and was taking in all the slight odors and nuances of it: The intricate lines of the skin on the foot fascinated him, and he stared at the pattern for some time, his nose on the ball of Dean’s foot as he stroked himself rhythmically.

Dean continued with his explanation:

-“Yeah… actually, we bumped into each other… and…” Dean’s voice trailed off, as if he was too tired to recall the memory. The professor however prodded on.

-“And what Dean? Tell me!” He was masturbating himself now using Dean’s paralyzed right foot.

-“We really bumped into each other. I was going to the showers and he was coming from the showers… When we bumped, our dicks touched for a second and we were both really freaked by it. That’s all. I like chicks.” Dean responded back, somewhat assertively considering his right foot was now being rubbed against some strange man’s penis.

The professor continued his information acquisition campaign, as he stroked himself something silly.

-“Do you live alone Dean?” He asked as he took Dean’s right foot and placed it between his legs, squeezing his foot with his upper thighs and lower pelvic region. All the while, Dean remained comfortably oblivious, as instructed.

-“Nah, I have a roommate.”

-“Are you on campus?”

-“Yeah. Across the street in the Benjamin building.” Dean even lifted his hand, albeit very weakly, to point in some random direction. It was literally, as if he were giving directions, that’s how casual it was. That’s how casual Dean felt. The professor knew he had him, at least preliminarily. The big stuff would have to wait… for now.

-“Describe your roommate to me Dean!” The professor ordered.

Dean got an immediate smile on his face. Rodney and him were both from the same town, the same high school where they had been friends since the first day of Junior High. As Dean heard the question prompted, his mind was immediately filled with hundreds, if not thousands of memories he had with what was, his best friend in the world.

-“Rodney’s a spaz.” Dean blurted out with a slight grin on his blank hypnotized face.

-“What else?” The professor rolled his eyes. There definitely were pros and cons to hypnotizing heterosexual college freshmen.

-“He’s a funny guy. Studying pre-Law like me. Best friend. Trust him.” Dean’s response was choppy, but he really didn’t know what the professor wanted to know, so he summarized what was at the front of him subconscious, expectantly.

-“No Dean. Tell me what Rodney looks like!” The professor seemed to be losing his patience and a little of his erection. Distractions – distractions!

-“Rodney… he’s, he’s ok looking… he just needs to put himself out there more. The girls would love him, he’s just a little shy.” Dean spoke sympathetically of his good friend. He knew deep down that Rodney always admired his ease with the chicks, often spending half a night or more asking him for advice. In a way, Dean kind of felt like Rodney’s more experienced older brother. This despite the fact that Rodney was actually three month’s Dean’s senior.

Realizing he was going nowhere fast with this type of open-ended questioning, the Professor began a more aggressive round as he continued to ride Dean’s right foot.

-“Dean, what color hair does Rodney have?”

-“Black” Instantaneous answer. That’s what the professor wanted.

-“How tall is he?”

-“Taller than me – maybe 6,2 or 6,3. He plays b-ball… here on a partial sports scholarship.”

The professor stopped riding Dean’s foot for just one second. His plan was about to go into second gear, courtesy Dean Andrew Fenton.

-“Dean… you had a great class today – you learned all about hypnotism and you want to go home and talk to Rodney about it all night long. Eventually you will convince him to come and see me to talk about him potentially getting into my class. Even if he can’t fit it into his schedule, you will tell him that you still want him to meet me. You need to do this Dean… you need to bring Rodney to me! Repeat that!”

-“…Need to bring Rodney to you.” Dean responded back, like an inanimate echo.

-“Again and again! Keep saying it and drill it into your mind!” The professor now had both of Dean’s bare feet cupped in his hands, he was, finally preparing to ride his foot-stallion to climax and then wipe his memories of the event with Dean’s own dogs.

-“I need to bring Rodney to you. I need to bring Rodney to you. I need to bring Rodney to you. I need to bring Rodney to you. I need…” Dean continued on like a programmed robot, repeating the phrase over and over as instructed.

-“Now, you will talk to Rodney about your newfound fascination with the subject of hypnosis – you are really into it. Into learning it and maybe even practicing on Rodney!”

Behind his own spoken words, Dean was hearing a series of other instructions he would have to remember later that day when he was back in his dorm room with Rodney.

The professor, having cum a giant pent-up load onto both of Dean’s bare feet and ankles, pulled back, somewhat strained. He couldn’t do that in a class of twenty plus students for fear that one or more would be cognizant enough to remember. But Dean was extremely responsive to suggestions and was alone with the professor. He would thus make for an excellent lure-device, helping the professor recruit other hypno-foot slaves on his behalf. The professor had a good eye for these things. He could tell Dean was popular and had potential access to many other college studs.

-“You may stop repeating that phrase Dean! You know you’re first mission is to bring Rodney to me! You know that now. But you also have several other missions you will obey and fulfill with no awareness or memory of having done them. Is that understood?” The professor was cleaning up what little bit of cum remained with Dean’s discarded left sock. His right sock was likewise covered in cum, having remained on the professor’s dick throughout the entire interrogation and subsequent orgasm.

-“Mission…” Dean responded dreamily.

-“Mission Number Two: Try and hypnotize Rodney. You want to be a hypnotist and you need friends with whom to experiment on. Rodney is perfect, because he lives with you, you two are best friends and he trusts you, right? So he should have no problem letting you hypnotize him!”

-“trusts me... he’ll let me… hyp…ma…tize…him”

-“That’s right… so what’s your second mission? What are you going to do to Rodney?”

-“I gonna hypnotize Rodney.”

-“That’s right. Now, secondly, and remember this very carefully. You might not be able to hypnotize him right away. That’s why you want to learn more. So you will meet with me tomorrow at 5pm right here, room 100. You will come alone and tell no one where you are going. And as proof of your hypnotic servitude to me, you will bring me a pair of Rodney’s socks. You will have no memory of doing it and you must wait for an opportunity when Rodney is either out of your room or sleeping. But you will take a pair of his socks, put them in your bag and bring them to me tomorrow afternoon. Do you understand all these instructions I’ve given you Dean? It’s a lot to remember, but your subconscious will hear and will obey, compulsively, without a second thought. Is that clear!?”


-“Now, Dean…” the professor began, as he zipped up his fly and put the rest of his material in his satchel, preparing to leave. “I am going to leave this classroom but you are to remain in this deep hypnotic trance for another ten minutes or so. During this time you will put your socks and shoes back on, you will not realize, see or feel any cum on your feet and you will continue to be oblivious to this until I tell you otherwise. You will remember being hypnotized today and have only positive memories and feelings about the experience. Finally, when you do wake up, you will believe you just popped into this classroom to get a few moments of shut-eye. You were tired and needed a little nap. You will not think anything else. Do you understand Dean?”

-“I understand.” Dean murmured back as the professor quietly shut the door behind him.

To be continued?