Drums (hypno)

Simon was an avid hiker. Every couple of months or so he'd go up into the backwoods for a camping weekend. It didn't matter where on the continent he was, for he traveled around a lot for his job, he would find some place to camp and hike and take in whatever was the local park or reserve or whatever.

He'd surprised the park runner, a man who wasn't much older then him, when he'd first showed up and rented a campsite. “How'd you find us?” The man had asked.

“Oh, saw these hills driving into town, thought they were nice enough that there would have to be some kind of park or site or something.” Simon had replied.

“You moving into town?”

“For a bit. Got hired by one of your local companies to do some efficiency work on their production line. Be here a few months.”

“Don't you want to get settled into your hotel room, then, get set for Monday?”

“Oh, I will, but the job doesn't start for a week, so I got here early to see what the hiking was like on the weekends. You'll probably be seeing a lot of me while I'm in town.”

“Right. Well, then, have a good time.”

That had been this morning, and so far he had a great time. Once you got away from the campsite area, which was do deep in the valley between the hills to have a good view, the countryside was quite pretty. As Simon descended the trail back to camp, he set a slow easy pace and just... just...

Simon shook his head trying to clear it. There was something off and he couldn't put his finger on it. Suddenly he realized that it seemed to be drumming. He was pretty sure it was coming from the campsite, but he wasn't sure what kinda drum it was or why anyone was playing it that loud. The sound seemed very bland, lacking in anything but the recognition of a drumming beat. He realized that he'd be walking in synch with those beats, and assumed that the synching was what was making him zone out. Setting off again, he broke his pace in order to avoid it.

However, as he walked closer and closer to the camp, other actions seemed to start to synch as well. Blinking, the motion of his hands, all seemed to start to match up with the drumming and drag him into the pace. He resisted, trying to figure out why this sound was affecting him like this when a new sound seemed to add on top of the drumming, in tandem with it and bringing a much different feeling with it.

The new aspect to the beat seemed to go right to Simon's balls. Each beat felt like a stimulation, a building of energy that was hard to ignore or break. Grunting and groaning a little, he tried to keep on track with getting back to his campsite, but the surging feeling in his balls made walking difficult. He cupped them through his pants, trying to adjust them, and felt a thrill of absolute pleasure. He stopped dead and groaned, his will to resist the drumming fading.

The drumming and the feeling of a hand on his balls started his cock stirring, beginning to rise as Simon's focus waned. More and more he felt that he had to feel the drumming. How it could make him feel so much better. How the direct touch could make him feel so much better. But people may come along. A slowly weakening part of his mind reminded him. But the rhythm and his growing state of arousal made it harder and harder to think about anything else but his harder and harder cock. It begged to be released and eventually Simon could think of no reasons why he shouldn't.

Stopping by the side of the trail, he undid his pants and pulled out his cock and balls, resting his hands on them The pleasure intensified almost tenfold at that point, and he began to stroke his cock in time to the beat. It felt so good to do so, to just let the beat help. Let it show him the path to more pleasure. All the had to do was follow it's instructions. Those were never too hard. And so he barely noticed when his hands stopped every so often to peel another piece of clothes off.

By the time he was completely naked, his body was in synch with the beat, and his mind could baely form coherent thoughts. And so he stood there, naked and masturbating at the side of the trail, as the beat got faster... and faster... and faster... until his mind went blank and he came hard. His spunk shot straight up, spattering his chest and even hitting under his chin. His conscious mind locked in the endless pleasure of it and lost control completely.


Simon's face slid to an impassive mask as his subconscious took over, dominated as it was by the mysterious beat. Putting on only his shoes, he picked up the rest of his clothes and began to walk purposely into camp. The only thing that still seemed to be responding to the drums was his cock, which stayed erect and twitched with each beat.

A short walk later had Simon emerging from the trail by the park runner's cabin. Three other young men stood in a semicircle on the amphitheater’s stage, all naked, all blank faced, and all with twitching cocks. At the center, the park runner drummed a pair of odd drums, now quite rapidly. However, seeing Simon, he stopped and stood. “There's our final guest. Gentlemen, this is Simon. He's going to be our new friend, isn't that right Simon?”

Simon looked blankly ahead as he responded. “Yes.”

“Let me introduce myself, Simon. I'm your master, and whenever you hear my drums, you will snap back to this state of servitude, do you understand?”

“Yes Master.”

The park master ran his hands across Simon's chest, smearing his cum. “I think you're a keeper. Simon, over the next few weeks, you will find you love our town, and will find a permanent position. You will live in town while you work, and join the camping club to camp every weekend with the rest of us, do you understand.”

“I understand and will obey as instructed, Master.”

The Park master rubbed his hands together, smiling wickedly at his new acquisition. “Well, gentlemen, we only have a few days, let's get this orgy started!”