Inevitable 2 (mm hypno coll)

Disclaimer: The naked hypnotist strides confidently into your room. His lips curl in what might be a smile as he dangles his shiny crystal pendulum before your eyes and announces, “Listen and obey. If you are not of legal age, or if you offended by sexual situations, you will leave this place immediately. From here on, no matter how autobiographical it may seem, everything will seem like fiction to you, a pleasant dream where scientific possibilities and laws may change according to my suggestion. Now, if you are willing, sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

Copyright © 2012 by Wrestlr. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of “Adult Verification”) is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can’t use this without the express permission of (and payment to) the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

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Good stories all have this thing, this formula, that’s so cool. See, there are always two or more plots. One’s normal, and the other’s some wild shit, and then you find out that they’re connected, that it’s all one plot. That’s the essence of—

Okay, okay. Let me show you instead.

Coach’s office, the next day. Coach Cox told his assistant to take over, and Coach called Jake and me into his office as soon as practice ended. I heard the assistant coach holler out, “What comes after one hundred” and the guys answer “Ninety-nine” as the door shut.

I was ready. I took the purple crystal out of the pocket of my warm-up jacket and pulled the cord over my neck.

Jake and I both wore just our practice swimsuits and warm-up jackets, but now I wore a crystal pendant that was just like Coach’s except for the cord.

“Have a seat, boys,” Coach said as he parked his butt on the corner of his desk. Jake sat down. I didn’t.

Coach spoke to me, “So, Professor Johnson tells me he’s been trying to have a talk with you but you’ve been avoiding him.” Then he realized what he saw on my chest. “Where’d you get—”

“Let me take this one, Coach. You just sit back and enjoy the show.” I didn’t give Coach a chance to say anything. I turned to Jake, held up the crystal as if it was going to do the work, and ordered him, “Sleep!”

Crystal or Voice Of Authority, it didn’t matter. Pretty soon, I had Jake asleep, just like the night before. Naked too, just like the night before. And hard—that boy seemed to get hard the minute the hypnosis began. Maybe they’d trained him to do that. I worked my jacket and swimsuit down and off, one-handed, so I was bare-ass and erect too. No reason not to give Coach the whole show.

I leaned back against the desk and had Jake kneel and demonstrate his oral skills on me again, really putting on a show for Coach. At least Jake was starting to get better at blowjobs.

Then I had a wild idea. I turned the crystal toward Coach and poked his chest with my other hand. “Sleep!” I ordered him in my most authoritative voice.

Ambushed, he said, “What? Stop that.”

“Sleep!” I commanded, poking his chest again.

I’ll skip right to the good parts. I figured if Professor Johnson had gotten to Jake, he probably got to Coach too. It was just a matter of convincing Coach I was the authority here.

“Sleep, Cox! Focus on my voice, and sleep.”

I kept at him, kept drilling at him. The process took longer than with Jake, because I guess Coach was used to being in charge, but soon I had him blinking. When he stifled a yawn, I knew I had him. Soon I had his eyes closed, and I had him.

I talked him through the process I read about on the Internet, deepening the trance, settling him down into a nice state of hypnosis. Coach didn’t put much must resistance at all after those first few minutes. I guess the Professor had him pretty well-trained too.

Soon, I had Coach Cox naked and hard and kneeling before me too. I pulled my cock out of Jake’s mouth and offered it to Coach. Maybe Coach would be better at sucking cock than Jake.

He was. Coach Cox leaned forward on his knees, his chin brushing my thigh as he took my cock into his mouth, one hand guiding my shaft in, the other cupping my hip and the edge of my ass. I felt his lips sliding down, then back up, caressing the shaft. I was so fucking horny I had to start fucking his face a little. Where Jake was a rank beginner, Coach was an expert at sucking. His tongue flicked all around my cock. The sensations were feathery and light, then strong and determined. I moaned my appreciation as I pumped my hips toward him.

Coach was deeply hypnotized, but he still took charge of the suck-job, and I let him. He reached up and gently ran his fingers across my chest. Pinching my nipple, he eased me back until I was sprawled on the surface of his desk. I put my knees over his shoulders while his strong hands rubbed my upper body. He was under my hypnotic control, but I let his expert hands and mouth take over. His mouth slurped away as it plunged up and down on my rod. I could feel the cum gathering in my overstuffed balls. I reached that magical point where my orgasm began.

“That’s it, Coach,” I panted. “Make me cum! Get ready to swallow it.”

Coach’s mouth locked tight around my cock head. My spunk fired into his mouth and his throat muscles worked, swallowing, taking everything my balls pumped at him.

I pulled my cock out of Coach’s mouth. I needed to catch my breath. I told Jake and Coach to suck each other, and they coiled into a sixty-nine position on the floor in front of the desk. I could tell Coach was getting close; he started slowly on Jake but now he increased the speed and suction of his mouth, taking all of Jake’s dick down his throat and holding it there, softly shaking his head back and forth.

Jake was in pure hypnotized ecstasy too. So I said, “Cum, Jake,” and he couldn’t stop himself from shooting. Coach swallowed the first shot, then quickly took his mouth off Jake’s cock and ran his tongue up and down the bulging veins. Jake shot again and again, and the gooey, white gobs landed on his chest and abs and on Coach’s face.

Jake kept sucking on Coach’s rod, working the bottom half of the shaft with his hand. “Cum, Cox,” I told Coach. “Cum now.” Coach’s body stiffened and twitched, and a hip-jerk made his cock pop out of Jake’s mouth. The first spit of Coach’s cum landed on Jake’s jaw and shoulder; the rest dribbled down his cheek and neck.


The big downfall of campus life is that everyone’s constantly moving, everyone’s in a continual state of transition. One semester you’re in classes together and see the same people all the time and get to be friends, and the next you’re in different classes, or they transfer to a different college or graduate or drop out, and you never see each other again. Shit like that. People are always coming together then moving apart, combining and recombining. I thought joining a fraternity would give me a sense of stability, a place to belong. Rush was hell but I made it through. At first I felt lost, overwhelmed—I had studies and the swim team, and then moving into the frat house and life in the frat itself got thrown on top of that—but I found my footing soon enough. I had no idea my brothers and I would get to know each other so intimately just from sharing bathrooms and hanging out and shit like that. After I started accepting that I was gay after rush, I realized life might be trickier in the frat house than I’d anticipated. I needed something to take my mind off my body and my need for sex—and my need for a place to fit in, which went beyond my need for sex. I threw myself into studying and swimming. I didn’t think hanging around the guys would make me so hot; I didn’t think I’d meet people this intense and this sexy. I was terrified that I’d be taunted by all that rampant nudity and blurred sexuality and still wind up not getting laid and not finding a boyfriend. Then, when Jake and I started rooming together and I found myself saddled with a huge crush on him ...

Let’s change the scene. Narrators can do that—we can move the story forward and backward in time, or change the setting entirely. That’s what narrators do. If you don’t like it?—Well, like I said, I don’t see any other danged narrator here.

The next day was Saturday, the weekend—I didn’t have classes or swim practice. What I had was a bladder that woke me up with a need to piss. I needed a shower too.

I staggered down to the stairs. The bathroom, a big light-filled place that was perversely free of privacy, had been converted into a communal-style shower room, complete with a bench. Mornings, I usually ran into some of my frat brothers naked there, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I stumbled into the bathroom and found Junior standing in front of one of the mirrors nude, putting in his contacts. His roommate Peter, also naked, was at the sinks shaving the last third of his face. “Check it out—it’s Sleeping Beauty risen from the crypt,” Junior called out as I shambled in, mixing his metaphors, in his booming voice that ensured none of my frat brothers would be sleeping off a hangover with him around.

“What’s up?” I said, as if this scene was normal; as if every day closeted gay guys in frat houses all over the world walked into bathrooms landmined with naked jocks. Which I guess does happen.

“Hey, did you hear about last night when we went through the McDonalds drive-through completely naked?” Junior asked, looking at me in the mirror as I cozied up to a urinal and began to piss.

“It was the stuff of legends,” Peter added.

My peripheral vision took in Junior’s smooth, hairless ass, the legs of a Greek statue. His freshly showered hair had gone wild and hadn’t been combed yet. “So what’d you guys order?” I asked, reeling from the daily effort of being the house faggot walking into this locker room peep show and trying not to get hard.

Junior ran the razor through the last bit of shaving cream and rinsed it under the faucet. “I was in the passenger seat with my feet up on the dash. I ordered a double cheeseburger and fries. Peter here ordered a pack of condoms.”

I laughed, flushed, and walked toward the showers, which were really just nozzles sticking out of the wall. I hung my towel on a peg, turned on the water, and stripped out of my tee-shirt and shorts. From under the spray I had a full view of Peter and Junior and their dicks. My dick began growing, and I turned my hips away so they wouldn’t see. Peter and Junior were two of those guys everyone’s jealous of because they have it all: looks, popularity, buckets of masculinity, and in this case really nice dicks that I’d seen hard just a couple of nights ago and was seeing soft right in front of me.

Junior scratched at his neatly trimmed pubic hair. “The problem is,” he said, “there weren’t any chicks working, and the guys there refused to serve us.” He looked me right in the eye, as if we weren’t all three nude, like we were having beers. I could feel my dick perking up a little, and I prayed for it to go down. “We were really hungry.”

Peter hollered to be heard over the spray. “I was out of condoms and really needed to get some. I was told McDonalds sold ‘em”—and here he scowled at Junior—“but I guess I was misinformed by someone.”

They laughed. I laughed too, and I kept trying not to look at them below the waist—unsuccessfully. It was my daily battle of ecstasy and torture all at once, and I was a willing participant. My dick managed somehow to not get hard.

Junior caught me glancing at their dicks though and smirked at me, like he figured something out. Time to change the subject.

“So,” I said, “what were you doing naked in the car that you needed condoms for?”

Peter grinned. “We were drunk off our asses. Driving around naked was a joke. It was funny as shit at the time.”

Junior smacked Peter’s arm. “It was nearly as wild as that time I walked in and caught you with your dick stuck in the vacuum cleaner hose when you tried to use it to suck you off. It would have been funny—if it wasn’t so totally pervo.”

Great. As if I needed the image of Peter with an erection fucking a vacuum. Not getting hard was hard—er, difficult—enough already.

Peter smacked Junior back. “I was not getting my dick sucked by the vacuum cleaner. I thought the hose just happened to be the right size, but I didn’t use enough lube and got stuck. I had to wait ‘til my dick went down to get free. I still jizzed, but out of spite, not pleasure.”

Junior howled his laughter. “Aww, look—now he’s all upset because I told the vacuum cleaner story. Don’t be so uptight. Everybody masturbates ... just, uhm, not with household appliances.” Junior smacked Peter’s arm again. “C’mon, let’s go tell Marcel about McDonalds.” And then they were gone, running off naked to find Marcel.


I finished my shower and dried off. I headed naked into one of the toilet stalls, closed the door, dropped my clothes, towel and little pack of toiletries on the floor, and had a seat. I didn’t need to shit—I needed to masturbate. I had lube in my pack. All I needed was a few minutes with nobody else in the bathroom and I’d pump out a load so I could face my frat brothers without throwing an erection.

I heard somebody rush in and head to the urinals, then a steady stream of piss. Which went on for a while. Then pledgemaster Taz’s voice boomed: “This has got to be the longest piss ever. I’m such an asshole for not timing it!” Yeah, that’s our Taz.

Marcel walked in. He and Taz said hey to each other. For once Marcel wasn’t wearing a baseball cap—in the showers was about the only place I ever saw him without one. Marcel dropped his maroon shorts and claimed one of the shower heads.

Taz flushed the urinal, hung his shorts and towel on a peg, and sauntered into the showers too. They didn’t know I was there. I couldn’t make out what they were talking about over the shower noise, and I couldn’t see much through the crack between the stall door and partition wall.

I was still nude and I’d retreated into that stall to jack off, so my dick was already expecting some attention. Looking at Taz and Marcel all naked and showering had my dick interested. Were Marcel and Tax going to do another shower jack-off? My prick stood up, proud and hard, waiting for a little bit of lube and the nice hand-stroking it expected.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying but Marcel seemed to be doing most of the talking. Nearly all the talking, in fact. Taz blinked and blinked again. He seemed disoriented. Marcel kept talking, and Taz kept blinking, only each time his eyelids were less and less open. Shit, Marcel’s trying to hypnotize Taz again, I thought, which made my dick really stand up and notice.

Remember that other thing I said I bought at the New Age novelty shop along with the crystal? The thing I said I’d tell you about later? Well, guess what: it’s later.

I reached into my pack and pulled out the little palm-sized canister. It was one of those anti-rape air horn things—you know the type: You get in some trouble, and you push the top of the can, and it makes this really loud blaring noise to scare off your attacker and summon help. I pointed it toward the ceiling, covered my ears as best I could with my free hand and opposite shoulder, and pressed. It let out a BLAAART!—so deafening I nearly dropped it too.

When I peeked back at the showers, Marcel and Taz were holding their ears. Marcel was yelling at the door about what fuck-heads Junior and Peter were. He thought they were responsible? Whew!—he didn’t suspect me.

Taz shook his head and said something about needing to get to class. He cranked off his shower, grabbed his shorts and towel, and disappeared toward the door. Marcel just stood under the spray, chagrined, watching him go.

Marcel shut off his shower, dried himself, stepped back into his maroon shorts, and walked over to the sink where he’d left his toiletry stuff. He smeared shaving cream across his jaw and began to shave.

I sat there with my boner practically vibrating with a need to be touched. Would Marcel ever hurry the fuck up and leave so I could jack off? I risked giving my cock a couple of slow, silent strokes, just to keep the interest level high, while I peeked at Marcel’s nearly naked body. Yum!

“Hi, sir,” Marcel said, looking in the mirror at somebody coming into the bathroom. Who would Marcel call sir?

Professor Johnson walked up behind Marcel. Marcel bent and rinsed his face and straightened, still looking at the Professor in the mirror.

“Look into my eyes,” the Professor said, a voice of quiet authority. “That’s it. Sleep, Marcel. Sleep.” The Professor slipped closer, until his body was against Marcel’s back. He slid a hand around to stroke his fingertips in a lazy circle over Marcel’s taut stomach. “So easy. Just sleep. Sleep.”

Marcel’s eyes closed. “Yes, sir.” He swayed slightly against the Professor.

The Professor pulled at the front of Marcel’s maroon shorts and soon had Marcel’s hard-on standing free. It was hard and thick, hovering at a forty-five degree angle over the sink. The Professor’s hand wrapped around Marcel’s cock and began to stroke.

“Where is Taz?” the Professor asked. “You did not accomplish your job, did you?

“No, sir.”

“Why not?”

“Peter and Junior ... interruption ... air horn ... interrupted ...”

“Peter and Junior were with me. Whatever the interruption was, I don’t think they were responsible. But no matter. Skip Taz for a while. Go to the next name on your list, and that is your new objective. How long has it been since you were allowed to cum, Marcel?”

“Ten days ... sir ...”

“It’ll feel so good to cum when you finally accomplish all of your jobs, won’t it.”

“Yes, sir,” Marcel sighed.

“You won’t fail again. You only have a few more jobs to accomplish before you can cum. You’ll accomplish the next one very soon, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir. Soon ...”

“Good. Now, let your erection soften. Let it soften and fade, and let yourself slowly wake up.”

The Professor slipped his hand away from Marcel’s rod, and he stepped back, and he was gone.

Marcel’s dick softened and sagged. He took a deep breath and his eyes opened. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked down at his shorts. He tucked his half-hard cock away, closed his fly, grabbed his stuff, and left.

Finally, I had some privacy. I drizzled a few drops of lube on my cock. Images flashed through my head as I stroked: Peter and Junior naked, Taz naked and nearly hypnotized, Marcel naked, Marcel hypnotized, Marcel’s erection. Fucking hot! I came in less than thirty seconds! Shot myself a big load too!


I roused up when somebody sat down on the edge of my bed. I’d been asleep on my stomach, so it was kinda hard to turn my head to peer at whoever this was in the dark. Jake said, “That’s right. Sleep. No need to wake up. Just sleep. Deeply asleep.”

I muttered, “Jake, what the fuck ...” I tried to turn over—hard to do since he was sitting on the sheet.

“Shh.” He pressed his hand on my bare shoulder blade, a comforting weight, to keep me from rolling over. “Just sleep. So easy to just close your sleepy, sleepy eyes and go back to sleep. You know you want to. Sleep.”

“Seriously, Jake, you need to go get in your own bed, man. What the fuck are you doing?” But I knew exactly what he was trying to do. Man, if they could hit me when I was trying to get some shut-eye, sooner or later I wouldn’t wake up in time and they’d get me.

I managed to roll over on my back anyway and pulled myself so I was sitting up. Time for the Voice Of Authority. “No, you listen, Jake. You may think you’re hypnotizing me or giving me a pep talk or whatever, but you’re really hypnotizing yourself.”


“It’s true. You tell me I feel sleepy, but you feel it too. You feel sleepy too, don’t you, Jake?”

He didn’t say anything. I reached for the crystal on the little table beside my bed and held it up in the semi-darkness. “It’s okay. It’s okay to feel sleepy. It’s okay to sleep. Sleep, Jake.”

Soon, I had Jake’s eyes closed again. I fumbled with the boxer shorts I sleep in, fumbled my happy hard-on out into the night, then guided Jake’s mouth to it. After all, my hard-on needed a blowjob, and he needed the practice.

“Go slow,” I told him. “Watch your teeth.”

Jake worked his lips up and down my pole. I loved seeing my cock disappear between those pretty lips. Watching him made me want to cum then and there, and I wanted to blast my load down his throat. I intended to do exactly that.

Jake had trouble taking in my entire length. My dick is only average thickness, compared to the other guys I’ve seen hard, but it’s about seven and a half inches long. Jake just about couldn’t handle that last inch or so. Hypnotized like this, he wanted it badly though and sucked on my cock like a nursing calf. When he finally managed that last inch, he nuzzled his nose in my pubes and I patted the top of his head and sighed my approval.

I let Jake nurse on my tool. He was starting to get the hang of blowing me. I loved watching him go at it. I loved that I could control him. He was beautiful, and he was mine. I ran my hands over his muscular shoulders. When he’d been sucking only a few minutes, my dickhead and balls started that familiar buzz. I moaned and fucked my cock at Jake’s mouth a time or two, which nearly made him gag. I pushed my dick all the way in between his lips. I started to cum. I planted my seed in his throat, claiming him for my own. My hard cock pumped out spurt after spurt of jizz, filling Jake’s sweet mouth. My eyes rolled back in my head as I shot my man-juice deep within him. It was so intense!

When I came down from my orgasm, I realized I had a problem. Jake had nearly gotten me while I was asleep. If I hadn’t woke up, he would have gotten me! I had to sleep sometime, but if they could make another try any time they wanted, they’d get me sooner or later. It was inevitable. Maybe I wanted to experience being hypnotized too, but I didn’t want to make it so simple for them. I wouldn’t have a problem yielding to it but only after they worked for it. After all, stories need something called a plot, people. Try to keep up.

I needed someplace else to sleep, someplace safe, someplace they’d never think to look for me. I pulled my sheet off the bed and grabbed my pillow.

The attic wasn’t used much, except for storage and for roof access when we wanted to sunbathe out on the shingles and shit like that. In the back there was this little forgotten alcove that Jake and I had found months ago when we’d been sent up in the attic searching for something. In front of it was all this furniture that hadn’t been touched in years. I moved a couple of things to block the path as I went. I might be barricading myself in, but at least I’d have plenty of warning if somebody came up there looking for me. They wouldn’t catch me asleep. Hey, just because I knew they’d get me eventually didn’t mean I was going to make it easy!

I pulled the protective plastic sheet off an old couch in the alcove. It smelled musty and dusty, but it would do. I bedded down there for the rest of the night.

Oh, and I slept pretty well, all things considered, if you want to know. Thanks for asking.


Every good trickster needs a sidekick or a foil. Someone who helps the audience figure out what’s going on in the story.

I ran into Taz. “Hey, can I talk to you a minute? In private?”


Taz wasn’t really a close friend, but I knew him well enough and considered him a friend, in spite of all the shit he put me through during rush the year before. He wasn’t that smart, not by a long shot, but I thought he was my best shot at an ally who could help me figure this out—or at least help me interrupt the agenda. What I didn’t know exactly was how to describe what was going on and how to get Taz on my side. I planned to figure that part out as I went along. I pulled Taz into a side room.

“What’s up, study-boy?” he asked. “You still got blue balls from playing online Scrabble games instead of getting laid?”

I decided to ignore his comment—protesting that I did not play Scrabble would just encourage him to make more comments. Taz knew I was studying hard to get my grades up, and he knew I’d still been a virgin—and he never missed a chance to rib me about both. What he didn’t know was that I’d lost that virginity burden the day before with my anonymous teammate. I wasn’t about to enlighten him about that fact either.

Taz continued, “You need some help brushing up on your seven-letter Scrabble words? Here’s a few for you. Sexless. Flaccid. Drydick. Shall I go on?”

Did I say Taz was a “friend”? Maybe I should have reconsidered. At the time, though, this Neanderthal was the only potential ally I had, and I decided to ignore his taunt. “Listen, you may have noticed there’s something going on around here ...?”

“Well, yeah. It’s called ‘rush.’ Maybe you’ve heard of it? Oh, yeah—you have—you went through it last year. I’m pledgemaster. It’s my job to make sure there’s always something going on around here. Are we done here?—‘Cause I got a bunch of pledges using power tools to build some shelves in the basement, and I need to go make sure they don’t hammer off an arm or stick a screwdriver in someone’s eye or something.”

“I’m not talking about rush. Coach Cox and Professor Johnson ...” How to bring this up?”

“Our advisors,” Taz prompted me, scowling. “I’ve met them.”

“Can it with the snide comments a minute, please? This is serious. I think they have a secret agenda going on. They’re hypnotizing the swim team and some of the frat brothers like Marcel and Peter and Junior, and they’re making them hypnotize the other frat brothers.”

Taz stared at me like I was crazy.

I decided to head that thought off. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but it’s not”—which I realized too late was exactly what a crazy person would say.

“How much of those drugs have you been smoking?”

“Listen—I’m serious here. I’ve seen them doing it. Marcel even tried to hypnotize you in the showers yesterday, until I blew my air horn and interrupted.”

Taz narrowed his eyes at me. “So that was you? Marcel thought it was that fucker Junior or Peter.”

“Look, I know what they’re doing. I just don’t know why. I thought maybe you could help me?”

“Help you what? Figure out why you’ve chosen right now to take this little vacation from sanity?”

“Taz, listen—I’m serious here.”

“Wah-wah-wah,” he mocked. “Listen, freak show, you know what this is?” He held up his index finger and thumb an inch apart.

My turn to scowl. “Let me guess: The size of my dick?”

“No—it’s the amount of sense you’re making ... And also the length of your dick. They just happen to be equal in this case. Doesn’t happen often, but it’s pretty cool when this shit lines up, like an eclipse or something. Go to the Counseling Center if you need a therapist, and stop bothering me.” Taz walked out.

Okay. That didn’t go like I planned. Obviously I was going to have to be one of those sidekick-less solo tricksters.

So it was back to the drawing board for me. I don’t think I’m anybody special. That’s probably why the Professor didn’t put me at the top of his target list. That’s why I had free run as long as I did. The Professor had bigger catches to land.

Maybe the best way to disrupt what they were doing would be to take charge of the agenda. I wasn’t really on their radar so they wouldn’t be expecting me to be a threat. I’d nailed my roommate Jake. I’d nailed Coach Cox. Who was next? If the Professor had bigger targets than me, well, I needed to make a big score too.

Marcel was the fraternity alpha dog. He was as take-charge as Coach and probably had more influence over the frat brothers than the Professor did. I decided taking him down was my goal. At the very least, I could probably pry details about the Professor’s plans out of him. Plus, it’d be one hell of a kick to take Marcel down and have him following my orders!

My balls felt so full and hair-trigger, I could barely see straight. Marcel came back to the frat house around nine o’clock and headed directly to his room. I followed. I was fully dressed, of course—otherwise my hard-on would have been leading the way; that’s how charged-up I was just from thinking about my plan.

I passed Jake on the stairs and basically said, “Hi—gotta go—catch ya later,” as I zipped past him.

I caught up with Marcel in his room. He was alone. Good.

I knocked on the door frame. “Hi. Can I talk to you? Privately?” I didn’t wait for permission; I came on in and shut the door behind me, making covertly sure it was locked.

“What’s up? Professor Johnson’s been looking for you,” Marcel said, all friendly smiles and extroverted eagerness.

“I need you to do something for me, please,” I said as I fished in the neckline of my shirt for the cord and crystal. I held it up in the aid. “I need you to focus, Marcel. Focus on my voice.”

He stood up from his desk and frowned at the crystal. “Is that ...? Where did you get that?”

I ignored his question and started right in on it in my best Voice Of Authority: “Focus on the crystal. Focus on my voice. You remember how good it feels to focus on the crystal. Look into it.”

“Nice try, but that’s not—”

“Listen to me. Look deeply into the crystal. You’re feeling that familiar focused feeling, growing stronger.” I came around the bed, closer to him. “Focus on the crystal and that drowsy feeling, heavy and light at the same time, growing stronger, spreading through you. Focus on the crystal. Focus on it. That’s it. Focus.”

Suddenly Marcel grabbed my upheld wrist and yanked me to him. I sputtered, “Wha—” He spun me around and my body slammed into his, and his arms bear-hugged me tight, my back to his chest. “Lemme go!” I struggled, but he was plenty strong and he had his arms locked tightly around me. We both wore tee-shirts and shorts. Our bare legs tangled and we stumbled and fell over, torsos landing on the bed, legs hanging off. Marcel took most of fall but managed to keep his grip clamped around me. I yelled, “Let go!” Fuck, he was strong! He rolled, using his weight to help pin me down.

“Shhh,” he hushed, lips brushing the back of my ear. “Let me explain to you how it works. You don’t need a crystal to hypnotize someone.”

“I know that—”

“All you need is to pay close attention to what you’re feeling.”

“Let me go, man!”

“No, we’re going to lie here just a minute. Just like this. Be still. Shhh. That’s it. Settle down. See? Don’t you feel different already? Just relax.”

“Marcel, seriously—let me go.”

“No, I’m not going to. Listen to your heartbeat. Can you feel it? Take a deep breath. What about your neck? Soon you’ll feel the first little muscles in your neck relax. A relaxed, pleasant heavy feeling moving down your neck. Feel it?”

“Fuck no—”

“I think maybe you do. Don’t be afraid of it. As you focus, that drowsy, heavy feeling will move into your shoulders as you continue to focus and listen to my voice. That’s it. Let your arms relax. Let them go loose and limp. Don’t worry. Let your arms fill with the deeply relaxed, deeply pleasant feeling spreading through you. Feel it spreading down into your chest and lungs as you breathe in ... and out ... Yes. That’s it. Don’t resist. You might resist if you wanted, but it feels better when you just let it happen. Resisting tires you out faster, then that heavy, pleasant, drowsy, oh-so-drowsiness spreads even faster. So focused. So drowsy. Without thinking about it, you will soon enter a deep, peaceful hypnotic trance, with no effort, no resistance. Just relax and let it happen, as automatic as dreaming. You know how pleasant it feels to fall asleep and dream, and how easily you can forget your dreams when you awaken. Yes, that’s it. You are responding very well. Without noticing, you are breathing much more easily and freely, and I see you are drifting into a hypnotic trance. Yes. You can enjoy relaxing more and more. Your subconscious mind is focused and listening to every word I say, so it’s less important for you to consciously listen to my voice. Drifting now. Letting go completely. At your own pace. Just as soon as you are ready.”

Someone knocked on the door. “Hey, Marcel?”

I snapped awake. Fuck!—He nearly got me!

“Uh, what’re you guys doing? Am I interrupting?”

I jerked away from Marcel and stumbled off the bed, shoved by the visitor, and out the door, hoping nobody saw the erection in my shorts, but I managed to get out of there.

Another minute and I’d have been gone. Fuck, fuck, fuck—that was close!


Jake didn’t want to talk about how Professor Johnson and the hypnosis. I tried to bring it up by asking how the Professor hypnotized him the first time. He brushed it off and looked at me as if I was crazy, so I dropped it. Maybe I still wasn’t completely comfortable talking about hypnosis, especially since it seemed to lead to gay sex acts. We’d probably discuss what was going on later, I guessed.

At swim practice on Monday, I tried hard not to stare at Jake. I still couldn’t believe he had sucked me and jacked me off like that. Sure, he still sucked at sucking—I mean, easily the worst blowjobs I’d gotten back during rush and stuff—but I was massively turned-on by the thought of ordering him around and making him do stuff. Maybe he’d get better with more experience. He was already getting better with practice. Or maybe he’d let me fuck his ass. I was newly fascinated by his ass in his snug swimsuit, though I’d seen it a thousand times before. I had to make myself not stare.

When practice ended and we poured into the locker room, I was hoping for a repeat of last week’s shower fun, but Coach had other plans. “You and you,” he barked, pointing at Jake and me. “My office. Right fucking now.”

Okay. No time to get out of our swimsuits. We followed him into his office, and Jake closed the door.

“Have a seat,” Coach said. He sat on the corner of his desk. Jake and I sat in the two cheap-ass chairs in front of his desk, the kind whose sole purpose is to be “functional” and keep your ass off the floor, rather than be comfortable.

“So,” Coach said to me, “I hear you’ve been avoiding Professor Johnson. He’s not happy. We both want you on the same training regimen that’s worked so well for Jake here and the rest of the team. You do want to be part of this team, don’t you?”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “Yeah. But you know, Coach, I think you like it better when I do the training, right?”

He fingered that purple crystal pendant he wore and regarded me for a minute. Then he lifted it away from his chest and into the light. “I’m in charge here. What I say goes, and we’re doing it my way.”

I looked him right in the eye and gave him my best Voice Of Authority. “Are you really in charge, Coach? You know you like it when Professor Johnson takes charge. You liked it the other day when I took charge too. I bet you want me to take charge again. Just for a little while. No one has to know. It’ll be our secret.”

My voice fell into a commanding drone. “See? You do like it. Our little secret. Just listen to my voice. You too, Jake. It’s easy. So easy.”

Jake was kind of slouched down in his chair a little but watching me skeptically, listening.

“That’s it. Just listen. No need to think. You’re tired and it feels good if you just relax and feel that heavy sleepiness spreading through you. Drowsy. Sleepy. Already so ready for a relaxing hypnotic trance. Already relaxing down. Listening. Focusing. No distractions. Relaxing. Breathing deeply, slowly. Beginning now to drift into a relaxing hypnotic trance. So pleasant. So sleepy. So relaxed and sleepy. So ready to follow my easy instructions as you just relax and listen to my voice.”

Fuck, this was a rush! Jake’s eyes closed. Coach’s eyelids drooped and finally closed too.

Coach took off his shirt. Jake lifted his ass off the chair a little and pushed his swimsuit down, but his legs seemed too limp to kick it off over his feet, so he settled back down in the chair and just relaxed. No problem. Coach slipped down his shorts and jockstrap. My dick was fiercely hard, and I didn’t mind that it showed in my swimsuit—hey, their eyes were closed, right? Jake’s prick was already hard. His hands around the base had it pointed straight up in the air, waggling around a little. Coach’s cock kept on stiffening. I pulled mine out of my swimsuit and held it the same way Jake held his. Our cocks were a good match, approximately the same length and girth. Jake’s cock head was maybe a little thicker. Coach’s shaft was much thicker than ours, but not as long.

Jake stroked his cock. Coach stroked his cock. I stroked mine. It felt good, and I wanted to push things a little further. But Jake spasmed and came too quickly. Fuck! Okay, there was always Plan B.

Jake on his knees worshipped Coach’s cock and balls with his tongue, just like the other day. “That sure feels good, don’t it, Coach?” I said. Coach made this happy moaning sound. “So, while you’re enjoying that nice, relaxing blowjob, why don’t you tell me what Professor Johnson has planned for me.”


So that’s pretty much that. Yeah, I know—you’re like, Wait—he hasn’t told us why ... I promised you some closure, and you’re thinking I’ve left everything dangling. Who’s the narrator here, again? That’s right—it’s me. I said I was going to tell you my story, and that’s exactly what I did. Before you start bitching about bad narration again, I’ll get to that closure thing in a moment and tie up most of the plot threads.

Don’t worry—I saw the last Lord of the Rings movie; I’m not gonna have this story end, like, seventeen times. There are, though, two final scenes for your viewing pleasure.

For the first scene we’ll start with that same Monday afternoon. I was walking down the hallway, and I passed by Taz’s room. Marcel and Junior were in there too. Taz sat on his narrow bed with his back to the headboard. Marcel sat at the foot of the bed, and Junior stood at the door, like he was practically standing guard. At first though, Junior was distracted and didn’t see me. I backed up and watched.

Taz wore only his briefs. Marcel was in his boxer shorts too and his baseball cap. Taz had the front of his briefs pushed down and tucked up under his balls, which pushed his very large woody and balls up and made them seem even more enormous. Marcel had his boxers open, his cock out through the fly. Marcel stroked himself. Taz stroked himself too.

Marcel was droning on about something—I heard his voice but didn’t make out the words. Taz’s head nodded forward, eyes closing. His head and eyes jerked up and open, only to droop and nod again. Obviously Marcel hypno-seducing Taz. Taz was falling asleep but fighting it, fighting it, but still falling asleep. Fighting, then losing, fighting, losing.

I didn’t have that air horn with me. I could go over there and rap on the door, really loud, and wake Taz and fuck with their plans—which made me grin. Taz and I weren’t really allies, but as long as Taz wasn’t under their spell, I wasn’t alone in this. A couple of really loud knocks on the door would snap Taz out of it.

But before I could, two things happened.

First thing: Marcel leaned in and his hand touched Taz’s hard-on. Taz’s hand fell away, limp against his thigh. Marcel stroked. I was fascinated by the sight—Taz’s enormous erection, and Marcel’s slow, firm strokes. They’d done the circle-jerk part before, I decided, which was why Taz wasn’t fighting the hypnosis anymore. I thought, Is everybody in this frat having circle jerks but me?

Taz’s eyes were closed now and weren’t reopening. After that tenth slow, confident stoke, Taz gasped and his cum erupted from the tip of his erection. That’s how I knew Taz had lost—it’s hormonal—after a guy cums, he feels sleepy and relaxed and docile, and Marcel was going to use that as he finished hypnotizing Taz.

It wasn’t too late—I could still interrupt them and Taz would snap out of it. Marcel hadn’t done anything more than get Taz into a trance; he hadn’t gotten his hooks into Taz yet.

Second thing: Junior saw me watching. He scowled and stepped out into hallway, pulling the door quietly closed behind him, and scowled at me. With his arms crossed over his chest like that, he made it clear he’d probably beat the shit out of me or something if I tried to interrupt. I decided I better back the fuck up and get out of there.

Sorry, Taz. I wouldn’t be coming to your rescue this time.

Now, for the second scene, let’s jump to that evening. I was hanging out in the great room on the main floor of the frat house. Based on what Coach told me, I was safe for the rest of the day—no chance of running into Professor Johnson. He wasn’t going to make another attempt to hypnotize me until at least tomorrow.

About half the guys were around somewhere, and the rest were off at late classes, part-time jobs, dates, or whatever the fuck they were up to, the usual shit. Still, nobody was in the great room but me. I was parked on one of the couches and reading through my chemistry notes for that big midterm the next day, because I just can’t study at the library—too quiet—or in my room.

Marcel walked by and said hey, and I warily said hey back. Next thing I know, Marcel’s sitting next to me on the couch, and I mean with his arm and shoulder pressed firmly up against mine. “Whatcha doing?” he asked.

“Studying,” I said, tensing up because of that happened last time with him.

He made a face. “Yuck. That’s no fun.”

“Fun has to wait. I have a killer midterm tomorrow. I’ve still got a bunch of shit to get though.”

His hand cuffed my thigh. “You sure? I think the studying can wait a little while. There’s always time for a little fun.” He turned my books on the table where he could see the titles. “Wow ... Chemistry, physics, and history. I guess my only question is: how have you not been blowjobbed to death by the entire cheering squad?” He grin-smirked.

I scowled.

He leaned in, undeterred, and whispered, “I can fix that, you know.”

My cock gave a definite twitch, definitely interested.

I thought, What’s going on here? I looked over at Marcel, which was easy to do with his face inches from mine. I was pretty sure he was trying to provoke a reaction out of me because he was always doing that alpha dog button-pushing shit to see if he could get a response. I was determined to play it cool. He wore a date-quality tee-shirt and shorts, a backward baseball cap. He nudged his knee against mine, and his hand gave my thigh a squeeze. It could’ve been just friendly, but it felt like something more, something linger-y.

I said to him, “Uh, dude, do you need to go jack off or something?”

“Wanna come watch?” His wolf-grin moved closer like he was about to kiss me. “Again? Or do you wanna join in this time?”

Playing it cool or not, this was just a little too uncomfortable and button-pushy for me, and I had to pull away as best I could, leaning toward the opposite end of the couch. “Sorry, Marcel—” I couldn’t stop myself from blushing, which was the worst part. It was the same as a confession.

He leaned in closer again. I pulled away. Was he fucking with me? Why was he doing this? “What are you doing?” I warned.

He ran his hand over my chest. “Nice,” he purred. My dick certainly stood up and took notice.

His knuckle brushed my nipple through my tee-shirt. “Coach Cox and Kyle told us what you like.”

His breath warmed my neck. “You like blowjobs, and you like being in charge.”

His fingertips teased down my fluttering stomach. Barely a whisper in my ear: “Sometimes letting go can be fun too.”

What the fuck was he doing, and why the hell was he teasing me like this? If he was trying to seduce me, he sure had my cock hard enough already to burst out of my shorts.

His nose brushed my cheek. “You know you want this, and you know it’s going to happen. Stop making a big deal out of it. Just let it happen.”

His body heat flooded me across the narrow space separating us. If I’d turned my head a little, we could have kissed. I knew Marcel wasn’t doing this because he wanted to. He was only doing it because my name had risen to the top of his to-do job list. Marcel was just follow orders. This was the first time I felt how pitying someone and wanting to fuck them can get all tangled up in your head. There’s overwhelming sadness, and meanwhile you’ve got a rodney that could hammer nails. Is that sick? Yeah, I think that’s sick.

He pulled back and gave me a wink and his patented leer-grin. “Well, when you change your mind, you know where to find me.” When, the cocky bastard said, not if. And then he was off the couch and strolling down the hall that led to the stairs to his room, humming a little tune as he went.

I tried to study. I really did. I tried to read. I tried to make the sentences make sense in my head. I tried to make sense of my notes. I tried for at least five or six minutes. But all I could think of was Marcel up there jacking off—that and his invitation. I knew it was a mistake to act interested, and an even bigger mistake to let him know how my cock had twitched when he squeezed my thigh. Fuck, if he said anything to the other guys ...! Nope, there was no way in hell I was taking him up on his invitation.

But—crap!—now I was so horny I couldn’t concentrate worth shit on chemistry. I kept at it for at least another ten minutes, though it felt like a hundred times as long, and the words just kept going blah-blah-blah in my head without making any sense at all.

Okay, it was close to time to get some sleep. I gathered up my stuff and headed upstairs.

My room was on the third floor. I should have gone all the way up. Or I should have gone all the way up to my little attic hideaway. But I stopped on the second floor instead. Marcel’s floor. I had absolutely no reason to be there that time of night, but there I was.

I was just going to walk by Marcel’s door. Yeah, that was it. Just walk by. Chances are, either his door would be closed, or if it was open he’d be doing something mundane. Jacking off with his door open, like that hallway circle-jerk I’d spied on the other night? Highly unlikely. Yeah.

His door was open halfway. Inside, there’s Peter and Junior. No Marcel—not that I could see—but I could see plenty of what was going on with Junior and Peter. Junior had on a white wife-beater, just like the other night when I’d spied on their hallway circle jerk, but he was naked from the waist down. And Peter?—he was just plain naked. They were standing up, Peter leaning back against the far wall, and Junior leaning in kissing and licking at Peter’s neck, and they both had hard-as-hell cocks, sticking nearly straight up. My jaw dropped. I was staring, but who the hell cared? There was no one else in the hallway to catch me, and they left the door open like that, like they wanted somebody to catch them. Maybe they weren’t having sex yet, but they were definitely well into their little stroll down Foreplay Road.

Suddenly the floor creaked behind me, and suddenly there was an arm around my waist and I was rushed through the door and into their room. “Look who I caught enjoying the show, guys,” Marcel said. He’d shed his shirt, shorts, and shoes, but he still wore his ever-present baseball cap and a pair of boxers.

“Uh—wuh—wait,” I stammered, “it’s not what it looks like”—even though it was and I was so busted. I had no idea what to say next. Marcel hauled me over to Junior and Peter. They grinned and didn’t seem surprised in the slightest.

“It’s about time you joined in,” Marcel chuckled. “I was about to think you’d never take the hint.”

“It’s not like—”

“It’s exactly like.” And then Marcel kissed at my neck—aw, fuck, that sure felt nice—and Junior and Peter were surrounding me too.

I said, “Guys, what the fuck?” They pushed my back against the wall and they were all over me. Junior’s shirt went flying this way, and Marcel’s boxers and baseball cap went flying that way, which meant all three of them were naked now, which made my dick jump. Junior and Peter pressed up against me, their hard-ons rubbing my arm and my hip as they kissed and licked at me. I had to stop myself from reaching for their dicks. I turned my face away from their kisses, but I couldn’t push any of them away, not for long anyway before they came right back. Two of the pressing mass of bodies had my arms pinned back against the wall. Someone else fumbled with my tee-shirt, pushed it up on my stomach, and then went after my pants. Soon I was feeling cool air and warm skin brushing across my hard dick. Fuck it—with naked bodies rubbing up against someone like this, what guy wouldn’t pop a boner?

“You really need to loosen up some, buddy,” someone said. My roommate Jake. He stood in the doorway, Professor Johnson right behind him. The Professor had his hand on Jake’s bare shoulder, and was probably responsible for the glazed look in Jake’s eyes and the blissed-out smile. Fuck!—The Professor must have known I was hypnotizing Coach Cox and fed him false information to trap me!

“We got him, Professor,” Junior declared happily, “just like you asked. We accomplished our job.”

“So you did. Very well, boys, you may cum—after he does. Jake, why don’t you do the honors,” the Professor said.

“Sure thing, Professor.” Jake grinned. Shirtless, he took two steps toward us, pushed off his sweatpants, commando, and dove naked into the squirming mess of arms and shoulders and skin crushed up against me.

Professor Johnson said, “Yes, relaxing sounds like a good idea, doesn’t it. We should all help him relax.” He held up that purple crystal on a gold chain, holding it in the air where I could see it over somebody’s head. “Focus. Relax. Don’t fight it—don’t fight me. Let’s work together. I want what you want. We can work together to make it happen. Relax and focus.”

But who could focus with all this going on? My frat brothers were grinning, giggling, having themselves a lot of fun. I felt something warm and wet on my hard-on, a tongue, and then a mouth engulfed the head. Three of them kept me pinned against the wall, writhing and kissing and licking, while the fourth sucked my cock.

Process of elimination. Junior’s head was licking at my left nipple. Peter’s was in front, blocking most of my view as he nibbled at my neck and purred happily alongside my ear. Marcel’s hair appeared and disappeared to my right. That meant the sucking mouth belonged to ... my roommate Jake. Jake was sucking my cock. And finally he was doing a pretty decent job at it! No teeth this time. It sure felt good. I groaned my appreciation.

Maybe Professor Johnson was still talking, but who was paying attention? Certainly not me. I was getting my nipples licked, which felt good and ticklish at the same time, and it made me giggle along with the guys. I was getting my neck and ears kissed, and various things were happening to all the various other body parts that somebody managed to reach, and in the center of this constellation of sparkly sensations was the feeling of Jake’s mouth licking around my cock head, his one hand around my dick shaft, and his other hand tugging gently at my sensitive ball sack. I sighed contentedly and surrendered to what they were doing to me.

“I’m gonna cum,” I whispered just before Peter tried to kiss me again, and this time I let him. His tongue invaded my mouth and tasted like spearmint, and mine chased after his, kissing back as intensely as he kissed me. I felt my climax building. Jake’s hand slid from my ball sack to my ass, and his finger thrummed back and forth over my butthole. My head got all tangled up in wondering whether Jake was gonna stick his finger in my unexplored hole and whether I’d like it. Just the thought—

My body tensed and tightened as they kept me pressed against the wall. My cock burned with that familiar fire, and my balls pump-pump-pumped out my load. I felt it overflow Jake’s mouth and coat his fingers, and the slickening sensation fired up my orgasm even more.

“Fuck! Holy fuck ...” I groaned happily, sagging back against the wall, spent and happy. I’d worry about the consequences later. Right then, my whole world was the happy warm limpness weighing down my arms and my legs, the comfortable heat of my friends’ muscular bodies pressed against mine, and that contently spent feeling I was enjoying in my cock and balls. I moaned my appreciation and shuddered through a final orgasm aftershock. Peter chuckled and kissed me again, and again I let him. Consequences later.

Peter had one arm holding me against the wall, and his free shoulder and arm moved—he was jacking off, fast and furious. Marcel and Junior were too—even Jake, between my legs and nuzzling my balls, was vibrating as he pumped at his erection.

“Gonna cum!” Marcel panted.

“Me too,” Junior growled.

“Fuck, yeah!” Peter gasped.

Jake moaned into my ball sack.

“Cumming!” Marcel choked out. He pushed his hips forward and I felt his cockhead smack my hip over and over as he flogged his rod, then wet heat on my skin as he squirted his load on me.

Junior: “Here it comes! Here it—Ahhh!—Fuck!” His face twisted, mouth open. I felt his cum hit my arm and ribs.

Between my legs, Jake groaned and unleashed his cum against my leg.

“Move,” Peter gasped, pushing Marcel aside. “Lemme in there. Fuck!—Oh, man!—Fuhh!—uhh!” His cock fired his spunk against my stomach.

All of them collapsed, happy and grinning, against me, smearing their cum into my skin—which I decided felt totally sexy, instead of gross.

Somebody cleared his throat: ”Ahem!

Junior and Peter turned their heads to look at Professor Johnson, which meant I could see the Professor again around Peter’s head. The slough of body parts surrounding me still had me pinned to the wall, but the press of flesh felt comforting in my afterglow. I now understood the attraction of cuddling. I needed a nap after that strong climax. I was kind of glad they were holding me there, because I’m not sure I could have stood up on my own. That’s how strong my orgasm was.

“You’ll have to forgive them,” Professor Johnson growled to me, clearly irritated. “I enlisted the boys to help ‘recruit’ you and a few others, and I suggested they would have to wait to ejaculate until they got you secured and ready. They’ve been feeling understandably ... pent up these last few days, especially since you decided to disrupt my timetable. I’m willing to overlook your recent interference. Coach Cox tells me you’ve got the beginnings of a good technique. If you behave and cooperate, perhaps I’ll help you refine it.”

“Hit me with your best shot, Professor. Hey, I’ve got a chemistry midterm tomorrow—how about improving my study skills while you’re at it?” I teased, still grinning stupidly after my orgasm. Truth is, I was curious about being hypnotized. How would it feel? What would it be like to know I was following someone else’s orders? Hypnotizing Jake and Coach Cox had been fun. I knew I’d do what the Professor said if it meant I got to take charge and hypnotize some guys too sometimes, like Marcel.

The Professor didn’t know that, though, not yet. “Defiant to the end, eh? If you hadn’t skipped the special practice meetings, you’d already be seeing an improvement in your study abilities like the rest of the swim team. Isn’t that right, Jake?”

“Yessir, Professor,” Jake sighed happily from somewhere in the mass of flesh against my legs.

“Now, if you’re quite comfortable, perhaps we can get on with the program.”

I needed sleep. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold out long. Beside me, Marcel made a purring little hum—a contented sound—in my ear and nibbled at my neck.

The Professor spoke in a firm tone, like my Voice Of Authority but smoother, a voice that just made you want to listen. “Focus on how relaxed you feel now. Focus on it, and feel it deepen, feel it double, feel it happening. You had a good run, but the time has come to surrender, time to accept what you can’t prevent.”

“Now you’re going to see how it’s really done,” Marcel said and nuzzled my neck.

Okay, I thought to myself, now Professor Johnson is going to hypnotize us—I knew it was gonna happen—it’s cool we’re all going to be hypnotized together.

“Focus on the crystal. Focus on that light, pleasant feeling that fills you as you focus on it, the feeling that starts in the corners of your eyes as you look deeply, so deeply into it, and moves through your cheeks and up into your forehead too. As I continue speaking, as you continue focusing, that feeling grows stronger and stronger. Soon you’ll feel the first slight trickle of that relaxed, pleasant heavy feeling moving down your neck. Then, as you focus, focus so deeply, that drowsy, heavy feeling will move into your shoulders as you continue to focus and listen to my suggestions. Let your arms dangle loose and limp, filling with the deeply relaxed, deeply pleasant feeling that is spreading through you. Feel it spreading now into your chest and lungs as you breathe in ... and out... Drifting now. Letting go completely. Let go when you’re ready. So relaxed now. Let go.”

To my left, Junior sighed and settled against me, eyes closed, head rolling against my shoulder.

“You can continue becoming more relaxed and comfortable as you focus, even if your sleepy eyes close, your drowsy, drowsy eyes, closing, closing.”

From down in front of me where he still knelt, I heard Jake groan quietly, and I felt his weight sink against my leg. Marcel and Peter settled alongside me too. Their bodies against mine felt reassuring and good. I was so fucking tired, so fucking drowsy. I fought to keep my eyes open, just a little longer, not wanting to miss anything—fight it off and enjoy this relaxed lethargy just a little longer. My dick was getting hard again. Keeping my eyes open against the pleasant sleepy feeling was so difficult, too difficult ...

“As you surrender to the deepening comfort, you don’t have to move or talk or let anything distract you. No distractions. You are getting closer to a deep hypnotic trance. Nearly there. Nearly asleep. Yes. It’s inevitable. And you realize now that you don’t care whether you slip into a deep trance. Being hypnotized is always a very pleasant, completely relaxing experience. Deep, peaceful relaxation, deep sleep. Perfect, deep sleep. You will be really happy that you let me hypnotize you. Every time I hypnotize you, it will keep becoming more enjoyable, more of this relaxed pleasure. Getting closer. Let yourself fall asleep now. Falling asleep now. Sleep. Falling. Sleep. Sleep now.”

There was probably more, but that was the point I closed my eyes like the Professor said, let my head lay against Junior’s, and surrendered into sleep.