Disclaimer: All the usual rules apply: If you are under the legal age, offended by the concepts of either erotic hypnotism or male/male sexual activity, unable to distinguish between fiction (which this is) and reality (which this may never be construed to portray), or resident in some wretched community where such materials are forbidden to you regardless of your own preferences, then you do not have permission to read this; please go away. If, on the other hand, you have no legal or philosophical restraints, please enjoy. You have permission to read and/or download this story at any time you wish, provided you do not allow it to be seen by minors, nor re-post it anywhere without the author’s express consent.

Look Into… His Eyes



   Back in the ninth grade, I had to read a short story by Ambrose Bierce called The Hypnotist for an English assignment. It was a sarcastic, deliberately silly story, and it did nothing to stimulate my already developing erotic fascination with the subject of hypnosis, but it did have one line that struck me as a pretty neat turn of phrase. The main character’s eyes were described as being “made rather to look into than to look out of”. It stuck with me when, two years later, my dad remarried bringing a step-brother into our house and my life.

   Joel is everything I’m not: athletic (captain of the tennis team, All-State by before he was a junior, whereas, while I’m in good shape, I’m utterly clue- and talent-less where sports are concerned), handsome (okay, I’m not bad looking either, but Joel’s a God, with that tennis-honed body, wavy golden hair, gorgeous face, killer smile), out-going (I’m so shy I’ve almost mastered invisibility) and popular. And, just like Bierce’s fictional character, his turquoise eyes could just about swallow you whole. The first time Dad introduced us, I was so awestruck by him that I could barely form sentences, and I’m pretty sure he must have thought I was retarded, but in spite of that he actually went out of his way to be nice to me, and we became, if not perhaps quite as close as real brothers by blood, at least good friends. By the time of the marriage, the mental image of every fantasy guy I’d ever thought of, in every masturbation session I’d ever had, had been replaced, as if by right, with the glowing icon of my new step-bro. I was in love (or at least lust) with a capital L. But, in typical dweeb fashion, I’d pretty much resigned myself to fruitless longing until our senior year.

   For a special treat on my eighteenth birthday (which falls in October, just one month after Joel’s), my dad took us all to a hypnotism show at one of the local night spots. Dad, of course, was well aware of my fascination with the subject (although I’d always made damn sure he didn’t know why I was so fascinated!). Since you couldn’t get into the club unless you were 21 or were accompanied by an adult, it was the first time I’d been there or seen such a show live, and I was so excited I almost couldn’t control my cock. But the reality, as it turned out, far exceeded my hopes.

   When Master Mesmero, the hypnotist, called for volunteers, Dad kind of nudged me and grinned, but I said, “No way! I want to see what he does!” Then, his eyebrows raised questioningly, he turned to Joel, who just smiled slightly and shook his head, so we all settled back to watch.

   The induction was pretty much what my reading and the various TV shows I’d seen had led me to expect: eye-fixation, progressive relaxation, sleep suggestions, and then deepeners. The majority of the volunteers went under right on schedule, but a couple of the women and one older guy didn’t, and were sent back to their tables. That left three chairs unoccupied. The hypnotist then addressed the audience, “Some of you, whether you realized it or not, went along with my suggestions as I gave them to our intrepid volunteers. As a result, some of you are now deep in trance, just as they are. Those of you who are not on stage but are in my power will now stand up.” Around the club several people got up. And, at our table, my gorgeous step-brother, his eyes fixed and face blank, rose to his feet!! It’s a good thing that I was wearing dark-colored trousers and that the club was only dimly lit. I had an instant erection so huge and obvious that it would have been unmistakable in any other circumstances. I’m surprised it didn’t tilt the table! Joel’s mom said his name questioningly, sounding more than a little uneasy, but he ignored her as if she didn’t even exist (and for him, at least at that moment, I suppose she didn’t).

   After giving a couple more suggestions to make sure all the hypnotized folk on or off the stage wouldn’t wake up on their own, Master Mesmero stepped off the stage and went to each table where entranced people were standing. After asking them a few questions (which I couldn’t hear), he woke most of them up and they sat back down, looking either amused or startled. One man and woman (a dating couple or a young husband and wife) apparently answered satisfactorily, because they were dispatched to the stage to take two of the empty seats. Another lady was freed from her trance, and then he was at our table.

   “Tell me your name, young man.”

   “Joel.” (At the sound of my hypnotized step-bro’s soft, sleepy little voice, my dick gave another pronounced twitch, and my shorts began to feel sticky.)

   “How old are you, son?”

   “I’m eighteen.”

   “You’re deep in hypnosis, Joel. Would you like to be in my show?”

   Joel didn’t answer right away. Although his face retained its frozen indifference, apparently, somewhere down inside his spellbound mind, he was considering the proposition. Then he nodded mechanically, “Okay,” and at the hypnotist’s further command he joined the rest of the subjects on stage.

   Master Mesmero released the last two people still standing - one young woman (whose date looked very relieved when she was reawakened) and one middle-aged guy - and then returned to the stage to continue his show. From that point on, for me, the whole thing passed as if I were wearing blinkers like a nervous horse. I only had eyes for my entranced step-brother. Anything that didn’t involve him was completely outside my attention. (As a matter of fact, if Joel had gone up on stage in the first place, I’ll bet I’d have ended up right along side him in the show, because he would have fixated my attention in a way nothing else could have, and I’d surely have become one of the inadvertently hypnotized.) Even if he’d just sat there and slept, I wouldn’t have taken my eyes off him, but as it happened, my step-bro was an incredibly good subject and front and center in most of the action. I’d read about so-called “deep trance virtuosos”, but seeing one was something else again. Joel did, without hesitation, whatever the hypnotist told him to, no matter how physically difficult or potentially embarrassing, and he patently believed everything that was suggested to him with an intensity and commitment that were almost scary. By the end of the show he’d been stretched out like a board between the backs of two chairs while Master Mesmero stood on his stomach (without his rigidness yielding so much as an inch!), stood calm and unflinching while the hypnotist ran a flaming cigarette lighter up and down his exposed arms and chest (he’d lost his shirt responding to a suggestion that it was getting terribly hot in the room), and been reduced to fetal-position, full-out-sobbing despair when, after having been told he was gay and passionately in love with the hypnotized young dater/husband from the neighboring table, he was turned down cold by the guy. (The success of this last scenario, as you might guess, started a number of wheels turning in my head, since it was pretty obvious that, if the dude had returned his spellbound affection, in short order Joel would have been picking out china patterns!)

   At the end of the show, all the volunteers were sent back to their seats still in trance and then Master Mesmero woke them back up. Joel’s expression returned to normal, and, after looking at the hypnotist who was still on stage accepting the applause, he said, “When’s he gonna start?” Clearly, he didn’t remember a thing. We all began to talk at once. When he finally got the picture he was astounded. “You’re shitting… sorry, Mom… you’ve got to be kidding! I was hypnotized?! That’s incredible! I don’t even remember him starting the show, let alone hypnotizing anybody. And I sure don’t remember leaving this chair!! Heck, it only feels like a minute since he first came out on stage. He was looking less thunderstruck and more and more intrigued, while I (internally, of course) was doing the happy dance because my delectable step-brother was (a) super-hypnotizable, (b) could, under hypnosis, be made to believe that he loved guys and then forget all about it afterwards, and yet (c) didn’t seem to be totally freaked out by having his memory blanked. For me, the only remaining question wasn’t whether I was going to get him under my hypnotic control, but merely how best to accomplish it, the direct approach or something sneakier.



   For the rest of the evening Joel’s performance in trance was the only topic of conversation, and even after we were back home and our parents had retired for the night he and I (okay mostly I) were still going on about it as we got ready for bed. We each have our own bedrooms, but share a connecting bath and, since Joel doesn’t have any particular body modesty issues (with a bod like that what’s there to be modest about?), we’re often together at bedtime in nothing more than our shorts and t-shirts (and sometimes even less) while brushing our teeth and such.

   “You’re sure you don’t remember anything about going under?” I wheedled for about the tenth time as he finished flossing and rinsed his mouth.

   “No, Kyle,” Joel patiently replied. “It was like I said. I don’t remember a single thing between the time he walked out on stage and the time everybody was clapping and you all said I’d just woken up. It’s like that hour and a half never existed. Weirdest damn thing I’ve ever had happen!”

   “Well, it was sure as hell fascinating to watch!” I was lying of course, since, with my eyes glued to stage at the time, I hadn’t even realized Joel was in the process of being hypnotized and so hadn’t witnessed any of his reactions until they were called to my attention by his standing up, but I thought that this line of conversation might be a way to get things going the direction I wanted them to. According to a number of the books I’d read, Joel’s recent sojourn in la-la land should have left a great subject like him more than usually vulnerable to a disguised induction. I purposely slowed and softened my voice as the hypnotist had done, although not too obviously. “At first you just seemed to be watching the show, like I was, but then, when the Master Mesmero started to tell them all to let their breathing become slow and even, I could see you begin to breathe slowly and evenly… just like that… and I could see you begin to relax all your muscles… and I thought to myself, ‘Joel is going into trancehe’s being hypnotized and he can’t resist…’ can’t resistgoing into trance…” My step-brother had been working some acne cream into his (as far as I could see) perfect complexion, but his motions slowed, then stopped, and he started vacantly into his own mesmerizing eyes in the mirror. I continued more boldly. “That’s right, Joel… just like that… feeling so-o-o peaceful… so relaxed… letting the words take over… nothing exists but my words making you feel so-o-o good… and you just want to let go and allow the words to take you with them… to take you back to that wonderful place where you don’t have to think at all… back to that place where you can hear only the words and do whatever they tell you without thinking… without questioning… without resisting… because it’s the only thing you want to do… the only thing you can do…” I had moved closer and closer until I was almost whispering in his ear. His glazed expression told me he was right where I wanted him, so I suddenly commanded more firmly, “Close your eyes and sleep, Joel.” I caught him in my arms and eased him down to the floor as, like a marionette when the strings are cut, his body went limp. He was out.

   Trying to ignore my cock, which was now so hard it hurt, I continued to establish my control. “Joel, you’re going much deeper into this hypnotic sleep than you did before… much deeper… because that’s how trance works… every time you go deeper and deeper… every word, deeper and deeper… every breath, every beat of your heart, deeper and deeper… And when you are more than a hundred times deeper in trance than you were in Master Mesmero’s show, your right hand will begin to feel very light… very, very light. It will become so light that it will float right up into the air… so light that it will pull your entire body up after it until you’re standing again.” I stood back and watched carefully. At first, Joel just lay there as though passed out. But then… did I imagine it? No… there it was… a little tremor in his right arm. Then his fingers twitched. And then, slowly at first but gradually faster, his hand began to rise from then floor. Soon his arm, appearing as limp as a string trailing after a balloon, had risen until it stood straight upright from his shoulder, and as his hand continued to tug upwards, Joel’s torso began to lift itself from the floor. The muscular control involved was awesome. In effect, he was doing the world’s slowest tummy-crunch, a physical exertion that, without hypnosis, would have had him straining with effort. As it was, he managed it so smoothly that it really did create the illusion that his floating hand had simply dragged him up into a sitting position. Joel continued to unwind himself from the floor (although, of course, he now had to use his legs, which somewhat undercut that effect) until he was standing straight up with his arm stretched over his head, still reaching higher and higher. His eyes were closed, and his face was peaceful and blank as a statue.

    I released Joel’s hand from its upward quest, at the same time reinforcing and reminding him that he was now one hundred times more hypnotized than he had been earlier in the evening, and going deeper still with every passing instant. He gave no more reaction to that than a department store mannequin, but I knew I had him.

    “Bro,” I commanded, “It’s way too hot in here! You need to take off all your clothes.” Without so much as a twitch of resistance, Joel pulled his t-shirt off over his head and then slid his boxers down and stepped out of them. I had seen him naked a number of times before, both here at home (the shared bathroom thing) and in the school locker room (we also shared the malicious indignity of 5th period P.E. with its attendant mandatory showers, as neither his sports stardom nor my total lack of it were held to be grounds for exemption), but on all of those occasions my main concern had been to ignore as much as possible and concentrate on not throwing a boner. This time I relaxed and let nature take its course. Big mistake! Whether it was the ongoing excitement from having had the whole evening play out virtually like an extended version of one of my pet jerking-off fantasies, or the added thrill of seeing how completely he was in my power, or even perhaps simply that only my resolute, desperate self-control had kept it from happening those other times I’d seen him, as soon as Joel dropped his drawers, baring the golden body of my dreams, I came in my pants – no planning it, no stopping it, without even touching myself. Shit! It was a great orgasm, but still… Shit!!

   As I disgustedly cleaned myself up and threw my damp underwear into the laundry hamper, Joel just continued to stand there in all his glory, fast asleep, oblivious, totally, helplessly under my control. Well, I wasn’t giving up yet! While I waited for the little man down under to come back on line, I could use the time profitably by taking care of the hypnotic housekeeping (so to speak).

   “Joel, in the future whenever you hear me say ‘trance time’, you will instantly go into deep, deep hypnosis. You will be completely under my control just as you are now, and every single time you will go even deeper. This will happen no matter whether it’s a minute from now or a year.” I made him repeat the instructions in his deliciously spellbound voice and then continued, “You will never, not now, not ever, in your normal conscious state, remember anything that happens while you are in trance. You will never even be aware that you have been in trance. The time simply won’t exist for you, just the way it didn’t exist for you in the show tonight.” I made him repeat that one too. “But you love the feeling of being hypnotized, even though you aren’t aware of it consciously, don’t you.” It was voiced as a command, not a question, and, with a solemn, sleepy nod, my step-brother accepted it as such. “And because you love it, you’re going to do your best to be regularly available to me at times and in places it’s private enough for me to put you under. You won’t have any idea that that’s why we’re spending so much quality time together, but you’ll be convinced that you’re happiest when we do.” He repeated the last set of instructions.

   By that time my cock was beginning to show renewed signs of life, so I switched back to a more erotic (to me) approach. “Say ‘I’m a hypnotized boy’,” I ordered.

   “I’m a hypnotized boy.”


   “I’m a hypnotized boy.”

   “Again, and keep saying it over and over. You won’t be able to stop no matter how hard you try.”

   “I’m a hypnotized boy. I’m a hypnotized boy. I’m a hypnotized boy…”

   As Joel helplessly chanted the phrase again and again, I continued to talk. “Try to stop saying it… try as hard as you can… as hard as you’ve ever tried to do anything…” I waited a moment to see what would happen.

    “I’m a hypnotized boy. I’m a hypnotized boy…” For all the difference it made, Joel might not have been trying to stop talking at all. He droned on without the slightest hesitation.

   “You’ll keep right on saying it until I tell you to stop, and each repetition makes it twice as true and puts you twice as deeply in my power.” My cock was back to full erection, and I didn’t want to be the only one. “While you repeat the phrase and go deeper and deeper into trance, Bro, I want you to jerk off. Play with your cock and your asshole. You can’t cum unless I say, but it’ll feel great anyway.”

     “I’m a hypnotized boy. I’m a hypnotized boy…” Still mindlessly reciting, and without a hint of hesitation, my gorgeous step-brother began to stroke his dick and finger his butt-crack. In short order, he was erect (and his equipment was impressive) and squirming with passion. However, his mesmerized drone, although it was now colored with little gasps and moans of pleasure, still continued without pause, and, in spite of his obvious arousal, his face remained as unemotionally blank as if he were only asleep rather than spellbound, sexually enslaved, and masturbating his brains out.

   It was all so damned near perfect that I knew I’d never make it into his ass before I lost it again, so I commanded, “Joel, kneel down.” Without missing a stroke or a syllable, he sank to his knees. I walked up close to him, gently tilted his head up. “I’m going to cum in your face, bro, and you’ll cum when I do. From now on, although you won’t realize it consciously, whenever you’re in trance, you’re a gay boy, and you love the taste and smell of cum more than any other flavor or scent.” Without waiting for any sign from him, since it was clear now that he was utterly incapable of resisting my will, I began my own climb to heaven. Even though I just shot a wad not fifteen minutes before, I was on the edge of orgasm within half a dozen strokes. By rigorously thinking about baseball statistics, I was able to stave my climax off a little longer, but even so, far too soon I blasted off into Joel’s innocent upturned face.

   Seconds later, through a mind-boggling post-orgasmic haze, I felt the wet warmth of my step-brother’s load splash across my legs. “I’m a uh… uh…. hyp… uh… hypnotized… uh… uh… UHHH!!!…boy. I’m a hypnotized boy. I’m…” As his orgasm subsided, Joel fell right back into the robot-like rhythm of his chant.

   I looked down into his entranced face, now with his lips and cheeks splotched with gobs of my cum, and felt as happy as I’ve ever felt in my life. He was mine! As often and for as long as I wanted, beautiful, beautiful Joel was mine!!

   I had to see those fabulous eyes! “Joel, at the count of three, without waking up, you’re going to open your eyes. One… two… three.” His eyelids fluttered open.

   I believe I’ve already mentioned how incredible my step-bro’s eyes are. I gazed down into their turquoise-blue depths and was lost. Even dreamier and more compelling than they had ever appeared before, as they stared into some unfathomable distance of his mesmerized universe, they caught me and effortlessly they consumed me, like a stone dropped into deep water. I began to feel very strange, just as I had the one time I’d managed to find an on-line hypnosis site and tried one of their downloadable induction files (it had only been a simple generic stress-relief suggestion, but it had worked just fine on me). As if from a distance, I could hear a voice saying over and over, “I’m a hypnotized boy. I’m a hypnotized boy, I’m…” It was undeniable. I was a hypnotized boy. Of course I was. The eyes, the voice gave me no choice. I couldn’t look away, couldn’t close my ears or my mind. Time slowed. Time stopped.



   I came back to myself awhile later. I would guess that, considering the time it was by the clock, I hadn’t been out more than 15 minutes or so, and that would make sense according to what I knew about trance states when they were left unattended. It was inevitable that, without any actual hypnotic suggestions to keep my mind engaged in the process, I’d have snapped out of it after about that long. Fortunately for me, Joel was still completely entranced, but then he’d had an ongoing task (the mantra he was still vacantly intoning) to keep him busy.

   “I’m a hypnotized boy. I’m a hypnotized…”

   I wrenched my gaze away from his before it could drag me under again and pulled myself together. “Joel, you can stop saying that now. It has become the one truest thing in your entire being.” My step-brother fell silent at last. I cleaned us both off and got us both back into the underwear we’d had on when the whole thing began (of course mine were actually different garments, since the original shorts had gone with my premature ejaculation and the t-shirt had been my clean-up rag, but one set of white t and boxers looks just like another), and then lead my zombified bro back to the bathroom, pulling him along by one warm, limply relaxed hand. I stood him in front of the mirror, staring at his own reflection just as he’d been when I’d begun my sneakily disguised hypnotic monolog, and took my own previous place off to the side.

   “Joel, at the count of three you’re going to wake up. You be all the way back to your normal consciousness, feeling fine and relaxed, and ready for bed. As I commanded, you won’t remember anything about my having hypnotized you. You won’t remember anything about it at all! It will be as though no time has passed.” That was really important, and I was feeling a little paranoid now that the fantasy sex was over and reality was back (after all, my step-bro is the athlete, not me – he could break me into little pieces if he did remember something!), so I made him repeat the instructions a couple of times. However, he did so without a slip or a twitch, so I finally decided it was now or never, and quietly counted him back up.

   “It was like I said. I don’t remember a single thing between the time he walked out on stage and the time everybody was clapping and you all said I’d just woken up. It’s like that hour and a half never existed. Weirdest damn thing I’ve ever had happen!”

   I almost freaked out, but then I realized he was repeating word-for-word his last conscious comment from before I had hypnotized him. He really didn’t have any idea that he’d just spent the last hour or so as my mind-controlled toy (and that in itself freaked me out too, but in a totally different way). Joel gave his face one more look-over in the mirror, screwed the cap back onto the tube of acne cream (which was right where he’d left it when I put my spell on him), wished me good night, and went to his room to bed.

   I went to bed too, but even though, after two shattering orgasms, I was looped on the endorphins, it took me a long time to fall asleep. I kept thinking about Joel’s amazing eyes and how easily they’d pulled me into a trance state even without his having had any conscious intention of doing that (or any conscious intentions at all, for that matter). Could he be trained to do that to others just as easily? After all, my handsome step-brother wasn’t the only good-looking guy we knew. And most of those other studs were friends with him. Three-ways might be a definite possibility. Hmmm….



   “Dude, have you gone on steroids or something?!” Johnny Petrossian lay on his side on the clay, gasping to catch his breath, his coal-black hair damp and mussed, his tennis shirt dark with sweat and clinging to his heaving chest. Joel had just annihilated him in straight sets during their match that afternoon, seeming to be everywhere at once on the court, as though his legs were bionic and running out of breath was only theoretically possible, playing with as much passion as if it were the championships instead of just a friendly post-season practice game.

   “Sorry to tell you, Johnny, but I just whipped your ass totally drug-free.” Joel grinned devilishly, “But I do have a secret weapon.” He began to tell his teammate about how he was using hypnosis to improve his performance. (I’d been using my hypnotic access to my step-brother to increase his tennis skills and stamina, as well as for the private things, and as a result, Joel, a formidable player to begin with, was rapidly becoming virtually unstoppable. Of course, my step-brother still had no awareness that it was really I who was calling the shots. Thanks to my hypnotic manipulations and post-hypnotic arm-twisting, he was convinced his forays into hypno-sport were all self-hypnosis, not hetero-hypnosis. He also traced his new fascination with all things hypnotic to the cabaret show on my birthday, rather than the compulsions I’d planted in his sub-conscious. Likewise, he had no idea that the real reason I was here observing all this in the first place was because of my post-hypnotic command that he would want to spend more time with me. He thought he’d invited me to watch the practice match just to be nice.)

   By the time Joel finished his tale, Johnny was looking at him as though he’d suddenly grown another head. “You’re kidding me, right? I mean… nobody takes that stuff seriously. It’s total bullshit! You can’t run faster or play harder just because you wave a watch in front your face and tell yourself to!”

   “Really! Then how come you’re flat on your back puffing like a beached whale and I’m not even breathing hard!? I tell you, Johnny, it’s unbelievable what you’re capable of accomplishing when you have your mind really under control! My body still let’s me know when it needs rest, but I never really feel tired. And my concentration…! I swear, sometimes it almost seemed to me as though you and the ball were moving in slow motion. I can’t describe it.” Joel looked vaguely frustrated at his inability to express what he meant. Then his face brightened again. “I could show you! I can hypnotize you if you’ll let me, and then you’ll see for yourself what it’s like.” My handsome step-brother was beaming with enthusiasm as he complied with (you guessed it) yet another of my post-hypnotic orders. I’d trained him as a hypnotist (to the very best of my ability and completely without his conscious knowledge) expressly so that he could recruit some of his handsome buddies to share in our reindeer games. He was irresistibly compelled to seize any opportunity he could scrape up to involve one or another of them in hypnotic experiments. (Thanks to Joel’s riveting blue eyes and my thorough tutoring on the proper m.o., we’d already had one fairly decent success with Gary Creed, another tennis teammate, chosen mainly because he was convenient and Joel needed a practice run. Under hypnosis, we’d been able to make him strip, and he did have the necessary amnesia afterwards, but I hadn’t gone after any real sex because, frankly, Gary just wasn’t all that cute. Johnny, however, was definitely fuckable. I kept my fingers crossed in hopes that he’d take the bait, and that he was hypnotizable enough to capture, because he was much hotter than Gary.)

   The handsome dark-haired tennis-player still looked pretty skeptical, although, in spite of himself, he also looked interested. “You’re gonna swing a watch in my face?” he snorted.

   “No, dude, that’s Hollywood crap. I guess it might work if you believed strongly enough that it would, but most guys, including me, would find the whole scene too embarrassing to deal with. Hypnotism only happens when you’re relaxed and comfortable enough to let it. Why don’t we go back to the locker room and get cleaned up, and then we’ll find somewhere quiet and you can give it a try.” Acting as though consent were already given, so as not to give his teammate the chance to demur, Joel reached out his hand and pulled him to his feet. And apparently it worked, since, without another word, Johnny followed my bro off the court and over to the gym.

   When they came back out, I was already in place. Since tennis practice is after school, nearly everyone was already gone anyway, but I’d found a particularly sheltered corner of the lawn out behind the auditorium where there were no doors or windows on the entire wall, and there were a couple of recessed areas. Best of all, there was a small stand of trees not far way from which (although it was too far away for me to hear what Joel would actually be saying) I could observe without being noticeable either by our targeted subject or by casual passers by. It was as close to private as one could find at school (and the hypnotism had to take place here, since I hadn’t been able to invent any reason for Joel to suggest taking it elsewhere that wouldn’t have raised a red flag for our potential victims, even though, once they were entranced it was easy to program them to go wherever we wanted for the more x-rated activities). We’d used it for Gary’s initial induction, too.

   I watched as my step-brother positioned Johnny. They were sitting face to face on the grass, with their legs crossed Indian-style, so close that their knees almost touched. Joel placed his hands in his lap, palms up, obviously demonstrating, and his teammate followed suit. My bro said something, and Johnny snickered, which caused him to repeat whatever it was more insistently, his handsome face leaving no doubt of his seriousness. Apparently he made his point, because Johnny composed himself and began to gaze dutifully into Joel’s eyes.

   I wish I could have been the fly on the wall, so as to hear Joel take our handsome dark-haired classmate under. It was outrageously sexy, even just as a silent feature. Johnny stared into those irresistible eyes, his face becoming first focused, then fascinated, and finally absolutely blank, as though there were nothing left in his world except those twin blue pools in which his mind was drowning, the soft, compelling voice that was systematically destroying his will. His shoulders slumped, and his body began to sag as he sat. Gradually his eyelids fluttered, struggled, and then closed. Suddenly Joel reached out and pulled him forward. Johnny went completely limp, coming to rest with his head against my step-bro’s shoulder.

   Joel began to speak much more rapidly and decisively, almost directly into the sleeping boy’s ear. From time to time he would pause for a response from Johnny, who appeared to be answering as expected, since my step-bro didn’t stop or change what he was doing. Finally, after a shorter time than I would have thought, Joel propped Johnny back up into a sitting position and snapped his fingers. The dark-haired boy opened his eyes, got to his feet, and then walked slowly off towards the parking lot. Johnny was still obviously operating under hypnosis. He seemed not to take any further notice of Joel, and his expression still looked as blankly frozen as if he’d been dosed with Botox.

   I hurried over to where Joel was still sitting. (He, of course, was also now deep in hypnosis, having gone back into trance, by post-hypnotic conditioning, as soon as he’d gotten Johnny well under, a necessity since, otherwise, my step-bro would have gone on with what he’d consciously thought was the agenda – better tennis for his teammate - instead of following my orders to turn his subject into a helpless zombie slave and then send him off to our house for further programming and, if all went well, a lot of other stuff.) “Stand up, Joel,” I commanded, “We’re going home.” He rose to his feet and obediently followed me to the car. “You drive, Bro.” (Well, he always did, anyway.) “You’ll drive safely and well, but at the same time you’re driving, you’ll be going deeper and deeper into your trance, and you’ll be hearing and accepting my instructions. You are in my power, you are my slave, you can’t resist anything!”

   “…slave…” my handsome, mind-fucked step-brother sleepily agreed, as I more-or-less stuffed him into the driver’s seat of our car.

   I went around to the passenger side and got in as well, and off we went. Fortunately, traffic was light, so even with my constant barrage of hypno-programming in preparation to greet our new recruit, and Joel’s hypnotically enforced safe-driving, we made good time and arrived home just as Johnny, still in robot-mode, pulled up in front of our house. The parental units were both out of town for the week, so I didn’t have to worry about sneaking two automatons into the house. No one who cared would even notice that we were home, much less what various mental states we were all in. On my command, Joel recaptured Johnny’s enslaved attention, and we all three went inside.



   After he’d subjected Johnny to a substantial amount of deepening, I’d ordered my step-bro to transfer control of his hypnotized teammate to me, and now they both stood at attention in front of me, their eyes closed tight in hypnotic sleep, matching bookends of spellbound helplessness. But I had one last special deepener that I wanted to subject Johnny to, one I’d used to great effect on Joel the second time I put him under (and one that had been responsible for him losing his ass-cherry to me). It was pretty clear from our classmate’s ongoing responses to the hypnotic process that he was nearly as suggestible as Joel. He might even prove to be the equal of my amazingly hypnotizable step-brother, so I had high hopes for the ultimate success of this deepener when applied to this newest sub.). “Johnny,” I said, “Your right hand is beginning to rise to your face. It’s being drawn to your forehead as if it were a magnet. It’s impossible for you to control it.” Immediately his hand began, ever so slowly, to drift upwards towards his sleeping face. “When it touches your forehead, it will stick there like it’s been super-glued; and it will drain away all your thoughts, all your will, all your memory of yourself and your past. No matter how hard you may try, you won’t be able to break that connection of hand and forehead, and soon there will be nothing at all remaining in your mind but unquestioning, unresisting obedience to me… nothing at all… helpless… mindless… obedient… and the hand floats nearer and nearer…”

    My step-brother, in his typical, perfect trance response, hadn’t fought it at all when I’d offered these same suggestions to him. His hand had risen to smoothly his forehead and he’d simply stood there passively as hypnosis turned him into an oblivious toy. Johnny, on the other hand, either was not as deeply under yet or else had a better-developed sense of self-preservation. I’d scarcely finished three sentences when his left hand had feverishly grabbed his right in an effort to hold it back. His handsome face was screwed up with panic, and behind his closed eyelids, his eyes were darting back and forth like pin-balls. However, he wasn’t able to fight his way out of trance, and as for the suggested motion itself, he might as well have been trying to stop the advance of a glacier. In spite of the straining biceps of his left arm, his right hand continued inexorably on its path, touched his forehead, and froze there. Johnny continued to struggle, trying to pull the hand away, but gradually the struggles grew weaker and weaker. The distressed expression on his face faded, to be replaced with one of growing bewilderment and then innocent blankness. His left hand continued to pluck feebly and his immobile right wrist for a moment or two longer, and then suddenly it relaxed and fell limply to his side, all strength, all resistance gone.

   He looked so sexy-hot in his defeated helplessness that I almost suffered another unscheduled ejaculation. But after several weeks of putting my handsome step-bro through his late-night paces, I was gaining sexual experience, and along with that came much better control (plus, after the first time, I’d given myself a little self-hypnotic talking-to as a guard against just such future occurrences). Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I gently removed Johnny’s hand from his forehead, lowering his arm to his side. “You’re completely in my power now, aren’t you, Johnny? You’re ready to do anything I tell you to, no matter what it is,” I commanded.

   “Yeah.” His voice, as he answered, sounded so normal and unconcerned that the topic might have been the weather instead of total mind-slavery.

   “Are you gay or straight, Johnny?” I was pretty sure I knew he was straight, but it never hurts to check.

   “I… I don’t know.”

   Oops, that’s right; I’d temporarily wiped his memory. Well, no matter, since I’d have had to adjust it in the direction I wanted anyway. “You’re gay, Johnny. You love sucking cock and you love getting your ass fucked. You like hot, good-looking guys. They turn you on. Joel and I turn you on. You want to have sex with us… you want to have sex with us… Say it!”

   “I want to have sex with Joel and Kyle.” Johnny’s expression still showed nothing but peaceful, mindless sleep. However, the crotch of his pants was now pushed out by an erection of what promised to be quite satisfactory proportions. I had him!

   “Joel, Johnny,” I continued, “I’ll count to three and snap my fingers, and you’ll open your eyes without waking up. You’ll do whatever I tell you. I’m in complete control. One… two… three.” Snap! My step-brother and his friend opened their eyes. Both of them may have looked a little vague, but basically they were just standing there quite naturally, as though at any moment they would begin to move again and go on with whatever they had been doing… except, of course, they didn’t. Their tableau was guaranteed to hold unchanged until I said otherwise. I quickly undressed and then lay down on the bed.

   “Guys, kiss each other and get very turned on. Then come and take turns sucking my cock while you make out.” I love watching the show almost as much as I love being in it. Joel, by now so thoroughly indoctrinated in his hypno-gay-boy-toy status, turned on a dime, as efficiently as a factory servo, and pulled Johnny into his embrace while the dark-haired boy was still getting his bearings. However, once their lips had locked, Johnny quickly got with the program. He grabbed my step-brother’s ass, pulling his body even closer, and it was obvious from the sliding lips and bulging cheeks that the kiss was an orgy of dueling tongues and mutual (if hypnotically forced) lust. I stroked myself gently (not that I needed it!) as I waited for it to be my turn.

   The kiss finally broke and, obedient to the command, they both turned to look at me, eyes filled with mindless zombie passion. Johnny got to the bed first (although Joel was right behind him). His mouth swooped down on my cock like a piglet going for the tit, his eyes closed in bliss, and he began to deep throat me greedily, at the same time as he humped his still-jeans-covered ass against my step-bro’s tented fly which was grinding against it. And he was very, very good! You’d never have known that an hour or two before he’d been totally straight. Okay, change of plans. Joel had to get a sample of this!

   “Joel, Johnny, stand up and finish undressing each other.” When you’re that deeply hypnotized, hearing is obedience, so, in spite of heaving chests and hard-ons that had made the front of their pants damp, clear signs that they’d have rather continued on with what they were doing, they stopped immediately and obeyed the order without a moment’s hesitation, taking turns, one garment at a time until they were both nude. (Okay, they did continue the tongue-kissing intermittently as they stripped each other – even the deepest hypnosis can’t completely stop a sex-crazed teenage boy!) Seeing their hard cocks in the open, it was clear that Joel had nothing to worry about (not surprising since he was really well-supplied to begin with, and his pal was a smaller guy than he anyway), but that, even so, Johnny’s handsome piece was more than adequate.

   I positioned Johnny on hands and knees on my bed and dragged my step-bro around to stand in front of him with his cock pointing towards Johnny’s vacant face. “Johnny,” I commanded, “Suck Joel’s cock until he cums all over your face. You love the smell and the taste.” Dutifully the dark-haired boy engulfed my step-brother’s dripping hard-on and began to give him energetic head. Joel’s hips pumped as he fucked his friend’s face, but his expression remained abstracted and vague, as though it were all happening to some other deeply hypnotized slave-boy.

   Johnny’s enthusiastic blow-job action was causing his beautiful tight little ass to rock back and forth in time with Joel’s humping. It was irresistible. I suited myself up with a lubed condom as quickly as humanly possible, pushed his knees into a wider stance to admit me and began to rim him for all he was worth to loosen the virgin hole up enough for my beer-can dick (yeah, it’s the one thing I can boast is better than demi-god Joel’s). Fresh from his shower at the school locker room, Johnny was delicious! There was no sour, end-of-the-day funk – just clean boy-musk amplified by a hell of a lot of pheromone action from his current state of hypnotically induced arousal. Yummm!

    In a very short time his ass was yielding as sweetly as a rosebud blooms, so after a couple more squirts of lube, I began to ease myself into him. God, he was so tight and moist! It took a bit of doing to get all the way in, although, thanks to the suggestions I’d given him, Johnny was offering the greatest degree of cooperation and moaning with pleasure (in a muffled way, around the cock he was still busily sucking). Finally, though, his ass was mine and I could begin to fuck in earnest.

   The three of us quickly found a uniform rhythm that allowed all of our various activities to achieve their greatest degree of mutual stimulation. I loved the feel of Johnny’s hot little ass (of course), but I also loved being able to look at my beloved Joel as he grew (even more) mindless with pleasure. Normally, I would have been busy down below, working on him, to produce that effect, so this was the first time I’d really gotten to watch his “sex” face. And it was every bit as captivating as his “trance” face. Those gorgeous eyes, still glazed from trance, yet now also luminous with lust, drew me like a magnet. Without stopping my hip action in Johnny, I leaned forward and pulled Joel to me until I could take possession of his mouth. We kissed and fucked, kissed and fucked, for I couldn’t say how long. I wasn’t under hypnosis (I’d warded myself against it happening by accident after that first, unsettling incident the night of my birthday), but I was definitely in an altered state of some kind.

   When the orgasm hit, it was so powerful it blew my circuits completely. I think I passed out for a couple of minutes. At any rate, I don’t remember withdrawing from Johnny. I came back into conscious focus on my knees on the floor beside the bed. Joel was still mindlessly fucking Johnny’s mindlessly sucking mouth, since I hadn’t been enough in command of my speech to tell them to do otherwise. I left them at it while I quickly cleaned myself up. Then I returned to the program at hand.

    “Joel, at the count of ten, I want you to cum all over Johnny’s face. Johnny you are going to love that. One, two, … nine, ten!”

    “Uh-h-h-h-h!” My step-brother’s eyes rolled up in his head until virtually only the whites showed, and he pumped what looked like a pint of spooge into Johnny’s docilely upturned face. Then he collapsed panting onto the bed beside his dripping friend.

   A word and they were side by side once against fast asleep in trance. I smeared Joel’s cum around on both their faces and my own, until it was nearly all dried or absorbed, and we all had our noses full of the smell. And, of course I reinforced Joel’s particular love for that (at least when he was hypnotized – I still hadn’t had the nerve to see if I could move any of his hypnotically suggested behaviors into his waking state).

   Then it was Johnny’s turn. I left Joel in deepest sleep, since he’d already cum, and his mental “clean-up” was already a given, happening automatically any time he came out of hypnosis. “Johnny, the smell of cum is making you so horny you have to cum. Jack off now.” He went into action immediately and, as long as he’d been being stimulated, it only took him five or six strokes before he was spewing like a geyser all over his abs. At my command he went limp, his face innocently blank and relieved.

   Before wiping Johnny’s memory of the afternoon’s events and sending him home, however, I gave him some strong post-hypnotic suggestions to keep him under my sway. As I had done with Joel, I conditioned him with his own trance-cue and made sure that he retained his fondness for the smell and taste of cum (using his own load, still pooling on his belly, to reinforce it, before toweling him clean), and for gay hypno-sex in general. Of course, this was all to remain sub-conscious, since in his waking life he was, as I had guessed, totally straight. But from now on, he’d find himself compelled to hang out with Joel and/or me as often as we wanted him to, and just a word or two would put him right back into our games. He was much too good a fuck to use only once!

   “Johnny, you’ll drive straight home, and you won’t come out of hypnosis until you get there. You will not remember anything about coming here, about what we did, even about being hypnotized at all. The only things you’ll remember about this afternoon are your tennis game with Joel and driving home after it. You will explain the extra time to yourself in any way that seems likely to you, and you will believe that explanation unshakably.” I made certain all of this was perfectly clear in his enslaved mind and then sent him on his way. He drifted obediently out of the bedroom, dreamily oblivious to his hypnotized buddy Joel and me still cuddled up naked in the bed, and moments later I heard the front door open and close, and then his car starting up.

    I turned back to my handsome step-brother, still sound asleep and completely in my power. He was so-o-o beautiful it almost made me cry. I kissed his sleeping lips again, but it was too soon since my last mind-blowing orgasm to get anything new going in my spent body. And besides, it was already after six. I’d have to wake him up very soon so that we could deal with getting ourselves fed. “Joel, open your eyes, stand up, and get dressed.” He obeyed, a blank-faced sci-fi-movie robot. When his clothing was back in order, I took him to his own bed and made him lie down on top of it. Then I spoke his wake-up cue and snapped my fingers. Joel’s eyes opened and he looked about a little groggily. “Dude,” I smiled, “Get your ass up. It’s time for us hunter-gatherers to find our dinner. Have a good nap, Bro?”

   Joel grinned lazily and stretched. “Oh, yeah. I feel fantastic!”