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.

Hypnotism’s Poster Boy



   The ladies were going wild. He began to unbutton the flowing shirt of his romantic, Orlando-Bloom-style pirate costume, milking each button for all it was worth as his hips swayed to the beat of the music. God, he loved this! All these chicks were hungry for him, Josh Van Buren, the best male exotic dancer in the business. Josh played with the crowd, showing teasing glimpses of his awesomely sculpted pecs and six-pack stomach, and then pulling the shirt closed again and again before finally allowing it to slide down his arms and fall to the floor. Man, some of these women were really hot! If he played his cards right, he could count, not just on the huge tips that he viewed as nothing more than his due, but on getting lucky with one of the babes as well. After all, it had happened often enough before this. Josh fixed his attention on the prettiest one within easy reach, giving her his smokiest look while undoing his fly. She licked her lips and squirmed in her seat, returning his stare with equal heat. Oh yeah, he was in like Flynn! Josh could feel his cock beginning to swell in response, which, he knew, would look really good in the shiny mini-briefs he had on under the breakaway trousers. He began to ease the pants down, preparing to tear them away, and…

   “Wide awake!”

   Suddenly Josh Van Buren was standing frozen in shock in his high school auditorium, bare to the waist, costume pants down around the tops of his pirate boots, and the beginning of an erection pushing out the front of his boxer shorts. The boy stared in helpless confusion at his fellow “Safe Halloween” party-goers, who were applauding and laughing hysterically at the spectacle of the handsome, self-controlled eighteen-year-old jock (starting quarterback and BMOC) hypnotized into stripping. How the hell had he gotten up here? He couldn’t remember coming onto the stage. And he had no idea what he’d just been doing. Why the fuck was he half-undressed?? Blushing so hard he thought his skin must be glowing like a searchlight, the rattled teenager yanked his pants back up and fastened them with clumsy haste, only now noticing that a few of his other male classmates were engaged in a similar embarrassed scramble, apparently having been victimized by the same hypnotic suggestion whatever the hell it had been. Somehow, though, that realization didn’t help much, since none of the others seemed to have removed nearly as much clothing as he had. He snatched up his shirt and began to put it back on, but before he could even begin to fasten the buttons he felt a hand on his shoulder, heard a voice say, “Sleep now.” Josh collapsed slowly to the floor, where he lay in a totally relaxed, totally oblivious heap, all embarrassment (along with everything else) forgotten. And the show went on…



   “Three… two… and one. Wide awake and feeling fine.”

   Josh’s eyes fluttered open. He felt great – relaxed, refreshed, and energized, but also a little disoriented, as though he’d been daydreaming and lost track of things. He looked around, finding, to his surprise, that he was sitting in a chair on the stage, alone except for Dr. Sleep, the hypnotist. How had he wound up here? He hadn’t volunteered for the show… had he? And where were all the kids who had rushed up on stage when the guy called for volunteer subjects? Josh shook his head slightly, as though trying to dislodge the reluctant memories, but nothing became any clearer. He couldn’t seem to remember anything beyond the point at which the hypnotist guy had started his spiel.

   His eyes alive with questions, Josh turned to the hypnotist, but before he could articulate any of them, Dr. Sleep said with a chuckle, “You don’t remember a thing, do you, Josh? Well, don’t let it worry you. I’m sure your friends will tell you all about it.” This elicited laughter from Josh’s classmates (some of it, he thought, sounding a little cruel). Oh shit, he was really in for it! Then the hypnotist added, “But I will say this: you can be very impressed with yourself. In all my years of doing these shows, I’ve never worked with a more gifted a hypnotic subject than you are. Young man, you really are quite exceptional.” Dr. Sleep called for another round of applause for all of the volunteer subjects, and then ended his show, leaving Josh, still unenlightened, with no choice but to leave the stage and rejoin his friends.

   With a little trepidation, Josh made his way down the steps and tried to push through the milling crowd to get to his date Chelsea Franklin. She would be the safest way to find out what had happened without enduring too much teasing. But before he reached her, Mindy Shafer barged into him, giving him the full-two-tit brush as she passed. “Nice bod, Joshie!” She snickered meanly, “If you’re looking for your date, I think Marc’s over there.” On her arm, her boyfriend Bud Conlin just sneered. Josh didn’t bother to respond. They were both un-friends of his: Mindy, because she thought that, as head cheerleader, by rights she ought to be dating Josh, and considered his lack of interest to be both damaging to her social prestige and highly insulting; and Bud, because he was eaten alive with jealousy over Mindy’s fixation on Josh and over his rival’s sports talent (Bud was the perpetual second-string QB).

   Josh continued to work his way past the rest of the kids, ignoring a few more jibes on the way (although none of them as acid-laden as Mindy’s) and finally reached Chelsea. She looked very glad to see him back in normal conscious mode, and also a little concerned. Her reaction caused Josh’s sense of unease to ratchet up another notch. “Chels, please tell me what the hell just happened!” he begged.

   He could feel her hand on his arm trembling a little as she answered, “Well, it was like that hypnotist guy said. You were one dandy little subject, love!” She went on to give a blow-by-blow description of the show and Josh’s part in it. Not everything had been as embarrassing as the strip act. As a matter of fact, since it was a high school entertainment, it had really been pretty tame; the only reason Josh had ended up showing his underwear was that he’d gotten his pants undone so quickly the hypnotist hadn’t noticed what was happening in time to stop him before they headed south. Good thing he was wearing underwear! The only other comparably uncomfortable moment had been when Josh, under the deeply hypnotized impression that his also hypnotized best friend and teammate, tight-end Marc Dufours, was a beautiful woman, had attempted to slow-dance with him. But since they’d both been trying to lead, that had ended up looking more like a wrestling match than romance, and so it wasn’t as humiliating for the straight teen as it might have been.

   Josh heaved a small sigh of relief. “It doesn’t sound like it was that bad,” he said. “Why are you acting so weirded out?”

   “It wasn’t what you did in the show. It was how you ended up there in the first place. We were just sitting and watching. I’m pretty sure you weren’t trying to get hypnotized, and you certainly hadn’t volunteered to be in the show. Frankly, I hadn’t even thought you were paying all that much attention until he said ‘Sleep’ and you just collapsed against my shoulder like you’d passed out. He must have seen you go over, because he called you to come up on stage right away, and as soon as he gave the order, you got right to your feet and marched. I tried to grab your hand to hold you back, but you pulled out of my grasp like you didn’t even feel it. It was like you weren’t there anymore; like you were completely helpless, without a mind or will of your own, and he was controlling your body like a zombie. It was creepy!” Chelsea shuddered. “Night-of-the-Living-Dead creepy!”

   Put like that, Josh had to agree that it did sound a little unsettling. He, too, was pretty certain he hadn’t intended to be part of the show, so his inability to avoid going into trance made him feel vaguely uneasy. It seemed somehow… wussy; like he’d given up in a fight he should have been able to win. He pulled Chelsea into his arms, trying to bolster his somewhat shaken sense masculine self-confidence.



   “What is it with you and that guy?” Bud was sulking. When they’d returned to the gym where the refreshments and the band were set up, Mindy had practically pulled his arm off dragging him to one of the more secluded areas. (For the party, the gym had been decorated to look like a medieval castle, with a lot of paper and Styrofoam mock stonework creating several fairly deep niches along the back wall - small cubicles partially set apart from the main space and fitted out with various “spooky” Halloween displays). And now, instead of the romantic action he’d been anticipating, the topic of conversation was that asshole Van Buren. Again!

   “Nothing,” Mindy lied. “I am so over Josh Van Buren it isn’t even funny. But that doesn’t mean I’m not still interested in a little revenge. There’s a way we could have some real fun at his expense… or maybe you didn’t notice how ridiculous that hypnotist made him look!”

   “Of course he looked ridiculous! He was hypnotized! No one’s going to hold that against him!”

   “No, they’re not,” Mindy said in a mock-patient tone that suggested Bud was being obtuse and made him glower even more. “They won’t hold it against him because they know he was hypnotized. But you just saw him make a complete ass of himself for no other reason than that Dr. Sleep ordered him to. If we put him in a trance, without everyone else knowing about it, we could send him back out into the real world ready to self-destruct, and no one would ever know it wasn’t his own fault – including him.” She giggled evilly.

   Bud stared at her as though she’d lost her mind. “And how on earth do you think we’d do that? He’d never be dumb enough to let us hypnotize him. And even if he did, what good would it do? We’re not hypnotists!”

   “We don’t have to be!” Mindy chortled. “And Josh wouldn’t have any say in the matter. You may not have been paying close enough attention to notice, but I was and…”

   “Only because freakin’ Josh Almighty was takin’ his clothes off!” Bud muttered nastily.

   Mindy continued as though he hadn’t even spoken, “And I noticed that Dr. Sleep forgot to cancel out one pretty important suggestion.” She waited.

   “Okay, I’ll bite,” Bud finally conceded with ill grace. “What suggestion?”

   “The suggestion that made those kids go back to sleep whenever he wanted them to! They’re all still primed to go right back into trance whenever they get the signal. I suppose eventually it must wear off, but for now, all you’d have to do is to touch Josh’s shoulder and say ‘Sleep now’, and he’d have no choice but to do whatever we told him.”

    “Why should I touch his shoulder? You’re the one who wants to touch him!” Bud fumed. He was still in a major snit.

   Mindy sighed like an adult answering a whiny four-year-old. “You need to do it because I can’t go into the little boy’s room. That’s the only place you’ll be able to get at Josh without everyone seeing what’s going on and without that dumb slut Chelsea all over him like a skin rash. Just wait until he needs to go and then follow him in.”

   “I’m not going to hang around the lavatory all night just trying to catch that miserable son of a bitch!”

   Mindy’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Bud, don’t you ever want to be first string? How long do think the coach will keep starting Josh if he’s programmed to be clumsy and confused on the field? If he can’t remember the plays or hold on to the ball? If he can’t get a pass to Marc Dufours unless he sends it by UPS? I would have thought that would be worth a little of your time. I’d have thought you’d jump at the chance!”

   Bud’s expression became calculating as the actual possibilities finally registered. “Okay, say I do this. What’s in it for you? And it had better not be a new boyfriend!”

   “I already told you I’m over him,” Mindy said breezily. “You want to ruin his sports career; I want to ruin his love life. We’ll make him break up with Chelsea in such an outrageous way that no other girl will have him on a dare. Now, once he’s back in trance, here’s what you say…” She proceeded to explain step-by-step how to destroy their unsuspecting victim.



    However, while hatching their plot Mindy and Bud were not as private as they thought. As it happened, Marc Dufours had hidden himself in the niche next to theirs. He’d gone there to hide while the girl he’d taken to the party went to the powder room, hoping that he could buy some time off from her motor-mouth by staying out sight when she returned and then pretending they’d just kept missing each other. (Marc, handsome as actor Jesse Metcalfe circa John Tucker Must Die, whom, in point of fact, he rather resembled, and therefore able to have any girl he went after, had a reputation for being too picky and a bad boyfriend precisely because of being adept at just such little deceptions as this. However, those deceptions did exactly what he relied upon them to do: they kept everyone from guessing at their real purpose, which was to stop any potential for intimacy with a girlfriend from ever developing to the point that it would demand action on his part, and therefore reveal to the homophobic world of a small-town high school his total lack of interest in the opposite sex. For, straight though he might appear, Marc was one hundred per cent gay, and the only person he truly wanted to make out with was his handsome and unfortunately heterosexual buddy Josh!) Had the walls actually been made of stone, of course, he wouldn’t have overheard a thing, but the fake materials provided no such barrier to sound. He could hear everything Bud and Mindy said to each other, and as soon he’d heard Josh’s name come up, he had eavesdropped shamelessly.

    Marc listened to their developing plot with mounting outrage, but managed to stifle his initial impulse to rush in and deck Bud on the spot. After all, as it quickly occurred to him, he’d been up on that stage, too. And since, unlike Josh, he hadn’t been under so deeply that he didn’t remember anything (as a matter of fact, even though he’d played it for laughs, that hypnotized slow-dance had been the high point of his evening, week, maybe even life so far), and he was certain that, not only hadn’t the hypnotist cancelled the suggestion that returned his subjects to trance on cue, but he’d even been sloppy enough to word it in the first place so that it wasn’t tied to his voice specifically. Bud and Mindy really would be able to use it to place Josh helplessly in their power. And if Marc were to barge in on them now, all it would take was a touch to his shoulder and that fatal phrase, and he be taken out of the play as fast as if he’d been hit by a blind-side tackle. No, the only answer was to get to Josh and warn him before he took his next bathroom break. Unless… Suddenly another idea struck Marc. Why couldn’t he put Josh back under and then remove the cue himself? He quickly and silently abandoned his hiding place, carefully on the watch for Bud and Mindy. Fortunately for Marc, both of them were paying little attention to anything except their conversation, and so they didn’t see him as he crept past.



   “Josh, I’ve got to talk to you! Chelsea, sorry, but I have to borrow your boy for a minute. It’s important.” Marc felt almost as breathless as if he’d been running full tilt.

   “Dude, chill out!” Josh said with some amusement at his obvious agitation. “Excuse us, Chels.” Then he allowed his friend to lead him away. However, when it became clear that Marc intended to leave the gym altogether, he stopped. “Where are we going?”

   “Bro, this is really important, and we need some privacy.” Marc looked around nervously, but to his relief no one seemed to be watching them. He grabbed Josh’s arm and more-or-less dragged him out of the gym, down the hall, and then into an empty classroom, pulling the door shut after them, by which point Josh was beginning to giggle.

   “Marc,” he snickered, “The last time someone did that to me, I ended up with her tongue down my throat!” Josh grinned mischievously. “You haven’t gone gay on me, have you, dude?”

   “Josh, this is serious. You have to listen to me.” Marc then filled him in on what he’d heard. It wiped the grin right off Josh’s face.

   “Fuck! What am I gonna do?” he moaned wretchedly. “I can’t keep away from those two forever! And you know I won’t be able to fight it; not with me bein’ the freakin’ hypnotism poster boy! They’ll fuckin’ total me!!”

   “No, they won’t, because we’re gonna beat ’em to the punch. If I trance you and then you trance me, we can shut the cue off for each other and then we’ll both be safe. We just have to get it done before we let either one of them get near us.” With a much greater appearance of calm than he was actually feeling, Marc reached out to touch Josh lightly on the shoulder and softly said, “Sleep now, bro.”

   The effect was immediate. Josh was instantly back under deepest hypnosis and limp as a mackerel. If it weren’t for Marc’s quick athletic reflexes, the boy would have ended up on the floor, just as he had on the stage. As it was, Marc found himself with a large dead-weight armful of totally hypnotized young man. “Woah, dude, you’re heavy!” he gasped. “Stand up straight!” Josh obeyed, coming to a kind of modified version of military attention. His expression had that serene, nobody-home quality of the truly entranced. His mind was patently wide open.

   Marc felt as though the sensation of Josh slumped helplessly in his arms had imprinted itself on his body as indelibly as a tattoo, and it resonated with the earlier, dreamlike memory of their spellbound slow-dance together to awake in him an almost unbearable sense of longing. His cock surged to full erection in response. What he was thinking filled him with guilt, but the temptation proved irresistible in spite of that. There wasn’t time to get physical now, but he just couldn’t let the opportunity slip away, even though it meant descending to the level of Mindy and Bud. “Josh, from now on, when I and only I touch your shoulder and say ‘sleep now’, you’ll instantly go deep into hypnosis just like now… or even deeper. There won’t be any way for you to stop yourself from doing it. Do you understand?”

   “Yes, I understand.” Josh sounded like a sleepy robot.

   “But remember, that’s only when I say it. If anyone else does and says those things, it’ll have no effect on you whatsoever. No effect at all. As a matter of fact, from this very moment, no one can ever hypnotize you again except me.” Marc was watching like a hawk for any signs of resistance, but his friend remained as calmly impassive as though this were the program they’d originally agreed on. “But for me, you’ll always go so deep into hypnosis that you won’t be able to think for yourself at all, or to question any instructions I give you. So deep that you’ll obey me automatically no matter what I tell you to do. It won’t make any difference whether it’s a minute or weeks from now when I trigger your trance, and it won’t matter what you’re doing. Your reaction will be the same every time. Repeat those orders.”

   Josh softly droned though the repetition, neither hurrying nor balking, missing none of the important points, while Marc fidgeted impatiently, more than ever aware of the pressure of passing time. They’d already been out here for more than five minutes, and even if no one else noticed, Chelsea (whom Mindy had been bitchy but not inaccurate to characterize as clingy) would be wondering what they were up to and might even come looking for them. The hypnotized boy had barely gotten out the last syllable when Marc commanded, “At the count of three, you’ll be wide awake and feeling fine. You won’t consciously remember anything that’s happened while you’ve been in this trance. Nothing at all! You’ll put me under just like I did you, and then you’ll cancel out the cue-phrase for me. And that’s all you’ll do while you have me hypnotized. It won’t even occur to you to give me any other kind of suggestion. One… oh wait, one more thing… from now on you’re going to realize more and more just how much you like me. I’m the coolest guy you know, and you love to hang with me any time… even more than you like to hang with your girlfriend.” Though he was in a hurry now, Marc wanted to be sure he’d have plenty of other better opportunities later on to take advantage of the back door he was installing in Josh’s psyche. “One… two… three. Wide awake.”

   Josh’s eyes snapped open. “Well, are you gonna hypnotize me or not?” He obviously didn’t recall a thing.

   “Already did, bro. Now you do me.”

   “Huh?” But instruction to hypnotize Marc, delivered to Josh’s sub-conscious as it had been, among the other post-hypnotic suggestions, kept him from being side-tracked by his own sense of confusion. He touched his buddy’s shoulder and spoke the words, watching with something like awe as Marc’s eyes closed and his head fell forward onto his chest. He quickly and efficiently gave his hypnotized friend the orders that would free him from vulnerability to the cue-phrase, and then woke him back up.

   “There, you should be safe now,” Josh said.

   Marc, who hadn’t experienced any trance amnesia, was pretty sure this would be so, but since he wanted an excuse to test Josh’s implanted control he said, “Better try it.”

   “Okay, dude.” Josh tapped his shoulder. “Sleep now.”

   “Nothing. Excellent! Now you.” Marc placed his hand on Josh’s muscular shoulder. “Sleep now. And stay standing!” The handsome quarterback was, once again, out like a light. Marc left his hand in place for a brief moment, savoring the sensation, and then said, “As soon as a take my hand off your shoulder, you’ll be wide awake. You won’t remember going into trance at all, and you won’t feel as though any time passed. You’ll be convinced that the cue phrase didn’t have any effect on you.” He lifted up his hand, allowing the mesmerized stud to return to the here and now.

   “Nothing for me either. We’re in the clear.” Josh’s relief was palpable. He looked at Marc seriously. “Thanks for watching my back, dude! You’re a real friend, and I owe you big-time!” He gave Marc a brotherly half-hug. It never occurred to him that, while it wasn’t completely out of character for him to do so, it suggested a degree of physical warmth between them that wasn’t exactly in character either (or, at least, hadn’t been until that moment). Then the two boys headed back to the gym.



   Bud and Mindy broke up that same night. When Bud had finally gotten his chance to try to re-hypnotize Josh in the men’s room, Josh had responded furiously, “Sleep now, my ass, you greasy little weasel! Marc told me all about your fucked up little plan! If you ever try anything on with me again, that bitch girlfriend of yours will be visiting you in Intensive Care! Now get out of my face before I pound you into dog-meat!” Bud had scuttled away mortified, and the subsequent bitter (and extremely loud) fight he had with Mindy over her Josh-obsession and ‘hair-brained schemes’ not only put paid to their relationship, but fueled the high-school gossip mill for a week afterward.



   During the following two weeks, Marc had done as much research on the subject of hypnotism as he could manage on the sly, as well as taking every opportunity to place Josh back in trance, discovering in the process that being a hypnotist was, in itself, a turn-on for him. He found he was getting off on his control and Josh’s helplessness almost as much as he was getting off on Josh himself. He’d experimented with a number of deepening exercises (not that Josh especially appeared to require them – he was indeed, as he himself had put it, the hypnotism poster boy), and had also removed the rather clumsy coupling of the trigger phrase with the touch to the shoulder (once he understood that it wasn’t really necessary), so that now the words alone would put his friend under his control. Josh, for his part, had no awareness of any of this. He only knew he’d been spending a lot of quality time with his buddy Marc, but, thanks to the post-hypnotic command to enjoy hanging out together, that suited him just fine. In order to make sufficient free time for that, he’d had to extricate himself from the clinging Chelsea (who had definitely had a problem with her boyfriend’s new set of priorities), but he’d done it as quietly and tactfully as he could, so even she wasn’t furious with him, and (unlike Mindy’s hoped-for version of that outcome) the rest of the kids hadn’t made him a pariah because of it. Finally, though, Marc felt that his understanding of what he was doing and Josh’s hypnotic receptivity were both as good as they were going to get. He was ready to move on to what had been the point all along – turning his friend into his lover.

   Marc’s parents were out of town, and the two boys were playing a video game in his basement one evening when Marc said quite casually, “Sleep now, Josh.” The controls slipped from Josh’s hands as his body went completely limp. His eyes shut and his head fell forward. Marc looked at the helpless figure with satisfaction and continued, “That’s right, Josh, sleep… sleep, and listen to my voice, and feel yourself going deeper and deeper into trance… deeper and deeper with every sound you hear, with every breath you take, with every beat of your own heart… deeper and deeper. Say ‘I’m going deeper and deeper’.”

   “I’m going deeper and deeper.” Josh’s voice was so flat and emotionless it might have been computer-generated, although the words were perfectly clear (some time ago Marc had become tired of trying to interpret his entranced buddy’s sleepy mumbles, so he’d given him suggestions to ensure normal diction even when utterly zonked).


   “I’m going deeper and deeper.”

   “Keep saying over and over… feeling it over and over… You can’t stop saying it… you can’t stop going deeper and deeper…”

   “I’m going deeper and deeper… I’m going deeper and deeper… I’m…”

   As Josh droned on and on, Marc removed the game-controller from his lap and turned off the computer. Then he undressed, giving his already hard cock a couple of encouraging strokes. “Stand up, Josh,” the young hypnotist commanded.

   “I’m going deeper and deeper… I’m going deeper and deeper…” Without opening his eyes, Josh came to his feet, still compulsively reciting his mantra. He swayed slightly as he stood there, his arms limp at his sides, his head continuing to hang.

    “As you go deeper and deeper,” Marc said firmly, “You’re entering a place where you are so helpless, so completely under my control, so hypnotized that your mind will no longer be able to form any thoughts of its own. It becomes wide open and empty, a blank space just waiting for my words to fill it, my commands to rule it. You will be able to stop saying ‘I’m going deeper and deeper’ only when you reach this place and your mind has given itself up to me totally; when you will believe and obey without question or resistance anything I tell you, because you have abandoned all will or responsibility.”

   “I’m going deeper and deeper… I’m…” As Josh continued his dreamy litany while Marc spoke to him, he was swaying more and more. His muscular shoulders were slumping as though his usually upright posture had been made of wax on a warm day. Marc moved closer, ready to catch to him, since it looked as though his subject might simply collapse into a heap at any moment. “I’m going deeper and deeper… I’m…” Josh’s voice was getting softer and slower, “I’m going deeper and deeper… I’m going deeper… and… deeper…….” He fell silent at last, although he remained (just barely) standing up.

   Grinning, Marc said, “You’re ready to obey me without thinking now no matter what, aren’t you, Josh?”

   “I’m ready to obey you without thinking, Marc.”

   “Take off all your clothes.”

   As though it were the most natural thing in the world (and in his world now, it was), Josh pulled his sweatshirt off over his head. Then he sat back down on the couch to remove his shoes and socks. He stood once more and began to unbuckle his belt and undo the fly of his jeans. It was nothing like the flashy (and therefore funny) hypnotized striptease he’d been tricked into performing at the Halloween party. The handsome, athletic boy was simply undressing in the most natural, efficient way, as though he were in the locker room, or alone in his own bedroom, and, perhaps for that very reason, it was all the hotter to Marc. The unemotional, unembarrassed quality of Josh’s movements gave the illusion that, like a long-time lover, he was accustomed to sharing his nudity with Marc and comfortable with it.

   As Josh peeled down his pants and then quickly followed them with his dark-blue boxer shorts to stand fully nude, Marc’s excitement became so intense he felt as though he wanted to cheer, or scream like a teenage groupie, or howl as wildly as a wolf. He’d seen the tanned, hard-muscled, perfectly-proportioned body now so unconcernedly on display in front of him hundreds of times already in the locker room and the showers, before and after gym classes and football practice. It was no less familiar to him than Josh’s boyishly handsome face, now so innocently blank and mindless in trance or his soft, perpetually tousled, sexy dark-blond hair. But this time, Marc didn’t have to look away or pretend indifference. He could stare as long and avidly as he’d always wanted; examine, revel in, memorize every single fascinating detail of the beautiful face and body that had haunted his fantasies for what seemed like forever. The young hypnotist was scarcely aware of time passing as he stared in rapturous contemplation of the masterpiece, lust rendering him almost as hypnotized as his hypnotized friend. Finally, though, looking was no longer enough. And in order to be able to touch, Marc knew he needed to establish more hypnotic groundwork.

   “Sit down again, Josh.” This was the dangerous part, and, although Marc had read about what he was planning to do next (in a much more socially-acceptable context), he was feeling distinctly nervous for fear that it wouldn’t work. He rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on the arms of the chair he was sitting in and swallowed to try to moisten his dry mouth and throat, before continuing, “In front of you on the coffee table is a framed photograph of the celebrity you think is the hottest; the one who turns you on the most. It’s a very sexy picture. Do you see it?”

   “Yes, I see it.” Josh’s eyes were open now and staring, in an unfocused way, at the coffee table. He was smiling a slightly goofy, lust-filled smile.

   “Who’s it a picture of?”

   “Catherine Zeta-Jones” This wasn’t news to Marc. He knew his buddy had a thing for the raven-haired actress.

   “There’s another photo next to that one – a picture of me. You can see it as well, can’t you?”

   “Yeah.” Josh’s glazed eyes didn’t really move. To his spellbound mind, the table had indeed instantly acquired the other suggested photo, but he was still focused almost exclusively on the imaginary picture of the beautiful movie star. His dick began to harden.

   “There is cup in front of each picture. These cups are filled to some level with liquid, and the level to which they’re filled shows the amount of good feelings you have about the person in the picture. Filled all the way up would represent being deeply, totally, passionately in love. Do you see them, Josh?”

   “I see them.” The hypnotized stud looked vaguely interested (at least to the extent his strait-jacketed mind could be). He added dully, “That’s cool…”

   “You will tell me how full the cups are.”

   Josh dutifully peered a little more closely at the imaginary items before him. “They’re both about half full. The one in front of her picture has a little more in it than the one in front of yours,” he said with mesmerized honesty.

   “That’s right,” Marc said. “You have a lot of sexual desire for Catherine Zeta-Jones. She makes you feel very turned on and horny and you’d have sex with her in an instant, given the chance. But you don’t know her at all, so you couldn’t possibly feel as though you’re in love with her. And you know you like me a lot, that we have a great time hanging out together. I’m your very best friend and you love me like a brother, but you’ve never thought about me in a sexual way. That makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?” Josh nodded slavishly and Marc moved in for the kill. “I’ve picked up the cup from in front of her picture,” he suited actions to his words, “And now I’m pouring that liquid into my cup until it’s all the way full. And as I do, you can feel your sexy feelings about her transferring to me. It’s impossible to resist. The feelings follow the liquid, and once the liquid’s in my cup, the feelings apply only to me.” At this Josh looked both confused and alarmed. His muscles tensed as though he wanted to back away, although he didn’t succeed in achieving more than a twitch and his bedazzled gaze remained locked on Marc’s hands acting out the pantomime. “Now the cup in front of my picture is full to the brim. What does that mean?”

   “I… I…” Josh was stammering, and beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead. “I…”

    “You must say it, Josh. It’s the truth and you can’t hold it back,” Marc pursued relentlessly.

   “I… I… l-love you?” It was a desperate question rather than a statement, as though Josh’s helplessly enslaved mind were begging for an alternative, and yet the boy’s dick grew even harder than before, as it, at least, accepted the suggestion.

   “That’s right. You love me, Josh. You are in my power and you are compelled to love me. Say it.”

   “I’m in your power and I’m compelled to love you.”

   “You love me,” Marc repeated inexorably. “Know it. Believe it. Feel it! You want me more than anyone you’ve ever known or thought about. You’ve always wanted me. The girls you’ve dated, the girls you’ve had, were all just camouflage. Ever since you’ve known me, you’ve dreamed of me… only of me. You remember this now… you remember it and you can’t deny it any longer. You are in love with me.”

   “I’m in love with you… I love you...” Hypnotized Josh had lost his battle. Gone was any resistance, and his voice was now filled with wonder as the previously unthinkable concept took over his whole being. “I love you, Marc!”

   Marc Dufours, trembling with excitement, moved closer. “Josh, I’m going to kiss you. When I do, you’ll wake up. Just as always, you won’t remember anything about being hypnotized today. You’ll know that we’re naked, but it won’t ever occur to you to worry about how we got that way. And you know that we’re kissing because we’re going to make love, because we’re in love, and because neither of us can wait another moment to do it. You’ll experience everything I do to you the moment I do it as exactly that thing you most wanted done at that moment. It’ll be the best damned sex you’ve ever had!” He made his voice as forceful as he could, “You understand, and you will obey!”

   “Yes, Marc.”

   Marc pulled Josh unresisting into his arms and locked lips, feeling his lover’s body come alive in his embrace, going from mindless compliance to active passion in the blink of an eye. They fell back onto the couch in a frenzied tangle of limbs, groping, writhing, kissing and licking. It was the kind of sex only two extremely athletic teenagers could even manage without risking injury, and when Marc finally allowed him to cum, Josh was literally screaming in ecstasy.



   “Well, all of your plotting wouldn’t have gotten you anywhere!” Bud said snidely. He had made a bee-line for Mindy as soon as she entered the lunchroom. “Last night after practice Marc Dufours and your precious Josh came out to the team! They’re fuckin’ faggots!!” He laughed out loud at Mindy’s expression. She looked as though she’d just swallowed a wasp. But then her eyes widened still farther. “What?” he said impatiently. Wordlessly she pointed at him. Then Bud realized she was actually pointing past him. He spun around to find Josh and Marc standing right behind him.

   “I warned you not to mess with us again,” Josh growled, but then he and Marc both broke into grins.

   Marc made eye-contact with Bud. “Showtime!” Bud’s face went blank (although his eyes were panic-stricken), and then he began to sing ‘I’m a Little Teapot’ in a loud, tuneless voice while executing a hokey version of the accompanying dance. Everyone in the cafeteria was staring and laughing as Bud, futilely struggling to stop himself, transformed into Spastic-Geekboy.

   Walking away, Marc chuckled to Josh, “That handshake-induction hypnotism stuff is awesome! Poor dumb Bud wouldn’t have had a chance even if he’d recognized what was going on. I should try it on you sometime.”