Disclaimer: Anyone who is not over the legal age in his community, or who has problems with the idea of erotic hypnotism and gay sex, is not allowed to read this. Although the idea for this story was suggested by a photo shoot and cover shot from In Touch Magazine #300, it does not claim to represent the actual behavior or preferences of that model. All characters and concepts contained herein are fictional, especially this version of the BSA. As everyone knows, homosexuality doesn’t ever happen in their organization. (Well, hardly ever. Maybe they should shorten their acronym by one letter.) One final word of perspective: this story is a quite a bit darker than mine usually are. Enter at your own risk. As always, I love to read, so if this sparks your fantasies, write them down. Please!
by
“Pick up the pace, Bro,” Cody Summers
yelled back to Chip, his elder (by fifteen minutes) twin. “If you don’t stop
woolgathering and step it up, we’ll never make the campsite before dark.” He
pointed ahead to where their other two companions, Dylan Morden and Ben Weiss,
were already nearly out of sight up the trail. “This was supposed to be an
endurance hike, and they’re whipping our asses.”
Chip (as
in “off the old block” – his real name was Marshal, Jr., which he hated) shook
himself out of his daydream and jogged up the path until he was even with his
brother. As they marched on side-by-side, anyone observing would have been
hard-pressed to tell them apart. They were dressed identically in jeans and
their scout uniform shirts, their blond hair was cut in the same nondescript
medium-short style, and their handsome, mischievous, boyish faces were mirror
images of each other (although if you were to look very carefully, you might notice
the slightly more thoughtful, guarded cast to Chip’s expression). The shirts,
of course, were regulation, so they could do nothing about that, but the jeans
and the hairstyles (simply the easiest way to get their fine, soft, straight
hair to behave) were just the result of practicality, and not a symptom of some
creepy twin fetish. (As a matter of fact, when they weren’t “in uniform”, they
went out of their way to dress differently, having developed a real allergy to
being mistaken one for the other.) The most fundamental difference between the
two was invisible. Cody was an uncomplicated, inexperienced but eager, straight
boy, while Chip hid himself deep in his dark closet and pretended to
have an interest in the opposite sex.
Chip’s
convoluted structure of deception didn’t come without its price, however, and
his personality was both more secretive and much darker than his brother’s. In
fact, he could be quite devious, and more than a little ruthless – as he was
being now. The daydream that Cody had interrupted concerned Chip’s plans for
this, their last camping trip before the four eighteen-year-olds dispersed for
college. It was precisely because it was the last chance that he had
decided to act. He was sick of feeling so peripheral to his own life, of never
being able to get any action, while Cody (although by his own admission, still
a virgin) seemed to date practically every other night (at least during
vacation), and he was also determined to have his shot at Ben (as darkly
intense as an Israeli commando) and particularly Dylan (a green-eyed,
black-haired Irish lad with a face of such incredible masculine beauty that a
modeling agency had actually approached him about representation) before
they were completely beyond his reach. Cody of course, would have to come along
with the package, since he couldn’t be eliminated from the group. Chip grinned
a little. That wasn’t too bad. In a weird sort of way, it was kind of like
masturbating.
He was
basing his plans (and his hopes) on the skills he’d taught himself from a book,
checked out of the library surreptitiously, and kept secret from his brother by
dint of careful subterfuge and exceptional good luck: The Secret Arts and
Amazing Power of Hypnotism. The hoopla of the melodramatic title
notwithstanding, it had proved to be a reliable and practical guide for the
budding young hypnotist. Chip had already tried it out on his unsuspecting
twin, with complete success. Cody had gone docilely into trance, without ever
realizing what was happening. And once under, he proved to be a most
accommodating subject, following all of Chip’s instructions without a struggle,
and then obligingly forgetting about them afterward. He now had no idea that
he’d ever been hypnotized, that his brother could put him back into a rigid,
obedient trance at a word, or that he was programmed to be Chip’s main ally in
the plot to enslave their other two friends. He also had no idea that he was
technically no longer a virgin, since he absolutely couldn’t remember
the deep-trance blowjob he’d given Chip.
Chip
tagged his brother on the arm. “C’mon, Cody. You’re the one who was
worried about falling behind. Let’s catch those two turkeys,” and they
double-timed up the trail.
By the time they reached camp, Chip and
Cody had caught up with the other two boys. All four were feeling a little
tired (which fitted right in with Chip’s plans), but expansive and happy to be
out in the wild in such a lovely place. The trail up was just strenuous enough
that the majority of campers didn’t attempt it, so the guys had the area to
themselves. Chip began to put up the tents, while Dylan and Ben foraged for
deadwood for the fire.
Cody was
unpacking the supplies for supper, it being his turn as camp cook. No one was
looking to see, but, as he opened the plastic container that held the stew for
the evening meal, Cody’s face suddenly went blank. He looked around vacantly to
see that neither Ben nor Dylan was in sight, and then from his shirt pocket he
removed two Valium capsules (stolen from their mother’s medicine cabinet at
Chip’s post-hypnotic instigation) and emptied their powdery contents into the
food. (This, of course, was also hypno-Chip’s doing. At a half a Valium per
full-grown boy, Chip had reasoned, no one was going to pass out, but he
wanted his buddies to be extra relaxed. He figured, too, that by eating some of
the stew himself, he’d be able to judge just how zonked they actually became,
so if the effect were too strong for him to cope with, he’d know to abandon the
project.) Once the telltale powder was invisibly mixed in, Cody blinked, and
seemed to return to himself as from a daydream. Unaware of what he had just
done, he continued the dinner prep as Dylan and Ben returned with wood and
began to build the cook-fire. Soon the fire was going strongly, the stew was
bubbling, and the boys settled down to eat. The exertions of the hike, coupled
with the enticing smell of wood-smoke, had honed their appetites to a razor’s
edge. Chip found it much harder to keep his own intake under control than to
see to it that the other three unsuspecting scouts ate enough.
The sun
had set, and stars were beginning to show in the darkening sky. Dinner was
finished, and the four friends were reclining around the fire, talking quietly.
By his own feeling of contented lassitude, Chip guessed that it was now or
never. He had chosen his position in the group to insure that he could observe
the reactions of Ben and Dylan. Cody, across the fire from him, was harder to
see, but that really didn’t matter, since Chip could put his brother back under
the spell with a word. He yawned and stretched luxuriously, and, to his
delight, Ben, and then almost immediately after, Dylan, caught the yawn from
him and followed suit. They were definitely in a suggestible frame of
mind. “You know, I think this is what I’m going to miss most when I’m
away at school,” he said, allowing his voice to begin to assume the soft,
persuasive tone of the hypnotist. “It’s just so peaceful out here.
There’s nothing to worry about, nothing to think about, just the crickets and
the rustle of the leaves and the soft crackle of the fire. There’s no place
as relaxing as this. I know you guys feel the same way. I can see the
way you relax just like I do while you enjoy the peace and look at the fire. I
love firelight, the way the colors shift so subtly. It’s so soothing. And you
can look at it forever and never get bored with it. You sit here, so relaxed…
and peaceful… and look at the fire. Let all your thoughts… all your tensions
drift away. And relax… relax… relax…” Chip kept careful watch on both Dylan and
Ben, but they showed no awareness or alarm as he shifted from monolog to
hypnotic induction. They simply continued to stare at the flickering campfire,
following hypnotic suggestions that they didn’t realize were hypnotic
suggestions, their eyes growing glassy and fixed, their strong young bodies
gradually slumping into ever more relaxed postures. Finally, as Chip reached
the point where he was suggesting sleep, first Dylan’s heavy eyelids and then,
only a heartbeat later, Ben’s, slid shut and stayed that way. They were
entranced.
Just in
case, Chip said, “Cody-trance.” Now his brother would be back under his
control, whether he had been re-hypnotized by the spiel or not. He began a
complete set of deepening exercises. Within ten minutes the three hypnotized
youths had completely succumbed to their young master, their minds empty of
will or desire, numbly, helplessly, compulsively enslaved by his voice. They
now stood in a row before him, their arms hanging limply at their sides, eyes
closed and chins resting on their chests, utterly defenseless.
Chip
quickly supplied Ben and Dylan with their own trance triggers, ensuring they,
like Cody, would never again truly be free, and then began to play. “Guys,” he
said, “Please recite the Boy Scout pledge.”
“A scout
is…” the three hypnotized voices droned in unison.
When they
reached “obedient”, Chip interrupted, “Yes, a scout is obedient. You are a
scout, aren’t you?” And, again almost as one, the three sleepy boys agreed.
“Repeat ‘a scout is obedient’ and keep repeating it until I give you permission
to stop.” As Ben, Dylan and Cody chanted the phrase over and over like a
mantra, Chip continued, “As you say that, you know it is the truest thing in your
existence. You live to obey me. Nothing else matters but hearing my
commands and following them. You must do, think, feel, be
whatever I tell you to. You can’t resist; you have no desire to resist.
You have no choice. You may stop repeating that phrase now.” The chorus fell
silent.
Chip
looked them over, all so handsome in their scout shirts and jeans, all so
deliciously helpless. “Ben,” he said, “Open your eyes, but don’t wake up… still
deeply hypnotized.” Ben’s lashes fluttered, and then he slowly opened his dark
eyes to stare vacantly at nothing. The fierce intensity of his waking gaze was
gone. He looked younger and incredibly vulnerable. “Look at my brother, Ben,”
Chip instructed. Ben turned until he was facing Cody, still asleep on his feet and
oblivious, and his distracted glance came somewhat back into focus, though his
face remained frozen and blank. “Tell me how he looks to you.”
“Huh…
h’looks…” Ben’s sleepy tongue wasn’t responding very well. “He looks… like
he’s… hypn’tized,” he mumbled.
“Oh,
indeed he is - very hypnotized. Do you think he’s handsome?”
“I… guess…
s’okay.” Ben sounded dully confused, like a frat-boy being asked about the
theory of relativity after two hours at a kegger. It was obvious that he’d
never before considered any guy’s potential in the looks department.
“He’s
extremely good-looking, as you are beginning to notice. But I don’t think you
can really appreciate just how good-looking until he’s nude. Undress
him, Ben, you obedient scout. And Cody, you’ll cooperate with Ben.”
Moving
like a zombie from a fifties B movie, the dark-haired boy began methodically to
unbutton Cody’s shirt. He pulled it from the waistband of the jeans and let it
slide off Cody’s shoulders, down his arms and onto the ground. Cody didn’t open
his eyes or move from his hypnoid stance. Then Ben tugged up the boy’s black
t-shirt, exposing his flat, trim stomach and then his well-toned, nearly
hairless chest. “Co… Cody… lift y’arms,” Ben muttered. The blond dreamily
complied, still not opening his eyes. His head bobbed as Ben pulled the t-shirt
up over it and off, and then dropped once more to rest chin-on-chest. With
detached efficiency, Ben undid Cody’s belt, unzipped his jeans, and then pulled
them and Cody’s underpants down to his ankles. Cody’s five inches of limp cock
flopped out, almost touching Ben’s face. Ignoring it, as well as Cody’s tight,
cute little butt, he proceeded with his assigned task. The shoes were giving
him a little trouble; he couldn’t seem to figure out, in his deeply entranced
fog, how to get Cody’s pants off past them. Seeing his difficulty, Chip (who
had been taking the opportunity to deepen Dylan’s trance, lest he come out of
it from lack of sufficient stimuli) quickly ordered his brother to slip out of
his shoes. It was smooth sailing from there, and in seconds more, Cody, relaxed
and oblivious, stood mother naked in the firelight.
Satisfied
that Dylan was safe to ignore again for a while, Chip put one arm around Ben’s
shoulders in a comradely hug, and then slid his hand down until he was tickling
Ben’s ass-crack. “Ben,” he said, “get an erection.” As if by magic, the front
of Ben’s jeans tented out. “You’re really horny, Ben. You’ve never been this
horny. You’re so hot now, you’d have sex with anything, wouldn’t you – anything
at all?” Ben moaned, the color rising in his handsome face. His hands began to
massage his denim-covered crotch. “You want to touch yourself so badly,
that you just have to take off your clothes. Take them all off, Ben.
You’re desperate to be naked.” Chip released him, and Ben Weiss began to tear
his shirt off as though it were on fire. He wore no undershirt, so his lean,
hard chest, dark and hairy, was instantly on display. His shoes followed
immediately, and he was out of his jeans and boxers quicker than it takes to
describe. He removed his socks awkwardly, already using his right hand to
masturbate his rigid cock, slick and shiny with pre-cum. Chip, correctly
reading the signs of imminent orgasm, quickly added, “You can’t cum, Ben! No matter
how much you pleasure yourself, you can’t cum. The only place you can
cum is in Cody’s ass -nowhere else, no matter what. Do you understand, Ben?”
“Only cum
in Cody’s ass,” Ben panted, jerking himself harder. His dazed eyes fixed
hungrily on Cody.
“Cody is
deeply hypnotized, so he’ll be unable to stop you,” Chip continued, “But in
order to earn the right to command him, you have to suck his cock, first. But
you’re so horny, that you know you’re willing to do that. It’s the only
way you will be able to fuck his ass and cum. And you are desperate to
cum, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yeah,
gotta cum; gotta fuck Cody’s ass!” Ben groaned. Still
masturbating compulsively, he knelt in front of the sleeping blond, and drew
the boy’s soft cock into his mouth, while his other hand reached around Cody to
fondle his butt. Cody’s eyes remained closed, his posture unchanged.
“Cody,”
Chip whispered, “Our friend Ben is giving you a blowjob. This turns you on very
much. You won’t wake up, but you will let him suck you off until you cum. Once
you’ve shot your wad into his mouth, you will be so grateful to him
that, from then on, you’ll do absolutely anything he asks of you, no matter
what, unless it contradicts one of my commands. Got that, Bro?” His
brother’s head nodded heavily before subsiding once more onto his chest, and
his cock firmed to its full seven inches under Ben’s ministrations.
The young
hypnotist then turned to his third entranced victim. He began to stroke the
back of the helpless young scout’s neck as he stood so handsome, pale
and motionless, deep in profound sleep. “Dylan,” he crooned, “In a moment you
will open your eyes. You won’t wake up; instead, you’ll go even deeper into
trance. You will see our friend Ben fucking my brother, both of them totally
under my hypnotic control, and it will be the sexiest thing you’ve ever
imagined… the sexiest thing you’ve ever imagined. You will be incredibly
turned on, and incredibly jealous of them. You’re gonna long to
be controlled too; to be a helpless hypnotized boy-toy slave, a totally
obedient sex-toy, mindlessly willing to let any man have you, any way he wants.
As you watch Ben fuck Cody, you’ll know without the slightest thought,
that this is your dream, your desire, your inescapable destiny. As you watch
them, you’re gonna beg me to take away your mind, your will, your self-control
forever; to turn you into a permanently obedient puppet.” Still caressing the
nape of Dylan’s neck, and repeating suggestions like these over and over, Chip
waited until Cody came in Ben’s mouth with a groan. Then, as his brother bent
over and spread his butt-cheeks in compliance with Ben’s hoarse command, the
young hypnotist ordered Dylan to open his eyes.
The first
thing those beautiful, dazed green eyes took in was the sight of Ben ramming
his boner home into Cody’s ass. Yet, in spite of the vigorous pounding Cody was
receiving, the spellbound blond boy still had his eyes closed, and his face was
empty of any reaction. Dylan drew in his breath with a harsh gasp of pure lust,
and his cock sprang to attention in his pants. Chip could feel, like a stove
heating up, the temperature begin rise on the back of Dylan’s neck.
“Look at
them,” Chip urged, his mouth so close to Dylan’s ear that his breath tickled
it. “They are so hypnotized. My brother Cody has no awareness of
anything but that cock that is plowing him. His mind, his whole existence,
is just to be a convenience to other guys. And Ben has become a fuck-machine,
an automated pleasure tool. Isn’t it the hottest thing you’ve ever seen?”
“Oh, God,
yeah,” Dylan moaned, his hands clutching spastically at the mound in his jeans.
“Isn’t
that what you want? To let all of your identity go and become nothing but sex?
To be mine to use and control?”
The dark
Irish Adonis was moaning even louder now. His hands were all over himself, and
he had begun to grind his ass against Chip. “Oh, please,” he gasped, “Do it!
Take me! Make me whatever you want. I have to be your slave, please!!!”
Chip
grinned darkly. “Remember what you are saying. You are giving everything up to
me. You feel it happening as I speak. Your will, your mind, your memories, and
your thoughts are mine now. You are emptying yourself of everything but my
will. You can never leave my hypnotic control. Now become nothing but sex. Be
my slave… be my slave… be my slave! Slave, cum now!!!” and Chip stuck
his tongue into Dylan’s ear. Dylan howled and shot his wad into his pants. Then
he stood still, the cum-stain spreading at his crotch. His handsome face was so
perfectly blank and empty of personality that it could have been that of a
plaster mannequin.
Chip, now
that his attention was not so narrowly focused, quickly realized that Ben had
orgasmed as well. He and Cody were now motionless, still joined cock-in-ass, waiting
for their next commands. A quick “sleep” from the young hypnotist, and they
subsided in a sticky heap of tangled limbs, where they lay, snoring peacefully.
Chip tore off his own clothes and, his erection bobbing before him, turned back
to the beautiful Dylan-statue.
“Kneel
down and suck your master’s cock, slave,” Chip commanded. Dylan sank gracefully
to his knees. Like an animatronic robot of a boy scout, he slid Chip’s dick
between his lips and began to service it, his expression as serene and detached
as a porcelain mask. Chip ran his fingers through Dylan’s short, glossy black
hair and guided his bobbing head into the rhythm he wanted. The young hypnotist
was in heaven. He realized that, as much as he had longed for sex with this
oh-so-handsome, popular boy, he had wanted power over them all even
more. The utter subjugation of Dylan’s personality was satisfying him as much
as the blowjob. And there was something about the fact that his helpless friend
was still wearing (and dishonoring) his scout uniform that Chip found to be
deliciously depraved. He fucked the unresisting mouth even harder. Dylan gave a
couple of soft gagging noises, but made no attempt to get away from the
punishing rod. Soon, his throat had adjusted and his sucking returned to its
mechanical perfection.
By the
time Chip finally came, he was rutting like a beast, shaking the unresisting
Dylan to and fro, fucking him for the physical joy of it, fucking him for the
rush of making this straight stud submit, fucking him for the vindication of
all his self-doubts and self-hatred about being gay. A monster had been
created! Chip shot his wad, laughing almost hysterically as it overflowed his
slave’s mouth. He roughly smeared the cum all over Dylan’s vacant face, making
sure, in particular, that the hypnotized scout was well-anointed around his
lips and under his nose. “Learn your master’s taste, learn his smell, slave.
This is the only thing in your thoughts, the only thing in your existence: to
serve your master. You smell this smell and it makes you feel sexy. You taste
this, and it satisfies you as no other taste can.” Dylan’s damp pants again
slowly began to tent, but otherwise there was no visible reaction.
Chip
gathered up his clothes and got himself dressed again. Then he commanded,
“Cody, Ben, Dylan, get up and stand facing me.” The three boys obeyed, Dylan,
disheveled and cum-stained, staring blankly at nothing, and Ben and Cody, still
naked, their eyes remaining closed. The young hypnotist made them review their
trance triggers, carefully reinforcing each of them one more time. Then he
embarked on the truly wicked part of his plot. “When I awaken you, you will
know that I hypnotized you. You’ll remember everything I made you do and
feel. But you won’t be able to do a thing about it! You won’t be able to
hurt me or attempt revenge, nor will you be able to harm yourselves; you won’t
be able to tell anyone about what I’ve done to you; you won’t be able to avoid
me – we’ll continue to hang out as friends. And most importantly, you won’t
be able to avoid my control over you. You’ll let me re-hypnotize you at any
time, and in any place I want to, and you won’t try to resist. And, even when
you aren’t in trance, if I tell you to do something and add the phrase
‘obedient scout’, you’ll be helplessly compelled to obey my instruction, no
matter what it may be. Now, repeat all of that, so that you know you can’t
disobey.” The three sleepy young scouts dutifully pronounced their own doom.
Chip
continued, “Ben and Cody, when you wake up, the first thing you will do is to
have sex with each other all over again. I think this time Cody should fuck
Ben. It won’t matter that you won’t want to. You’ll find you can’t stop
yourselves. And when we’re home, it’s going to happen again and again, just as
if you were lovers. This is your sign of obedience to me. Dylan, when we get
back to town, you’re gonna change your college plans. You’re going to ________
State with me. We’ll room together, because we must in order for you to be able
to continue your service as my toy-boy slave. And, Dylan, your sign of
obedience when you wake up will be to take off your clothes and lick my shoes.
A slave doesn’t wear clothing in his master’s presence unless they are out in
public, or he’s given permission. All of you, repeat your orders.” This time,
the response was a confused babble as each boy rehearsed his personal
instructions.
“Now I’m
going to count up to five, and you’ll wake up. You’ll wake up, just as I have
said, to your new lives as my puppets. One, two three, four, and five.”
Ben and Cody’s
eyes flew open, and Dylan’s snapped back into horrified focus. All three young
men went almost chalk-white. “Oh my God,” Ben whispered, but then his words
were cut off as Cody, shaking with fear and embarrassment, grabbed him in a
full-contact embrace and stuffed his tongue into Ben’s mouth. Dylan retched,
but his hands were already busy removing his soiled uniform. In only a few
seconds, he was as bare as the other two and had knelt to bathe Chip’s hiking
boots with his tongue, muttering curses in between licks. Chip’s laughter was
perhaps the most evil sound ever heard in those woods.
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