Disclaimer: This story contains adult material concerning erotic hypnosis and male/male sexual activity. If you are not of legal age for your community, or if such material is offensive to you, you do not have permission to read this. It is fictional. No resemblance to actual persons or events is intended, nor may any such be inferred. You may download this for your personal enjoyment, but it may not be shown to minors, nor re-posted without the author’s consent.

Party Favors

By

Hyptrance

   Ever since he’d seen the ad in the local paper, Jeremy Hart had wanted the job so badly he could taste it. To be on stage, to travel, and to get paid for it, would be a dream come true. And it would sure beat the hell out of finding a waiter position in one of the local eateries, or going back home for yet another summer as a gopher in his dad’s company. He had fired off his materials immediately, and then waited on tenterhooks for a response, praying that he’d at least make the cut for an interview. Jeremy knew that his photo would attract attention from anyone hired to screen applications. Casual, yet both sexy and a little mysterious, it showed off his dark, sleek hair, his teen-idol-pretty (if he did say it himself) face, and most especially, his slim, sensual body, trained to perfection by countless hours at the gym and in the dance classes he took almost compulsively, to their best possible advantage. Male or female, gay or straight, they’d notice him all right! The experience angle, however, was more of a problem. (Yes, the ad had said it was a plus rather than a requirement, but he knew better than to take that at face value.) Jeremy was a theater major at _________ State, and although, like every aspiring actor anywhere, he was sure he had what it takes, he couldn’t prove it by roles won, or performances given. His resume showed employment only in non-theatrical jobs (such as the summer work for his dad), while his acting credits (“If you could call them that,” he thought wryly) were a few parts in high school and then spear carrying and understudying since coming to college. They just didn’t give plum assignments to 19-year-old sophomores, no matter how handsome or self-assured. No, the job was by no means in the bag, unless he could make it to the talking stage, where his personal charm might sway the balance. In the meantime, the suspense was agony.

   Jeremy thought that the phone ringing was one of the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard. Well, actually, he only thought that after the fact. His initial response was annoyance, since he’d gotten to bed late the night before, and the call woke him up. However, the first words out of the caller’s mouth erased his ill temper completely. “Mr. Hart? This is Caroline Welles from Hypno-Fantastic Productions. Mr. Delany would like to interview you for an assistant position.”

   “Ms. Welles! I’m so happy to be hearing from you. I really would like this job, and I’m sure that I could do whatever it demands to Mr. Delany’s complete satisfaction. What times would be available for me to come in?” Jeremy cautioned himself not to sound too manic, but he was so excited that it was proving very difficult.

   “We’re interested in moving ahead with this as soon as possible. Could you be here at 1:00 tomorrow afternoon?” She gave an address.

   Thinking, “Try and stop me!” Jeremy said, “That would work very well. I’ll see you then.” He wasn’t actually free at that time; he’d told Valerie Lowell that they could go to the movies. But the arrangement had been fairly casual, and since she wasn’t a serious girlfriend, he didn’t feel bad about canceling.

   When Jeremy arrived at the office suite of the production company, his spirits plummeted. There was another young man seated in one of the chairs, obviously also waiting for an appointment. He was blond, a little punkily exotic (like a featured dancer in an MTV video), every bit as good-looking as Jeremy, and patently serious competition. The Jeremy eyed the other young man dubiously, and then looked to the receptionist, his eyes questioning.

   She smiled warmly. “Hello, I’m Caroline Welles. And you must be Jeremy Hart. Please have a seat over there with Mr. Perry. Mr. Delany will be ready for you both shortly.” Then she announced his arrival into the intercom.

   Jeremy went to the indicated chair, feeling rather confused. ‘Both?’ He turned to the blond young man and introduced himself.

   “Austin Perry,” the other boy replied, shaking his hand. Then, reading Jeremy’s expression correctly, he added, “I already asked. Delany’s interviewing prospective assistants in pairs. It has something to do with trying our onstage chemistry apparently, so you and I aren’t in competition, or at least not directly. He’s checking us out as a team.” Austin grinned engagingly.

   Just then the door to the inner room opened and the hypnotist emerged. “Mr. Hart, Mr. Perry, I’m Gage Delany. Would you come in, please? Caroline, no calls.” As they got to their feet, each shook the man’s offered hand, and then followed him into the inner office, Jeremy was thinking, “God, he’s so young! I’ll bet he doesn’t have ten years on me! How the hell did he become successful so quickly?”

   Jeremy and Austin took seats facing Gage’s desk. Jeremy noticed that the chairs were particularly deep and soft, feeling impressed at the obvious luxury. The hypnotist quickly outlined the parameters of the upcoming tour: the number of venues, number of performances per venue, amount of time off while on the road, and, of course, their duties. The boys would be setting up the stage before and between shows, handling props, and facilitating crowd management (i.e. dealing with the volunteer subjects to avoid bottlenecks or accidents). All of it sounded quite reasonable, and not particularly taxing. “The two of you are definitely my first choices for these positions. None of the other applicants seemed nearly as promising in terms of either stage experience or charisma.” (At that Jeremy had to force down his eyebrows, which were trying to rise in astonishment. What was the guy talking about? Charisma, okay! But experience? Had the rest of the applicants been office workers?) “There is, however, one other important duty you must perform from time to time, and that’s the real reason for this interview. I’m afraid it has to be a deal breaker if you aren’t up to it,” Gage said. Both boys nodded expectantly. The hypnotist continued, “It’s an unavoidable reality about stage hypnosis that the quality of the show depends entirely on the quality of the people who volunteer to participate. Unfortunately, there’s no way to guarantee that quality from any given audience. So, at those shows where there aren’t enough good hypnotic subjects in evidence, the two of you will have to be put into trance to provide the entertainment. That means, since I refuse to stoop to faking my show, you both have to be high-hypnotizables, capable of deep trance state and somnambulistic activity. How about it? Are you willing to let me hypnotize you now to test your abilities?”

   Jeremy and Austin looked at each other. Their faces mirrored the same thoughts: This was certainly weird enough. However, both young men were not only really eager for the jobs, but possessed of adventurous spirits and a healthy curiosity, so in short order they gave their consent.

   Gage instructed them to relax, lean back in the comfortable chairs, and close their eyes, and then he began a standard progressive relaxation induction, his voice as smooth and rich as honey dripping from a jar. At first, Jeremy felt as though he were just playing along. It all seemed so theatrical, a little silly and vaguely embarrassing. But he did his best to follow (or at least seem to be following) all the instructions, and gradually he began to notice that certain things seemed to be changing in his perception. The room had grown much quieter. He was no longer conscious of the faint sounds of traffic filtering in through the closed window, or of Caroline’s typing in the outer office. The only sound that was reaching him was the hypnotist’s soft voice. And his body was feeling very peculiar. It had relaxed, just as Gage had been saying it would, but more than that, it was as though he could no longer quite feel himself, as though he were floating, unable to be totally certain what position his limbs were occupying. The texture of the chair’s upholstery, even the surety of up and down had faded from his awareness. He began to drift helplessly, faster and faster, into a dizzying void that sucked away his thoughts and will, plunging him into fathomless darkness…

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

  Jeremy realized that his eyes were open. What had just happened? He stretched lazily, feeling like he’d been asleep for hours, and looked over at Austin, who was lolled in his chair, looking similarly befuddled. “Did… uh… were we…?” Jeremy tried to shake the cobwebs from his muddled brain.

   “Yes, you were hypnotized.” Gage smiled. “You are both excellent subjects. The jobs are yours if you want them.” He then made a salary offer, somewhat higher than the minimum guaranteed in the ad. They shook on it, and the hypnotist sent them out to sign the contracts Caroline had been typing up, saying, “Rehearsals start the Monday before we leave. I’ll see you here at 9:00.”

   Jeremy and Austin left the office together, high-fiving each other gleefully in the elevator. Jeremy thought, “This is going to be so cool!” Then, as the blond boy preceded him through the door out onto the street he thought fleetingly, “He’s got a nice ass.” It never occurred to the young actor that this was the first time he’d ever checked out another guy.

   “No, no, no! The blue light has to be on an independent switch. If the rest of the lights go on at the same time, it’ll startle everybody out of any possibility of being receptive.” Gage was talking animatedly to a dark-haired, muscular young guy in western-style jeans (the show techie, Jeremy guessed), when the two young actors arrived on the specified Monday to begin their training. There was also present another young man, also good-looking, boyish and blond (although not in the flashy, rock star mold of Austin), He was standing at the far side of the room, reading what could have been contracts or theater specs with great absorption. Caroline Welles was nowhere in evidence.

   As soon as the hypnotist noted their arrival, he broke off his conversation. “Greetings, guys. Now we’re all here. Jeremy, Austin, these gentlemen are TJ Colton, our technical guru and driver, and Scott Spears, who does the camera work for the CDs we sell after each performance. TJ, Scotty, Jeremy Hart and Austin Perry, the on-stage talent.”

   The men shook hands all round, and then Gage got down to business. He talked Jeremy and Austin through the basic show, explaining the timing of various segments, where they would need to position themselves to facilitate traffic and present the necessary props on schedule, yet avoid blocking the video sightlines, and describing their expected response in a variety of situations both likely and unlikely. They learned how to watch for shammers among the volunteers (those people, usually guys, who only pretend to go under so that they can cut up behind the hypnotist’s back), and how to spot inadvertent genuine trances among the non-volunteering audience members (also how to call them to the hypnotist’s attention without waking them up). Gage described all of his various skits, as well as which props (if any) they required. It was a lot of information, but Jeremy found it all logical enough, and also, there was something about the hypnotist’s delivery that made it a snap to concentrate on what he was saying and remember it. A quick sideways glance showed him that Austin and the other two guys were listening with equally rapt attention. But then Jeremy almost immediately forgot about them again. It was, he thought, sort of like when Delany had been hypnotizing him. He really wasn’t aware of anything but the hypnotist. Now Gage was talking about the inductions he used. When had he started that? He was on something about “your hand rising to touch your face”, and then, “getting sleepier…” It was harder to concentrate now… so relaxed… hard to think… A blurry something slowly approached Jeremy’s eyes as they began to slide shut. Dimly, he realized that it was his own hand, although he couldn’t seem to control, or even really feel its motion. Then his limp thumb brushed his forehead, and he knew no more…

   Gage Delany looked down at his four helpless, totally entranced employees and began their real training session.

   “Good show, guys.” Jeremy blinked as he came to himself. They were into the third week of the tour, and this matinee had been one of several already where Gage had made use of his assistants’ easy hypnotizability to augment the cast. Sometimes Jeremy found himself wondering just what it took for the hypnotist to consider it an adequate group, since it seemed as though Delany found one excuse or another to trance him and Austin well more than half the time.

   Looking down at himself, Jeremy realized that he was now bare-chested. “What did you have us doing up there, Gage?” he asked. Jeremy never recalled what went on while he was under.

   “Nothing that would get us all in trouble with the local League of Decency,” the hypnotist chuckled. “You guys just aren’t very shy about stripping down when you feel too hot. It was the standard “the temperature’s rising” gimmick, and I had to stop the bit early on, because ol’ Austin here was getting ready to ditch his pants as well!” Gage nodded at the blond, also shirtless. He cagily neglected to mention some of the other, more risqué uses to which he’d put the two boys while he had them at his command. The audience had been treated to the sight of Jeremy and Austin both making love passionately to their chairs (again, that suggestion being cut short just before it would have become obscene), and then, as a climax, slow-dancing together (still naked to the waist) each under the spellbound impression that the other was a very desirable woman. There had been a lot of rubbing and PG-rated groping going on, and the crowd had laughed itself silly.

   Of course all of this was actually just a pretext for the hypnotist to keep reinforcing and deepening his control over the young men. Gage Delany was paid quite handsomely for his stage performances, but that wasn’t how he made his real money. Tonight, his boys (all four of them – the hypnotist worked on and reinforced his other two unwitting slaves in individual sessions, since he had no plausible grounds for hypnotizing them publicly on a regular basis) would really begin to earn their keep. “Guys, after the show tonight, we’re all invited to a private reception one of the local men’s clubs is throwing. I don’t know what sort of spread this particular group will put on, but usually the food and liquor at these things is great! In any case, I am asking you to be there, because they may want me to do an impromptu demo, and I don’t want to be stuck trying to get a bunch of drunken Elks or Moose or whatever the hell they are to concentrate hard enough to go into trance. You guys will be my ace in the hole. Got that?”

   “Sure, boss.” Jeremy had been about to say that he was too tired, and would rather skip the late reception this time, but the words ‘got that?’ knocked the thought right out of his head. Gage’s request suddenly seemed perfectly reasonable, and he found that he was in just the mood for a party.

   After that evening’s show (in which, once again, Jeremy and Austin had been the star participants, although this time, by Gage’s sneaky pre-arrangement they had been joined by Scotty when he went into “spontaneous” trance while filming), the five men piled into a limo, and TJ drove them to the party. Jeremy was glad that he didn’t have to drive; he was still feeling very relaxed and fuzzy, as though he hadn’t come all the way out of his trance. By the looks of it, Austin and Scott were more than a little spacey too.

   TJ turned into the front gate, and let out a low whistle. They were on a lengthy carriage-drive leading up to the largest mansion Jeremy had ever seen. “Man, how did people get money like this?” he thought to himself, and made a (rather slow) mental note to try his best not to gawk like a country cousin. The limo pulled up to the massive front door, and they disembarked, TJ handing the keys to a handsome teenager in a snappy tuxedo who was waiting for them, hand outstretched.

   “Well, boys, welcome to how the other half lives,” Gage said softly. “You all go in and get yourselves something to eat. I want to have a word with that valet.” He walked over to the kid, stopping him just as he was about to get into the car, and began to say something to him in a low voice.

   Jeremy rang the doorbell, and he and his three companions were admitted by a tall, dignified man (probably in his late forties, Jeremy guessed) dressed in an understated, but obviously very expensive designer suit. “Welcome, gentlemen!” he said. “I’m Ryan Fairbourn, current president of the _________ Society, and your host this evening. You, of course, must be Gage Delany’s party. I’m afraid I haven’t been able to attend the show as yet, but I’ve heard very interesting things about it. By the way, where is Gage? I had assumed you would all arrive together.”

   After a short, mildly awkward pause, it became apparent to Jeremy that he had somehow been elected spokesman for the group. “Mr. Delany did come with us,’ he answered. “He stayed outside to have a word with the parking valet. I guess he’s feeling nervous about his limousine.”

   “Oh, ho. So he’s stopped to have a chat with young Jimmy Bishop, has he? Interesting... Well, no doubt he’ll be in soon. Please help yourselves to whatever you wish to eat and drink. I’m sure we’ll be talking again later,” and with a casual wave of his hand, indicating buffet and bar, Ryan turned and moved on to talk to a small group of power-suited executive types standing nearby, presumably other members of the ________ Society.

   Jeremy couldn’t make any sense out of Fairbourn’s reaction to the news that Gage was talking with the valet. What was ‘interesting’ about that? Dismissing it from his mind, he went to the bar (where TJ, Scott, and Austin were already in position) and soon was happily occupied with a pint of a very nice microbrew.

   It was more than twenty minutes later (and Jeremy, in response to Austin’s sotto voce complaint, had just come to realize that there wasn’t one single woman present among the entire gathering), when applause filled the room. He turned to look, and saw that Gage had at last made his entrance, with the young parking valet in tow. If there was one thing Jeremy was beginning to recognize, after working for a hypnotist for three weeks, it was how people looked and acted when they had been placed in a trance. And unless he very much missed his guess, that valet kid was hypnotized as shit. “Now why had Delany bothered to zap the car-jockey?” he wondered to himself.

   Gage Delany signaled for quiet. “Gentlemen,” he said, “I’m delighted to be here this evening, and I thank you all for this elegant spread. I’m sure that nothing has been overlooked for a satisfying evening’s entertainment, but when I saw young Mr. Bishop, I couldn’t resist. So please consider him as just a little extra ‘thank you’ added to the festivities.”

   There was a smattering of applause, but Ryan Fairbourn stepped forward, looking a little concerned. “The original entertainment will still proceed as planned?” he half asked, half insisted.

   “Of course,” the hypnotist answered with a bland smile. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Bishop here will help out, won’t you, Jimmy?”

   “Yes, master…” The boy stood as blank and stiff as a clothes dummy.

   Jeremy almost choked on his beer. “Yes, master”?! What the hell was that shit?!

   “You see,” Gage continued to his fascinated audience, “Jimmy is a very special young man. He has the ability to channel my hypnotic influence. Now that I have him deeply hypnotized, anyone who looks into his eyes will catch the trance from him. No matter how hard they try to resist, they won’t be able to look away from his spellbound gaze until they too are completely in my power. Allow me to demonstrate… TJ, would you come over here for a moment?”

   The four at the bar exchanged mystified glances. What the hell was Gage playing at? This was nuts! But at the hypnotist’s further urging, the muscular young tech got up from his barstool and swaggered over. “You do know this can’t possibly work,” he chuckled.

   Delany chuckled as well. “Humor me. Now look into Jimmy’s eyes.” TJ complied.

   From across the room, Jeremy was trying not to giggle out loud. This was so ridiculous! There was no way just staring at the gonzo kid could put TJ under. No way at all! No way in… Suddenly it occurred to him that the tech hadn’t moved a muscle since he first locked eyes with the hypnotized valet, and that TJ’s handsome face was growing just as slack and blank as the kid’s. No fuckin’ way!!! Jeremy’s jaw dropped open in astonishment, but it had become obvious that the tech was out on his feet, a newly minted hypno-zombie from nothing more than contagion.

   “TJ, are you hypnotized now?” Gage asked softly.

   “Yes,” came the sleepy drone… and then a second later, “…master…” It sounded as though TJ had tried not to say that, and failed.

   The applause that greeted this was much stronger than before, but the hypnotist again signaled for silence. “Now with two guys under control, let’s see if we can’t make it four. Scotty, Austin, front and center!”

   Scott actually looked a little worried, but he slid off his stool and reluctantly approached the hypnotist. Jeremy put his hand on Austin’s arm, as though to try to dissuade him, but Austin just gave him a cocky grin and whispered, “Don’t worry, it has to be a fake. I’ll just go along with it, the way TJ is doing. We’re being paid for this, ya know!” The blond stage assistant strode confidently over to Delany, passing Scott en route.

   The hypnotist waited until both of his new victims were shoulder to shoulder in front of him. Then he quickly turned the nervous young cameraman to face TJ, and drew the sleepwalking Jimmy around until he was directly in front of Austin. As before, and to Jeremy’s even greater astonishment, both his remaining co-workers froze in an instant. The cocky, self-confident expression was wiped right off his Austin’s face, to be replaced with one of stunned capitulation, while Scott was staring at TJ like a bird mesmerized by a snake, the fear still present on his face, as though he were desperate to free himself, but unable (although that distress was quickly draining away, leaving a vacuous blankness in its wake).

   In the intervening moments before Scott and Austin each said his mindless ‘yes, master’ in response to Gage’s question, Jeremy figured out what was going on. “He set us up!” he realized. “Either this is a post-hypnotic suggestion, or we’re still hypnotized from tonight’s show. He must have gotten to TJ some other way. What the hell is he up to?” He was no longer able to view this as a harmless party game. There was something too shady about the sneakiness of the whole set-up. Jeremy slipped quietly off his stool, already planning his escape, when the hypnotist turned towards him and simply crooked his finger, beckoning. In that one instant, the young actor was suddenly no longer in command of himself. Jeremy tried to throw himself backwards, to grab onto something to stay his progress, to say something, anything, even to beg, but, like a passenger in his own body, he could only watch in helpless horror as his legs slowly walked him over to join the others.

   Delany addressed his audience again. “Once I have Jeremy back in deep trance, you may begin your games. In consideration of the rather handsome sum you have all ponied up for my Swiss account, once I’ve given them the proper cue, these boys will do whatever you want them to do, either with you, or with each other. The only limitation will be that you don’t damage them,” he smiled with suave evil, “as there are many more stops on the tour after this one.” The hypnotist then unceremoniously ordered, “Jeremy, look into Austin’s eyes.”

   “No, I can’t… I won’t… I… I have to fight him… to… to…” his thoughts scrabbled like a rat in a cage. Jeremy tried so hard to throw off the compulsion that he began to shake, but in spite of his efforts he found himself eye to eye with his friend’s vacant stare. His eyelids froze. Faster than ever before, he felt that distant, floating sensation, the one he associated with impending trance, develop throughout his body. Jeremy quickly lost all awareness of anything except Austin’s eyes, and his consciousness, along with his will, swirled into the emptiness of that mesmerized gaze like water down a drain.

   “Jeremy, are you hypnotized?” The voice rolled like thunder through his empty, echoing mind.

   There was only one possible response. “Yes, master.”

   Gage patted the helpless boy on the head. “Of course you are. Very well. Jimmy Bishop, TJ Colton, Scott Spears, Austin Perry, and Jeremy Hart, you will take off your clothes now. This is a party, and you are all… party favors!” At the sound of the trigger phrase, the young men, still blank-faced, robot-like instantly began to strip, and the hungry crowd surged up to claim them.

   Jeremy cracked one eye open. He was in bed in his motel room. He tried to remember getting back after the reception, going to bed, but couldn’t. Stirrings from the other bed indicated that Austin was awake, too. Jeremy turned to look over at him, and was greeted by a very unhappy, confused expression.

   “Christ,” Austin moaned, “How much did I drink last night? I can’t remember a fuckin’ thing! My mouth tastes like I swabbed down the men’s room with my tongue and my back aches like I tried to bench-press a buffalo!”

   “Don’t ask me,” Jeremy sighed, “I don’t remember anything either. We must have cleaned that bar right out. My head doesn’t hurt, thank God, but I know what you mean about the taste in your mouth. I bet my breath would wilt plants. And that spicy food they like down here is really getting to me. My asshole is burning!!”

   When Jeremy and Austin dragged themselves down to the motel restaurant, they found Scotty and TJ already there, in a sorry state, nursing large cups of black coffee and palpable hangovers. Only the hypnotist, when he turned up, seemed chipper. Gage looked his crew over. “Rough night on the tiles, eh, guys?” Then he grinned. “We have a matinee in less than three hours. Better let ol’ Gage hypnotize you and make it all better.”

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