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. This story refers (at least in passing) to a large number of characters from previous Tom LeBlanc stories. Not being familiar with them shouldn’t materially affect your enjoyment of this tale, but if you’re curious about who’s who, or what (I imagine) they look like, check out “Sleepy Boy”, “Leo Gets Lucky”, and “Hypnotized by Proxy” for more background and physical descriptions.

To (Protect and) Serve

(A Tom LeBlanc Story for Omelissokomos, who likes police)

by

Hyptrance

   Tom LeBlanc grinned with satisfaction as he watched Ken Turner, brand-new Kappa, finally give up his useless struggle. The cute freshman boy let out a quiet little sigh, his fluttering eyelids closed for good, and his lithe, muscular body slumped in helpless trance. Tom began the necessary steps to send Ken deep enough that he would be unable to withstand any of the hypnotist’s suggestions, no matter how bizarre. There was no doubt in Tom’s mind that he’d get him there.

   Ever since the hypnotist had gotten access to the fraternity (through his enslavement of Brett Stuyvesant), he’d chipped away at the membership (even those brothers he had no particular interest in) until they were all slaves in his hypno-stable. As a result, Tom was in a position to call all the shots as far as this chapter’s policy and events were concerned. Under the guise of presenting an evening’s entertainment, he’d been able to check out all the pledges for suggestibility, and then see to it that no young man who wasn’t both very attractive and highly hypnotizable made it as far as the initiation. Ken was the last of the newly initiated pledge members to succumb this evening. The rest had already been placed back under the hypnotist’s spell. Shortly after the initiation ceremony, during the raucous party that the active brothers (at Tom’s post-hypnotic prompting) were maintaining on the ground floor of the frat house as a cover for the real purpose of the evening, he’d taken each of the new boys aside separately (without drawing attention to it), entranced him as deeply as possible, and then reawakened him and sent him back downstairs to join the others. Jason Latimer, Craig Scott, Andrew Klein, and Matt Lindhurst, drinking, laughing and engaging in horseplay with their new frat brothers, were now completely programmed, but unaware of it.

   Soon, classically handsome, dark-haired Ken had been programmed with his own personal re-induction cue as well as the general one Tom could use to control the whole frat at a moment’s notice, and was so totally mind-fucked from the hypnotist’s insidious manipulations that his ability to choose or resist was utterly destroyed.

   “Ken, remain deeply hypnotized, but stand up and open your eyes.” Like a mechanical doll, the young man complied. Tom placed his hand on the boy’s firmly muscled shoulder and gazed compellingly into those vacantly staring eyes. “You have an important mission,” the hypnotist continued. “You must go downstairs. When you reach the party, you’ll clap your hands loudly to draw everyone’s attention, and then you will say, in a loud clear voice, ‘Frat-boys, front and center’. This will turn your fraternity brothers back into hypnotized statues. As soon as you can see that they’re all in trance, you too will cease to move, your mind a complete blank until I give you further instructions.” After making certain Ken was clear on these instructions, Tom sent him off. His dick hardened with anticipation as he watched the boy depart, rigid and zombie-like, his tight little butt flexing with each slow, dreamy step.

    The hypnotist listened, and moments later he heard the sound of a sharp handclap, and then Ken’s voice speaking the trigger phrase. Although Tom was too far away to hear the actual words, the sexy, mesmerized inflection of the young male voice, and then, seconds later, the cessation of all sounds in the house other than the CD player, assured him of the total success of his gambit. Tom’s cock twitched with a pulse of sheer pleasure at the thought, and he trotted down the stairs to view the results.

   It was like walking into a sculpture garden, or perhaps the fairy-tale castle of the sleeping beauty. Everywhere in the main room of the frat house there were handsome, motionless, deeply entranced young men – standing, sitting, singly, in twos, in threes, eyes closed, faces blank, heads drooping, bodies frozen in a wide variety of activities – all fast in spellbound sleep. Eric Mallory and Alan Gorlowski (Tom still couldn’t look at them without thinking of the cast of Smallville) must have been roughhousing. Eric was pressed up against Alan from behind, his arms wrapped around the handsome blond boy’s waist, but in his trance-induced relaxation, his head had fallen forward to rest on Alan’s shoulder, with the face nestled into his neck, and his limp hands had slid down to rest against Alan’s crotch. The two boys looked as though they’d been frozen while making out. The remaining four newly inducted brothers had apparently been involved in some sort of drinking contest. Jason, Matt, and Craig were facing Andrew, all holding glasses of beer. Andrew’s glass was frozen at his lips in the classic position of chugging, and his shirtfront and jeans were sopping wet from the beer that had drained down un-noticed as he suddenly slept. Fortunately, his mouth had closed rather than opening wider, or else he might have choked. The funniest statue was Angel. Tom could picture what must have happened: the sexy young Latino, responding to some good-natured taunt or other, had grabbed his crotch in the universal “eat me” gesture just as the fatal trigger phrase stopped him in his tracks. Now the hypnotized boy was stuck in that position, to all appearances offering himself as blatantly as a hustler in a back alley.

   Already planning who he would have do what to whom, the hypnotist walked over to the sound system and shut it off. He repeated the trigger phrase, not so much because any of the totally entranced frat boys needed it, but just to transfer their attention to him. Then he ordered them to come to him. All over the room the frozen poses relaxed, and then the helpless young men shuffled over to stand in a group around him, their faces expressionless. Tom quickly sent the few guys whom he didn’t fancy upstairs to sleep, oblivious of what was in store for their fellow Kappas.

   When only the handsome brothers remained, he said, “You are way too hot. You have to take off all your clothes as quickly as you can in order to be more comfortable. Go ahead and undress now.” The lads all obediently began to shed their gear, and Tom was soon surrounded by an incredible array of sexy, totally hypnotized bare bodies. He glanced appreciatively at the five new brothers (the only ones he hadn’t seen naked before), noting with a low whistle of surprised admiration, that baby-faced, blond Matt, so wholesomely innocent of appearance, had been concealing the dick of death, and it was pierced! The hypnotist continued, “I’m going to begin to count. Each number you hear will do two things to you: you will become much more deeply hypnotized, and you will become aroused. Each number hypnotizes you and turns you on, more and more and more, until, at the count of ten, you’ll be so sex-crazy that you’ll all have to start getting it on with each other, and so deep in trance that you won’t even be aware of what you’re doing. No resistance will be possible, and you’ll continue to orgy until I tell you otherwise. If you cum, you’ll just keep on servicing your brothers until your cock is ready to be hard again. Do you understand?” A mesmerized chorus of yeses answered him. “Very good, gentlemen. One… two… deeper and deeper… three… hornier and hornier… four…” By now the frat boys had full erections, and were beginning to squirm. “Five… so sleepy, so sexy… six…” Ken, Andrew, Craig, Brett, and Cameron had all begun masturbating, and the rest looked as though they would be starting any second. “Seven… eigh…” There was an insistent knock at the door. Swearing silently, Tom quickly commanded, “Freeze and sleep! You won’t think or hear anything until I say ‘frat boys, front and center’ again.”

  Without waiting to see how his hypnotized slaves reacted, Tom headed for the entrance foyer of the house, thinking, “Now, who the hell could this be?” The room filled with naked, priapic Kappas wouldn’t be visible from the door, but if he couldn’t get rid of this unwelcome caller quickly, the guys would lapse into sleep, and he’d have to start all over. And if whoever-it-was insisted upon being admitted to the house, then the shit really would hit the fan! The hypnotist flung open the door, but his testy “What!” died unspoken on his lips, and his heart dropped into his shoes. Standing in the doorway was a cop! And what a cop! Tom’s eye-level only reached the officer’s collar. The guy had to be at least six-four, and his muscles were so huge that his shirt looked ready to rip apart if he were to inhale too deeply. Under better circumstances, the hypnotist would have been drooling, but as it was, all he could think of was what those muscles could do by way of taking him to pieces if the cop figured out what was going on.

   Stage training enabling him to conceal his discomfort, Tom assumed his blandest friendly demeanor and said, “Hello, Officer…” (a quick glance at the nametag pinned on the massive chest) “…Castle. What can I do for you?” He made sure that his eye contact was direct but not confrontational, at the same time taking his first real look at the policeman’s face. Damn but this guy was hot! He looked a lot like the actor Josh Duhamel, whom the hypnotist had so regretfully been forced to release from his thrall after only one brief hypnotic encounter. That boyish cuteness was definitely Tom’s favorite flavor, and the tight uniform was the perfect icing on the cake.

   “Your neighbors are complaining about the noise.”

   Tom lifted his eyebrows expressively, since, with all the frat boys motionless in their spellbound sleep and the sound system turned off, it was, quite obviously, perfectly quiet.

   Officer Kirk Castle suddenly grinned disarmingly. “Oh, I know it’s silent as the tomb now. But when I was here at State, I was Kappa myself. We always posted a watch on party nights to kill the stereo just in case of complaints. I still have to come in and read the guys their official warning. Hey, it’s either that or write you all up, and I don’t want the house to get in that kind of trouble.”

   SHIT! Tom somehow maintained his pleasant expression, but inside he was swearing a blue streak. What the fuck was he going to do?! He could see past the policeman that there was only one PD motorcycle parked at the curb, so at least the cop was by himself – no back-up to deal with. Well, the desperate hypnotist reasoned, he’d just have to hypnotize the guy. He really had no other choice. If he didn’t try or if he tried and failed, either way he was dog meat. Stepping back to allow the policeman to enter, Tom said, “Okay, come on in and get it over with. By the way, I’m Tom LeBlanc.”

   They instruct policemen never to let someone they don’t know take hold of them, and Officer Castle should have listened. But social conditioning was stronger, and, coupled with his own innate friendliness, it caught him before he could think better of it. He reached unhesitatingly for the hypnotist’s outstretched hand. However, instead of the expected handshake, he suddenly found himself staring at his own palm as Tom performed the classic physical sleight-of-hand that begins an interrupted handshake induction. The theory is that the conscious mind is so programmed to regard a handshake as one single indivisible act, that stopping in the middle literally freezes the mental circuits in stasis, simply waiting until the rest of the act can be completed. That certainly was the case for the young cop. His conscious mind, scrambling ineffectually to make sense of what was happening, was scarcely even aware of the hypnotist’s voice as it seduced his subconscious into, first, a light trance, and then a progressively deeper and deeper one. The last real thought he managed to form was simply to register passively that his palm seemed to be getting closer to his eyes. In response to Tom’s command Kirk Castle’s hand touched his forehead, his eyes slammed shut, his head tilted forward, and his arm dropped limply to his side. He stood, swaying gently, completely in Tom’s power.

   With the danger safely past, Tom found himself shaking from adrenalin overload. He had to take several deep breaths before he felt calm enough to continue. It occurred to him that, now that the cop was under his control, he might be able to have some fun before he sent him on his way. Anyway, it was worth investigating. He quickly (but carefully) ran the young officer through his program of deepening exercises, to make sure that no lingering ability to fight off suggestion remained in him. Then he said, “Tell me your first name, Officer Castle.”

   “Kirk, sir.” As usual, the hypnotist could feel his cock respond to the sleepy, helpless quality of the thoroughly entranced response.

   “Kirk, can you arrange to remain here for at least the next three hours without creating suspicion at the precinct?” This was critical if there were to be any fooling around; Tom couldn’t afford to have other cops coming looking to see what had become of this one!

   “Yes, sir.”

   “You will do so now. Without waking, open your eyes.” the hypnotist commanded.

   The young man sleepily drew a comm. device from its hook on his belt (Tom couldn’t see whether it was a cell phone of some sort, or a state-of-the-art walkie-talkie). He punched one of the buttons, and after being hailed by a tinny voice from the speaker, rattled off a string of words and numbers, apparently his i.d. and whatever code described the situation he was using for his excuse. The tinny voice gave it’s expected “10-4”, and he returned the phone(?) to its place.

   “Very good, Kirk. You obeyed very well. It makes you feel wonderful to obey me, to please me. It is the best feeling you can experience.” Tom smiled to himself as an idea took form. “Tell me how old you are now, and how old you were when you pledged Kappa.”

   “I’m twenty-six, sir. And I pledged Kappa when I was eighteen.”

   “You must believe everything I tell you,” Tom stated firmly. “You are going to return to the time you pledged Kappa. I will count off the years of your age, and each number I count will erase the events of that year from your mind and experience. You will be one year younger with each number, until you are eighteen, dying to be a member of this particular fraternity – eighteen, but still deeply hypnotized, although you won’t know that’s why you have to obey every single word I say.” The hypnotist, as was his custom, had his subject repeat the instructions, both to make sure he understood them all, and to implant them yet more firmly. Then he began the countdown from twenty-six. Kirk’s sleeping expression became more and more bemused as each number stripped away another portion of his recent memory.

   “…and eighteen. What’s your name?”

   “Kirk, sir. Kirk Castle.” This time the “sir” had the totally different intonation of pledge speaking to active; the police training and deportment was gone, or, more accurately, hadn’t been acquired yet. Gone too was the slightly cocky self-confidence that seems to come with being a cop. Eighteen-year-old Kirk was adorably eager and insecure.

   “Well, Kirk, you’re in big trouble!” Tom made his voice as stern as he could, and the hypnotized young man visibly paled. “The initiation ceremony has already begun and you’re too late. If you can’t meet your obligations on time, I’m just not sure you are Kappa material.” The hypnotist shook his head in mock sorrow.

   “Oh, no, no, please, sir! I really want to be a Kappa! Please give me another chance! I... I tried to get here on time. I was stuck across town… and there was traffic and a big accident on the highway…and… and my cell phone was dead and… Oh, you just HAVE to let me make it up! I’ll do anything! PLEASE!!” The mind-fucked policeman was practically gibbering, just like the upset teenager he now believed himself to be.

   Tom pretended to consider for a moment, while privately chuckling to himself at the inventiveness of his subject’s imagination. “I guess I could talk to the rest of the brothers and see what they’d consider to be a fitting penalty for you before they would be willing to reinstate you as an initiate. Mind you, I’m not guaranteeing they’ll go for it.”

   “Oh thank you, sir! I promise I’ll do whatever they want. Just please, please let me be a Kappa!”

   The enthusiastic grin on Kirk’s handsome face would have melted a far colder man than Tom. He returned the smile in spite of himself, and said, “Okay, you wait here while I go talk to the guys. In the meantime, close your eyes and keep going deeper into trance… deeper and deeper… that’s right… You won’t hear a thing until I touch you again.” Leaving the cop safely imprisoned in dreamland, the hypnotist hurried to the other room. It was more than time to check up on the frat rats, before they came out of it on their own from lack of stimulus.

   Fortunately the spellbound brothers of _ _ K were right where he left them. No one had moved a muscle or showed any signs of waking up, although a few of their promising hard-ons had wilted somewhat. “Frat boys, front and center,” Tom declaimed. Immediately the tableau unfroze. Erections instantly surged afresh, boys began stroking their dicks again, the assembled brotherhood once again hung on the hypnotist’s every word, waiting for the count of ten to release them to their orgy. “There has been a change of plan, guys,” Tom told them. “You’ll still get hornier and more hypnotized with each remaining number I count, but when the last one releases you to act, you won’t allow yourselves to cum while you’re having sex with each other. Your first orgasm of the evening is to be saved for a special reason: There’s a new pledge who missed the initiation. His name is Kirk, and in order for him to atone for his failure to appear, he’s going to have to suck off every last one of you, on his knees. So, for that reason, even though you’re going to make out with each other like crazy, you’ll only be able to cum on Kirk’s face after he’s sucked you to orgasm. When he approaches any of you, you’ll stop whatever you were doing and present him your cock. Got that?” The entranced frat guys, practically as one, answered the affirmative. “Good. Eight… nine… and ten. Get it on!” Instantly boys were groping, fondling, kissing and licking each other with total abandon, although their facial expressions remained trance-bound and blank. The hypnotist left the room to collect his cop-toy.

  “Kirk,” Tom said, “You promised to do anything to be reinstated. You will keep that promise!” The sleepy cop nodded solemnly. “I will take you into the initiation chamber, and you will suck the dicks of every one of the brothers you find there. You will remain on your knees, moving from one to another, your eyes downcast in proper humility, until each Kappa you have blown has splooged in your face. Only then will you be allowed to join your brothers as a full-fledged Kappa. Do you accept this task?”

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  “Odd,” thought Tom, “That was almost too easy. I would have expected at least a little resistance time to lapse while the hypnosis conquered his inhibitions, before he agreed.” However, as he sharply scrutinized his subject, it was obvious that the trance was not being faked in any way, shape, or form. “Very well, take off your shirt and hand it to me.” The first sight of that torso uncovered, looking like Michelangelo’s David on steroids, left Tom weak in the knees. However, in spite of the overwhelming distraction, the hypnotist took the garment and folded it carefully. He knew the cop probably had to go back on duty after he finished with him, so he didn’t want the uniform shirt rumpled and inundated in frat-boy juice. The pants were probably safe enough. Tom also instructed Kirk to remove his heavy belt. The nightstick, and more particularly, the gun, could definitely be hazardous in the scenario he was creating. However, as he took the belt from the mesmerized policeman, his eyes fell on the handcuffs. Hmmm…

   “Turn out your pockets, Pledge Castle. I want your key ring.” Sure enough, as the policemen docilely handed over his keys, Tom could see a couple of smallish ones. One of them should do the cuffs… Yes! He had them open. “Arms behind your back, wrists together, Pledge!” and in seconds the muscular cop was bound with his own cuffs. “Follow me,” the hypnotist commanded, “And remember to keep your eyes lowered!”

   At the door to what was now the orgy room Tom ordered Kirk to drop to his knees and then sent him in to begin his task. The huge cop looked awkward, but incredibly cute, as he shuffled along, his head hanging humbly, his immobilized hands resting on the pants of his uniform drawn tight across his ass, and the toes of his polished black motorcycle boots scuffing against the carpet.

   As it chanced, the first Kappas Kirk and the hypnotist reached were Ken, Jason and Cameron. The two dark-haired freshmen were, at the moment, wrapped in a clinch, frenching each other with abandon while they jacked off. Blond Cameron was on his knees eating out Ken’s butt. Their physical interaction was intense and desperately passionate, but, as Tom was pleased to note, their eyes were half-closed and as blank as pebbles. God, how he loved trance!

   Stopping in front of them and lowering his head even more submissively, Kirk said in his soft, hypnotized voice, “Sirs, this lowly pledge requests the privilege of sucking your dicks.”

   Just as they’d been instructed to do, the three college boys immediately ceased their activity and lined up facing the kneeling policeman, motionless and blank as a row of statues, except for their rock-hard cocks twitching with anticipation. Presented with three cocks, Kirk Castle paused, looking dimly confused, but only for a brief moment. Then he fell to his task, choosing to move back and forth from one to another, keeping all three of the brother Kappas hard and shiny-wet. Kirk, his mouth sliding back and forth on hard cock, resembled even more closely Josh Duhamel, as the hypnotist best remembered the actor: totally entranced and unaware of what he was doing, mesmerized in to giving him head, and once again Tom was filled with regret that he’d been forced, for reasons of practicality and self-protection, to free Josh from his spell.

   Tom had undressed, but he hadn’t yet joined in the orgy, remaining near the spellbound cop, both because he wanted to watch the action close-up (of course!), and because he was expecting to have to do a little coaching. To his surprise, however, Officer Kirk Castle of the ___ P.D. was taking to cocksucking like a natural! The hypnotist really began to wonder about the young policeman. He looked altogether too experienced! Hypnotism can remove inhibitions and change attitudes, but it can’t, by itself, teach you something new! Had Kirk experimented with guys before? Could he be gay? Tom’s musing was cut short as Jason emitted a soft whimper and pulled his cock from Kirk’s mouth just in time to shoot his load all over the cop’s face. Cum dripping from his cheeks and eyebrows, Kirk continued to service the other two dicks without missing a beat, and in short order he was also wearing Ken’s cream (chin and shoulder – Ken was a shorter boy than Jason) and then Cameron’s. Now there was even jizz in his hair. The visual was so stimulating that Tom had to stop stroking his own cock immediately or cum on the spot. Unlike his hypnotized Kappas, he hadn’t programmed himself not to orgasm, and the hypnotist didn’t want his pleasure to end too soon.

   “Thank you, sirs,” said the mesmerized officer. The three entranced frat boys ignored him, however. Obeying their previous hypnotic orders they instantly went back at it with each other again, their spent cocks already showing a young man’s tendency toward quick recuperation. Kirk shuffled off to the next closest knot of entwined sex partners, in this case Alan and Andrew sixty-nining on a nearby couch. At the sound of his ritualized request they too instantly stopped their efforts and, like robots, rose to stand before him ready to accept his penance.

   Tom, seeing that everything was well in hand, left them there and began to enjoy his own participation – in particular, an in-depth exploration of the new guys. He didn’t allow himself to lose track of time however. He’d only asked his hypnotized cop if he could go missing for three hours (which had to include clean-up and de-programming), so that part of the festivities had a curfew on it.

   As the evening drew into its second hour, Kirk had blown nearly everyone. Tom rounded up the only men (other than himself) whom the policeman hadn’t yet sucked. Brett and Eric had been taking turns on Matt, one fucking the sexy blond freshman’s perfect butt while the other sucked or masturbated his ornamented cock, and then reversing tasks, and all three frats were beginning to show (in a vague, mind-blown way) a certain frustration at not being able to get themselves off after all this time. A word or two from the hypnotist, and they obediently followed him over to where Craig had just finished christening Kirk with yet another great splash of cum. By now, the handsome policeman was drenched and reeking, his face and chest shiny with slicks, but he still dutifully greeted the approaching four with his ritualized request. And like all the others, Eric, Matt, and Brett came to attention and presented their hard-ons. Practice had apparently made perfect (or else almost an hour of red hot sex had left those last three boys with hair triggers, hypnosis regardless), because Kirk’s busy mouth had scarcely gotten into a good rhythm before Eric lost control and exploded before he could withdraw. Cum dripped down the young officer’s chin, And then it squirted out between his lips as Brett’s cock replaced Eric’s. Still the hypnotized cop persevered. Brett didn’t last any longer than Eric. He quickly blew his load with a muffled groan, catching Kirk on the left ear, after which he staggered away to collapse on a sofa next to Angel with a satisfied sigh. Drowsily Brett began to lick Angel’s nipples like a contented cat.

   Two down and only one to go before it was Tom’s turn, and the hypnotist was particularly keen to watch young Matt give it up. The contrast between the impression given by that pretty, innocent little choirboy face and the reality of the pierced cock had Tom intrigued and turned on to the highest degree. To his not entirely astonished delight, it also apparently pushed Officer Castle’s buttons. As the hypnotized policeman began to give Matt head, his pace and approach changed. Kirk seemed (at least to the extent that he could, given the depth of his trance) fascinated by the shiny little chrome-plated stud that decorated the handsome blond boy’s dick. He tongued and nibbled at it sensuously, his vacant face taking on an expression of dreamy pleasure, and when he began to suck in earnest, it was much slower and deeper, as though he wanted to prolong the process. Matt squirmed and gasped, his ass flexing and his toes curling from the intensity of the sensations, and then orgasm roared through him like a freight train. Tom hadn’t watched everyone blast off, but of the one’s he’d seen, Matt definitely took the prize for volume – six full squirts that re-glazed the cop’s entire right cheek and then tracked down his neck. The hypnotist felt his own orgasm becoming inevitable.

   What really sent Tom over the edge however was the policeman’s reaction. As Matt shot all over Kirk’s face, the hypnotized cop’s eyes rolled upwards. His cum-drenched face went red, the tendons standing out on his neck, and then with a howl his body arched backwards. At the crotch of his khaki uniform trousers a damp splotch appeared and grew. Officer Castle was obviously having the orgasm of his life! Tom was so turned on that he barely made it over to Kirk before his own load shot from his over-stimulated cock to drip down the cop’s heaving chest.

   Well, that certainly settled that! Tom hadn’t given Kirk any suggestions other than the ones to perform particular tasks. He hadn’t had time to try to retrain any of the policeman’s inclinations, figuring that the obedience to hazing discipline (coupled with the depth of trance, of course) would be enough to get the job done. The fact that the cop had enjoyed the whole thing enough to cum spontaneously was a sure sign that he was gay as a goose. The hypnotist definitely wanted to explore this further, so, as he toweled the cum from Kirk’s sticky, dripping face and body, and then got both of them dressed again, he added some additional programming besides the usual memory cleanup and returning his mind to his present age.

   “Kirk,” Tom said, “I’m giving you my business card. You will put it in your wallet, and you won’t read it (or even remember it) until you’re off duty tomorrow night, and near a phone where you will have privacy. When you’re in the situation I’ve just described, and only then, you will remember receiving a card, and you’ll have a compulsion to take it out and look at it. As soon as you read either my name or my phone number, you’ll instantly return to a hypnotic trance state, just like the one you’re in now, or even deeper. You will call my number (and keep calling until you reach me), and once you hear my voice, you’ll obey any suggestions I choose to give you.” On the hypnotist’s cue, Kirk repeated everything without a hitch.

   The policeman’s hair was still damp and smelled of sex, although, on Tom’s orders he had combed it. Also, the crotch of his trousers still showed damp. The hypnotist guessed that riding his motorcycle would probably air him out sufficiently to get rid of the smell, but he’d need an explanation about his pants, so Tom wove a false memory scenario about a malfunctioning drinking fountain, suggesting that Officer Castle would find himself both embarrassed and amused at the awkward placement of the stain. Then he sent him off, watching from the doorway as the still entranced cop obediently started his cycle and rode away. He’d return to himself within a block, none the wiser about what had been going on.

   The frat boys were still hard (Tom smirked at the inadvertent pun his thoughts had just made) at it, so the hypnotist returned to the orgy room to finish their programming. He planned, before the night was out, for each one of them to receive specific instructions concerning future sexual and romantic behavior. _ _ K was going to be the gayest house on campus, at least internally; the guys would be maintaining their usual behavior in the world outside. Within the next few days, every single brother would find himself falling in love (or at least lust) with one of the others (the hypnotist had a roster in his head of who should be paired with whom). It should all prove most entertaining.

   It had been a long, tiring day. All Kirk Castle really wanted to do was change out of his uniform into comfortable sweats, have a beer, and watch the news. As he passed the counter where his telephone sat, he suddenly had a nagging sense of something he was forgetting. Without even thinking about it, he reached into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. Opening it, he found himself withdrawing a business card. Oh, yeah. There was a call he needed to make. The policeman couldn’t seem to remember what it was about, but he knew it was important. He turned the card over, hoping the name would jog his reluctant memory. Tom LeBlanc… Tom LeBlanc… Tom LeBlanc… The name held his eyes as he read it over and over. It seemed almost to pulse. Kirk’s awareness shrank to a pinpoint focus staring at that name. Then, like a zombie returning to life, he walked blank-faced to the phone and began to dial…

To be continued…

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