Hi, I’m Jim.  You probably care what I look like, so I’ll get that out of the way first.  I’m 27 but look much younger.  I’m in shape, but pretty scrawny.  I have a runner’s build, probably because I run 5ks a few times a month.  But I don’t have the muscle definition of your real jock types.  After my last relationship, I decided I wanted a dumb jock to bang.  I’ve always had a thing for the big muscular types. So I decided to start going to the gym to see if I could meet some people.  

I was really enjoying the eye candy, and making some new friends.  A few of the buff guys came over and started ‘mentoring’ me and giving me advice on how to get some bulk, and better definition.  It was cute, and fun having them spot me.  But these guys were straight.  Even if I could convince them to play around with me, they wouldn’t let me fuck them, or do any of my other favorite things with them.  But I kept coming in anyway, waiting for an opportunity to arise.  And sure enough, one did.  

His name was Michael.  He hit 30 a few months back, and had been freaking out about it a little.  You see, he worked as a pharmaceutical sales rep.  They get hired for being attractive, and as they age they either get moved up to management or get laid off.  Michael was not going to get moved up to management.  He had the charisma for it, but not the brains.  Good decisions, even common sense, were not really his strong suit.  He had just enough self-awareness to realize this about himself though and was worried his firm was going to fire him.  

I didn’t think he had to worry about getting fired any time soon, his looks were nowhere close to fading.  He had piercing blue eyes and a strong jaw, though his ears were slightly large on him.  He had a broad muscular chest with a long tapered torso, and a great 6-pack.  His legs were thick and strong with amazing calves.  And all of it was covered with a light blond fuzz.  He had a dumb tattoo on either side of his body, a dragon on one side, and fire on the other, to match his chinese zodiac he said.  It turns out he was born in January though, and no one told him that the Chinese year doesn’t start January 1st.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him he was really a wood rabbit, partly because it would embarrass him, but mostly because I didn’t want to see him get a rabbit tattooed on his ass.  

Michael had always been very kind and encouraging to me at the gym, offering advice and support.  We even went out for drinks a few times.  He paid, I calculated the tip.  I thought he was gay for a little while, but I think he was just lonely or enjoyed how I complimented his body.   He would call me and ask for my opinion on current events sometimes, getting an explanation and taking notes so he could use my opinions to sound smarter to the doctors on his route. I’m sure his doctors cared about his brains just as much as I did.  



He called me one night, wanting to talk.  He was having a rough time.  He was worried about losing his looks still, and his girlfriend of two years had just left him as well.  He was depressed and anxious, and having trouble concentrating at work, and having trouble sticking to his diet and workout.  He felt his life was spiraling out of control.  I did my best to reassure him, but he was panicking (and probably a little bit drunk).  I suggested he see a therapist for a while.

“I’m not crazy, Jim!  And I’m not talking to some stranger about my life!” He yelled.

“I know you’re not crazy.  Just try to stay calm, everything will work out.”

“You don’t know that!  Everything is falling apart!”

“Look, you liked meditation when you tried it before, right?  It helped?”

I had suggested mediation to him a while back, loaning him some guided meditation CDs.  He told me that he had, and I quote “Found it really easy to empty my mind.” I kid you not.  

“Yeah, those were good, but they aren’t helping right now,” Michael replied.

“Well, I’ve been looking into hypnotism for a while now.  I helped a few friends with some issues.  I could help you too, if you wanted.”

“You mean like the swinging watch stuff, that really works?” he said, confused?

“Yeah, it can really help.”

“So you want to mind control my life better?”

“Hypnotism isn’t mind control.  Just think of it as a more intense, personalized guided meditation.  The meditation worked for you, right?.  This would just take it to the next level.”

“I did like the meditation,” Michael confirmed, “How does it work?” he asked.

“Hypnotism unshackles your conscious mind, helping you use your un- and sub-conscious mind to better effect,” I explained.

“Huh?”

“Look, your mind is worried and nervous, and doing dumb things to try to make you feel better but it isn’t working.  Using hypnotism, we can make that part of you quieter and give control to the deeper parts of your mind.  Use those parts to give you the extra focus and calm that you need.”

“I guess that sounds cool, man.  But how do I know you won’t make me do something dumb like woof like a dog or something?”

“Hypnotism doesn’t really work like that,” I lied.  “All it can do it let stuff from your subconscious come up.  You’re really the one in control, you do all of the work yourself.  I’m just there spotting you, making sure your subconscious doesn’t strain itself or let too much out.”

“Yeah?  Ok, that makes sense.  You’d really help me out like this?  When could we start?”

“Of course I would.  We can start whenever you want.”

“Tonight?  Could you come over and help me tonight?” Michael asked, almost pleadingly.  

“Sure.”



I went over to his place immediately.  He answered the door wearing pants and a salmon dress shirt.  It looks quite good on him, but even better was the fact that the shirt was completely unbuttoned, showing off his body.  

“Hey buddy, I’m glad you came,” Michael said, taking me inside.  “So, how does this work.”

“Sit down on the couch for me and just try to relax.”

He got comfortable and I began.  I started by giving him breathing exercises, having him take very slow, very deep breaths, focusing on feeling the air enter his throat and lungs, calming him.  Focusing on feeling the stress leaving his body as he exhaled.  I told him to stop trying to control his thoughts, letting them come, acknowledging them, and letting them go again.  I took him through a progressive muscle relaxation exercise, helping him relax every muscle in his body in turn.  Once I could see that he was very relaxed, I started the induction.  

It didn’t take long to turn his conscious mind off.  I tested my control over him, having him raise and lower and arm.  That was fast.  Could I control his autonomous body functions as well?  I told him to get an erection.  I could see the tent start to form in his pants in seconds.  I was tempted to have him take his pants off right now, but I thought better of it.  Michael was clearly a very good subject.  I put in my bookmark.  “Michael, when you hear me say the word ‘Trance’ in future, I want you to come back to this state.  Do you understand?”

“Yes”, came his monotone reply.

Now that the basics were taken care of, I got to work.  Most of what I did was really for his benefit.  I gave him the tools to call up this calm and fight his anxiety.  I gave him the ability to focus better, have better recall, to be more confident and charismatic.  Really, I did for him what should have taken years of therapy and coaching.  So why not put in a little something fun, just for me?  I’d earned it,

"Michael, you will not be able to achieve orgasm from mastubation. You can try as much as you want, but your own hands will no longer satisfy you.  Do you understand?"

“I will not be able to achieve orgasm from masturbation”, he repeated.

"Good.  When you wake up, you will feel happy, satisfied, and refreshed, remembering nothing about what we talked about. Being under is one of the best feelings you've had. You want to be hypnotized again. When you wake up, you will immediately thank me, and give me a kind and genuine compliment. You will wake in 3 . . . 2. . . 1 . ."

Michael woke up smiling.  “Oh wow, that feels . . . good.  Thanks bud.  That really helped.  I always know I can count on you.  I don’t have a lot of people I can count on.  I appreciate it.”

“No worries man!  So it really worked?  You feel better?  I haven’t done too much of this before.”  I confided.

“Yeah, it worked!  It felt like I only took a nap, but I feel so calm now.  Want to grab dinner?  My treat, it’s the least I can do.”  Michael offered.

It was good to see Michael back to his old self, so upbeat and charming.  Dinner was tasty (and free for me!) and we both had a great time, talking well into the night.  The next afternoon he called me to thank me again.

“Hey bud, I just wanted to call and thank you again.  You’re a miracle worker!  I’m still feeling calm today, but even better, I can remember whole fact-sheets without having to look them up.  I just have to think about it and it’s there!  And my morning workout was amazing!  I was able to push myself so much harder than ever.  It’s amazing!  Anyway, I have to go, but thanks again buddy, I owe you one.”



He didn’t call again for two more days.  When my phone did right, I had a suspicion I knew why.  "Hey Jim.  So you know that thing we did the other day?  I was wondering, maybe we could do another session buddy?  Because, one session is probably not going to cut it, is it?"

“Hey Michael, good to hear from you again.  Yeah, I can do another session with you.  When are you free?”

“Uhh, now?  Can we do it now-ish?”

“Sure.  I’ll be on my way in a few minutes.  Is everything ok man?”

“Yeah, I’m ok.  It’s just . . . well, we’ll talk about it later.”



I headed on over.  He was dressed in sweatpants and no shirt.  I was entranced by seeing his body hair thicken and turn into a tuft right before it disappeared into his low-riding pants.  Luckily, he seemed a little too nervous to notice my gaze.

“What’s up Michael, is everything ok?  Is the hypnotism still working?  Have there been any side effects?” I asked innocently.  He blushed deeply, the flush spreading from his face all the way down to his chest.  

"Honestly, it worked really well.  I didn't expect it to, but it worked and I really enjoyed it.  However, I’ve felt a little . . . tense afterward. And I haven’t been able to properly . . . relax, if you know what I mean."

"That's ok. It's natural. Sometimes where you play with the subconscious, it brings some baggage with it. It can . . . feel empowered if you will, and try to bring other issue to the surface. We just need to think things through and figure out what's going on. So it sounds like you're having trouble sleeping? What do you think could be causing that?" I smile kindly as I misinterpret his reference to 'relaxing'.

“Uhh, no.”  Michael said, clearly uncomfortable.  “I was feeling pretty great, and I decided to have . . . a little alone time.  So I put on some porn and started . . . you know.  But I couldn’t finish.  Didn’t matter what I tried, I couldn’t finish!  Do you think the hypnotism could have caused this?  Can we turn it back?”

“Oh.  Wow.”  I do my best to play up the awkwardness of this moment.  “This could be about a lack of . . .  companionship.  You did go through a breakup lately.  You haven’t started dating since she left you.  So maybe your subconscious is saying that you are not getting the satisfaction you need from the porn, that it wants something different?

“That could be.  That’s deep man.  I didn’t know I was so deep.  But I’m not sure I’m ready for that.  Can’t you just put me back under and . . . correct it?”

“It’s not that simple.  Once you wake these things up, you have to work through them.  You wouldn’t want to undo the other effects, would you?”

“No, I guess not.  But . . . there really isn’t anything you can do?”

“Well, I guess I could give it a try.  Trance!”

Michael slumped over instantly and I got to work.  First, I went through the relaxation again and helped him get into a deep hypnotic state again and then reinforced the ‘Trance’ command.  Then I took some time reinforcing everything I had done last time, boosting his focus and calm.  Making him enjoy being under.  And making sure he wouldn’t be able to masturbate.  Originally, I didn’t think the masturbation trick would work on him, not for long anyway.  Hormones are a powerful thing.  But it has worked.  So while I was in his head and on a roll, I decided to try taking things one step further.  

"You will find yourself unable to achieve orgasm in the presence of women. You might even find it hard to achieve an erection, but you definitely will not be able to cum.  Do you understand Michael?"

“Yes.  I will not be able to get hard or cum with a woman.”

“Very good.  Also, you will discover yourself becoming aroused by men, specifically young men.  Lean masculine bodies, deep voices, and manly smells.  Wake up in 3 . . . . 2 . . . . 1 . . . . "

Michael woke up relaxed.  “Wow, that feels good.  So, were you able to fix things buddy?”

“I don’t know.  I tried, but you never know.  You should probably try to solve that companionship issue though.  It’s time you got over your ex anyway.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right man.  Maybe I’ll go to a bar tonight and see what happens.  You want to come with, be my wingman?  Maybe we can hook you up with a hot chick too!”

“No thanks man, I’m good”, I declined.  “But you have fun.  Tell me all about it tomorrow.”



I got a call from him the next morning.  “Jim!  I need you help!”

“Michael?”

“Yes, please come over buddy, I need your help!”

“I can’t man, I’m about to go running.  I’m already dressed and everything.”

“No, no, no, you don’t understand.  I need you, please!”

“Ok, ok, I’ll come over.”


He answered the door before I even had a chance to knock, he must have been looking for me.  Michael looked like shit.  Well, as bad as someone as handsome as he was could look.  It looked like he hadn’t slept.  “What’s going on, what’s the emergency?”

He told me the whole story.  He had gone out the the bar last night trying to find someone to go home with.  Unsurprisingly, he didn’t have much trouble finding someone.  He described her in great detail, but I’ll save you the time.  She was attractive.  She was skilled.  She was unable to get him hard.  Michael sent her home and then tried to get himself off.  This hadn’t worked either.  But when he put on some porn, he found himself looking more at the guy than anything.  That was what finally got him hard.  It still didn’t help him cum though.  

I feigned surprise.  “Oh wow, so you think you might be gay?  That’s not something hypnotism can fix.”

“I don’t know man!  I never thought of gay stuff before, I was only into women.  Do you think my subconscious was hiding it all this time?  Ugh, I’m so horny I can’t think.  I haven’t cum for days now!”

“Look, I’ve been doing some research lately, and I think I can help you with the masturbation issues.”  I point to a book I brought with me.  “I think I have a way to fix that.  Do you want to give that a try?”

“Yes, yes please.  If we fix that, we can deal with everything else later.  Thank you so much for helping me with this man.”  

He slipped into the trance quickly and deeply. He'd taken to falling under my control like a fish to water.

"Ok Michael, can you hear my voice?"

"Yes" he replied in his entranced monotone.

"Good. I have a few new things for you today. First up, whenever you hear yourself called a 'Good boy' you will feel warm and safe. You will also feel a surge of pleasure come over your entire body. Do you understand?

"Yes."

"Good boy."

His already relaxed body slumped a little more and a smile passed over his lips. He shuddered with pleasure.  I notice him start to sprout a half-boner. Things were going well.

"Ok, next thing Hugh. You trust me. I am your safe haven. You can tell me anything you want. You know I would never hurt you or do anything that would harm you. Anything I do must be in your best interest, by definition, no matter how it might seem. Do you believe that?"

"Yes." He seemed enraptured, smiling and safe.

"The last thing, and I want you to put this as deep into your mind as possible. You will not be able to cum ever again, unless first get permission from someone you really trust. Do you have that one?"

"Yes." He nodded seriously. I started bringing Micheal out of the trance, assuring him that he will feel calm and rested and full of energy without memory of what we talked about as soon as he comes out of the trance in 3 . . . 2. . . 1. . . .

"Welcome back!" I give him a playful punch in the shoulder. I found out some interesting stuff in there, but I think we can put some of it to use. Anyway, how are you feeling?

“I. . . I dunno.  I feel good I think.  Thank you for this.  I don’t know what I’d do if it weren’t for you.”

“That’s ok, any time Michael.  But this might get a little awkward.  I don’t know if what I did worked.  There are about a dozen different techniques I can try though, so don’t worry.  So, if you want, I can go home and if it doesn’t work, I can come back and try something new the next day.”  I explained slowly.

“Wait, so that could take up to a week?!  I can’t last that long!”

Math wasn’t his strong suit.  “Maybe even longer”, I explained.  “But we could try something else.  If you wanted you could try here and now.  And if you encounter a block we can try a new technique right away.  We can be done today.”

I’m not sure if it was the desperation to cum, or the hypnotic suggestion of trust that did the job, but Micheal barely objected.  

“I . . . guess you’ve seen me in the showers at the gym before.  This isn’t that different right?  I mean, we have to fix this.”

“Then get started. This is about you and your head. The important part is trust and communication. Just sit down and start playing with yourself and tell me what's running through your head, what is working and what isn't working.”

“Like this?”  Michael pulled his pajama pants down under his balls.  His cock was already close to hard.  It was about 6 inches long, but thick, thicker than any I’d seen before sticking up out of a mass of reddish brown pubes.

“Good boy.”  I told him.  The effect was immediate.  He let out a gentle moan and rose to full mast almost instantly.  I take a wide stance and stand up right in front of him and make direct eye contact with him. “Now just tell me what gets you going.  It looks like you’re having a good time right now.  What’s getting your blood pumping man?”  As emphasis, I flex my cock.  Michael breaks eye contact with me briefly to watch.

“I . . . I imagine bodies.  Naked bodies.  Lots of them around me.  They are all firm and shapely.  They . . . uh, they look like you a little bit.”  Michael said hesitantly.  

“Really?  Well I did say I would do whatever it took to help you.”  I stripped off my shirt slowly.  Michael licked his lips involuntarily.  Then I quickly step out of my shorts, leaving me in just my jockstrap.  Michael stared at the bulge.  

"I'm guessing you want me to take this thing off too?" I pulled at the side of my jock letting it snap back against my waist. "What will you do once I take it off boy?"

A complex array of emotions runs over Michael’s face.  “I would . . .I - “  But I won out in the end.  “I’d suck your dick until you were dry!”

“Good boy!”  The affirmation of his desires along with the suggestion caused him to almost faint with pleasure. I noted to be more sparing with that trigger in future, to only give him that when he really deserves it.

I stepped in close and held his face to my crotch. I could feel him nuzzling his face against my thick cock. "That's enough for now boy."  He was too lost in his head to obey, so I took his head and pulled it away, pushing him back into the chair. "I said enough!"  He was a little shaken by his own desire.

I pulled the jockstrap down slowly until my 7.5 inch cock sprung up and pointed straight at him.

"Now you can get back here boy. Let's see how talented you are at sucking cock. Don't worry, I'll coach you through it."

He came towards me, almost in a haze, not realizing quite what he was doing, just knowing it felt right.  Michael was adorably eager, but unfortunately that doesn’t mean the same thing as good.  But he did take direction well.  I slowly taught him to keep proper pace, and to use his tongue well.  He quickly mastered each skill.  I let him take a break, having him suck on my balls for a while, giving me time to cool down.  It had the opposite effect on Michael though, causing his poor cock to throb menacingly.  

"Back to my cock now boy." He leaped to it, quickly engulfing it. I could feel my cum rising. "Keep going boy. Good, good, pay attention to your tongue-work. Mind the pace. Yes . . . yes . . ."

I couldn't hold back any more and let it shoot into his mouth. I made sure that the same second the cum hit his throat, the words 'Good boy' hit his ears. He writhed in pleasure as he sucked down my juices. My lithe body convulsed with each squirt, leaving me hunched over and lightly kissing the back of Michael's head as he suckled my now (temporarily) softening cock.  "We should probably take care of you now, don't you think boy?"

“Yes!  Yes please!  My balls are killing me bud!”

I firmly pushed him down so he was lying on ground.  He looked a little shocked that he did nothing to prevent it.  I lay down next to him, and look him directly in the eye.  

I slowly slid my hand up and down his cock, watching his face so I could find all the places where it was most sensitive. Once I mapped the territory, so to speak, I started to really play with his cock. I feel his warm body next to mine breathing and straining.

“Please, faster!”  He moaned.  

“No boy, we do this my way.”

Michael moaned, and nodded.  He kept staring right into my eyes, pleadingly at first, but as time went on the look became loving.  

After a good fifteen minutes he started to sweat and even get  little delirious in his low gravelly whimpering.

"You know what I think the problem is boy? I think you don't believe that you deserve to cum. Is that how you feel? Let's test that theory. Ask me for permission boy. Beg me."

“Please,” he says.  His voice doesn’t sound like the cocky jock I first met.  “Please man, I would do anything to cum.  Let me, please, I’m begging you!”

“Good boy.  I give you permission.  Cum for me.”  I barely got through the word permission before I felt his body start to spasm. I kept one hand on his chest, holding his body close to mine as my other hand milked every last drop from his cock. His orgasm lasted forever, and he squirted 16, maybe 17 times as I restrained him and kept him from rolling away from me. But the best part was the grunt that accompanied each new spurt of cum that sounded agonized and satisfied at the same time.

Once his pleasure subsided, I squooze out a few last drops. His cock was so sensitive that he twitched as I played with his spent cock.  But he was too exhausted to protest. Even as his erection faded, I'm sure he felt mine pressed up against his body.

I pulled his head to face me. "What a good boy." The words triggered a hard sigh from his pleasure-weary body.  I went in for a deep kiss. "So tell me Michael. How do you feel about what just happened?"

"It... It was the strongest orgasm... I've ever had..." He responded, panting. "I... I don't know how to thank you..."

"You learned the best way to thank me earlier jockboy, and you'll have so many more chances to practice that as my personal cocksucker." Hearing himself called a cocksucker turned his face crimson instantly. "Hah, too late to be shy now jockboy. You just swallowed my load and begged me to let you cum. I'm sure there is plenty more you'll be begging for soon Michael, so you better get used to it." I scooped all of the cum from his body and hold it under his lips.  "Lick up all of this mess you've made and admit that you're my cocksucker. Otherwise I won't let you do any of this again."

Michael looked confused.  He was trying to reconcile his past and his prejudices, with his new feelings and desires. But we both knew which part of him would win.

“You're my cocksucker. That's not a bad thing. I take very good care of my things, and it clearly makes you very happy. So say it yourself so I know that you understand it.”  He licked his cum from my fingers and said the words that would change his life forever.   If you enjoy this story, or have any thoughts or requests, email me at [email protected]
Hi, I’m Jim.  You probably care what I look like, so I’ll get that out of the way first.  I’m 27 but look much younger.  I’m in shape, but pretty scrawny.  I have a runner’s build, probably because I run 5ks a few times a month.  But I don’t have the muscle definition of your real jock types.  After my last relationship, I decided I wanted a dumb jock to bang.  I’ve always had a thing for the big muscular types. So I decided to start going to the gym to see if I could meet some people.  
I was really enjoying the eye candy, and making some new friends.  A few of the buff guys came over and started ‘mentoring’ me and giving me advice on how to get some bulk, and better definition.  It was cute, and fun having them spot me.  But these guys were straight.  Even if I could convince them to play around with me, they wouldn’t let me fuck them, or do any of my other favorite things with them.  But I kept coming in anyway, waiting for an opportunity to arise.  And sure enough, one did.  
His name was Michael.  He hit 30 a few months back, and had been freaking out about it a little.  You see, he worked as a pharmaceutical sales rep.  They get hired for being attractive, and as they age they either get moved up to management or get laid off.  Michael was not going to get moved up to management.  He had the charisma for it, but not the brains.  Good decisions, even common sense, were not really his strong suit.  He had just enough self-awareness to realize this about himself though and was worried his firm was going to fire him.  
I didn’t think he had to worry about getting fired any time soon, his looks were nowhere close to fading.  He had piercing blue eyes and a strong jaw, though his ears were slightly large on him.  He had a broad muscular chest with a long tapered torso, and a great 6-pack.  His legs were thick and strong with amazing calves.  And all of it was covered with a light blond fuzz.  He had a dumb tattoo on either side of his body, a dragon on one side, and fire on the other, to match his chinese zodiac he said.  It turns out he was born in January though, and no one told him that the Chinese year doesn’t start January 1st.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him he was really a wood rabbit, partly because it would embarrass him, but mostly because I didn’t want to see him get a rabbit tattooed on his ass.  
Michael had always been very kind and encouraging to me at the gym, offering advice and support.  We even went out for drinks a few times.  He paid, I calculated the tip.  I thought he was gay for a little while, but I think he was just lonely or enjoyed how I complimented his body.   He would call me and ask for my opinion on current events sometimes, getting an explanation and taking notes so he could use my opinions to sound smarter to the doctors on his route. I’m sure his doctors cared about his brains just as much as I did.  


He called me one night, wanting to talk.  He was having a rough time.  He was worried about losing his looks still, and his girlfriend of two years had just left him as well.  He was depressed and anxious, and having trouble concentrating at work, and having trouble sticking to his diet and workout.  He felt his life was spiraling out of control.  I did my best to reassure him, but he was panicking (and probably a little bit drunk).  I suggested he see a therapist for a while.
“I’m not crazy, Jim!  And I’m not talking to some stranger about my life!” He yelled.
“I know you’re not crazy.  Just try to stay calm, everything will work out.”
“You don’t know that!  Everything is falling apart!”
“Look, you liked meditation when you tried it before, right?  It helped?”
I had suggested mediation to him a while back, loaning him some guided meditation CDs.  He told me that he had, and I quote “Found it really easy to empty my mind.” I kid you not.  
“Yeah, those were good, but they aren’t helping right now,” Michael replied.
“Well, I’ve been looking into hypnotism for a while now.  I helped a few friends with some issues.  I could help you too, if you wanted.”
“You mean like the swinging watch stuff, that really works?” he said, confused?
“Yeah, it can really help.”
“So you want to mind control my life better?”
“Hypnotism isn’t mind control.  Just think of it as a more intense, personalized guided meditation.  The meditation worked for you, right?.  This would just take it to the next level.”
“I did like the meditation,” Michael confirmed, “How does it work?” he asked.
“Hypnotism unshackles your conscious mind, helping you use your un- and sub-conscious mind to better effect,” I explained.
“Huh?”
“Look, your mind is worried and nervous, and doing dumb things to try to make you feel better but it isn’t working.  Using hypnotism, we can make that part of you quieter and give control to the deeper parts of your mind.  Use those parts to give you the extra focus and calm that you need.”
“I guess that sounds cool, man.  But how do I know you won’t make me do something dumb like woof like a dog or something?”
“Hypnotism doesn’t really work like that,” I lied.  “All it can do it let stuff from your subconscious come up.  You’re really the one in control, you do all of the work yourself.  I’m just there spotting you, making sure your subconscious doesn’t strain itself or let too much out.”
“Yeah?  Ok, that makes sense.  You’d really help me out like this?  When could we start?”
“Of course I would.  We can start whenever you want.”
“Tonight?  Could you come over and help me tonight?” Michael asked, almost pleadingly.  
“Sure.”


I went over to his place immediately.  He answered the door wearing pants and a salmon dress shirt.  It looks quite good on him, but even better was the fact that the shirt was completely unbuttoned, showing off his body.  
“Hey buddy, I’m glad you came,” Michael said, taking me inside.  “So, how does this work.”
“Sit down on the couch for me and just try to relax.”
He got comfortable and I began.  I started by giving him breathing exercises, having him take very slow, very deep breaths, focusing on feeling the air enter his throat and lungs, calming him.  Focusing on feeling the stress leaving his body as he exhaled.  I told him to stop trying to control his thoughts, letting them come, acknowledging them, and letting them go again.  I took him through a progressive muscle relaxation exercise, helping him relax every muscle in his body in turn.  Once I could see that he was very relaxed, I started the induction.  
It didn’t take long to turn his conscious mind off.  I tested my control over him, having him raise and lower and arm.  That was fast.  Could I control his autonomous body functions as well?  I told him to get an erection.  I could see the tent start to form in his pants in seconds.  I was tempted to have him take his pants off right now, but I thought better of it.  Michael was clearly a very good subject.  I put in my bookmark.  “Michael, when you hear me say the word ‘Trance’ in future, I want you to come back to this state.  Do you understand?”
“Yes”, came his monotone reply.
Now that the basics were taken care of, I got to work.  Most of what I did was really for his benefit.  I gave him the tools to call up this calm and fight his anxiety.  I gave him the ability to focus better, have better recall, to be more confident and charismatic.  Really, I did for him what should have taken years of therapy and coaching.  So why not put in a little something fun, just for me?  I’d earned it,
"Michael, you will not be able to achieve orgasm from mastubation. You can try as much as you want, but your own hands will no longer satisfy you.  Do you understand?"
“I will not be able to achieve orgasm from masturbation”, he repeated.
"Good.  When you wake up, you will feel happy, satisfied, and refreshed, remembering nothing about what we talked about. Being under is one of the best feelings you've had. You want to be hypnotized again. When you wake up, you will immediately thank me, and give me a kind and genuine compliment. You will wake in 3 . . . 2. . . 1 . ."
Michael woke up smiling.  “Oh wow, that feels . . . good.  Thanks bud.  That really helped.  I always know I can count on you.  I don’t have a lot of people I can count on.  I appreciate it.”
“No worries man!  So it really worked?  You feel better?  I haven’t done too much of this before.”  I confided.
“Yeah, it worked!  It felt like I only took a nap, but I feel so calm now.  Want to grab dinner?  My treat, it’s the least I can do.”  Michael offered.
It was good to see Michael back to his old self, so upbeat and charming.  Dinner was tasty (and free for me!) and we both had a great time, talking well into the night.  The next afternoon he called me to thank me again.
“Hey bud, I just wanted to call and thank you again.  You’re a miracle worker!  I’m still feeling calm today, but even better, I can remember whole fact-sheets without having to look them up.  I just have to think about it and it’s there!  And my morning workout was amazing!  I was able to push myself so much harder than ever.  It’s amazing!  Anyway, I have to go, but thanks again buddy, I owe you one.”


He didn’t call again for two more days.  When my phone did right, I had a suspicion I knew why.  "Hey Jim.  So you know that thing we did the other day?  I was wondering, maybe we could do another session buddy?  Because, one session is probably not going to cut it, is it?"
“Hey Michael, good to hear from you again.  Yeah, I can do another session with you.  When are you free?”
“Uhh, now?  Can we do it now-ish?”
“Sure.  I’ll be on my way in a few minutes.  Is everything ok man?”
“Yeah, I’m ok.  It’s just . . . well, we’ll talk about it later.”


I headed on over.  He was dressed in sweatpants and no shirt.  I was entranced by seeing his body hair thicken and turn into a tuft right before it disappeared into his low-riding pants.  Luckily, he seemed a little too nervous to notice my gaze.
“What’s up Michael, is everything ok?  Is the hypnotism still working?  Have there been any side effects?” I asked innocently.  He blushed deeply, the flush spreading from his face all the way down to his chest.  
"Honestly, it worked really well.  I didn't expect it to, but it worked and I really enjoyed it.  However, I’ve felt a little . . . tense afterward. And I haven’t been able to properly . . . relax, if you know what I mean."
"That's ok. It's natural. Sometimes where you play with the subconscious, it brings some baggage with it. It can . . . feel empowered if you will, and try to bring other issue to the surface. We just need to think things through and figure out what's going on. So it sounds like you're having trouble sleeping? What do you think could be causing that?" I smile kindly as I misinterpret his reference to 'relaxing'.
“Uhh, no.”  Michael said, clearly uncomfortable.  “I was feeling pretty great, and I decided to have . . . a little alone time.  So I put on some porn and started . . . you know.  But I couldn’t finish.  Didn’t matter what I tried, I couldn’t finish!  Do you think the hypnotism could have caused this?  Can we turn it back?”
“Oh.  Wow.”  I do my best to play up the awkwardness of this moment.  “This could be about a lack of . . .  companionship.  You did go through a breakup lately.  You haven’t started dating since she left you.  So maybe your subconscious is saying that you are not getting the satisfaction you need from the porn, that it wants something different?
“That could be.  That’s deep man.  I didn’t know I was so deep.  But I’m not sure I’m ready for that.  Can’t you just put me back under and . . . correct it?”
“It’s not that simple.  Once you wake these things up, you have to work through them.  You wouldn’t want to undo the other effects, would you?”
“No, I guess not.  But . . . there really isn’t anything you can do?”
“Well, I guess I could give it a try.  Trance!”
Michael slumped over instantly and I got to work.  First, I went through the relaxation again and helped him get into a deep hypnotic state again and then reinforced the ‘Trance’ command.  Then I took some time reinforcing everything I had done last time, boosting his focus and calm.  Making him enjoy being under.  And making sure he wouldn’t be able to masturbate.  Originally, I didn’t think the masturbation trick would work on him, not for long anyway.  Hormones are a powerful thing.  But it has worked.  So while I was in his head and on a roll, I decided to try taking things one step further.  
"You will find yourself unable to achieve orgasm in the presence of women. You might even find it hard to achieve an erection, but you definitely will not be able to cum.  Do you understand Michael?"
“Yes.  I will not be able to get hard or cum with a woman.”
“Very good.  Also, you will discover yourself becoming aroused by men, specifically young men.  Lean masculine bodies, deep voices, and manly smells.  Wake up in 3 . . . . 2 . . . . 1 . . . . "
Michael woke up relaxed.  “Wow, that feels good.  So, were you able to fix things buddy?”
“I don’t know.  I tried, but you never know.  You should probably try to solve that companionship issue though.  It’s time you got over your ex anyway.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right man.  Maybe I’ll go to a bar tonight and see what happens.  You want to come with, be my wingman?  Maybe we can hook you up with a hot chick too!”
“No thanks man, I’m good”, I declined.  “But you have fun.  Tell me all about it tomorrow.”


I got a call from him the next morning.  “Jim!  I need you help!”
“Michael?”
“Yes, please come over buddy, I need your help!”
“I can’t man, I’m about to go running.  I’m already dressed and everything.”
“No, no, no, you don’t understand.  I need you, please!”
“Ok, ok, I’ll come over.”

He answered the door before I even had a chance to knock, he must have been looking for me.  Michael looked like shit.  Well, as bad as someone as handsome as he was could look.  It looked like he hadn’t slept.  “What’s going on, what’s the emergency?”
He told me the whole story.  He had gone out the the bar last night trying to find someone to go home with.  Unsurprisingly, he didn’t have much trouble finding someone.  He described her in great detail, but I’ll save you the time.  She was attractive.  She was skilled.  She was unable to get him hard.  Michael sent her home and then tried to get himself off.  This hadn’t worked either.  But when he put on some porn, he found himself looking more at the guy than anything.  That was what finally got him hard.  It still didn’t help him cum though.  
I feigned surprise.  “Oh wow, so you think you might be gay?  That’s not something hypnotism can fix.”
“I don’t know man!  I never thought of gay stuff before, I was only into women.  Do you think my subconscious was hiding it all this time?  Ugh, I’m so horny I can’t think.  I haven’t cum for days now!”
“Look, I’ve been doing some research lately, and I think I can help you with the masturbation issues.”  I point to a book I brought with me.  “I think I have a way to fix that.  Do you want to give that a try?”
“Yes, yes please.  If we fix that, we can deal with everything else later.  Thank you so much for helping me with this man.”  
He slipped into the trance quickly and deeply. He'd taken to falling under my control like a fish to water.
"Ok Michael, can you hear my voice?"
"Yes" he replied in his entranced monotone.
"Good. I have a few new things for you today. First up, whenever you hear yourself called a 'Good boy' you will feel warm and safe. You will also feel a surge of pleasure come over your entire body. Do you understand?
"Yes."
"Good boy."
His already relaxed body slumped a little more and a smile passed over his lips. He shuddered with pleasure.  I notice him start to sprout a half-boner. Things were going well.
"Ok, next thing Hugh. You trust me. I am your safe haven. You can tell me anything you want. You know I would never hurt you or do anything that would harm you. Anything I do must be in your best interest, by definition, no matter how it might seem. Do you believe that?"
"Yes." He seemed enraptured, smiling and safe.
"The last thing, and I want you to put this as deep into your mind as possible. You will not be able to cum ever again, unless first get permission from someone you really trust. Do you have that one?"
"Yes." He nodded seriously. I started bringing Micheal out of the trance, assuring him that he will feel calm and rested and full of energy without memory of what we talked about as soon as he comes out of the trance in 3 . . . 2. . . 1. . . .
"Welcome back!" I give him a playful punch in the shoulder. I found out some interesting stuff in there, but I think we can put some of it to use. Anyway, how are you feeling?
“I. . . I dunno.  I feel good I think.  Thank you for this.  I don’t know what I’d do if it weren’t for you.”
“That’s ok, any time Michael.  But this might get a little awkward.  I don’t know if what I did worked.  There are about a dozen different techniques I can try though, so don’t worry.  So, if you want, I can go home and if it doesn’t work, I can come back and try something new the next day.”  I explained slowly.
“Wait, so that could take up to a week?!  I can’t last that long!”
Math wasn’t his strong suit.  “Maybe even longer”, I explained.  “But we could try something else.  If you wanted you could try here and now.  And if you encounter a block we can try a new technique right away.  We can be done today.”
I’m not sure if it was the desperation to cum, or the hypnotic suggestion of trust that did the job, but Micheal barely objected.  
“I . . . guess you’ve seen me in the showers at the gym before.  This isn’t that different right?  I mean, we have to fix this.”
“Then get started. This is about you and your head. The important part is trust and communication. Just sit down and start playing with yourself and tell me what's running through your head, what is working and what isn't working.”
“Like this?”  Michael pulled his pajama pants down under his balls.  His cock was already close to hard.  It was about 6 inches long, but thick, thicker than any I’d seen before sticking up out of a mass of reddish brown pubes.
“Good boy.”  I told him.  The effect was immediate.  He let out a gentle moan and rose to full mast almost instantly.  I take a wide stance and stand up right in front of him and make direct eye contact with him. “Now just tell me what gets you going.  It looks like you’re having a good time right now.  What’s getting your blood pumping man?”  As emphasis, I flex my cock.  Michael breaks eye contact with me briefly to watch.
“I . . . I imagine bodies.  Naked bodies.  Lots of them around me.  They are all firm and shapely.  They . . . uh, they look like you a little bit.”  Michael said hesitantly.  
“Really?  Well I did say I would do whatever it took to help you.”  I stripped off my shirt slowly.  Michael licked his lips involuntarily.  Then I quickly step out of my shorts, leaving me in just my jockstrap.  Michael stared at the bulge.  
"I'm guessing you want me to take this thing off too?" I pulled at the side of my jock letting it snap back against my waist. "What will you do once I take it off boy?"
A complex array of emotions runs over Michael’s face.  “I would . . .I - “  But I won out in the end.  “I’d suck your dick until you were dry!”
“Good boy!”  The affirmation of his desires along with the suggestion caused him to almost faint with pleasure. I noted to be more sparing with that trigger in future, to only give him that when he really deserves it.
I stepped in close and held his face to my crotch. I could feel him nuzzling his face against my thick cock. "That's enough for now boy."  He was too lost in his head to obey, so I took his head and pulled it away, pushing him back into the chair. "I said enough!"  He was a little shaken by his own desire.
I pulled the jockstrap down slowly until my 7.5 inch cock sprung up and pointed straight at him.
"Now you can get back here boy. Let's see how talented you are at sucking cock. Don't worry, I'll coach you through it."
He came towards me, almost in a haze, not realizing quite what he was doing, just knowing it felt right.  Michael was adorably eager, but unfortunately that doesn’t mean the same thing as good.  But he did take direction well.  I slowly taught him to keep proper pace, and to use his tongue well.  He quickly mastered each skill.  I let him take a break, having him suck on my balls for a while, giving me time to cool down.  It had the opposite effect on Michael though, causing his poor cock to throb menacingly.  
"Back to my cock now boy." He leaped to it, quickly engulfing it. I could feel my cum rising. "Keep going boy. Good, good, pay attention to your tongue-work. Mind the pace. Yes . . . yes . . ."
I couldn't hold back any more and let it shoot into his mouth. I made sure that the same second the cum hit his throat, the words 'Good boy' hit his ears. He writhed in pleasure as he sucked down my juices. My lithe body convulsed with each squirt, leaving me hunched over and lightly kissing the back of Michael's head as he suckled my now (temporarily) softening cock.  "We should probably take care of you now, don't you think boy?"
“Yes!  Yes please!  My balls are killing me bud!”
I firmly pushed him down so he was lying on ground.  He looked a little shocked that he did nothing to prevent it.  I lay down next to him, and look him directly in the eye.  
I slowly slid my hand up and down his cock, watching his face so I could find all the places where it was most sensitive. Once I mapped the territory, so to speak, I started to really play with his cock. I feel his warm body next to mine breathing and straining.
“Please, faster!”  He moaned.  
“No boy, we do this my way.”
Michael moaned, and nodded.  He kept staring right into my eyes, pleadingly at first, but as time went on the look became loving.  
After a good fifteen minutes he started to sweat and even get  little delirious in his low gravelly whimpering.
"You know what I think the problem is boy? I think you don't believe that you deserve to cum. Is that how you feel? Let's test that theory. Ask me for permission boy. Beg me."
“Please,” he says.  His voice doesn’t sound like the cocky jock I first met.  “Please man, I would do anything to cum.  Let me, please, I’m begging you!”
“Good boy.  I give you permission.  Cum for me.”  I barely got through the word permission before I felt his body start to spasm. I kept one hand on his chest, holding his body close to mine as my other hand milked every last drop from his cock. His orgasm lasted forever, and he squirted 16, maybe 17 times as I restrained him and kept him from rolling away from me. But the best part was the grunt that accompanied each new spurt of cum that sounded agonized and satisfied at the same time.
Once his pleasure subsided, I squooze out a few last drops. His cock was so sensitive that he twitched as I played with his spent cock.  But he was too exhausted to protest. Even as his erection faded, I'm sure he felt mine pressed up against his body.
I pulled his head to face me. "What a good boy." The words triggered a hard sigh from his pleasure-weary body.  I went in for a deep kiss. "So tell me Michael. How do you feel about what just happened?"
"It... It was the strongest orgasm... I've ever had..." He responded, panting. "I... I don't know how to thank you..."
"You learned the best way to thank me earlier jockboy, and you'll have so many more chances to practice that as my personal cocksucker." Hearing himself called a cocksucker turned his face crimson instantly. "Hah, too late to be shy now jockboy. You just swallowed my load and begged me to let you cum. I'm sure there is plenty more you'll be begging for soon Michael, so you better get used to it." I scooped all of the cum from his body and hold it under his lips.  "Lick up all of this mess you've made and admit that you're my cocksucker. Otherwise I won't let you do any of this again."
Michael looked confused.  He was trying to reconcile his past and his prejudices, with his new feelings and desires. But we both knew which part of him would win.
“You're my cocksucker. That's not a bad thing. I take very good care of my things, and it clearly makes you very happy. So say it yourself so I know that you understand it.”  He licked his cum from my fingers and said the words that would change his life forever.   If you enjoy this story, or have any thoughts or requests, email me at [email protected]
Hi, I’m Jim.  You probably care what I look like, so I’ll get that out of the way first.  I’m 27 but look much younger.  I’m in shape, but pretty scrawny.  I have a runner’s build, probably because I run 5ks a few times a month.  But I don’t have the muscle definition of your real jock types.  After my last relationship, I decided I wanted a dumb jock to bang.  I’ve always had a thing for the big muscular types. So I decided to start going to the gym to see if I could meet some people.  
I was really enjoying the eye candy, and making some new friends.  A few of the buff guys came over and started ‘mentoring’ me and giving me advice on how to get some bulk, and better definition.  It was cute, and fun having them spot me.  But these guys were straight.  Even if I could convince them to play around with me, they wouldn’t let me fuck them, or do any of my other favorite things with them.  But I kept coming in anyway, waiting for an opportunity to arise.  And sure enough, one did.  
His name was Michael.  He hit 30 a few months back, and had been freaking out about it a little.  You see, he worked as a pharmaceutical sales rep.  They get hired for being attractive, and as they age they either get moved up to management or get laid off.  Michael was not going to get moved up to management.  He had the charisma for it, but not the brains.  Good decisions, even common sense, were not really his strong suit.  He had just enough self-awareness to realize this about himself though and was worried his firm was going to fire him.  
I didn’t think he had to worry about getting fired any time soon, his looks were nowhere close to fading.  He had piercing blue eyes and a strong jaw, though his ears were slightly large on him.  He had a broad muscular chest with a long tapered torso, and a great 6-pack.  His legs were thick and strong with amazing calves.  And all of it was covered with a light blond fuzz.  He had a dumb tattoo on either side of his body, a dragon on one side, and fire on the other, to match his chinese zodiac he said.  It turns out he was born in January though, and no one told him that the Chinese year doesn’t start January 1st.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him he was really a wood rabbit, partly because it would embarrass him, but mostly because I didn’t want to see him get a rabbit tattooed on his ass.  
Michael had always been very kind and encouraging to me at the gym, offering advice and support.  We even went out for drinks a few times.  He paid, I calculated the tip.  I thought he was gay for a little while, but I think he was just lonely or enjoyed how I complimented his body.   He would call me and ask for my opinion on current events sometimes, getting an explanation and taking notes so he could use my opinions to sound smarter to the doctors on his route. I’m sure his doctors cared about his brains just as much as I did.  


He called me one night, wanting to talk.  He was having a rough time.  He was worried about losing his looks still, and his girlfriend of two years had just left him as well.  He was depressed and anxious, and having trouble concentrating at work, and having trouble sticking to his diet and workout.  He felt his life was spiraling out of control.  I did my best to reassure him, but he was panicking (and probably a little bit drunk).  I suggested he see a therapist for a while.
“I’m not crazy, Jim!  And I’m not talking to some stranger about my life!” He yelled.
“I know you’re not crazy.  Just try to stay calm, everything will work out.”
“You don’t know that!  Everything is falling apart!”
“Look, you liked meditation when you tried it before, right?  It helped?”
I had suggested mediation to him a while back, loaning him some guided meditation CDs.  He told me that he had, and I quote “Found it really easy to empty my mind.” I kid you not.  
“Yeah, those were good, but they aren’t helping right now,” Michael replied.
“Well, I’ve been looking into hypnotism for a while now.  I helped a few friends with some issues.  I could help you too, if you wanted.”
“You mean like the swinging watch stuff, that really works?” he said, confused?
“Yeah, it can really help.”
“So you want to mind control my life better?”
“Hypnotism isn’t mind control.  Just think of it as a more intense, personalized guided meditation.  The meditation worked for you, right?.  This would just take it to the next level.”
“I did like the meditation,” Michael confirmed, “How does it work?” he asked.
“Hypnotism unshackles your conscious mind, helping you use your un- and sub-conscious mind to better effect,” I explained.
“Huh?”
“Look, your mind is worried and nervous, and doing dumb things to try to make you feel better but it isn’t working.  Using hypnotism, we can make that part of you quieter and give control to the deeper parts of your mind.  Use those parts to give you the extra focus and calm that you need.”
“I guess that sounds cool, man.  But how do I know you won’t make me do something dumb like woof like a dog or something?”
“Hypnotism doesn’t really work like that,” I lied.  “All it can do it let stuff from your subconscious come up.  You’re really the one in control, you do all of the work yourself.  I’m just there spotting you, making sure your subconscious doesn’t strain itself or let too much out.”
“Yeah?  Ok, that makes sense.  You’d really help me out like this?  When could we start?”
“Of course I would.  We can start whenever you want.”
“Tonight?  Could you come over and help me tonight?” Michael asked, almost pleadingly.  
“Sure.”


I went over to his place immediately.  He answered the door wearing pants and a salmon dress shirt.  It looks quite good on him, but even better was the fact that the shirt was completely unbuttoned, showing off his body.  
“Hey buddy, I’m glad you came,” Michael said, taking me inside.  “So, how does this work.”
“Sit down on the couch for me and just try to relax.”
He got comfortable and I began.  I started by giving him breathing exercises, having him take very slow, very deep breaths, focusing on feeling the air enter his throat and lungs, calming him.  Focusing on feeling the stress leaving his body as he exhaled.  I told him to stop trying to control his thoughts, letting them come, acknowledging them, and letting them go again.  I took him through a progressive muscle relaxation exercise, helping him relax every muscle in his body in turn.  Once I could see that he was very relaxed, I started the induction.  
It didn’t take long to turn his conscious mind off.  I tested my control over him, having him raise and lower and arm.  That was fast.  Could I control his autonomous body functions as well?  I told him to get an erection.  I could see the tent start to form in his pants in seconds.  I was tempted to have him take his pants off right now, but I thought better of it.  Michael was clearly a very good subject.  I put in my bookmark.  “Michael, when you hear me say the word ‘Trance’ in future, I want you to come back to this state.  Do you understand?”
“Yes”, came his monotone reply.
Now that the basics were taken care of, I got to work.  Most of what I did was really for his benefit.  I gave him the tools to call up this calm and fight his anxiety.  I gave him the ability to focus better, have better recall, to be more confident and charismatic.  Really, I did for him what should have taken years of therapy and coaching.  So why not put in a little something fun, just for me?  I’d earned it,
"Michael, you will not be able to achieve orgasm from mastubation. You can try as much as you want, but your own hands will no longer satisfy you.  Do you understand?"
“I will not be able to achieve orgasm from masturbation”, he repeated.
"Good.  When you wake up, you will feel happy, satisfied, and refreshed, remembering nothing about what we talked about. Being under is one of the best feelings you've had. You want to be hypnotized again. When you wake up, you will immediately thank me, and give me a kind and genuine compliment. You will wake in 3 . . . 2. . . 1 . ."
Michael woke up smiling.  “Oh wow, that feels . . . good.  Thanks bud.  That really helped.  I always know I can count on you.  I don’t have a lot of people I can count on.  I appreciate it.”
“No worries man!  So it really worked?  You feel better?  I haven’t done too much of this before.”  I confided.
“Yeah, it worked!  It felt like I only took a nap, but I feel so calm now.  Want to grab dinner?  My treat, it’s the least I can do.”  Michael offered.
It was good to see Michael back to his old self, so upbeat and charming.  Dinner was tasty (and free for me!) and we both had a great time, talking well into the night.  The next afternoon he called me to thank me again.
“Hey bud, I just wanted to call and thank you again.  You’re a miracle worker!  I’m still feeling calm today, but even better, I can remember whole fact-sheets without having to look them up.  I just have to think about it and it’s there!  And my morning workout was amazing!  I was able to push myself so much harder than ever.  It’s amazing!  Anyway, I have to go, but thanks again buddy, I owe you one.”


He didn’t call again for two more days.  When my phone did right, I had a suspicion I knew why.  "Hey Jim.  So you know that thing we did the other day?  I was wondering, maybe we could do another session buddy?  Because, one session is probably not going to cut it, is it?"
“Hey Michael, good to hear from you again.  Yeah, I can do another session with you.  When are you free?”
“Uhh, now?  Can we do it now-ish?”
“Sure.  I’ll be on my way in a few minutes.  Is everything ok man?”
“Yeah, I’m ok.  It’s just . . . well, we’ll talk about it later.”


I headed on over.  He was dressed in sweatpants and no shirt.  I was entranced by seeing his body hair thicken and turn into a tuft right before it disappeared into his low-riding pants.  Luckily, he seemed a little too nervous to notice my gaze.
“What’s up Michael, is everything ok?  Is the hypnotism still working?  Have there been any side effects?” I asked innocently.  He blushed deeply, the flush spreading from his face all the way down to his chest.  
"Honestly, it worked really well.  I didn't expect it to, but it worked and I really enjoyed it.  However, I’ve felt a little . . . tense afterward. And I haven’t been able to properly . . . relax, if you know what I mean."
"That's ok. It's natural. Sometimes where you play with the subconscious, it brings some baggage with it. It can . . . feel empowered if you will, and try to bring other issue to the surface. We just need to think things through and figure out what's going on. So it sounds like you're having trouble sleeping? What do you think could be causing that?" I smile kindly as I misinterpret his reference to 'relaxing'.
“Uhh, no.”  Michael said, clearly uncomfortable.  “I was feeling pretty great, and I decided to have . . . a little alone time.  So I put on some porn and started . . . you know.  But I couldn’t finish.  Didn’t matter what I tried, I couldn’t finish!  Do you think the hypnotism could have caused this?  Can we turn it back?”
“Oh.  Wow.”  I do my best to play up the awkwardness of this moment.  “This could be about a lack of . . .  companionship.  You did go through a breakup lately.  You haven’t started dating since she left you.  So maybe your subconscious is saying that you are not getting the satisfaction you need from the porn, that it wants something different?
“That could be.  That’s deep man.  I didn’t know I was so deep.  But I’m not sure I’m ready for that.  Can’t you just put me back under and . . . correct it?”
“It’s not that simple.  Once you wake these things up, you have to work through them.  You wouldn’t want to undo the other effects, would you?”
“No, I guess not.  But . . . there really isn’t anything you can do?”
“Well, I guess I could give it a try.  Trance!”
Michael slumped over instantly and I got to work.  First, I went through the relaxation again and helped him get into a deep hypnotic state again and then reinforced the ‘Trance’ command.  Then I took some time reinforcing everything I had done last time, boosting his focus and calm.  Making him enjoy being under.  And making sure he wouldn’t be able to masturbate.  Originally, I didn’t think the masturbation trick would work on him, not for long anyway.  Hormones are a powerful thing.  But it has worked.  So while I was in his head and on a roll, I decided to try taking things one step further.  
"You will find yourself unable to achieve orgasm in the presence of women. You might even find it hard to achieve an erection, but you definitely will not be able to cum.  Do you understand Michael?"
“Yes.  I will not be able to get hard or cum with a woman.”
“Very good.  Also, you will discover yourself becoming aroused by men, specifically young men.  Lean masculine bodies, deep voices, and manly smells.  Wake up in 3 . . . . 2 . . . . 1 . . . . "
Michael woke up relaxed.  “Wow, that feels good.  So, were you able to fix things buddy?”
“I don’t know.  I tried, but you never know.  You should probably try to solve that companionship issue though.  It’s time you got over your ex anyway.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right man.  Maybe I’ll go to a bar tonight and see what happens.  You want to come with, be my wingman?  Maybe we can hook you up with a hot chick too!”
“No thanks man, I’m good”, I declined.  “But you have fun.  Tell me all about it tomorrow.”


I got a call from him the next morning.  “Jim!  I need you help!”
“Michael?”
“Yes, please come over buddy, I need your help!”
“I can’t man, I’m about to go running.  I’m already dressed and everything.”
“No, no, no, you don’t understand.  I need you, please!”
“Ok, ok, I’ll come over.”

He answered the door before I even had a chance to knock, he must have been looking for me.  Michael looked like shit.  Well, as bad as someone as handsome as he was could look.  It looked like he hadn’t slept.  “What’s going on, what’s the emergency?”
He told me the whole story.  He had gone out the the bar last night trying to find someone to go home with.  Unsurprisingly, he didn’t have much trouble finding someone.  He described her in great detail, but I’ll save you the time.  She was attractive.  She was skilled.  She was unable to get him hard.  Michael sent her home and then tried to get himself off.  This hadn’t worked either.  But when he put on some porn, he found himself looking more at the guy than anything.  That was what finally got him hard.  It still didn’t help him cum though.  
I feigned surprise.  “Oh wow, so you think you might be gay?  That’s not something hypnotism can fix.”
“I don’t know man!  I never thought of gay stuff before, I was only into women.  Do you think my subconscious was hiding it all this time?  Ugh, I’m so horny I can’t think.  I haven’t cum for days now!”
“Look, I’ve been doing some research lately, and I think I can help you with the masturbation issues.”  I point to a book I brought with me.  “I think I have a way to fix that.  Do you want to give that a try?”
“Yes, yes please.  If we fix that, we can deal with everything else later.  Thank you so much for helping me with this man.”  
He slipped into the trance quickly and deeply. He'd taken to falling under my control like a fish to water.
"Ok Michael, can you hear my voice?"
"Yes" he replied in his entranced monotone.
"Good. I have a few new things for you today. First up, whenever you hear yourself called a 'Good boy' you will feel warm and safe. You will also feel a surge of pleasure come over your entire body. Do you understand?
"Yes."
"Good boy."
His already relaxed body slumped a little more and a smile passed over his lips. He shuddered with pleasure.  I notice him start to sprout a half-boner. Things were going well.
"Ok, next thing Hugh. You trust me. I am your safe haven. You can tell me anything you want. You know I would never hurt you or do anything that would harm you. Anything I do must be in your best interest, by definition, no matter how it might seem. Do you believe that?"
"Yes." He seemed enraptured, smiling and safe.
"The last thing, and I want you to put this as deep into your mind as possible. You will not be able to cum ever again, unless first get permission from someone you really trust. Do you have that one?"
"Yes." He nodded seriously. I started bringing Micheal out of the trance, assuring him that he will feel calm and rested and full of energy without memory of what we talked about as soon as he comes out of the trance in 3 . . . 2. . . 1. . . .
"Welcome back!" I give him a playful punch in the shoulder. I found out some interesting stuff in there, but I think we can put some of it to use. Anyway, how are you feeling?
“I. . . I dunno.  I feel good I think.  Thank you for this.  I don’t know what I’d do if it weren’t for you.”
“That’s ok, any time Michael.  But this might get a little awkward.  I don’t know if what I did worked.  There are about a dozen different techniques I can try though, so don’t worry.  So, if you want, I can go home and if it doesn’t work, I can come back and try something new the next day.”  I explained slowly.
“Wait, so that could take up to a week?!  I can’t last that long!”
Math wasn’t his strong suit.  “Maybe even longer”, I explained.  “But we could try something else.  If you wanted you could try here and now.  And if you encounter a block we can try a new technique right away.  We can be done today.”
I’m not sure if it was the desperation to cum, or the hypnotic suggestion of trust that did the job, but Micheal barely objected.  
“I . . . guess you’ve seen me in the showers at the gym before.  This isn’t that different right?  I mean, we have to fix this.”
“Then get started. This is about you and your head. The important part is trust and communication. Just sit down and start playing with yourself and tell me what's running through your head, what is working and what isn't working.”
“Like this?”  Michael pulled his pajama pants down under his balls.  His cock was already close to hard.  It was about 6 inches long, but thick, thicker than any I’d seen before sticking up out of a mass of reddish brown pubes.
“Good boy.”  I told him.  The effect was immediate.  He let out a gentle moan and rose to full mast almost instantly.  I take a wide stance and stand up right in front of him and make direct eye contact with him. “Now just tell me what gets you going.  It looks like you’re having a good time right now.  What’s getting your blood pumping man?”  As emphasis, I flex my cock.  Michael breaks eye contact with me briefly to watch.
“I . . . I imagine bodies.  Naked bodies.  Lots of them around me.  They are all firm and shapely.  They . . . uh, they look like you a little bit.”  Michael said hesitantly.  
“Really?  Well I did say I would do whatever it took to help you.”  I stripped off my shirt slowly.  Michael licked his lips involuntarily.  Then I quickly step out of my shorts, leaving me in just my jockstrap.  Michael stared at the bulge.  
"I'm guessing you want me to take this thing off too?" I pulled at the side of my jock letting it snap back against my waist. "What will you do once I take it off boy?"
A complex array of emotions runs over Michael’s face.  “I would . . .I - “  But I won out in the end.  “I’d suck your dick until you were dry!”
“Good boy!”  The affirmation of his desires along with the suggestion caused him to almost faint with pleasure. I noted to be more sparing with that trigger in future, to only give him that when he really deserves it.
I stepped in close and held his face to my crotch. I could feel him nuzzling his face against my thick cock. "That's enough for now boy."  He was too lost in his head to obey, so I took his head and pulled it away, pushing him back into the chair. "I said enough!"  He was a little shaken by his own desire.
I pulled the jockstrap down slowly until my 7.5 inch cock sprung up and pointed straight at him.
"Now you can get back here boy. Let's see how talented you are at sucking cock. Don't worry, I'll coach you through it."
He came towards me, almost in a haze, not realizing quite what he was doing, just knowing it felt right.  Michael was adorably eager, but unfortunately that doesn’t mean the same thing as good.  But he did take direction well.  I slowly taught him to keep proper pace, and to use his tongue well.  He quickly mastered each skill.  I let him take a break, having him suck on my balls for a while, giving me time to cool down.  It had the opposite effect on Michael though, causing his poor cock to throb menacingly.  
"Back to my cock now boy." He leaped to it, quickly engulfing it. I could feel my cum rising. "Keep going boy. Good, good, pay attention to your tongue-work. Mind the pace. Yes . . . yes . . ."
I couldn't hold back any more and let it shoot into his mouth. I made sure that the same second the cum hit his throat, the words 'Good boy' hit his ears. He writhed in pleasure as he sucked down my juices. My lithe body convulsed with each squirt, leaving me hunched over and lightly kissing the back of Michael's head as he suckled my now (temporarily) softening cock.  "We should probably take care of you now, don't you think boy?"
“Yes!  Yes please!  My balls are killing me bud!”
I firmly pushed him down so he was lying on ground.  He looked a little shocked that he did nothing to prevent it.  I lay down next to him, and look him directly in the eye.  
I slowly slid my hand up and down his cock, watching his face so I could find all the places where it was most sensitive. Once I mapped the territory, so to speak, I started to really play with his cock. I feel his warm body next to mine breathing and straining.
“Please, faster!”  He moaned.  
“No boy, we do this my way.”
Michael moaned, and nodded.  He kept staring right into my eyes, pleadingly at first, but as time went on the look became loving.  
After a good fifteen minutes he started to sweat and even get  little delirious in his low gravelly whimpering.
"You know what I think the problem is boy? I think you don't believe that you deserve to cum. Is that how you feel? Let's test that theory. Ask me for permission boy. Beg me."
“Please,” he says.  His voice doesn’t sound like the cocky jock I first met.  “Please man, I would do anything to cum.  Let me, please, I’m begging you!”
“Good boy.  I give you permission.  Cum for me.”  I barely got through the word permission before I felt his body start to spasm. I kept one hand on his chest, holding his body close to mine as my other hand milked every last drop from his cock. His orgasm lasted forever, and he squirted 16, maybe 17 times as I restrained him and kept him from rolling away from me. But the best part was the grunt that accompanied each new spurt of cum that sounded agonized and satisfied at the same time.
Once his pleasure subsided, I squooze out a few last drops. His cock was so sensitive that he twitched as I played with his spent cock.  But he was too exhausted to protest. Even as his erection faded, I'm sure he felt mine pressed up against his body.
I pulled his head to face me. "What a good boy." The words triggered a hard sigh from his pleasure-weary body.  I went in for a deep kiss. "So tell me Michael. How do you feel about what just happened?"
"It... It was the strongest orgasm... I've ever had..." He responded, panting. "I... I don't know how to thank you..."
"You learned the best way to thank me earlier jockboy, and you'll have so many more chances to practice that as my personal cocksucker." Hearing himself called a cocksucker turned his face crimson instantly. "Hah, too late to be shy now jockboy. You just swallowed my load and begged me to let you cum. I'm sure there is plenty more you'll be begging for soon Michael, so you better get used to it." I scooped all of the cum from his body and hold it under his lips.  "Lick up all of this mess you've made and admit that you're my cocksucker. Otherwise I won't let you do any of this again."
Michael looked confused.  He was trying to reconcile his past and his prejudices, with his new feelings and desires. But we both knew which part of him would win.
“You're my cocksucker. That's not a bad thing. I take very good care of my things, and it clearly makes you very happy. So say it yourself so I know that you understand it.”  He licked his cum from my fingers and said the words that would change his life forever.   


Thanks for reading.  If you enjoyed this story, or have any thoughts or requests, email me at [email protected]

 

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