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Review This Story || Author: Emile

The Hypnotist

Part 6

Hypno 6

by Emile


Copyright 2008.  This is a work of fantasy and the writer does not suggest or condone any particular activities.  You should obey the laws of your juristiction, ie consensual sex between adults.


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So he dickslapped you in school eh.  I mean it's pretty perverted that he dressed you in that dorky school uniform, when the school doesn't have one, and you're clearly twice the age of those teen punks.  Made you take his classes wearing those tight wool shorts that moulded to your horsecock, and starched shirt that scratched at your nipples.  I mean they're both way too small, you look like a freak. Especially turning up barefoot and freeballing, all sweaty and funky from beating off in Cassius' car.  The 'niggerlover' tat on your forearm must've also given it away, I mean the black ink letters are two inches high at least so it's pretty hard to miss when you stripped the shirt off an put your hands behind your head.  And if the sight of sweat coursing from your shaved pits didn't distract them.  But the teachers did nothing eh, I guess they're scared of Cassius too.  I guess that's why he got away with the dickwhipping in study hall.  In front of all those guys, you must've felt pretty low, especially getting jerked on by a high school punk like him, I mean how many other muscle jocks would just kneel like that an take it.


Your big stallion fucker looks pretty irritated, dark red and veiny like that.  Was it the coarse wool schoolpants?  Having to jerk off constantly without relief?  Maybe just the pain of a full pussystuffer that is constantly squeezed and jabbed by those rough teens.  Well anyway, keep jerking, nice quick strokes, I want to hear you groan and see you sweat like our first time.  I don't care if half the gym can hear.


Now I've got some bad news for you. This morning I put Charlie on a greyhound bus for a mining town.  Part of his journey to find his inner hick self.  Now you guys have been real close since you moved in, not just the sucking and fucking part, that's a given, both of you guys can stretch around the other's fat stalk now with barely any effort - but despite being two fully grown muscle jocks forced to hang off each other's slick tools, you bonded.  Some kinda strength in adversity shit I'll bet.  And of course two handsome adult men, flaunting their bodies, everyone thought you were some homo couple, but then that's okay now, I hear some folks even commented it was nice to see two strong young men for a change.  I ain't having none of that. Charlie'll be in a pretty remote town for a few months, helping the mining boys out.  I gave him lots of specific instructions when I gave him his final shave down.  Of course, wearing just the shorts and 'Out & Proud' tee, I might not have needed to.  Maybe he can find out some info about that gay bashing ring that was in the press, they sounded pretty inventive.


Well anyway, I've got you a new workout partner, Brad, who'll be sharing Charlie's flat with you until Charlie gets back.  He's  16, and I doubt you'll get much acceptance parading around with a teen jock half your age.  I mean, around Cassius, in the hood, everyone can tell you're just his white boy bitch, but walking around respectable suburbs with your hands on a half naked scared looking colt, and you'll get looks.  Especially when you meet him after school - I'm gonna yank him out as soon as the term is done, but he's still got some weeks to go.  When he's not skipping it to be here, that is. Oh, the fun we'll have.  He's due back from his 20 mile run soon. Let me tell you a bit about him  before he gets back.


His only family is his father and brother, really handsome the three of them, but when they lost their mother they were pretty distraught.  Since the therapist knew I did hypnosis, she asked me if I could get them to relax, get their minds off their grief.  Well the moment I saw the strapping dad and his two sons, I guess I got a bit carried away.  The dad, Chad, had green eyes and dark hair, all over really, quite a swarthy tank of a guy.  He'd been in the army and had a rough, take-no-prisoners attitude that made him seem older than his 37 years.  God fearing man, I believe, and he brought his sons up strict catholics too.  More strict than catholic I think, their last confessional was years ago.  Of course after our first session, I made him go right away - but I'll get back to that.


His youngest, Brad was 16, your new gym partner, is a real workhorse like his dad, with the same dark hair and grey eyes, a real football jock, and with his arresting looks, had all the girls eating out of his hands, although since his mother's death he was pretty cut up too, and had gone off cunt somewhat.  The older son, Thad was just turning 18, and was much more like his mother, slight, lanky, more a bookish type I guess, her grey eyes and dirty blonde hair.  The other two were a bit cold to him, which the therapist thought mightbe because he reminding them of her, although I think it was just the usual jock-hates-nerd complex.  And as you know more than anyone, it's my mission to bring down these jocks a peg or two.  Yes, including you fuckface, stop moaning unless your about to cum?  You're close?  Well  then slow down, real light strokes now, until you're just on the brink.  That's right.  I love it when you drool like that, it must really ache with fucklust.  No cumming, just squeeze out the precum, nice and slow.


Well, anyway, if it was a bit more love the therapist was after, I gave it to them.  I had them sit in separate rooms for the sessions, and after they were mesmerised, had them strip down naked. It turned out they were worth my attention. See the family had inherited good genes - good jean-packing fuckers I mean, the father and jock son both packing thick 9" choads and hairy bodies, only the older son had a long thin dick, more a piston than a bottle.  Still at 11x2", it was no mean feat.  But I could tell, if this family was to get over its problems, I had work to do.


I told the dad and Brad that if they wanted to be muscle jocks, they should look more like them.  Brad had already had his main growth spurt, and his solid muscular frame was tight and coiled like a panther.  What did a kid like that need with school?  I told him to start coming to my gym every day, that I would put him through his paces properly.  I told him we'd start for a triathalon - running, swimming and cycling, with boxing and wrestling to round out the week.  At this stage he was pretty unhappy about getting cut off from school - not sure if it was the thought of being stuck dumb or losing contact with chicks - but he was pretty unresistant, despite having his bulging frame on display, my hands casually touching his meaty body as I explained.


Since it was going so well, I showed him his new workout clothes - which I told him he'd be wearing all day on each of his training days.  Running shorts, swim trunks, cycle pants, boxers, wrestling suit - all tight white thin fabric.  Nothing else.  At this stage he began to get agitated.  I also told him he'd have to change his diet - more protein (he'd soon find out what that meant), and less of everything else - I wanted him ripped.  To round out his days, since even dumb jocks can't train 24/7, he'd do community service - picking up roadside garbage, helping out at retirement homes - that kind of stuff.  Yep, still in his workout gear.  I wondered how many more roving hands would be feeling him up while he bent down for scraps, or tucked in beds at the local (gay) seniors home.  Tears rolled down his cheeks, so I patted him on the back, lightly kneading the V shaped shoulderblades.  Don't worry, I said, you'll still have your nights and weekends with your family.  Just think of your new life as a near naked muscle himbo as your day release.  Any hey, who knows, there'll be happy days too -  I mean think of the race days.


I made the colt squeeze into the gear as we chatted, and he was currently sliding the swim trunks up his tree-trunk thighs.  The shorts had been small, but the swimsuit was ridiculously small, his balls plumping out the base, and stalk stretching out the rest of the material, pulling the leg straps an inch clear of his narrow waist.  Sliding my hand over his abs, until my fingers grazed the semi-exposed cockhead, I leaned in close, and told him swim day was definitely going to have to be his day at the homeless shelter. That sent him over the edge, and I left him in the room, curled up in a ball, bawling.  And I hadn't even told him about the cum control.


Since then, of course, we've done much more than that - like I had his dad pluck out his cock and ball hair - until his sac was smooth and leathery - and just 16 hairs were left above his cock - I'm letting him grow one new one next year.  You'll see how obscene it looks on the teen dude to have full chest and underarm hair over his taut torso, but only the lightest sprinkling of cockhair around his cuntbuster.  That plus I cleaned up his mop of dark hair into a nice short buzzcut, stubble really, except a nice mohawk strip in the middle.  Nice and fag-cunty, especially shirtless, that should keep any good samaritans at bay.


Anyway, getting back to the family, since you'll have a lot of time to get to know Brad intimately soon, in the next room was Chad, his dad.  At 37 he was taller and bulkier than Brad, and years of hard training, and the loss of his wife, showed their toll.  Still he had an exceptional body, and an arresting handsome face, which he hid with baggy clothes and dorky caps like any old suburban dad.  The army had given him a 3 month leave pass to get over his grief, and I thought he could do with a hobby.  Dildos.  Actually, not just any dildos, brutal, knobbly arse reamers, the kinds that need suction caps so they grip the floor during impalement.  Of course even the hungriest arses take years to get loose enough to want these brutal dongs, but not Chad, he was going on an intensive program - an inch a day for a week, not so bad, unless you start at 8 inches.  I made sure he bought each one at 8am, when the adult store opened, like any eager customer, and carry it home in his hands.  A bit embarrassing trying to conceal an 8 inch rubber knob when you're walking home in rush hour, especially the mile or so he had to travel, but a hell of a lot harder holding the 15 inch thick buster, let me tell you.  Of course, I didn't want him hiding it, so I made him just wear a pair of yellow boxers, the kind that has no real support.  Yeah, and the previous day's dildo, in case he got any funny ideas about cramming it in early.


Chad was beside himself after the first day.  Having someone watch you cram a pink fleshy fake cock up your virgin chute, taking photos, your knees spread and abs crunched is pretty bad, but doing it on your marital bed, with your kids downstairs, that would've been hard.  See none of them knew, yet, what the others endured.  But then, having to get up at 5am to grunt and grease and pound a 13 inch pussy rammer into your still semi-elastic hole, in the bathroom meters from your teenage sons' room, so you can waddle through town like a porn star to buy the next monster dong - that really broke him.  And he used to get the biggest boners from the pressure on his prostate - his thick swinging engorged pizzle was constantly aroused, and would get achingly stiff from the constant pounding on the morning walk.  Of course I had him pump it as he slowly extracted the old dildo, and then really jerk off hard once the new one had eventually been forced into place, until by day 5, he told me the ache in his nuts was unbearable.  Why do you think dumbarse, like you, he wasn't allowed to cum.


Well I could hardly let that reamed out blue balled hunk go to waste.  So, in my sessions with his older son, I made Thad into Tabitha.  Of course the stupid kid cried, bawled really, as I made him wear his mother's short cocktail dresses, doing nothing to hide his hard drippy stalk. The poor kid was a horny fucker too, not much with the girls, and he used to jerk off three times a day, copious loads spirting from the end of his pointed dork.  Each day once Brad had started his training, Thad would come into my office and practice his sashay, wearing heels, all the instruction a young woman needs.  And I kept him nice and hard with a viagra each day, until his long stalk dripped fucksnot constantly in his panties.


Then at the end of that week, I revealed all.  That day at home, I brought Chad his home gear - a hot pink posing pouch, with thin straps tied at the rear.  From now on, he'd be constantly plugged with that 15 inch superdong, unless he was preparing for a good fucking.  Of course, in that pouch, his sons would easily see the enormous base, but in case they were slow, I shaved "SLUT" into his thick chest hair for good measure.  His only other clothes now were the boxers, for outdoor wear.  Of course he'd have to wash them both regularly, since the leaking arse juice and precum would stain it pretty quickly, not to mention his ballstink.  While he did that, he'd be buck naked, so I told him to pull out the rubber cock too and give that a good lick down too while he waited for the machine.  Full cycle.  Hopefully they don't get too threadbare. About an hour before, I made him haul the weight machine up from the basement, and set it up opposite the front door.  It was hard, sweat work, but it'd be worth it - He'd be pumping iron, legs straddling the workbench, when his sons came home.  As a final touch I gave him a tight silver cockring, and went to pick up the boys.


At that point, they both were reasonably dressed for school - Thad still wore his usual clothes, and I'd relaxed the rule for Brad for now.  I made Brad get in front, and Thad in the back.  After I told Brad to look straight forward and not turn around, I told Thad to change into his clothes.  There next to him was a full french maid's uniform.  Of course, if he was embarassed about stripping down and donning womens clothes in the back, then my wandering hand over Brad's body, stripping down his pants to play with his hard and near hairless cock, was distraction enough for both.  The silence could be cut by a knife.  Once Brad was breathing qucikly, and desperate to cum, I turned around, noting Thad's passable effort at a french maid, cocklump notwithstanding.  We'd have to work on that.  I told Brad to climb into the back with his brother, pants down and still stiff.  As they stared at each other in horror, I told them that while Thad wore a dress, he now wore the pants, so as to speak.  Anything he said was an order to the other two.  If he was hungry Brad would cook.  If he had homework Brad would do it.  And when he felt horny, he'd have to help him out too.  Of course when Brad wasn't around, Thad was told to go to Chad.  So, I said, Brad, why don't you give your new mom a nice big sloppy kiss, and finger her panties like she so loves.  We were almost home.


Speaking of which, I think I  can hear the studfuck now...


Review This Story || Author: Emile
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