Project: SEAL Trance, Part 3
by Wrestlr and VA23456
[M/M, MC, hypno]
Disclaimer: There's sex, sodomy, and maybe a few other minor perversions
in this. If you don't like that sort of thing, read something else.
Everybody in the is legal age. Parts of this may be
autobiographical, or it might be all fiction---who can say?
Copyright - 2000 by Wrestlr and VA234556. Permission granted to archive
if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is
charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your
site, you can't use this without the express permission of (and payment to)
the authors. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.
Comments to wrestlr@iname.com and VA23456@aol.com.
Wrestlr's fiction is archived at the following URLs:
o http://members.tripod.com/~Brock_J (MC and general M/M stories)
o <li><a
href="http://www.asstr.org/~wrestlr">http://www.asstr.org/~wrestlr
o http://www.asstr.org/~mcstories/Authors/Wrestlr.html
* * *
Project: SEAL Trance, Part 3
Control
"So, where's the rest of the team?" I whispered to Doc when Chris
excused himself to hit the bathroom.
"That part's easy, Kyle," Doc said. "Since we have the most work to do
with Chris taking orders from you, I thought we should work with him
privately first."
"Good thinking, Doc," I said, grinning.
The plan had been that Doc was going to do some preparation during the
week and then we'd get together on Saturday so I could watch him program
Chris and the others to let me be in charge. That's why I was sort of
surprised when Doc called me Thursday and told me to meet him at Chris'
apartment that evening after I got off duty. The official reason I was to
give Chris for wanting to come over was, I wanted another try at learning
those visualization techniques. But who cared about that shit? I was
getting what I wanted, and I was going to get it early. Woo-hoo!
The rest of the day, I was flying high. Chris busted my ass all over
the place, riding me like his own personal mule. He had me running so late
I even had to go directly over to his place after work--didn't have a
chance to stop by my place to change out of my uniform. I put up with his
shit the whole day, grinning to myself and thinking, Just you wait, Chris,
ol' buddy--you're about to get yours.
I probably should have begged off because, the way Chris had run me
ragged all day, I was exhausted and irritable when I got to his place.
Hell, I was two steps away from a headache. I just wanted to relax, have a
beer, and veg out in front of the tube; and if it weren't for the fact that
I deserved to be in charge of the team as soon as possible, I would have
postponed it until Saturday like Doc and I originally planned.
So when we were all sitting in Chris' living room again, Doc offered to
help Chris demonstrate how learning the techniques would work. Doc said,
"Kyle, are you ready to begin?"
Just sitting there with half a beer in me, tired as I was, was making me
sleepy. I was still fighting off that headache, but I said, "Sure, Doc,"
barely managing to suppress my grin.
"Chris, how about you?"
"Uh, you're the boss, Doc."
Not exactly, I thought, not for long.
"So, Chris, can you remember a time when you were really motivated to do
something?"
"Sure. Lots of times."
"Pick one particular time. Was there ever a situation in which you were
exceptionally motivated?"
"Yeah."
"What about you, Kyle? Do you remember a time when you were
exceptionally motivated?"
I guess I looked a little surprised for a second, because I hadn't
expected him to get me involved in it, but I said, "Yeah."
Doc turned back to Chris. "What did that feel like, Chris? Can you
tell me about one time when you felt particularly motivated? What did it
feel like to be totally motivated?"
"It felt--"
"Being motivated makes you feel good, right?"
"Yeah."
"Remember how good it felt? Just like those times when I hypnotized
you. Being motivated helps you focus, relax, and let go. Remember?"
"Yeah ..."
"What happens to you as you begin to feel motivated?"
"I relax and let go ..."
"That's right. Just like you're doing now. Right, Chris?"
"... right ..." Already Chris' voice was getting quieter, softer, more
distant.
"You're such a good subject. It's so easy for you to feel motivated.
You're already feeling that way again. So pleasant, so relaxed, so
focused. The same way you feel when you let me hypnotize you. Yes. You're
letting me hypnotize you again now, aren't you, Chris?"
"... yeah, I am ..."
"Because it helps you feel so good. You like this relaxed feeling,
don't you? Just let your thoughts drift, Chris."
I listened to Doc hypnotize Chris, and I couldn't help wondering how it
felt. Did it really feel that good, or was Doc just saying that? I did
some of the breathing exercises along with Chris--on the sly, without
letting Doc see me doing it--and it helped me relax a little, helped keep
that headache at bay. No harm in that, huh?
I watched the Doc talk Chris down. The more he worked him, the more
fixated I became on the process. I wanted to remember it all. As I
listened, running his words over in my head so I wouldn't forget them, I
could practically feel the power the Doc had over Chris. The room was full
of this strong presence, Doc's presence.
Sometimes Doc screwed up and called Chris "Kyle," like he was talking to
me too or something, but when he'd do that I'd just grunt or say yeah, and
he'd move on. Mostly, though he seemed pretty focused on Chris, and vice
versa, like they'd forgotten I was there. All the better--that way I could
concentrate on learning the "talk" so I could use it later on.
"Just listening to my voice helps you feel so pleasantly relaxed,
doesn't it, Chris?" Doc was saying. "Listening to my voice helps you bring
back that feeling you get whenever you're hypnotized. The feeling you're
getting again now. So relaxed. Body so relaxed and so heavy. Getting so
very hard to think clearly. Drifting back into that pleasant state of
hypnosis. Like you're drifting off to sleep. Sleep now, Chris. Close
your eyes and sleep."
When Chris' eyes closed and his head dropped forward, I leaned in more,
almost not believing my eyes. Actually seeing it happen in front of me
reinforced my interest in learning the "talk." I had to make sure I had it
all down exactly.
"Is this where you tell him I'm in charge?" I whispered.
"Not yet," Doc said. "First, I need to work on reinforcing some of his
previous suggestions, including some of the--er--escort suggestions. Then
I'll give him the new suggestions. Be patient, Kyle. He'll soon be all
yours. It might go faster if you'd be willing to help out, though."
"Huh? How?"
"Part of his escort training is in massage and that always works best if
he's giving one when I feed him the suggestions. Sort of like a visual
aid. You see my point, don't you?"
It kinda made sense to me, and I wanted Chris under my control. So I
agreed, hiding my impatience. "I guess so."
"Why don't you take off your and out on the carpet there
so he can massage you. You probably need it, after the way you said he was
running you this afternoon."
"I dunno ..."
"Come on--it'll make you feel great. Think of it as the first of a lot
of perks to come."
"Well ... okay. Sure." So I pulled off my uniform and tee-shirt
and stretched out on Chris' nice, carpeting, on my stomach. Yeah, a
massage would feel good. I was in charge now, so I deserved some perks.
Chris straddled my hips, and his hands began to knead my shoulder
muscles. Felt pretty good, and I've always loved getting my back rubbed. I
sighed and felt myself settle down into the carpet.
"Feel good, Kyle?" Doc asked.
"Mmm-hmm," I said.
"That's it, Chris. It makes you feel good to make someone else feel
good." Doc started talking Chris through the process of massaging my back,
always telling him how much massaging each muscle group helped him relax
and sink deeper into hypnosis.
Every now and then, Doc would ask me if it felt good, if it was helping
me relax, and I'd always mumble something to let him know that, yeah, it
sure did.
"Have you noticed what he's doing, Kyle?" Doc asked as Chris worked down
my lats. "His hands are slowing down, aren't they? Like your breathing.
Relaxing. Slowing down. He's making deep, long strokes. Just like you're
taking deep, long breaths. So relaxing."
"I guess so--"
Doc cut me off. "Shhh ... Don't say anything. Just listen.
Concentrate on Chris' hands and how good they feel. Each stroke confirming
your power over him, each stroke allowing you to relax in the security of
being his superior."
Like I said, I was dog-tired, with a beer on my empty stomach, and Chris
was pretty good at what he was doing. Doc was yammering, sure, but I just
shut him out.
I guess I started to doze off. Chris rolled me over, which made me wake
back up a little. Chris started massaging my shoulders and pecs--nobody
had ever done that to me before, but it felt really nice. He was
straddling me, and his ass resting lightly over my crotch made me start
getting hard. Maybe that should have embarrassed the shit out of me, but
it didn't, exactly--I mean, I still had my pants on.
What was Doc talking about? Something about numbers. I'm pretty good
with numbers, and I could practically see them in my head when he said
them: 84, 83, 82 ... He was telling me how the countdown would lead to the
SEAL's final fall, his total loss of power. Giving it all away. He was
slowing down a little with each one, saying things between the count about
how hard it was getting to remember the number that came next. I tried to
raise my head up and look at him. Why was it so hard to move? Why were my
eyelids so heavy and hard to open?
I managed, "Y'r trying ... t' hyp'tize ... me ..."
"That's right, Kyle," Doc said. "You're already in a light state of
hypnosis, and it's so easy to just let go and relax and go even deeper.
Let's resume the count, okay? 81, feel yourself relaxing back ... 80,
eyelids so heavy, starting to shut again ... 79 ...so tired and enjoying
that feeling as you sink deeper ..."
I was exhausted. I could see the numbers in my head as he counted them
down, and my eyes closed, and my head sank back down on the carpet. Doc
kept counting. I kept getting hung up--losing track of what number came
next, like he said I would, and that was all right. It didn't bother me.
It was that dreamy feeling you get when you're dozing off, nearly
asleep. I felt Chris' hands move down my stomach. Doc kept counting,
giving me these easy instructions, giving some to Chris too, and I just let
it all happen. It felt like my mind was tilting back and sliding down,
down into some dark in the back of my head. Chris' hands worked at my
belt, then the crotch of my uniform pants, opening them. Opening my boxers
too. Something warm and moist and smooth on the head of my erection, when
the flaps of my boxers were folded away. An even better feeling washed
over me, and I sank the rest of the way down into sleep.
I sat up. At first I didn't remember where I was. Oh, yeah--Chris'
apartment. Doc was sitting over there still, reading a magazine. My pants
were still fastened--had I just dreamed that part?
"Well," Doc said, not even looking up as I reached for and struggled
into my tee-shirt. "Welcome back to the land of the living. Enjoy your
nap?"
"Hypnotizing me wasn't part of our deal," I snapped as I pulled on my
uniform too. "Where's Chris?"
"He went out on a call," Doc said, smiling. "Got to keep the business
running, you know. Don't worry--he never remembers much about these ...
business dealings."
When he said that, I thought about having all that power over Chris and
the team. The minute the word "Power" crossed my mind, I began to see
these numbers flash by--84, 83, 82 ...--and I started feeling a little
dizzy.
Doc looked up, smiled, and returned to his magazine. "Relax, Kyle," he
said as my eyes began to close and my world faded to darkness. "Sleep now,
and don't worry about a thing. You're going to get exactly what you've
wanted all along."
Entertainers
I was a little worried about Kyle. I mean, he was out like a light when
the Doc woke me up. Kyle lay sprawled out on the floor, his uniform pants
down around his ankles, boxers ripped to shreds around his waist. It
looked like he had gallons--there was all over his abs and pecs.
"Chris, you have an appointment with the team soon. Remember, the team
has volunteered to help out that kid's soccer team?" Doc reminded me.
"Oh, shit! I nearly forgot, Doc. I'll grab my stuff and get the team
out there." I don't know how I could have forgotten about the soccer team.
Seems the Doc had signed me and the rest of the team up to do his nephew's
victory party. They had won the Regionals and were having a party
downtown. Still, I was worried about Kyle. "Is he going to be okay?" I
asked the Doc, pointing at Kyle. Sure, he was a shit and all, but he was
still my teammate and that made him my concern.
Doc just smiled at me. "Don't worry, Chris. Kyle needs my help, and I
need some time alone with him to make sure we have a breakthrough. Just
like you did when I helped you back in college."
With that, I let go of all my concern. Doc would take care of
everything. I started thinking instead about the soccer team party. Doc
said that the kids, especially his nephew Danny, were SEAL-wannabes and
would be psyched if we showed up. Just to hang for a while and act like
good role models.
Josh, Cole, and Justin were all waiting for me downstairs. They were in
the Explorer all dressed up in SEAL gear, which I had put on before leaving
my apartment. When I left Doc was talking to Kyle as he slept on my floor.
I felt much better that the Doc was gonna take care of Kyle. He was just
what Kyle needed. Doc was so good with who had problems; he had
helped me when I needed it, and now he was going to help Kyle get better
too!
"Okay, guys, lets bolt. We don't want to be late and be bad role
models," I said, half-jokingly. If we were gonna do this big bro/li'l bro
routine, we had better show up on time at least. I reached into my pocket
and got out the cassette Doc had given me. He had taped the directions to
the party for us so I could drive and follow his instructions.
At first, the tape just got me on the highway, out of town. Doc said
that once I got on the highway, it would be about ten minutes. Nothing but
road ahead, so my mind wandered. I could hear Doc's voice on the tape. He
wasn't giving me directions to the house but talking about the party.
Pretty soon he mentioned my special word and I started to become very
focused on the road. As I drove by the road signs, Doc was talking about
performances, and how much I--we--loved them. He was telling me about my
"act" and how I could visualize it before I had to do it in person.
Driving was a perfect time to visualize such things, so monotonous and easy
to let the mind wander while the other part of the brain kept the car on
the road. I just drifted along in my thoughts about performing.
The tape was perfect. I found my way in no time. In fact, time seemed
to fly by while I drove. The must have been beat from the last
workout I had given them, 'cause they were all racked out when I pulled up
to the house.
The place was impressive--not too big, not too small. It had a long
driveway behind a gate, and then went up to the house ending in a circle
drive. The house was a pretty good size. If I had to guess, I would say
Doc's uncle was clearing a good chunk of money to afford this nice place.
It wasn't a mansion, but it was pretty damn nice.
The door opened almost before I rang the bell. At the door stood a kid
about 19 years old, brown hair, dark eyes, and from what I could tell
definitely an athlete. He had that lean, muscle bod most good soccer
players have. He started grinning the minute he saw us. It was a funny
grin, not the innocent smile of a kid, but more the same leer I used to see
on the SEAL instructors out at Coronado. Like we were pieces of meat or
something.
"Dudes! You finally made it. The have been here for about an
hour, bugging the shit out of me about when the entertainment would
arrive." He turning around and led us into the house. "Oh, I'm Danny, by
the way," he said, tossing his words as an afterthought over his shoulder.
Something seemed weird here. My senses were tingling; something just
didn't fit.
"Did he say, the 'entertainment'?" Josh asked from behind me.
"Ummm, yeh, he sure did." Justin said. "What did he mean by that,
Chris?"
I could tell that the had also sensed something strange.
"So," I said to Danny, "are you Doc's nephew?"
"I don't know anybody named 'Doc,'" he said without turning around.
We walked to the back of the house. There were a bunch of sitting around what looked like a game room. Not an ordinary game room,
though. It was loaded: pool table, wide screen TV, full-up stereo system,
every grown-up toy imaginable. The stereo was playing some dance music,
and some of the were showing off their moves to each other. All the
couches and chairs were sorta placed in a square, leaving a large open area
in the middle of them. What was that for?
"Guys, our SEAL friends have arrived. We can start as soon as everyone
is ready." Danny broadcast the news of our arrival like he was just
announcing dinner was served. It was strange.
Turning toward us, Danny smiled and asked if we liked the Backstreet
Boys.
I was surprised by the question, so I just shrugged. The Backstreet
Boys? What did that matter? "Well, um, sure," I stammered. "If you want to listen to that, it's cool with us."
Instantly, the Backstreet came on over the speakers--up-tempo and
loud, too-- and the Danny's friends started clapping to the beat. Danny
never took his eyes off us. He walked up to me and waived the rest of the
guys over to him. With one simple word--the word "Perform"--he explained
the deal with us.
The moment he said that, the whole world became crystal clear in my
head. It let me just take a mental step back and concentrate on the job I
was there to do. Like my body was on auto-pilot or something. Damn, I
just love this job. I love performing. I guess it's the exhibitionist in
me. Ever since I can remember, I've gotten off on showing off my body and
letting dudes see all of me, and these dudes were more than ready for a
show. They were hootin' and hollerin' as me and my started to strut
our stuff on their makeshift dance floor.
We have some real athletic moves. It was my idea to do the military
role thing. See, I knew dudes loved military guys, and four mil studs
stripping and dancing in front of horny dudes was exactly the scene Danny
was paying for. When you drop the kind of serious dough for a strip show
he was paying us, you expect to get your money's worth. I was going to
make sure Danny never regretted spending the money. Who knows--maybe he
and his friends would become regular customers.
It felt so right. The more we danced, the more I wanted to take my
clothes off. Like I said, I have an exhibitionist streak, and times like
this when the world gets all clear and focused like this, it just naturally
comes out. Josh seemed to be feeling the same way; he wasted no time
finding Danny in the crowd and dancing in his lap, began to pull off his
desert camo top. Under his top, he had a ripped brown tee-shirt which
showed off parts of his pecs, hard nipples, and of course that six-pack he
was so proud of. Danny seemed to be having a ball!
"Fuck, yah, SEAL-boy! Strip for me," Danny screamed out. "Show me that
hard body you gonna be giving up to me. This one is mine, bros!" Danny
declared. His friends all seemed to be cool with that 'cause they all just
laughed and applauded.
While Danny was announcing his choice, the rest of us moved in on some
of his friends and started to do lap dances for them as well. I went over
to the cute who had been eyeing me up since we started. His hands
flew to my crotch without a moment's hesitation. That was fine by me.
That was the second thing I loved, having a dude's hands all over me. I've
always known my place, and I love letting dudes have my body for their
enjoyment. It just feels so right, you know?
The boy's eyes bulged as I ripped my tee-shirt to shreds above
him. He took in my ripped pecs and my abs glistening with sweat. His hand
ran over my pecs and abs, and he let out this primal moan that would put
anyone in the mood for some hard fucking. This was starved for
man-sex. I could tell.
I reached down to my camo button fly and released my cock for him.
Blondy grabbed this cute, innocent-looking guy next to him who was also
staring at my cock and pushed his face into my eight inches of stiff meat.
The kid looked scared, but Blondy wasn't taking no for an answer. "Suck
it, Bobby," Blondy yelped with a giggle. "It's your first cock, but ya
gotta start sometime."
"Bobby" was getting into it and started to suck me off--doing pretty
good for a first-timer. Blondy moved in behind me and finished the job by
pulling my camo pants off my body. All I had to do was lift my legs one at
a time for him. To be honest, I was so into watching Bobby suck his first
cock, I almost didn't notice until I was totally naked and Blondy was
rubbin' his hard cock up my crack.
When I looked over my shoulder to see if Blondy wanted to shove his hot
tongue down my throat, I saw Justin and Cole were up on the pool table,
tossing the remains of their "uniforms" out into the crowd of half-naked,
horny guys. Justin reached down to his field bag, opened it up, and dumped
it on the pool table at his feet. Hundreds of condoms came flying out.
Every kind of condom known to was in there--jumbo, ribbed, lubricated,
multicolor--hell, there were even camouflage condoms! There were also
small plastic vials of lube. There was enough lube and latex there to
handle an orgy of three hundred!
Once Justin and Cole were naked, the couldn't keep their hands off
them. Pulling on their ankles and calves brought Justin and Cole down to
their hands and knees, face to face. They wasted no time taking advantage
of the situation by on each other's tongues. A couple of Danny's
friends climbed on the table and started to prep Justin's and Cole's
assholes with lube.
That was when my yanked my head further around so he could
look into my eyes as his tongue stretched down my throat. I was in heaven.
"You got a hot body, SEAL-boy," Blondy hissed in my ear. "I'm gonna
fuck your hard body. A like you must love getting his ass
fucked--don't you, SEAL-boy?"
My answer came out like it was preprogrammed--I didn't even think about
it. "Fuck, yes sir!" I shouted over the music as Bobby me off and
Blondy fingered my ass. "I love getting my ass plowed, Sir!" I was totally
lost in the moment. Everything felt so right, with Bobby my cock
and Blondy getting ready to fuck me. Hell, even the thought of Cole and
Justin getting gang-banged by the ten around the pool table seemed
right. Any time I had any hint of worry or concern for my boys, that word
would pop into my head: "Perform."
Just as Blondy was getting my ass ready, that kid Danny came over.
"Hold it," Danny said. "I told you that one is mine. You and Bobby can
suck him and stuff, but you don't get his hole--that's mine!" The look on
Blondy's face said it all. He was disappointed, but he wasn't going to
cross Danny. Danny was obviously the leader of this team.
Danny moved me over to the couch set up by the entertainment center. He
bent me down over the back of the couch so that I was facing the TV.
Something on the screen caught my eye. Some amateur porn movie?
No--somewhere there was a Danny bending me over the
couch. As I looked into the TV, I was looking almost directly into the
camera as well.
"That's right, SEAL-boy. Danny plans on having a keepsake of this fuck.
If you think I'm gonna pay this kind of money for a piece of ass, even four
of them, and not have anything to remember it by, you're crazy." Danny had
a bit of malice in his voice. He was not someone to fuck with.
As I looked into the TV, I started to fade out of reality for a bit.
When I came back Danny had his cock halfway up my fuck hole. Damn,
he fit so well inside me. Given a choice, I would never let him take it
out. He was perfect. Damn, if he didn't know how to use it too. He
fucked like a pro!
"That's it, SEAL-boy. Take my cock like a champ, you whore!" Danny
seemed to really enjoy my ass. He was pounding on me like no one else ever
had. Every time he slammed into me, he forced my cock deeper into Bobby's
mouth, making Bobby moan because of the way my cock jumped down his throat.
Still, I gotta give the credit--he never stopped me. Go,
Bobby, go!
After fucking me for about ten minutes, Danny wanted to see the rest of
the show. Without pulling out of me, he guided me over to the pool table
and bent me over it, driving my face in the middle of Justin and Cole's.
All three of us were getting fucked, and I never felt better! Danny's
cock pounding away inside my ass. Justin and Cole were all glassy-eyed
from getting fucked so many times. It was funny too; they never said a
word except for the occasional "Fuck me harder, Sir!" Sometimes I could
have sworn I heard Cole whispering over and over again: "perform, perform,
perform." It was intense.
I could tell Danny was getting close. He was moaning louder as he
assaulted my ass faster. Soon, he was pulling out of my ass, and I felt
his hot juice spray all over my ass and back. I never felt more complete
in my whole life. I loved this job--almost as much as I loved being a
SEAL.
"Now you get to fuck him, Bobby," Danny said. And sure enough, it
wasn't twenty seconds before I had a new cock inside me and that completed
feeling was returning to me again. Cole and Justin were trading out
fuck-partners as well. I could see the from their last fucks running
down their backs and ass-cheeks. Both of them had smiles on their faces.
Eventually, we were all in a mound of flesh on the pool table. Somebody
produced a camera--or maybe he had had it going all along--and
videotaped Cole, Justin, and me each other in a daisy chain, all
twenty rooting us on. Finally, Danny came over and gave us the
release we needed when he said, "You can now, SEAL-boys!" With just
those words, we all blew our into each others' mouths, letting only
small amounts dribble over our lips. That's when the soccer team gave us
this huge standing ovation.
"Thanks, guys," Danny said as he saw us to the door. "The whole team
really appreciated you coming over. Maybe you can come by again after we
win the Nationals." He gave me a wicked grin and a wink.
I shook my head clear as I came out of my daze. "Sure thing, Danny.
We'd be happy to help out any way we can. Good luck at the Nationals."
Damn, what a lame thing to say, but I'd been daydreaming when the kid was
talking to me, thinking that all that fucking I remembered couldn't have
really happened, could it?
With that, Danny smiled and closed the door.
I turned toward the guys. "Let's get out of here. I'm beat, and I
could sure use a nap." The only responses I got were tired moans of
agreement. When I got back home, the place was empty, and I crawled into
bed. Boy, was I tired! I guess talking with kids and playing their games
can take a lot out of you.
|
|
