The Hypnotist’s Daughter
by Albatross
(Standard Disclaimer: Not to be read by anyone under the age of
consent. All rights reserved by the
author. Not to be reposted on any other
site.)
I was feeling dizzy after dropping Melinda
off at home. I had my share of beers at
the post-game kegger, but normally I could hold my own. Her creepy Dad switched on the porchlight
just as I was gaining some yardage into Melinda’s pants. She was running interference, but I knew no was just another word for yes. Melinda ran in crying when her Dad opened the
door and ordered me into his study.
Dr. Barry pointed at an old leather couch,
then switched on some new age crap with ocean waves on the stereo. He started playing with one of those silver
ball pendulums on his desk and I kept my eyes fixated on them to avoid his
wrathful gaze. I was braced for the
standard “respect my daughter” spiel, but he was so monotonous I could not stay
focused. Crashing against the
waves. Deeper and deeper. It all blurred together. Playing for the other team. Disjointed images of my football
teammates. Spiraling to inifinity then
blackness.
Back in my car, I switched on my Metallica
CD to clear my head. But the sound was
grating. I needed something lighter, so
I scanned the local stations and found some show tunes. Not my thing, but those
fags seemed to be right about Judy Garland.
I found myself humming right along.
The beer was catching up with me so I pulled into a gas station to find
a bathroom. I thumbed through a few
men’s fitness magazines while the attendant got me the key. I found myself getting a raging
hard-on. Melinda really must have
blue-balled me.
The bathroom was filthy and some pervert
had actually drilled out a glory hole in the stall. With my staff at attention, I couldn’t resist sticking it through
the hole. I felt oddly compelled and
felt a flash of adrenaline driving me.
Anyone could have walked in at any time, but I couldn’t stop. I pulled it out and jacked off while
twisting on my nipples. Strange images
running through my mind. The
bodybuilders from the magazine. I
really must have been out of it.
I returned the key to the attendant and
grabbed some blow pops at the counter.
“Thanks, girlfriend,” I said. I
was shocked by what had come out of my mouth and turned in horror to see the
expression on his face. The young
attendant said, “Fuck off, faggot.” I’m
the one who usually did the fag bashing, but I found myself completely out of
control. I made a small curtsy, then
ran out the door. Something was
definitely wrong here. That asshole Dr.
Barry must have fucked with my mind.
I spun my car around to get back to Dr.
Barry’s house, but I could not remember where it was. The street was deleted from my memory. I sucked furiously on the blow pop in my mouth. Only the rhythmic in and out movement seemed
to calm me down some.
I woke up the next morning with a
jackhammer hangover. Still fuzzy on
what happened the night before. I
glanced into the bathroom mirror as I started the shower. I stopped dead. All the body hair below my neck had been shaved off. I was smooth as a Cub Scout. I must have passed out drunk and been
somebody’s idea of a practical joke.
Still, I couldn’t help noticing how hot I looked. Chiseled abs. Broad shoulders. A nice
curved butt. I ran my fingers across my
smooth chest and my cock jumped to attention.
This wasn’t right. The dream
from last night must have been real.
Dr. Barry made me into some kind of
fag. I grabbed a porn mag from under
my bed to test the waters. I pumped
away at my cock while looking at Miss October, but my friend fell limp. Suddenly, visions of hot guys filled my
mind. I was servicing their cocks on my
knees. I was in a daze of sucking and
fucking. I could feel my ass being
violated, but it felt so right.
None of my clothes felt right so I pulled
an old black t-shirt two sizes too small from the back of my closet. It clung to my chest like it was painted
on. In class, I couldn’t keep my eyes
off my history teacher’s ass. He asked
me a question about the Battle of Hastings and I just stared at him
dreamily. This was so wrong. I had to find a way to put a stop to
it. At football practice, I longed for
and dreaded hitting the showers. As I
suspected, I tentpoled at the sight of my teammates and could not control
myself from slowly lathering my body while I ogled the fresh meat. They saw my freshly shaved body and the
cries of faggot and homo were not far behind.
I ran from the showers in complete humiliation with my hard prick
leading the way.
After practice, one of my teammates, Will,
tracked me down in the equipment room.
I was sobbing like a girl and he put his hand on my shoulder and pulled
me toward him. Will was 6 feet tall
with curvy blond hair. I had never
noticed how piercing his blue eyes were before. I was disgusted with myself, but could not help from being
aroused. I dropped to my knees on
autopilot and unzipped his pants with my teeth. I drank in the musky smell of his manhood. My tongue twirled around the head of his
cock until its full 7 inches were engulfed.
He grabbed the back of my head and fucked me like a 5 dollar whore. I was so ashamed and tried to pull back
before he came, but he pulled me closer and I choked down his seed. It filled me and I knew that this was my new
purpose.
Dr. Barry had programmed me to be a gay
whore. Playing for the other team to
keep me away from all women. Will
flipped me over and pulled off my pants.
He plunged into my virgin hole and I felt the pain and pleasure of my
new existence. “No, no. Stop it, I cried” But we both knew that no was just another word for yes.