Dude Ranch Summer

By Hyptrance
published March 11, 2019
10783 words

A college psychology major uses his hypnotic skills to improve his summer situation on his father’s dude ranch

Disclaimer: All characters are 18 or older, whether stated explicitly or not; you must be as well, in order to have permission to read this. This is fiction, so no resemblance to real people is intended or may be inferred. It deals with the topics of gay sexual activity and mind-control. If these are forbidden in your community, or distasteful to you, then please go elsewhere. You may download this as you wish for your personal enjoyment, provided the story is not disseminated to any minors (as defined by your community), but you may not re-post it anywhere without the author’s permission. Finally, please consider writing similar stories of your own. I like to read as well as write.

Dude Ranch Summer by Hyptrance

I was trying really hard not to let my bad attitude show. Facing yet another summer of shepherding lovey-dovey newlyweds and suburban families with screaming brats, few of whom knew one end of a horse from the other, was close to my vision of hell – well, maybe purgatory. But if you run a dude ranch, you have to deal. Actually, it’s my dad’s ranch. I’m just sentenced to work here every summer to earn Dad’s support for my college tuition, but the principle is the same: keep smiling and try not to put my fist though a wall or somebody’s face. Having done it every summer since I was a senior in high school (four years now) was making the routine and my coping mechanisms wear thinner than a spider-web.

At least this summer one thing was a little better (or worse depending on when you asked me): because I’ve been paying this particular set of dues for so many years now, I’m the head of staff. The bad news is that the buck stops at me if anything is going wrong. The good news is that I don’t have to put up with shit from anyone except Dad, and I get to do the hiring; oh, not the real crew who handle the working part of the ranch (they’re all older guys, genuine cattlemen with miles of experience, who basically ignore the dude aspects of the operation pretty much altogether), but all of the glorified baby-sitters like myself. As a result, the other college-boy pseudo-cowboys I recruited were all, by no coincidence, really hot! (Yup, even though I look like a junior version of the Marlboro Man, I’m 100% gay, and I wanted plenty of male eye-candy around the spread if I was going to be trapped here all summer!)

I was also in charge of the bunkhouse sleeping assignments, so I’d made sure that the very hottest of the hot were all together in the same cabin I would be sharing, and I had a special agenda for them. You see, my college major is psychology, and all last year (ever since we had the unit in Abnormal Psych 301 where we had to learn how to induce hypnotic states) I have been perfecting my skills in disguised and speed inductions (several of the straight guys on my dorm floor have let me have my way with them and don’t even know it!). During the week we would be there to prep the facilities before the onslaught of the paying public, I planned to gain control of the whole bunch of them. I promised myself that lights-out in the bunkhouse was definitely going to be more fun this year!

“Oh Lord, don’t do this to me, Dad! Not Tanner!!! I thought he was supposed to be interning at that computer company all summer before he starts college!” My careful plans were in danger of being shot to hell. Tanner is Tannhauser (don’t ask me what the hell his folks were thinking when they came up with that one) Brecht, the son of our indispensable ranch foreman, and an A-One brat with attitude for days. He is also an incurable snoop and tattletale. We’d put up with him last summer at almost the cost of my sanity. And Dad wanted him in my cabin?! In place of one of my chosen cowboys?!!

“Cole, we’re stuck with him for another summer because the internship fell through. I know you two don’t get along. Hell, nobody gets along with him except his parents! And that’s why he has to be in your cabin: it’s a simple matter of damage control. You’re his boss, and you’re also the only person I can trust to be the buffer zone between him and the rest of the staff (the customers too, for that matter). I’m afraid that has to be the end of this discussion.” Dad put his hand on my shoulder and looked me straight in the eye. “I’m sorry, Son, but doing things you’d rather not when they need doing is just part of being grown-up.” He gave me a pat and walked out of the room.

Well, damn! At least Tanner makes the cut as far as good looks go. And, since his is a late birthday, he’d already turned eighteen before graduating high school this spring, and so he was legal. If he weren’t so damned annoying, he might already have made my list. But this certainly changed my time-line and not in a good way. I had to get to Tanner fast and put him under my control before any of my chosen guys arrived, or I’d never have a safe opportunity to snag any of them. And getting to Tanner was not likely to be easy. There was no pretext on earth that would convince him to volunteer as a hypnotic subject. Fortunately, I did have this one day to work at it, since he lives on the ranch already, while the other staffers wouldn’t start arriving until tomorrow morning, and, although it’s impossible to hypnotize someone against his will, it is not at all impossible to hypnotize someone (especially someone both naïve and arrogant like Tanner) without his realizing that was what was happening, or by using a shock technique that would put him in trance before he could react to resist it. And, once a guy is hypnotized, the whole concept of “against-his-will” becomes a lot hazier.

After a brief search, I found Tanner already moving his stuff into the cabin. Well, at least we’d be alone in here; this might prove easier than I had expected. Typically, he’d already copped the best bunk location (which I reserve for myself), but I restrained my annoyance. “Hey, Tanner,” I said, “Looks like we’re stuck with each other again this summer. I want us to start off on a better footing than last year. If you agree to try to keep off my bad side, I’ll do my level best to keep off yours.”

Tanner gave me a cocky smile. Obviously he thought my overture indicated weakness. “Sure, Cole.” Then, after a pause that made it too late to sound either natural or polite, he added, “Boss.”

“Shake on it?” Tanner walked over to take my offered hand, but, as he reached for it, I grabbed his wrist with my left hand and brought it up in front of his face. “Let your eyes focus on your palm…” Every hypnotist knows how an interrupted-handshake induction works. It’s fast and, even for someone who would recognize it, nearly impossible to escape. Tanner stood as unresistingly as a waxwork while I brought his cataleptic hand to touch his forehead and then eased his limp and helplessly sleeping form to floor. After some rapid-fire deepening patter and a couple of tests, I was amazed and delighted at how deeply hypnotized my young nemesis had become. He was a natural somnambulist and would be no more trouble from here on out.

“Stand up, Tanner, but remain completely relaxed and in my control,” I commanded. “I’m going to count to three and you will wake back up. You won’t remember that you have been hypnotized or have any awareness of the time that has passed while you were in trance. Whenever you hear me (and only me) say ‘Bedtime, Buckaroo’ you will instantly go back into deep hypnosis, even deeper than your are now. It will be impossible to keep your eyes from closing, and your mind from giving up all control to me. Nod if you understand.” Tanner’s head bobbed obediently. “Oh… one more thing. You’re going to want to do what I tell you on the job, even when you aren’t in trance. It’ll just seem right and natural to you to take my orders. One… two… and three.” Tanner’s eyes flicked open as I “completed” the interrupted handshake. He went back to stowing his gear as though nothing had happened.

“Tanner, that’s the wrong bunk. Yours is over there.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry, Boss.” That time it sounded sincere. Tanner began to transfer things to the indicated bunk area and I began to unpack my own gear.

Needless to say, once we were alone in the bunkhouse after evening chores I didn’t waste a minute before I pronounced his trance-cue, sending him back under deep hypnosis. Tanner was instantly reduced to blank-faced, mind-controlled immobility, and he looked very appealing in the firelight as he stood there helpless and open. I worked for about a half-hour just deepening and refining his trance until he responded as automatically and easily as though he’d never been willful in his life. Then I ordered him to strip. Like the sleepwalker he had become, Tanner slowly took off his clothes: shirt (no undershirt), boots and socks, tight western jeans, and finally his briefs (rather sporty black ones). His naked body was gorgeous. Well, it’s a given that ranch life will do that that – plenty of hard physical exercise and a lot of horseback riding keeps you well-toned, with an ass like granite, and (unless you’re too fond of beer) lean. He had a nice tan, and not much body hair. And as for Tanner’s cock… well, let’s just say our little boy is “all growed up” down there!

It had been a couple of weeks since the end of the term had plunked me back down here in the boonies away from all my sex buddies (witting or unwitting), so I can’t pretend I wasn’t ready for some action. I moved in on my motionless victim and with hands and mouth began to explore his virtues. There were many, now that they were no longer masked by clothes or a crappy attitude. His fixed, vacantly staring eyes were a delicious dark violet-brown, like the petals of an exotic tropical flower; his neat brown hair was soft and clean; his smooth, satiny skin over hard, sculpted muscle was a tactile delight for tongue and hands, and the aforementioned cock was a plump, delicious bounty as I licked and sucked it to its fully erect seven inches. But Tanner’s best features are his lips: pink, perfectly shaped, plump (but not too plump to be 100% masculine), and succulent. I can’t look at them without immediately thinking of kissing (or fucking) them for days. I kept interrupting my exploration of his body to return for more mouth-to-mouth until I finally gave up the pretense.

“Tanner, kneel down,” I ordered. He gracefully sank to his knees. Now his face was directly opposite my basket, although his blank, unfocused gaze never altered, even as I undid my jeans and whipped out my hard dick. “You will suck my cock, Tanner, and you will enjoy it, because everything you do to me, you will feel happening to your own cock at the same time. You’ll orgasm when I do.” Without further delay I introduced Little Cole to those beautiful lips and pressed in. Tanner admitted me as easily and unresistingly as though he had been accustomed to doing it all his life, and I was engulfed in a warm, moist tunnel of suction and wickedly massaging tongue. For a straight boy he was damned good at it! I began to fuck his mouth, just as I’d been wanting to (gently, of course – I didn’t want to trigger his gag reflex and risk snapping him out of trance). As I began to heat up and moan with the pleasure, so did Tanner. Well, he was well and truly hypnotized, and obeying my suggestion to share whatever he imagined as my sensations. I held out as long as I could (it was too good to rush), but eventually his increasingly passionate blow-job brought me over the edge. With a gasp, I pulled out and shot my load all over that amazing mouth. At virtually the same time, just as he’d been ordered to do, Tanner shot his own load onto his thighs. He then once again froze into stasis, patiently awaiting my next suggestions, oblivious of my cum dripping down his chin and onto his chest.

Even though I was loopy with post-orgasmic high, I didn’t waste the opportunity to deepen his trance and tie the physical pleasure of his orgasm to the hypnosis, further cementing his obedience. I also gave him suggestions for liking the taste and smell of cum, not yet strong enough for a fetish, but tending that direction. I would still make sure his conscious mind had no idea of what was going on, but more and more Tanner would find himself intrigued by the idea of being hypnotized (and also, although by no means immediately, by the idea of experimenting with guy-sex).

Having made sure all of that suggestive web was firmly anchored, I cleaned us both off, got us both dressed again, and woke Tanner up, after first reiterating that he’d would never remember what went on while he was under hypnosis or even that he had been under it. When he regained animation, his nostrils flared (well, I’m sure there was still some cum-scent right under his nose), but since the post-hypnotics all held, he wasn’t able to wonder why he smelled it, and anyway, after a couple more experimental sniffs, he decided that he liked the smell, so his curiosity ceased to trouble him. We shot the shit a little longer and then bedded down for the night.

The following day the rest of the hired hands began arriving. So all through the morning and most of the afternoon I was busier than the proverbial one-armed paper-hanger getting them all sorted out, paperwork completed and filed, duty-rosters handed out and explained, cabins and bunks assigned. I had set Tanner to finding and fitting western gear for those who didn’t already have their own, so they’d look the part for the tourists. Thanks to my post-hypnotic coercion, he did a good job. High Five, me!

Of course, during the melee I did meet the other four staffers I’d picked for my own cabin (and potential pleasure), but it wasn’t until that evening after dinner that any of us really got the chance to talk. Feeling a little like a camp counsellor at a sleep-away, but knowing it was the obvious and necessary thing to do, I said, “Let’s start off by introducing ourselves and telling a little bit about who we are. I’m Cole DeVries, as you probably all remember. It’s my dad’s ranch and I’ve lived here all my life until I went away to college. I’ve been spending my summers on the staff as a dude-wrangler” (I made a deprecating face at the cutesy, yet essentially accurate, term) “ever since I was old enough to avoid child labor laws, and, as a punishment for my sins, I’m your boss. Anything goes wrong, you come to me; anyone makes trouble, you come to me; if you make trouble, trust me, I’ll come to you.” I then pointed to Tanner and he introduced himself. Following the circle I nodded to the next guy (a serious-looking young man with coal-black hair, deep blue eyes, a fit hard body, and, of course, a really handsome face) to proceed.

“Hi. My name’s Gareth Llewellyn. This is my first time working on a dude ranch, but I grew up around horses and I’ve been riding since I was six years old.”

I had winced as soon as he said his name; what is it with parents and these wild-assed monikers!? “Well, I’m sure Gareth is a fine old name with plenty of history to back it up, but a dude ranch is in the business of selling” I crooked my fingers into air-quotes, “the ‘Romance of the Old West’, and that name won’t cut it. We need to find you a cowboy nickname! Where are you from?”

Gareth had looked disconcerted when I began, but now he was grinning. “Just outside of Flagstaff, Arizona.”

“Perfect! Gareth, from now on you answer to ‘Arizona’ when you’re around the paying customers.” We’d had a similar problem last year: a black guy, terrific cowboy, but his parents had saddled him with LaDarrell. Fortunately, he was from Cody, Wyoming, so we just called him Cody.

I turned to the next guy, a long drink of water with light-brown hair, hazel eyes, and real grace of carriage. He had come with his own expensive black Stetson which he wore tipped forward to shade his face even though we were indoors and it didn’t matter. In a word, he exuded “cool”, probably deliberately.

“Gentlemen, I’m Jake Shoemaker”. His voice was soft, with a slight Texas drawl. “I’ve worked summers on a lot of ranches. I’m a junior at A&M, an ag major, and one of these days I aim to have a ranch of my own.” Then, a beat later, he added, “Probably not a dude ranch.” His voice had remained light and pleasant, but I could still feel the condescension. Even though I was pretty much in complete agreement with him on the score of dude ranches, I knew I’d have to keep an eye on him to prevent the attitude from spreading.

“Welcome, Jake. Next.”

The next cowboy up was patently the youngest of the bunch (expect, of course, for Tanner) and he was exuding freshman eager-to-please vibes so strong they were almost tangible, like radiant heat. He had a handsome, open face with a super-white grin nothing could kill, dark hair, and a near-perfect body (going just by looks, he could have been a model – fashion, fitness, or nude, an Olympic diver, or even a Hollywood action star). He had come outfitted with enough flashy western shirts to costume a dance troupe. After laid-back, super-cool Jake, his exuberance was like the wake-up chord in the “Surprise” symphony.

“Hi! I’m Tommy Corcoran! I’m from Bozeman, and I just finished my first year at MSU!” Everything he said sounded as though it ended with an exclamation point. “I used to spend summers at a dude ranch near Yellowstone when I was a kid and I’ve always wanted to work on one! And this is my first time ever out of state!” He beamed at everyone, his hot young body almost vibrating with barely-suppressed energy.

I almost laughed. “Well, Tom,” I looked at him pointedly and he nodded acquiescence (good - he was quick on the uptake), “I hope the job lives up to your expectations. I do recommend that you try to cultivate your cowboy ‘cool’ just a little bit more. If you treat the livestock to an explosion of high spirits like you just did us, you’ll stampede the cattle.” The rest of the guys were chuckling good-naturedly. I grinned at him to show it wasn’t a real reprimand and that I wasn’t annoyed. His toothpaste-ad smile, which had dimmed slightly (from 200 watts to maybe 150), immediately burst back into full radiance. He was so damned cute I had to squash an urge to ruffle his hair like you’d do with your kid brother.

If Tom was all sunshine and wiggly puppies, then the last of our bunkhouse crew was a lazy panther in the moonlight, as laid-back as Jake, but with a quiet, calm centeredness that was all strength, not just attitude masquerading. His blue eyes, sandy hair, and very tan pretty-boy face with a light dusting of freckles, marked him as no older (and likely, younger) than I, but he felt as seasoned as Dad or Mr. Brecht – surely he’d been around the block more than a few times. He didn’t wait for me to invite him to speak.

“Well, I guess that leaves me. Jesse MacBride, and pleased to make your acquaintance. Not much to tell. I grew up on my folks’ ranch in Colorado, kinda like you, Cole. I tried myself on the rodeo circuit as soon as I was legal. Wasn’t bad, but there’s too good a chance of breakin’ somethin’ that won’t mend proper, and I do like my fingers.” He nodded towards his bunk which had a guitar case lying on it. “Now, I just follow the seasons, working stock or,” he winked at me, “wrangling dudes, saving up to go back to school. I guess you college-fellas can all say you’ve just met your first genuine [he pronounced it with the humorous long ‘i’] saddle-tramp.” He grinned infectiously.

Jake’s expression was a bit skeptical, but Arizona and even hard-case Tanner looked a little impressed, while Tom was visibly star-struck (he had that stunned look people get when they realize that guy they thought looked like some movie-star actually is). I decided I really liked Jesse. I hoped he’d prove hypnotizable. Oh well, time would tell. The guys were all asking Jesse questions about the rodeo and the ice was effectively broken; by the time we turned in we were all on the way to becoming friends. And I’d also, under cover of the conversation indulged in a little subtle NLP, creating an automatic agreement response any time I touched my chin. It appeared to have been successfully anchored in all of them.

The following morning (and basically the rest of the week until the guests started arriving) my duties were mainly overseeing everyone else’s, which gave me a good deal of flexibility about with whom, when, and for how long I spent my time. Under other circumstances, I would have had to put a great deal of that time into managing Tanner, but, because of his extreme susceptibility to hypnosis, that one post-hypnotic suggestion had turned him into the perfect little worker bee. I’d have to reinforce it at some point fairly soon, but for now I could leave him on his own. I set out to see which of my cabin-mates might be in a situation that I could manipulate for trance induction.

I wasn’t that worried about bagging Tom. I was pretty sure that once I let it drop that I knew how to hypnotize he’d be first in line to want a demonstration. And anyway, both he and Jesse were on stable duty, checking, sorting, and, if necessary, repairing all the tack, with two other guys. There was no point in looking in on them, since neither would be alone; I’d have to try for them at some later time. That left Arizona or Jake, and I decided Jake was the better bet for now. Our lake (well, pond, really), where he would be inspecting the little dock for soundness, and clearing away encroaching plant-life from the portion of the shoreline that served as our ‘beach’, is fenced off from the stock and a ways away from any of the buildings, so I could be reasonably sure we wouldn’t be interrupted by man or beast.

Jake was just finishing loading cropped weeds into the back of the pick-up when I arrived. He nodded, “Hey, Cole.”

“Jake.” I nodded back. “Everything in good shape?”

“Dock’s fine. I was just finishing up here.”

“Great! You’re ahead of schedule.” I rubbed my chin, “You even have time for a little nap before lunch.” He wouldn’t have been considering that, but, thanks to the NLP anchor, he was considering it now. “This is one of the most peaceful places on the whole ranch. I find I automatically begin to relax, Jake, whenever I come out here… to breathe easily, Jake… deeply…” I rubbed my chin again. Jake’s body language showed that he was heading in the direction I hoped. His shoulders had slumped just a little, and his eyes looked sleepy. “It soon becomes impossible to resist giving in to it, Jake… you can feel how that might be, can’t you, Jake? How easy it would be to close your eyes? To let your mind drift into dreaming? How much you, Jake, long for sleep?”

“Uh-huh…” I don’t think Jake was even aware that he’d spoken. The handsome young cowboy was gazing dully at nothing in particular.

I quietly stepped in closer to him, my voice falling into an intimate purr. “And it’s going to happen, Jake… by the time I count three you’re going to have to let go and sleep… deep, deep sleep… one… two… three… close your eyes and sleep, Jake… deeper and deeper… just like that!” I caught him as his body went limp, easing him gently to the ground, all the while weaving my hypnotic web tighter and tighter around his helpless mind. It wasn’t as quick as it had been with Tanner the somnambulist, but I eventually had Jake exactly where I wanted him, completely under my control. I programmed him with the “Bedtime, Buckaroo” re-induction cue I’d already given Tanner, and then, to cement his trance response with the pleasure principle, I undid his fly, hauled out his cock and began to jerk him off, all the while both intensifying his orgasmic experience and tying it to ever-increasing trance depth. His hard cock (not unusually large, but very handsome) felt great in my hand as I stroked it, and by the time I’d brought him to a massive climax, he was as deeply and completely in my power as Tanner had ever been. I tidied Jake up and left him napping, propped up against a decorative wagon-wheel in the shade of a convenient bush, with instructions to wake up in about 20 minutes with no recollection of anything that had taken place in our encounter, or even that I had ever come by. His tall form, peacefully stretched out, allowed his tight western jeans to display his beautifully shaped legs and ass most temptingly. Yumm!

At lunch, Jake behaved normally, so I knew that my instructions taken proper hold. Two down and three to go. I looked around the dining area, reminding myself of the several duty rosters to determine who should be next. I noted that Tom was sitting next to Jesse, regarding him with what appeared to be nothing short of hero worship. Jesse, for his part wore an amused and tolerant expression, and answered Tom’s many questions and comments good-naturedly. Obviously prying Tom away from his new best friend was going to take some doing. I could think of a few scenarios in which this development could actually be useful, but not this afternoon, so that left Arizona.

I had to check in on a few of the other non-targeted employees just to make sure their assignments were being properly covered, so it wasn’t until about 3 that afternoon that I caught up with Arizona. He was still at work cleaning and prepping the barn. It isn’t a functioning barn, and never was. It’s our party space built specifically for “barn” dances and the occasional wedding booking. It doesn’t get used all that often, so there’s always the need for clearing away the inevitable spider webs, sweeping, dusting, and usually, applying appropriate decorations. It was an all-day assignment, and even though he’d had one of the cowgirls as his co-worker all morning, she’d had to leave to help prepare lunch (she’s one of the sous-chefs), and he was by himself for the afternoon. When I came by, the place was spic-and-span, and he was hanging paper streamers for the opening night dance. His expression was a little strained.

“Afternoon, Arizona. Everything under control?”

“I guess so. I have to ask. Do you run cattle on this spread… or spiders? I’ve never seen so many as were living in here, and a couple of ‘em were big enough to saddle and ride!” He shuddered involuntarily. “If Cassie hadn’t been here to shame me, I think I would have screamed like a little girl.”

I snickered. “Oh, come on, Arizona. They’re just harmless little house spiders. We don’t have any of the dangerous types around here.”

“Oh, I know that. I just really hate spiders! I’m gonna feel like something’s crawling on me for the rest of the day.” He shuddered again.

Seeing a tailor-made opening I said, “I might be able to help you with that. It didn’t come up in conversation last night, but my major at school is psychology, and more specifically, I’m really good at hypnotism. I’ll bet I can desensitize your spider phobia in no time if you’ll give me a shot.” I rubbed my chin and he nodded, as instantly as a knee-jerk.

“Go for it. Otherwise I know I’m gonna be up at least five times tonight checking my bedding. What do you need me to do?”

“I want you to stand up straight, feet together, and look at my left eye… only the left one… focus on it completely… good… if your gaze starts to stray bring to back to my eye… always back to my eye… until my eye is the only thing you see… Deep breaths in… and out… in… and out… very good… and feel your body begin to relax completely…” Arizona’s face was already beginning to lose animation, his pretty eyes glazing as they stared into mine, and as I reached forward and lifted his arm, there was no resistance. He was proving to be highly hypnotizable.

I continued in that vein while simultaneously rocking his arm back and forth, until, sensing the right moment, I pulled it forward sharply, commanding, “Sleep!” Arizona collapsed into my arms, his head resting helplessly on my shoulder as I continued to talk him deeper and deeper into trance. His firm, warm body felt amazing snuggled in my embrace; just the right size!

I did play fair; the first order of business was his spider issue, but he was so completely open to my suggestions (I think he’d gone under even deeper than Tanner had) that it was quick and easy to diffuse his phobia and replace it with simple respect for the usefulness of the spider tribe. His skin would no longer crawl at the thought of spiders, but I wasn’t about to make them his best friends either; in a world where widows, recluses, and funnel-webs exist, even if we don’t have them here, a little caution is only sensible.

Then I moved on to my agenda. I programmed him with the same trance cue I’d given Tanner and Jake and then had him come to attention. He stood as stiffly as a waxwork, his amazing blue eyes focused intently straight ahead in a frozen stare, his face empty of expression. God, he’s a handsome guy! “Arizona,” I said, “You’re a deeply hypnotized cowboy under my complete control. Repeat that.”

“I’m a deeply hypnotized cowboy under your complete control.” His voice was soft and dull, as though he were talking in his sleep (which, in a sense, he was).

“You can never question anything I tell you; you are certain that anything I say is true. You will do whatever I say, think only what I tell you to.” I allowed my hands to explore his motionless body, squeezing his perky resilient little butt, fondling his muscular arms, and caressing his hard chest and stomach. When I gently massaged his basket, even though he wasn’t even partially erect and I was feeling him through denim, it was obvious to me that Arizona was packing some very respectable meat.

“Arizona, I’m going to count to three and you will wake up. Although you will obey every order I’ve given you, you will have no conscious memory of anything that has happened since I first began to hypnotize you. You’ll only know that you did indeed become hypnotized. You will feel absolutely great, almost sexy, and be convinced that being hypnotized was wonderful, possibly the best feeling you’ve ever experienced. You will want me to hypnotize you again and again, any time I feel like it. You love being hypnotized. Repeat that.”

“I love being hypnotized.” His blank face relaxed into a lazy, goofy smile, and I could see a subtle increase to the lump in his basket.

“One… two… three… Wide awake.”

Arizona blinked, and then his smile blazed into a full-blown grin. “That was amazing!” he exclaimed. “I feel incredible!! God, I hope you’ll be willing to do that again sometime, Cole… real soon?”

“Oh, I imagine that could be arranged,” I smiled back at him. “What do you remember?”

Arizona looked thoughtful. “I remember you telling me to focus on your left eye…” He thought some more. “Then nothing until I heard you say ‘Wide awake’.”

“You are a very good subject for hypnosis. You may be the best I ever worked with. I can pretty much guarantee that spiders won’t bother you anymore.”

“Spiders? Why would spiders bother me?” Arizona looked a bit startled. “Wait… that’s right, that’s why you hypnotized me! Damn, you’re good! I didn’t even remember I was ever freaked out by them in the first place!” He sounded very impressed.

I left him to finish his job and went about the remainder of my work round.

Returning to the cabin to wash up before supper, I was surprised to hear music. Someone was singing “The Streets of Laredo” to soft guitar accompaniment. I assumed it had to be Jesse. I paused outside to listen, not wanting to interrupt him mid-song. He was really quite good. The guitar was fluent and sure, and his voice, right on pitch, was a true and mellow folk-singer tenor, free of that whiny quality so common in country-western. When he came to the song’s melancholy close and his guitar fell silent, I opened the door and went in. Jesse was sitting on his bunk, guitar in hand, and (I licked my chops) shirtless (well, it was a hot afternoon). Somewhat to my surprise, Tom was nowhere in evidence; apparently Jesse had managed to cut the apron strings.

“You sounded great, Jesse. I had no idea. You could be earning some serious tips if you’d sing for the guests at dinner sometimes or at one of the campfires.”

Jesse looked (to my surprise, considering my initial impression of him) uncomfortable. “I… I didn’t know anyone was listenin’. I’ve never been able to play for people much. I get real self-conscious if I know someone’s listenin’.” He smiled apologetically and put his guitar back in its case.

Hmmm. There wasn’t time to do something right now; the others could be showing up almost any minute, but Jesse had just given me the same kind of opening that Arizona had. Treating stage-fright for musicians, actors, and public speakers is a staple of the hypnotherapist’s livelihood. I said, “I may have something for you on that score. Let me think about it a little.” I didn’t say more. I decided my current shirt wasn’t too pitted-out for dinner-wear, and just washed my face and hands at the sink. Jesse pulled on a shirt, and we walked to the dining room together.

That night after dinner, when we were all back in the cabin (one of the last few times we wouldn’t have after-dinner duties such as the above-mentioned campfires), I put my plan in motion. “Jesse", I said, “I’ve been thinking about what you told me this afternoon. It’s a real shame you aren’t comfortable singing for folks. You are seriously good! If you got over your stage-fright, you might even be able to quit cowboying altogether and make your living as an entertainer. But I have an idea. I’m a psychology major at State, and I have learned a lot about using hypnotism to help conquer bad habits and phobias. I’ll bet I could help you with yours, if you’ll trust me to do it.”

Before Jesse could answer Arizona interrupted eagerly, “He’s terrific! He did me this afternoon. I was getting all twitchy about the gazillion spiders in that old barn I was cleaning and he put me under to help me get over it. Now I can’t even remember why they were bothering me. And being hypnotized feels amazing! It’s absolute the best! You have to let him try, Jesse. You’re gonna love it!”

Tom was nodding excitedly too. “We had a hypnotist at my safe-grad party last year! It was way cool! I was one of the volunteer subjects and he had me stretched out like a plank between two chair backs as comfortable as if I was lying on a mattress! You have to let him try, Jesse! Please? And let us watch?”

So Tom had already been hypnotized successfully once? I had already been thinking that Tom, who surely would be totally focused on anything to do with his hero, might be a good candidate for inadvertent proxy hypnotism during Jesse’s induction. This clinched it. All three of us looked expectantly at Jesse.

“I dunno… I never thought there was much to that kind of mumbo-jumbo. In the one show I saw on TV seemed pretty fake, and I just felt embarrassed for the people makin’ fools of themselves.” Both Tanner and Jake muttered agreement. But Jesse hadn’t actually sounded as though he were saying a definite ‘no’; more like he just needed further convincing.

“Those shows are for entertainment and designed to be silly. But hypnosis itself isn’t silly. It’s a powerful psychological tool and has been part of the psychotherapist’s arsenal of effective treatment for decades. More to the point, it’s the treatment of choice for stage-fright. Besides, what do you have to lose?”

Jesse looked thoughtful. “Nothin’, I guess.” He grinned, “Ok, go for it… and you guys are all very welcome to watch. You can see to it that he doesn’t make me cluck a like a chicken.”

Everybody laughed and Arizona and Tom high-fived each other. I gave them all a mock-affronted glare and said loftily, “I will not be making him cluck like a chicken!”

When the mirth died down, Jesse asked, “So… what do I have to do?”

I had already decided to use a standard (and repetitive) progressive relaxation approach, since it would work as well as any other on Jesse, but had by far the greatest potential for capturing Tom (and maybe some of the other recent hypnotizees) as collateral. “I recommend you sit in this chair; it’ll give you back-support when you start to relax. Sit with your feet flat on the floor and your hands palms-up in your lap. And close your eyes.” Jesse moved from his bunk to the chair I’d indicated and sat as requested.

As I began my spiel, Arizona and Tom were watching him like hawks, their eyes alight with anticipation, but even Tanner and Jake had abandoned their skepticism enough to join the audience. “I want you to get comfortable, Jesse. First, concentrate on your breathing. I want you to make it as regular and even as you can… don’t try to hurry it or hold it… just easy, deep breaths that fill you up and empty you out… excellent, just like that… in… and out… in… and out…” From the corner of my eye I could see that Tom’s breathing-rate had also slowed and begun to match Jesse’s. From here on in I would be careful not to use Jesse’s name in the induction. “Just keep breathing that way… in… and out… in… and out… and feel how those easy, comfortable breaths are letting your whole body relax… it’s the kind of breathing you do naturally and easily and unconsciously as you are about to fall asleep… as you ready yourself to drift off into a deep, relaxing sleep. You can feel all of your muscles start to respond… feel the muscles in your feet losing all tension… send your awareness to notice how your toes are growing limp… the muscles in the arch of your feet, the muscles in your heels and ankles, all growing so relaxed… so heavy… so peaceful… Follow that relaxation up into the muscles of your legs… Your calves, your thighs… growing so loose and heavy… so comfortable you can’t imagine moving them… they’re too relaxed… too limp… too heavy… It’s as though your whole body is melting like ice cream in the sun… just melting… and it feels so-o-o good… so very good that you don’t want it to stop… you just want to keep on relaxing more and more and more… letting the relaxation and my voice be everything in your world… nothing else… only relaxation… only my voice… nothing else…” I continued inexorably, repetitiously in this vein while taking stock of the results so far.

Jesse’s posture had sagged considerably, and his eyes under closed eyelids were already showing signs of the little, spasmodic movements that indicate the onset of deep trance. To my delight, Tom had also closed his eyes and was slumped as though boneless, so my plan was working well. And Arizona, although he had been standing rather than seated, was now leaning against the wall behind him, his head had fallen forward to rest on his chest in the classic hypno-posture, and his eyes too had fallen shut. Jake and Tanner weren’t showing signs of trance yet, but neither were they appearing to lose attention to the process, so there was still time. (And if they didn’t fall under this time, I still had the trance-cue I’d already programmed into them, so the outcome was really in no doubt.)

I continued to talk sleep, my voice low and intimate as I finished relaxing their bodies and started to relax their minds and wills. Finally, after many, many deepening exercises (I had “walked” them down at least three dozen imaginary stair-steps and through doorway after doorway to rooms of deeper entrancement), I was able to command, “When I snap my fingers you will feel your right hand and arm grow as light as air… as light as a helium-filled balloon… and you are so relaxed and so hypnotized that you have no control over them… They will simply float right up to your face… easily… automatically… and when your hand touches your face it will stick there and you will immediately go 1,000 times deeper into to hypnotic trance than you are right now. Nod if you understand.” Jesse, Tom, and Arizona nodded obediently. And so did Tanner and Jake! Even though they hadn’t shut their eyes yet, my remaining two cowboy skeptics had evidently succumbed in spite of themselves. Perfect! I snapped my fingers. Smoothly and effortlessly Jesse’s hand rose to his face and he sagged even more helplessly. Tom’s fingers brushed the tip of his nose and he fell over backwards onto his bunk, limp as the proverbial mackerel. When Arizona’s hand floated to his brow his legs buckled and he slid slowly down the wall to sit on the floor. Tanner, since his glazed eyes were still open, looked like a cadet executing a slow-motion salute, but eventually his hand touched his brow and his eyelids finally capitulated to the power of suggestion. The only one who appeared to be trying (feebly) to resist was Jake. He was leaning back as though trying to get away from his own hand, his eyes crossing as his fingers floated closer. But he might as well have been trying to resist the tide coming in, or dawn breaking. Inevitably, his hand too reached his face, and he collapsed like a punctured inner-tube to lie in tangled heap on his bunk.

I set all of them except Jesse on an open-ended deepening loop while I worked on his performance anxiety (like I said, I do play fair – his needs before furthering my own naughty plan). I won’t go into the whole process here. It’s a bit lengthy (even when it isn’t being interrupted from time to time by the need to keep other subjects from falling out of trance). But, in not too long a time, I had Jesse’s subconscious happily agreeing that he enjoyed performing very much, and actively looked forward to the excitement of an audience.

Of course, I needed to check on the effectiveness before moving on, so, in preparation for terminating the trances, I added Tom to active listening and programmed him and Jesse with the same trance cue phrase as the rest. Then I proceeded to wake everyone up, making sure that neither Jesse nor Tom would consciously remember having received that last little suggestion, and that Jake and Tanner wouldn’t remember they had been under hypnosis at all.

“Tanner, Jake… everything will be as I commanded. Wide awake!” Their eyes popped open and they both sat up straight. And immediately began to snicker, a little condescendingly, as they took in the sight of their three still obviously hypnotized cabin-mates, patently not realizing that they themselves had been just as helpless only seconds before.

“Well,” Jake smirked, “Looks like you bagged a couple over your limit. Mr. Hypnotist!”

“Yeah,” I chuckled, “Arizona and Tom seem to have gone along for the ride all right. It won’t hurt them any. They’ll just wake up feeling really good, without much recall of having been under. Arizona liked it so much this afternoon that I bet he was deliberately trying to be hypnotized again. Don’t know about Tom; he may just be really suggestible.” I turned to the sleeping young men. “Tom, Arizona, time to come back. At the count of three you be back in your full normal conscious awareness, feeling great. One… two… three.”

Arizona opened his eyes, not looking in the least surprised to find himself on the floor (and confirming my guess that his participation had not been unintentional). He stretched luxuriously, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Damn, I could really get used to this! Thanks for another terrific experience, Cole!”

Tom on the other hand seem confused. “What just happened? Why am I lying down?”

“Tom, you paid attention a little too closely. You got hypnotized right along with Jesse. Don’t worry, it did you no harm.”

“But I wanted to watch, darn it!”

“Well, since it wasn’t show-hypnosis, you didn’t miss out on much. The entertaining part will be what happens now. Jesse, at the count of three you’ll be wide awake… and you’ll find that you really want to give us a song, won’t you.”

It wasn’t a question, and Jesse nodded obediently, saying, in a blank, sleepy voice, “I really want to give a song, sir.” Sir?? I blinked. That suggested some interesting possibilities to explore later.

“One, two, three.”

Jesse slowly opened his eyes and the, without a word, got up from the chair and went over to his bunk, opened his guitar case, took out the instrument and sat back down, beginning to tune. To my practiced observation, he still looked a little vague and unfocused. But then, since he was acting under the post-hypnotic command I’d just given him, he really wasn’t all the way out of his trance, and wouldn’t be until he’d obeyed the compulsion. Satisfied with the intonation of his guitar, Jesse launched into “My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys”. It was stunning. The singing and the playing were just as excellent as they’d been earlier when I listened through the door, but now, experiencing them coupled with the full effect of Jesse’s undeniable charisma, I was riveted… and so were the rest of the guys. When he came to the end we all clapped and whooped and whistled, and Jesse was grinning like a little kid on Christmas morning. Tom begged him to sing another, and he happily obliged with the old Marty Robbins signature “El Paso”, delivering it with as much panache as Robbins himself.

When the song was over (again to much applause), Jesse set aside his guitar, his handsome face flushed and glowing. “I’ve never had so much fun singing! I never knew I could have so much fun!” he chortled. He grabbed my hand and pumped it. “Thank you, Cole, thank you! I feel like you just set free a part of me that’s been in prison all my life.”

I was smiling too now. “I’ll talk to Dad about getting you some performance opportunities here this summer. I know the guests will love it, and you’ll be making some serious money in tips!”

Everyone was still talking a mile a minute about Jesse’s wonderful impromptu show, but we all had to be up early the next morning, and, even though I hadn’t expected everyone to be under my control after only this one day, that was unarguably the case. There was no reason not to start laying down the ground rules for my little hypno-harem and having some fun. Firmly and clearly I said, “Bedtime, Buckaroo!” Instantly all five froze, their eyes either closing or remaining open but staring blankly straight ahead. You could have heard a pin drop. “All of you, walk over here and stand in front of me,” I commanded. They shuffled zombie-like to form a half-circle facing me. I looked at their zonked faces and immediately sported wood. I am totally into hypnotized guys! “You are going deeper into hypnosis… deeper than ever before… floating helplessly down… down… down… you can’t resist… you don’t want to resist… so much deeper that you will lose yourself entirely… your name is forgotten… you have no past… no purpose… nothing except my words… you are a blank and empty slate waiting without thoughts or will until I fill you with my words… my commands… helpless… obedient…” I turned to Arizona, the closest to me. “As I touch your face, you become mine. You will say, ‘I am your hypnotized cowboy slave, Cole’, and relinquish everything you are to my absolute, permanent control.” I tenderly cradled his handsome face between my hands.

“I am your hypnotized cowboy slave, Cole.” Arizona’s eyes were lifeless and dull like the windows in a long-derelict ghost town, his voice without a shred of personality or animation.

I moved on to Tanner.

“I am your hypnotized cowboy slave, Cole.”

Then Tom, Jake, and last, Jesse. Each cowboy rendered up his will without any resistance, robotically mouthing the phrase. “I am your hypnotized cowboy slave, Cole.”

“These are the rules you now will live by. They are unbreakable. Rule 1: Everything I tell you is true… everything I tell you, you will believe with all your heart, with all your mind, with all your will… Rule 2: You love being hypnotized and never pass up a chance… but only I can hypnotize you… no one else can… only for me will you go into trance… and for me you go into trance easily, instantly, always deeper and deeper even than you are now. Rule 3: In this cabin, you are completely comfortable with nudity. You sleep in the buff unless it’s really cold, and you can take off your clothes any time without worrying about whether any of us is looking. We’re all handsome guys, and it’s perfectly natural to look and be looked at. Rule 4: Any time your hear me say ‘horny’ you are instantly gay, turned on to the max, and ready to have sex with me or any of your bunkmates here. There will be no shyness, no confusion, no secrecy… you are convinced that it’s natural to make out with your bunkmates… that it’s natural to get off on our bodies… to kiss each other… to jerk each other off… to suck each other’s cocks… to fuck or be fucked. You obey these four rules instantly at all times, but you will never have any conscious awareness that they came from me or that they were implanted through hypnosis. To you, they are something you’ve always known, as unquestioned as the sun rising in the east, as irresistible as breathing, as irrefutable as gravity.” I realized I was getting a little wordy, so, to make sure nothing had miscarried, I ordered them to repeat the rules. Allowing for a certain amount of verbal confusion in the mesmerized chorus as they paraphrased in various ways, I could tell they’d all gotten the gist of it. Excellent! I quickly blanked their memories and woke them back up.

Having been under so many times already, and so deeply, it took them a little longer to rouse this time, and they all still looked a little bit zoned out, but none of them appeared to be particularly aware of the difference in themselves or each other. None showed any curiosity as to why they were arranged in a dutiful semi-circle before me. As if nothing had been going on, I cheerfully said, “Morning will be coming pretty early. I suggest we all turn in.” there were no demurrals and, to my total satisfaction, all of my newly-minted cowboy toys quickly began to strip to the buff.
I was treated to an amazing display of unconcerned male beauty as the guys, now naked as they day they were born, went through their personal getting-ready-for-bed rituals. I was rather surprised at how little body hair was in evidence. None of these ranch-ready types were so vain or self-absorbed that they had gone in for manscaping, but other than fairly restrained bushes at their pubes and armpits, even the darkest-haired among them showed their hard, sculpted chests, abs, and asses uncluttered with fur. I was probably the hairiest of the bunch, and yet I too am pretty smooth. Since they didn’t have an inkling that they were about to have wild sex, none of them was erect, but all were enticingly well-hung (the smallest cock was Tom’s, but it was pretty obvious he was a “grower” not a “shower”, so I wasn’t worried about him disappointing; Jesse was the only one who was uncut). I, on the other hand, was growing some major wood, but none of them took any particular notice. Thank goodness all of the posthypnotic instruction were in place! Jesse was the first into bed, on top of the sheets, and he looked damn fine stretched out as though just waiting for some action.

But, good as Jesse looked, I’d already decided that I was going to spend tonight with Arizona. My hands still tingled from the feel of his perfect, hard ass from earlier. Besides, I could pretty much guarantee that, once I triggered their sex-response, Tom would make a bee-line for his crush, and any attempt I might make to head him off would risk my being trampled. I sidled up to Arizona and said (in a carrying voice, to make sure the rest also heard), “Arizona, that fine ass of yours is making me horny! You’re gonna bed down with me tonight!” At the sound of the magic word every guy froze for a second… and then erections began to spring up like dandelions. I continued, “Jesse, I think you should teach our young Tom how to give you a proper blowjob,” (Jesse grinned and saluted me, then beckoned to Tom who, as predicted, practically left a vapor trail in his haste to hit Jesse’s bed), “and Jake, you and Tanner should throw to see who’s the top and then get it on. You’ll enjoy it either way.” (They were both kind of hard cases, so I didn’t much care who won this round; either one of them would be the better for a good fucking). I quickly passed out lube and condoms and then took Arizona (who was now looking at me with the true mindless heat of a born himbo) by the hand and led him to bed.

Before completely losing myself in my own cowboy playmate I looked briefly around the cabin. Tom was on his knees, his mouth full of Jesse, whose panting reaction suggested that the suck-action was more than acceptable. Jake, who had apparently lost the Rochambeau, was lying on his stomach, his perky ass in readiness for Tanner (who looked almost re-hypnotized by the prospect) to mount him. Everything was going as I had hoped, so I left them at it and concentrated on the matter at hand.

And he was well worth my undivided attention! As we kissed (and Arizona is a terrific kisser) and grappled, I was struck, even more forcibly than I had been I held his hypnotized but clothed body in my arms earlier that afternoon, at how absolutely perfect he felt to me. His every proportion and shape fitted my own dimensions and preferences to a tolerance that would have passed inspection in an engineer’s laboratory. And then there was his scent! Arizona’s soap, or deodorant, or cologne, whichever it was, while not strong or recent, had left a delicious, spicy, wholly masculine overtone that I loved, but at the same time, since he’d been working all day and had only performed the briefest token wash-up, he still had plenty of sexy, man-smell. God, I just wanted to eat every inch of him! And why the hell not? There was nothing to stop me. I disengaged my mouth from his and began to administer a tongue-bath that soon had me dripping with excitement and him delightedly begging for mercy. I finished by feasting on his magnificent buns until he was almost incoherent with lust, and then suited and lubed myself for action.

I felt Arizona tense as the head of my hard cock kissed his pucker. I whispered, “Bedtime, Buckaroo,” and he instantly relaxed, back in deepest hypnosis. “Arizona, you’re going to feel nothing but pleasure as I slide into you. You will have the best sex you’ve ever had because you’re hypnotized and I order you to. You can’t resist me. Every inch of your body is becoming more and more sensitive to erotic stimulation. You feel it now, don’t you, boy?”

“Yes, Cole.” His voice was soft and vague with trance once again, but his skin seemed almost to vibrate under my hands as I caressed him.

“And it’s just going keep on getting better and better and better. You won’t cum ’til I tell you to, but when you do, it’s going be an orgasm the likes of which you’ve never had before or even dreamed of having. Sex under hypnosis is going to rock your world!” I stopped talking and got down to the business of what turned out to be an absolutely spectacular fuck. I schooled my raging cock to enter him slowly and carefully. Like everything else about my handsome cowboy hypno-toy, it was a perfect fit, and as his warm, moist sheath enveloped me I swear I saw God. And once I was all the way in and beginning to work it, Arizona didn’t just lie there like a hypnotized zombie either, even though he was one. He bucked and flexed against my thrusts as he jerked his own cock, and his ass-muscles milked me better than I’ve ever milked a heifer. I can’t truly say how long we managed to sustain the skyrocketing excitement. But eventually flesh did what flesh must do and I could edge no longer. I gasped’ “Cum now, Arizona!” and proceed to pump what felt like my immortal soul into his welcoming ass. This was better than my wildest dreams! Lord, if sex was going to be like this every night, I was a dead man!

I lay on Arizona’s satiny back as we both caught our breath. Eventually I was able to organize my thoughts and senses enough to take stock of the larger picture. The cabin was filled with the smells of man-sex and pheromones, an almost palpable cloud of satisfied cowboy lust. Tanner and Jake were curled up together almost asleep, while Tom was still lazily kissing Jesse’s chest, his expression so filled with happiness that it made me wonder if he might actually be gay (and not just by hypnotic command).

Well, I hadn’t been kidding about tomorrow starting up early, so, sighing regretfully to myself, I proceeded with the necessary clean-up. “Bedtime, Buckaroo,” I called, immediately acquiring their full and obedient attention. All of you return to your own bunks. You’ll sleep soundly for the rest of the night and wake up rarin’ to go, with no memory of anything sexual having happened tonight. Understand?”

“Yessir, Cole.” It was like a ritual Greek chorus (although only Jesse had added the ‘sir’ – I really would have to explore that one of these days soon!). They untangled themselves from each other and Tom, Tanner and Arizona sleepwalked back to their own beds. In seconds every one of them was asleep, Arizona and Jake both snoring softly. I moved quietly among them collecting the used condoms to dispose of them. It would put an impossibly severe a strain on the posthypnotic conditioning if any of them had to try to ignore a used rubber on his cock when he woke up tomorrow morning! Satisfied that everything was ship-shape (except for the smell, which would have dissipated by the time anyone awoke), I too went back to my bunk and was soon fast asleep.

So my perilous attitude problem is officially a thing of the past. Now, if someone is making trouble or something goes wrong, all I have to do is think of Tanner’s sweet lips and bedroom eyes, Tom’s heart-melting grin, Jake’s long, sexy legs, Arizona’s perky, perfect butt, Jesse’s utter coolness, all those beautiful cowboy faces and smokin’-hot cowboy bodies and what I will be doing with one or another of them come lights-out, and all the annoyance just rolls right off me like water off a duck’s back. This is shaping up to be the best summer ever!!

Mind control
Wanking material
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