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Subject: NEW STORY: "Truth" (mm mc)
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Disclaimer:  The usual.  This is a work of adult fiction and bears no
relation to reality.  If you think this is disgusting, you should see some of
the other stuff around here.

Copyright 1998 by Walter Ego.  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
author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

Comments, curses, etc. to gwbridge@hotmail.com


The Truth (mm mc)
by Walter Ego

I took my breakup with Barbara very hard.  I had
thought I had finally found the one woman I always
desired, and suddenly, out of the blue, she announces
it's over.  I was totally dejected.  For months, I did
little but go back and forth to work, and sit in my
apartment staring at the walls.

That's when I ran into Steve.  He was an old friend
from college and, to tell you the truth, I didn't even
know he was still in town.  I ran into him at the Food
Giant.  He seemed delighted to see me.  Then, he asked
me how I was.

It opened a floodgates.  I had been bottling
everything in, and all my feelings suddenly burst out.
Steve seemed to encourage it with a few very
sympathetic sounds.

"I'm sorry," I said to him when I finished.  "You
probably aren't interested in listening to problems
like this."

"On the contrary," he said.  "I'm very used to it.
I'm a psychologist."

"Really?"

"No shit.  License and everything."  He grinned.
"Look, I can tell you probably still want to talk.
Why don't you come over to my place?"

"I don't want to impose."

"Of course you won't  What are friends for?  Besides,
why pass up a free session?  People usually pay me
eighty bucks an hour."

I smiled back at him.  "OK," I said.  It couldn't
hurt.

###

Steve lived in a big old apartment with a view of the
river.  He had already brought out a couple of beers
when I got there.  "Feeling any better?"

"A little," I said.

We talked a little, sipping our drinks.  I let Steve
fill me in with his life, though, as he put it, there
was little to tell.  He did well in his practice and
lived alone.  "No problems with women," he said, and
laughed.

The sentence depressed me.  "God," I said.  "I miss
her so much."

Steve gave me an appraising look.  "You know, George,
this moping isn't good for you."

"Tell me about it," I said.  "I guess I still need
more time."

"Maybe.  Or maybe there is a quicker way.  I bet you'd
jump at that chance."

I looked at him dubiously.  "You have something in
mind.  What?"

"Hypnotism."

If his goal was the cheer me up by making me laugh, he
was a success.  "I don't believe in that mumbo jumbo."

Steve nodded.  "A lot of my patients feel that way,
too.  You see all the stupid stuff on TV and the cheap
Las Vegas type of shows and you think it's all a big
joke.  But it can be a very helpful tool.  The mind is
a very powerful thing; it can make you miserable, or
it can cure you."

"What?  Are you saying you can make me forget about
Barbara?"

"No.  This is hypnotism, not magic.  It can only help
you do what you want to do in the first place."

I thought about it for a few minutes.  I was doing
myself no good the way I was acting.  This idea, as
crazy as it seemed, might just be a way to get back my
equilibrium.  "OK," I finally said.  "I'm willing."

"Are you sure?  It won't work if you have too many
second thoughts."

"Hell, yes," I said.  "I can't go on moping the rest
of my life.  What do you want me to do?  Stare at a
watch or something?"

"I leave that to Las Vegas.  No, just pick something.
Anything."

I looked around the room.  My eyes lighted on the
empty beer bottle.  'That," I said.

Steve nodded.  "Good choice.  Now look at it.  Look at
it carefully.  It's a very special bottle, you see.
But you have to keep looking to find out why."  His
voice lowered as he contined; to me, it was still a
bottle.  "Keep watching.  It's so interesting.  So
important.  But you have to LOOK at it.  You have to
see it.  Focus in on it.  Watch the play of light upon
it.  It's all so interesting.  Fascinating even.  You
never knew how fascinating it could be."  His voice
was soft now.  "See the light.  See the shape.
Fascinating.  So fascinating."

It WAS interesting, I thought

Steve went on.  "You like watching it.  You find it
very calming, very relaxing.  Feel yourself become
calm.  Feel yourself floating.  Keep watching it.  The
rest of you doesn't matter. All you want to do it
reach for this calm, relaxing feeling.  You know by
watching the bottle, you can become calm and relaxed."
He paused a moment.  "Take a deep breath, then let the
air out."

I did as he said.

"That's relaxing.  So relaxing.  Do it again, and each
time you will relax more."

I took another deep breath, then let it out.

"All your tension is leaving you.  You feel happy and
warm inside.  Comfortable.  Very comfortable.  Feel
yourself drifting away from yourself.  Drifting.
Floating."

I WAS floating.  It felt like it was moving in a
gentle soft spiral.  I kept my eyes on the beer
bottle; I didn't want to lose the pleasant feeling.

"So nice, so pleasant, just to drift away.  Let
yourself drift.  You are in good hands.  You can trust
me completely.  Just let yourself go.  Let yourself
float away from your cares.  There's nothing to worry
about.  You trust me.  You want to do whatever I ask.
It's so nice to move away from your cares.  You want
to obey me."  He paused a moment, then asked, "what do
you want?"

I was confused for a moment, and almost pulled away
from the warm happy place.  Then a voice from far away
answered.  "Obey you."  I think it may have been mine.

"Very good," Steve said.  "Now, as you float, you find
your eyelids are getting pleasantly heavy.  You want
to fall into a deep, restful sleep.  Feel yourself
floating down into it, relaxing totally.  You find it
hard to keep your eyelids open.  You won't try to
fight it.  You will fall asleep, but still listen to
my commands.  It may seem odd, but you will find it
easier to listen once you drop off.  Understand?"

"Yes," my voice said.  It was so hard to keep my
eyelids open.  I needed to sleep.

"When I count to three, you will fall deeply asleep,
but you will still hear me and follow my commands.
You will sleep until I tell you to wake up.  You will
listen to me as you sleep, and obey my words.  They
will be what you really want to do.  Understand?"

"Yes."  It was all so simple that way.

"One . . . "

I felt myself drifting further.

"Two."

So tired, so peaceful, so happy.

"Three."

I fell asleep.

------

I woke up.

I was seated on Steve's couch.  He was sitting right
next to me.  "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Feel?"  I thought about it.  "OK.  What did you do?"

"Nothing you didn't want.  You know it's true that I
couldn't make you do anything against our will.  So,
what about Barbara?"

"Barbara?"  It took me a moment to place the name.
"Oh, her."

"How do you feel about her now?"

I tried to think.  I remembered we had broken up, and
that I was upset.

Or was I?  It was as though that were a long lost part
of me, a memory so faded that it ceased to have any
power over me.  I was looking at it more logically
now.  It was sad that it ended, of course, but I was
really better off without her.  "Much better."

Steve beamed.  He placed a hand on my arm; it felt
reassuring.  I was grateful to him for all his help.
I told him so.

He smiled again.  This time, he leaned closer.  Then,
he kissed me.

It surprised me.  I felt I should have pulled away,
avoided it, yet, for some reason, I felt unable to
take the action.  Instead, to my surprise, I kissed
back.

He broke the kiss, and smiled again.  "I've been
wanting to do that ever since I knew you in college."

I felt a tremendous warm feeling for him.  "And I've .
. . "

Whoa, I thought.  This was all too much.  I stood up
to leave.  "You've done something to me!  You've
hypnotized me into feeling this way."

"Of course not," Steve said.  "You can't make people
do what they don't want anyway."

"Well, I don't want this!  You're abusing your
doctor/patient relationship!"

"I'm not your doctor," he pointed out.  "I'm just a
friend.  Or maybe more than that."

"No chance," I said.  "I'm leaving now.  And I never
want to see your face again."

"We'll see," Steve said.  "Now, sit down, boy."

And I was sitting.  I don't remember doing it; all I
remember was being back on the couch next to him.

"Stop being so bothered," Steve said.  "Think of this
as an opportunity."

A part of me was frightened about the way I had done
what he had told.  But I really wasn't thinking about
that.  I mostly wanted to listen to Steve.

"Do you want me?" Steve asked.  "Sexually, I mean."

"No," I said.  "I'm not interested in men."

"Are you sure?  Tell the truth."

"No!"

"You've never fantasized about it?  Tell the truth,
boy.  You know you have to tell me the truth."

There were time, of course.  You jack off and somehow
the idea of a man being there with you slips into your
thoughts.  But I couldn't tell that to anyone.

But it was the truth.  I told Steve.

He seemed pleased.  "Very good," he said.  "And I bet
you've seen a few porn films, too."

"Just straight ones."

"Ah, but you've noticed the men.  Their cocks.  You've
watched their cocks."

Had I?  No . . .

Steve's voice was in a whisper.  "Yes.  You have."

I realized he was right.  How did he know?  "Yes," I
said.

"I thought so.  You certainly got turned on that time
you saw me in the shower back in college."

I frowned.  "Don't remember that."

"Sure you do.  Think hard.  Remember it?"

"No . . . "

"Let me describe it.  I was showering, just finished
up, when you came into the shower. You stared at me.
You stared at my cock.  I asked you if you liked what
you saw, and you got very embarassed.  Later, you went
back to your room and masturbated thinking about it.
Remember it, boy."

And I did remember.  How could I put something like
that so far out of my mind?  Up until he told me to
remember, I would have sworn it didn't happen.  But he
told me to remmber and I did.  "Yes," I said.  "I
remember."

Steve smiled.  "I knew you would, once I reminded you.
And you've thought about it a lot over the years.
You've masturbated to it many a time.  Often, you'd
even think about it when you were fucking a woman."

"No," I murmured.  I vaguely felt something was wrong
here.

"Yes, boy.  Yes."

"Yes," I said, and everything was all right again.

"You are gay, then."

I shook my head.  "No.  No, I'm not."

"Look at the evidence, George.  You like looking at
cocks.  You masturbate -- and fuck -- thinking of men.
I'm a psychologist.  I know these things.  You are
gay."

I felt a touch of panic.  No, I wasn't.  But he was
right.  All these things were true.  I had forgotten
them.

"It's all right," Steve said soothingly.  "I know
you've repressed all this.  That's not unusual.  But
now you know the truth."

"The truth," I murmured.

"The truth is, you'd like to suck cock.  You'd like to
have a stong man fucking you in the ass.  You'd ... "

"NO!" I screamed.  "No.  I'd hate that.  I'd never
want that."

"Relax," Steve said.  He gently touched my hand, then
my face.  "I know how disorienting this can be.  I'll
help you through it."

I felt grateful.  "Thanks," I murmured.  I felt a
gentle warmth at his kindness.

"So you think you don't really want a man filling you
ass, or you mouth?"

I shook my head.  "Never.  Never even thought about
it."

He nodded.  "That's the answer, then.  You were afraid
to think about it.  Afraid that what it might mean."

"I guess," I muttered.

"But you have nothing to fear.  You know you're gay,
so it doesn't matter."

"No," I said.  "I could never -- "

"It no longer bothers you, boy,"  he commanded.

I felt as though a weight had been lifted.  Something
had changed, and my fears were suddenly gone.  I
realized he was right, that I had only feared it
because I wanted it so much.  It now struck me as
foolish that I had the slightest doubts.

"Would you like to have me fuck you?"

I thought about it.  Now that I had seen the reality,
I realized I loved the idea.  In a way, I was anxious
to have Steve's cock buried deep inside me.  "Yes," I
whispered.

He softly stroked my cheek.  "Good, boy.  You like
being my boy, don't you?"

I pressed his hand to my lips.  "Yes, sir."

"Good.  Now I want you to think.  Think of the perfect
way to start our new relationship.  Not through any
tricks or stories, but through your desire.  You come
in here, and something happens to make you realize you
are mine.  It will be passionate, and romantic, and
just perfect for you.  Think, boy.  Think."

"Yes, sir," I said.  I thought.

"Well?"

"I'm here," I said.  "And you go away for a few
minutes.  I start to wonder where you are."  My cock
was stiffening as I spoke; the fantasy was so perfect.
"I go looking.  I find you in your bedroom.  You're
naked and your cock is stiff.  I climb in bed with you
and we make love."

"Good, boy," Steve said, and I beamed.  "Very good."
He thought for a moment.  "When I tell you to sleep,
you will fall back into your trance.  You won't
remember any of this conversation, but you will
remember its conclusions:  that you are my boy."  He
paused.  "You know, I could have just taken you in
your sleep, like the others; you would have woken up
with a sore ass and no memories.  But this time I
wanted more.  You can't hypnotize someone to become
gay against his will.  But you can CHANGE his will."
He smiled.  "That shower story was true, you know.
Only I was describing how I felt when I saw YOU.  And
now, that dream has come true.  I think this is the
beginning of a wonderful relationship.  Sleep, boy."

I fell asleep.

----

I woke up.

Steve wasn't there and I wondered what happened to
him.  He was supposed to hypnotize me, but nothing
happened.  Nothing at all.

I went looking at him.

I found him in his bedroom.  He was naked.

I remembered how it was back in college, when I saw
his cock and wanted it.  I wanted it now, more than
ever.  I wanted to taste it, to feel it inside me.

I was in love.  Forever.  And that was the truth.

I climbed into bed with my master.

end











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