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It’s the helpless, lost expression on Eddie’s face that Paul loves so very much. The rest of him is utterly fucking gorgeous too, from his tiny pink nipples all gathered up into stiff buds to the tattoos standing out against his pale skin to the fine coating of soft little hairs on his thighs and belly to his throbbing little cocklet, stiff and erect as he waits for Paul to plumb the warm, wet opening just beneath it. But it’s the look in his eyes that gets Paul hard every single time. That thousand-yard stare that tells Paul that Eddie’s tough guy exterior has been melted away by hypnosis and arousal, leaving a meek and submissive good boy behind who just needs a Master to tell him what to do. That is so fucking nice.

It’s so good that Paul can’t help extending the moment a little bit longer, even though his cock absolutely aches to plunge into Eddie’s depths and fuck him until his sweet little pet howls in ecstasy. He reaches down and lightly swats Eddie with his cock, delighting in the way the younger man twitches and moans with helpless, uncontrollable arousal. “Does my good little boy want to get fucked?” Paul asks, his voice lilting with amusement and desire mingled together into a rush of complete, total power. “Does my good little boy want a nice big cock to fill him up and make him feel all soft and submissive for Master?”

It’s utterly adorable to watch Eddie’s head bob up and down in an eager, almost desperate nod in response. Anyone seeing Eddie on the street might give him a wide berth, the leather and muscles and tattoos and earrings and body modifications marking him as someone not to mess with. But Paul knows how to find the soft, sweet, obedient good boy hidden under the layers of toughness. He knows exactly where to stroke his lover’s forehead to smooth that scowl into a gentle smile, exactly how to whisper into Eddie’s ears to make him melt into blank, placid compliance. He knows how to make all those muscles so weak with desire that Eddie can do nothing but lie back, legs spread wide, so helpless to his own needs that all he can do is silently plead with those mesmerized eyes of his for the fucking he wants so bad. Paul can’t resist those pretty green puppy dog eyes, can he?

Of course not. He sinks his shaft into Eddie with a growled, “Good boy,” fucking him with a hunger that almost astonishes even him. “That’s my good boy, that’s my good boy,” Paul repeats over and over with every thrust, his fingers moving down to tease the entrance to Eddie’s ass or up to rub that stiff little cock of his. Eddie moans helplessly, his shuddery whimpers perfectly matching the pace of Paul’s hard fucking until they echo off the bedroom walls. Paul’s become very glad he has his own house since he started dating Eddie.

“That’s my good boy.” Paul strains his hips, already struggling to control his arousal. “That’s my good boy.” He wants to give Eddie a nice, deep, long fuck, make his obedient pet cum and cum and cum until the younger man is nothing but a puddle of blank, mindless ecstasy. “That’s my good boy.” But the very same helpless, awed expression that makes Paul so happy is the one that makes it so hard not to fill his condom with his load. “That’s my good boy.” It’s so easy to cum staring down into Eddie’s hypnotized eyes. Paul has to struggle to keep himself from giving in to his urges. “That’s my good, g-good boy…” He always fails sooner or later. But it never takes long before Eddie’s blank, devoted stare makes him hard all over again… and his sweet, submissive pet is always ready to beg for more.

(Uncensored @ My Bsky)

A good brainwashed trophy doesn't need to think.

Trophies are much better at showing off their gains.

Blissfully on display, eager to do as he's told

Feeling so proud and hard when admired and shown off

he will understand soon.

SURRENDER

SUBMIT

You repeated the words as you sat naked in the chair, staring intently at the screen. You didn’t know how long you had been that way and you didn’t care. You were Master’s Obedient Toy.

Your cock twitched with each pulse of light from the screen. The spiral reflected in your eyes and mind. Pleasure pulsing through your mind and cock with each pulse. As the words rang out through your ears, echoed through your voice.

“I am Master’s Obedient Toy”

“What am I…?” You asked, as you  picked it up, examining it. It was four separate metal pieces, wound around each other, like a rope.

You pushed on one, and quickly, all four came apart. “That wasn’t so hard.” You said, looking back up at your hypnotist, who was grinning.

“That wasn’t the puzzle, silly.” They said, giggling. “No. Now, you need to put it back together. But first…”

They had stepped forwards, and cupped your chin. “Whilst you actually complete the puzzle, toy, you’re going to find your mind being drained. Your ability to think will be pulled away, the longer you take. I wonder if you’ll complete it before you become to stupid to do so.”

They were grinning at you, as they released your chin. Your mind was already beginning to feel foggy. “So the actual puzzle, my plaything, is to put the four strands back together again. Good luck.” They waited for you to pick up two of the strands, and then sat down to watch.

* * *

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Something near David smelled good. The thought popped into his groggy brain, penetrating the fog of sleep that still clung to his mind and made his limbs too heavy to move, and his nostrils flared ever so slightly as he inhaled a little bit deeper to try to get more of the intoxicating scent into his lungs. He didn’t associate the vaguely familiar aroma with waking up, he knew that much; it wasn’t brewing coffee or cooking bacon or any of the other things that David connected to his morning routine. No, it was a… a sleepy scent? Did that make sense? Did smells put you to sleep? David didn’t know why, but he felt intuitively certain that the answer was ‘yes’.

Because somehow he was getting even sleepier. It seemed like an impossibility–how could you get sleepier than actual sleep? But the more David breathed in that musky, familiar, deliciously intimate aroma the heavier his body felt and the more he sagged onto the mattress in limp, lazy paralysis. Even his thoughts seemed paralyzed; David had the faintest hint of awareness, but the faculties of actual thought didn’t seem to be coming online. He was just awake enough to know he was asleep, and that made him feel even drowsier than the genuine oblivion of unconsciousness. And knowing that made him dreamier still.

The more he breathed in the scent, the deeper he went. The deeper he went, the steadier his breathing became. The steadier his breathing became, the more he breathed in the drug of that intoxicating scent. It all came together in a perfect feedback loop that made David cataleptic within moments. His cock stiffened and became erect, but even that didn’t rouse him from the fugue state he drifted through. He lay there, inhaling the aroma his brain instinctively and unthinkingly associated with deep, mindless trance, and waited. For… for… David didn’t know. He simply waited.

And then he felt it, warm flesh trailing its way along the soft stubble of his bearded chin. David knew instantly what was touching him, connected the image in his sleepy brain immediately with the musky aroma that saturated his lungs, and his mouth slowly began to open into a wide, vacant ‘O’ in anticipation. He didn’t know how he knew–the trance seemed to separate him from his waking memories of life as a straight man behind an obsidian wall that reflected only his submissive arousal back at hm–but of course it was a cock rubbing against his face. Of course it was a pair of heavy, thickly-scented balls brushing against his lips. Of course it was time to suck. That happened when David was blank and sleepy like this, and he didn’t need to think about it any more.

David shifted, his body somehow knowing just what to do without any conscious input from him, and his head lolled back off the mattress to make a perfectly straight passage down his throat for his Master to penetrate. The cock pushed between David’s lips, slid all the way into his mouth and beyond, but David didn’t gag. Master had numbed that particular reflex, switched off a supposedly autonomic function as easily as turning off a light, so that he could fuck David’s face all morning long. And still drowsy, still mindless, David presented the perfect hole for his Master’s hard musky cock.