Last week, we introduced two important figures in this journal: The Switch Pup and The Roommate. The Switch Pup, as mentioned, motivated me to be here writing my thoughts down each week. Meanwhile, The Roommate served as my kinky spark, igniting a fire within me that would burn for years to come. So, if we’re to have a regular reflection on my current state, it seems pertinent that we take some time to showcase both of them.
Today’s entry will be akin to a sandwich. We’ll start with the present and our Switch Pup friend before taking a trip to the past to discuss The Roommate. Finally, we’ll pull the two of them together to consider the present once more and a bit of future uncertainties, worries, and desires.
May I Take Your Order?
Historically fascinated by them, now getting the opportunity to try fulfilling them, orders have long been something I’ve wanted to experience. For the curious, I consider myself a vers sub. While I’ve occasionally had dominant moments, they’re always framed around the desire to perform acts that would provide someone with pleasure in a way that they would find pleasing.
Outside of the occasional hypno encounter, it was remarkably rare for me to get to experience receiving an order, let alone fulfilling it. After all, we all want that sweet “good boy” reward, right? We want to know that something we’ve done has helped a dom feel good. So, when I finally received an order for real from someone I felt I could trust, after all the years of wonder and anticipation, the rush was indescribable.
Our Switch Pup offered a handful of orders for me to try, each one as addictive as the next. They were simple things like being instructed to: wear a cup to bed, wear a cup during the work day, send a cup check-in photo, or create this very journal. But, each time I knew a small order was being typed, I felt my heart race increase or my body feel flush. It was thrilling. I knew he wanted to see me fulfill these orders because doing so would make him feel good, perhaps just as good as I would feel when I received that “good boy” at the end.
Needless to say, I felt validated. Finally, something I wondered about for so long without getting to experience in real time happened to me… and it felt good! All those fantasies I ran through in my mind, those hypno files I looped, left me ready to experience exactly what I hoped for.
Have You Ever Been Hypnotized?
To really appreciate just how long I’ve anticipated getting to obey a single order, we need to head back a few years. Well, perhaps more than a few. It’s really more like 12 or 13 years now.
I met The Roommate at a post-game skate in the spring semester of freshman year. As I, a small, questioning – bi, gay, or otherwise – queer guy, stood waiting for access to the ice across from this much taller guy with piercing blue eyes, strong arms, and a grey sweatpants bulge sent from the powers above, I felt something. So, imagine my surprise when he talked to me. He somehow already knew me. And he had this beautiful, smooth, magnetic voice.
Though we didn’t have much time on the ice together, it was just enough for us to become inseparable. He was in the pep band, I was a mascot and an avid fan of our hockey teams. He was mutuals with a friend of mine. Neither of us had played hockey but we wanted to try it. I wasn’t great at skating yet but he was great at leading and supporting me. He could carry our conversation and I would follow him and his thoughts wherever they went.
The slope down which I fell for him was perhaps as slippery as the very surface we skated across that night.
We naturally decided to become roommates in the following year, though the journey to then wasn’t smooth. That summer, amidst him bringing me to buy my first hockey stick and gear or trying my first pickup game, he also battled financial and academic troubles. I remember one particular night when we went on an exceptionally long city walk, just sharing what was bringing us down and our uncertainties for the future. I had never had another guy friend with whom I could simply share so much before. Nor had I ever had a guy friend whom I could hug at the end of a several hours long, heartfelt conversation that left us feeling vulnerable and in need of comfort.
The hug lasted longer than it should have. I didn’t want to let him go. His warmth, his honesty, his scent, and his touch silenced every thought in my head.
We’ll fast-forward to the fall semester. Despite his troubles, we still landed in the same dorm room together, excited to share even more time together. By this time, despite not realizing my affection for him that spanned beyond friendship (we won’t talk about the money I spent on gifts for him or buying the same apparel he wore), I did realize that I was interested in hypnosis. I also realized that I was interested in hypnotizing him. I had also found a research study on hypnosis inductions that included a full susceptibility script and, naturally, used my precious print quota to produce a copy and tuck it away in my desk just in case an opportunity to try it arose.
We had a habit of having long conversations between turning the lights off and falling asleep. We talked about all sorts of things until one night I decided to ask him if he believed in hypnosis. While I don’t recall the specifics of the conversation, I would say he was both a believer but also not particularly interested or skeptical. Despite my strange desire bubbling inside me to covertly hypnotize him in our sleepy state, logic got the better of me and I filed away the hypnosis topic, never raising it again aloud. That’s not to say, however, that it didn’t persist in my mind.
I spent a lot of time trying to deny the fantasies I held of him. It was, honestly, remarkable how long I persisted given how almost every aspect of this man turned me on. There are many moments I can share but, for this entry, I’ll focus on the first time I snuck his jock shorts from his hockey bag.
Bright yellow, Bauer brand, size L, and effusing the most intoxicating musk, those jock shorts stole glances from me from across the room for quite some time. The Roommate had, at this point, taken on a girlfriend and was staying over at her dorm for the evening. I, an overtired, single studier left to his own devices finally let curiosity get the better of him. Nervously, I tiptoed over to his laundry pile and gently grabbed his jock.
“I can’t do this,” I thought, “These are his! They touch his dick! Oh god I’ll be in so much trouble if he finds out I touched them!”
But, I couldn’t put them down. Instead, after giving his jock a sniff, the only things I put down were my own pants and underwear before slipping the jock on. I had never worn a cup until that moment and the sensation, combined with the knowledge of whose cup it was, set of firecrackers in my mind. It was just an impressively massive piece of plastic in a pouch under the most appealing, bright yellow mesh fabric. Why did it feel so good? Why didn’t I want to take it off?
So, I didn’t take it off. Instead, I wore it back into my bed, got under my covers, and resumed studying with occasional breaks to lift the sheets and see how much of his scent built up in the air. This continued for a while, my cock hard and leaking the whole time. After reading a few pages of my psychology textbook, I couldn’t handle it anymore. I needed release.
I stood up and the subtle momentary movement against my cock and balls was enough to push me to orgasm. In a panic, I ran to grab a tissue repeating “fuck, fuck, fuck” to myself while struggling to hold in the impending sticky doom. Barely making it, I came… and came… and came. His jock remained untainted, unchanged. My mind was altered forever. After all, how could something so stressful be so pleasurable?
Sniff and Obey, Boy
The Roommate’s jock become a recurring subject of my fantasies after that fateful night. Perhaps the strongest, most recurring one, involved him using the cup as the trigger to make me mindlessly obedient to him. Deep down inside, I wanted him to use me sexually. I wanted him to crave me just as much as I craved him. And I wanted him to be nervous about it, just like I was.
In the fantasy, he would call me over to his bed to show me something while faint beats played from his stereo. Sitting down on his bed, he’d pull me in close, wrapping his arm around my side. He’d pull out his phone to show me some video and, while I was distracted, strap his cup in front of my face.
“That’s it boy, just take a deep sniff and drop for me,” he’d say.
“Such a good boy,” he’d follow with.
“The deeper you sniff, the deeper you obey, and the better you feel. Just drop, deeper and deeper for me boy. Fall into my voice. Fall into my scent. No resistance, no thoughts, just sink into the musk, boy.”
I, unaware to the fact that this had happened several times, would already be deeply conditioned to associate his voice and scent with pleasure. I wouldn’t be able to resist his commands, his words, his orders.
After being sufficiently deepened by the him of my fantasy, we would begin training. Timing his commands for me to breathe his jock scent in deeply with firm strokes of my cock, I would reinforce the connection between my pleasure, his scent, and his ownership of my cock. Between commands to breath, he would whisper suggestions and commands into my ear. Things like how I wasn’t in control of my pleasure, he was. Or how he was the owner of my cock and my pleasure. Or how I couldn’t cum unless he allowed me to after pleasuring him.
After he successfully edged me like this, the fantasy would progress to him ordering me to get down on my knees and suck him off, taking deep whiffs of his scent from the source. Naturally, the whispers and orders , interspersed with meaningful “good boy” use, would continue while I sucked. He would cum, I would be ordered to swallow it, and be called a good boy, petted, and praised for making him feel so good.
As a reward, I would receive a special order. He would make me cum so long as I forgot everything that happened. I would still know deep down in my body and subconscious that his voice, his scent, and his domination remained in control of me and that I would drop and obey his orders without needing to think about it. I would agree, and he would suck me off, bringing me to the perfect climax before reinforcing how I would drift, sleep, relax, and forget before waking up and continuing with my day unaware that something occurred between us.
For the record, I often experienced this fantasy fully in mind mind. Sometimes, however, I would indulge in it with his jock and cup in hand. I was lucky if I made it all the way to the end of those sessions…
There was something always sensual about this fantasy. He was never rough. He would gently embrace me, drop me, and strap the jock to me. He always cared about me and my pleasure while also keeping what happened between us a total secret. He wouldn’t want me or him to be found out as queer, after all. What a fascinating way for me to project my own feelings, in retrospect!
What Should I Order?
It’s hard to believe that 12 years passed between me forming this fantasy and our favorite Switch Pup giving me an opportunity to try a simple order (he even made it jock and cup related). One thing is for sure, I like taking on orders and tasks, so long as they are within a comfortable range for me. I love the feeling of being able to fulfill something soft for someone and receiving praise after. I don’t think I’ll ever want something rough, though.
Honestly, I feel nervous coming to this realization. I know I’ll want to seek this to feel fulfilled in the future. But, I’m just not sure how go about introducing it with a potential partner. The fear of them pushing away from me dominates my mind (and this is absolutely not the domination my mind craves). Perhaps that’s why I’m so thankful for the conversations I’ve had with fellow hypno subs or likeminded pups online lately. It’s reinforced the idea that I can actually find someone to express my desires to and compromise with, even without being ordered to do so.
Will that be in the form of just a submissive guy? A pup? A drone? A guy in hockey gear? Some combination? I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. Each one of these as-is makes me feel nervous but, as a whole, they promise a more accurate, complete picture of who I am.
Perhaps that’s a good thought to leave this post on for tonight. It’s long enough after all. Let’s explore that a bit more together some time, shall we? Until then,
– HypnoCron