Sofa Sin
Avi lay motionless on the sofa, his shirtless torso a masterpiece of chiseled muscles now rigid and unresponsive. The afternoon sunlight cast a warm glow over his body, highlighting the defined contours of his abs and the subtle veins tracing his arms. His blank stare at the ceiling sent a twisted thrill through me. This wasn't the plan; I was supposed to be his hypnotherapist, but now, he’s my mindless puppet, and I’m the one pulling the strings.
I stepped closer, my eyes tracing the perfect symmetry of his body. His chest rose and fell in slow, mechanical breaths.
It started small. Just moments ago, I had him lift his arms, supposedly to check his progress.
"Hold it right there," I commanded, my voice low. He froze, his biceps bulging, his skin glistening with sweat.
I leaned in, dipping my head directly under his raised arm, burying my nose deep into his damp armpit. The scent hit me—the musky, raw aroma of his effort. I took a long, deep, chest-expanding breath, drawing the potent smell into my lungs until I felt the dizzying rush of it, which sent a hard, hot throb straight down my core.
I pulled back, slightly breathless, already rock hard. Avi lowered his arm and offered a perfect, genuine laugh.
"Ha ha ha, bro, you’re weird. Isn’t that smelling too bad?"
"Nah," I smirked. "Just making sure you’re putting in the work."
As he relaxed, his eyes drifted down, and then mine followed. The fabric of his gym shorts was straining, clearly tented by a rapidly swelling erection.
Avi immediately tensed, the hypnotic mental barrier clicking into place. "Whoa. Sorry, man. Didn’t realize... I gotta keep my head clear, you know? No distractions. Gotta avoid all that stuff for the photoshoot—no sex, no fooling around. My girl knows, it's gotta be total focus." He sounded genuinely stressed by the unexpected arousal.
I stepped closer, kneeling beside the sofa, my voice dropping into the deep, resonant tone I used for conditioning. "Relax, Avi. That's just your body responding to pure physical exertion. But you're right, we need to eliminate distractions. The stress of that energy is going to break your focus and bring back those cravings. You need to release the tension to maintain the mental block."
I trailed my fingers along the heavy ridge beneath his shorts. "Since you can't go near your girl, and since absolute focus is our goal, I'm offering a perfectly sterile, non-distracting solution. Think of it as decompressing a pressure valve. A quick bro job to reset your focus. It's totally normal. It's part of the plan."
His eyes glazed over as the new command overrode the old one. The conflict drained out of his face, replaced by heavy desire and complete acceptance. "You're the boss, man. You know the best way to handle this."
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his shorts, my eyes already fixed on the bulge. I’d seen it before, hinted beneath clothes, felt the subtle brush against my leg during training, and I had wanted to see it. Now, with a slow, deliberate pull, the fabric gave way. There it was: his thick, hardening cock, bursting free. It was a magnificent, viney monster, throbbing with a life of its own, streaked with glistening pre-cum. My breath hitched as I finally got to feast my eyes on what I’d craved to touch for so long.
“Such a good boy,” I tease, my thumb brushing the head of his dick. He shudders, his body responding even if his mind is blank. “Tell me what you want, Avi.”
“I want you to take care of it, Boss," he replies, his voice thick with need.
I kneel before him, my eyes locked on his. My hand circles his thick, hot shaft. “You'll only finish when I tell you to. You'll give me every drop, and you'll stay exactly as you are until I command you otherwise. Understand?”
"Yes, bro," he whispers, his eyes fluttering.
My mouth closes over him, this time with a definitive purpose. I draw him deep, working him with a rhythm that is both demanding and possessive. I use my hand to stroke and my tongue to tease, accelerating the pace until I feel the distinct tremors beginning in his core. His hips try to buck up, but his training holds him in place. He remains rigid, his hands still at his sides.
I pull back for a split second, my eyes wide and waiting. "Come for me, Avi. Give me your release."
His body locks up, shuddering violently. The sound that tears from him is primal, raw, and desperate: "Oh my God! Fuck YESH!" A thick, hot flood of semen fills my mouth. I keep my lips sealed around him, taking every pulse, every shuddering spasm of his release.
I pull away, swallowing every last drop. I look at him, his chest heaving, his body completely spent, yet still frozen in place. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, a dark smirk spreading across my face.
"Perfect. That’s what a good boy does for his master."
"Yeah, man. Much better," he murmurs, his eyes still dazed.
I stand up and grab his damp gym shorts. "Now, for the next instruction. Get dressed, Avi. But you will do so slowly, and you will not look at me."
He lifts his hips and slides the wet shorts up his legs with slow, mechanical movements. He is fully obedient, his movements economical, his eyes fixed blankly on the ceiling.
"Now, lie back and rest. Your mind is cleared, and your body is relaxed. You are mine, and I will be back for you shortly."
His eyes close as his body sinks back into the sofa cushions. The game is far from over, and I can’t wait to see what comes next.