The Hardy Boys and the Case of the Hypnotic Hijinks

The Hardy Boys and the Case of the Hypnotic Hijinks

by stimle@yahoo.com

Frank Hardy's class project debunking hypnosis takes an unexpectedly mesmerizing twist.

This is a work of fan fiction. The Hardy boys and their friends were created by Franklin W. Dixon and no copyright infringement is intended.

If you like these kinds of stories, please show your appreciation by making a donation to the Nifty Archive. Go to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

The story is told in alternating points of view from chapter to chapter.

CHAPTER 1 -- FRANK

"Woo hoo! Let's do this, O Mighty Mesmero!" Joe called out, his voice echoing throughout the house as he pounded down the stairs. Moments later he shot into the family room and dove onto the sofa. He was wearing nothing but white briefs and a towel slung around his neck.

"Put your pants on, Joe," I said, glancing up from my notes on my tablet to the bulge in my brother's briefs and... and for some reason I couldn't seem to take my eyes off it.

"Why?" he asked, sitting up and scratching his belly, oblivious to my gawking. "It's just us guys, bro. Mom and Aunt Trudy are at the church women's retreat until tomorrow and Dad doesn't care. In fact, I just saw him and he's in his underwear, too."

"Very funny, Joe," Dad said as he walked into the room. I looked up from where I was sitting on the loveseat, but contrary to what Joe claimed, Dad was not in his underwear; he was dressed in a crisp white Oxford and navy blue windowpane-print slacks. Very dapper looking. But then Dad always looked like he just stepped out of GQ.

"What're you working on, Frank?" Dad asked.

"My project for Psychology class."

"Yeah, it's about hypnosis and he wants to use me as a guinea pig," Joe said. "Newsflash, bro -- hypnosis is totally fake!"

"I agree," Dad said, "although I wouldn't put it as bluntly as you just did. You have to show a little tact, Joe."

"Didn't you get hypnotized once?" I asked.

"What?"

"Yeah, that's right," Joe said. "Aunt Trudy told us that Mom told her that she took you to a hypnotist act on your birthday one year and that you got hypnotized."

"Oh, your Mom told Aunt Trudy that, did she?" Dad laughed. "Well, it's true that we went to a hypnotist show and I went up on stage -- along with several other people -- but the hypnotist never put me under."

"How come?" Joe asked.

"Hypnosis is a lot about mind over matter," Dad explained, "and I guess my mind is just too strong."

"Why would Mom say that then?" I asked.

"I think your Mom was just pulling Aunt Trudy's leg," he said with a chuckle. "I know you boys were probably picturing me doing something goofy like dancing or clucking like a chicken--"

"Or getting spanked while in your underwear?" Joe quipped.

"Or... barking like a dog," Dad said, shooting Joe a pointed look. He winked at me and ruffled my hair. "Sorry, Sport. I don't mean to rain on your parade, but as much as it pains me to say this right now, I have to agree with your brother. I think hypnosis is fake."

"Oh, it's okay," I said with a shrug. "I don't believe in hypnosis either. I'm out to prove it's more the psychology of suggestibility."

"Such a nerd," Joe said, coughing into his hand as he picked lint from his belly button.

"That's a pretty novel take on it, Frank," Dad said thoughtfully as he sat on the arm of the loveseat and looked down at the screen of my tablet. "The psychology of suggestibility, huh? Interesting."

I nodded and as I looked up, my eyes zeroed in on the bulge in Dad's pants. The pattern on the pants he was wearing made his crotch look huge.

I blinked. What was going on? First Joe and now Dad? I glanced over at Joe; he was rubbing his flat belly now, his fingertips idly grazing the waistband of his briefs, as he examined something he'd just picked from his teeth. Dang, he really should put some pants on.

"Frank?" Dad was tapping my shoulder.

"Hmm-- what?" I said, looking up.

"I was saying that's an interesting way of looking at hypnosis and the whole concept of mind control."

"Nerd squared!" Joe coughed from the sofa.

"I take this very seriously," I said, slightly indignant.

"You're right, and I apologize," Dad said. He looked pointedly at Joe. "So does your brother, right Joe?"

"What?"

"Right, Joe?" Dad repeated.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry, bro!"

"Thanks. Danny and I have been working really hard on this."

"Danny Porter?" Joe asked.

"Yes."

"Geek alert!"

"Joe," Dad said in an exasperated tone.

"That's where you were last night?" Joe asked, ignoring Dad. "You stayed at Danny Porter's?"

"Yeah, and we were up half the night working on this and then again after breakfast, so I need you to--."

"Wait," Joe said, holding up his hand to stop me. "Let me get this straight: you stay up all night, on a Friday, and you study?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Bro. Really?"

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, Joe."

"That's enough, you two," Dad said, getting to his feet. "Play nice. I'm going to get some work done in my office."

"Okay, Dad." Joe turned to me. "How long is this gonna take and what do I have to do?"

"Well, it would be nice if you'd put some pants on."

"Ain't happening, bro. Get over it."

"Alright, bear with me a minute. It won't take too long. You'll be back to rotting your brain with Battlegrounds or Battle Royale or whatever it is you and Chet are playing this week."

"You're just jealous."

"And you call me a nerd," I laughed. "Okay, now. Here we go. Just relax, listen, and do as I say, okay?"

"Will do, Magoo!"

I started the induction Danny and I worked on, remembering to speak in precise, measured tones like we practiced. "Now, as you're sitting there listening to the sound of my voice, maybe you're wondering how it is that you're going to go into a trance. As you listen to these words, I want you to focus your gaze on an imaginary spot on the ceiling. Joe" -- I snapped my fingers -- "ceiling. That's good. In a few moments I'll begin counting. When I say the number one', I'd like you to close your eyes, and then on the number two', slowly open them. Continue to open and close your eyes on alternating numbers like that until your eyes feel so heavy that it'd be easier and more comfortable to just let them remain closed.

"Whether your eyes are open or closed, however, I'd like you to keep your focus on that spot on the ceiling. Don't lower your gaze during the numbers when your eyes are open. Keep your eyes fixed in position and imagine that you're still gazing at the spot."

"Ready?" Joe nodded. "Got your spot?" Another nod. "Okay."

"One: Close your eyes now but keep them in position.

"Two: Now slowly open them. Take a few deep breaths. Just keep breathing deeply. Listen to the sound of my voice.

"Three: Gently allow your eyelids to close and begin to allow yourself to relax, noticing how comfortable it feels to let them rest.

"Four: Now, slowly open them and continue to gaze at your spot on the ceiling. The longer you stare at it, the more your eyelids get heavy, and you blink, and there's a feeling like something is pulling them down, as if they want to slowly close, and as they get heavier you're finding yourself getting drowsier and sleepier.

"Five: Closing them easily and slowly as you listen to the sound of my voice, letting all your cares and worries go.

"Six: Slowly open them and... Seven: Closing them now, unwinding completely, letting go of any worries or problems that may have been on your mind lately, and very soon your eyelids will begin to feel very tired and heavy."

CHAPTER 2 -- JOE

And on Frank went. And on. And on. And on. Blah, blah, blah...The tempo of his voice slowed with each number and I sighed inwardly, bored, but still playing along.

"Twelve: Slowly opening them again now. Each time you open them it becomes more and more difficult.

"Thirteen: And let them close. Your eyelids are getting heavier and heavier, more and more tired with each number. That's fine. You'll feel your whole body sinking into the couch and you'll notice how relaxed your whole body has become from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Your eyelids have become very heavy, and as it becomes more comfortable to just keep them closed you can allow yourself to keep them closed now.

"Fourteen: Feel the heaviness in your eyelids as you open them now. Very, very hard to keep them open, feel that very soon they will close tightly, almost tightly closing, almost tightly closing, tightly closing."

I sighed and let my shoulders relax. If I just closed my eyes now and played along, this would go by much quicker.

"Seventeen: And closed. Your eyelids are so heavy now that as I continue to count it becomes increasingly difficult to open your eyes. Don't try to resist. Just feel their heaviness and when it's more comfortable to keep your eyes closed, keep them closed. Yes, that's it. Your eyes are tightly closed; you feel good; you feel comfortable; you're relaxed all over; just let yourself drift and enjoy this comfortable relaxed state. You'll find that your head will get heavier; tends to nod forward some, and you just let yourself drift in an easy, calm, relaxed state."

I sighed again. It should be okay to keep my eyes shut...

CHAPTER 3 -- FRANK

The higher I counted the faster my heart began to beat. Was this actually working or was Joe faking? His head was beginning to nod forward and it looked like he was really having trouble keeping his eyes open. I also noticed that every time he closed his eyes they stayed shut just a little bit longer before he opened them the next time.

When I reached number fourteen his shoulders visibly relaxed, and when I hit seventeen his head fell forward and his breathing was even and relaxed.

Did it work? No way! I leaned forward and stared at my brother, slumped back against the cushions, head pitched forward, utterly limp. Holy cow!

"Can you hear me, Joe?"

"Yes," he replied softly. I noticed a line of drool running from the corner of his mouth and pooling on the ridge of one of his abs. My eyes roamed down to the sizable lump in his tight white briefs and I remembered what he'd said to me when we were at the tuxedo fitting.

`Look at this monster.'

`Look at you and then look at me, bro.'

`This thing can poke an eye out.'

My tongue flicked out over my dry lips as I focused on the bulge in Joe's briefs. It looked huge. I don't know why I was so distracted by it. Maybe if I just touched it. Feel for myself how big it was. I gulped, took a deep breath, and reached my hand out to--

DING!

I squeaked and jumped about a foot. Holy crap! My phone dinged again and I slid it out of my pocket. I thumbed the volume switch off. Dang notifications!

I glanced back at Joe. He hadn't moved or even reacted, but how did I know he wasn't faking? It was totally something he would do. He'd been ribbing me ever since I started this project and if he was play-acting and I fell for it, he'd never let me live it down. And if he caught me copping a feel? Heck, he'd probably start calling me Bromo' or something equally ridiculously Joe-like', and he'd laugh while I died of shame every day.

But how to make sure he wasn't faking? Hmmm. "Raise your right arm," I commanded. He lifted his arm. "Touch your nose." He touched his nose.

Too basic.

"Open your eyes." He opened his eyes. They looked unfocused and blank. I waved my hand and they didn't move. Oh, if he was faking, he was good!

"Scratch your balls." He scratched his balls, my eyes widening as they shifted and rolled in his briefs. Okay, that was too easy: he was scratching his balls when we started this.

I gnawed my lower lip as I looked at my brother sitting blank-faced, arm raised, sitting on the couch in just his underwear. Ugh. This was so much easier when Danny and I talked about it.

I suddenly realized I was going about this all wrong. If the roles were reversed and I was the one pretending to be in a trance, what would Joe do?

WWJD? What-Would-Joe-Do?

Then it hit me -- of course! "Joe, bark like a dog."

<Woof! Woof!>

Okay, okay, maybe too easy.

"Get down on all fours."

<Woof! Woof!>

He got down on all fours.

Hmm... Maybe. "Wag your tail like a puppy." Joe began to wiggle his butt, barking excitedly as his body swayed back and forth.

<Woof! Woof!>

His tongue lolled out between yaps, panting as he shook his head, and I found myself staring at his butt, so round and perfectly curved in those tight white briefs.

Then, and I don't know why -- probably because Joe's pretty persistent and I needed to be sure he wasn't faking -- I said, "Whenever you wiggle your butt you're going to get an erection."

<Woof! Woof!>

I bent over so I could look between Joe's legs. Sure enough, he had a boner. Okay, to be fair though, Joe always had a boner these days. But still...

<Woof! Woof!>

Okay... what else? I thought a few seconds and then I said, "Come sniff my butt, like a dog."

<Woof! Woof!>

I was laughing as Joe crawled toward me, waggling his butt and panting. He looked hilarious and I pulled my phone out and snapped a few pictures. Surely if he was faking, he'd object to being photographed, and if not, then he had less shame than I thought.

He was just a few feet away when I realized that, faking or not, I didn't want anybody sniffing my butt! "Joe, stop," I said. He stopped and looked up at me, tongue out, and panting. It was adorable and I took another picture.

<Woof! Woof!>

"Um... Joe, roll over. On your back."

<Woof! Woof!>

He immediately rolled over, elbows bent and his hands up like paws. His feet were on the floor and his knees were bent and spread wide, displaying the full crotch of his tented briefs. For some reason I reached down to scratch his belly, and as my hand scritched, moving lower and lower to the waistband of his briefs and his boner tenting the damp white cotton, something touched my butt and I jumped. What the heck? I turned--

"DAD?!"

CHAPTER 4 -- DAD

I could hear Frank's voice drifting down the hall into my office and I listened as he explained to Joe what he would be doing. His approach to his class project was impressive and I thought about how proud I was of him and of how hard he'd worked all year. I stood to close my door just as he began his countdown, but my curiosity got the better of me and I edged into the hall.

His voice had taken on a silky, mesmerizing cadence, almost fading into the quiet drone of the air-conditioning, and I stepped quietly closer to the family room so I could listen.

"Three: Gently allow your eyelids to close and begin to allow yourself to relax, noticing how comfortable it feels to let them rest."

His voice was so low I had to focus intently to avoid missing the instructions I'm sure he was expecting Joe to follow.

"Four: Now, slowly open them and continue to gaze at your spot on the ceiling. The longer you stare at it, the more your eyelids get heavy, and you blink, and there's a feeling like something is pulling them down, as if they want to slowly close, and as they get heavier you're finding yourself getting drowsier and sleepier.

"Five: Closing them easily and slowly as you listen to the sound of my voice, letting all your cares and worries go."

Oh wow, he's good, I thought as I sank into a side chair on the other side of the room so I could observe without being a distraction. If I'm not careful I might slip into a hypnotic trance for real!

It actually reminded me of the hypnotist show the boys talked about earlier. I was attending a conference on private investigation in Atlantic City and because it coincided with my birthday -- my fortieth -- Laura decided to come along and we stayed a few extra days to celebrate. We'd considered bringing the boys, but they were working on a case so we left them with Trudy.

The hotel comped us a pair of tickets to the show the night of my birthday, and since our dinner reservation was at 8:00 and the show didn't start until 10:00, we had plenty of time to enjoy a leisurely meal.

We had a glass of wine at the bar while we waited for our table, and when our waiter learned it was my birthday, the manager sent over a bottle of champagne. At the hypnotist show each party celebrating a birthday was also given a complimentary bottle of champagne, and when the hypnotist asked for volunteers from the audience to be part of the act, I readily agreed, being more than a little buzzed at that point.

The hypnotist's induction was similar to the one Frank was taking Joe through right now. Even though I don't recall much of the show from that night, it wasn't because I was hypnotized -- the induction hadn't worked on me -- but rather it was due to the amount of champagne I'd drank. Of course, that wasn't something I was about to mention to the boys. If they knew alcohol had been involved there'd be no living with them, Joe especially, who still smirks and makes private cracks about how I showed up drunk to a fitting at the tailor's a few weeks ago.

I still can't believe that happened. I'd had lunch with a client who kept insisting on toasting our new business arrangement and one drink let to another and another and, well, most of the afternoon from that point on is a blur, but it ended with me somehow across Joe's lap with my pants down and my butt getting royally paddled.

Which has now become fodder for Joe. Over the past couple of weeks I've begun to see a more brash, almost brazen, side to him, and he's even taken to making cracks like the one he made earlier about me being in my underwear. In fact, just the other night while I was spotting Frank on the weight bench, he yanked my shorts to my ankles, cackling as I stood exposed in my white briefs. I did my best to take it in stride, but now he's started to snap the elastic of my waistband whenever I lean over, and yesterday he even gave me a wedgie in front of Frank. I'm ready to have a little talk with that boy to show him who's boss.

Anyway, me being hypnotized was a bust, but Laura said she had a great time. When we were leaving the show, a couple of older women whistled at me and complimented my backside. One of them was humming `Old Time Rock and Roll' but the reference was lost on me. When I asked Laura about it, she just grinned and shrugged.

"Six: Slowly open, and..."

Each time I opened my eyes the ceiling above seemed to lose a little bit of focus, but I figured it was the light filtering through from outside. If I wasn't supposed to be focusing on Frank's voice...

"Nine: Closing down now, and very soon your eyelids will begin to feel very tired and heavy."

I decided to close my eyes. I didn't feel like craning my neck by looking up at the ceiling, and the dappled sunlight flickering through the windows was really starting to bother my eyes.

"Eleven: More and more heavy with each number now, that's fine. Heavier and heavier. More and more relaxed as your eyes begin to feel so tired. And you have a feeling as if they were slowly closing, slowly closing, getting drowsier and more tired, and when they finally do close, how good you'll feel."

And... without realizing it, I'd slipped right into a hypnotic trance for real.

CHAPTER 5 -- FRANK

"Danny!" I gasped into the phone when he finally answered. "It worked! I can't believe it. It worked!"

"Ha! Ha! Very funny, Frank," Danny said. "Nice try."

"No!" I insisted, shaking my head, even though he couldn't see me. "I'm not kidding. It worked!"

"You're serious? You hypnotized Joe?"

"Yes! And--" Dad's nose bumped my butt again and I jumped. "Dad, sit! Stop! A-and my dad!"

"Your dad?" Danny asked. I could hear the skepticism in his voice. "Really? How?"

"I don't know. He must've overheard. He was in his office working and it's just off the family room."

"Wow, they were that suggestible? But how do you know they're under?"

"I don't know for sure," I said. "I thought Joe might be faking so--"

"Why would Joe fake it?"

"So he could razz me about it later, of course," I said as if it should've been totally obvious. "It's exactly something he'd do."

"What did you do to make sure he wasn't faking?"

"I had him start barking like a dog."

"What?"

"Yeah, it's something he and Dad were teasing me about, earlier, so I told him to get down on all fours, wag his tail, and bark like a dog."

"Wag his tail?"

"Yeah," I giggled. "He wiggled his butt--"

"Hahahaha!! Omigod, that's awesome! But you think he might be faking?"

I nodded. "Uh-huh, so I told him to sniff my butt--"

"What?! You told him to--and did he?"

"I think he was about to," I said, "but then I chickened out and told him to stop and roll over, and... well, that's when my dad sniffed my butt."

"What? How? How didn't you hear him barking?"

"I thought about that," I said, running my hand through my hair as I began to pace back and forth, "and I'm pretty sure I said Joe' before a few of those commands. You know, kind of like when you play Simon Says.' `Joe, bark like a dog'" --

<Woof! Woof!>

-- "and `Joe, roll over.'"

Danny was laughing.

"What? What's so funny?"

<Woof! Woof!>

Danny snorted, "Because I can hear Joe barking and I'm imagining him rolling over, and now your dad is sniffing your butt?!"

"I know," I groaned, sinking onto the loveseat.

"Show me."

"What?"

"Show me," Danny repeated. "Take a picture."

"I dunno if I should."

"Oh relax, Frank," Danny said. "Take a picture and show me."

I snapped a couple of pictures of Dad and Joe and texted them to Danny.

<Woof! Woof!>

"Whoa," he said. "You told Joe to take his clothes off?"

"What? No! He -- that's what he was wearing when we started."

"So, now you think your dad might be faking, too?"

"He might be," I said. "I mean, it's possible." I thought about how sometimes Dad and Joe got all goofy and stuff, like they were sharing a brain (Joe's brain). "I just wish there was a way to be sure."

"There might be," Danny said slowly.

"Really? How?" I asked, running my fingers through my hair again. "You mean a test?"

"Something like that," Danny said. "Tell me, who's home right now?"

"Just me, Joe and my Dad. My mom and Aunt Trudy are at a women's retreat for church. They won't be back until tomorrow."

Danny chuckled. "Relax, Frank."

I took a deep breath.

"Tell Joe to bark and play with himself."

"What?"

"You heard me," Danny said. "Tell him to bark and play with himself."

"I-I don't know, Danny," I stammered.

"Relax, Frank," Danny said again. "If he's faking, he won't do it. Well, unless he's totally committed."

"Oh, I see you've met my brother." I snarked as I walked over to Joe and bent down. "Joe, play with yourself and bark."

<Woof! Woof!>

Joe lowered his `paws' and started to rub himself through his briefs.

<Woof! Woof!>

"What's he doing?" Danny asked.

"He's rubbing himself."

"Okay, tell him to play with his nipples and his dick."

"What?"

"Just tell him," Danny said, more firmly.

I cleared my throat. "Joe," I said, "um, play with your nipples and your, um, your--"

"It's called a dick, Frank. Say it."

"Um, play with your nipples and your, um--"

"Relax, Frank," Danny said. "Tell Joe to play with his nipples and dick."

"Joe, play with your nipples and dick."

<Woof! Woof!>

Joe began to pinch and roll his nipples between the index finger and thumb of his left hand while he grabbed his erect shaft with his right hand and began to squeeze and jerk it through his briefs.

"Tell him he's not allowed to cum," Danny said.

"Ew, that's--"

"Tell him, Frank."

"Joe, hey," I said, placing my hand on the one he was working his erection with, "no cumming, you understand? No cumming, bro."

<Woof! Woof!>

"No cumming, bro," Joe said.

<Woof! Woof!>

"No cumming!"

"Okay," I said. "Now what?"

"Now your dad. Tell him to strip to his underwear."

"Whoa, what?"

"Tell your dad to strip to his underwear," Danny repeated. "If he's faking it, he's probably not going to drop trou in front of you."

I nodded. "Okay, that makes sense," I said, even as visions of Dad pulling his pants down at the tailor shop and getting spanked by Joe played over and over in my head. "Dad, can you hear me?"

"Yes," Dad replied in a monotone, his face blank and his eyes staring straight ahead.

"Strip to your underwear."

Dad stood up and slipped out of his black patent leather monk strap shoes.

"Like a Chippendale!" Danny added.

"Like a-- Wait. Dad, stop," I said as Dad's hands moved to his belt. "What's a Chippendale?" I whispered into the phone.

"A male dancer," Danny explained. "You know, like a male stripper. Have your dad do a striptease."

"A striptease?! A male stripper?"

"Oh, my God," Danny said, a note of exasperation in his voice. "I forgot... Magic Mike."

"Magic Mike?"

"Yeah, the movie."

"Oh, the movie," I said. "Yeah, I remember Mom dragged him to see it."

"Cool. Tell him."

"Dad, do you remember the movie `Magic Mike'?"

"Yes," Dad said.

"He remembers," I relayed to Danny.

"Cool, now tell him to dance the way they did in `Magic Mike' and I'll be over in a few minutes."

"Okay," I said. "See you in a few."

I ended the call and turned to my dad. "Hey Dad," I said, "d-dance the way they did in `Magic Mike.'"

I set my phone down and watched nervously, a big dumb grin on my face, as Dad began to dance.

Now, I don't claim to be a good dancer (that's Joe's gig), but Dad was surprisingly... terrible! For somebody so suave and debonaire in every aspect of life, he had two left feet. His movements were jerky and stilted, and I wondered what music was playing in his head.

Usually Dad wears a t-shirt, but he wasn't today, and as he unbuttoned his white shirt, the broad, tanned planes of his lightly haired chest came into view, revealing sculpted pectoral muscles and brown nipples that stuck out like pencil erasers.

He'd neglected to unbutton the cuffs, so as he slid the shirt down over his toned biceps and off, it got stuck on his wrists and I could barely contain my laughter as his body twisted and contorted in a valiant attempt to disentangle himself from the garment. Finally free of it, he grinned broadly at me as he awkwardly whirled it over his head before tossing it toward me. Another big miss.

Then, in a move right out of the `Joe Hardy: Teen Stud' handbook, Dad started flexing his biceps and making his pecs bounce. What the heck? I bet he and Joe practice this move together!

I was still gawking at his pecs when he whipped his belt off and let it drop to the floor with a thunk. He undid the button on his slacks and teased the zipper up and down, flashing the gleaming white of his underwear and winking as his hips thrust and gyrated like an out-of-balance washing machine. This was just horrible.

Then he turned his back and dropped his pants, letting them puddle around his ankles. He was wearing the white designer briefs he always does and when he bent down to touch his toes -- oh, my God, what was he doing that for?! -- the cotton fabric stretched so tautly across his firm, rounded butt that it looked like a second skin and I swear I could see the dark line of hair in his crease. He stood back up, winked at me over his shoulder, and began to wiggle his butt as he awkwardly stepped out of his pants, arms flailing to keep his balance.

When he turned to face me, his hips still swiveling and thrusting to whatever god-awful music was playing in his head, I could see the outline of a very evident erection in his briefs. It jutted up and to the left, and from where I was standing, the soft-looking white cotton looked barely able to contain it. My eyes bugged out and my own briefs suddenly felt very small.

What the heck?! Eyes up, Frank! Eyes up!

He tossed his pants to me and I caught them as he slithered up to where I stood, frozen in place. He put his hands on my shoulders and eased me down onto the arm of the sofa. He began to gyrate his pelvis just inches from my face, running his hands over his hips, thighs and buttocks, as the prominent ridge in his briefs bumped repeatedly against my nose and brushed against my parted lips. I thought he was going to crawl right onto my lap!

"Dad, stop!" I cried out. "You're gonna make me--"

"No cumming, bro!" Joe cried out.

<Woof! Woof!>

"No cumming!"

CHAPTER 6 -- JOE

"Can you hear me, Joe?" Frank asked.

"Yes," I replied. Whoa... WHOA! Am I hypnotized? Did it work?

"Raise your right arm," Frank instructed.

Okay, that's so chee--Wait, why is my arm going up? Oh my gosh! Bro!

"Touch your nose."

Don't do it. Don'--What the heck?

"Open your eyes. Scratch your balls."

Um, scratch my balls? Does that even count if I already was? Oh my gosh, I'm hypnotized! It worked!

"Joe, bark like a dog."

Are you kidding, bro? That's the dumbest thing ever. No way am I--

<Woof! Woof!>

Oh heck!

"Get down on all fours."

Are you serious?

<Woof! Woof!>

Oh my gosh! I should be upset but I'm weirdly chill.

"Wag your tail like a puppy."

Okay, why is my whole butt wiggling?

<Woof! Woof!>

This is ridiculous!

"Whenever you wiggle your butt you're going to get an erection."

Wait a second, are you serious, Frank? You're a perv!

<Woof! Woof!>

"Comes sniff my butt like a dog."

Bro, SUCH a perv!

<Woof! Woof!>

Hee hee, but that's something I'd totally make you do!

"Joe, stop...Um... Joe, roll over. On your back."

<Woof! Woof!>

Oh my gosh, he's scratching my belly. Oh, that feels kind of nice. Oh yeah... Oh, wait now... Uh, Frank? What's your hand doing? Why is it moving lower? You're gonna -- oh, OH! Ohhhhh...bro! That feels kinda good!

"DAD?!"

Wait, I can't see. What's Dad doing?

<Woof! Woof!>

Okay, Frank's on the phone with Danny and he's got this weird look on his face and... did he just take a picture of me! Bro, so not cool! I've got a boner here!

"Oh, I see you've met my brother," Frank said as he bent down next to me. "Joe, play with yourself and bark."

<Woof! Woof!>

Oh my gosh, you ARE a perv. I love it! But wait, this is wrong. I shouldn't be -- Oh... Oh! This feels... OH!

"He's rubbing himself."

Of course I'm rubbing myself, you perv! You hypnotized me and made me do-- ohhhhh!!!

"Joe," Frank stammered, "um, play with your nipples and your, um, your -- Um, play with your nipples and your, um -- Joe, play with your nipples and dick."

<Woof! Woof!>

OH! OH! OH! Oh my gosh, it feels so good to touch myself like this. They used to tell us in church camp that masturbation is a sin, but this feels great. Oh, I'm so hard! I'm... ungh, oooohhh!!! If I keep this up, I'm gonna cu--

"Joe, hey," Frank said, putting his hand over mine, "no cumming, you understand? No cumming, bro."

<Woof! Woof!>

"No cumming, bro."

<Woof! Woof!>

But bro, I gotta cum! I gotta cum!

<Woof! Woof!>

"No cumming!"

CHAPTER 7 -- DAD

"Dad, can you hear me?"

"Yes," I replied. My voice sounded far away in my head. What was going on? The last thing I remember was sitting down and listening to-- Wait, am I hypnotized?!

"Strip to your underwear."

What? Strip? Even as my mind questioned the command, I was toeing off my slip-ons. I reached for my belt when Frank continued, "Wait. Dad, stop."

A Chippendale? A striptease?! A male stripper?

"Dad," Frank asked, "do you remember the movie `Magic Mike'?"

"Yes."

"He remembers... Okay... See you in a few."

Frank put his phone down and turned to me. "Hey Dad, d-dance the way they did in `Magic Mike.'"

Oh my gosh! That movie... some of those scenes... there was no way -- but I was already unbuttoning my shirt and moving my hips the way I remember the lead actor in the movie doing. As I imitated him the best I could, the way his body swayed and how his hips gyrated as he effortlessly stripped, a lost fragment of memory slipped into my hypnotized state.

It was my birthday and my new partner, Sam McDermott, had taken me out to celebrate. We'd had dinner and several rounds of drinks with a bunch of the detectives and uniforms from the station and I was ready to call it a night. In fact, most of the guys had already headed home to their girlfriends, wives, and families, but Sam was still raring to go and dragged me along. I don't know how he always got me to drink so much, but once again, my partner exploited my inexperience with alcohol, and I found myself in a private room at some dance club with yet another cocktail in my hand.

"That's it, birthday boy, drink up!" Sam said as he gently wrested the glass from my hand and held it to my lips. "Down the hatch, partner."

I looked at him and smiled through bleary eyes as I gulped the drink -- something tart and bitter -- as a tall, handsome man entered the room and stood in front of me.

"Did you put anything in that?" he asked.

"Like I need to," Sam laughed. "Fenton's a total lightweight. Probably doesn't even know his name right now."

"Oh, Fenton," the man said, putting his finger under my chin and lifting my head. I stared up at his naked, oiled chest. "I remember him now -- your partner, right?"

"The very one," Sam said.

"You brought him here after he got drunk at your tailor, right?" Sam nodded. "And this is one of the suits he ordered?" Another nod. "Very nice," the man said. "He wears it well."

"Yes, he does," Sam agreed. "Speaking of, we should probably get him out of it so he doesn't get it dirty."

I felt my belt being unbuckled and then the button and fly of my suit pants were undone. My pants were tugged down over my butt and down my legs at the same time my shirt was unbuttoned and slid over my broad shoulders. Then my t-shirt was pulled up over my head and suddenly I was in nothing but my tight white briefs and black over the calf socks.

"Fuck, but he's hot," the man said as he put his hands on my shoulders and eased me down to my knees in front of him. "You sure he's okay?"

"Oh yeah, don't worry about Hardy," Sam said as he stuffed a couple of twenty-dollar bills into the waistband of the man's pants. "He's good to go. Just like last time."

Just like last time? What was he talking about? I tried to recall but just then music began to play, the man started to move, and suddenly I found it hard to think.

As I watched him move, his body swaying and undulating to the music, it seemed as if he was directing my focus from his chest on down his torso. He performed a slow body roll that led my eyes right down to his hips, which he began to slowly grind in a circular movement, and I felt myself push my hips forward, almost as if I was on autopilot, as I went erect in my briefs.

His flexibility was amazing and as his hips thrust and gyrated, he began to strip his clothes off, one piece at a time, until he was down to just a gold G-string that barely covered his burgeoning erection.

I blinked up at him as that golden rod slid across my face. I closed my eyes and, with parted lips, nuzzled it with my nose, cheek and chin. When I felt something wet on my cheek, I pulled back and opened my eyes to discover he'd freed his hard penis from its shiny golden confines and was holding it just inches from my lips.

I gasped as he then thrust it into my mouth and I instinctively wrapped my lips around it. "Mmmmfff."

"That's right, Hardy," Sam encouraged, running his fingers through my hair. "Just like last time. You know what to do."

I reached around, grabbed the man's buttocks and pulled him closer. His thick erection lodged in my throat as my nose burrowed into his lush pubic nest.

"Your friend really does love cock," the man said as he pulled back, allowing me to bob up and down on his shaft.

"Yeah, he just doesn't know it yet." I felt cool air on my butt, and as my freed erection slapped against my taut belly, I realized that Sam had lowered my briefs.

"Oh yeah," I moaned as I slurped the penis in my mouth. Sam begin to jerk my length and I lost it.

"Oh... oh... OHHHH!!!"

"Dad, stop!" Frank cried out. "You're gonna make me--"

CHAPTER 8 -- FRANK

"Man, am I glad you're here," I said when I opened the door to Danny. "I'm about to freak out! Come on in, they're in here."

"Is you dad still dancing?" Danny asked, his warm brown eyes twinkling as he ran long, delicate fingers through his shaggy dark brown hair.

"Oh my gosh, no!" I said, shivering as I remembered Dad and his thrusting hips and the look of lust on his face as he-- "I thought he was going to crawl in my lap."

"Aw, why did you tell him to stop?" Danny asked as he followed me down the hall to the family room where I left Joe and Dad.

"Ew, Danny!"

"I'm kidding, Frank," he said. "What did you do?"

"I, um, I told him to roll over like Joe and bark," I said as we reached the family room and I pointed to where Dad was lying next to Joe. They were both on their backs with their knees bent, legs spread wide, and feet planted flat on the floor.

<Arf! Arf!>

<Woof! Woof!>

Dad barked again and then panted, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. His erection tented the front of his white designer briefs, and as he wiggled his butt, his fat balls jiggled and bounced in the pouch. I felt my mouth go dry.

<Arf! Arf!>

Next to him, Joe was still playing with himself, cooing and moaning in between barks as he rubbed his erection through his briefs. There was a wet spot on his underwear where the tip of his erect penis was pressing against the soft cotton.

<Woof! Woof!>

Danny tossed his backpack onto the sofa and bent over, hands on his knees, to get a closer look. I found myself drawn to the curve of his butt in his snug, faded jeans. "Wow, you weren't kidding," he said, getting down on his knees, cupping Joe's balls with one hand while he patted his butt with the other. "Good puppy," he said.

<Woof! Woof!>

"No cumming, bro," Joe said, panting as Danny rubbed his bulge.

"That's right, Joe," Danny chuckled as he tugged on Joe's balls and snapped the elastic leg band of my brother's briefs. "No cumming."

<Woof! Woof!>

"What're you doing, Danny?" I asked, shocked that he was touching Joe like that.

"Oh my gosh," Danny exclaimed, ignoring me as he grabbed my brother's erection through his briefs. Joe panted harder. "This is awesome, I'm stoked it worked." He then reached over to Dad and did the same thing, giving Dad's erection a couple of jerks!

<Arf! Arf!>

"Frank, dude! I knew Joe was hot, but damn," -- he rubbed Dad's bulging crotch with both hands, and my jaw dropped as I watched his fat balls roll and undulate beneath the tight white cotton -- "look at your dad and his fucking huge package! Hello, hot daddy!"

<Arf! Arf!>

`Hot daddy'? What the-- "Stop that, Danny," I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from Dad. "What're you doing?"

"Relax, Frank."

"What're you--"

"Relax, Frank," he repeated.

I felt my mind slip sideways and I blinked, staring at Danny as he rose to his feet.

"That's good, Frank," he said, and as he looked into my eyes, my head began to feel light and spacey. "Just relax," he continued. "That's right. You don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?" Was there an echo in here?

"I hypnotized you."

"You hypnotized me?" I was confused. "When?"

"Last night, when we were studying," he explained, not looking away. "I told you I had something in my eye and then I hypnotized you."

Something about what he was saying sounded vaguely familiar and I thought back to the night before. We were up in Danny's room working on the project when he turned to me...

"Frank, hey, I think I got something in my eye. It hurts and I can barely open it. Can you take a look?"

"I don't see anything."

"Really? Because it hurts like a son of a gun. Can you take another look? Please? Deeper. Just look into my eyes."

"Okay."

"That's it. Just keep looking. You might not see it at first, but if you concentrate, I bet you'll see it."

"I don't see--"

"You've gotta keep looking."

"I don't see anything, Danny."

"No, keep looking, Frank. Just keep looking. That's right. Keep looking. Deeper. As you keep looking, you start to realize how soothing it is to look into my eyes."

"I still--"

"No, Frank. Keep looking. Keep looking. Look into my eyes."

"Look into your eyes."

"That's right: just look into my eyes. It's feels good to look into my eyes."

"Feels good to look into your eyes."

"Yes, keep watching. You feel so mellow. So relaxed. Very relaxed. My eyes make you feel so relaxed. It's so relaxing to look into my eyes. And as you relax, you start to feel drowsy. Soooo sleepy. You feel so tired now, like you're in a warm bed and ready to fall into a deep, deep sleep..."

"Now do you remember, Frank?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes..." My voice sounded thick and sluggish as I felt myself being pulled back to the present. Danny hypnotized me? But why? As one of Bayport's Foremost Amateur Sleuths with years of experience spotting clues, I certainly hadn't seen this coming!

"How do you feel?"

"Relaxed."

"That's good, Frank," he said, gently rubbing my arm. "Now look. Look at your dad and your brother. Focus on their crotches. Feel how drawn you are to them.

My breath caught and I felt my heart beat quicker. I looked at Dad and Joe sprawled out in their tight white briefs and suddenly my own briefs felt two sizes too small.

"That's right," Danny said, still stroking my arm. "Take a good long look at them. See how they're dressed?" I nodded, my eyes going back and forth between the bulges in their briefs. "Now go ahead and look at how you're dressed."

I looked down at my t-shirt and jeans and then up at Danny. "One of these things is not like the other," he said as he took my hand and led me to the center of the room. I felt lethargic as I followed him, like I was wading through a field of peanut butter. He turned me to face Joe and Dad and then got behind me. "Strip, Frank."

Strip? I turned my head and looked at him. "Upsy-daisy," he said, lifting my arms before he pulled my shirt up and over my head.

"Now your pants," he said, popping the button on my jeans and easing the fly down over the swell in my briefs. He spread the flaps out to reveal the white cotton of my underwear stretched tautly over my erection. "Oh, you're so hard, Frank," he observed as he pushed my jeans down to my ankles. "Just like last night."

Just like last night? I must've had a confused look on my face because he nodded. "Yes, Frank," he continued as he ran his hand up the back of my leg and over the curve of my butt, "just like last night. Remember? How did it go again? That's right, `stroke it, stroke it, stroke it--'"

"--and pump, pump, pump," I picked up as I stood in front of Joe and my Dad, my hand automatically moving to the erection in my briefs. "Stroke it, stroke it, stroke it... and wait, wait, wait."

Danny kept one hand on my butt and began to play with my nipple as I continued to chant and rub myself. "Stroke it, stroke it, stroke it..." When Joe suddenly joined in, Danny jumped almost a foot straight into the air.

"What the fuck?!" he exclaimed, his head whipping back and forth between me and Joe. "Say it isn't so, a Hardy Boys circle jerk? Holy shit!"

<Woof! Woof!>

"No cumming, bro!"

I started to tug on my balls as I continued to jerk my shaft. Danny slipped my shoes off and helped me step out of my jeans before guiding me to the long sofa and telling me to sit down. Then he told Dad and Joe to get up off the floor and sit next to me. He put Dad in the middle with Joe and me on either side.

He stepped back and looked at the three of us: me fondling myself and chanting, Joe chanting along with me, and Dad, staring blank-faced straight ahead. "I can't believe how easily you all went under," he said as he leaned forward, eyes darting from me to Dad and then to Joe, "but before we continue, I'm going to deepen your trance. Just sit and listen.

"I want you to imagine being at the top of a spiral staircase and there are only ten steps until you reach the bottom. I'm going to count down from ten to zero, with each number being one step. Every step you take down you'll find your body relaxing more and more as I guide you into a deep and comfortable trance. At the bottom of the stairs is a large bed with a very comfortable pillow.

"The moment I say the number ten you will allow your eyelids to remain closed and, in your mind's eye, see yourself on the top step. When I say the number nine and each additional number, you'll move down those stairs, going twice as deep into trance and you'll find yourself relaxing more completely with each step. When I reach number one, you'll sink into that bed and rest your head on that pillow. When I reach zero, you'll be in a very deep and relaxing trance and your mind will be open to whatever my voice commands.

"Ten: Eyes closed at the top of those stairs...

"Nine: Relaxing and letting go...

"Eight: That's right. Just relax as you sink into a more comfortable, calm, peaceful trance...

"Seven: It feels so good to relax...

"Six: Feel yourself going deeper as you relax... going way down...

"Five: Moving down those stairs, relaxing more completely, deeper and deeper as the relaxation grows...

"Four: More relaxing and even deeper...

"Three: Breathe in deeply... you're almost there...

"Two: So relaxed... On the next number, number one, you'll sink into that bed, becoming more calm, more peaceful, more relaxed ...

"One: Sinking into that comfortable bed, every muscle limp and loose as you sink into a more calm, peaceful state of relaxation.

"Zero: Sleep.

"Good. You can open your eyes now but you're all still deeply asleep and relaxed. However, you can hear and understand everything I'm about to say, especially all the trigger words and phrases I'm going to program into you. And when you wake up, you'll forget that you were ever hypnotized. You'll forget I was ever here. You'll believe the project didn't work on you. Everything that's happened so far, and everything that is going to happen, will seem like a dream: fleeting, flickering, and gone in mere moments, but leaving you content and relaxed and feeling like you had a good time, even if you can't quite remember what happened."

CHAPTER 9 -- DAD

"Stroke it, stroke it, stroke it... and pump, pump, pump," I intoned robotically as I pulled my erection from the confines of my tight white briefs and tucked the elastic waistband under my balls, spread my legs, and wrapped my hand around my throbbing, pulsing shaft. "Stroke it, stroke it, stroke it... and wait, wait, wait--"

As I watched my hand slide up and down over my red, swollen penis and felt it twitch in my grasp as the blood coursed through it, part of me recognized something wasn't right. Why was I sitting in my cum-soaked underwear with my sons, masturbating in front of them and one of their friends? Why-- "and pump, pump, pump. And stroke it, stroke it..."

"That's right, Mr. Hardy," Danny Porter whispered into my ear as he pressed his body close to mine. "Just like before." He was cupping my balls, gently squeezing them as I worked my fisted palm up and down the length of my slick erection. "Just relax. Come on, guys," he said to Frank and Joe, "encourage your dad."

"Come on Dad," Frank said from my left as he chanted along with me.

"Nggghhh..." I moaned as I arched my back and ground my butt into the cushion. "Stroke it, stroke, it, ooooh... ohhhh..."

"That's good, Mr. Hardy," Danny continued to urge me. "See how good it feels? Just let go and stroke it, stroke it, stroke it, and pump, pump, pump. That's right. Stroke it, stroke it, stroke it... and wait, wait, wait."

"Yeah, Dad, stroke it!" Joe urged from somewhere to my right. I pulled my eyes from my thick erection and looked to where Joe was standing, rubbing the big bulge between his legs. My eyes widened.

"Yes," Danny encouraged. "Look how big Joe is. No, don't look away -- that's right, keep stroking, Mr. Hardy. That's right."

Danny moved behind Joe as I continued to masturbate, my eyes never leaving the massive bulge in his tight white briefs. "Come on, Joe," he said, placing his hands on Joe's hips. "Move these hips. Shake that ass."

I don't know what music started to play in Joe's head, but his body began to move and sway and I found myself mesmerized, my eyes riveted to his swiveling hips.

"That's right, Mr. Hardy," Danny whispered into my ear, suddenly behind me. "You can't take your eyes off it. Just relax, and as you stroke it, stroke it, stroke it, you realize just how drawn to it you are."

I heard a low murmuring next to me and realized it was Frank. He was moaning, "stroke it, stroke it, stroke it," along with me, and from the corner of my eye, I could see that he'd taken his penis out of his briefs as well and was matching me stroke for stroke.

"See, Mr. Hardy? Frank's drawn to it too. He can't take his eyes off it either." I wanted to look, but my eyes were fixed solidly on Joe and the way he was lewdly palming and squeezing his erection as he continued to thrust his pelvis and roll his hips. "You're drawn to it the same way Frank is drawn to it."

I opened my mouth to protest -- to object -- but I realized he was right. I was drawn to it. I felt parched and I licked my lips and shook my head as if I could clear the cobwebs in my brain.

"Keep stroking, Mr. Hardy," Danny urged. "That's right. Good, very good. As you stroke you realize how you want to be submissive to both your boys. How you want to be dominated by them. The idea of being submissive and dominated by another male makes your cock so hard. Just like it is now. So hard. That's right, you just want to stroke it, stroke it, stroke it."

"Yes," I mumbled as I stroked faster and faster, the need to reach release pulsing through me, rushing, rushing, rushing. "Stroke it, stroke it, stroke it... submit, submit, submit..." I moaned, my voice sounding needy to my ears. "Want to be dominated... want to be submissive..." -- stroke, pump, stroke, pump -- "so good, so good, sooo gooood" -- I tucked by erection into my briefs -- "so... oh... so... OH!! So -- so -- so -- I -- I -- I'm cumming! I'm cumming! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!!!"

I arched my back and thrashed my head from side to side as I pumped yet another load of cum into my briefs. How many was this now -- two, three? Four?

"That's great, Mr. Hardy," Danny said enthusiastically. "Relax and sleep now."

As my eyes slid shut and my mind began to shut down, I heard Danny say to Frank, "Your turn now, Frank... That's right... Stroke it, stroke it, stroke it..."

CHAPTER 10 -- JOE

"Hey, what's going on?" I asked, blinking up from where I was sitting on my haunches between Danny's outstretched legs. I looked to my side and saw Dad sprawled out on his big Chesterfield chair wearing nothing but his white designer briefs, head lolled to the side, and his eyes glazed over and rolled up. His eyelids were fluttering and he had a goofy grin plastered across his face as Frank, down on all fours and also in just his underwear, nuzzled his bulge with his nose!

What the heck?! I did a double take. "Dad? Frank? What's going on?!"

Neither responded. Frank just burrowed his face in deeper, rooting between Dad's widespread legs like a puppy, his butt wiggling back and forth as Dad moaned and thrust his hips up.

This was completely heinous and I tried again: "Frank? Dad?"

"They can't hear you," Danny said.

"What? What do you mean? What's wrong with them?" I started to stand but Danny placed his hand on my shoulder.

"Relax, Joe," he said, leaning forward. "They can't hear you." - he put his hand up to his mouth and stage whispered - "They're hypnotized."

"They're what?" I asked, but I was only half-listening. My eyes felt somehow drawn to Frank and Dad and the bulges in their underwear.

"They're hypnotized," Danny repeated, as he cupped me through my tight white briefs.

"But hypnosis is fake."

"That's what Frank said too... before I hypnotized him and, well," - he pointed to my left - "see for yourself."

I looked over at Frank who was now up on the chair and straddling Dad, who was splayed out beneath him, legs up and spread apart, moaning as Frank waggled his butt in his face while nuzzling his own deep into Dad's bulging crotch.

His bulging... Why was I feeling so drawn ... I shook my head. "But why?" I asked, as Danny gently squeezed my balls.

"We were working on the project, going over our notes and research," he said as he stroked his thumb over the tip of my erection, "and Frank was insisting that hypnosis was all about being suggestible and that only those with weak minds could ever be susceptible and -- well, you know how Frank gets." I wanted to nod because that's how I felt about Frank sometimes too, but hearing it from Danny like this -- and seeing what he was making Frank do -- made me want to defend my brother. "He was already acting all preachy and holier than thou, but then he started quoting scientific studies and getting all condescending and, well, I decided to hypnotize him and take him down a notch or two.

"And now look at him, a mindless zombie sniffing your Dad's crotch, all boned to fuck in his tighty whities." He looked at Frank and then nodded at me.

"What?"

He nodded again. "Look."

I stared down at myself and it was as if I was just coming awake. Why was I in my underwear when we had company? And... why did I have a boner? I cocked my head to the side and watched Danny stroke it, noting how it jutted almost straight out, making a tent in my briefs. It was huge!

"What's going on?" I asked, not looking up.

"You're hypnotized too," he said as he reached out and ruffled my hair.

I looked up at him then. "What? I'm -- how?"

"Frank hypnotized you earlier."

"What? No, Frank didn't hypnotize me," I scoffed. But even as I protested, snippets of memory began flashing through my mind like images flickering on an old film projector: me barking like a dog; me wagging my `tail'; me lying on my back and playing-- The floodgates opened and everything came crashing back to me. I gasped.

<Woof! Woof!>

"That's right," he laughed, scritching behind my ears and ruffling my hair again. "That's a good puppy."

I got down onto all fours and pushed my head between his legs. After a few seconds I sat back on my haunches and stared at his crotch. He was in his underwear too and there was a shiny spot where his excitement had soaked the fabric and... wait, was that MY underwear he was wearing? I looked up at him.

<Woof?>

"That's right," Danny said with a smile, snapping the waistband of the briefs he was wearing. "I found these in your hamper -- I was snooping, sue me -- and" - he indicated a damp, slightly yellowed spot on the front of my otherwise sparkling white briefs - "it looks like you rubbed one out earlier because it's still pretty fresh."

I blushed; I wasn't about to tell him it was from a huge nocturnal emission I had last night.

<Woof! Woof!>

I muzzled his crotch with my nose and lips, brushing back and forth over the thick ridge of his erection as my tail wagged excitedly. "Yes, such a good puppy," he cooed. "Does puppy want a boner?"

<Woof! Woof!> <Woof! Woof!> <Woof! Woof!>

"Well, come on then!" he laughed as he spread his legs wider and sat back. "Come on, Joe!" I continued snuffling his crotch for several minutes, rubbing my face against his cotton-covered boner, my lips and nose getting wetter and stickier as he leaked more and more pre-cum into his -- my -- underwear. I licked my lips clean several times, blushing and grinning and my tail wagging furiously at the praise he heaped on me each time.

"Good boy," he enthused. "Good boy!"

<Woof! Woof!>

Another tail wag.

<Woof! Woof!>

He leaned forward and reached beneath me, sliding his hand over my throbbing boner. "Oh, you're excited, aren't you?"

<Woof! Woof!>

He gave it a squeeze and then cupped my balls. "Yeah, so excited. I bet it turns you on when people look at it, huh?"

<Woof! Woof!>

"How about when Frank looks?"

<Woof! Woof!> <Woof! Woof!>

"Oh? You like that, huh? And how about when your dad looks?"

<Woof! Woof! Woof!> <Woof! Woof! Woof!>

"Really! You especially like that, don't you?"

<Woof! Woof! Woof!>

Furious tail wag.

<Woof! Woof! Woof!>

"I bet! Just look at him, shamelessly grinding his ass into his chair. Looks like he's ready to cum!"

<Woof?>

"What's that? You want to cum?"

<Woof!>

"You like to cum?"

<Woof! Woof!>

"Well, what're you waiting for? Up, boy!"

<Woof! Woof! Woof!>

I bounced up onto my haunches and put my paws on Danny's thighs, wagging my tail. He patted his thighs and beckoned me up onto his lap.

<Woof! Woof! Woof!>

I squirmed up, sprawling face down across his lap, crotch to crotch with him, as he patted and squeezed my butt.

<Woof! Woof!>

"Such a good puppy." I panted as he ran his fingers up and down my butt crack until I was nearly ready to explode.

<Woof! Woof!> <Woof! Woof!> <Woof! Woof!>

"Oh, you like this, don't you?"

<Woof! Woof!>

"Roll over," he ordered. I twisted onto my back. My boner in my tight white briefs so big it even surprised me. "Look at you, you're about to burst!"

<Woof! Woof!>

"You ready to cum?"

<Woof! Woof!> <Woof! Woof!> <Woof! Woof!>

He gently gripped my shaft and rubbed the pad of his thumb over the head in a firm, circular manner. I whimpered and ground by butt down as I squirted a little into my briefs.

<Woof! Woof!>

He dipped his hand beneath the waistband of my briefs and his fingertips swiped across the slick head of my cock. "You're so wet!"

I blushed, moaning as I humped up into his touch.

<Woof! Woof!>

He reached behind his back and suddenly there was a buzzing noise. He smiled wickedly as he held up my electric toothbrush and I gasped when he ran the rotating bristles over the tip of my boner, the grin spreading across his face as I whimpered and whined, thrashing my head and thrusting my hips.

"You ready to cum, Joe?"

<Woof! Woof!>

But instead of letting me cum, he worked me up just to the point of ejaculation before he eased off. I had no idea what he was doing! It was like he was teasing me. When I masturbate on my own, I try to cum as fast as I can because it feels so dang good, but Danny kept taking me right to the point where I would normally shoot my load, and then he'd stop and wait until that funny feeling in my balls went away before starting all over again.

He zapped me with my toothbrush for what seemed like hours, running it back and forth over the swollen head of my cock, as well as up and down my throbbing shaft, taking me to my limit again and again and again -- more times than I could count! It was torture! If I could've talked, I'd have begged and pleaded for him to let me cum, but all I could do was howl and whimper as he took me to the edge. Finally, when I couldn't take it any longer, he concentrated the vibrating bristles on my circumcision scar and winked at me. "Cum now, be a good boy and cum."

I arched my back and thrust my hips up and began to ejaculate, pumping another load of semen into my already soiled briefs.

<Aah-whooooh! Aah-whoooh!>

I'm cumming! I'm cumming!

<Aah-whooooh! Aah-whoooh!>

I'm cumming! I'm cumming!

"Good puppy," he praised, rubbing my sticky crotch as I lay there panting and trying to catch my breath. He scooped up a large dollop of the thick, gooey fluid that had soaked through my briefs and smeared it across my parted lips. My tongue immediately lapped it up.

"Ready for round two?"

<Woof!!>

CHAPTER 11 -- DAD

I was standing in the family room in just my underwear. My fingers were laced together behind my head and my legs were spread shoulder-width apart. When I tried to move I found I was frozen in place.

"What's wrong?" I cried out. "What's going on?"

"Relax, Mr. Hardy," Danny Porter said as he walked up to me. "You're hypnotized, remember?"

"I'm what? What are you ta--" Then it all came back: Frank's induction; barking like a dog; dancing and gyrating and stripping; masturbating and cumming and masturbating and cumming and masturbating...

As memory washed over me like a breaking tide, a low, guttural moan slipped from my lips and my balls began to tingle as blood rushed to my penis.

"Oh yeah, you remember," Danny said, grinning broadly as he looked down at my crotch. He traced the length of my erection with his index finger. "And look how hard you are," he said as he tapped the tip twice. I moaned again and it felt like my penis swelled to twice its normal size as he stroked it, making my briefs bulge out noticeably. I don't know how many times I'd already cum, but suddenly I felt ready to give up another load.

Danny seemed to get some kind of perverse thrill making me -- a grown man and a pillar of the community -- strip down and humiliate myself. To witness me pleasure myself in front of my own sons. Making me masturbate in front of them and moan in ecstasy as I ejaculated into my underwear.

It wasn't until I was down on all fours, though, rooting and sniffing between his widespread legs, rubbing my nose into the soiled white briefs he was wearing -- briefs that belonged to one of my sons -- that I realized I got just as perverse a thrill in debasing myself.

I found a pleasure in it. A pleasure in submission. A need to submit. A need to please others.

As I wiggled my brief-clad butt, snuffling and chuffing into the heady combination of sweat, musk, and cum -- soaking in the praise he heaped on me -- it became clear to me what my role was.

But even as I stood there, I knew this was wrong. Knew I should be fighting whatever hold this was Danny had on me. Resisting the control he was exerting over me. I opened my mouth in a half-hearted attempt to tell him to stop, but at that same instant he ran his finger up the side of my twitching, throbbing shaft, and what came out instead was, "More, Danny. Please. More."

"Of course, Mr. Hardy," he said cheerfully, scrubbing his thumb obligingly over the head of my erection through my briefs. He looked up at me, his lower lip between his teeth, and whispered, "But you aren't allowed to cum until I say so." I groaned.

Suddenly there were fingers stroking my sides and I whipped my head around to see Frank scrabbling his hands along my ribcage and up to my armpits, which made me squirm even more.

"Frank?" I gasped, trying not to laugh as my son tickled me. "Frank!"

"It's no use, Mr. Hardy," Danny said. "He can't hear you. He's hypnotized, too. Both he and Joe."

I looked down and saw Joe on his knees at my side. He was eye level with my obvious erection and staring at it wide-eyed and open-mouthed like he was somehow drawn to it. I should've been mortified, but then he began tickling me and any thought of shame disappeared. His fingers feathered and skittered around my crotch as I stood frozen in place, helpless to his touch. The tingling sensation in my balls was starting to build and escalate all through my body, churning and roiling inside me as he worked on me more and more.

My breathing became ragged as Joe found all my vulnerable spots -- most of which seemed to be along the inside of my upper thighs -- and worked them until I was close to laughing out of control.

But it was Danny who found my most sensitive spot: the head of my penis. I never imagined in a million years it would be ticklish, and it was an exquisite torture as he ran his fingers over it softly and delicately.

"Hee hee ho ho ooooh!!! Ahhh!!! Nooo!!! Staaaahhhppp!!!" I gurgled and blubbered as my erection lurched and throbbed and threatened to tear a hole in my briefs.

"I can't believe a grown man like you is so ticklish, Mr. Hardy," he said as I howled and squirmed, completely at his mercy since my hands and feet were frozen in place. "This is so fun!" His fingertips danced over the tip of my penis, tickling it and stimulating it, and I found myself pushing into that light and surprisingly knowledgeable touch, moaning as I sought more contact.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when Danny reached between my legs, behind my balls, and began to rub my perineum. "What're you--" I gasped, my eyes goggling as my words failed me. Suddenly all I could do was groan and mewl, grinding my butt cheeks down on his stroking fingers as I enjoyed the perineal stimulation. When he once again began swirling his fingertips over the head of my engorged penis, I shamelessly thrust into them, cravenly seeking the additional pleasure. Soon my hips were snapping back and forth like a piston as I humped both hands, the two very different sensations driving me mad.

"Look, Frank," Joe laughed as my body continued to twist and hunch, "Dad's twerking!"

Frank snorted and began to pinch my nipples and tickle my armpits. I nearly lost it then. "Boys, stop," I pleaded, at the edge of cumming. "Please, stop!" But what came out instead was, "More boys! More! Oh yes, right there! Don't stop!"

I kept begging as my body thrummed and twitched, babbling how I wanted them to make me cum. How I needed them to make me cum. "Please, I need to cum, boys! Don't stop, please don't stop!"

Danny was stroking over my quivering, spasming anus now as he continued to tease all up and down the length of my throbbing shaft. "Oh yes, Danny!" I cried out, so close to the edge that I didn't care how desperate I sounded. "Right there... that's the spot! More... harder... don't stop, Danny! Please don't stop!"

I was vibrating like a tuning fork as his torturous touches sent those delicious sensations racing through every nerve and synapse in my body. He kneaded and tugged on my balls for a few seconds before going back and swirling his fingertips over the head of my penis. "Oh, yes!" I cried, "that's it! Oh yes! More... more... more!! Don't stop!"

My peals of laughter had long since turned into moans of pleasure, and as Danny, Frank and Joe's fingers continued to relentlessly assault me, I got louder and louder. "Oh, boys... oh boys! I-I'm... I-I'm--oh, oh, OH!! I'm cumming, boys! I'm cumming!"

Jets of hot, sticky semen flooded my briefs, seeping up through the thin white cotton like a gusher. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cumming!!!" I cried out in ecstasy.

~~~~*

My dreams that night were all a variation on the same theme: I was tickled and masturbated to climax over and over; sometimes the attackers were anonymous; other times they were Frank, Joe, and Danny, or a combination of the three. One thing that was common to each dream, however, was the stimulation of my anus and perineum until I ejaculated into my underwear.

The most vivid dream found me on my back in my bed, legs spread wide in a `V' formation with my ankles secured to the heavy wrought iron frame. Danny stood between them, a look of delight on his face as he gave me another intense and thorough perineal massage.

As I lay with my fingers once again laced together behind my head, squirming and moaning and pushing into his masterful touch, I realized my head was in somebody's lap. I dragged my eyes away from Danny and looked up to see Frank gazing down at me.

"Hi Dad," he said, smiling as his hair fell boyishly into his eyes. He was sitting with his legs cross-legged, my head resting on his shins. He ruffled my hair and then began to feather his fingers up and down my ribcage before drilling them into my exposed armpits.

"Hoo hoo hoo!! Hee hee hee!" I giggled

The bed sagged and Joe knelt next to me, setting something down on the mattress. His crotch was bulging and it was evident from the large wet spot that he'd ejaculated at least once into his briefs. When he noticed me staring -- open-mouthed -- he smirked at me and winked. I quickly averted my eyes. "Don't worry, Dad," he said, "Frank likes to look, too."

He picked up what looked like a microphone and held it out to inspect it. "I found this in Mom's nightstand," he said looking at it curiously. He flipped a switch and the large, roundish head began to vibrate. He smiled broadly and touched it to the head of my penis which was pushing out my briefs like the center pole of a circus big top tent.

"Oh God!" I cried out as Joe teased and buffed the over-sensitized head of my penis with the vibrating tool. "Oh yes!"

"You like that, Dad?" he asked as he ran the wand slowly up and down the length of my erect shaft, coming back time and again to focus on the now bloated tip, smiling as my gasps and cries of pleasure turned into gurgled pleas.

"More, more!" I choked out as the pre-cum flowed freely, soaking the tautly stretched white cotton and turning it nearly transparent. "Oh, yes, that's it! So good! So, so good!"

Joe ran the vibrator along the underside of my shaft, over my churning balls, and to the spot Danny had been rubbing. "What about this, Dad?" he asked, his brow furrowed in concentration. "You like this too?" I nodded furiously, sweat breaking out on my forehead as I thrust against it.

"Oh, you're screwed now, Mr. Hardy," Danny laughed as his fingers that had been stroking over my perineum slid beneath my briefs and teased my spasming anal knot, eventually slipping between the delicate fold of clenched skin and burrowing deep in my tight hole.

"Oh! Oh!" I moaned, arching my back as Frank pinched and plucked my nipples. Danny found my prostate and I groaned with pleasure as he expertly massaged it, working his finger over it the same way my doctor does during the twice-yearly prostate check-ups he's insisted on giving me since I turned thirty-five.

But it was Joe sliding the bulbous head of the vibrator into my mouth and Danny's terse order of, "Suck it, bitch," that sent me over the edge. I wrapped my lips around the tip of the buzzing wand, and as it rattled my teeth and tickled the roof of my mouth, I ejaculated yet again, dumping my biggest load of the night into my once pristine tight white briefs.

~~~~*

My blaring alarm jarred me awake and I slapped it to shut it off, silencing the shrill, piercing beeps that slammed throughout my dull, sluggish brain. What time was it? Heck, what day was it? I was about to go back to sleep when I remembered it was Sunday, Laura and Trudy were gone, and I needed to get up and make breakfast before church.

I rolled out of bed and trudged into the bathroom. Still in a daze, I relieved myself, idling fondling my morning erection as I did so. While I brushed my teeth, I noticed the front of my briefs were a dingy grayish-yellow and looked like they were crusted over with something. I rinsed my mouth and inspected them more closely.

"Oh," I mumbled, shrugging my shoulders when I realized it was just dried cum. "Just a nocturnal emission. No big deal." I brushed my thumb over my still half-hard shaft and as I felt it rapidly plump up, I realized it was time to masturbate again. I sat down on the marble vanity top, spread my legs, and fished my erection out of my briefs. Licking my palm, I wrapped my fist around it and began to jerk it, rubbing and massaging my perineum with the index and middle finger of my other hand, as I chanted, "Stroke it, stroke it, stroke it... and pump, pump, pump. And stroke it, stroke it, stroke it... and wait, wait, wait..."

It took less than a minute to reach climax. "Oh yes! Yes!!" I roared as I tucked myself back into my underwear just in time to fill my already cum-soaked briefs with yet another load as the familiar, welcome sensation of my orgasm coursed through my body.

I wiped my hands off on my stomach and got down from the counter. As I washed my face and styled my hair, I decided I didn't need to shave or shower today and that I could wait until after breakfast to get dressed for church. Satisfied with how I looked, I went to wake the boys.

CHAPTER 12 -- FRANK

I opened my eyes to a panoramic expanse of white looming over me.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Dad said, gently shaking my shoulder as he reached across me to shut off my alarm clock. The bulge in his briefs was just inches from my face as he leaned over me, his erect shaft clearly outlined through the damp white fabric.

"Hi Dad," I said through a yawn, stretching as I sat up, my eyes glued to his crotch.

"Sleep okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, leaning slightly toward him as I took a deep breath, inhaling the heady, musky scent of sweat and semen. "Lots of weird dreams though."

"Me too." He rubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw and then through his sleep-rumpled hair. "Weird but good. Come on, it's time to get up. I'm going to wake up your brother and then make breakfast."

"Good luck," I laughed. My eyes looked him up and down as he walked out of my room, centering on his firm, round butt before I threw back my covers and slid out of bed. I slowly made my way to the Jack and Jill bathroom Joe and I shared, and took in my disheveled appearance in the mirror. I noticed that my briefs were tented with my erection and were damp and sticky to the touch. I pulled the elastic waistband out and peaked down to discover my pubic hair slick and matted with what looked like semen. "Oh, just a nocturnal emission," I said aloud with a shrug. "No big deal."

That reminded me that it was time to masturbate again so I hopped up onto the counter and pulled my erection from my cum-soaked briefs and tucked the elastic under my balls. "Stroke it, stroke it, stroke it... and pump, pump, pump," I intoned as my fist slid up and down the length of my penis.

I spread my legs and slid two fingers over the spot between my butt and balls just like Danny did to Dad in a couple of my dreams. My breath caught and my body started to tingle and now I know why Dad's eyes were rolling back in his head and why he was making all those high-pitched gurgling noises.

As I slid my fingers back and forth over that magic spot, my heart racing a million miles an hour, I spied Joe's electric toothbrush lying on the counter and suddenly remembered another dream.

We were all in the basement game room. I was sprawled across Danny's lap on the sofa while Joe was a few feet away, slumped against an old bean bag chair. His knees were bent and his legs were spread wide, and Dad, down on his hands and knees and in just his underwear like Joe and me, had his nose buried deep in his crotch.

I couldn't help but stare at Dad's butt -- his tight white briefs stretched to their limit -- and feeling strangely drawn to it as he nuzzled and sniffed Joe's bulge. Danny ran a finger over my lips as I watched Dad's butt sway side to side and then began sliding it in and out of my mouth. I began sucking on it as he told me what a good job I was doing. As I basked in his praise, realizing how much I liked pleasing him, he slid a second finger in.

I continued to slobber around his thrusting fingers and found I liked having something in my mouth. As I sucked harder, Danny began to buzz my erection with Joe's electric toothbrush, giggling when the rotating bristles teased me, making me howl and scream. Every time I tried to buck or twist though, he'd tell me to relax, and every time I was about to cum, he'd flick the toothbrush off until the sensation subsided. Then, when I'd finally catch my breath, he'd begin all over again, starting from that spot just behind my balls, up along the underside of my shaft, and back over the tip of my erection.

He did this to both me and Joe. Heck, he even had Dad cumming a time or two while he bounced him up and down on his lap! He'd work us up over and over with that toothbrush, taking us right to the point of climax and ejaculation, only to stop. Over and over and over! And then, finally, after what seemed like hours, when we were practically screaming and ready to explode, he'd let us shoot and fill our briefs with cum.

This last time was particularly intense and I discovered I liked being `edged' -- his word. When he finally allowed me to ejaculate, I nearly passed out from the sensation, gripping the sofa cushions with both hands as my whole body arched up and I shot wads and wads of semen into my briefs.

"Oh, I'm cumming!" I cried out as my toes dug into the thick carpet. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

Joe stumbled into the bathroom just then. His hair was a tangled mess, sticking up all over the place, and he looked half-asleep. "Wake the dead much, bro?" he mumbled, snapping me back to the present.

I looked down. Somehow, despite being lost in my daydream, I still managed to tuck myself back in my briefs so I could ejaculate in them.

"`I'm cumming, I'm cumming!'" Joe mimicked, grinning broadly as we watched the fresh load of semen puddle up through the cotton of my cum-soaked briefs. He rubbed his eyes and elbowed me. "Next time wait for me, okay?"

"Yeah, sorry," I said. I noticed his briefs were tented out and that, like mine, were filled with several loads of cum.

I washed up and brushed my teeth as Joe sat down on the vanity next to me. "Nice boner," I said when he pulled his hard penis from his briefs.

"It is, isn't it?" he said with a cocky grin as he started to masturbate right in front of me.

My eyes were riveted to his erection and I found myself silently chanting, "stroke it, stroke it, stroke it," along with him as he eagerly pleasured himself. "Stroke it, stroke it, stroke it." When he shoved his spurting erection into his briefs, his eyes rolling up and his eyelashes fluttering, I found my own penis had come back to life and was starting to pulse and throb.

~~~~*

Dad was at the stove wearing nothing but his briefs and an apron as he cooked. I couldn't help but notice how far his erection made the little apron stick out. He turned to me and Joe, in just our briefs as well, and smiled. "Good morning, boys. Sausage?"

"You bet," Joe said, sliding into his chair and grabbing a sausage from the plate Dad set down.

"Me too," I chimed in as I poured myself a cup of coffee. "I love sausage. The bigger the better."

"Like father, like son," Dad smiled as he playfully ruffled my hair. "I never told you boys, but it was my old partner who turned me onto sausage." He popped a link into his mouth. "Yup, every time I stay with Sam I wake up craving sausage."

"I know what you mean, Dad," Joe said, talking with his mouth full. "Getting my mouth on a nice juicy sausage was the first thing on my mind when I woke up this morning. In fact," - he reached up and snapped the waistband of Dad's briefs - "I dreamed about sausage all night!"

"Me too," I said.

"That makes three of us," Dad said. "It's a good thing there's plenty here." He finished his coffee and held out his cup. "Hey Frank, would you mind refilling my cup and then topping it off with some cream?"

"Sure thing." As I poured the coffee, Joe snagged another sausage and shoved the whole thing in his mouth. "I love cream," he said.

"So do I," I said, grabbing a sausage and sliding it between my lips.

"Hey, where does Mom keep her shopping list?" Joe asked.

"In the drawer next to the fridge," Dad said. "Why, do you need something?"

"I need a new head for my electric toothbrush. I think the bristles are old. They left a funky taste in my mouth this morning." I almost choked on the sausage in my mouth.

"Bro, what's wrong?" Joe asked as I coughed and sputtered. "You're acting like this is the first time you've had sausage."

"What do you boys have planned after church?" Dad asked as he set plates of scrambled eggs before us and took his apron off.

"Biff's coming over after lunch," I said, loading up my plate with eggs and sausage. "I talked to him Friday night and he agreed to let me try the hypnotic induction on him."

"Oh, Biff would be perfect," Dad said thoughtfully and I noticed the front of his underwear push out even more.

"I think so, too," I agreed, squeezing my own thickening shaft through my damp briefs.

"Hope you have better luck with him than you did with me, bro," Joe said around another mouth full of sausage as he thumbed the tip of his erection through his tight white briefs. "I told you hypnosis was bunk."

"Now Joe," Dad said, sitting down to eat, smiling as he forked a sausage, "all that means is you're not suggestible. How about you, Frank, did you give it a try?"

"Yeah," I said. "Total bust."

"Well then," Dad said as he slid the sausage into his mouth. "I think we can agree that's another trait we Hardy Boys share."

"Yup," I agreed, smiling broadly. "But just because hypnosis doesn't work on us, doesn't mean it won't work on somebody else."

"Hey, maybe I should ask Chet," Joe said. "He's coming over this afternoon to play Battlegrounds. I bet he'd be up for it."

"That's a great idea," I said, and Dad nodded in agreement.

The doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Joe said, adjusting his erection as he rose from the table. Both Dad and I watched as he went to answer the door, our eyes glued to his round butt encased in his tight white briefs.

"Hi Joe!" I heard Danny say from the foyer. A few seconds later they walked into the kitchen. "Good morning, Mr. Hardy. Hey Frank. Boy, it looks like a real sausage fest in here."

"Would you like one?" Dad asked. He got up and pulled out a chair for Danny.

"Oh, no thanks," Danny said, as he slid into the chair, his head inches from the bulge in Dad's briefs. "I got my fill last night!"

The End

If you like these kinds of stories, please show your appreciation by making a donation to the Nifty Archive. Go to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html