Carl paced nervously in front of Buckaroo’s for twenty minutes, trying to get up the courage to go in. Several times, he nearly walked away, but finally, curiosity got the better of him.

He just had to know.

It was nice enough inside, the bar polished, the floor clean.There was a dance floor in the center of the room, with one of those old mirrored balls hanging from the ceiling and revolving gently. There was a sparse crowd—not surprising for a Wednesday night.

And they were all men. Good looking men—

Let’s not go there yet, Carl thought.

He ordered a beer and took it to one of the empty tables ringing the dance floor. As he sat, he had the funny feeling that the men were checking him out. He didn’t know whether he liked it or not.

But that was what he had come here to find out, right?

The beer was good and helped him to relax just a bit. The sound system was playing “A Day in the Life,” and four men were on the floor, dancing with each other. Carl watched, trying to imagine himself as one of the dancers.

“Hi,” someone said.

Carl jumped. “H—hello,” he muttered. It was a nice looking blonde guy, about Carl’s age, wearing a plaid workshirt and jeans.

“Your first time?” the man asked.

Carl shrugged. “Is it that obvious?”

“Man, a blind man could have seen it a thirty paces.” He gave a friendly smile. “Don’t worry. There isn’t a man here who hasn’t gone through what you’re thinking right now.”

“I may not be gay,” Carl said.

“No. Or you may. It’s not an easy thing to decide. Some days, you’ll be sure of it; others you’ll think you’re joking. Eventually, you’ll come up with an answer.” He smiled again. “I was there myself.”

“You were?”

“Sure. I was married for 10 years before I realized it. Adult onset homosexuality,” he said, smiling. “You deny it all your life until, suddenly you realize what you’re denying is exactly what you are. May I sit? I’ve been on my feet all day.”

Carl nodded.

“Thanks. I’m Brian, by the way. Brian Baxter.”

“I’m . . . Carl. Just Carl.”

Brian nodded. “I understand. Don’t want to commit yourself.”

“Exactly,” Carl said.

“I wouldn’t give my name out either, if I were in your position. Too many unknowns. You don’t want some nutcase coming on to you and harassing you at home. But you really do need to relax, though. You can’t be thinking clearly if you’re this uptight.”

Carl took another sip of the beer. “The alcohol helps.”

“But I doubt you’re going to want to get drunk. Not in here. Tell you what. Here’s a little something I find very useful.” He nodded toward the dance floor. “Take a look at the mirrored ball.”

Carl looked at it. The music had stopped and the floor was empty, but the ball kept on turning. “So?”

“Keep watching. There’s something a little bit different about it, if you look.”

Carl watched for a moment. “I don’t see—”

“Don’t talk about it. Just watch. Watch closely. See if you can pick it out.”

Carl kept watching. He couldn’t figure out what Brian meant.

“Keep watching. Watch it turn. Not too slow. Not too fast. Notice how it’s just the perfect speed. Watch. Just watch. And as you watch, feel yourself relaxing. Relaxing. That’s the secret of the ball. It makes you relax. You feel the tension leave you, flowing away from you. Your muscles are untensing. You feel your hands get heavy. Heavy. Very heavy.”

Carl’s hands fell to his side, too heavy for him to lift.

“You see?” Brian said. “You are relaxing. You are feeling very relaxed, very good. You like this feeling. You like it very much. Keep watching the ball and feel yourself relaxing. It’s like you’re floating away from your body, away from your cares. Floating away. Floating. Floating.”

“Floating,” murmured Carl. It felt as though he were on a cloud, all his cares far behind.

“Very good, Carl. Very good. You feel very relaxed, very happy.”

“Happy,” said Carl. A voice inside him seemed to be warning him about something, but it was far away. It would only ruin his happiness. “Relaxed.”

“Very good. You are so relaxed, that you are finding it hard to keep your eyes open. They seem very heavy. You are feeling like you’re going to fall into a warm, wonderful sleep, like finally going to sleep after a hard day. When I count to three, you will fall asleep. But you will still hear my voice, even when you’re asleep. You like hearing my voice, Carl. You find my voice relaxing. Pleasant to listen to. Calming. You feel very calm, very peaceful. You are ready to sleep now, aren’t you? One. Your eyelids are impossible to keep open. Two. You are nearly asleep. Three.”

Carl’s eyelids fluttered shut and his head slumped forward, chin touching his chest.

“Very good, Carl. Very good. You hear me, but you are asleep. You are dreaming, floating happily. So happy. So relexed. You have never felt this good. You love this feeling, don’t you? You can answer me; it’s just talking in your sleep. You love this feeling.,don’t you?”

Carl felt wonderful. All his cares were gone. “Yes,” he mumbled.

“Very good,” said Brian. “All you can hear now is my voice. It’s all that matters.”

The sounds of the room were gone. All Carl could hear was Brian’s voice.

“Now, Carl. I’m going to ask you a few questions. You will want to answer me, since each answer will take you deeper and deeper into this wonderful place. You will tell the the truth. You must answer whatever I ask. If you do not, or if you lie, you will leave this happy place, never to return. You wouldn’t want that, would you, Carl?”

Leave here? Never! “No.”

“Very good. Very good. Now, tell me you last name.”

Carl hesitated. When he came in here, that was the last thing he wanted to do. It seemed essential at the time. He couldn’t tell Brian.

But that would make him leave this place, leave this warm,happy feeling. Forever. . . .

“Carl Hanson,” Carl said. Immediately he felt better, calmer, more happy, just like Brian said. Brian was right. He trusted Brian.

“Now tell me your address and phone number.”

Carl did. It felt so good. He was so happy.

“Now, Carl, why did you come to Buckaroos?”

He had to tell the truth. “I wanted to know if I was gay.” So much happer that he told this. Sooooo much more relaxed....

“You don’t need to know that. You ARE gay.”

“No,” Carl mumbled. “I just need to know.”

“Listen to me, Carl. This is Brian. The one who took you to this happy place. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” said Carl.

“You believe me, don’t you?”

“I . .. " So hard to think.

“If you say you are gay, Carl, you will stay in the happy place. In fact, you will find it seems even happier. More peaceful. More pleasurable. All your cares will be gone, and you will do whatever I ask.”

Peace and pleasure. It sounded so good. So enticing.

“Say it, Carl. Just try it. Say you’re gay. See how happy it makes you. You want to be happy, don’t you?”

Happy. Yes. The happy place.. . .

“I’m gay,” Carl muttered. The last of his tension left him. He felt like all his cares had been lifted. So happy. So glad.

“You see? Each time you say it, you’ll become more and more relaxed, more and more happy. Try it.”

“I’m gay,” said Carl. Yes. Brian was right. He did feel happier. “I’m gay.” Bliss!

“Very good, Carl. You are gay, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He loved to admit it.

“You have always been gay. Say that.”

“I have always been gay.”

“You see? So good to admit it. And, if you’ve always been gay, you must never have married.”

Carl frowned. He was married, wasn’t he? Something was wrong. Something he had to think about. “Alice,” he murmured.

“No, Carl,” said Brian in his soft soothing voice. “There is no Alice. There never was an Alice. You are forgetting all about her. Forget. Forget and be happy.”

Forget? How could he? But he did want to be happy.

“Forget,” Brian whispered.

Carl forgot. . . . something. It wasn’t important. Not here. Not in this happy place.

“Now, Carl, I have a very imporatant question to ask. You must answer it truthfully. Understand?”

Carl nodded.

“Tell me about your wife, Carl. What’s her name?”

Carl frowned. “My wife?”

“Yes. Your wife. Isn’t her name Alice?”

The name meant nothing. He had never heard it before in his life. “No,” he said, wanting to just stay in the happy place and not think.

“Very good, Carl. Very good. You are my best subject yet.”

Carl felt pleased. He was the best. It made him even happier.

“Now listen carefully, Carl. You like me. You like me very much. Understand?”

“I like you,” mumbled Carl.

“Very good. Now, when I could to three, you will wake up. You will have no conscious memory of this conversation. But your subconscious will remember it all and know everything I told you was the truth. You will find that you like me, and trust me. I am your friend. When I make suggestions, you’ll want to go along, because you like me so much. Whatever I tell you will sound perfectly reasonable. Understand?”

Carl nodded.

“Good boy, Carl. You will always be my good boy. You like it whan I call you that.”

Another nod. So nice to listen.

“Good. When you wake up, you will no longer be nervous. You will only recall that you and I had a very nice conversation, and that you like me and trust me. And, whenever I say the words ‘Happy Place,’ you will return to this trance and await my commands to be implanted. Understand?”

“Yes,” murmured Carl. He could come back! Wonderful.

“Good. Now, I will count. One. Two. Three.”

Carl’s eyes opened. He felt strange, disoriented. But it passed quickly. There was no reason for it. He had just been having a nice coversation with his new friend Brian.

“Feeling a little less nervous?” Brian asked.

Carl thought about it, and nodded. “Yes. You’re not what I would have thought.”

Brian laughed. “I suppose I’m not. But I’ll take that as a compliment anyway. Look,” he went on. “The beer in this place isn’t too great. Why don’t you come to my place. I’ve got some imported stuff in my fridge.”

“Well . . . " Should he be going off with this man, this stranger? “Sure,” he said. It made sense. He wondered why he questioned at all.

Brian smiled.

* * *

Carl liked Brian’s apartment for some reason, just as he liked Brian. The beer was as good as advertised. After an hour and a couple of glasses, he felt perfectly at home.

Brian seemed to sense it. He smiled. “So, you want to find out for sure?”

Carl hesitated, unsure if he was ready. But Brian was so nice. He nodded. “If we take it slow.”

“Of course,” said Brian. He leaned her Carl and kissed him. “How’s that?” he asked.

Carl thought. It was surprising that it didn’t bother him. “Fine,” he said.

“Want to give up?”

“Not yet.”

“Glad to hear it.” Brian kissed him again, this time thrusting his tongue into Carl’s mouth.

Carl broke away. Too aggressive, he thought. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

“Something wrong?” Brian asked.

“I don’t know. I’m beginning to have some second thoughts.”

“Second thoughts? You don’t want to visit the happy place?”

“What are you—?” But Carl felt as though he was falling, falling into a dream of happiness and pleasure. The Happy Place! he realized. He missed it so much...

“Do you hear me, boy?”

“Yes,” Carl mumbled. He knew what he had to do. Listen to Brian. His friend.

“Very good, boy. And from now on, call me ‘sir.’ That also will make you feel very happy.”

“Yes,” said Carl.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.” So heavenly to say it.

“Very good. Now I want you to open your eyes. Stay in the happy place, but keep your eyes open. You’ll find it is very easy.”

Carl tried it. Brian was standing there, smiling at him.

“Now, boy, are you gay?”

Of course. “Yes, sir.”

“And you find me handsome. You think I’m the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.”

“Of course, sir.” Carl smiled at Brian, flirting.

“Why don’t you take out my cock and suck on it?”

Carl paused for a moment. There was something wrong about the request. Something he didn’t like about it. . .

But the thought passed. He was gay. He loved doing such things. “Yes, sir,” he said.

He stepped forward, reaching for Brian’s belt. In a moment, he had it undone.

Brian’s beautiful cock popped out. Carl thought it was magnificent. It was the perfect size—about seven inches—the perfect shape.

“You are very turned on by it, boy.”

Carl nodded. He could not speak in front of such sexual stimulus.

“Take me, boy. Suck on me. Taste me. Smell me. It’s all too erotic for words. You cannot control yourself. YOU WANT ME!”

“Yes, sir,” Carl said, feeling his passion become uncontrolable. He took Brian’s wonderful cock deeply in his mouth, running his tongue over the cockhead. Carl tasted the precum, so salty, so delicious. He took Brian deeply, wondering if he might gag. But he found he did not. He took the cock deeply, moving his head up and down in a regular rhythm. He looked up into Brian’s eyes.

Brian was looking at him, his hand pressing Carl’s head to keep it on his cock. “Very good, boy,” he said. He sounded breathless. “You want to make me cum. You need to make me cum. It will take you deeper into the happy place, boy.”

Carl wanted to say “yes, sir,” but that would mean taking his mouth off this perfect cock. He licked and sucked harder, running his hands gently over Brian’s balls. He could feel the rock solid cock in his mouth; his own was also big and hard. He continued to suck and lick.

Brian moaned. “That’s it, boy,” he said, his voice tight with passion. Keep sucking. Suck me hard. You love it. You love to suck my dick. You love to obey me.”

“Yes, sir,” Carl murmured, and returned to pleasing Brian. He moved his head up and down, feeling the shaft deep in his throat.

Brian tensed, pressing Carl to him.

His cock exploded in Carl’s mouth. The tangy taste of cum filled his senses and he sucked desperately, trying to get every last drop.

“Ah, yes,” said Brian. “Very good, boy. Very good.”

Carl smiled. He was back in the happy place now. He sighed. So blissful.

Brian gently slipped his cock out of Brian’s mouth. A few drops of cum coated Carl’s chin.

Brain patted his head. “Very good, boy. Even better than I hoped. Now, I want you to fall asleep in the happy place. You will sleep, dreaming of me, until I say the words ‘wake up, boy.’ Then you will awake, but still remain in the happy place. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Carl mumbled.

“Sleep, boy,” said Brian.

Carl slept.

* * *

The words slowly floated into Carl’s consciousness. “All right, boy. You are beginning to wake up. When I count to three, you will be awake. You won’t have any memory of what when on here a little while ago. You will not realize anything happened, or that any time had passed. However, whenever I say the word ‘cock’—or any of its synonyms—you will, for an instant, remember. It will seem unreal, like a dream, but you will recall it. It will turn you on. And you will know, deep down, that the only way to be satisfied is to have me fucking you. Understand?

“Yes, sir,” said Carl.

“Very good, boy. One more thing. Whenever I touch you, you will feel extremely horny. You will be filled with sexual desire—more than you ever thought possible. You will find it impossible to ignore the feeling.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, One. Two. Three.”

Carl shook his head. Where had he been? Oh, yes, that kiss. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m still unsure of myself.”

Brian smiled. “I understand. Perfectly natural. Since this is your first time, you want to take it slowly. Tell me, have you ever touched another man’s cock?”

“Of course not . . . " An image fleeingly came into Carl’s mind: him kneeling, sucking on Brian’s penis. It vanished in an instant, leaving Carl disoriented. Why did he think of that?

“Are you all right?” Brian asked.

Carl shook his head to clear it. “Yes,” he murmured, wondering what had come over him.

“Was the question too blunt? I don’t want to seem too pushy or anything.”

“Question?”

“I asked if you ever touched another man’s cock.”

The image returned. Carl gasped slightly. “No,” he whispered.

“Do you want to touch my cock?”

The image was stronger: his lips on Brian’s cock. Brian calling him “boy.” And he was loving it. He felt his cock harden at the thought.

Carl swallowed. This wasn’t what he expected. He had had some thoughts, some ideas, but nothing this vivid.

“Are you all right?” Brian asked.

“Fine, fine,” said Carl.

Brian moved closer. “Don’t be nervious,” he said. “I won’t do anything you don’t want.” He placed his hand on Carl’s.

... the taste of Brian’s cock, its aroma, all came to mind. He was Brian’s slave...

“Carl?” Brian said. He looked deeply into Carl’s eyes.

“Yes, sir,” Carl said. He kissed Carl, deeply this time, imagining the other man’s lucious cock. He had never felt so turned on.

“Take me, sir,” he whispered.

Brian smiled.

* * *

Afterwards, Carl lay back, exhausted. The sex had been incredible. Every time Brian had touched him, it had sent shivers of desire through him. How had he missed out so many years?

He kissed Brian; there was no hesitation this time. “That was wonderful, sir.”

Brian nodded. “Too bad you’re not going to remember it.”

Carl laughed. “Forget this? Not likely.’

“We’ll see,” said Brian. “You see, the part that interests me is the seduction. Finding a straight guy and bringing him over to the other side. Once they’re here, it’s kind of weak in comparison.” He smiled. “That’s why I hit upon this technique. I can make you forget everything and start over.”

Carl shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

Brian touched his hand. God, thought Carl, how he turns me on. “I know you don’t. And you never will. Which is what makes it so perfect. And, if I do want a gayboy to command—well, I have that covered, too.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You won’t have to.” Brian gave Carl one more kiss, then said, “happy place.”

* * *

Well, thought Carl. That was a bust. You couldn’t even bring yourself to go inside. You spend the one evening drinking at the place next door.

He walked away from Buckaroo’s. Maybe another time he’d get up the courage. Then he’d finally know.

It would make him very happy to find out.

end