Adrian -- A Short Story

This story is fictional. Please note that it contains gay characters.

(c) 2009 by the author. Please email comments here to z119z or to z119z2000@yahoo.com. Thanks.


The first time I saw Adrian, he was stretched out on a rug at the Doctor’s feet. The rug was a elaborately patterned Turkish carpet, and he was tracing a segment of the design with an index finger, over and over again, the finger obsessively following a line of lighter-colored wool.

When I entered, the Doctor stood up to greet me, clasping my hand in both of his and pumping it vigorously. He welcomed me effusively and fussed about me until he was satisfied I was comfortable. He made me sit facing him, in a chair near the fire, and provided me a glass of his excellent wine. The warmth of the fire soon dispelled the chill of the midwinter night.

I found it difficult to pay much attention to what the Doctor was saying, however. I had to pull my eyes away from the young man who lay on the carpet between us, and my gaze kept drifting back to him. He wore only a pair of thin black briefs. He was oblivious to everything but the pattern in the rug. It seemed to have enchanted him. He made no acknowledgment of my presence or of my conversation with the Doctor. It was as if neither I nor the Doctor existed. Indeed as if he were not present in the room with us at all.

I knew of the Doctor’s experiments with hypnotism and drugs. He had spent several years in Europe and Asia studying a variety of mind-control techniques. Was the man on the carpet proof, I wondered, that the Doctor’s studies had been successful?

Adrian’s eyes remained fixed on the rug. His lack of contact with his surroundings made it easier for me to treat him as an object and examine him closely. My first impression was that I was watching a cat. He had the same sleek, lithe appearance, the same intense absorption in himself. He had oiled his skin, or someone had, and it caught the light of the many candles the Doctor had placed about the room. The flames danced on his body, accenting the taut planes of his body. Other than the mop of curly black hair atop his head, his body was hairless. Each muscle stood out crisp and defined. The black briefs did nothing to hide the curves of his ass or the swelling of his cock and balls. He was a magnificent specimen, a tribute to the Doctor’s training.

The Doctor watched me with amusement as I stared at the man on the carpet. He crossed his legs, and his fingertips met in a steeple before his chin. “Do you like him?”

“He is beautiful.” I tried to match the Doctor’s nonchalant tone and not let my interest show, but my voice quavered.

“Yes. Better minds and bodies through hypnosis and chemistry. Of course, nature provided me a good foundation to work with. He has enough imagination to be a good subject for trancing, and the obstacles he tried to erect were quickly overcome with proper treatment. His name is Adrian, by the way.”

“Doesn’t he hear us speaking?”

“Yes and no. The sound waves of our voices impinge on his eardrums, and the signals undoubtedly reach his brain. But he is under a command not to pay attention. His mind is blank at the moment. He does not register what we are saying.”

“Interesting. And is Adrian part of my treatment?”

“Tell me how you feel about him. What you feel about his presence in the room. What are you thinking?”

The Doctor seldom answered questions. He usually parried them by asking a question of his own. Initially I had often resisted answering him fully or truthfully. But he seemed to know when I was being evasive and kept after me until he had taught me to respond more openly to his probing. “I am curious about your degree of control over him. Is it total? Or it this just an act?” I did not expect the Doctor to answer those questions. “And I am curious about what you have in mind. Adrian is an unusual form of therapy, if that is what he is.”

“Do you want him to be part of your treatment?”

“I’m sure it would be a pleasant treatment. But how would he feel about it? Surely his cooperation would be necessary.”

The Doctor smiled. “Adrian’s cooperation is guaranteed. He has been programmed to cooperate.” The Doctor’s voice became soft and silky. “It makes him feel good, very good, to cooperate.” He leaned forward in his chair and gestured to Adrian to move closer. The young man sat up and leaned his head on the Doctor’s knee. The Doctor lightly stroked the back of Adrian’s neck. “It makes you feel so good to cooperate, doesn’t it, Adrian?”

Adrian lifted his head long enough to smile at the Doctor and then he lowered it until it rested against the Doctor’s knee again. His eyelids fluttered shut. A small moan of pleasure deep within his chest was his only answer to the Doctor’s question. I was reminded again of a valued pet, one content with his lot.

The Doctor continued to stroke Adrian’s neck with his fingertips as he spoke to me. I couldn’t take my eyes off those strong fingers as they moved lightly over the other man’s neck. The barest whispers of touch up and down the neck and circling the knob of the top vertebra. I could almost feel them against my neck and had to stop myself from raising a hand to check to see if the Doctor were touching me as well.

“I ask you again. How would you integrate Adrian into your treatment?”

“Is he a sex therapist?”

“You answer my question with another question. I thought you had progressed beyond the point that you needed to parry my attempts to help you with such tactics.”

“I don’t think I would enjoy using him as a sex therapist.”

“That is better, Peter. Now tell me why not.”

“He is very beautiful. I do find his type attractive. But he seems so docile, so submissive. I like stronger men.”

“His submissiveness, his docility, do not attract you. And why is that?”

“Because I want to be the submissive and docile one. He is playing the role I wish to play. For him to be a satisfactory partner, he would have to be domineering and aggressive.”

“Very good, Peter. That is very good. You are making progress.” The Doctor said nothing for a few minutes. We sat there quietly as he thought. The flames of the fire and the candles continued to play over Adrian’s body. He did not move. Other than the shallow movements of his chest as he breathed in and out, he sat absolutely still at the Doctor’s side, apparently unaware of anything happening around him.

“Would you like to see how submissive and docile Adrian is? I have been training him for three years now. His obedience is complete.”

I took a sip of wine and waited for a moment before I spoke. My breath suddenly felt shallow within my throat. “His obedience is complete”—those words aroused me. That goal had eluded me for so long. I would not allow Adrian to have what I had searched for for so many years. I countered the Doctor’s assertion with a stubborn denial. “No obedience is complete. The ego always remains. I do know something about that. I have experimented for many years with training regimens designed to rid me of my consciousness of self. Even the Zen Master could not rid me of an ego. That is why I came to you. I want to understand this need I feel to become completely submissive, why I see my own ego as the enemy.”

The Doctor ignored my comments. “Stand up, Adrian.” The young man rose lightly to his feet. “I have brought Adrian here tonight to demonstrate what you might achieve, Peter, if you so choose. I can help you to understand your desires, or I can help you to achieve them. The choice will be yours. But first, the demonstration.”

I made a noncommittal gesture with my hand, but the Doctor’s words intrigued me. No, that is disingenuous. The prospect of what he seemed to be offering me excited me, aroused me. There was a familiar tightening around my crotch as my cock reacted to the Doctor’s statement. Obedience, submission, control—those are the things that make me react, make the blood pound within me, cause a flush of heat to rise from my groin to my scalp, engender the welcome feeling of weakness and desire.

The Doctor regarded me without expression for a few moments before speaking again. He barely looked at Adrian as he spoke. “Adrian, your body is frozen, totally rigid. You cannot move.” Adrian’s body stiffened and became motionless. It was as if he had become a statue. Even his eyes seemed to turn to stone.

“Very good, Adrian, very good. You please me. Now your cock will grow hard.”

As soon as the Doctor spoke, Adrian’s cock pushed out against his briefs. It extended straight out from his body, stretching the fabric and pulling it away from his groin. He did not react. No sign of emotion appeared on his face. His breath did not quicken. His posture did not change. His eyes stared straight ahead unmoving.

“Excellent, Adrian. Now watch carefully, Peter. Keep your eyes on Adrian’s cock. Good. I can see that this is beginning to have a certain, shall we say, interest for you. I think you will find the next part fascinating.”

The Doctor paused. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him watching me, but I could not take my eyes off Adrian’s cock. Its contours were visible beneath the sheer briefs. Even the slit at the head was visible in the clinging fabric. His engorged cock had pulled open a gap between the briefs and his body, and I could see his balls and the base of his cock in the opening. They, too, were smooth and hairless.

“Now, Adrian, at the count of three, you will have an orgasm. It will be the best orgasm you have ever had. You are focused on your cock. You feel only the sensations in your cock. You feel enormous pleasure, a wave of pressure building inside you that will explode when I finish counting. You will not move. You will remain rigid. You will make no sound. You will simply have the best orgasm you have ever had.”

The Doctor spoke the numbers quietly, without inflection, pausing only briefly between each of them. “One. Two. Three.”

The moment the Doctor said “Three,” the cum erupted from Adrian’s cock. For a second it mounded on the front of his briefs, glistening white against the black fabric. Another spurt of cum quickly followed, and a third and then a fourth. The cum oozed down the front of Adrian’s briefs and then several drops fell to the floor.

I gasped. Without thinking about it, I had been holding my breath, waiting to see what would happen. As soon as Adrian’s cum jetted out, my own cum rose inside my cock, a hot needle of pleasure and longing shooting upward. I moaned and mentally clamped down on my orgasm, stifling it and holding it in. Even so, I could feel the dampness grow around the head of my cock as my own cum oozed out and wet my briefs. I moaned again, and hastily pulled my underwear away from my cock. I knew the Doctor could see what I was doing and would understand the cause, and I felt shame at my own lack of control. The intensity of the feeling overrode my humiliation, however. I had to do something to relieve the heat in my groin. I slumped down in the chair, and my hand rubbed my cock through the fabric of my pants. The Doctor’s words echoed in my mind. “One. Two. Three.”

My eyes were fixed on Adrian and the mound of white cum on his briefs. I could taste it. I knew exactly how it would feel to kneel before him, to feel the stiff pile of the carpet biting into the flesh of my knees. To lean forward and then close my eyes at the last moment. To reach out with the tip of my tongue and taste the warm, sticky, salty cum. To push my tongue into that knob of cum and lick the wet and abrasive fabric of his briefs. To feel the ridges of his cock against my lips and face as I smeared Adrian’s cum over them. To suck the head of his cock into my mouth and lick it clean.

I couldn’t bear to look any longer at Adrian’s cum-stained briefs. I lifted my eyes to his face. It remained blank and unmoving. Whatever he was seeing was inside his mind. Nothing in the room was part of his consciousness. He seemed so at peace, so disengaged from what was happening. It was as if a statue, a robot, had been programmed to ejaculate, and that part of its body operated independently of the rest of it.

“Very good, Adrian. You may clean yourself up. And then you may leave.”

Adrian walked silently from the room. The Doctor took a sip of wine and gazed into the fire. “As I said, I have been programming Adrian for three years now. It took four, perhaps five, weeks of intensive work to link his programming with pleasure in his mind. Once I had accomplished that, it took little additional effort to bring him to the state he exists in now. In case you are curious, he does feel enormous satisfaction and pleasure in obeying me. He will not remember exactly what happened here tonight, just that he had a very pleasant evening, another very pleasant evening, with his good friend, the Doctor.”

The Doctor’s cool words brought me back to myself. I sat up straighter. “Could you make him do anything?” My voice came out hoarse and raspy.

“Yes. Absolutely. But I have no interest in misusing my powers over him and the others I have trained. I do enjoy my control over them and their minds and bodies, but the control is enough for me. I do not need to hurt them or humiliate them or use them for criminal purposes. And I refuse to do so even to those who desire such things. For those who need that, I can recommend other therapists who will supply what they want.”

“Why did you show me this?”

“So that you can understand the choice I offer you. You came to me for understanding. You wanted to understand this desire of yours for oblivion, for the destruction of yourself, for your sublimation into something larger. It is a common desire. Many wish to escape the burdens of self, the responsibility of being an agent. I can lead you to an understanding of that desire. Or I can help you achieve that desire. As you have seen, the control extends to even the most intimate of actions. There will be nothing I could not make you do. Eventually you would not even be conscious of doing it. Even the part of your ego that wanted what was happening to you would cease to exist.”

“If I did not know I was submitting, would I enjoy it?”

“Oh, the pleasure of submission will be quite real. But it will cease to be something that you want. It will simply be what you are.”

I made no reply. The magnitude of what the Doctor was offering me overwhelmed me. And frightened me. This was what I had said I had wanted for many years. And now it was there.

“It is a major decision, Peter.” He gestured at my glass. “You have not drunk much of your wine. I spiked your glass with a minor narcotic. It will help you relax and make the initial hypnosis easier. You will have to drink the entire glass for it to take effect, however. You need not make your choice this evening. But every time you visit, the glass of wine will be there, waiting for you to make a decision.”

I raised the glass of wine until it was level with my eyes. Within the heavy glass, the wine glowed dark red in the light from the fire. The flames were captured deep within it. Their dance beckoned me to join them.