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Transformation of Kyle, The
Meet Kyle Walker
|Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction depicting gay sex. If reading such material is offensive to you, or if you are under the legal age to read such material, please read something else. Also, hypnosis can be a wonderful, beneficial thing, if used correctly and morally. Trying to use hypnosis in the manner described herein is immoral. If you want to make this a reality, seek professional help; of course, being immoral isn't always a bad thing.
Author's Note: This is my first piece in this genre of writing. It is dedicated to Reaver, Changes, SoxnTies, Ryan Bruin and other authors who have inspired me, and provided me with many hours of pleasurable self-indulgence. Thank you gentlemen for your "stimulation." While there is no sex in these two chaptesr, there will be in upcumming ones. These two chapters are mainly for set up purposes.
|Kyle Walker sat at the end of the bar alone, again. It was a Friday night, and while the bar was crowded, Kyle managed to find the sole secluded spot in the place. While other patrons around him mingled, danced and basically enjoyed themselves, he sat on his stool, sipping his Jack and Coke.
"This stool taken?" a voice asked.
"Huh?" Kyle replied, shaken out of his own little world.
"I asked if I could sit here," the stranger replied.
"Go ahead, free country I guess."
"Name's Brock, Brock Evens," the stranger said as he extended his hand.
Kyle was slightly taken aback. He looked at his companion, and really looked at him for the first time. He was tall, about 6' 1", with spiked blond hair. His crystal clear, ice-blue eyes were simply stunning. Brock had a sharp, well-defined jaw line. His ears were multiply pierced on both ears. But the most stunning thing about him had to be his smile. His white teeth gleamed iridescently beneath his million-dollar, movie star smile.
Realizing that he was staring, Kyle quickly broke his gaze and grasped Brock's hand in his own. "Kyle, Kyle Walker," he said.
"What's your story?" Brock asked Kyle.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, what's a cute guy like yourself doing, sitting alone at a packed bar, on a Friday night?"
Kyle was taken by surprise. This guy, who could be a model for Abercrombie and Fitch, was flirting with him. This was too much for Kyle to take. Despite the fact that Kyle was cute, he didn't consider himself so. The whole modesty thing was no act, and while it was a turn on to some guys, almost everyone thought it really was. People would wonder how this handsome, young man could be so clueless to not know how hot he was.
"Oh, I don't know," Kyle replied, "Actually, I was just thinking about leaving."
"Did I say or do something wrong?" Brock asked concerned.
"No, it's just that... Well, it's just that this really isn't my scene."
"Really? Come on, live a little. Let's dance!" Brock said as he tried to pry off Kyle from his stool.
"Why me?" Kyle asked as he pushed Brock away.
"Huh?" Brock asked.
"I mean, there are a hundred guys out there tonight, most of whom look a lot better then I do. Why single me out?"
"I don't know," Brock replied, "I guess I just saw a hot guy, sitting alone at a bar, and I approached him, because he looked like he needed some company."
"Oh, I just come on to you, and all I get is an 'Oh'," Brock said as he winked.
Gosh, Kyle thought, he is gorgeous. Maybe he's right. Maybe for once, I SHOULD live a little. I mean, he is right. I was feeling lonely. Ever since Dallas, I've been moping around.
"OK," Kyle said.
"OK what?" Brock inquired.
"How about this," Brock broke interrupted, "let's get out of here, and get acquainted with each other. I know a great coffee house near here that serves a killer Mocha Latte."
"OK," Kyle answered as he wondered what he had gotten himself into.
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