Westley was the type of hot entitled prick that didn’t know just how good he had it, having always come from a life of privilege. His attitude was more than apparent to Joziah when he had brought in his luxury sports car to the shop. Joziah had his way of dealing with such jerks that involved sabotaging their sound system so that only his special recordings would play when the vehicle drove. One couldn’t switch from satellite to local radio or simply turn the radio off – if the car was on, the special music was playing. The offending client would call in demanding the service be fixed for free – “it was fine until I brought it to you!” Joziah would agree, but claim to be backed up for at least a week and since a radio wasn’t a life-threatening emergency would apologize and offer additional services on the house to make up for the delay. They were never happy at first, but by the time they brought the vehicle in, they wanted to know how they could still choose to listen to the catchy beats if they so desired. They also would often end up giving into a newfound lust for the mechanic, providing him with a steady stream of blowjobs from snobs he loved seeing down on their knees – a position they would love to take for minorities going forward, regardless of what their orientation had been before. But every once in a while, when the person was a complete classist and usually also racist jerk, he liked to take the programming even further.
This was the case with Westley, who found himself craving not just Joziah’s cock but his whole lifestyle. All the perks he had from his live as an executive suddenly started to seem hollow compared to the value of getting to work with one’s hands. The idea of getting down and dirty was being programmed into his subconscious in more ways than one, and the suggestions were definitely taking hold. At the office, he found it harder and harder to concentrate on the business deals that increasingly bored him, wanting instead to get online and watch stock car races. Westley certainly had a tendency to speed before, but he never truly appreciated the rush one could get from the world of autos. He was beginning to crave the different smells of the environment – the sweaty musk of a man working hard, the grease and oil representing manly pastimes. His business suits felt more and more constricting – he envied having seen Joziah in his loose orange jumpsuit that looked so comfortable. By the time he brought his vehicle in to be fixed, he had started wearing the basics meant to be worn under such a jumpsuit. “You’re, uh, looking a bit skimpy in the pants department today, buddy,” Joziah joshed as the athletic former exec responded: “I quit my job today and thought maybe you’d let me try on a jumpsuit? I think I need to wear one.” Joziah smiled at the man’s admission, knowing his programming had worked. That smile led Westley to think with his dick as he went in for a kiss.
Wade was the type of straight bloke that thought calling someone a cocksucker was the most hilarious of insults – yeah, he wasn’t too bright to begin with. All of which made it all the easier for Me to start secretly programming him when I saw him at the same gym. I was buddies with a lot of the staff there, and they easily agreed to let me swap out some of the music that played there. Slowly but surely, I had been getting in his mind while also slowly “befriending” him, offering at first just to help spot him during some lifts. Finally, I had the courage to ask him over to “watch the game.”
“There’ll be other folks there too, right? This ain’t just some excuse to try and get me to suck your cock or somethin’, is it?” My hypnosis had helped him to accept my sexuality when I told him, but obviously he still had a ways to go at that point. “Nah man, there’ll be a few of us,” I lied. “Just drinkin’ beer and watchin’ pigskin like bros do.” When he arrived, I said that the one that was picking up the others had gotten a flat on his way, but they’d arrive soon.
Thankfully, the chance to program him in person as I put a spiral up on the TV allowed me to adjust his memories so that he left feeling as if he’d enjoyed a nice day of drinking beer with buds – something that would then become a weekly tradition. I always DVR’d the game so he at least saw the end – all the better to convince him he’d seen the whole thing.
Each week, I took things just a bit further – things like convincing him it was hot so let’s watch the game with our shirts off, progressing until being nude around each other seemed perfectly normal to him. I suggested that when we did watch the bits of the real game, he focused on how amazing those athletes looked with all that muscle and under all that gear. But most of all, as had been my plan all along, I slowly started to instill inside of him a desire to suck cock. Now, unaware of how programmed he already was, he had asked – seemingly of his own free will, as far he was concerned – to use my shower. A shower where I knew he would see the dildo I had left out. “Dude, what the hell is this?”