Remote Control (Patreon)

The low murmur of the game played in the background, the commentator’s voice blending with the occasional roar of the crowd. Tyrone sat back on the couch, one leg resting over the other, wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans. Tim sat a bit closer than he normally would’ve, but it didn’t feel strange. Not at first.

“Man, it’s been too long since we chilled like this,” Tyrone said, reaching for the beer on the table. His voice was relaxed, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned back, his body loosening up after the long week.

Tim nodded, eyes on the screen but mind clearly elsewhere. “Yeah, bro, feels good to catch up. Been way too long.” He stretched his arms, his shirt lifting just slightly, exposing the hard lines of his abs beneath. His glance flickered toward Tyrone for just a second, quick, subtle. “You comfortable?” His tone was casual, almost too casual.

Tyrone raised an eyebrow, but shrugged it off. “Yeah, I’m good. You?” He took a swig of the beer, turning back toward the game, letting the familiar banter carry on.

Tim’s eyes stayed on Tyrone a little longer than before, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “It’s kinda warm in here, don’t you think?” He tugged at his collar slightly, like it was sticking to him.

Tyrone looked around, brow furrowing. “Yeah, maybe a little. You want me to crack a window or somethin’?”

“Nah, we don’t need that,” Tim said quickly, leaning forward and picking up the remote. “You good, though. Don’t need to get up for anything.” He pointed the remote at the screen, flicking through a few channels briefly before landing back on the game. “I’ll take care of it.”

There was a brief flicker in the TV screen, almost like static. Tyrone blinked, his eyes drawn to the way the pixels shimmered for a moment. “Huh. TV’s actin’ funny.”

Tim gave a nonchalant shrug, leaning back on the couch, his hand brushing the remote again. “It’s probably nothing. Just a small glitch.” He glanced sideways, noticing the way Tyrone was rubbing the back of his neck, like a slight tension was starting to creep in. “You should chill, man. Let it go. It’s just a game. Relax.”

Tyrone chuckled, leaning back again, though something about the way Tim said it made his muscles loosen a bit too much. He blinked, feeling the heat of the room press down on him. “Yeah, you right,” he muttered, letting his eyes focus back on the screen, the game barely registering anymore.

Another flicker. The screen pulsed briefly, and Tyrone felt his thoughts slow, almost like wading through thick water. His hand slid down to his lap, unconsciously adjusting himself, the movement slow, lazy. “Damn, maybe I do need to cool off,” he mumbled, his voice already sounding distant to his own ears.

Tim’s grin grew, but he hid it well. “That’s it, man. Just get comfortable. You don’t need to worry about anything. Just... keep watching.”

Tyrone’s eyes flickered, trying to focus on the screen, but the game wasn’t making sense anymore. The players moved in slow motion, the sounds distant. His limbs felt heavy, his head lolling slightly as the room seemed to grow warmer. “Yeah... watchin’,” he murmured.

Tim leaned in just slightly, his voice lowering, softer now, almost like a whisper. “You trust me, right?”

Tyrone nodded, though the gesture was sluggish. “Yeah, man... of course...”

“Good.” Tim’s hand rested on Tyrone’s thigh, just for a moment, firm, grounding. His touch lingered before pulling back, the small action sending a shiver through Tyrone’s skin. “Then let me take care of things. You just sit back and enjoy the game. Let your mind drift.”

Tyrone’s eyes were glassy now, barely focused on the flickering TV. He nodded again, slower this time, his breath evening out. “Yeah... drift...”

Tim’s smile was sharper now, though his voice stayed smooth, calm. “That’s it... you don’t need to think. I got you.”

With a soft click, Tim set the remote down, satisfied as Tyrone sank deeper into the couch, his body going slack, the game forgotten as the TV continued its silent pulse.

Tyrone's breathing had deepened, slow and rhythmic, his chest rising and falling as his eyes stayed fixed on the screen. The colors blurred together, the game nothing more than a distant hum, background noise that no longer registered. His fingers flexed slightly at his sides, but he didn’t move.

Tim watched him, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. The control was his now—Tyrone’s body a puppet, waiting to respond to his every subtle pull of the strings. He leaned in just a bit closer, his hand resting lightly on Tyrone's thigh again, the warmth of his skin seeping through the denim.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Tim’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it slid into Tyrone's mind like silk. “Everything slowing down... all that tension melting away.”

Tyrone swallowed, his lips parting slightly, a faint murmur escaping, but he couldn’t form the words. His mind floated, detached, the heat of the room and the pull of the TV combining, locking him in place. “Yeah... feels good...” His voice was barely a breath, like the words weren’t his own.

Tim smiled, fingers tracing small circles on Tyrone’s leg, his touch light but intentional. “You don’t need to think about anything, man. Just let yourself relax. Deeper.” His voice held an edge now, commanding, though still wrapped in that smooth tone.

Tyrone’s head tilted back slightly, his neck muscles loosening, his body slumping deeper into the couch. His eyes were glazed over, lost in the pulse of the flickering light, the TV’s glow dancing across his skin. “Deeper... yeah...”

Tim’s hand slid up slowly, brushing against the hem of Tyrone’s shirt, his fingers grazing the fabric. “You’re getting warm, aren’t you? Feels too hot in here with all these clothes.”

Tyrone blinked, a slow, deliberate motion, as if trying to shake off the fog clouding his thoughts. But the weight pressed down harder, dragging him further under. “Yeah... warm...” His hands twitched at his sides, almost like his body was responding before his mind could catch up.

Tim’s fingers hooked under the edge of Tyrone’s shirt, tugging just slightly. “Why don’t you get comfortable? Take that off. You don’t need it right now.”

There was no hesitation. Tyrone’s hands moved, sluggish but obedient, fingers gripping the hem of his shirt as he slowly pulled it over his head, the fabric sliding off his toned chest. He tossed it aside, his breathing still deep and steady. His bare skin shimmered under the dim light, muscles relaxed, every movement slow, deliberate, like he wasn’t fully aware of what he was doing.

Tim’s smirk widened, eyes roaming over Tyrone’s exposed chest. “Good... that’s better, isn’t it?” His fingers danced lightly over Tyrone’s skin now, brushing across his shoulder, trailing down over the hard lines of his pecs. The control was so effortless, so complete, it sent a thrill through him.

Tyrone’s lips parted, his head falling back further, a soft sigh escaping as Tim’s fingers moved over him. “Yeah... better...” His voice sounded distant, like he was speaking from the bottom of a deep well.

Tim leaned in closer, his breath warm against Tyrone’s ear. “You don’t need to worry about anything now. Just keep sinking deeper. Just listen to me.”

Tyrone nodded, the motion slow, his muscles slack. “Listen...” His hand slid unconsciously down to his waistband, fingers grazing the button of his jeans. His mind floated somewhere far away, completely under Tim’s control now.

Tim’s smile sharpened as he watched Tyrone move, his body responding without thought. “Good... now take those off too. No need for them anymore.”

Tyrone’s hands moved on autopilot, fingers deftly unbuttoning his jeans, the sound of the zipper loud in the quiet room. He lifted his hips just slightly, sliding them down over his thighs, the denim pooling at his feet. Now nearly naked, only his boxers clung to his hips, his powerful legs stretched out in front of him, muscles flexing in the soft light.

Tim sat back for a moment, admiring his work, the slow unraveling of control he’d spent all night setting into motion. Tyrone was his now, fully under, completely unaware of the depth of his submission.

The TV hummed in the background, its flickering glow casting shadows over Tyrone’s body as Tim’s hand rested possessively on his leg again, his touch firmer now, claiming. “You’re doing great, Tyrone. Just let go... let me take care of everything.”

Tyrone’s head lolled to the side, eyes half-closed, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “Yeah... take care...” He was lost, completely, his body no longer his own.

Tim grinned, satisfied as the pace continued to rise, slowly, steadily, the night only just beginning.

Tyrone’s chest rose and fell slowly, his breathing shallow, his body completely at ease. The room was warm, his skin flushed, and his jeans now lay discarded on the floor, leaving him sitting in nothing but his boxers. The light from the TV flickered across his bare muscles, casting shadows that danced over his skin, but his eyes remained unfocused, locked in place.

Tim sat close, his hand never leaving Tyrone’s thigh, fingers brushing up and down with a steady rhythm, like he was testing just how far under Tyrone had sunk. The game on the screen was forgotten, a mere backdrop to the control Tim had now, the real focus unfolding in the room itself.

“Look at you...” Tim murmured, voice soft but sharp enough to cut through Tyrone’s hazy mind. “So calm. So deep. You don’t even need to think, do you?”

Tyrone’s head rolled to the side, lips barely parting as a faint moan slipped from his throat. “Don’t need... to think...” The words came automatically, his body completely slack, muscles softened by the trance. His fingers twitched slightly in his lap, his hand resting close to his waistband, almost like his body knew what was coming next, even if his mind didn’t.

Tim’s eyes narrowed, his grin widening as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against Tyrone’s neck. His hand slid further up Tyrone’s thigh now, edging toward the waistband of his boxers, his touch slow and deliberate. “You’re doing so well, Tyrone. Just let yourself go. Let your body do what it wants.”

Tyrone exhaled, a low, shaky sound, his head tilting back against the couch, eyes half-closed. “Yeah... let go...” His body responded, hips shifting slightly, a subtle arching motion as the heat pooled between his legs. His mind was gone, completely passive, floating in the fog of the trance. But his body—the parts still aware of sensation—started to stir, following the commands Tim hadn’t even needed to say yet.

Tim’s grin deepened as he watched the faint movements, the slow awakening of Tyrone’s arousal. “That’s it...” His hand slid up Tyrone’s chest now, fingers brushing over the leather straps, feeling the taut muscles beneath. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Tyrone’s lips parted again, a small sound escaping—somewhere between a groan and a breath. “Yeah... feels good...” His hand twitched again, moving just slightly closer to his own cock, still half-covered by the thin fabric of his boxers, but already swelling beneath the soft material.

Tim’s hand moved to Tyrone’s shoulder now, gripping it firmly, feeling the heat radiate off his skin. His voice lowered, more commanding now. “You want more, don’t you? You need to get rid of those last pieces, Tyrone.”

Tyrone blinked slowly, his eyelids heavy, and his hands moved before his mind could catch up. Fingers gripped the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down in one slow motion, exposing the full length of his cock. It sprang free, thick and hard, resting against his muscular thighs. His breath hitched slightly, but his eyes stayed glazed, unfocused, as if the action was just another part of the trance pulling him deeper.

Tim’s eyes darkened with satisfaction as he looked at Tyrone—fully exposed now, completely under his control. “You’re perfect like this.” His hand moved again, this time brushing over Tyrone’s cock with the faintest touch, testing the reaction.

Tyrone shuddered, a low moan escaping his throat, his hips arching slightly at the contact. But he didn’t move on his own. He couldn’t. His body was pliant, a vessel for Tim’s control, waiting for the next command.

Tim leaned back slightly, admiring his work, his hand now resting possessively on Tyrone’s chest, tracing the straps again. His voice was still low, controlled. “You belong to me now. Don’t you, Tyrone?”

Tyrone’s head lolled to the side, his eyes half-lidded, lips parting as he breathed out, “Yeah... yours...” The words were automatic, a reflection of the absolute control Tim had over him. His cock twitched slightly, already aching from the lack of movement, but Tyrone remained still, his muscles locked in place, waiting for whatever Tim would tell him next.

Tim grinned, pleased, his fingers brushing over Tyrone’s hard cock again, just enough to keep him on edge without giving him relief. “Good. Just stay like that... let me take care of everything.”

Tyrone’s body melted further into the couch, his hand resting on his cock now, but he didn’t move. Couldn’t move. His mind was so far gone that all he could do was obey, waiting for Tim’s next touch, his next word. His breathing slowed again, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as the trance deepened even further, his entire body surrendered to the man beside him.

Tim sat back, satisfied, his hand moving to rest casually over Tyrone’s shoulder as if the moment was just another natural progression of the night. His fingers drummed lightly, watching as Tyrone’s cock throbbed in his grip, but the man himself stayed passive, fully submerged in the hypnotic state.

The dog lay at the edge of the couch, barely glancing up, unaware of the power shift that had taken place in the room. The game was long forgotten, the TV’s soft hum the only sound, flickering light casting shadows over their skin.

Tim leaned back in, fingers brushing over Tyrone’s jaw, pulling his head to rest against his shoulder as the night crept further on. The images on the TV flickered again, and Tyrone’s eyes glazed even more, completely lost in the trance, his body now an extension of Tim’s will.

“Just like that...” Tim murmured, satisfied as he watched Tyrone settle deeper into him, his mind and body fully under, the game nothing but static in the background as the night unfolded.