Hypnosis Stories

Pietro's True Colors

I think you guys know my math teacher by now. Pietro Boselli? Does that name ring a bell? It probably does, especially since he’s transitioned over to modeling and working out, mostly. However, he still comes back and teaches an advanced math class every semester, the same class I’m talking. I’ll admit, it’s fucking hard to pay attention when you’re rock hard seconds after walking into the classroom. And Pietro, that cocky fuck, likes to show off his body. His shirts are always tight and revealing his massive biceps and eight pack of abs, and his pants highlight his bubble butt and accentuate his bulge. 

Because I can’t pay attention in his class, Pietro had called me in for private office hours. If I could still get hard seeing him like that in front of a bunch of strangers, I dreaded what would actually happen in a one-on-one session! I tried to keep my eyes down and avert my gaze from his spectacular body, but it was no use. I left the meeting with my bag awkwardly hiding my massive erection and somehow knowing less than what I came in with! 

I needed this course to graduate, and of course, Pietro was the only one teaching it, no matter when I would take it. My counselor told me to just suck it up and try to focus on the lessons, but when you literally see your teacher flex as he reaches to the top of the board, there’s a fucking problem. I was looking for a solution for my problem online. Fuck, I would even transfer colleges if it meant I could pass this course! But as I searched Pietro’s name, a number of interesting links kept popping up. 

They kept calling my teacher a himbo. I wasn’t sure exactly what it meant, but considering the way it was spelled, it probably meant a male bimbo. I was proven right after reading some articles. All of them talked about how Pietro had the look of a himbo, a ripped body, a supple bubble butt, and even a goofy face at times! However, he didn’t have one of the biggest hallmarks of a himbo: being dumb. Pietro sometimes acted dumb, but everyone knew he could also do advanced calculus in his head. I was one of the very few people in the world with direct access to him, and knew that I could turn him into a dumb himbo, just like he was supposed to be. 

There were a number of methods to make a person dumber. I shied away from the more extreme ones, like a lobotomy. However, the more and more I read about hypnosis, the more it piqued my interest. This could probably fucking work! I even found a perfect hypnosis tape online. It was masked as an audio tape to help you learn the same calculus Pietro taught, but it actually would make the listener so dumb that they didn’t even know how to spell calculus! 

I brought up the tape at our next one-on-one session. “Professor Boselli, can you listen to this tape for me? It says that it can help me learn the stuff you’re teaching, and I’m an auditory learner anyways.”

“Sure thing, Jacques. I’ll listen to it later today and email you what I think about it.” I couldn’t hide my grin as I walked out of his office. I didn’t know when Pietro would listen to it, but I would know if he did. There was a trigger word I could say to activate his himbo programming. I, of course, didn’t listen to the tape myself, but I read the transcription of the audio. It started off with some information about the calculus, but the transcription also had a running subliminal message portion which showed what Pietro was really absorbing. Eventually, it became more and more overt hypnosis, which would dumb Pietro down and turn him into the true himbo he was meant to be. 

The next evening, Pietro and I had a rare meeting outside of work. We were both attending the opening of an art exhibit by one of the other professors on campus. We did our separate things until our paths finally crossed. “Jacques, nice to see you here!”

“Piccolo,” I said, as I took my phone out of my phone. The non-sequitur was actually Pietro’s trigger word, and as he pulled up his shirt to showcase his abs, I started recording.

The dumb professor pulled his shirt up high enough to showcase his pecs as well. “Me hot!” he announced, with a dumb grin on his face. 

“Why not just take your shirt off?” I asked, with a smirk on my face. 

“Okay! Me take shirt off! Me no like shirt!” I watched as my professor ripped his shirt off, much to the shock of the other distinguished members of the faculty around him. Before security started to descend upon him, I uttered one final command: “Strip down to your birthday suit.” I quickly distanced myself from Pietro and mingled with my other classmates. None of them said a word to me. All eyes were on Pietro now. He had unzipped his pants and was slowly pulling them down, revealing the fact he wore tight briefs, showcasing his massive bulge. 

Security did tackle him to the ground, but not before he freed his cock from its underwear cage and showed it off to the crowd of people watching him. Pietro was arrested, but released on his own recognizance, even though now, he could barely pronounce the word. I kept tabs on my now ex-professor, and watched as his life became one of a true himbo, posting thirst traps to social media without any captions, and fucking non-stop. No one ever did say the trigger word again to Pietro, the one that would revert him back into the hot, but very smart, professor I once knew. 

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