I fucking hate my father. I know, he’s my own flesh and blood, I’ll always have a connection to him, but I hate him. It all started when I was 18, and decided not to go to college. My dad was always a big proponent of college, and ever since my mom left, it was college or leave. However, I showed Dad there could be a happy medium as I had a sizable income stream from my Patreon. Once I saved up enough money, I would move out and apply to jobs in the real world. He begrudgingly agreed, but added a counterpoint that I had to take one class at our local community college. I agreed, knowing that there were a bunch of cool and interesting courses to take.

One that caught my eye was “Hypnosis in the Real World”. An actual hypnotist would be teaching that class, and it guaranteed you would become a master hypnotist, or your next class at the college was free. I applied for that and also a personal finance course, so my dad would be happy. I arrived to my first day of class to find a wide variety of people. Apparently, there was no block on classroom size, but Prof. Legrande would weed them out on the first day. I learned my first lesson, that to be a good hypnotist, you had to be susceptible to it yourself. I was, and along with about 30 other people, remained in the class.

Legrande spent the first few classes explaining the basics and working on our resistance to hypnosis. It was actually quite easy, and by the time a third of the course had gone by, the professor couldn’t hypnotize us anymore. The rest of the class was where we got into the real juicy stuff. We learned how to hypnotize through our eyes, our voice, and even what we write. I ate it all up, knowing what my endgame was going to be. I was excited when I passed the course at the end of the semester, hypnotizing the registrar into giving me an A.

That winter break, I decided to put my skills to the ultimate test. I knew that eye-based hypnosis would never work, and my father had no desire to read through a massive wall of text. The longest book he ever read was an interesting thread on Twitter. So, I knew that voice was my only option, and left a convincing voicemail that would bring my dad under completely. The overarching theme was that I was in an accident, I was all right, yadda yadda yadda. However, when I arrived home safe and sound later that night, my dad was waiting for me in the hallway, like I asked.

“Hello, Master Dean. How may I serve you today?”

“Daddybot should strip naked in the hallway right now.”

“Yes, Master.” I had hypnotized him to only respond to Daddybot, a secret fetish of mine. I watched as he stripped down to nothing. I had seen in his underwear before, but he only wore loose boxers, so I never got to see the dick my father was packing. I can see why Mom chose him, with those massive balls and sizable dick.

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