Robbie is driving along a lonely country road and can’t resist pressing the pedal to the metal. But just as he really starts getting into the fast life, the red and blue lights of a police car fill his rearview mirror. He’s pulled over for speeding. His day is ruined. Worse, the cop seems to know Robbie is gay and has a problem with it.
Right when Robbie would normally roll over and pretend none of this his happening, something snaps in him. No longer does he want to be the passive one who just puts up with all the homophobia directed his way. No, today is the day he exacts his revenge.
He embarks on a risky move, hypnotizing the straight cop. Right when it seems like his plan fails and he’s about to get a beating from this macho cop, it seems that he actually succeeds. This macho alpha cop is completely under his control, giving Robbie the opportunity to take him down a few pegs and to get back at the cop for his homophobia.
Hypnotizing the Straight Cop is a 4,700-word short story.
I bite my lip, nervous with indecision. Looking in the mirror again, I catch the cop look up at me again from the seat of his car. Despite his mirrored sunglasses, the look of disgust is clear. Yeah, he’s a fag. He’s probably sucked more cock than me — probably taken more loads up the ass too. I can’t stand those two-faced homophobes who secretly have an insatiable desire for cock. Either own up to it or fuck off.
My cheeks are burning hot again, but now with anger. Fuck. I pick up my phone and dig through the links I have bookmarked. Near the bottom of the list is the hypno soundtrack that worked the best on my ex. I look in the mirror one more time, weighing whether or not to actually try this. I catch him glaring at me once more before getting out of his car — and I also take a moment to ensure that he is, indeed, alone — and I decide that I’m fucking doing this.
I hit the link, then start the audio track that pops up. I place my phone on my dash, pointing the speakers toward where the cop will be standing. A loud droning noise fills the car. A moment later, that perfect view of his crotch happens again. Then he bends over. He’s about to say something, but then he eyes my phone.
“Turn that off,” he says, command clear in his voice.
“Listen to it … it’s soothing … it’s calming…”
“I said turn that fucking thing off.”
My heart suddenly beats at something like three times the speed, hammering against my ribs. This is the do-or-die moment.
“Listen to the sound of my voice …