The Coffee Shop Pt. 05

I closed the door and locked it. I spent the next few hours watching a few DVDs before heading off to bed. I didn't feel much inclined to do anything else. My butt was sore from my first riding lesson, and I had a badly sprained ankle to deal with.

I thought about what Andy had said to me before he left. Andy considered me to be a 'real cowboy' even if I didn't know how to ride, yet. Andy had opened the door to a part of his life, his world, and was offering to share it with me. I felt like I had been given a very special gift. I missed Andy fiercely, and was slightly sad that he couldn't spend the night with me. I was comforted though, by the thoughts, hopes and dreams of a bright future and a lifelong marriage with Andy. It would be enough to see me through the night and the hours ahead until I could hold Andy in my arms once more. My last thought was of the memory I had seeing Andy mounted on Blizzard, the both of them silhouetted against the setting sun. I feel asleep with a smile on my lips.



Chapter 12 Hat Trick.


The next week at work was typical, expect for my having to explain why I was using crutches. A few people looked at me a bit strangely when I said it happened while I was learning how to ride a horse. The soreness in my butt had gone by Monday, fortunately, so I wasn't walking around strangely. The next weekend I came back to the riding ranch for my next riding lesson on Rusty. My ankle was back to normal and I was able to wear cowboy boots. It was a relief to be able to return the crutches to Doc. Andy was busy giving lessons in the morning, so I had plenty of time to take care of the 'little favour' that Mister Carson had asked me to do for him. (Have you ever noticed that the more the favour is described as insignificant, the more complicated it turns out to be?) I didn't think it was going to be a problem, but I wasn't really looking forward to it. I didn't know if the cowboy I was going to talk with was handsome or butt ugly, not that it really mattered. Mind you, if he was handsome, it would be an unexpected bonus.

"So where is the cowboy that I'm supposed to talk with, Cody?" I asked as I walked along the dirt road towards the bunkhouses that were located well behind the riding barns. Mister Carson had not yet mentioned the cowboys' name, which I thought was rather odd. When I had talked with Mister Carson earlier in the office he had elaborated somewhat on the anger problems that the ranch hand was having but nothing beyond that. Cody had been in the office with Mister Carson and me, but Cody had not said anything.

"He's probably in the bunkhouse. Mister Carson told him to meet us there," Cody answered as he walked next to me. "Are you sure you're up to this?"

"You heard what Lee, Mister Carson to you, said. He asked me to see if I can help this rough and tumble cowboy to mend his ways around the other ranch hands," I answered. It was odd that Cody had not mentioned the cowboy's name either. It was nearly 10:00 AM, but the morning was still cool. I found the walk with Cody to be enjoyable. It would have been a heck of a lot more fun if he was walking in front of me, and he was wearing those tight jeans he always wore. Here at the ranch though, where he worked, he dressed for comfort and practical reasons, not to show off his assets. I switched my train of thought off of that unproductive track and back to the matter at hand.

"I don't think you know what you are getting yourself into. This guy is not the most reasonable man, even when he's in a good mood. Today, he's as mean as a junk yard dog," Cody said, looking at me as if I had lost my mind.

"Is there anything else I should know about this guy, like his name perhaps?" I asked Cody as we walked on down the dirt path.

"Mister Carson said that I'm not supposed to tell you," Cody said stubbornly.

"Why the heck not? Why all the secrecy?" I asked puzzled.

"He just told me not to tell you. I don't know why, exactly," Cody answered with a shrug of his shoulders. I wasn't going to get any more information from Cody, so I decided to drop the matter.

I looked at Cody as he walked next to me. He didn't seem nervous, or uncomfortable. He looked very sexy, even in his work clothes, but now was not the time for that. Cody was at work, and I had a job to do.

We went to the bunkhouse farthest from the barns. Cody led the way into the bunkhouse, which oddly enough had all the curtains drawn on the closed windows. We had privacy, even though the room was a bit stuffy. I forgot such minor things as the discomfort of a stuffy room when Cody led me to a specific bed in the bunkhouse.


A cowboy was sitting on the bed. He stood up as we approached him, and looked about the room to see if anyone else was present. He was a tall good looking cowboy, with a slim build. His light blue jeans fit him very well. (Yes, dear reader, the first thing I look at is how well the jeans or pants fit on a man. I'm a butt man, what can I say?) A plain light green cowboy shirt was tucked into the jeans. Around his waist was a light brown leather western belt, with a big shiny cowboy belt buckle fasten on the front. The cowboy belt buckle was an unadorned plain silver oval. A quick glance down showed that the cowboy was wearing a pair of light brown cowboy boots, covered in dust. This was a working cowboy, not a fashion model.

I lifted my eyes and studied the face before me that appeared beneath the off white well worn straw cowboy hat that was sitting on top of this handsome head. When the cowboy had looked about the room earlier, I had noticed his red hair was cut very short, at least at the back and sides. A pair of deep green eyes looked back at me, as I studied the cowboy. He appeared to be a young man whose clean shaven face was just starting to mature, which suggested he was in his late twenties. He had a strong jaw, which framed his overall good looks. His nose and mouth were in proper proportion to the rest of his handsome face. I would have dated him in a minute, if he was gay, and if I was not already involved and committed with Andy. I suspected that when this man smiled, women (and probably any gay man in the vicinity) melted.

"This is Wyatt, Mister Walton. He's the cowboy that Mister Carson was telling you about," Cody said by way of introduction.

"Pleased to meet you, Wyatt," I said to him while holding out my right hand.

Wyatt looked at me, and then down at the hand I offered. "Let's just get this over with, greenhorn," he snapped back at me. "I've got work to do."

"Mister Carson has given you the rest of the morning off, so that you'd be able to spend time talking to Mister Walton. Mister Carson does not want to see your face outside this bunkhouse until after 1 P.M. Is that clear?" Cody barked at Wyatt. I was mildly surprised at the harsh tone Cody used. I wisely kept my mouth shut.

"It's clear," Wyatt snapped back at Cody.

"I'll leave the two of you alone then," Cody said to us. Cody turned about and walked out of the room without a further word. I turned and looked at Cody's retreating back, wondering what the heck I had gotten myself into this time. I seemed to have a knack for getting into troublesome situations. Oddly enough my mental danger alarms were not going off. If Wyatt was going to be a threat to me, it wasn't going to be in the form of a mental attack. I turned my attention back to Wyatt as Cody closed the door firmly behind him as he left.

"Well?" Wyatt snapped at me after a few seconds of silence. .

"Well what?" I asked him, slightly confused at the open hostility he was showing towards me.

"Well, are you going to get started or are we just gonna stand here and stare at each other all morning?" Wyatt asked his voice started to become heated.


"Whether or not you like me, or you like what Mister Carson is forcing you to do with me, is beside the point," I answered keeping my voice calm. "Mister Carson asked me to offer my help to you, and that is exactly what I intend to do. I must admit I am surprised at you, though. The least you could do is offer me the common courtesy of shaking my hand when I offered it to you." I looked at him sternly.

He looked back at me, as if he was not sure I was for real. He sighed and held out his hand to me. "Fine. Let's shake hands, then," he said.

"Pleased to meet you, Wyatt. My name is Paul, by the way," I said as I took a firm grip on his hand, and shook it firmly. As soon as I had a firm grip on his hand, I launched a mental probe into his mind, and searched for some type of mental contact. As I had hoped, it took very little effort on my part to make silent mental contact with his mind. I blinked a few times as I did a full scan of his mind. I had only few seconds to get as much information as possible. I could spare only part of my attention on what he was saying.

"Yeah, right," Wyatt grunted at me as he shook my hand. He wasn't giving an inch, but what he didn't know is that I had already wormed my way past his mental defences. In only a few heartbeats I knew that his tough guy, aggressive stance was an blind he put up to hide how he really felt and what he really thought about himself. There was something beyond that point, some deep secret he was hiding, but I didn't have time right now to do a deep scan of his mind. Time permitting, a deep scan of his mind would have been rude in the extreme, not to mention invasive. Yes, there are times when I will probe a person's mind without their permission, but now was not the time to think about that. I now knew that I would be able to help Wyatt curb his aggression. The trick would be to bring all this out in normal conversation, and hypnosis, without making it look like I had special powers and could read his mind. (Yes, dear reader, that is exactly what was happening, but I couldn't let him know that, nor even leave the most remote clue of that fact. The conventions of the Council of Coins were clear in my mind, and I had to abide by them, even if they seemed to get in the way a lot.) Quickly I inserted a few mental commands into Wyatt's open mind. 'When I mention the subject of hypnosis, you will find the idea to be interesting. When I explain to you how hypnosis works you will feel that you want to try it with me. When I start to hypnotize you the suggestions will take effect easily and effortlessly. You will enjoy being hypnotized by me. You will enjoy greatly everything that happens to you once you are hypnotized.' That should cover all the bases and let me have some fun with Wyatt, if there was time. Now I had to begin.

"How about we sit down to talk, Wyatt?" I said amiably as I looked around the room for a chair, and letting go of Wyatt's hand.

"Yeah, I guess so. I'll sit on the bed and you can sit on the chair," Wyatt agreed reluctantly.

The man could teach stubbornness to a mule. I sighed silently to myself as I walked over and got a chair from across the room. I placed the chair a couple of feet away from Wyatt, as he was sitting on the right side of the bed. A few nasty thoughts popped into my head, that had to do with the bed, Wyatt, and some ropes lying about the room that I'd noticed when I went to get the chair. I pushed those thoughts aside, for later. I had other more important, if less erotic, things to deal with.

"Did Mister Carson mention any details regarding what he wants us to take about?" I inquired hoping to get a conversation started.

"Nope. He just said I had to talk to you for a couple of hours, otherwise he'd let me go," Wyatt said with a sneer.

Great! Just great! I thought to myself. No wonder Wyatt's so reluctant to work with me. He sees me as some kind of threat to his job.


"Whatever we decide to talk about, stays between us, Wyatt. It does not go beyond this room. I do not report anything that happens in this room to Mister Carson," I said. "Of course you have no proof that I'm telling you the truth. You don't have to trust me, but I am asking you to trust me. The only thing I was told is that you tend to get angry a lot. Mister Carson thought I might be able to teach you some ways you can better control your anger, instead of letting it control you."

"Yeah, right. You have some type of magic wand you're gonna wave in front of me, and poof I'm cured?" Get real!' Wyatt sneered at me.

"You'd be surprised what can be accomplished with hypnosis and a willing subject," I replied.

"Hypnosis? That horse hockey? Man, you are one crazy fella. I ain't going fer none of that stuff. No way you're gonna make me cluck like a chicken," Wyatt declared firmly.

'What was it about cowboys and hypnosis, where they always think you're going to make them cluck like a chicken?' I wondered to myself. "Hypnosis doesn't work that way, Wyatt. I can do nothing without your cooperation. If you don't want to be hypnotized you won't be. The best analogy I can offer you is this. Two people are in a car, the driver and the navigator. The driver wants to go from point A to point B. The navigator reads the map and tells the driver when to turn. The driver decides whether or not to follow the navigator's instructions. There has to be trust between the driver and the navigator so that they can both get from point A to point B. Think of the driver as the subject and the navigator as the hypnotist and that is how hypnosis works. The subject is always in control. The subject always has the option to say 'no' to any suggestion that the hypnotist gives him. If the subject is told to do something that goes against his basic morals or ethics, the subject will reject the suggestion. Really, that's all there is to it. Any questions?" I was certain that my little speech would trigger the mental commands that I'd recently implanted in Wyatt's mind. Wyatt's mind had felt open and malleable to my powers when I'd touched it earlier. He was definitely not 'gifted'.

"Yeah, I got one. No, make that two," Wyatt said the sneer still on his face.

"Shoot," I said with a slight smile.

"If what you say is true, why do people who go to one of them hypnosis shows act like idiots?" Wyatt asked.

That was a good sign. At least he was willing to talk about hypnosis. "A stage show hypnotist is looking for a specific type of subject, one who responds well to physical suggestion. As well, the people up on stage are told by the hypnotist that they won't remember what they do, and that they are going to feel great. This tends to help people to overcome their inhibitions and thus they think nothing of doing what they would normally consider to be crazy things," I answered. Of course I was talking about ordinary hypnosis, and not the super hypnosis that Wyatt was about to embark upon. "What was your other question?"

"If I'm in control as you say, and I just don't want to go under, why should we even bother wasting our time on this?" Wyatt asked, his voice just a tiny bit less hostile. He knew that he was in control of the situation, and thus he didn't have to be so defensive as he had been earlier.


"Because at the very least you will learn a way to relax yourself and calm yourself, when you feel pressured or angry," I told him. "I won't push anything on you that you don't want. I can't do that, since you're in control here. I'm just the guide. You can take or leave my suggestions as you see fit." There that should satisfy him.

"Hmmm....I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try and learn how to relax when I'm tense," Wyatt said after a few moments thought. A spark of anger flashed in his eyes as he continued speaking. "You try anything funny with me, and I'll knock you clear into next week!"

"Understood, Wyatt," I said calmly. 'Now to begin, please place your feet flat on the floor and rest your hands in your lap palms up. Sit up straight and make sure that you are comfortable sitting on the bed. Keep your eyes open and when you are set and ready to begin, let me know."

Wyatt shifted his body around until he had positioned himself as I had asked. He looked up at me silently for a few seconds, and blinked his eyes at me before he spoke. "Okay, I'm ready...bu...." Wyatt started to say, but his words were suddenly cut off as his eyes snapped shut, and his head felt forward. A half a second later his body crumpled and he toppled over on to his left side, as he collapsed onto the bed. Wyatt looked like he had just dropped into hypnosis, somewhat faster than I had expected. (Boy, was that an understatement!) He could be faking it though, considering his overall attitude, such a trick is what I would have expected from Wyatt, because he'd want to prove that he couldn't be hypnotized by me. There was one way to be sure. Carefully, I reach over and placed my right hand on Wyatt's left hand which had fallen down and was resting on the bed in front of Wyatt's body. I exerted my mental powers and scanned Wyatt's mind. I was delighted to discover that Wyatt was both very deeply hypnotized, and also happy to be in that state. He loved the idea of just letting go, being controlled and being told what to do. He was a closet submissive, which shouldn't have surprised me either, considering the effort he had put out to dominate our conversation. I smiled to myself and thought 'sometimes it is just that easy'.

I looked down at Wyatt's limp body, and I felt a stirring in my jeans, if you know what I mean. He was a damn sexy man in those snug, light blue jeans. My fingers ached to reach out and explore the front of his jeans and wander down to the crotch area. I wanted to explore the back of Wyatt's snug, light blue jeans too. It was so very tempting. I sighed once or twice, and then put a tight leash on my erotic impulses. I couldn't leave Wyatt like this, and I couldn't wake him back up either, at least not right now. If Wyatt knew that he'd dropped like a rock into hypnosis, it would most likely frighten him so much that I'd never be able to talk him into another session. I'd have to do some memory manipulation, and then continue on with a normal induction, so that Wyatt's surrender to my control would seem more natural and acceptable to him. It took me about a minute of careful thought to plan out what I would have to do with Wyatt before I woke him back up.

I projected my thoughts into Wyatt's mind. Working at the speed of thought, it took me only a few heartbeats to adjust Wyatt's memory so that when he woke up, he would remember only that I had just asked him to sit up straight on the bed and tell me when he was ready to begin. I instructed him to sit up and position himself exactly had he was just before his eyes started to close. Wyatt immediately raised his body up on the bed and positioned himself exactly has he had been before. Following my mental commands, he kept his eyes closed. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and looked about for a second. He spotted his cowboy hat lying on the bed next to him, on his right. He reached over and put the cowboy hat back on his head, exactly as it has been before he collapsed, then he closed his eyes, again. I was pleased that he had remembered that significant detail, as it had slipped my mind. I blame Wyatt's good looks for my oversight. I made sure to keep my right hand on Wyatt's left hand so that I could monitor his mind and send him additional commands. I told him that no time had passed and that his eyes had closed just for an instant longer than normal because he had thought he had something in his eyes Finally I told him that he would awaken and open his eyes two seconds after he felt my hand no longer touching his hand, and upon opening his eyes that my hand touching his had never happened.

I lifted my right hand from Wyatt's left hand, and hastily returned my right hand to my lap. Wyatt's eyes popped open. He blinked once or twice.