Not that it's that much of a hardship. You're quite sexy with your fuzz and beard and belly. Now, why don't you let that towel drop and turn around.”
Slowly, Mitch released the towel and turned, ready for his new programming... (14/14)

Jackson smiled widely. “Thought you could avoid my eyes, did you Mitch? I knew the moment you caught me with Jake that you'd have to be next. I wasn't really looking to add to my little group, but I didn't know how much you might have seen or heard, so you had to come under my control. (13/14)

“That's it, just let it all go. The blue will keep you safe and secure. You just need to follow it's instructions and everything will be fine.”
“Ever'thin' will bif'ne.” Mitch mumbled, his brain now completely filled with the color, unable to think anything but what it told him. (12/14)

Knowing that the blue will envelop them. Wrapping a warm cocoon around their mind to keep them safe. So they can just relax and let everything go. And you can join them there.” Mitch's posture slipped, as did his grip on the towel around his waist. (11/14)

“We live together, and we look at things. Blue things.”
Mitch was lost in a blue fog. “Blue... things?”
“Exactly, just like my eyes. They just watch and fall into them. Falling deeper and deeper, becoming more and more relaxed with each passing moment. (10/14)

Jackson nodded. “Yes, my little group of men.” Too late, Mitch realized that he could see Jackson in the mirror, and had looked directly at his reflection when he nodded. There was something about... his eyes. They were... that same... deep... blue... (9/14)

Mitch was shocked, but controlled himself before he turned around. “Really?!”
“Yeah, he wanted to know when you'd join us.”
For some reason, Mitch's brain began to grow a bit fuzzy, ad a deep rich blue seemed to be stuck in his head. “Join you?” he said unsteadily. (8/14)

Pointedly not turning around, Mitch replied. “Just fine Jackson, you?”
There was a slight pause, as if Jackson was thinking about how to respond, and then he sat behind Mitch. “Good, good. Alan's been asking about you.” (7/14)

As he walked back to his locker, though, Jackson started walking up towards him. Mitch quickly turned to the mirror and began messing with his hair. Instinctively, he knew he didn't want to make eye contact. “How are you doing Mitch?” Jackson asked. (6/14)

Mitch stepped out of the shower and began to dry himself off. Now Jackson's always seemed to be looking at Mitch whenever he saw him, and it was too creepy to ignore. Wrapping the towel around his waist, Mitch decided to hell with the cost, he'd just switch gyms. (5/14)

Thinking back, though, there was something odd about it. They never seemed to break eye contact, and Jake had always responded slowly to what few bits of conversation Mitch could overhear while he changed. When Jake moved in with Alan and Jackson, Mitch was bewildered. (4/14)

But that was nothing compared to Jake. Some weeks after Jackson an Alan had moved in together, Jackson started giving that same eye to Jake, who didn't talk to anybody. And then one day Mitch came into the locker room and there they were, sitting on a bench and talking. (3/14)

Mitch, as Alan's friend, knew he didn't like Jackson, and had seen Jackson have this odd look whenever he saw at Alan. But suddenly the two were inseparable. Even weirder still when they became roommates and Alan only showed up when Jackson did, and stopped talking to everyone, even Mitch. (2/14)

Washing off the sweat from another hard day's workout, Mitch was deep in thought. He knew that something was odd about Jackson. It had first started when Alan had started to pal around with him all the time. (1/14)

When he looked back at what his friend had put on the screen, he was captured. Now, naked and ready, he still cannot look away.

As the model descended the steps, his mind grew more and more blank and open to the photographer's suggestions.

He answers the phone, and a single word is spoken. He jolts in surprise, and then the word starts reverberating in his mind, erasing everything, opening it to the voice. His eyes roll, his body locks, unable to do anything until told to do so. Frozen, triggered, and helpless to do anything but obey.

Staring into the spiral, bound by its spinning colors.

"I wasn't sure these were going to work. I've been waiting for you for some time now, you know."
Alan just stared blankly.
"Why don't you get ready for a sauna? We'll sit in there and mold your mind. Or at least your desires." Jackson laughed wickedly. "Gonna be a great night tonight." (12/12)

"Yes, and my voice is the color's voice. You serve the color, you serve the voice."
"I serve the color, I serve the voice," Alan replied, his voice flat as before, but for an entirely different reason.
"Excellent," the voice said, Jackson exerting complete control. (11/12)

Alan, already seeing everything in that powerful, captivating shade of blue, lost himself in it completely. Everything else went away, and just the color and the voice remained. A voice came out of the gloom of Alan's mind. (10/12)

Alan continued to nod dumbly, his eyes becoming more blank and vacant with each moment.
"So powerful in fact," Jackson continued, "that it enters into your mind and takes it over. Your thoughts, your memory, your personality, your will, all fall into the blue and are lost." (9/12)

As Jackson spoke, Alan started to see everything gain a blue tinge, expanding the mesmerizing color and further clouding his mind. His jaw dropped as he nodded dumbly.
Jackson smiled. "And it's easy to fall into, isn't it? It's such a powerful color, it blows over everything, doesn't it?" (8/12)

"Why don't we sit down," Jackson said as he slowly sat on the bench.
Alan, his eyes still locked on Jackson's, mirrored him.
"Now, one of the most interesting things they tell me is that this color, if you stare at it, starts to seep everywhere, like you're falling into it." (7/12)

He felt groggy and couldn't seem to stop staring into those contacts. "Uh-I... have to go... I need to get-"
"No you don't," Jackson interrupted. "Whatever it is, it's not important."
"Not... important..." Alan repeated, his addled brain already forgetting what it was he was going to do. (6/12)

"Noticed my new contacts, I see," Jackson replied. "I had them made special. You have to for this color."
Alan nodded, his eyes locked onto Jackson's. "Y-yeah, that's an interesting color... r-really deep." Alan tried to shake his head to clear it. (5/12)

"Something wrong, Alan?" he asked, as Alan regained his composure.
Alan noticed that Jackson's eyes were the deepest blue he'd ever seen in anything. "Fine, Jackson," he said flatly, trying to close the conversation. (4/12)

He started putting his gear away and cursed. He'd left his custom-fit padded helmet back at the mat and would have to go get it before someone took kit. He slammed the locker closed, and jumped. Standing right behind the door was Jackson. (3/12)

Alan didn't really have a major problem with Jackson, it was just the way he looked at Alan and his tone when they talked that made Alan feel like some piece of meat.
Alan hurried to his locker and opened it, putting the door between him and Jackson, hoping that would block any conversation. (2/12)

Alan walked over to his locker, slipping his gloves off as he did so. He'd had a good sparring session, but was tired. As he got there, he inwardly groaned. Jackson was there, getting ready for a sauna, it looked like. (1/12)