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1/1/2000.
Celebrity Hypnotist 16 Part 1/3.
"What?"
"You heard me, Mr. Durant," replied The Judge, who was
probably just as irritated as The Lawyer in front of him,"The contents
of the truck are to be suppressed."
"You can't do that!" gasped Durant angrily,"Our entire case
is based around that evidence!"
"Then I suggest!" snapped The Judge angrily,"That you either
develop a new base or see if you can work some kind of deal with Mr.
Prescott, either that or you dismiss the charges against his client,
now both of you GET OUT!"
Donovan suppressed the desire to smile, instead he just thanked
The Judge and stepped out of his chambers, followed by a furious Stephen
Durant.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" he roared at Donovan, slamming the door
behind him,"He's going to get away with murder because of you!"
"Calm yourself down," replied Donovan smoothly, having learned
a great deal about suppressing his emotions after watching his Associate
McKenzie work numerous deals, appeals, reviews and cases,"If you have a
deal to offer, we're willing to listen at least, but if you don't come
up with something soon, we'll be making a motion for dismissal."
"You've become just like them!" snapped Durant angrily,"Those
Lawyers we couldn't stand so much when we were studying, the ones who
don't care about right or wrong, justice or order, just lining their
own pockets and getting the guilty off!"
"Maybe if you'd done your homework," replied Donovan calmly,"You
wouldn't have to stand here venting your rage at your own incompetence
over me."
He leaned forward, his face inches from Durant's own,"It was lawyers
like you I couldn't stand in law School, Stephen, ones who didn't do their
homework and then blamed their losses on dirty tactics."
He turned and walked away smartly, leaving a stunned Durant
behind, whistling a merry tune.
The black man whistled a merry tune as he sauntered towards
Customs, two scantily clad, sluttish looking woman hanging off each arm.
He wore the most outrageous white trench-coat and massively oversized denim
jeans which threatened to fall around his ankles with every step he took. A
massive, flared white hat with a large pink feather adorning it rested over
most of his head and nearly every one of his teeth was set with gold.
Behind him were three other scantily clad women, each dragging two
massive bags each behind them, sweating heavily from all the exertion.
"Oh boy, here comes a walking stereotype," muttered one of The
Customs Officers,"I think I hear my lunch-break calling."
"Forget that, buddy," sighed one of his co-workers,"This looks
like it could be a problem."
Several minutes later the majority of the people in The Customs
Area of the airport were watching as the Pimp angrily argued with the
Officers over their desire to check his bags. He claimed they were
racist, prejudiced and only perpetuating the myth of The Man trying
to push down and subjugate The Mother Race, The Black Man.
A Priest stepped into Customs and gulped slightly at the scene,
clutching his thin, threadbare bag to his narrow chest before edging around
the angry Pimp and his Ho's.
"My oh my," he whispered to the tired looking Customs Officer
who greeted him,"That young man seems to be causing some problems, doesn't
he."
"You don't know the half of it, Father," murmured The Customs
Officer, taking his bag and distractedly running it through The Bag-Check.
He noted the clothes, tooth-brush, Bible and gilt-framed picture that
showed up under X-Ray, then waved The Priest through.
"Bless you, my son," The Priest said distractedly, then moved
out into the airport, seeking out the inevitable Starbucks and ordered
a small cappuccino.
Half an hour later, he picked up his small carry-case and moved
into the toilet.
The Priest never re-emerged.
Leon Black stepped through the doors and waved his 'whores' away,
pulling the hat off and cinching his pants up, pulling his belt tight so
that they were no longer in danger of falling away. His trench-coat was
light, so he pulled it off and jammed it into a small carry-case that
had been inside the bags The Custom's Officers had checked. They had gone
through his things with a fine tooth comb and found nothing, as he had
assured them they wouldn't, and they had let him go with quizzical looks,
unsure if he really was a stereotype or just some man trying to make a
message.... perhaps he might even be a performance artist?
One of his whores handed him a thick black trench-coat which
blocked out the cold wind the city was so well known for and he pulled
it on, grinning at the way it hung off his muscular frame.
Which reminded him, he reached up and with a wrenching tug tore
his false teeth out, removing the gold foiled ones to reveal his own
perfect pearly whites.
"Styling," he chuckled, then threw his arms wide and spun about
with a laugh,"Damn baby! I'm in Chi-Town!"
Stopping sharply, he slammed hard into a slightly built man in jeans
and a sports coat. He dropped his carry case in surprise, while the other
man stumbled backwards and fell to his ass.
"You okay, m'man?" asked Leon with a broad grin, helping the
man to his feet and dusting him off,"No harm, no foul?"
"I'm fine, thank you," replied the man, bending down and picking
up one of the two carry-cases lying on the ground,"I must be going."
Leon just chuckled, picking up the much, much heavier carry-case
that had been left behind. With a satisfied whistle, he and his whores
moved down the street in the opposite direction of the former Priest,
chuckling at the thought that sometimes, the old tricks really were the
best.
"Welcome to Australia, mate," Tom Cruise said with a tired smile.
"It's only funny once the movie's come out, Tom," replied Kevin
Spacey smoothly, not amused at all by the reference from Tom's current
movie, Mission Impossible II,"And besides, this visit is all business,
no pleasure."
They were in a tiny airfield hundreds of miles from anywhere,
on a small plot of land that Tom had bought under a different name. No
one knew Kevin was there except for Tom, himself and his two guests.
"So what now?" asked Tom, dropping his forced smile,"You want to
get some sleep? Something to eat? Jet-Lag can be a real drag I know...."
"We go see Fischer," snapped Kevin irritably,"We deal with this
immediately, then we go back to civilization."
He moved towards the waiting car, it's doors wide open to take
some of the edge of the stifling heat when it's occupants arrived. Tom
sighed and rolled his head back, clasping his forehead. The first of
Kevin's guests moved past the action star without a word, the second stopped
to give him a small peck on the cheek and smiled.
"Relax," she said,"He always gets irritable after a long trip,
once he's gotten some coffee into him he'll be his usual, charming self."
They all hopped into the car, rolling the tinted windows up and
putting the air-conditioner on full blast before heading out to see Dr.
Paul Fischer.
"Some people stand in the darkness, afraid to come into the
light."
I chuckled at the ridiculousness of the theme-song which ran over
the beginning of the tape I'd just placed into The VCR.
It was a quiet weekend, I had nothing planned, nothing to do,
no celebrities to fuck.... just your average lazy weekend.
The Millennium was coming and people seemed to be making a great
deal out of it. In about a month we would be living in The 21st Century
and everybody seemed extremely excited for no reason that I
could comprehend. I'd already been questioned by several journalists
over just what I'd be doing on New Years Eve and made the usual, boring
comments like,"I'll be with my family," or,"Hiding in my Y2K shelter."
Y2K, ha! What a joke that thing was, the biggest money-making
scam I'd ever come across, and yet for all it's obviousness people seemed
to be falling for it.
And so, with nothing else to do I'd decided to enjoy some of my
previous exploits and gone into my own private little vault, the only
Organization tapes in existence with my real face on them.
I leaned back in the chair and watched with amusement as the
opening credits of Baywatch started, once the most watched show on the
planet.
Not exactly for the high caliber of acting, though, I think perhaps
the generous showings of cleavage, buttocks and women jumping up and down
in water might have had something to do with it.
Still, who was I to complain, I made my real living by selling
tapes of sexual intercourse with female celebrities.
This particular film had been made at the height of the shows
popularity, before they started doing location shoots in Hawaii and
Australia to off-set growing costs. Pamela Anderson was the shows biggest
draw-card, but I had no real interest in her, for no reason I could
ascertain, she just didn't do it for me.
Erika Eleniak, on the other hand, did - but she had left the show
in 1991 to pursue a career in the movies (yeah, that worked out!) - as did
two of the newer stars of the show, Yasmine Bleeth and Nicole Eggert.
Given the shows popularity, my interest in some of the actresses,
The Organizations interest in making money, it was only logical that
I do a Baywatch job. Getting hold of the three women was no problem
whatsoever, they were famous but not so much that it was impossible to
see them without going through Agents, Managers, Siblings, Hangers-On
and Personal Trainers. Each had been conditioned, each had the script
sitting in their heads waiting to be played out, now all that needed to be
done was to do just that, play it out.
And so, on one balmy Summer's morning on a closed off stretch
of beach privately owned by one of The Organization's Clients, we did.
The show started in typical Baywatch fashion, two of the girls
running along in their familiar red swimming costumes, large breasts
bouncing in slow motion, camera angles twisting to lovingly caress their
firm buttocks, heaving bosoms, tongues lightly licking across their
pink, soft lips...
It was almost like a beer commercial.
Cutting back to regular speed, the two girls slowed to a stop
and, with the stilted, forced acting which was a main-stay of the show,
started looking around wildly.
"Do you hear that?" Nicole asked, lifting a hand to her ear.
"Yeah?" muttered Yasmine, cocking her head,"I do."
The sound in question was a heavy panting, followed by low, forced
demands to,"Come on! Come on!"
"Sounds like CPR!" cried Nicole, pointing over a ridge,"Over that
ridge!"
The two beautiful women scrambled up the sand-dune, tripping
and falling down just as they reach the top, which was convenient to
say the least, since it enabled them to observe, unseen, what was actually
happening over the rise.
I lay on my back, the sand-dunes surrounding us on three sides,
the ocean making the fourth wall, giving us total privacy as Erika Eleniak
straddled me, humping her hips up and down, fucking her tight cunt up
and down over my hard cock. We were both panting and moaning and, every
so often, Erika would throw back her head and moan,"Come on! Come on!"
Nicole and Yasmine shared startled looks which soon became amused
as they turned to watch the incredibly sexy woman fucking herself up
and down on top of me.
I must say that for me, it was also an incredibly sexy feeling,
Erika's cunt was tight and hot, gripping on my cock like a vice as she
slid herself up and down the length of my prick. I was cupping her huge
breasts, her fingers interlocked with mine as together we stroked and
squeezed her big, firm tits, tweaking her nipples, twisting and flicking
them with the ends of our fingers.
We both moaned with pleasure, I loved the feel of her velvety
snatch parting around my cock as I filled her again and again. She was
as glorious as I had expected her to be, her pussy tight and sucking,
the friction tight cunt-walls around my prick pure heaven, pulling me
inside of her, as if I needed any coercion!
She slid her hands down to my wrists, moving them off her large,
firm breasts and directing them down to the hot sand as she lowered her
body down, her breasts pressing firmly, hotly against my chest, kissing
me, our tongues twining together. She continued to grip to my wrists,
using me as an anchor as she moved her crotch erotically up and down,
gently rising and falling, her cunt sliding up and down my cock, which
was glistening with her juices. Her nipples dug into my flesh, hot,
aching nubbins of pink flesh which felt wonderful against my chest. Her
tits were the real stars of the movie Under Siege, hundreds or thousands,
maybe million of teenage boys and grown men had gone back to the movie
again and again, rented it over and over from local video stores, worn
out the tape at that one point, scoured the Internet to find the movie
clip.
Steven Sea-who?
Her breasts pushed up and down slightly as she began working
her hips faster, sliding up and down my cock, her cunt slapping against
the base of my dick with each downswing. Her hips gyrated, creating
small circles as she pumped her crotch up and down my cock, causing long,
sexy moans to emanate from her lips with every break between our slow,
passionate kisses.
But they became more urgent, more lustful as our arousal grew.
She began to slide up and down my prick faster and faster, her ass pounding
against my thighs, her cunt swallowing my cock again and again in it's
vice-like grip.
Everything about her was sexy, everything made my lust grow,
from her beautiful, beguiling face to the feel of her huge breasts squashed
against my chest to the enflamed look of lust in her face, the flush of
her cheeks, the way her hair hung lank and sweaty around her face from
her sexual exertions, the feel of her cunt, the warmth, hell, just the
sensation of her flesh on mine, her hands gripping my wrists, her smile
as she pulled slightly away from me, then lewdly leaned forward and licked
my face with a giggle.
She leaned back again, pulling my wrists up, pressing my hands
once again onto her firm tits. I eagerly squeezed and stroked them
making her loll her head back and moan with pleasure, pressing my hands
against her breasts, crunching her crotch down against mine, grinding
her pussy firmly onto my cock.
She lifted her ass up higher and higher, slamming back onto my
cock, grinding firmly into my crotch, threw her head back to get more
penetration, applying weight and pressure onto my crotch, driving us
both wild. She rose higher up my cock each time, slamming her cunt down
over and over, grinding against my crotch, lifting back up, her cunt-lips
pulled loose by the thickness of my cock, stuffing back inside when she
dropped back down.
Burying my cock fully into her again, she worked her cunt around,
pumping her ass up and down in tight circles, moaning happily, our fingers
working together on her nipples
"Come on! Come on!" she moaned,"Come on! Come on and CUMMMM!!!!"
"Oh yeaaah!" I gasped, feeling my own arousal building towards
an unmistakable orgasm. I closed my eyes and in my own head whispered
a word, setting off a chain reaction in my mind which shut off my body's
responses to pleasure while drawing upon subconscious memory to provide
a placebo. This would allow me to feel an orgasm without actually having
one, letting me continue to fuck after 'cumming' where the normal man would
just roll over and fall asleep.
And so I continued to 'feel' her cunt around my cock, the sensations
of her pussy sliding up and down my prick continuing to arouse me to
greater and greater levels as I felt her cunt-lips clasping around my
dick like a vice.
"Oh yes! YES! YES! YESSSSSSsssss.sss.sss.sss..ss..ss...s!!" hissed
Erika, throwing her head back, slamming her cunt down and cramming every
last inch of my cock inside of her.
She came hard, her juices spraying out between us, most of it
held inside of her by my cock, but after she ground herself down on me
for a few moments more she lifted herself up and her juices flooded over
our crotches, down my thighs and ass-cheeks to the hot sand below us.
Her cunt-lips squeezed down around my cock tighter than before,
milking me, driving me over the edge, mentally at least.
I groaned and slammed my hips up, our crotches mashing together
as I felt myself cum, even felt shot after shot of sperm shoot out of my
cock and deep up into her belly... despite the fact that nothing of the
sort was happening.
Erika squealed with delight and ground her cunt down hard as I
continued pushing my own hips up, our crotches mashing together, humping
hard and fast as we both spiraled down from our orgasms.
Finally our glistening, sweaty bodies relaxed and I collapsed
to the hot sand below, Erika falling over me, her huge tits pressing
firmly against my chest, her face falling into the crook of my shoulder,
legs spread wide on either side of my hips, my cock planted stiffly
inside of her cunt.
We lay like that for a few moments, and I began to lightly stroke
her hair until we both picked up on a familiar noise. Pants and moans of
pleasure were emanating from above us.
Erika lifted her head to give me a quizzical smile, which I
returned with a puzzled shrug, and then a startled squawk sounded from
above, followed by several gasps and pants as two figures tumbled and fell
down the sand-bank to land several feet away from us. Two incredibly
beautiful, naked figures, legs spread wide, eyes even wider as they
realized they'd been caught out.
To be precise, Nicole Eggert and Yasmine Bleeth.
"Tony, they might bring in the old lady to testify," Donovan said
to Anthony Gorman, his Second Chair,"I want to be rock-solid on what she
has to say, no surprises, stress the fact that she's 87, has bad vision,
that sort of thing."
"I can ask around the Apartment Building about her," Tony noted,
writing all his stray thoughts into a note-book as always,"See if she
had any problem with Alistair, maybe he didn't fix her heating on time
or something, perhaps she has a reason to 'think' she saw him."
Donovan paused slightly, frowning, then shook his head.
"We don't need to go so far, Tony, it's an old lady, a character
assassination might make us look like bullies to the Jury, the Defense
will play on that, make US look desperate, like we have something to
hide."
"Okay boss, I'll just research the facts."
He made an odd clicking noise and flashed a sardonic 'o' with
his thumb and forefinger before leaving the Office. Donovan frowned,
unsure just what Tony had meant by that last statement, he was an odd
fish, inexperienced in Court but technically brilliant. As long as you
didn't hit him with something unexpected he was cool and calm, exhibiting
the best traits of his father, the academic, highly researched Burt Gorman,
and the second of three Partners in The Firm, the charming, smooth,
manipulative, political Alex McKenzie.
So was Tony just being glib, or had it been a legitimate claim,
that THIS time he would just research the facts.
Donovan shook his head with a rueful smile, realizing that Durant
had gotten deeper under his skin than he's realized. He had a Client to
get off, and was just letting himself get distracted by pointless avenues
of thought.
All that could wait, however, he had to get out to The Four
Seasons for a lunch date with Alex, and he didn't want to be late, the
food was expensive but good, and hey, it was all on The Firm's payroll!
Leon stepped into the Bar and almost recoiled at the smell. It
was old and ingrained, sweat, beer and nuts, as if the place had never
had any air since it opened - if you believed the sign above the door - in
1932.
With some reluctance he let the door shut behind him and moved
inside, squinting to try and get a better idea of his surroundings. It
was dim but at least light outside, in here there were only a couple of
small windows letting in the barest modicum of light.
"Dark, dank and spooky," chuckled Leon,"A drunkards paradise."
"Whadafuk!" growled The Bartender, a short, evil looking man
who eyed Leon suspiciously, one hand sliding beneath the bar where most
likely he kept a shotgun.
"No thanks, I don't want a fuck," chuckled Leon, pretending he
had misunderstood the man's words. He looked around the bar and finally
spotted who he was looking for, with a grin he moved to the table and
slid in to the opposite stall.
"Fukawf," mumbled the big man sitting over a small scotch,"I don't
want any crack."
"Man I look around and all I see is prejudice..." sighed Leon
with a rueful grin, then he actually did look around,"That, and cobwebs."
"Whaddya want?" grumbled the big man. He looked like a typical
thug or bruiser, with a big sloping forehead, crooked nose, powerful chin,
a thick neck that seemed to disappear into his chest. He was dressed in
clothes that, while not overly stylish or expensive, were of a fine
weave and sturdy design. Here was a man, then, who obviously had money
but not a job which required him to be at work during the day. Given
his appearance and obvious lack of a higher intellect, this drastically
reduced his possible job to some kind of Mafia thug.... or, as Leon
himself knew better, The Organization.
"I'm here to ask some questions for Mr. Robinson," Leon said
smoothly, leaning back in his chair,"Mr. Robinson requires answers..."
".... and Mr. Robinson gets what he wants," grunted The Thug,
eyeing Leon a little more respectfully now. The code they had
just exchanged let them both know they were Organization men, and The
Thug knew Leon was obviously a higher up.
"Come with me.... Vito?" asked Leon, standing up.
"Vito," nodded Vito.
"How.... stereotypical," chuckled Leon.
"Look whose talking," grunted Vito, and after a moment of surprise,
Leon laughed.
"I have convinced her that the stranger in the dream represents
yourself, Tom," Dr. Fischer said smoothly to the four assembled in his
Office. It was a Sunday and the building was deserted, they had it all
to themselves,"And that the dream was a carthesis for her willing acceptance
from you to engage in anal sex."
The woman allowed a smirk to briefly flit across her lips, but
said nothing.
"Her mind around this subject is surprisingly malleable, my guess
would be as a hold-over from the hypnosis she was subjected to," Dr.
Fischer continued,"I simply reinforced her prior beliefs that anal sex
was in some way wrong, or dirty, and that in her eagerness to please her
husband her mind created the dream sequence with 'The Stranger' to allow
her to let Tom engage with anal sex with her in the future. You see,
she had to be 'forced' into it to allow herself to enjoy it, it was
simply her minds way of getting around the impasse when it came to anal
intercourse."
"Let's cut the bullshit," snapped Kevin,"She no longer believes
a stranger came into her room and butt-fucked her, right?"
Fischer blanched slightly at this direct approach,"She now knows
it was simply a dream, her minds way of getting around her reluctance
in respects to anal intercourse."
"And you're positive about this?"
"Absolutely, Nicole has been nothing but truthful with me about
this, as her Doctor she knows she can trust me."
Tom couldn't help but laugh at the irony inherent in
this situation, they were trusting in the word of a man who had come by
his knowledge by betraying the trust between Doctor and patient.
"Good," muttered Kevin, then nodded to the large man sitting
beside him, his other guest.
The big man nodded, reached into his jacket front, pulled free
a gun with silencer attached and shot Dr. Fischer directly between the
eyes.
The room was absolutely silent for a few moments, then Kevin
got up and stretched.
"Dispose of the body, leave the evidence that we brought, then
head to the airport and go straight to Jamaica. Enjoy the sun for a few
months, then when you get the call, come back to New York."
The big man nodded, moving quickly and efficiently around the
office, going into his carry case to pull out a note, then moving to the
filing cabinets to add several patient files.
When Dr. Fischer hadn't been heard of for a few days, the police
would quickly discover the sad tale of a Psychiatrist blackmailed by a
young male patient who had seduced him into an affair, leaving him with
no choice but to liquidate his assets and flee the country to avoid
humiliation and having his Doctorate stripped.
Had The Doctor been even a little suspicious, he might well have
noted that despite the heat, all the occupants of the room had been
wearing gloves.
Yasmine and Nicole had been watching myself and Erika with great
interest, stifling giggles into their hands, nudging each other with
their elbows as they lay on the hot sand, squirming about with amusement
as they watched Erika humping herself onto my cock.
Their squirms quickly changed from amusement to slight arousal,
their giggles to a slight rise in the pace of their breathing. Both women
tried to hide their arousal from the other, no longer nudging each other,
simply lying on the sand, their large breasts squashed into the hot sand,
their tight asses compacting together as they involuntarily squeezed their
buttocks together, drawing the thin material of their red Lifeguard costumes
up into their cracks.
They would have presented an incredibly erotic sight to anyone
who might have been watching, two sexy women lying side by side in skimpy,
skin-tight swimming costumes hunching their asses up and down, starting
to pant with desire as they watched a third beauty fucking herself onto
my cock.
End Celebrity Hypnotist Part 16 1/3.