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01 : http://www.dimitrisarchive.com/ - JayDee's site, includes all my
stories, other authors and Showtime.
02 : http://www.asstr.org or ftp://asstr.org/pub/Authors/Dimitri - The
Alt Sex Stories Text Repository, the most constantly up to date collection
of my stories, because I update this directory!
03 : http://www.giffer.com - excellent, 100% free, lots of areas,
special area for my stories.
04 : http://www.GreyArchive.com (The Grey Archive, very popular, well
put together site with several of my stories).
05 : http://fanfiction.majorhost.com/index.html - Rogues Erotica,
constantly updating site with something for everyone.
06 : http://members.tripod.com/~sneal_ The X-Men Erotica Archive -
features My Marvel Comics series.
07 : http://www.angelfire.com/tx/TvArcive/ - Age Of Onslaught &
Star trek : Original Series story available here.
08 : http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/2506/foepage/ JamF's
FOEpage, features the GenX parts of my Marvel : Herald Of
Armageddon story and X-Files : Grandmaster, with images included.
09 : http://booyani.majorhost.com - Dedicated to the perversion
of your favorite videogame, comic book and anime characters since
1/1/2000.
Skip this part if you want to get straight into the story -
What has gone before - The Celebrity Hypnotist is a celebrity
whose identity is unknown. He works for a corrupt Organization which
sells tapes of sex with celebrity’s as part of their plan to work their
way into all positions of power.
While The C.H has gone about hypnotizing celebrities and fucking
them things have been happening. A Detective named Rob Anderson was
investigating the group when he was murdered by one of their operatives,
his own partner David Hollaway. Dave then prepared to have his way with
Gillian Anderson, victim of the late Gary Cole - Celebrity Rapist but
Gillian defeated him and his incompetence may just have blown the whole
Organization wide open. Meanwhile the C.H's affairs have been interrupted
and investigated separately by Lisa Kudrow and Kevin Spacey, both of
whose motives are unknown. As a result of Lisa's interference the C.H
found himself stuck with a 'sidekick', Bart Rice who has forced himself
into The C.H's life, much to that worthy's chagrin.
Celebrity Hypnotist Part Seven. (1/5)
It had been a bizarre couple of months, events unfolding
in a totally unpredictable, chaotic way. The Head was dead, killed
in a bizarre murder/suicide by his wife. We had a new Head, one who
I knew now I had underestimated. Bart was gone... in a way, and the
Gillian Anderson fiasco was threatening us all.
I had always prided myself on not being a puppet. I was
not so arrogant as to believe I controlled everyone and everything
in the world, but always in my foolish arrogance had I believed
myself to be free of control. Those who thought they controlled
me were mistaken, I manipulated them into thinking they manipulated
me... but I now knew I had been played like a rube from the sticks by
sharks in a game of three card monte.
True, I had found myself at the end of puppet strings, but
those strings could be pulled both ways... and I did have an idea....
still, I'm getting ahead of myself. I guess it all started the
day after me and Bart had our encounter with Jennifer Love Hewitt
and he came to me with the question....
"Tell me about the Home Improvement fiasco...."
"Hmmm?" I asked, I hadn't been paying attention to him, I'd
been concentrating on my memories of The Bat-Orgy. The interruption
of that delightful little scene and my concurrent introduction to Bart
had obviously been manipulated by somebody... but who?
Now Bart had interrupted me, the boy was beginning to become
something of an irritation.
"The Home Improvement fiasco," he repeated, his eyes flashing
with irritation at having to repeat himself... he liked to be the center
of attention, he liked to be the most important person in the room... he
was like me in that respect, but he was not me... I was.
But I grinned and turned about to face him.
"That's right, I told you I'd tell you about that, didn't I."
"You sure did," he said, mistaking my friendly (fake!) smile for
acknowledgment of his importance,"And I wanna hear about it, I've always
had a thing for Pamela Anderson... man that video of her and Tommy Lee!"
"He had that distributed," I interrupted.
"Huh?" he looked confused,"I thought it was stolen...?"
"Nope," I replied,"He's an arrogant bastard, always going on
about the size of his cock... he always intended to put it out
in public... the tape that is. Poor Pam doesn't know," I paused,"But
that's besides the point, Pamela had left at the time that I got the
job."
"Oh," he replied, looking a little disappointed.
"Relax kemosabe," I said, it was a psychological thing, but so
subtle he wouldn't pick up on it. Kemosabe was something The Lone Ranger's
sidekick, Tonto, would say. By me saying it, it made him think that
he was the boss, the main guy, the head honcho, the big cheese,"You'll
enjoy the story."
"Okay," he replied, settling down comfortably on his chair,
obviously ready for a long story.
Well I wasn't going to disappoint him.
"It all started just after Pam left and her replacement, Debbie
Dunning, came in. One of our bigger clients was mesmerized by her and
ordered a scene... which I provided...."
I arrived on set early that morning, I had to be there before
almost everyone or else retaining anonymity would have been impossible.
The Security Guard waved me in, and as I walked past him I spoke
a word that activated my insurance policy, pre-installed months earlier
into him and all other security guards working at the places I frequented,
paranoid? Perhaps, but I believed in covering my ass.
The set was all ready, it was a rotating set, moving from the
house, to the bar to the made up set for the tool time audience. Above
it all was the sound booth, which piped music down to the audience as
they waited for the show to begin... this was what had interested me
about this particular case, the chance to do my thing in front of a
live audience. The client wanted to capture that sitcom feel, and I
was more than willing, I could turn my nose up at society's manners and
mores right in front of a assorted collection of my so-called peers without
fear of retribution... I could show that I was above them, I wasn't one
of the faceless horde.
But it meant a lot of work.
The client (The Head hadn't told me who he... or she, was) had
wanted it done almost immediately, but I needed time to set up my hypnotic
conditioning tape, so I was adamant in a need for a full week's
preparation. Being the top supplier for the Organization gave me a lot
of leeway in situations like this, so I got it.
I hooked up the tapes, once the audience arrived the
sound technician would pipe the sound in underneath the music, with the
length of time filming could take it was ample time to drop it into them.
Of course, first I had to hypnotize the cast and crew, the crew
would be easy, they could be caught one at a time or in small groups, but
the cast had done their final run through the script yesterday and wouldn't
show up until an hour, half-hour before filming was due to begin. This
made things difficult, but not impossible.
I spent the day moving about, not being noticed. I was good at
that kind of thing, growing up I had learnt how to fade into the background,
and when the majority of people who were actually paid to take notice of
people in the sound-stage and general studio area were hypnotized NOT to
notice me it was that much easier.
I caught crew-members every so often, their names and faces were
etched in my mind. The benefit of being a master of hypnosis was that you
could give yourself a photographic memory, I knew all of them by sight,
I even had psychological profiles on all of them, although from reading
them I knew I wouldn't need to go too far into their psyches to get what
I wanted... it wasn't very often that I did. And so it was that I set
them up, preparing myself for when the cast showed up.
Surprisingly enough, it was the kids that showed up first, which
was just as well since all I had to do was convince them that the show
had been filmed and that they could head home. They would conveniently
'get lost' along the way and show up at home at the normal times, not
remembering their little sidetrack. The next to arrive was Richard Karn,
whose part in my little 'script' was limited and was easy to set up. Next
came Patricia Richardson, her part was not as large as Debbie Dunning, but
it was sizable, so I spent some time on her.
Finally Debbie arrived, and I immediately set to, bringing her into
conversation (easy enough to do considering my celebrity status) between
Patricia and I and dropping the pitch and tone of certain keywords, using
repetition to create a message in her subconscious mind, and soon she was
in a trance, making it extremely easy for me to set up my conditioning,
using her own subconscious desires and fantasies to work it's way into
my 'script'.
Now everything was ready, the audience had been being entertained
by a comedian as low pitched music played in the background, most people's
conscious minds didn't realize it was even there, but their subconscious
did... and it also picked up on my hypnotic message underneath.
Nothing could go wrong... and of course nearly everything did.
---
"Well let's crank that baby up!" I cried, staring with almost
undisguised lust at the gigantic engine hooked up to the concrete mixer.
"Now Tim," said Richard, dressed in the traditional flannel shirt,
jeans and tool-belt of Al Borlon, he looked a little uneasy,"Mixing concrete
properly is a kind of art.... you can't soup up a mixer, faster isn't
necessarily better."
Of course it was ridiculous, that was the point, and despite the
fact that this same gag was dredged out every week in one different form
or another it always proved immensely popular. Of course, since I was now
Tim 'The Toolman' Taylor I had to do the same thing he would do, for now
at least.
"Would you like to do the honors Heidi?" I asked, after giving 'Al'
a dirty look and mimicking silently the words he had just spoken, I grinned
at the wolf-whistles and cat-calls that followed as Debbie 'Heidi' Dunning
bent over and switched on the concrete mixer.
A low whirring noise began to issue from the mixer.
"Okay Al," I said, turning to Richard,"Pour the concrete mix in."
"There's nothing in my contract about doing that kind of thing," he
replied,"You pour it in."
"Come on Al, I bet there's nothing in your contract that says you
don't have to pour super-fast drying concrete mix into a souped up concrete
mixer."
Richard smiled, reached into his jeans pocket and whipped out a
sheet of paper, there was a titter from the audience, responding to the
flashing 'quiet laughter' sign.
"Actually Tim, I just completed renegotiating my contract with
Binford, if you'll just bring your attention to page 2, paragraph 7,
sub-section 3."
There was a louder laugh from the audience.
I scanned the contract, which had the lines put down, not that I
needed them.
"...whereas Al Borlon shall not be forced to operate, load, utilise
and/or in any way or fashion cause to function any device of mechanical or
otherwise construction that has had it's basic function increased by
Timothy Taylor or anyone acting under his instructions."
Now there was a louder, longer laugh and then some applause.
"Fine," I said,"Heidi will load it, won't she."
"I don't think so Tim," she replied, getting laughs for using Al's
standard line.
"Fine, I'll load it," I muttered, the mixer was now whirring much
louder. I picked up the sack of so called super-fast drying conrete mix
and began to unload it into the turning mixer.
"Now load it evenly Tim," Richard called out,"If it's not done
evenly then the concrete won't mix correctly."
"Yeah, yeah," I said, soon the sack was empty and I dropped the
sack, then grabbed a hose from next to the mixer, which was getting louder
than before.
"Tim? Is it supposed to sound like that?" asked Richard.
"Relax Al," I replied, turning the nozzle of the hose and pointing
the spray of water into the mixer.
"Tim... I'm pretty sure that noise isn't normal."
"Relax Al," I said, grinning at the audience,"I souped that baby
up personally."
"That's what's worrying me," replied Richard quickly.
The concrete mixer began making grinding noises.
"Uhhh.... Tim?"
"What Al?" I snapped.
"RUN!" he screamed, he turned and headed out the large entrance
to the backset.
"Wha?" I started, looking a little worried. Then I dropped the
hose, turned about on one foot and began to move. At that moment the
souped-up mixer made a noise like a giant belch, then blasted the wet
concrete out into the air, directly over me. It splashed down behind the
workdesk where I was supposedly hiding, although I'd already slid out of
the way.
The machine shuddered, jerked and finally stopped. The audience
had gasped in shock, then laughed when the mixer fired. Now they tittered
as Richard slowly slid his head around the entrance and whispered my
name... or that is the name of who he thought I was.
"Tim?"
He came forward and said it louder.
"Over here Al," came my voice, muffled.
Richard walked over to the workbench, then cried out.
"Wow!"
"Help me up here Al."
He hunkered down and grabbed at something the audience couldn't
see, then with a strain of his muscles lifted up a crude concrete statue
of me, with only a small hole around where my mouth would be. The audience
laughed appreciatively, some without the benefit of the applause sign.
"We'll be right back," I murmured from the microphone set in the
statue,"After these messages from Binford."
-
We were interrupted by a phonecall.
Bart looked pissed off, it annoyed me too, for two reasons. The
first of course, was that I wanted Bart to have the illusion he was in
control of everything here. The second was that I was actually enjoying
telling this story, despite the fact that at the time it had been a
huge blow to my ego.
I picked up the phone.
"Speak to me."
I listened for a few seconds, soon my face flashed with irritation,
and finally I spoke.
"You deal with it, I never had anything to do with her, if you
need my talents I might be able to help... otherwise, don't bother me at
home again."
I hung up.
"What was that about?" he asked.
"PSL - Potential Security Leak," I said,"A blip in an otherwise
efficient system of operatives. They can deal with it without me."
I continued to tell him the story, but I was no longer enjoying
it, instead I was thinking of this new situation... The Organization
had failed to heed my warning and used violence as a shield, now it had
blown up in their faces.
----------------
One Day Earlier.
----------------
At roughly the same time that Bart and The Celebrity Hypnotist
were enjoying Jennifer Love Hewitt, Dave Hollaway was running into a
room, half blinded by blood from his scratches and rage from things
not going his way.
WHAM!
The baseball bat (why the hell was she keeping a bat in her
kids room his mind flashed crazily) smashed into his head, stopping
him dead in his tracks.
He fell back a couple of paces, bringing his hands up to his
head.
"AHH FUCK!" he roared,"What the fuck did you do that for?"
"SONUVABITCH!" she screamed, she swung the bat again. This time
he caught it easily in one hand.
"No no," he said,"Enough fun and games."
He stepped forward, pulling the bat away from her. An arrogant
smile crossed his face,"Now you and me are..."
As he started to speak, she kicked full force, bringing her knee
hard up into his balls.
"GUFF!!!!" he grunted, and doubled over. She pulled the bat away
from him and smashed the bat into his unprotected neck. He collapsed
to the floor.
As he spiraled down into unconsciousness he heard her footsteps
as she moved to a corner of the room, then there was nothing for a few
seconds.
And as he blacked out, he heard four words that sent a dagger
through his heart.
"Get me the police."
----------------------------------------
The Home Improvement Fiasco - Continued.
----------------------------------------
The audience had returned to their usual seats, leaving the
tool time stands empty, the cameras were unattended and the lights were
darker. Richard and Debbe were chipping away at a false concrete cast
set around me body. My hands, feet and most of my feet were exposed.
"You guys wanna hurry this up?" I asked.
"Why couldn't we just take you to the Emergency Room?" asked
Richard.
"Because," I replied,"I have to meet Jill at the bar, we're going
to some stupid wedding one of her millions of cousins are having... and
besides this is too humiliating to let the gang down at the e.r see... even
for me!"
"We might be a little late," said Richard,"You want me to ring the
bar and tell Jill?"
I hesitated,”Yeah," I said finally,"You better I guess."
He got up with a little grunt, then walked out to find a phone
to use.
Debbe got up, she put her hands on her hips,"This is going to take
forever."
"There's a uh.... special chisel, in the top lefthand draw of
that workbench.... that'll speed things up a bit."
She walked over to the bench, I stared in undisguised admiration
at her tight little ass in the small little overalls. My face suddenly
contorted and I groaned.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
"Nothing," I moaned,"Things just got a little tight there for a
second."
The audience laughed lightly.
She turned about my eyes lifted up from her ass-level, lingering
slightly on the large, plump breasts tightly held in a tight little
Binford top, before coming up to her lovely face. She looked slightly
chagrined.
"This?" she asked, and held up a chisel attached to a fist sized
motor. The audience laughed, a couple of the men hooted and grunted,
thinking they were funny because they were imitating Tim Allen's patented
'grunt'.
"Come on, it'll be fine," I said, I attempted to look to the side,
and grunted in pain,"Just start it up before Al get's back."
Debbe laughed, then pulled the cord. There was a chuff, a grunt
and the chisel began pumping up and down in a manner that was quite
frankly... sexual.
"Oooh," she laughed,"Can I borrow this when you're out."
"Heidi!" I laughed, then grunted,"Oooh, got a little tight down
below... stop doing that kind of thing!"
She giggled, moving up close to me she pressed her breasts against
the concrete (lucky, lucky concrete!) and moved the chisel against the
area just above my groin.
"Let's just relieve some of that pressure, shall we?"
I grunted again, and the audience laughed, having made the
connection between my grunts and an erection,"For goodness sakes, be
careful!"
The chisel began pushing into the concrete, driving up dust and
powder as it made short work of the stuff. As it pushed forward, small
cracks formed around my groin area and within a few seconds the entire
area fell away (the concrete, not my groin!) and my jeans were exposed,
my cock pressing hard against it.
"Wow," she said, for a second my face lit up with a smile, then
it fell slightly when she said,"This chisel of yours really worked, why
do you keep it in the desk?"
"Hmmm," I replied,"It wasn't powerful enough... and every time
I put a bigger one in it the chisel would end up pulling loose and flying
through the air," my eyes took on a faraway look,"Man, I took out three
tree branches, put a hole in the boys slide and missed Wilson by less
than an inch!"
"Looks like you're still under a lot of pressure there Timmy," she
said, looking up from where she was kneeling and seeing my cock pressing
against the jeans.
"Yeah, all the blood is kinda trapped where it is you know."
"Say Tim," she said, looking slyly up at me,"Howsabout that
raise we were talking about?"
"Huh?" I asked,"I told you Heidi, you'd have to be doing two
jobs to get more pay, things are that tight."
"Tight, eh?" she laughed,"Job, hmmm?"
"Heidi? What are you doing?"
What she was doing, was just what I'd instructed her to do, she
reached up with one hand and slid it across the denim material stretched
tight around my cock.
"You want me to do another job," she giggled, cupping my cock. I
was 'powerless' to stop her,"You'll get one."
She unzipped my jeans and reached in, her hand warm around my
cock, she pulled me out. My cock had only been able to get half-hard,
now it quickly lifted up to full size.
And before I could say anything, and as the crowd cooed in
appreciation, she grabbed my cock around the base, leaned forward and
engulfed my cock in her warm, wet and oh so willing mouth.
As my mouth gaped open in apparent shock (damn I'm a
good actor!) the crowd cooed in surprise and admiration. Debbe
was swirling her tongue around my cockhead, holding about half
of my now fully erect cock in her warm mouth.
I let out a patented Tim Taylor grunt of confusion mixed
with a moan of pleasure. The audience laughed, if I hadn't only
had eyes for Debbi's mouth around my shaft, I would have seen
the beginnings of the fiasco.
She slid her tongue up to the tip of my cock and pressed
the tip firmly against my pisshole for a few seconds, causing a
wonderful sense of pressure. I moaned out loud and she pulled
her tongue away, then ran her tongue along the underside of my shaft.
Grinning slyly, her hand gripped the base of my cock and
steadied me as she spread her mouth wider. Then she began to slide
down more of my meat, enveloping more of my cock into her mouth
than before.
"Woah Heidi," I moaned,"You've certainly given me a raise!"
Suddenly the concrete (which was a fake, breakaway
plaster they had put me in when this new scene began) around my arms
broke away as I ripped my hands free. There were titters from the crowd,
but they were being overshadowed by a low moaning which I pushed to
the back of my head, concentrating more on Debbe sucking on my cock.
Her mouth was about as stretched as it was going to get
now, she had about seven inches of my cock in her mouth, and now
she knew she wasn't likely to get any more in she began to pull back,
wanking my cock with her mouth. She pulled back till only my
cockhead remained in her hot, cocksucking mouth, then pushed her head
back forward, taking as much of my member into her mouth as she
was able.
My hands had been reaching for her head, but I seemingly
thought better (after all, this was all pre-planned by me) and instead
slid my hands down past her overalls and began feeling up her wonderfully
full, plump breasts through the tight Binford shirt she had on
underneath.
She gently sucked on my cock with her lovely lips, the tip of
her tongue running up and down the shaft of my cock, pressing against
the veins and tubing through which my sperm would travel. I would have
thrown my head back to revel in the pleasure coming from the hot young
star sucking my dick but the plaster held my head in place, so instead
I kept looking down at her wonderful face as she eagerly sucked my cock
and I felt up her tits.
That low moaning was getting louder, becoming punctuated by
the occasional cry of pleasure, but I was ignoring it. I had relegated
it to what I assumed was the scene in the bar next door.
Debbi's head bobbed up and down, moving from the head of my
cock and then back down as far as she could get it. Her lips
were now stretching out a bit more and she was able to take more
of my shaft in. If she went on much longer I thought she might
be able to deep-throat my entire member, if I didn't blow my load
before then.
"Aaahhh, Debbe," I moaned,"You've earned your raise, you've
earnt your fucking raise!"
My hands released her breasts and pulled up out of the
overalls she was wearing. I grabbed her by the head and began
pushing her mouth down even deeper. With only a little added pressure
she finally got all of my cock down her throat. She defeated the gag
reflex easily, obviously having sucked cock before (I could tell, I'd
been sucked off by the best). Her nose was pressed into my pubic hair
and her chin was against my balls, adding pressure to the boiling cum
within. This was more than I could take, holding her there I pushed
my hips forward and pressed my cock even deeper, coming close to
bruising her lips.
With another Tim Taylor grunt I fired shot after shot of cum
into her mouth, shooting the sperm against the back of her throat. I
moaned happily, made a couple more unnecessary thrusts then released
her cock.
She didn't pull out immediately, instead she pulled back slightly
and went about cleaning any excess cum from my cockhead. I kept my
eyes closed and moaned happily, then finally I knew she had pulled away,
the air was cold on my glistening cock.
Neither of us had noticed that Richard had walked in halfway
during the scene, blanched and retreated. The camera's had shown him,
and I had set it up so he would do so, this would set things up for
the scene in the bar.
"Heidi," I moaned, opening my eyes but still not taking in the
audience behind her,"How'd you like to go for that parking spot
you've had your eyes on?"
-
Patricia Richardson - Jill Taylor in the show - sat at
the bar, idly making circles on the table with a straw. The
bar was practically empty, most people were still at work and
the drunks had cleared out early.
Richard entered, he had been on camera on the Tool Time
set only a few minutes earlier... but hey, this was t.v.
"Al," she said, looking up as he walked in,"Where's Tim, parking
the car?"
Richard blushed furiously, he had no idea how to tell
her what he'd just seen.
"Hey Al," said the Bartender,"I gotta unload and reload the
new kegs from out back, can you keep an eye on the bar for me?"
"Sure thing, Rudy," muttered Al. The Bartender and one of the
other customers got up and left through the back, leaving the bar empty
except for Richard and Patricia.
"What is it Al?" she asked,"What's the matter."
Richard strode forward and seated himself opposite her, he looked
at her with a mixture of fear and pity, then took her hand in both of
his.
"Al?"
"Jill.... I uh... how do I say this?"
"Try telling me Al," she said with a light tone of sarcasm, the
audience was supposed to giggle, but as I was soon to discover, they
were pre-occupied with something else.
"There was an accident on the set..." he started.
"Oh no!," cried Patricia,"Tim's stupid tricks finally caught
up with him?"
"No!" cried Richard quickly,"He got trapped in a concrete cast
and me and Heidi were trying to get him free. I went to phone you to
say we'd be late but the line was busy, so I went back to help get Tim
out and I saw..."
"What? What did you see?"
"I saw... I saw.. oh gosh I just don't know what to say I saw!"
"Al," she said, grabbing his hands now and forcing him to look
her in the eye,"Tell me the truth."
He swallowed, clenched his eyes and told her.
"I saw... I saw Heidi giving Tim orl sx...." he mumbled the last
two words quickly, but Patricia understood them nonetheless.
"She was giving him a blowjob!?!" she cried out, Richard looked
about in fear.
"Yes... I'm afraid she was."
"That jerk, I knew he wanted her!"
"Maybe she was... you know.... um, he was trapped in concrete,
maybe he couldn't stop her?"
"Oh don't give me that crap, Al!" she cried, she stood up and
he stood up as well.
"I just can't believe that Tim would do something like this, the
jerk always said I was the only one he wanted but he keeps those damn
hotrod magazines in the garage and...." she sighed,"Maybe I'm just getting
too old for him?"
"Are you kidding," cried Richard,"You're one of the sexiest, most
beautiful woman I've ever meet... Tim's an idiot to do something like
this!"
She looked up at him.
"You really think so?"
"I know so," he said.
She reached up and slid one hand under his cheek, liking the
feel of his beard. It was a lot like the one Tim had had when he first
started Tool Time.
"Jill, what..?" he started, but she raise her other hand up and
pushed one finger to his mouth.
"Shhh," she said, then leaned forward and kissed him.
End Part 1/5
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