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Celebrity Hypnotist Chapter 12 - Part 2/3
5th May, 1999
Donovan sat down at his desk slowly, looking around the small,
cramped office with an almost sad smile.
"What's the matter?" Janet asked him with genuine concern,"Is
something wrong?"
She had every right to be concerned, for just over a month now
Donovan had been acting strangely. He hadn't taken any new cases since
then, he'd been offloading long standing clients to other firms and
lawyers. True, with the money he'd made from The Celebrity Hypnotist
Trial he didn't really need to take any new cases for a little while
at least, but it wasn't like him.
"I don't...." Donovan started, then angled his head with
a quizzical smile on his face,"No, everythings fine, Janet."
"You're sure?" she asked him.
"Yes," he replied with a smile, then reached into his jacket
pocket and removed a card,"Janet, could you get ahold of this number for
me please?"
"Sure," she said, still a little concerned,"No problem."
She took the card and went to the phone at her desk - just outside
of his little, cramped office - into her smaller, more cramped workarea.
"Oh my," she said, when she saw the name above the phone number.
-
I stood in front of the full length mirror, checking my tie for
straightness.
"I look good," I said with a smile, then ran my hands down my
sides to smooth out the suit,"Damn good."
And boy, was I going to knock 'em dead tonight.
25th April, 1999.
I hung up the phone with a smile.
I'd just finished speaking with the Booth Director, who'd rung
me without knowing it. I'd being setting up a very, very large operation
since the end of March, and had several meetings with The Booth Director.
Every day now, when he was free to do so and no one was around to
see him, he would unconsciously go to the phone and ring me, and I was
able to strengthen my hypnotic conditioning. This was largely unnecessary,
but as he was the one I was counting on to run the action in the Control
Booth which would set the course for the entire night, I had decided not
to take any chances.
But meanwhile, I had more pleasurable things to think about.
I'd had my blonde earlier that month, a lovely little encounter
with Cameron Diaz, and not it was time for the first brunette.
In this case, Catherine Zeta Jones.
Catherine was the latest in a long line of Hollywood Sex Goddesses,
beautiful, sexy women who were making alot of money for being so damn
sexy.
The Welsh beauties career had started with an amusing series in
England called Darling Buds Of May, based on a series of books written
by one of the seemingly endless classic British Writers. She'd then made
some very bad movies before appearing in The Mask Of Zorro, which had
launched her to stardom. Her next movie was Entrapment with Sean Connery,
which looked like it was going to be an even bigger hit for her, although
considering the skintight gear she wears in it and Sean Connery's appeal
to both men and women, that was no real surprise.
Of course, her career really didn't bother me, I was
more interested in the more practical applications of her beauty and
sex appeal.
I stood in a stable, not a set but a real stable, cameras set up
in the appropriate locations and, of course, hidden from view.
Next to me was a horse, sitting in it's stall and looking more
interested in the copious amounts of hay set up behind me. The horse
was strictly there for eye-candy, so people would know we were in some
stables.
"What are you doing here?" asked a voice, and I twisted around,
feigning surprise.
Before me was Catherine Zeta Jones, dressed in a nightgown and
looking more aggravated than surprised to see a man dressed in a bad
cape and silly mask standing in the stables.
"Oh," I said,"Hello."
We then went word for word through the scene, taking words straight
from the script. What was supposed to follow next was a magnificently
choreographed swordfight, but since I had neither the need nor desire to
go through the arduous training procedure, I would simply have the techs
edit in the same sequence from the movie seamlessly. After all, they'd
be replacing me with Antonio Banderas throughout the entire scene via
CGI's anyway, the only person who'd ever see the original would be me,
myself and I.
Instead, we cut to the climactic scene, Catherine standing in
front of me with a quizzical look on her face as I stepped back from
finishing a series of sweeping cuts with my sword.
And then her clothes fell down around her ankle, leaving her
naked except for some strategically placed hair.
"GASP!" she gasped.
"Hehe," I hehe'ed, in my best imitation of a Spanish accent.
Before she could react I stepped forward and grabbed her arm
in mine. She tried to pull back but I easily pulled her forward so that
she was hard up against me, her breasts squashing quite nicely against
my chest.
She looked up at me, her eyes wide.
"To the victor," I said with a smile,"Go the spoils."
And then I kissed her.
In classic Hollywood fashion, she made small fists at her sides,
waved her arms around a bit and kicked up a leg, then melted into the kiss.
We broke our lip contact and I smiled again at her, she still
looked somewhat taken aback, but more a happy, pleasurably kind of shock
then a how-dare-you-cut-away-my-clothes-and-then-force-yourself-on-me
kind of shock.
"Who are you?" she asked me.
"El Zorro," I replied dramatically.
"Who?" she asked.
So much for dramatic flair.
"My name is not important," I said,"All that matters is you, and
me."
We kissed again, and this time I traced my fingers down her back
and slid the tips over her smooth, curved asscheeks. Circling over her
buttocks for a moment, I then slid my fingers back up her hips, over her
sides and past her breasts.
She suddenly pulled away and I put a look of surprise on my
face, even though all of this had been exactly planned out.
"Wha...?" I started, and she put a finger to my lips, then dropped
to her knees in front of me.
I rolled my eyes up at the ceiling and mouthed the words thank
you, and then it was my pants falling down around my ankles.
With no hesitation whatsoever the beautiful brunette leaned her
head forward took my hard meat into her mouth, softly sucking on my erect
cockshaft.
I moaned happily as I felt the hot, wet warmth of her magnificent
mouth covering my cock, sending sharp pules of erotic pleasure throughout
every extremity of my body as the beautiful Catherine Zeta Jones. Her
glorious mouth engulfing my manhood, her warm, moist lips gently sucking
up and down over my erection. The warm, wet O of her lips felt incredible
as she slowly bobbed her head up and down, going further and further down
on me with every bob of her head.
My cock was alive with pleasure, every nerve ending seemed to
be on fire, hot, sexual fire. My cock seemed to swell even larger inside
of her mouth, a combination of both her oral stimulation and just the
incredibly erotic image of her running her mouth up and down over my lap.
Catherine began to move her tongue around over my cock, running
along the underside of my penis, slurping around the head of my cock and
then pulling her mouth back to the point where it seemed the blowjob
was about to finish, then plunging back down to the base of my cock,
engulfing my cock in her warm, moist mouth.
I reached down and slid my hands between her long, smooth, dark
hair, pushing her down gently, feeding more and more of my cock into her
mouth. I got as deep into her as I knew I could, then pulled back slightly
before thrusting back in, and before I knew it I was facefucking the
beautiful Catherine Zeta Jones.
The hot wetness of her mouth was incredible, and I could feel
cum boiling up in my balls, and so with regret I gripped her by the head
and pulled her face gently - but firmly - away.
She looked up at me with a look of concerned surprise, as if unsure
if I had enjoyed the blowjob or not.
To answer her unasked question, I just smiled and pointed at
the big bale of hay a few yards away.
She got the point pretty quickly.
She moved over to the hay, giving me a good look at her smooth,
tight ass, and then with an almost childish cry of delight launched herself
into the hay.
I quickly followed herself and dropped to my knees in front of
her, where she lay in the hay, legs slightly spread and face alight with
eager anticipation.
I leaned forward and kissed her again, gently on the lips, then
the chin, then down the neck, peppering her with kisses until I came to
one of her small - yet firm - breasts. Lowering my mouth to her erect
nipple, and lightly blew on it, making her moan out lightly and arch her
back slightly, thrusting her chest out towards me.
I closed my lips over Catherine Zeta Jones' pink, erect nipple and
sucked lightly on her before nibbling away at the small, erect nipple.
Her entire body seemed to ripple with pleasure, her back arched
and her eyes closed, her mouth parted and a little moan coming from her
throat.
I moved across to her other breast, repeating my mouth actions
on that breast, sending waves of pleasure throughout the Welsh beauties
body. As I sucked at her nipples, I ran my hands up along the inside
of her thighs, cupping her cuntmound and sliding a finger up inside her
vagina, making her hump her lap up against my palm.
I moved my mouth away from her other breast and began to kiss down
her narrow, lightly tanned waist. I could feel the heat radiating up
from her vagina, hot and tight around my finger, making me wonder what
it would feel like to have my dick in there.
I lightly kissed her on each thigh before I blew lightly on her
clitoris, then brushed my lips up over her cuntlips, making the beautiful
celebrity moaned out loud and this time bring her hands down to grab at
my head, forcing her hips up against my mouth.
I slid my tongue between her cuntlips, pressing it between them
and up into her tight, juicy snatch, running my tongue up and down between
her vagina, tasting her juices, which were flowing steadily. I got a good
taste of her cunt, and then pulled my mouth away, making her moan in
disappointment. But she quickly grew excited again when I began to crawl
my way up over her body, she knew what was coming next.
I was quickly positioned between her legs and pressed my cock
forward, parting her pussylips and sliding my way up inside of Catherine
Zeta Jones' cunt.
Delicious! She was tight! Her cunt eagerly gripping onto my cock
from the moment the head of my penis entered her and practically sucking
me in, not that I fought it at all. I groaned happily as I pushed into
her, a moan she echoed happily as she felt me fill her up, my cock pushing
up into her cunt.
Her hands wrapped around my waist, her fingers pressing
hard into my skin as I began to pump in and out of her, faster and faster,
fucking the hot Welsh Beauty happily, loving the feel of her celebrity
cunt around my cockshaft.
She thrust her hips up against mine, our thrusts synchronized
to make the sex even better. Our eyes were locked together, her hair was
sweaty and plastered against her face, her mouth wide open and gasping
out hot puffs of breath.
I thrust myself into her, making long, sinking thrusts deep inside
of her hot pussy, burying my member right to the hilt, knowing that we
were both approaching orgasm, her hips banging against mine faster and
harder, losing the rhythm, but none of it mattering anymore, only our
mutual pleasure was important.
"YES!!!! Ahhh....ah! YESSSSS!!!!!!" squealed Catherine Zeta
Jones as she came.
"OOOGGFFF!!!!" I grunted, coming as well.
Her cunt gripped down on me and she pulled me hard against her,
her breasts squashing against my chest, her legs spread wide, tight little
ass squirming against the hay as I fired shot after shot of cum deep up her
cunt, even as it flooded with her pussyjuices.
After my orgasm had subsided, and once hers had finally wound
down, I made a couple of more slow, lazy fucks into her cunt, then I pulled
off her and rolled onto my back, lying next to her in the hay.
We both lay there, panting heavily, my chest rising, her breasts
rising and falling, her legs spread, a languorous, sated look on her face.
I'd had my blonde, I'd had my brunette, I'd enjoyed both of them
extremely.
Now it was time to re-announce my presence to the world.
6th May, 1999
"Good evening, sir," said the man with a polite but restrained
smile,"May I see your invitation?"
Celebrity didn't mean much at these events, without an invite
you didn't get in, no matter who you were. There was no room for egos
either, none of the 'don't you know who I am?' routine used usually by
very insecure or not very famous people .
I handed my invitation to him and immediately his
polite, restrained smile became a polite, larger smile. His demeanor
became more respectful, his entire body seemed to relax.
"Excellent sir, enjoy the evening."
I walked past him, hearing him say to Kevin Costner in a polite,
but restrained, voice if he could say his invitation, then suddenly
changing his entire demeanor upon presentation of said invitation, and
saying respectfully,"Excellent sir, enjoy the evening."
I couldn't help but smile.
I took my seat and looked around at some of the gathering people,
mostly at this point were hangers-on and leeches, drifting around from
Designer to Designer, praising them lavishly and heaping disdain upon
their rivals, then moving to the rivals and heaping praise on them and
disdain on the person they'd just been with.
I smiled to myself, I'd finally found a lifestyle that was more
false than the movie industry - the Fashion industry.
I was here to attend one of countless Fashion Evenings (always
with a capital F & E) that would be held this year, each one claiming
to be the biggest Fashion Event of the season, each one jam packed with
cool old Designers, hot new Designers, Fashion Icons and celebrities,
most of whom seemed fascinated by being in the presence of
another 'beautiful person' industry.
I was there to have sex.
As the next hour progressed people fed almost entirely on wine
and small hor d'eouves, the building crowd getting louder and louder,
talking about trips to Aspen and The Riviera, about the most outrageous
new thing, darling, etc, etc and so-forth ad infinitum.
And then the lights went out.
Most of the people gasped out loud, there were a few nervous
laughs and obnoxious young men making bad jokes about forgetting to pay
the powerbill.
I already knew what was coming, and didn't bother to calm the
young woman beside me who was asking loudly just what the fuck was going
on.
A spotlight came on, centred right on the catwalk in the middle
of the room, bringing to light a single, solitary figure.
"Ladies... and gentlemen," she said, looking up with a slight
smile on her face,"I give you.... Ode To The Millennium."
The lights burst back on with a huge burst, and dancers burst
onto the scene, dressed in the traditional gear of almost every culture
on Earth, different beats of music playing for each and every culture,
somehow mixing together and maintaining a beat that everybody in the
room smiling and nodding along to the music. A techno beat began to
play along underneath the music, and all the various musics began to
fade out, to be replaced by the techno beat.
The light show was complimented nicely by all the flashing cameras
that popped from the large number of photographers there. In fact, all
eyes were on the stage, and all ears.
Just as I had planned.
When the lights had gone out, I'd placed ear plugs into my ears,
and avoided looking directly at the lightshow. Although I'd already
self-hypnotized myself to be unaffected by the subliminal conditioning
running underneath the techno-music, as well as the hypnotic quality
of the specially designed lightshow, (*) I wasn't going to take any
chances.
One of the great things about Fashion shows is the fact that
music is played almost constantly, usually only being muted slightly
when someone needed to be heard over it. It was a happy situation I'd
only seen in one other place, a nightclub I'd had rigged similarly back
during my preparation for The Bat-Orgy, where'd I'd fucked Drew Barrymore
in front of an unseeing crowd.
Which in turn had reminded me of what I'd done with Uma Thurman
in that restaurant. (**)
Over the next couple of hours I sat and watched various women
walking up and down the catwalk, receiving cheers and applause for wearing
different types of clothes, or lack thereof.
I must say I was surprised at the number of blonde, six foot
seven, size 2 women there were in the world.
Over those two hours, my hypnotic conditioning - piped in under
the music by the Sound Crew, working under the orders of MY
Booth Director - continued to work on the crowd, who weren't
just entranced by the beautiful women.
And then, when the time was right, as one of the biggest stars
of the night stepped out and received tumultuous applause from
the assembled onlookers, the lights went out again.
(*) Unlike the hypnotic device which The Organization tried to
force on The CH in earlier chapters, this light show is designed to
accentuate The CH's hypnotic conditioning, rather than to place the
viewer in a hypnotic state.
(**) Both recounted in Celebrity Hypnotist Chapter Four.
End Celebrity Hypnotist Chapter 12, Part 2/3