Okay, let's make this short and simple.
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to view pornography in order for you to read this story, no exceptions.
I am the author of this story, it is a work of fantasy, it is
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You can find my and other Author's stories at the following
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are mine, I'm JUST an Author :
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.
Stuff you might like to know : The Celebrity Hypnotist is
a Celebrity himself (his identity not yet revealed) who works for
the powerful, manipulative Organization first revealed in my early
story - Celebrity Rapist. Recently The CH survived an attempt by
high ranking Organization member Lisa Kudrow to reveal his actions,
this ultimately led to the ruin of Lisa's career in both
Entertainment and possibly The Organization. Getting back to
business, The CH set about hypnotizing and setting up scenes with
various blond and brunette movie stars. He started with Cameron
Diaz, Catherine Zeta Jones and Claudia Schiffer.
In this chapter, he finishes this theme by targeting
Gwyneth Paltrow, Charlize Theron, Deborah Kara Unger and Angelina
Jolie.
Celebrity Hypnotist Chapter 13 Part 1/4
Blondes & Brunette's Part 2/2
June 17th - Office Of The Head - 5:15 AM.
-----------------------------------------
The Receptionist was new to the office, but not to the position,
as he liked to joke to whoever he could.
George Fuller had worked for Kevin Spacey for several years,
and while neither man considered the other to be a close friend, both
had respect and trust in each other, and Kevin knew that he could rely on
the man. When Kevin's predecessor had been murdered, George had been
temporarily unemployed for several weeks until the previous Receptionist
had been moved back into the Secretarial Pool and George had been called
back up to do the same old job he'd always done, but now with better pay
and privileges.
He was in earlier today than usual, he hadn't asked why he was
needed over two hours before it was required and no reason had been given,
and so far all he'd done was sit at his desk and re-sort his files.
A ding caused George to start, and he looked up in surprise at
the elevator doors just 15 yards away. Who was coming up at 5:15 in the
morning? Kevin usually only got 4 or 5 visitors on a busy day, and usually
never before noon.
The doors opened and George's eyes widened as a very disheveled
and tired looking Tom Cruise stepped through the doors, looking more than
a little pissed off.
He made his way to the desk, weaving slightly as if he was drunk,
until George realized that he was dead on his feet, totally physically
exhausted.
"He... hello, can I help you?" George asked, his heart in his
throat.
Tom sighed inwardly, seeing the way the man was looking at him.
He was used to adoration and disbelief in the eyes of his fans,
was even used to the loving looks of the young female girls who screamed
at him at Premieres and Award Ceremonies. Unfortunately he was also
used to the looks he got from certain males, a look akin to those young
girls, but skewed with a slight arrogance and sense of smugness. George
was obviously gay, and he'd heard the stories that the tabloids spread
about him, coupled with the accusations of his former wife, making George
think that maybe he had a chance with Tom, maybe he could get some.
He really didn't have time to deal with that kind of game today,
so he just snapped at The Receptionist.
"He's expecting me, buzz me through."
"I'll just check...." started George, his eyes not leaving Tom's,
thinking maybe that he could hypnotize the superstar, that he could enjoy
the sort of rendezvous losers wrote about on the Internet.
"Just buzz me through!" snapped Tom, doing his best to be an
asshole and stop the prick staring at him.
"It's all right, George," said Kevin's voice through the
intercom,"Let him in."
George held Tom's gaze a moment more, a cool look of smug arrogance
there, as if he was saying,'I know your secret, pal, you're no better than
the rest of us.'
Tom didn't bother to hold the gaze, he was tired and pissed off,
he'd just spent well over 20 hours on a plane, coming over from Australia
where he and his wife were engaged in different movie and theater projects.
He stormed into the office and waited for the doors to close,
which effectively soundproofed the room.
"You have a good reason to be calling me in here without
explanation?" he snapped at Kevin, who was sitting calmly behind his
desk, the huge window behind him showing the lightening darkness and
bright lights of the big city.
"I wouldn't be taking that attitude with me, Tom," Kevin said
calmly, and held up a videotape,"Your position is tenuous as it is."
"What?" asked Tom, confused.
"I have here an advance copy of your latest movie," Kevin said
dryly,"Some of the subject matter is... disconcerting to say the least."
"What? Is that Eye's Wide Shut? No one should have a copy of..."
"Shut up," Kevin snapped, and for the first time the fact that
Kevin's calmness was a facade, covering his fury, pierced the tired fog
of Tom's mind,"Of course I was able to get a copy, I was intrigued about
the movie. Luckily, only myself, Nicole, Terry, Bob and yourself have
seen it, apart from Stanley of course, and he's gone," Kevin paused,
letting this sink in for a second,"And it just might remain that way."
"I.. I don't understand," Tom said finally,"You didn't like the
movie or.....?
"Oh, it's a great movie," Kevin interupted,"An excellent study of
sexual repression and all that good crap, but what concerns me is the
scene in the middle of the movie."
"The orgy? What was wrong with...."
"Oh let me see, Tom, what was it?" Kevin snapped sarcastically,
angrily,"A secret society of men in important social positions throwing
huge, giant orgies with the worlds most beautiful women and threatening
physical harm to any who stumble across their secret.... sound
familiar to you?"
Tom, to make a bad pun, suddenly had his eyes wide open as for
the first time he saw it.
"Oh my...."
"Oh yes," muttered Kevin darkly,"Now, do you have anything to
tell me?"
"Kevin, you can't think that I told Stanley anything?"
"I can think whatever I want, Tom," replied Kevin, putting emphasis
on the movie star's first name,"It's up to you to prove those thoughts
wrong. Now let me put this as straightforward as possible, and I want a
yes or a no for an answer."
He leaned forward from behind his desk, his face grim, his mouth
a thin line,"Did you let Stanley Kubrick know, even indirectly, of the
existence of our Organization?"
"No," replied Tom, without hesitation, his stomach full
of butterflies, flushes of coldness running throughout his entire nervous
system,"No."
Kevin leaned back and let out a long gasp, and for the first
time Tom realized how much pent up tension had been in The Head's body.
"I believe you, Tom," he said,"But for now we have to work out
just what Mr. Kubrick did know, and what we can do about this movie."
7 hours earlier, and a few thousand miles away, I was enjoying
a party and totally oblivious to the problems inherent in Stanley's
Kubrick's last masterpiece.
I didn't often go to Hollywood parties, whenever I was able I
preferred to be on my own in my home in New York. The media were, of
course, totally unaware of where I really lived. The Organization had
provided a cover for me upon signing up, including the odd 'scoop' for
the media of photos of me at my home with members of my family, having
a grand old time and all that. Of course, in reality I was an orphan
and single, but that was neither here nor there.
I was at this particular party because Angelina Jolie was going
to be there, and she was one of the brunettes that would complete my
collection of Blondes and Brunettes for my latest escapade.
I stepped over a very drunk Charisma Carpenter, suppressing my
disgust at not just her, but anyone who had so little control
over themselves. I felt the same way about stars, agents and sporting
personalities who resorted to drugs, heavy drinking and the like. If
you had to do something, then do it in a controlled manner, don't let it
control you. I'd once considered asking for permission to bring Robert
Downey Junior into The Organization as a sort of protege, but when I'd
discovered that not only did he have a serious drug problem, but that
he was unable or unwilling to kick it, I'd washed my hands of him entirely
and never considered any kind of prodigy or apprentice, although I had had
Bart forced upon me for a brief time due to Lisa Kudrow's
interference.
The music was pumping just a bit too loudly, the song was just a
bit too incoherent. I sighed as I realized I was getting older, and that
most of the people at this party were much younger than I. Of course,
most of them were flash in the pan stars, but some of them would still be
around in twenty years. The funny thing was, although many of them would
make many more movies than I would, and would almost certainly win more
awards, I would always be the more successful, because The Organization
looked after their own.
I had noticed earlier a group of stars with no connection that
I was aware of spending a great deal of time together, and as I waited
for Ms. Jolie to make an appearance, my imagination ran wild with reasons
that they might be together. Thoughts running from the dull - they were
just good friends - to the lecherous - they were much more than friends -
to the absurd - they were part of a rival Organization - to the absurdly
lecherous - they were part of an Organization of lesbian lovers that just
made love all the time.
They were a disparate bunch, Sarah Michelle Gellar and Jennifer
Love Hewitt had an obvious connection, but how they were friends with
Winona Ryder, Bridget Fonda, Alyssa Milano and Jennie Garth was beyond
me, as those four were a fairly diverse bunch as well, and of course,
when Heather Locklear joined them I was even more confused. Hadn't I
read something about two or more of that group starting up their own
company? And something about a shooting kept coming to mind for some
reason. There were so many young stars opening their own production
houses nowadays that it was impossible to keep track of them all, yet
still, something was niggling at my subconscious.
I turned to make my way upstairs, hoping to get away from the
noise for awhile, and bumped into a tall, well built man, causing him
to spill his drink onto my shirt.
"Hey!" he cried.
- Idiot, - I thought, then said,"Sorry, I should have
been watching where I was going."
"No, no, my fault," said the man,"Sorry about the shirt, it looks
expensive."
"Oh no, just an old casual thing," I lied. The shirt was very
expensive and we both knew it, but I was in character, playing the not
so important celebrity trying not to be overwhelmed by the presence of
so many other, more important celebrities. In reality, I was, of course,
completely assured of my own superiority, but it would not do to act
arrogant around so many others who falsely believed the same,"I was heading
to the bathroom anyway, I'll clean it up there."
"Yeah, whatever," muttered the man, clearly distracted as he
eyed the group of women I'd been watching earlier, who were currently
laughing at some private joke. It was then that I recognized who he
was.
"Say, you're Bridget Fonda's new husband, aren't you?" I asked.
"Hmmm? Yeah, Steve, pleased to meet you," he said, shaking my
hand, which I hadn't offered,"You've got that show, right?"
"Yeah, that show," I replied, seeing that he was actually irritated
at my continued presence, he wanted to go talk with his wife and her
friends,"Anyway, I'm gonna go clean this shirt you messed up."
I felt a vague sense of satisfaction as he turned to answer the
implied insult, knowing that my back was already to him and that if he
wanted to continue this conversation he'd have to come after me. I made
my way up the stairs, my back turned to him, so that I didn't notice
when Bridget Fonda arrived next to him with a glass of champagne and
watched him watching me.
"Something wrong?" she asked him.
"Hmmm? no," Steve replied,"Just something about that guy, a bad
vibe, I don't know, nothing I guess."
He turned and made his way back with her to talk with the others,
who were delighted at his presence.
I stepped into the bathroom with no other intent than to clean
my shirt, but the moment I stepped inside I had completely reassessed the
situation.
Sitting on the sink, hunched over and looking miserable, was
Angelina Jolie.
"Oh," I said,"Are you all right?"
She looked up at me and managed a weak smile,"Hi," she
said,"Sorry, do you have to use the toilet?"
"Oh no," I said with a smile,"Some jerk spilt a drink over my
shirt, I just came up here to clean up."
"Probably the same guy whose been coming on to me all night,"
she replied,"I'm sorry, I've been feeling sick all night, I shouldn't
have come to this party, I usually don't do this kind of thing."
"Me neither," I said, sitting down on the side of the bath,"But
Hollywood is such a fickle thing, if you're not at the right party, if
you don't kiss the right producers ass, you miss out on a part or you're
no longer part of the scene, and the next thing you know you're a has-been
and a nobody."
"Don't I know it," she muttered,"I win a golden globe, I get
critical acclaim and then I'm making Pushing Tin."
I laughed and she joined me, and in that moment I knew I was
in. I had broken the ice and she had relaxed, now she was in the perfect
position for me to begin the most basic of my conditioning, to set up
another meeting where I could create the scene in her mind that would
lead to the crowning moment of my Blondes and Brunette's experiment.
"Pushing Tin," I chuckled,"I remember first hearing about it and
having a good laugh. Here's four great actors, John Cusack, Billy Bob
Thornton, Cate Blanchett and you, all of you making great movies that
nobody watches and then getting together and making a cookie-cutter
comedy."
"Right," she laughed,"Just so people won't forget we exist and
we can't make the movies we want to.... shit, all that movie was missing
was John Malkovich."
I laughed again, genuinely amused at her sense of humor, taken
also by her beauty, her big, soulful eyes that danced with amusement.
Here we were, a couple of people sitting in the bathroom and
having a good time while below us a large group of young celebrities
were drinking themselves to unconsciousness and ingesting large amounts
of drugs. It didn't get much better than that.
Office Of The Head - 12:07 PM.
------------------------------
The technical expert nodded to himself as he watched the orgy
take place.
"I can spot the digital characters," he said,"Whoever Kubrick
got to do the job is good, but lightyears behind where we are."
"Whatever," muttered Kevin,"The question is, can you remove
those scenes I highlighted without losing the continuity of the actual
movie."
"I think so, yes," replied the Tech,"But some of the more subtle
elements of the movie are going to be lost, this is going to affect the
movie overall, especially if we take out the scene with Mr. Cruise and
The Senator...."
"That scene especially has to go," interupted Kevin, tired and
in no mood to hear a tech-monkey's critical analysis of Stanley Kubrick's
final movie,"The parallels are much too disturbing."
Tom had cringed at each and every cut as if it was a physical
blow, several times he'd opened his mouth to protest and been silenced
by curt glares from Kevin, who was in no mood for objections.
Finally the tech was finished making his notes, and taking the
film canister with him left the office.
"You have a problem?" Kevin asked, now that they were finally
alone.
"Yes," Tom snapped bitterly,"That movie was an absolute masterpiece
and you've chopped it and cut it... Stanley would never have let....."
"Stanley's dead, Tom!" Kevin snapped,"Get over it!"
"But what you just did," cried Tom in despair,"It's tantamount
to censorship, what are we? Nazi's burning books?"
"I don't have time for philosophical arguments,"
muttered Kevin,"You think I enjoyed hacking up that movie, destroying
a genius' last creation? The movie is still a great movie, it'll just
lose that extra something now and you know what? it won't matter, because
if you slapped Stanley Kubrick's name onto a Roger Corman movie there
would be thousands of students and film-buffs around the world interpreting
the social significance of the big titted bimbo getting her bra ripped
off by the cardboard fucking crocodile!"
His voice had gotten louder and louder, and with each word Tom
had flinched back again and again, taken aback by Kevin's anger.
"Now listen up!" snapped Kevin, firmly cementing the fact that HE
was The Head, and Tom, as favored as he was in The Organization, was
just a member,"You're complaining about the corruption of this movie,
your artistic sensibilities are offended and you're about to give another
tearful speech that'll earn you another Oscar nomination. But remember
this, remember when a certain actor who was spiraling down out
of popularity, deep in debt and high on drugs went to a certain rag to
tell a few stories about him and you when you were first starting out in
your career. Remember how we silenced him? Remember how it pulled the
rug out from under the tabloid's feet and you were able to sue them and
get an apology? I don't recall you crying about abuse of power back then,
do you?"
Tom glared at Kevin angrily, then nodded curtly, spun about on
one foot and left the office.
"Shit," muttered Kevin angrily, wishing that he could take back
what he'd just said.
A soundset, somewhere in L.A - 12:21 PM.
----------------------------------------
While Kevin risked alienating Tom, I was settling down on a
nice, comfortable couch, ready to assume a role that he himself had
made infamous several years ago.
The lounge I sat in was barely furnished, indicating that the
occupant had either a Spartan lifestyle or had only recently moved in.
With boxes sprawled here and there the latter theory was proved, whoever
was living here had only just moved in.
I heard the key turn in the lock and smiled, over five weeks of
preparation was coming to a head with the opening of this door. I had
been getting this and other scenes ready since I'd screwed Claudia Schiffer
on the catwalk in front of hundreds of celebrities, reporters and fashion
designers.
She stepped through the door and didn't even notice me, too busy
trying to get her keys back into her pocket, the door closed and the
two bags of groceries balanced in her hands.
Finally she turned around, took in the sight of me, and let the
groceries and the keys drop to the floor.
"Wh... wha.... who are you?" she asked, too shocked at my unexpected
appearance to be scared.
"I expected that," I said with a smile, unconsciously taking on
a similar voice pattern and style to Kevin Spacey. It was
totally unnecessary, since the techs would put a coded computer voice
over my own dialogue designed to copy his tone, inflection and speaking
style,"You're husband wouldn't know either, even though we've been up
close and personal before.... but his partner would, his partner is the
smart one, the one to avoid."
"What are you doing in my house!" she tried to snap, but now
concern and a small amount of fear had entered her voice. She didn't
know who I was, she didn't know how I'd gotten in, and I knew her husband,
which could mean I was a cop or a criminal. Her eyes widened and an
involuntary gasp escaped her as a new possibility came to her, and I
smiled.
"Your house?" I asked, tilting my head slightly, a small frown
touching my lips,"Possesiveness, not a major sin, but a sin nonetheless."
That clinched it for her, she knew who I was, knew I was the man
her husband and his partner had been chasing. She had no name for me,
but she knew of the five unspeakable crimes I'd already committed, and
her mind was instantly thinking of the two possibilities left.... wrath
and envy.
"Yes, my darling," I said with a smile,"I am Him, the sick freak
that had your husband on his knees before me, a gun to his head and
his urine running down his leg to join the muddied rain as he realized
for the first time that this wasn't a game, that his life was very much
in danger."
She drew in a breath and I instantly knew what she planned, after
all, I'd programmed her to do it.
"Don't bother," I said, holding up a hand,"I fed your dogs drugged
steaks, they're unconscious in their little room, unable to help you."
Her held breath exhaled, her body drooped as she realized that
she was at the mercy of a madman.
"The irony is," I said,"In your misguided attempt to protect
yourself, in getting all those locks on your doors, you've doomed yourself,
by the time you get those keys of the floor, by the time you've unlocked
the first bolt, I'll have you, and I won't even be breathing hard."
"Please," the beautiful blond cried,"Don't kill me."
I sighed as I straightened my shirt and sat up a little
straighter.
"Oh no," I laughed,"I have much more fun ideas in store for us,
you my dear, are going to be a tool to help me humiliate and destroy
your husband as revenge for costing me my apartment, I'd grown fond of
that lovely little place."
"What?" she asked, confused.
"How do you think I've done what I've done and lasted so long
without discovery," I said,"Why do you think I've chosen such a....
biblical method of committing my crimes."
"I don't understand."
"You see," I said, ignoring her,"A mere mortal would have... oh I
don't know, chopped your head off and mailed it to a location where I
would have organized your husband and I to meet. Having proved my sin
of envy, your husband would have become wrath and killed me, and my
masterpiece would have been complete."
"Mere mortal?" she was more confused than ever.
"But I'm no mortal my dear," I chuckled, leaning forward,"I can
cause any human to fall prey to any of the sins I chose, just by snapping
my fingers."
"You're mad," she whispered, realizing what I was saying,"You
think you're the devil?"
"Oh no," I laughed,"Nothing that spectacular, I'm just a lowly
demon given free reign for a few decades on earth."
I leaned back in my chair,"But I must say, I don't mind repeating
myself to someone as lovely as yourself."
And I snapped my fingers, saying the necessary word to complete
Gwyneth Paltrow's conditioning.
"Lust."
Offices Of Salinger, Gorman & McKenzie - 12:37 PM.
--------------------------------------------------
A slight cough brought Donovan's attention back to the real world,
and looking up he saw Alex McKenzie, the third partner of the prestigious
law firm he'd recently joined, standing in the doorway, smiling down at
the copious files, open books and folders all over the office floor, desk
and furniture.
"We've given you one of the biggest offices available for an
associate," he chuckled,"And you still don't have any room to sit down."
Donovan grinned sheepishly, this plush office was so much better
than his old law offices, when he'd practiced independantly. It had a
window view - albeit of the back of the next building, but a window
nonetheless - and plenty of room, which he'd taken up quickly with
research into the case he was currently first chairing with Alex, as he
insisted on being called.
"Is something the matter, Alex?" asked Donovan,"Or is this a social
call?"
Alex chuckled,"Ever the lawyer, eh? Always asking questions, aren't
we... I just came to check if you're working through lunch again or if you
thought you might actually eat today."
Donovan allowed a small smile to cross his lips.
"Janet's getting me a sandwich from the old deli where we used
to work," he said,"I want to be prepared for this case, the law is very
open to interpretation in several key areas and opposing council could hit
us with some big surprises."
"We're taking note of all this hard work, Donovan," Alex said
seriously,"Keep it up, and maybe Salinger might finally consider adding
a fourth partner to this firm.... in twenty or twenty-five years."
Donovan stared at him, uncomprehending, then laughed as he realized
Alex was being deadpan.
"As long as we're on our game tomorrow, Mr. Cortez will be a
free man and all this research will be worth it," he said,"And that's
the important thing."
"Exactly," replied Alex,"An innocent man, wrongly accused by
racist immigration officers and an apathetic justice system simply because
he's of Columbian descent. It's moment like this that's what it's all
about."
Donovan nodded, happy to be working within the system to make
changes for the common good.
Outside in the hallway, Alex suppressed a laugh at the thought
of Donovan's tireless work for a vicious, heartless drug-dealer who was
rumored to have had killed over a dozen men personally and ordered the
murder of dozens, if not hundreds of others.
Alex McKenzie was a man who could appreciate irony.
A soundset, somewhere in L.A - 12:41 PM.
----------------------------------------
I'd appreciated Gwyneth Paltrow's beauty when I first saw Se7en,
but hadn't really given her another thought, concentrating more on the
incredible film direction, Morgan Freeman's brilliant acting, which
even lifted Brad Pitt's own abilities up so high that he didn't annoy
me, and of course, Kevin Spacey's chilling appearance at the end of the
movie.
Then I'd come across the pictures of her naked outside Mr. Pitt's
room, showing off her pussy and tits unknowingly to the camera as Brad
slid his hands and other body parts over her. I made a point of watching
some of her other movies then, not being all that impressed with Jefferson
in Paris, Malice, Mrs. Parker and the Vicious Circle or Hard Eight. She'd
been all right in Great Expectations, but overall I'd been disappointed
in that movie and hadn't bothered to see Hush or Sliding Doors. She was
attractive but not so much that I'd watch boring or uninteresting movies
just to see her.
Of course, then Shakespeare in Love had come along and again
there was huge interest in her, she took the Oscar away from the much
more talented Cate Blanchett on the same day that I'd put forward the
concept of Blondes and Brunettes to Kevin, and she'd been on the list,
due entirely to the exposure from Shakespeare.
And if the Bard's words had sounded good coming from her mouth,
the muffled exclamations of pleasure issuing from Gwyneth Paltrow's
cockstuffed mouth now sounded even better.
End Part 1/4
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