The Mystery of the Mad Mesmerist 6 (hypno celeb)

Disclaimer: This story contains male/male sex, s/m role-play, and hypnofetishism. If you are not of legal age, (eg.18+) or offended by such subjects, then stop reading, you pervert! Perhaps you are living in a backwater community that frowns on such explicit materials. In such a case, stop reading, FEEL MY HUG, and know that I feel genuinely sorry for you. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real events or people, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

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Fenton Hardy sat down in his favorite chair in the living room to watch the 6:00 PM news as was his evening custom.

"Our top story today, the First and Second National Banks of Bayport, unexpectedly exploded today. In each case, only three bodies were found among the rubble, that of two policemen and a civilian who seemingly was left behind as bait. Shortly after the second explosion, the Third National Bank's silent alarm was triggered. Proceeding more cautiously this time, police found the vault emptied and the Bank Manager left tied up and gagged sitting on a homemade detonator and wearing a vest with enough plastic explosive to crack a dent in Tammy Fay Baker Messner's makeup. Police presume this was also the case in the first two banks as well. We'll have more on this story as it develops. In other news, people were shocked and appalled when, in a tape recently delivered COD to Interpol, Osama Bin Ladin declared..."

Fenton switched off the TV "Oh Boys!" he yelled, "I think I've got a new case for you..."

* * *

"Police conclude the deaths of the victims in the explosions of the first and second banks to have been instantaneous. Elsewhere in the world, a family was shaken and baked when their house suffered under a powerful earthquake and then exploded when a gas main ignited. Father and daughter escaped but there are three other family members missing and presumed..."

Mesmero switched off the TV. He sat back heavily in the armchair where he was sitting. Both he and Tony had spent the day hiding out in Tony's small, dingy apartment. They both knew they couldn't hide forever, but since his brother figured they were dead, Mesmero decided it was a safe enough place to hide out until Evil Mes made his move.

"Well," Mesmero said, sighing heavily, "It has begun."

* * *

Since Mrs. Hardy disapproved of them talking shop during dinner, the Hardy boys hastened through the meal. Afterward the three of them gathered in the study and Fenton described what he had heard on the news.

After further discussion, Fenton phoned his contact at the police department and inquired if there had been any clues found at the scene. There was nothing. Mr. Hardy then obtained permission to examine the scene for himself. Fenton, Joe, and Frank then gathered up some supplies including high powered flashlights and magnifying glasses and prepared to set out for what was once the First National Bank.

Just as they were leaving, Joe's cell rang.

"Just a sec, I'll be right there," Joe called. The blond youth opened the chirping phone and held it to his ear. "Joe Hardy here, what's...I'm listening...Yes...Yes, I understand...Just a moment....Frank! Frank! It's, uh, Chet. He needs to talk to you for a minute."

Frank hurried over. "Well, he'll have to make it snappy. Time's a' wastin'. Chet? What's up, bud...?"

Minutes later, Frank, Joe, and Fenton were on their way. Joe was driving as he had jumped at the chance to add practice time to his learner's permit, Fenton was in the front seat and Frank was in the back.

"Keep your hands on ten and two, son," Fenton instructed with parental nervousness, "Take the next left."

"I know the way, Dad," Joe said in annoyance.

"So, Dad," Frank broke in to break the tension, "What do you think we should look for when we get to the scene? I mean, in particular."

"Oh, the usual. Blood samples, hair, maybe personal articles. There'll be something. The criminal always makes a mistake. Always."

"True enough Dad. True enough." Joe said.

"We're almost there!" Fenton said excitedly, "Here we are. And there we go. Why aren't you stopping Joe!? Joe!? Stop, Joe!"

"Now, Frank!" Joe cried. At the same time Fenton heard a loud ripping noise behind him. A second after that he felt Frank's arms reach around him from the back and pull him back against the soft front seat. Frank wrapped a silver band around his chest and too late, Fenton realized it was duct tape! Frank wrapped the tape several times more around his father's chest, pinning his biceps to his sides at the same time.

Usually, Fenton would have expanded his chest, flexed his muscles, a technique that would have let him escape later but he was so shocked that by the time he thought of doing it, it was too late.

Frank moved lower, wrapping tape around Fenton's waist, securing him to the seat and trapping his lower arms as well.

"Frank, Joe! What's going on?" Fenton cried out, struggling wildly.

"Hey, Frank! Wrap some of that higher up, will'ya? At best it'll stop the stupid questions. Not to mention the driving lessons! Ten and two! Ten and two!" he mimicked maliciously.

"You got it, bro!" Frank wrapped the tape over and around Fenton's mouth, once around the neck and then several times around the headrest, pinning the senior Hardy's head to the seat, eyes straight forward.

Rain began to spatter against the windshield as Fenton struggled in his sticky bonds and groaned in impotent panic against his tight gag. Impossible as it might seem he had just been kidnapped by his own sons!

* * *

The smattering rain had turned into a downpour by the time they reached the abandoned warehouse down by the wharf near Bayport Bay.

Lightning flashed and thunder crashed, lighting up the ancient building. Tall smokestacks spiked into the sky and the dozens of dark windows made the building look Halloween spooky.

As Joe drove up to the warehouse, Fenton's mind was racing a mile a minute. What on earth had gotten into Frank and Joe? Why had they come here? What was going to happen to him now? And who on earth was pulling the strings?

Fenton felt his bonds being cut by Frank's Swiss Army knife that HE had given him for a birthday present although his gag was left in place.

"One false move, old man, and I'll use this knife to gut you like a fish. Got it?"

Fenton nodded, shuddering as he felt the point of Frank's knife at the base of the back of his neck.

Frank and Joe marched their father through the rain and knocked loudly on the warehouse door three times, paused, then quickly two times. The door opened and they hustled inside.

Inside, the warehouse was dry, but still dark and Halloweeny. The interior stretched away into empty space in all directions and Fenton was sure he heard the rustle of wings in the high-up rafters.

"Hello Frank! Hello Joe! How did it go?"

"Hello Master," the boys said as one, "The prisoner suspected nothing when I asked to drive," added Joe in a strange, wooden voice, "He was easily taken."

"Excellent!" Lightning flashed, lighting the room briefly but enough for Fenton to see the dark eyes and hair and the slightly Slavic features of the stranger. "Would Joe like a reward?"

"Oh yes, thank you Master!" said Joe, stepping forward.

Lightning flashed in a strobic display. Fenton's eyes widened as he watched the stranger gather Joe into his arms, bend him backward and kiss him deeply.

Growling into his gag, Fenton lunged forward but was stopped by Frank who wrapped an arm across his windpipe.

As the room lapsed into darkness once again, Mesmero enjoyed plundering Joe's mouth, waiting till the resulting booms of thunder had passed before he bothered to stop and speak again.

"Poor daddy, you must be so upset at seeing your sweet little son behaving this way. I'm so happy to be the one to break it to you that Joe is gay. Frank was straight, although with a little time and training, he'll come around to my way of thinking. Isn't that right, Frank?"

"Yes Master, thank you for being so patient with me," Frank said.

"Good. Well, why don't you bring the prisoner into the office where we can have a proper chat."

Fenton was marched though the pitch black to a thin strip of light which turned out to be light coming from underneath a door. Through the door was a large room equipped with sleeping bag and a large air mattress, hot plate, and a kerosene lantern, which was one of the sources of light in the room. The other was a small fire in a large fireplace. On one side of the fireplace was an old shoe-rack on which was piled some clothes, some foodstuffs, a few pots and pans and an old kettle. An opulent, ancient desk left over from a bygone age sat in the opposite corner of the mattress. The desk came with an equally opulent yet equally ancient desk chair and a lesser ornate straight backed chair. The two windows had been painted black.

Fenton was sat in the straight backed chair and re-taped to it. This time Fenton was prepared and slowly inhaled, slowly flexing his chest just enough, hoping nobody would notice.

Nobody did. Tape was rewrapped around his chest and waist. His wrists were taped behind to the chair and his back. His legs were taped to the bottom of the chair and his ankles were taped together, attached to the front legs and then attached securely to his wrists by passing the tape under and through the chair.

When Mesmero felt he was sufficiently secure, he reached over and ripped off Fenton's gag.

"Who-what have yoo-OOOOHHHHWWWAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!"

"Scintillating," quipped Mesmero. He then began to inspect Fenton, tilting his head this way and that, checking his eye color, and opening his mouth checking his teeth, the way one does when one is buying a horse.

"Hmmm, not bad, not bad. A bit past your prime, but quite handsome for your age. Blue eyes. Salt and pepper hair. Surprisingly muscular build. Tsk, tsk, a gold tooth in the back. Not been flossing? Ahh well, can't be helped I suppose. On the whole, not bad at all."

"What d'you care what I look like?" Fenton asked angrily, struggling against Mesmero's probing fingers.

"Oh, well you'd be surprised what people can buy-and sell-over the Internet these days," Mesmero said, offhandedly. Fenton's eyes widened in fear.

"Ahh, don't worry about it. You're a little too old (no offense) for my contacts. Like me, they all like 'em young. Isn't that right, Joe?"

"Yes, Master," Joe said, lifting his head as if in response.

Mesmero needed no prompting. He and Joe again, lip-locked again with such intensity that Joe went weak in the knees. Mesmero held him up by his ass, caressing it as he did so.

"Stop that!" Fenton shouted, "What have you done to them?!"

Mesmero sat down behind the desk and propped his feet up. He positioned Frank and Joe on either side of him and said, "Tune out, turn off." Instantly Frank and Joe stood to military attention, closed their eyes and went to sleep.

"I've hypnotized them," Mesmero said bluntly, "It's what I do. And now, they belong to me!"

His toothsome smile was terrible to behold.

"NO!" Fenton struggled wildly in his bonds with no result. "You monster! And Joe! Why did you have to turn him gay?"

"For your information," Mesmero said tightly, "Joe was always gay. I expect he's been pretending to be hetero all this time, even to the extent of getting a girlfriend, for YOUR benefit, because of just such a reaction. And because of that reaction, it's going to be my pleasure to change Frank's orientation, slowly but surely from breeder to addictive cocksucker!"

Fenton's face went red. "I'LL KILL YOU!!!" He writhed and struggled and made the chair rock and jump in his attempts to break free. But his boys had done well and he could not.

Mesmero watched his attempts with great amusement. At last Fenton stopped, sweat dripping everywhere, completely defeated.

"On the contrary," Mesmero said, "It is I who will kill you!"

Fenton lifted his head wearily and looked at Mesmero with defeat in his eyes. "But why? Why me? Why have you kidnapped me and turned my boys into these - these automatons!?"

"Think about it," Mesmero said, "Think about where you were going."

"We were going to investigate...the bank! You blew up those banks! You murdered those people!"

"No shit, Sheer Luck! Oh, and don't forget about liberating every lovely dollar beforehand as well! I mean, hypnotizing fun and all, but honestly, a fella's gotta have a way to pay the bills as well, you know?"

"You could use your talent to make money honestly! People do it all the..."

"Time!?" Mesmero whirled on him furiously, "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Let me guess! Open up a little office? Punch a clock from 9-5, listening to fat old biddies delude themselves about being a celebrity in a former life!? Trade my hours for dollars and waste my time and life like a common worthless SLAVE, like you, when instead I can be MASTER of all I survey, controlling the fates, holding men's life and death in my very hand!? Even as I hold YOUR life in my hand! I don't think so!"

Through this interchange, Fenton had been slowly inhaling and exhaling, gradually increasing the slack on the tape. Giving a mighty heave, he at last felt something give. Unfortunately, it was the chair. Fenton found himself able to stand, although with difficulty as he was still attached to the different separated parts of the chair. Plus his ankles were still attached to his wrists.

Mesmero rushed at him with a cry of fury. Fenton pivoted at just the right time, smacking Mesmero in the head with the back of the chair. While he was still stunned Fenton followed up by giving him a resounding headbutt. Mesmero was knocked down, unconscious.

Fenton hopped over to the shoe-rack and furiously began slicing away at his wrists on one of the corners.

But Mesmero was quick to recover. All too soon, he opened his eyes, raised his head, shook it to clear the cobwebs. Fenton rubbed at the sharp corner a little harder, faster. He was only halfway through.

"Frank and Joe! Tune in!" Mesmero croaked. Frank and Joe opened their eyes. Mesmero pointed at their father. "Incapacitate!"

Fenton rubbed a bit more and pulled with all his might. The tape holding his wrists snapped. Even as Frank and Joe started toward him, Fenton was ripping himself free. He shed himself of most of the chair parts just as Frank swung a fist. Fenton blocked.

In the fight that followed, Fenton held up for a pretty long time. But in the end, it was two against one. Joe picked up one of the broken slats of the chair, and, as Fenton was busy sparring with Frank, he snuck up behind him and decked his dad at the base of the skull. Fenton fell forward, senseless.

* * *

At first there were only sensations.

Cold. Dark. Wet. Pain.

Then he was aware of something hitting his face, like tiny freezing bullets pinging him with pain. He realized it was rain.

It was dark. He realized his eyes were closed. He opened them. He wished he hadn't.

The mad mesmerist's smile loomed white and wide in the dark. At first it seemed suspended and alone like Alice's Cheshire cat.

His head was throbbing. His wrists hurt and his arms felt stretched. He looked over and saw that they were stretched. Mesmero had found some chains in the warehouse and had used them to tie him, spread eagled and standing between two posts overlooking the sea. The rough, wooden posts had iron loops attached to them, normally used to moor ships. Mesmero had run the chains through these loops and attached him that way. His back was against the rough planks that were there to prevent someone from pitching over the side of the wharf into the dark waters below. More chains and duct tape had been criss-crossed over his chest in an X-style to tie him to these planks. His tape gag had been re-attached with a vengeance. It was wrapped at least six times around his head.

Like the Cheshire cat, Mesmero's face grew out of his smile and then his dark body out of his face. He leaned in close to Fenton's ear to compete with the storm.

"Well, I've got something really special planned for you! A few meters away there is a forklift with its blades raised and aimed so that one of them will spike you right in the heart. As we speak, your son Frank is ready to pull the lever to start the forklift moving its way slowly toward you. A stick will be lodged against the gas pedal to keep it moving. After it gores you, the forklift will continue on through the guardrail, carrying your body and it to the bottom of the briny deep. Donch'a just love it!? Could ya die?"

Laughing hysterically at his own bad joke, Mesmero sauntered off into the dark.

"OK Frank! Let 'er rip!"

Fenton heard the roar of machinery come to life.

Then he saw the phantom figures of Mesmero reappear with Joe and Frank on either side. He held each of them around their waists. The sight made Fenton's blood boil. He wanted to rip Mesmero's face off. But he could barely move.

"So long Famous Fenton Hardy! Enjoy your free undersea voyage! Bon voyage! Don't forget to die!!! BWA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAA!!!!" They vanished.

And out of the dark came the monster. Torturously slow, the right blade was raised and aimed straight for his heart. Fenton tugged his wrists. The chains held fast. He tried sliding his body over. No go apart from a few centimeters.

The blade grew closer and closer. Only one meter to go. A cold as it was, beads of sweat popped out on Fenton's forehead.

One foot. Thirty centimeters away from death. Fenton's eyes grew wide as they fixated on the tip of the blade coming closer and closer. Fifteen centimeters. Ten.

As the end became inevitable, Fenton straightened at closed his eyes. Eight centimeters.

Seven... Six... Five... Four... Three... Two... One....

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This story is copyright © 23 September 2004 by hypnojon32. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fan fiction. The Hardy boys and their friends were created by Franklin W Dixon. No copyright infringement is intended.
This story contains male/male sex, s/m role-play, and hypnofetishism.
Duplication of this story is allowed only for non-profit purposes. Any duplication of this file must include these copyright messages intact.

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