The Voodoo That You Do: Part 2 (hypno)
by magister
The scene seemed frozen, like some macabre still life. The two agents were frozen by what could only be magic at one end of the room, while their captor, Demain, and his mother, a witch woman, were poised and gloating at the head of the long table.
Demain finally stood, and it was now obvious that he was tall and well-built. He was no effete criminal who let others do his dirty work for him. He had been in his share of fights, and his body showed that he still worked out kept himself ready to engage in his own battles. But he seldom needed to physically become involved in any situation, as his security force was one of the best in the world. However, he did occasionally like the personal touch.
He walked the length of the room casually, and inspected his two 'guests'. The first one was dark haired and solid, and had his hand raised as if he were about to throw a spear. In his hand was a slender needle that Demain assumed was poisoned somehow. The look in the man's eyes was belligerent and angry. Demain had seen his kind before. Street smart, but all attitude and little intelligence. He had a chip on his shoulder, and wasn't shy in letting people know it.
His kind made good agents when you wanted dirty work done, but they were unreliable and tended to act without thinking of the consequences. That's where the other one came in.
Demain walked over to where Jim stood frozen, and although he could see fear in the agent's eyes, there was no defeat and no backing down. Demain assumed this one was the brains of the outfit, and he had an inner strength of will that would be interesting to test. Demain extended his hand, and ran it down the smooth cheek and square chin of the good looking man. Jim couldn't even flinch, but inside every muscle tensed at the touch of this man.
Demain whirled around, and held out his arm toward the old woman.
"Mother, I think we should declaw our guest here, before he does himself and injury." The witch cackled and shuffled down the room to stand near her son. "If you would be so kind ...?"
She held in her hands the two dolls that were obviously the source of whatever power held the two men frozen. She spat on each of the dolls, and started rubbing her spittle into them with her thumbs, while her eyes rolled up in her head and she started a low chant.
Jim felt the invisible hands around him changing, moving. They were not releasing him, but seemed to be controlling him, like a puppet.
"I think you should search your friend, and relieve him of anything that might be the least bit harmful." Demain directed his comment at Jim, and Jim felt his body responding. Frank, in turn, seemed to be just as helpless against the commands issuing from the Montagne couple, and although he was no longer frozen, he was standing there relaxed and limp.
Jim started off by taking the needle from Frank's hands, but any thought of using it himself on Demain was pointless. He couldn't control his body at all. He still blinked, breathed, swallowed easily enough, and anybody looking on would see his movements as normal and uninhibited, but one look at his eyes would show that he was not in control.
Jim went over Frank's suit, finding other small devices that were hidden in the belt buckle, the jacket lining and even behind the tie.
"I think you need to be a bit more thorough than that. I don't want any doubt that your friend is weaponless. Surely your training included better search techniques than that?" Demain seemed to enjoy playing a cat and mouse game, seeming very polite and easy-going, while manipulating everything through his mother.
Jim felt his body get into the swing of things, and he knew he was about to do a text book body search on his partner. He started by removing the jacket, and tearing the lining out. He pulled at the shoulder pads, examined each button and each seam. Then he removed the shirt and tie, giving them just as thorough an examination.
Then he bent down to remove Frank's shoes, which revealed a few nasty surprises that even Jim hadn't expected. The socks came off, and were followed by the slacks and underpants. Frank was standing there, completely naked. He was indeed solid, with the dense muscles and heavy skeleton that made him look like a brick wall. He was also well hung, but in this situation, an erection was the furthest thing from his mind.
When Jim looked into his eyes, he could see all the anger and frustration directed at Demain. Jim had silently been testing the control of his body, by trying to influence his actions in small ways. He had attempted to check the left shoe first, and had met little resistance from the force controlling him. However, when he tried to stop doing something, or hold one of the small weapons too long, the invisible hands took over and he was once again a helpless puppet.
"Shouldn't we be doing a full body cavity search as well, my friend?" Demain had a malicious look in his eye, as Jim had no choice but to comply. He checked Frank's mouth, ears, nose, under his arms, the navel and finally felt around Frank's large balls and between his legs. Jim blushed slightly, never having been that close to the testicles of another man before, but Frank was using his indignation to fuel his anger toward Demain.
Whereas Jim was looking for cracks in his prison wall, Frank felt if he could get enough anger, enough will power, he could break free by force. Then Jim had Frank bend over against the table, and he pulled up his sleeves. Jim was reluctant to do this, and felt he should at least be wearing gloves, but the invisible force was urging him on. Jim inserted a finger into Frank's rectum, and felt around for strange objects. Never having felt inside an ass before (not even his own), Jim had no idea what lumps or bumps were natural, and what could have been a hidden weapon. Of course, during training they had been told about this as a possible way of hiding important objects, like microfilm or drugs, but the actual situation had never arisen on any of Jim's few missions.
Jim removed his finger, and was able to take the hanky from his own pocket and wipe it off. He felt extremely embarrassed for his partner, who was still naked and bent over. Demain walked over to the vulnerable agent, and drew his finger lightly down Frank's back and along the line of his buttocks. It was obvious that Demain enjoyed the sight of male flesh, and it started to occur to Jim what his complete helplessness could mean at the hands of a homosexual. Luckily, those sorts of thoughts were beyond anything Frank could imagine. He was not cosmopolitan enough to understand the possibility of a man being raped.
"Now, I think our man here is sorry." Demain pulled Frank up, and stood staring down at him. Although Frank was solid, he was not as tall as the long legged Demain. Even though Demain didn't look as broad or as heavily muscled, there was still a sense of immense strength about him that Jim could sense, even from where he stood.
"What is your name - your real name."
"Frank Dorsey." Frank had as little control over his voice as he did over the rest of his body. There wasn't even a sense of struggle. Demain asked a question, and Frank responded automatically. The old woman was droning on tirelessly, and Jim knew that while she was in her trance, neither Frank nor himself would be able to resist anything this man wanted.
"Well, Frank, I think you should apologise. You attempted to kill me while you were a guest in my house. Not very nice, I think."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I tried to kill you." Frank fumed as the words came from his lips, but his efforts at doing anything else were futile.
"I don't believe you. Do you believe him, mother? No, I didn't think so. Now, I want you to really apologise. Make me believe every word of it."
Frank couldn't help it. He spouted out words of apology, stumbling over himself to beg forgiveness. He dropped to his knees as he pleaded with Demain to pardon him for his rudeness. Although Jim knew that this wasn't Frank, it was the witch controlling him, still he felt shame for Frank, that he was begging like Enrico had done only a short while ago.
Demain himself enjoyed the sight of this well built Federal agent on the floor before him, pouring out a torrent of apology. He admired the skill his mother had at manipulating these weaker minds. Finally, though, the man was so pathetic that Demain had him stop. Frank was furious. He had never apologised to anyone in his life, let alone begged like that. He swore he'd make this Demain pay. Killing him was no longer in question, but Frank wanted to make him suffer - really suffer - first.
"I will accept your apology, as you did phrase it so well, and it seemed - sincere." Demain smirked at his own sarcastic joke. "But I still think you will need to be punished, in order to show me that you do really regret what you attempted."
Frank just stood there, glaring. Demain turned back toward Jim.
"I'm afraid we weren't properly introduced. Your name would be?"
"Jim. Jim Weston."
"Ah, Jim. Short for James, I assume? No matter. 'Jim', your friend here is very sorry for what he has done, but needs to be punished. I am sure you know how to inflict some pain without actually damaging him. Is that right?"
"Yes."
"Now, let's not have you being rude as well. I think it would only be polite to address your host as 'sir'."
"Yes, sir."
"That's better. Now, Jim, I want you to hurt Frank here. Make it painful, but don't do anything that would disfigure such a wonderful body."
"Yes, sir." Jim moved forward, but had no idea what his body was going to do until his fist shot out and landed straight on Frank's kidney. Frank seemed to be held up by the invisible force because he didn't keel over. He also made no move to protect himself. Jim got stuck into beating his partner, and was amazed at his own ruthlessness. Frank glared at him, as if forgetting that Jim was just as much a puppet as he was.
After ten minutes, Jim's fists were getting sore from beating against the solid muscle, and the control let him stop a moment to catch his breath. Demain had been looking calmly on, and he took advantage of this pause to step forward again.
"Now, Frank, if you really felt sorry, you would appreciate having your friend punish you." Demain reached down and started fondling Frank's soft cock. Frank must have been in pain from the beating, but he still had enough strength to glare his hatred. "I don't think you are enjoying this as much as you should. Mother?"
Within seconds, Frank's cock started to grow hard under Demain's stroking. Frank looked surprised for the first time since this whole evening began. Deep within his mind, the one thing he was certain of was his own identity as a man, and that meant he absolutely knew himself as straight. As his cock throbbed under the gentle stroking of this strange man, Frank felt a little bit of his mind start slipping, as the enormity of the control of the old witch hit him.
"Now, that's much better. At least we can all see you are enjoying being reprimanded for your mistake. Don't you feel better now?"
"No, sir." Although he was being forced to be polite, he could still be honest.
"You look like you're enjoying it, so I want you to truly enjoy it. Honestly, Frank, you should just relax and feel the joy of being truly repentant." Demain laughed, a deep throaty laugh that vibrated in his chest, and then he turned to Jim.
"I know he is your friend and partner, Jim, but that should mean you truly want to help him work out his punishment. You saw him apologise, and you can see how much he wants to please me by being punished. So I think you can put a little more effort into his lesson."
Jim had been trying to subtly control his hands, so blows landed just off centre, or just missed a nerve, and he thought he'd gotten away with it. Frank had been hurt, but not badly so. However, with Demain's new command, Jim knew that he could no longer minimise the effects of his blows. He removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie, as if this were a real situation where he was expected to beat a true 'bad guy'.
The next half hour was painful for both agents. Jim could see the pain in Frank's eyes, as he was forced to just stand there and take it, and of course the agency training meant that Jim knew all the ways to hurt a man without breaking the skin. Jim was also distracted by Frank's large erection. The two men had shared rooms before, but they were always discrete and never really looked at each other. Now, Jim had no choice but to stare at Frank's engorged dick as it wobbled with each blow to his body.
What shamed Jim even more was that at one point, the force made him walk over to the helpless Frank, and knee him solidly in his exposed balls. A blow like that would normally have dropped a man whimpering to the floor, but Frank was still held by the old lady's spell. An involuntary mewl came from between his lips, but the look on his eyes said he wanted to kill Jim at that moment. Jim wasn't sure whether the power was directing all his movements, or was just releasing some unconscious part of his own mind. He didn't think he could ever do that to another man - even an enemy agent.
Demain just politely applauded the action, and Jim went back to beating his partner. His knuckles were grazed and starting to bleed, so he resorted to twisting Frank's nipples, pulling on his bruised balls and sticking the ball of his thumb into sensitive pressure points under the arm and over the groin.
Finally Demain had had enough. He called a halt, and Jim stepped back, almost as exhausted as Frank. Frank looked relatively fine, but there were massive areas of bruising that were even now starting to turn from purple to brown. Jim winced in sympathy when he thought of how Frank would feel when he tried to move. Every major muscle in his body must hurt like hell.
Demain walked over to the beaten agent, and once again reached out to stroke the erect dick.
"Now, that wasn't too bad, was it. You should thank me for helping you learn better manners."
"Thank you, sir."
"And you should thank your friend Jim for being so kind and helping out with your well-deserved punishment."
"Thanks, Jim, for punishing me."
"No worries, Frank." Everything seemed so normal from the outside, and Jim didn't think anyone who was watching this whole scene would believe that the two men hadn't acted of their own accord.
"That's very good. I'm proud of both of you. Now, Frank, you can put your big rod away and get dressed. You, too, Jim." The agents retrieved their clothes - Jim his jacket, and Frank painfully stepped into all his discarded clothing. Jim winced every time Frank gasped, but there was nothing he could do to help his partner.
Once Frank had all his clothes on, it was hard to see that he'd been hurt at all. The suit was a mess, though, from the thorough search Jim had subjected it to. However, once he tried to walk, you could see the tenseness in his steps, and one look in his eyes and you could tell he was in serious pain. Overall, no mugging victim had ever looked worse.
"I think that is enough of a conversation for today. However, I would like to speak with you again. Please say you will join me tomorrow evening for a meal?"
"Yes, sir."
"Certainly, sir."
"Excellent. Now, you'd better be getting back to your hotel. One of my men will show you out. Until tomorrow, then, gentlemen."
They were royally dismissed. The old woman emerged from her trance, and the lack of her chanting made the room seem eerily silent. As she let go of the spell, Jim could feel control of his body returning. Frank could feel it too, and with his huge reserve of anger, he tried to reach out to attack his tormentor. However, the beating his body had taken left him in no state to do anything, and he would have collapsed if Jim hadn't grabbed his arm.
Frank winced at the touch on his bruised biceps, but he had no strength to fight. They had regained control, but they were in no condition to use it. Demain and his mother walked away, he with grace and her with a shuffle, and a servant appeared to show them to the door.
Carrying most of Frank's weight, Jim got them out the door and down the long corridor that led to the street. Once outside, he could see that they were not that far from their hotel. Enrico must have led them around so that they would have to depend on him to retrace their steps.
It was too late to worry about Enrico know, though. He was dead and gone, and Frank was in pretty bad shape. Jim stopped a passing barrow, and, knocking the produce off onto the ground, dumped the limp Frank onto the dirty cart. A few American dollars quieted the owner, and Jim then pushed Frank down the narrow street.
A bellboy saw them as they pulled up in front of the hotel steps and ran to help. Jim was amazed that he didn't ask any questions, but assumed this was not an unusual occurrence in a third world country. They manhandled Frank up to their room, where Jim sent the boy to get some ice and whatever passed for a first aid kit.
Jim laid Frank down on the bed, and began loosening his tie. Frank was slightly delirious with the pain, but roused enough to try and fight off Jim's ministrations. Jim tried to calm him, but Frank was resisting. Then, just as quickly, the fight left him, and Frank slumped back onto the bed.
Jim was glad that Frank had slipped into unconsciousness. He quickly stripped his partner down, and went into the bathroom to wet a towel and bring it back. The bellboy returned with a bucket of ice, a small first aid box and a bottle of scotch. He took one look at the naked bruised man on the bed, then he crossed himself and fled. Jim set to and tried to ease as much of the swelling as possible.
He was amazed at how much damage he had done, and was more amazed at how well Frank had endured it.
After icing him down and applying some salve he found in the first aid kit, Jim sat back and poured himself a drink. His mind was still trying to comprehend what had happened to them. He couldn't make any plans, couldn't even imagine what to do next until he came to some sort of terms with what had just happened.
He was onto his second glass of scotch when the phone rang. Jim was foggy enough that he didn't wonder who could possibly be phoning them, and stumbled to the table. The voice at the other end was immediately recognisable as Demain's.
"Ah, Jim, so sorry to disturb you. But after you had left, I realised that I had left a little business unfinished."
"You bastard. You fuckin ..." Jim was losing control as the alcohol merged with the impossibility of the situation at Demain's home, and he was becoming less than professional.
"That's no way to talk. I'm afraid that will make the next little while a bit harder on you than it has to be. Until tomorrow evening, then, Jim." The line went dead before Jim could continue his list of epithets. He slammed down the phone, and was just angry enough to think clearly for a minute.
What could Demain do to them here, in a public hotel room? And without that hag of a mother?
Jim went to the door, feeling more sober by the minute, and made sure it was locked. As he turned back toward the room, he felt those same invisible hands all over his body, and he almost screamed in fear. It was happening again, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.