The Voodoo That You Do: Part 3 (hypno)

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Jim was terrified, and there was nothing in the room that could reassure him. Frank was still comatose on one of the beds, but there was no little old witch chanting, no slimy drug lord ordering them around.

Jim thought there was nothing much they could do at a distance, rather than pin him here against the wall until the mother tired, or the cleaners unlocked the door and discovered them.

He was wrong.

From where he stood, he could see the full length of Frank's battered and naked body. He had left it on top of the sheets so the unguents and wet towels could do their job. Now Frank's hand was moving toward his groin, almost as if it had a life of its own.

His cock was once again inflating, although he still remained unconscious. Jim knew that the invisible force must also be surrounding his partner. After an evening spent with his cock rigid while Jim beat into him, it was probably Demain's joke to now let Frank cum. Jim didn't feel much like laughing, as Frank's hand started slowly stroking his own cock, beginning the usual process of masturbation.

Jim tried closing his eyes, but the spell kept his eyes open and focussed on the action, except for the occasional blink. Jim watched as Frank's strokes grew longer and harder, and a moan escaped his lips. Jim looked up, but Frank was still out cold. It was just his body moving, jerking like a puppet.

Then he stopped.

Jim wondered what was next, and then felt himself moving toward the bed. He suddenly had an idea of what Demain meant, and as he knelt on the floor, he was sure. His arm reached out by itself, and Jim laid his hand on Frank's massive dick. Jim had never touched any meat but his own, and he was surprised by how solid and warm Frank's was. His hand took up the same rhythm of stroking that Frank had used, and soon Frank was moaning and his hips moving in time.

Jim tried to stop, but it was useless. Even if the effort of punishing Frank had not exhausted him already, he knew how impossible it was to break the spell. Even at this distance, the power of the witch seemed as strong as before. He just resigned himself to jerking off his partner, and figured it was probably the least he could do, considering what he had done to him before.

But Demain wasn't finished with him. His body rose up and straddled itself across Frank's body, knees on either side of his legs. Jim was keeping up the stroking, but now he was lowering his head. Exhausted as he was, as futile as he knew it to be, he struggled with all his might to prevent what was going to happen next.

His tongue was drawn out, and for the first time he tasted the musky head of another man.

In his time, Jim had had a girl or two go down on his own cock, so he knew in principle what to do, but he had never imagined, even in his wildest fantasies, of actually doing it. Now here he was, on a remote island, in a cheap hotel room, using his mouth to pleasure his partner's cock. Jim tried to block out what was happening by reciting the agency manual to himself in his head, but his body continued to suck on Frank's dick.

Frank was bucking, either with his own pleasure, or because of the invisible strings, Jim wasn't sure. He was more interested in trying to not feel what his hands were feeling, not taste what his mouth was tasting, and not see as much of another man's groin that he was seeing.

The pumping and sucking seemed to go on and on, and Jim lost track of the time. He seemed to have had the rod in his mouth forever, and, with his body on autopilot, he almost drifted off to sleep. Almost.

His mouth was jerked off Frank's cock, leaving it covered with a skin of saliva, just before Frank exploded. Jim was amazed at the amount of cum issuing from his partner's slit. It seemed as if it weren't going to stop, and it formed a large pool on Frank's chest. Jim just sat there, watching the cock pulse and throb, and finally deflate. Frank actually had a faint smile on his face, and Jim realised that even in his unconscious state, he had received pleasure from the experience.

The spell was gone as quickly as it came. Jim felt the invisible hands leaving him, and he quickly jumped off the bed in case Frank woke up. He just stood there for a minute, as his mind tried its best to cope with even more unusual events. Deciding that there was nothing more he could do, he went into the bathroom and brought back a towel to clean the cum off Frank's chest. At least he wouldn't know what had happened, Jim thought. It was going to be hard enough with Frank remembering that Jim had caused him such physical pain. The knowledge that Jim had given him a blowjob would probably mean the end of them ever working together again.

Jim didn't bother taking off his shirt or pants, and just collapsed on the second bed. His mind finally gave up any attempt at figuring things out, and just allowed him the luxury of a deep and dreamless sleep. Maybe tomorrow he would wake up, and it would all be just a dream.

It didn't go away with the morning. Jim woke with a headache made up of a hangover and exhaustion. According to the clock it was almost ten, and he looked over to where Frank still lay on the bed.

At first, Jim couldn't place what was wrong, but then he noticed that most of the discolourment of the night before was gone. Frank should have been one big purple bruise from his shoulders to his toes, but instead it was the same pinkish white it had been yesterday before anything had happened.

Maybe it was just a dream, Jim thought. But the pile of tattered clothes, the cum soaked towel and the absence of most of their armaments assured him that it was not. All Jim could do was put it down to the same magic that had held them captive. Either he had been hypnotised into thinking he had punched Frank, or the magic had healed him overnight. Either way was too much for Jim to think of without at least a cup of coffee.

He called room service and ordered breakfast for the two of them. Then he set to work encoding a message for his controller, and gave the telegram to the boy when he brought them their meal.

Jim leaned over to shake Frank awake, but Frank jumped up reflexively and grabbed at Jim's throat. When his other hand went for his holster, he realised he was naked, and then the memories all came flooding back. Jim could see the anger flood into Frank's eyes as he remembered the torture that he had suffered under his partner's hands.

But then he also became aware that he didn't hurt as much as he should, and as he looked over his body for the bruises he knew should be there, he released his grip on Jim's throat.

"Yeah, amazing, isn't it? When I brought you in last night, you were a mess all over. Today, you're as good as new."

Frank wasn't ready yet to talk, and stormed off into the bathroom, gathering up some clean clothes as he went. Everything he had been wearing the day before went into a pile in the corner, and he emerged looking a little more sedate and less likely to punch Jim in the face.

"Exactly what happened to us?"

"I don't know," Jim replied. "I think we should sit down and debrief each other. See if our stories match up. If we were hypnotised, there might be some discrepancies we can pick up."

Frank grunted his agreement, but he was professional enough to know it was the right procedure. He sat down beside the breakfast trolley, and started eating.

"Do you want to go first?" Jim would have preferred Frank to go first, believing that Frank would be too influenced by Jim's own version, but he had to make the offer. Frank looked steadily at him for a minute, and then started in on what he remembered.

His story was detailed but concise. He remembered clearly the underground trek, entering the tunnel, being ambushed and entering the long dining room.

He clearly related how Enrico was killed, although he suggested that it must have been a natural heart attack brought on by fear. He described the room exactly as Jim remembered it.

When he came to the next part, he turned very cold and remote. He described how he was stripped and searched by Jim, and how Demain had made him apologise and beg for forgiveness. He then told how Jim had started pounding away at him, and then how the mother and Demain had left the room. He left out all the homosexual details, and Jim didn't press to see whether he couldn't remember, or just didn't want to.

Jim in his turn told what he remembered, and it matched in all the important details. There was no doubt that something had definitely happened, but as to exactly what, they still weren't sure. Frank got up and paced the room, his anger and frustration evident in every step he took. He was like a caged lion, who desired nothing than to get out and rip Demain apart from head to toe.

Jim tried to think things through.

"Okay, they must have used something on us. Whether it was magic or drugs or some sort of microwave device, there must be something we can do about it. Right?" Frank reluctantly agreed. He was more used to fighting with his fists than with logic.

"Right."

"So, we have to find out what. If it's drugs or magic or some local hallucinogen, then we can find out what by asking around. If it was more technological than that, then we can rig up some sort of jamming device." Jim felt more and more in control of the situation, and Frank grudgingly accepted his reasoning.

"Okay. You go out and interview whatever chemist or drug dealer or whatever you can find. See if they have any zombie drug, or know what it is. They may also have an antidote. I'll check in on holy men or witches or whatever they are in this place. They may not be real, but they may know what was done to us. And how. All right?" Jim was feeling more confident than he knew the situation warranted, but his sanity was precarious and he wasn't going to let any doubts tip it over the edge.

Frank agreed and set off to find the local drug source. Jim freshened up and emerged on the street just after twelve. He had a list of temples from the hotel phone book and a map of the city for tourists. He set off for the nearest place, hoping that he wasn't fighting any power of evil, just some plain old James Bond mind control machine.

Frank had little luck with the local population. He wasn't big on people skills to start with, and his anger spilled over until most people shrank from him before he even got close to asking them a question. One street corner herb pedlar was a bit more informative, and stated that he knew of drugs that would do what Frank described, but when he pushed further, he found that the old man was just going to sell him a paper bag of dried mushrooms.

Frank had no doubt that some fungi produced strange visions, but he also knew that there was no way he, Jim and Enrico could have been fed the drug without them knowing. There only meal had been on the plane, and that was just a snack. No, it couldn't have been that sort of attack.

Jim had no better luck. He finally found a local priest who was at least willing to listen, but he crossed himself so many times while Jim was talking, he was afraid the old man was crazy.

"You have touched the bad one. Very bad."

"Yes, he is very bad. But what I want to know is what did he do to us."

"Old woman. Brujo, evil. She weave you. Take your body."

"Yes, but how? How can I stop it?"

"Cannot stop. Cannot stop. Powerful evil there." Jim felt he was getting nowhere. He got up to leave and the old priest grabbed his arm.

"We pray for you."

"Thanks. That will be a big help."

"Tonight. At mass. We will pray for your soul."

Jim felt uncomfortable with what the old man was saying, but also appreciated that he was saying it. None of the other priests or priestesses would talk to him at all. They took one look at him, and literally scampered away. He put it down to a fear of authority, but then he noticed that most of the population was avoiding him as well.

If he had been raised in a different place, he would have noticed that as he walked past, people were making the sign against the evil eye, and spitting on his shadow to protect them from the devil.

But Jim had grown up in general ignorance of anything remotely spiritual, and had no idea how out of his depth he was. He considered calling the mission off. He also considered sending a message to the agency telling them everything that had happened - everything.

But he decided against both options. He sent a follow up message saying that they had been delayed by circumstances and their contact had died. However, they would attempt to complete their mission, and contact base when they were successful. He knew that if no one had heard from them inside a week, a routine check would be made on their safety and whereabouts. Other than that, they were on their own.

The two men met back at their hotel room, and Jim halved his share of hidden paraphernalia so Frank wouldn't be completely unarmed. They discussed their options, and finally agreed that their best course of action was to accept the invitation to dinner. Once inside, they could make a break for it before Demain activated whatever it was he was using, and then wait in ambush to get their quarry.

It wasn't much of a plan, but it was all they had.

At four o'clock a call from the lobby said there was a car out front to pick them up. The agents weren't expecting anything so early, let alone a car to carry them the two blocks or so to Demain's hidden mansion. But they had no choice.

They double checked their equipment and went down to meet their driver. They were both prepared for some kind of attack, or sleeping gas injected into the back of the long car, but nothing happened. They drove slowly down a strangely deserted main street that had earlier been packed with peasants hawking their wares.

They arrived again at the front door that Jim had carried Frank through, but this time they were forewarned, and, hopefully, forearmed. They stepped from the bright afternoon sun and into the lair of Demain. Both of them shivered at the thought.

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