Jailhouse Ruck (hypno)

Chapter 1

Success had come quickly for Devon Stiles. Last week he won the teen heartthrob of the year award at the People's Choice and he was on the cover of every teen magazine. He had three movies out the past year (only the third was a starring role but the studio saw what he had and were cashing in on it).

Still, Devon was unhappy. He was twenty-three years old (though most of the teen mags reported 21) and he looked about sixteen. All the roles he was offered tended to be the same - the same as the first film he made when he was nominated for an Academy Award. He didn't win the award - it didn't mean much to him anyway at that point, but what worried him now was that he wouldn't be able to make the leap from teen star to adult actor. He desperately wanted this. But no-one else wanted it for him.

And so he drank. Not much at first, but lately he was drinking all the time.

It certainly didn't fit his image. He didn't smoke, he always said no to 'drugs', he ate mostly vegetarian foods and exercised regularly. He was the young man that every mother wanted for their daughter.

His drinking had been mostly in private. Lately, though, he had been drinking a lot in the presence of the few friends he had, and drinking a whole lot more when he was alone.

If this weren't bad enough, in and of itself, he was a 'mean' drunk. Not so much of a problem when he was by himself, but when he was with others, it was much more so. He started with cynical and mean words to his friends, and as the evening wore on and he lost most of his consciousness, he inevitably would try to start a fight before he collapsed in a drunken stupor.

No-one said very much. After all, no-one wanted to irritate him, riding as they were on his coattails. And so they put up with it.

The first time he slugged someone at a party, the charges were dropped. The second time, he made it to court. The tabloids, always eager to find something on the stars during their fifteen minutes of fame, played it up royally. The sentence was community service and a treatment centre.

The third time, Devon was not so lucky. The man he slugged hit his head and serious damage had been done. The court was not at all sympathetic and a jail sentence was given. The studio tried to get the sentence lifted since they were in pre-production and would lose a lot of money if their boy were imprisoned. They promised the judge many things, but finally, the judge said that the boy needed help, needed to dry out and needed to be punished for what he did, so he would have to spend the next year in jail (though the sentence was for three).

The media had a field day with their picture postcard for clean living. The studio sued him to recover some of their pre-production costs and Devon turned overnight from media darling to media whipping boy.

Because of his notoriety, the judge agreed to sequester Devon in a place not to be announced to the media. And he wouldn't be put someplace with hardened criminals... but he would have to serve his year. He had three weeks of freedom before he would have to give himself up for the year.

Penniless and dejected, Devon drank himself through the next three weeks mostly alone. Even his closest friends had deserted him when the money went. He drank and cried himself to sleep worrying about his claustrophobia and the size of his prison cell. He was frightened and alone.

Devon's agent, Carol Bruce, had done her best to stifle the rumours, and now that he had been convicted, she let out possible reasons for his turning to drink, like the untimely death of his mother. Actually, Devon hadn't seen his mother or father for years and had been a runaway at 16, but, of course, she didn't want the press to know that.

Carol tried anything to turn around the bad publicity and make the whole think work for Devon so that when he got out after year he would till be a hot item. Obviously Devon would not be hired again soon by the company of his latest film, but there was still a large following, even if the girls were young and switched allegiances often.

With Carol's encouragement Devon did a final press interview where he came across like a lost lamb, sorry for what he did, promising never to do it again and glad for the chance to rehabilitate and get his act together. He saw the jail sentence, he said, as" society's way of giving someone a second chance." It was all bullshit. Devon didn't buy any of it. He was just a scared, spoiled kid who wanted desperately to be treated as an adult.

Carol continued to be optimistic even in face of Devon's depression and as the fateful day for incarceration approached, she had made sure that her boy wouldn't be hurt by the prison experience. Though he would be sharing a cell, he would not be with hardened, long-time criminals, nor would he have much to do with the prison populace. He would not have to do activities with the others if he didn't want to and he would be made to work in a job that he could do as privately as possible. No-one was to be told the whereabouts of Devon, although Carol was sure it wouldn't be too long before some inmate sold the information. At least there would be no pictures of him going into the jail. Coming out... well, that would be another story.

Carol had done everything possible to assure the safety of the boy. All she could do now was wait.

Warden Collins was well aware that his new prisoner brought the potential of notoriety for his prison and he didn't want it. He liked the low-keyed, uncomplicated way of life that went on in this facility. He understood the possible problems that could be created and he would do his best to see that everything went smoothly.

He held a meeting with the heads of the different units and they talked about what would be best. It was finally decided that Danny Bassett would be just the person to assign Devon Stiles to share a room with. Bassett was a loner himself, twice married, twice divorced, no kids. He had been in jail a few times for non-violent crimes, embezzlement and pimping, and this last time for breaking into a series of computer banking machines. He had gained access to user codes and had stolen almost a million dollars in only three months before he was caught. Sentenced to two years, he still had seven months to go.

Bassett was not a good-looking man - frightening might be a more appropriate word, but it was enough to make the others leave him alone. In fact, in the seventeen months of his sentence he had only had one other roommate and that lasted barely a week. That 'tenant' said that Bassett had frightened him continually, just be looking at him. Warden Collins tried to be understanding of the prisoners, though he could be very stern as well, and gave in to the new boy's demands. Bassett was once again alone.

Warden Collins called Bassett in a week before the new prisoner was to arrive. He explained the situation to him that this TV and movie star was going to be sharing the cell with him, that he didn't want any trouble and that he was to leave the kid alone. Bassett didn't say much - he never did, and finally, nodded his head in a brief quick "yes, I understand", and that was that.

Carol was the only one to accompany Devon that August 15th to the minimum security unit about 150 miles away from Devon's home. They didn't say much during the trip, but she tried to be bright and positive with him, and told him that he would have access to a phone and he was to call regularly since she couldn't easily call him. Seeing him walk through the prison doors, she shuddered, both for the boy whom she had groomed and felt some affection for (even though he could drive her crazy), and for the bankbook that would be a lot smaller now that her one "big" star was fading for a year. She breathed deeply as the door closed behind him, and returned to home.

The whole process of entering the prison was easier than Devon had expected. His idea of prison, born from seeing so many prison movies, was misinformed. Yes, they put his belongings in a bag. Yes, they checked him physically for disease and hidden weapons. Yes, he showered and changed into prison garb - t-shirt and chinos. Yes, he was given a number.. They did not, however, treat him roughly or cruelly, nor did the other prisoners jeer at him as he walked down corridors of cells. For the most part he was ignored.

The first fearful moment he had was on seeing the man with whom he had to share his cell. When Devon entered the cell, Danny Bassett looked up at him for just a split second and held his eyes. No more. Then he lowered his eyes and ignored Devon. But in that second Devon felt a cold shudder go up his spine and he was frightened. Was it the man's looks? For indeed, he was a frightening man- cold blue sunken eyes, high cheek bones, broken nose, furry eyebrows, long, thin dirty blond hair. Was it the fact that he was the intruder, crashing in on this man's silent cell?

Whatever the reason, Devon was glad he didn't look at him longer and was relieved when he looked away. The guard didn't introduce them; he simply, told Devon a few rules, information about lights out and meals, and then left.

The real fear began with the sound of the metal door closing behind the guard. It was a deep-rooted fear, a psychologically debilitating fear - the fear that only claustrophobics can know. And it cut deep.

He tried to ignore it at first. He spent the first few minutes putting the sparse number of items he had away. He made up the bed. He moved things around on the table-desk next to the bed. He sat on the bed. He looked around, carefully avoiding looking at his roommate who was reading a magazine, laying back on his bed.

He looked at the four cement walls, the steel door with bars in the window at the top, the toilet in the corner of the room, the sink, the two beds, the two desks, the two chairs. His roommate, whatever his name was, had a calendar and a couple of pictures on the wall. The calendar had a picture of a cocker spaniel pup on it. The first picture was a snapshot of two older people (maybe his parents) and the second, a ripped out picture from one of the popular sex magazines he supposed. She was in the classic Marilyn Monroe pose from "Seven Year Itch" except one breast was hanging out of the dress and the wind from the vent below had blown up to expose her fully. That was it!

Now Devon was done. Ten minutes into his sentence and he had seen everything there was to see, done everything there was to do - and he sat there and let the claustrophobia overwhelm him. First he trembled, then he shook and finally he started to cry. It was then, and only then, that Danny Bassett looked up from his reading, a book on the use of hypnosis in sports, and watched the young man fall apart.

Danny experienced two emotions at that moment - one of sympathy (the son he never had?) and the other of opportunity (this "movie star" was a gift from the gods if he played his cards in the right way - and the boy obviously needed him.) What to do?

Chapter Two

Devon's claustrophobia grew worse over the next three days. He didn't seem to sleep at all and spent much of the night shaking. Every time Danny woke, he could hear the whimpers of the young man and sometimes feel the shaking.

During the day he was better but not much. Robbed of his sleep and unaccustomed to prison food, he seemed to be losing weight overnight. No-one seemed to pay any attention to him in the prison mess hall, and Danny was yet to say two words to him. The first day Devon tried to ignore him as well, and only once did he address him.

Danny had lit a cigarette for the third time that day and Devon had finally commented something to the effect that he thought they weren't supposed to smoke in the cells. Danny said nothing.

"Would you mind not smoking, please. The smoke bothers me."

Danny continued to smoke and acted as though Devon had said nothing. Finally Devon gave up. It was just another irritation on a long list of irritations.

At recreation the second night a couple of thug types forced Devon against the wall. He was a 'cute' kid and they let him know he was. Danny walked over to the wall where they had pinned Devon and again, didn't say a word - just looked at the two - and they shrugged and left Devon alone. Devon tried to say thanks but Danny just walked away.

That night the shaking and the whimpering worsened. The morning of the third day Devon tried to explain to a guard that he just wasn't sleeping and that he had a form of claustrophobia, but they just laughed at him and walked away. Devon went back and sat on his bed, holding back the tears.

"I can help you."

Devon looked confused. It was the first time he had heard Danny's voice. "What?"

"I said, I can help you. If you want." Danny was still not looking at Devon.

"How? How can you help?"

"I've been reading this friggin' book - it's about how to help jocks get a better hard on for a game." He smiled. "No, it show how to get people to fuckin' relax - and you fuckin' need to relax and your gonna drive us all fuckin' crazy."

"What does it say to do?"

"Just fuckin' talk to ya. That's all. Just fuckin' talk."

"You mean like hypnosis or something."

"Just leave it to me, kid. I promise ya you'll have a fuckin' good night's sleep. And so will I!"

Devon didn't really want to be hypnotized or whatever Bassett was going to do to him, but then he didn't have many options... and he was so damned tired. So, at lights out, Danny had him lie on his bed and slowly put him through one of the exercises he had about memorized from the book - a standard hypnotic induction.

Devon was a good subject, partly because he was afraid of Danny, partly because he was so tired and perhaps, because he needed an escape - alcohol not available to him.

Danny didn't try any tricks - he used almost word for word the relaxation induction from the book and told Devon he would have a good night's sleep, waking refreshed and feeling good. And Devon did!

The next day, Devon was very grateful to Danny. He tried to speak at length about his gratefulness, but Danny was once again non-communicative. But Devon had felt better than he had since entering the prison.

That night Devon had to ask Danny to do it again. Danny hadn't offered to do it again, but the claustrophobia set in again after lights out. Devon waited about a half hour, but when his chest started to tighten and he knew he wouldn't sleep, he asked for help.

Danny didn't say anything, but Devon could hear him get up and he came over and sat on the floor next to Devon's bed. Slowly, from memory, Danny brought him under for another night's peace and rest.

This pattern continued for a couple of weeks. Devon continued to be dependent on Danny for putting him under each night. For the first week and half, Danny didn't change the pattern of his approach at all, almost repeating each evening the exact same words. But Danny had been thinking a lot over the last eleven days and had begun to work out a plan in his mind.

The induction changed slowly and subtly. Danny began to see if he could touch parts of Devon's body without waking him. The changes and the trials took weeks but they had nothing but time to kill. Danny was in no hurry. Gradually he was touching Devon's breasts and cock, experimenting with getting a rise out of him. Danny wasn't gay but the circumstances were starting to turn him on more and more each night. He experimented with having Devon lose feeling in parts of his body. He started Devon imagining that he was being touched by other people - past girlfriends. He started inserting his finger in Devon's ass, lubricating it, preparing it. He experimented with the wooden toilet paper holder and inserted that. Finally in week four he inserted his own cock and exploded as only a man deprived of sex for so long could.

In all of this, Devon seemed to remember nothing, but was able to get through his days rested and calm. His dependence on Danny was growing, however, and it was being fostered by Danny who would tell the young man - "Without Danny you are nothing. Danny is your only friend. Danny is the only one who cares about you. You will do anything for Danny." Each day the dependence grew stronger and stronger and Devon's fear grew to healthy respect to admiration of the man who had once frightened him.

In the fifth week Devon had had a visitor (Carol, his agent) and she had said some things that apparently upset Devon - business matters, in particular the selling of one of his three properties - the one on the beach, that Devon loved. Without a source of income, though, something had to go and that was the one that could bring in the most money. Devon had come back to the cell pissed off and moody. For the first time since their initial day together Devon complained about the "godammed smoke" in the room, and why the hell couldn't Danny obey the rules and wait to smoke at recreation.

Danny ignored him, but that evening when Devon asked to be put under, Danny continued to ignore him. Devon was again unable to sleep and the claustrophobia came back full force. By morning he was a mess and was begging for Danny's help. Danny held out until the next night, relented, and put Devon under. This time, however, he wanted to 'get even with the little asshole.'

Danny had Devon sit up on the bed, as he had a few times, and even had him open his eyes while remaining deeply asleep. He told him that for his own good and so that he could learn to relax on his own, Devon need to smoke a cigarette. He lit a cigarette and handed it to Devon and told him he would smoke it, and that he would relax far more than he ever had.

Danny's own cock grew with the power he was starting to have over Devon. Devon took the cigarette and smoked it, inhaling it a little more with each puff. He then told Devon to put the cigarette out and asked him how he liked it. Devon, deeply asleep, told him he hated it, and that it left a terrible taste in his mouth. Danny disagreed with him and told him that, no, he had really liked it - loved it in fact, and the taste had been better than anything Devon had ever tasted. It had been so good that Devon wanted another one.

Devon's face notably changed and he seemed to ponder that new suggestion and then he simply asked if he could have another cigarette. Danny asked why he wanted one and Devon told him "because it was so good. I liked it."

"You want to start smoking then", asked Danny.

"Yes." said Devon. "It relaxes me."

The next day, late in the afternoon, when Danny lit his sixth or seventh cigarette of the afternoon, Devon gathered up his courage and asked if he could try one of Danny's cigarettes. He said he had been watching Danny smoke and he liked the smell of it and thought he might try it.

After the first cigarette, Devon seemed to become addicted. Danny finally told him to get his own cigarettes and after dinner Devon bought a carton of Camels (Danny's brand) at the canteen, finishing a whole pack that evening.

Danny no longer had to worry about smoking in his room. The guards had ceased caring about that rule and now his roommate was a confirmed smoker as well.

Over the next few weeks Danny experimented with other things - he had Devon loving meat more than any other food, he had him swearing like a sailor, told him he had superhuman strength and then had him pick a fight with a kid in the yard - he didn't even feel the blows the kid gave him - had him show interest in tattoos and piercing, had him sucking cock like an ice cream cone - just about anything to try out his new "powers" over Devon.

Now it was time for Plan B which had formed!

Chapter 3

Throughout the six months Bassett continued to strengthen the bond between Devon and himself, punishing him when necessary in order to cement the bond. After three months he was able to sell Devon's body to other prisoners and Devon never seemed to be aware that he had been 'sold' at all.

He had worked on Devon's physical look as well. Under hypnosis he learned all about Devon, about his fears of not being accepted as an adult, his anger at his parents, his sexual interest in men, which had been buried very deep. He used all of this information in his dealings with Devon. He had Devon cut his long hair into a fifties greaser look, making him look older and harder. He more than addicted him to smoking, to the point where he was almost never without his cigarette, and he made him work out until the child-like body was now a massively muscular one which turned on even Devon himself.

Knowing that the time of his sentence was almost up and that Devon would have a few months left to serve, he psychologically planted seeds in Devon's mind so that Devon would barely be able to survive without him. By the time Devon was released from prison he was going to be so desperate to see his friend Danny again that Danny would be able to get anything he asked for.

And Danny already knew what that would be. Devon would be his ticket to the good life. He would become his manager, his confidant, his lover, if necessary, and in turn Devon would give him everything and anything.

Everything went according to plan. After Danny left prison, Devon went almost crazy. He couldn't sleep - spent most of the nights in terror as his claustrophobia returned in full force. He continued to eat and work out because that had been implanted in him as important - Danny wanted him to "look" like a movie star when he left prison and needed to keep him in shape. The sleeplessness would merely put a little age into his face.

When Carol picked Devon up at the prison when he was released there were a few reporters there. The reporters were surprised and rather taken with Devon's new look. Carol was horrified that the man-boy she had brought to prison now seemed like a man, and a hardened one at that. She was appalled with his constant smoking, his foul language and his excessive need to get away from her and find some guy he was in prison with. She had worked out a couple of deals with producers who wanted to meet him about roles in two films. Now she wondered whether the roles would be too young for this new Devon.

Once home, Devon barely looked at the scripts but he realized that they were more of the same beach boy type of role he had come to despise. He had a huge fight with Carol and ended up firing her on the spot saying that if she couldn't get the roles he wanted, he knew someone else who would. So she could just fuck off and he never wanted to see her again.

Carol left in tears wondering how a system that was supposed to rehabilitate could turn such a nice boy into such a creepy lout!

Meanwhile Devon was able to contact Danny's apartment and leave a message that he had to see him. Danny saw him that night - and moved his things in with Devon the next day, and himself in that night.

Danny was to take over all the business affairs of Devon, who just wanted to act. He called around to a number of studios to let them know that he was representing Devon and also notified a number of the tabloids about the 'new' Devon. He contacted magazines and offered to sell them Devon's story.

The 'new Devon' that the public saw was certainly different from the Devon of the past. There was never a picture where he was without a cigarette, his hair was greased and swept back - though always with a length of hair in the eyes, and it was much darker than the public remembered it being. The 'new' poses were very sexual, leaning on walls, with cigarette dangling or tongue licking lips. His interviews were angst-ridden and profane. he had become the rebel for the new generation and it didn't take long for him to gather a new following.

Danny began to control everything that Devon was and did. When Devon brought a girl or boy home for sex, he shared them with Danny: they either accepted the fact or were drugged not to care.

Movie offers of the 'right' kind of film came in. He made them and the reviews were always wonderful. Critics were amazed at how completely Devon was able to take on the character whether it was a gay hustler or a shy misfit. Of course, what they didn't know was that it was all 'method acting' in that Devon did actually become those parts, with Danny's help. And Danny liked the different 'personalities' as he called them, that Devon took on. It made life interesting. He was even beginning to like the 'gay' Devon and the way that 'gay' Devon would seduce him. Of course,. he wasn't queer, he reminded himself, but he still liked it.

Reporters liked an interview with Devon because he would say anything. He seemed to have no fear of truth - and the four letter words that accompanied the truth merely made him contemporary and rebellious.

Danny had also set up a stable of young male actors that could eventually be successors to Devon. He had used hypnosis on them to help their acting, and they were coming well under his control. Some evenings he would have them all hypnotized and ask them to do s and m variations on things, punish each other, rape each other. He had a lot of fun with his cigarette smoking rebels. He even initiated a deal with a major cigarette company that his stars would all smoke their brand in public and have the pack visible in pictures.

In the next ten years Danny became a millionaire many times over, became one of the top five Hollywood producers, owning his own talent agency and small studio. After Devon ceased being useful to him, he convinced him to do B features and eventually he ended up in some porno flicks - giving the films a little class (with a known star) and raking in even more money for the already too rich producer.

For his part, Devon seemed happier than he ever was. It didn't matter what film he acted in, because he was the best. It didn't matter his needs because Danny's needs were more important to him and his whole life was complete because he had such a great man to look after him. It was too bad that he had to get caught trafficking in drugs because his claustrophobia would only come back with another prison tour of duty.

Danny was able to go on to his newest rising star: Zachary.