The True Professional Pt. 03

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Level two turns out to be much more than Cindy expected.
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 12/30/2015
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Dutchboy51
Dutchboy51
255 Followers

Parts 1 and 2 of this series legitimately fit under the general Mind Control umbrella. I'm not so sure that this third installment belongs here. Nevertheless, what started as a story about hypnosis has evolved into some pretty intense Non-consent/Reluctance. I am reluctant to split the stories into different categories lest I lose what few readers I have so before you read, be advised, In part 3 the action gets pretty intense. I strongly suggest you read parts 1 and 2 as prequels. This story concerns the abduction of a beautiful graduate student by a stage hypnotist named "The Amazing Randy." As always, I encourage any feedback from readers, positive or negative. I've taken a significant amount of time to write for you. How about a minute or two of yours in the form of a comment in return?

*****

Randy had meant what he said when he had told Cindy that he was interested in measuring his ability to control his partners, but when he was dealing with someone whose darkest secrets so paralleled his own sometimes it was difficult to judge. Accordingly, as they both enjoyed a simple breakfast at the kitchen table Randy gently removed his mental restraints one layer after another. Once he had her back to near zero control he asked her what she remembered from their time upstairs together. Her answers were completely candid.

"I remember that I was tied, first to the ceiling and then to a chair. I remember the feeling of helplessness, but I wasn't afraid because I sensed a certain... closeness to you, like we were lovers or something. But," she paused "we're not lovers and I barely know you." was her reply.

"What about the sex?" Randy asked. "What do you recall?"

"I'm a little foggy about that," she admitted. "I don't feel any soreness, so if we did have sex, you must have been gentle. Thank you for that."

"Is that what you want, Cindy? Is that what turns you on, gentle sex?" Randy asked her.

"What do you mean?" She asked incredulously. "Do I like being forcibly raped and beaten? Is that what you want to know? Well, it's never happened to me, but I imagine that I would not. I am not a masochist."

"I'm not saying that you are but it's perfectly possible that you do have tendencies, submissive tendencies, and possibly even masochistic tendencies. Do you deny, Cindy, you get excited when you think about being helpless at the hands of a man, a strong man, even an evil man like a criminal? Isn't that really why you are majoring in abnormal psychology? You want to get close to these criminals, these violent men many of whom have committed rape and worse because it excites you sexually. Isn't that so?"

"No, Randy." Cindy said with both determination and self-righteousness.

"Cindy, I told you earlier that my gift allows me to know my subjects, sometimes quite intimately. I do not believe that you are being honest with either yourself or with me. I have allowed you to resurface through multiple layers of hypnotic control because I want you to trust me and to trust that I am not going to harm you. Do you believe that as we sit here right now? Please answer honestly, although as a gesture I will not compel you to do so. Do you trust me?" he asked.

"Trust you to do what?" she asked in return. "I see fetish and bondage gear all over the place here. Unless you are also a cross-dresser I can guess who's going to wear this leather; I am. Why?"

"I answered that only partially before." Randy replied. I'll be more candid this time. I enjoy controlling beautiful women. I have already tied you up and while tied, my touch alone was enough to bring you to a profound climax. I'm willing to bet that when you climax during sex, that is, if you climax during sex, it's barely memorable. I gave you a hypnotic suggestion that we were lovers to alleviate any misgivings you might have about being tied up. Now I know that you are not afraid of being tied up and that you find it highly erotic. Will you at least admit that your memories of yesterday afternoon are pleasant? You said that you remembered being tied up. Do you remember the sex at all? If you'd like I can easily compel you to remember it, but I'd like you to try on your own. Will you try, Cindy?"

Cindy sat in quiet reflection mode. She remembered coming violently while hung. She remembered being tied to the chair. Then she remembered the rest. She looked directly at Randy who sipped wine from his glass and returned her gaze. "You came in my mouth and, and I swallowed." she confessed.

"Did you enjoy it? That is, would you do it again without being compelled hypnotically?" Randy asked.

"I don't know," said Cindy. "I just don't know. It's very hard to sit across the table from a man who, for all intents and purposes kidnapped me and then tied me up and forced me to suck him off, for Christ's sake, and be 'open,' if you get my drift."

"Fair enough," said Randy. "We still have a ways to go. In a moment I am going to put you under again, unless, of course you can say with complete honesty that you would like to experience the next level of menace without the protection that my hypnotic suggestions can give you. Are you ready to make it real?"

"Whoa. Whoa!" Cindy blurted. "Hold off a minute. How many 'levels' are there?" she asked.

"Three in total," was Randy's matter-of-fact reply. "Each one ratchets up the level of bondage; each one involves more intimate sexual contact; and the next one involves an increased level of menace, both psychological and physical. Eventually you will be forced to face yourself and your innermost desires. Once you do, believe me, Cindy, you are going to see the world a lot more clearly and be a whole lot happier."

"I'm afraid," Cindy said softly. "Not so much of you, Randy, but of what I might find out about me. I know now that I do enjoy the thought of helplessness. You are right about the goddamned climax too. It was absolutely amazing. Hell, you may even be right about my career plans. Jesus," she sighed, "it's a lot to take in all at once. I don't feel like I have a whole lot of choice in the matter."

"I hear you, Cindy," Randy said, "and I do understand your reluctance. That's one of the reasons that there are three levels. I suggest I control you for this level as well, but this time I will allow you to remember more detail and most importantly, your own responses. You will feel it all, experience it all as if it were really happening to you. All I will do is create a scenario and then insert you into it. You will not understand that we are still here in this farmhouse, and that you are safe, or the nature of the larger picture I'm trying to paint for you; you'll just be living in the moment, highly vulnerable. I'm asking for your trust, Cindy."

Cindy was right about one thing. She had absolutely no choice whatsoever in the matter. Randy had taken her away from her comfortable, albeit mundane life in Wellesley by the force of his will. Despite the fact that it was his intention to afford her the opportunity to gain some genuine insight into her innermost self, the kind of revelations folks make pilgrimages to Tibet to gain, that was not his primary interest. At best it was an attempt at justification for what society would almost universally see as a sex crime. Randy was interested in using the confused beauty for his purposes, purposes which were completely unknown to his "guest," because had she known what was in store for her, she would have protested and fought to get away, at least as long as she was at this lighter measure of control. The Amazing Randy, the true professional, had sufficiently sugar-coated the pill so that Cindy merely nodded, signaling her willingness to comply without a fight.

Randy rose from the table and walked behind the beautiful blonde grad student, the beauty he had selected and brought here to this moment in time and space using only his will. He stopped and reached down, clearing her long hair away from her right shoulder and the nape of her neck, which, like the rest of her, was long and lean and oh so beautiful. Randy bent over and kissed her gently on the neck. Cindy moved her head, but Randy couldn't tell whether or not it was to show resistance or merely to provide him with a better angle of approach. He kissed her again on the neck and spoke. "Cindy," he whispered softly into her ear, "in a moment I will speak the word 'upstairs.' When you hear it you will come with me, but you will recognize none of your surroundings, walking as if in a trance. When I say the word 'awaken' you will do exactly that, but you will not know where you are or who I am. It will be up to you to choose how you react to your circumstances.

"Are you ready, Cindy?" Randy said as he pulled back her chair indicating that he expected her to rise. Cindy stood and turned to look into the eyes of the Amazing Randy. She was hoping to find some sort of consolation or sign that everything would be alright.

"Randy?" she said, but before she could finish her sentence or her question or whatever she wanted to say Randy said...

"Let's go upstairs." Cindy stopped in mid-sentence. She was back under control and on her way to level two of her lessons from the master hypnotist.

As they proceeded up the stairs, Cindy walked exactly as she had been instructed- moving slowly as if she were in a trance. She said nothing and faced straight ahead keeping two steps behind her captor. When Randy turned to enter the bedroom the beautiful twenty-six year old meekly followed. "Come over here by the bed and sit down, Cindy," he instructed. Wordlessly, she did exactly that. "Why don't you take a look at these outfits laid out on the bed and see if you would like to wear any of them? If you find anything that you think you'd like to wear, just put it aside. I have a few things to do over here."

Immediately Cindy began inspecting the leather goods on the bed, almost two thousand dollars' worth of black leather and lace, complete with straps, buckles and fasteners of all kinds. She lifted one item up, examined it, and then placed it back where she'd found it. Occasionally she would hesitate and then place one piece or another in a separate pile.

Randy stood by the open door watching his subject through most of the selection process. Cindy was undeniably the most beautiful women he had ever hypnotized and one of the best he had ever seen, period. As she sat serenely on the side of the bed fingering the leather he thought about how good it would feel to see her in leather. Then he thought about how good it would feel to see her struggling and hear her begging for mercy all trussed up in leather. He set about laying out the "accessories."

When he'd finished pre-positioning his props around the room he spoke to Cindy. "Why don't you come over here and show me what you've selected, Cindy? Which one is your favorite?" Wordlessly Cindy rose and brought Randy a black leather corset. It had a steel zipper running up the back and leather cinching straps in front. The corset was topless and bottomless, designed to frame, even accentuate, but not to cover her most private parts.

She smiled as she handed the item to Randy, who laid it across the back of a nearby chair and said "Excellent choice. I can't wait to see you in it. Like anything else?" he asked. This time Cindy returned with a long leather armbinder, the kind used to secure the arms together behind the back. Randy quietly accepted her offering and then said "I like those boots over there. Do you?" Cindy, still in her trance, nodded affirmatively. "Why don't you go get them and put them on for me?" he said. "Here, let me take your bathrobe."

Cindy came over to Randy and turned as she unfastened the front tie while he pulled the cotton robe from her shoulders. She was completely naked underneath. The stunning blonde returned with the boots, sat down in an adjoining chair, extended in turn each perfect leg and then slid, first her right and then her left leg into a black leather boot. After she had zipped and fastened the many buckles that adorned each boot, which covered her legs up to mid-thigh, she stood. The five inch heels caused her to teeter a bit as she worked to find her balance. Finding her sea legs, she reached behind the chair for the corset. "Yes, that too," said Randy. "Put it on."

Cindy complied. In a minute, after zipping herself up, she had pulled the corset around so that the zipper was properly in the back and the straps were in front. Then, one at a time, she fastened the leather cinches pulling each tightly. The corset, already a good fit, now molded her figure in the most extreme way. Her wasp waist was as thin as she could make it; her hips and bust accentuated, not that they needed it, by the contrast of thin with broad as well as with black leather against white flesh. Her breasts, bulging out of the topless corset hardly sagged at all. Cindy McCarthy was an intoxicating sight.

"Now please get the last piece, Cindy," Randy asked. After she had retrieved the long black leather arm binder, Randy gently positioned her arms behind her back, had her clasp her hands together and slid the giant leather enclosure up her arms. Matching straps crisscrossed over her shoulders making a one inch 'X' between her exposed breasts. Randy fastened and then tightened each of the two straps and then turned his attention to the cinching straps which ran up her arms.

She was dressed for the day.

Still in her trance-like state with her arms pulled back behind her by the restrictive arm binder, Cindy looked to her captor for instruction. For his part, Randy was content just to admire his handiwork for a while. He was not in a hurry; why should he be? They were alone in the master bedroom of an old New England farmhouse at least a quarter of a mile from the nearest person. He was looking at one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen in his life and he was in complete and total control of his spectacular blonde puppet.

There were no limits to his options, which ran from setting her free with absolutely no memory of with whom she had been, where she had been, or what she had done, all the way to slitting her throat and burying her in the nearby woods. That kind of power was heady stuff and Randy was a power freak. He had created this scene precisely in order to experience this moment. He had all day; in fact, he had as many days as he wanted to pull Cindy's strings.

Randy had no intention of actually harming her. He had told her that he would help her to release her inner self and that was his intention. The problem he pondered as he stood like a sculptor who had just finished a life-sized statue, was how to fine tune his "treatment." How was he to break through Cindy's psychological shielding and reach into the core of what made this dazzling beauty tick? He knew that underneath her suburban chic exterior was a submissive subterranean bondage freak, yearning to be acknowledged and then released.

Up until this moment Cindy's superego had steadily increased its control of her life. Randy's task was to break through to her id to re-establish a healthier balance between the two. The fact that the act of doing his little psychological readjustment would provide him with penultimate sexual satisfaction was merely icing on the cake.

Randy broke out of his reverie and took hold of the metal ring at the end of the arm binder, attaching it to a metal chain the other end of which he attached to an eye bolt screwed deep into the room's exposed carrying beam. The leverage created by this attachment lifted Cindy's hands and pushed her shoulders down and forward into a kind of forced stoop. Randy was careful to restrict, but not to hurt his charge. As Cindy jackknifed forward her breasts hung almost straight down like twin udders on the most beautiful heifer in the world. Randy imagined pulling up a three legged stool and a bucket and literally milking her oversized breasts. He imagined the sound of the milk stream hitting the bottom of the metal milk bucket. He chuckled to himself.

Rather than release her and having to endure her screams for help Randy decided to use a ratcheting metal gag to force her mouth into the permanently open position. She would be unable to scream, but she would be allowed to gurgle to her heart's content. Randy turned and headed for the door. As he passed through the doorway, he said "Cindy, awaken."

Instantly, and for the first time Cindy became completely aware of herself. She was bent into an impossibly awkward position from which she could not free herself. She had no idea where she was other than the fact that she was in this room. Her boots, which she could examine carefully from her position, were totally unfamiliar because they weren't hers, although they were not uncomfortable. The luxurious feel of the soft shoe leather ran all the way up her leg, almost to her pussy.

She felt her nakedness and was aware of the tight restriction around her waist. As she moved, that is, circled around the ceiling pivot point she saw no one, but she could feel her breasts flapping against her leather corset. She tried to cry for help but all she could accomplish was a few saliva-filled "gaahs" and "ggghs" from her wide open mouth. Worst of all, she knew instinctively that if she struggled too much her balance might be compromised and she would fall, ripping her arms right out of their sockets. All she could do was rotate and drool. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She was terrified and very uncomfortable.

Randy left her alone for a good twenty minutes listening to her muffled protests and the sound of her heels constantly readjusting along the wooden floor while he put on his outfit for the day. He too was clad in leather from head to toe: leather boots, leather pants, leather shirt and leather hood. He adjusted the leather hood so only his eyes, mouth and nostrils would be revealed to his beautiful captive. He strode into the room, picked up a black leather paddle and walked over to the dangling prisoner who, sensing what was about to happen, adjusted her position constantly to keep her rear end away from the business end of the paddle. Randy was having none of it. He simply grabbed her conjoined arms and lifted. Cindy's rotational antics stopped immediately.

An instant later she felt the bitter sting of the leather paddle on her bare ass. She bucked like a brahma bull as saliva from a stifled plea sprayed from her mouth the way old paint comes out of a clogged spray can nozzle, mostly aerosol but with a significant number of plainly visible globs. Immediately her lungs reversed pressure and air rushed back in, priming for another attempt at protest. Before she could put her lungs back into forward the paddle returned to the same spot it had just left. She drew in even more breath before finally gurgling another protest, complete with spittle spray. Two determined blows to the ass from a thirty inch leather paddle a mere three inches wide and this proud example of young American womanhood, this alabaster creature was reduced to indecipherable, drool-filled gurgles and tears.

Randy released her arms and took a step back. Cindy spun immediately to keep her reddening behind from harm's way. Now facing her attacker she lifted her gaze to meet his. All she could see was a pair of expressionless dark brown eyes staring back from behind an expanse of black leather. She tried to speak to the man who just stared back at her, saying absolutely nothing in return. "Glug glug bah dah glub," she pleaded. "Gluh buh klah dun," she earnestly added. Randy stood expressionless and unmoved while he watched one after another of her globs of spit fall to the floor. Cindy shook her head back and forth frustrated that her words, which were of course not words at all to the man holding the paddle but to her were an impassioned plea for mercy and freedom, had absolutely no effect on the brute.

Dutchboy51
Dutchboy51
255 Followers
12