Disclaimer: This is fiction. Do not misrepresent it as anything but. Fiction is not reality. I do not condone any actions depicted herein.
Tags: Underage, Hypno, Accomplice, Drugs
Kind of a test. Had an idea about a "realistic hypno" scenario (if there even is such a thing), so I went for it. Hope you'll enjoy it. Was originally going to make it about a woman who's forcefully an accomplice to the rape of her own kid, but I deviated a little. Might still do that as a continuation - we'll see.
As always, feedback is welcomed.
A Cure For Adversity
It was a regular Friday night at The Keg-er. The bar attracted mostly kids from the nearby college partially due to their cheap imported beer, but most importantly because it was located smack dab in the middle of the road to the nearest nightclub from the dormitories. Drunk, horny and wild, the students dared each other in drinking games and funny anecdotes. Michael sat in his usual spot, at the corner of the bar where he could always get the attention of the barman – a man who had both seen more puke and more violence than a war veteran unfold before his eyes, and in many cases intervening whenever it happened. Not because he wanted to help, but because it was his bar, and he would be damned if he’d let someone deliberately destroy his shit and not do anything about it.
These are the things you learn about people if you watch and listen for long enough. Michael had listened for several years now. He was a good listener, although maybe not in the traditional sense. He had learned enough about the barman – Lenny – to know that he wouldn’t snitch. About anything, to anyone. He was an old-school mafia type and police were lower on the scum-scale than all the aggressive 20-somethings that thought they had something to prove. That’s what made this place the perfect hunting grounds for someone like Michael. He wasn’t ugly, or stupid, or without charm – but when you’re closer to fifty than forty, getting college chicks to come home with you is usually a mission that never closes. Besides, he had a side to him that could prove difficult to control once he got going. Three years behind bars for aggravated assault had been enough time for him to contemplate things. The parole board had definitely had their doubts, but he had convinced them that he wholeheartedly meant to never see the inside of a jail cell again. He was, however, confident that what they heard was not really what he had in mind.
It didn't take long before a small posse of college girls grabbed the booth behind him and started talking. The conversation was stale at first, talking about grades they'd gotten and papers they'd written, but after a few drinks, it turned into what Michael would categorize as the "existential dread of becoming adults"-conversation. He sighed – whenever that topic comes up they never leave happy, and while this was most likely just a pre-game party for the clubbing they’d do later, Michael had no interest in following along for what could be hours and hours just to find out that he wouldn’t get anywhere anyway.
But then someone else caught his eye. Two seats away a woman in her mid-20s sat down and flung her hand in the air to signal Lenny, who limped over and adjusted the black bandana he had covering his bald head. Was she there alone? No, she was talking to someone. Michael stuck out his neck to see if it was a dude. It was another woman – older than her, perhaps mid-30s. Jackpot! A mid-20s and mid-30s together meant that they would most likely not go clubbing, that this was their final stop, and that they wouldn't stay until closing time.
Michael moved one seat closer as the man occupying it went away. The loud chaos of voices mixed with rock music drowned out any chance of listening in – for any normal person. Michael thrived in this situation and leaned into the bar and directed his ear to the two ladies. As the hands of the clock on the wall above the bar walked tirelessly around its face at a steady pace, Michael's smile grew wider. Scully, the younger woman's moniker, Michael had gained, was out celebrating her 24th birthday with her longtime friend Mulder. “Mulder” had convinced her friend to join her out on the town for a drink to celebrate, and it had apparently taken a lot of convincing to do so. Why? Because Scully was a single mother with a tiny income that had had to hire a babysitter for her daughter just to grab a few drinks. Michael couldn’t believe his luck.
Michael figured that he had to get rid of Mulder, Scully’s partner in crime, first. The only way he could think of was to make it seem like Scully had found someone to take home with her. He waited for the older friend to go to the bathroom before he swooped in and took her place. He didn’t make contact with Scully right away – he had no problem starting a conversation with a beautiful woman like most guys she probably had dealt with, but he also knew that right off the bat being too interested would make it seem like he was there to practice his pickup lines. He instead reached in to order a beer from Lenny, keeping a close eye on the door to the bathroom in his peripheral vision. As the friend swung the door open Michael turned to Scully and took her hand to shake it. Simple, but also dignified in a way. He told her his name was Bruce and asked for hers. She responded not with “Scully”, but with “Alice”. Michael pointed at her brown, slightly red-tinted hair, which was in an almost juvenile hairstyle that let her hair flow down somewhat past her shoulders with bangs hiding her right eyebrow.
“More like a Dana, I’d say. You know, from The X-Files?” She blushed and smiled brightly as Michael took advantage of what he had overheard.
“That’s like my favorite show!” she answered. Her friend approached and poked her arm to get her attention.
“And this must be Mulder, I guess?" Michael didn't even turn his gaze to her friend but remained fixed on Alice. Alice laughed, not really wanting to turn to her friend either, right now, but doing it anyway.
“You know, I should go. I got that thing tomorrow that we talked about…” Mulder dives in to grab her purse and promptly turns the other way, seeing how her friend is apparently enjoying herself. How was she supposed to know that they had barely even said a word to each other? “Have fun!” she exclaims on her way out the door.
Step one was completed. Michael let the conversation flow, retelling an anecdote one of the college girls from before had spurted out between her frantic pacing and almost incoherent falsetto. It wasn’t hard to keep her attention, but Michael could see that she wouldn’t come home with him, nor did he really want her to. Michael thumbed the capsule of brownish powder he had in his pocket, waiting for an opportunity. It was a mixture of Rohypnol, Nitrazepam, Dextroamphetamine and a little bit of Scopolamine. His own recipe – one that made someone as loose and weak as with pure Rohypnol, but more clear-minded and almost completely unable to resist suggestions; he called it "Hypno" because it really resembled those shitty magic tricks where people are made to quack like ducks – only his was the real deal. Being a good listener does have its perks, but it never reveals how sexy someone is. Michael had ample time to study her entire being as their face-to-face exchange went on. She was a beauty – light, smooth-as-butter skin, a thin but wide smile that could end wars and dark green eyes that she painted in dark colors to emphasize them. She wore her LBD like it was custom fitted to her, the flared skirt ending three inches above the knee and the mesh on her back almost like a cleavage for her shoulder blades. Proportionally she was a bit heavier up top than she was down below, which Michael loved, being a tits man.
A glass broke and some guy shouted at the top of his lungs in one of the booths along the large window panes facing the street. It was a show of testosterone and nothing else. But most everyone looked, including Alice, and Michael made his move, dumping the contents of the capsule he was clutching into her orange Alabama Slammer. The drink fizzed, bubbles escaping their entrapments at the bottom of the glass to rise to the top and soon after disappearing without a trace. He looked to Lenny, who sneered back at him, clearly having borne witness to the whole thing. Lenny shook his head and continued pouring the beer from the tap into the glass. Step two, completed.
Michael turned back to Alice and started up the conversation again, as charismatic as ever. As long as she finished her drink, she wouldn’t remember anything anyway, so making himself memorable was not an issue. He would have to handle a conversation with her for 45 minutes to an hour for the effects of the drug to take hold – nothing he couldn't handle. Truth is, he could talk about warplanes from the 1960's or how the economic crisis in Iceland affected the World Bank – she wouldn't just walk out on him if he kept the conversation going. It didn't matter how interested she was in what he was saying or how attracted she was to him – he was going to get her either way. He knew that much.
Michael looked at his wristwatch when he noticed her eyes starting to glaze over. 34 minutes since she first took a sip of the concoction. She had long since finished the drink, and as he probed her responsiveness he knew it was about time to make his next move.
"Let's go home to your place," Michael said, devoid of any emotion. He had no use for the affectionate personality he had built up anymore.
"I like you," Alice responded, giggling. Michael took a strong grasp of her arm and walked her out of the bar. Alice chirped joyfully as she tried to keep up, her mind playing every kind of trick on her. They went around the back of the block, away from the people and the commotion, and Michael helped her into his inconspicuous looking Ford Focus. As he plopped down in the driver’s seat he looked over at the young woman. She was smiling ear to ear, her eyes slowly floating from one detail to the next, not really focusing on anything. He could tell her to do anything he wanted right now, and she would hear it as it were her own thoughts.
“What’s your address?” Michael asked her. Alice rested her cheek against her shoulder looking at him seductively.
“1146 Westwood Ave. It’s a brown brick- what’s those called? Brown… Brown-something. Anyway, I live in a brown one on 1146 Westw-“ she rumbled.
“Yeah, I got it, shut the fuck up,” Michael interrupted her. She kept smiling, not changing a single facial expression. She understood the words, but it was like they were a truth she wouldn’t want to argue with. The truth. What would be the point of arguing with the ultimate truth? Better to just accept it. So that’s what she did.
Michael started the car and put it in gear. The warm sound of a lone engine humming and keys jingling from the ignition every time there was a crack in the road or a speed hump were almost like soothing music.
“I am so wet. Look.” Alice picked her fingers out from under the hem of her skirt and pushed her thumb and index finger together. A string of her sticky juices formed and quickly severed as she pulled them apart. “I bet you’re gonna give me- give me that dick, huh?” She leaned over and put the hand on Michael’s crotch, stroking his cock through his jeans as he drove through the quiet backstreets.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be screaming my name,” Michael smiled back at her. Alice sat back in her seat and plunged her fingers back underneath her skirt.
“Can’t scream – that’ll wake her up. I don’t even know- babysitter is still there – what time is it?” Alice’s mind forgot the question the moment she uttered the syllables needed to form it. Michael saw an opportunity.
“Who’s the babysitter?” He asked, slithering a hand over to her collarbone. He hooked his fingers below her cleavage and felt the soft round mound of flesh in his hand. Instantly his cock started growing as he groped her chest, finding her stiff nipples between his fingers. Alice moaned as she rubbed her clit in sync with his groping.
“Brooklyn. She’s my boss’s- no, my boss’s- er, my boss’s ex-boyfriend’s daughter. Super sweet with Harper,” Alice stammered for an answer, thinking nothing of it. Literally.
“Is she hot?” Michael kept going. He knew she couldn’t help but answer.
“Very cute – freckles and a lip piercing. I wish I was that cool when I was sixteen – I could've gotten any boy I wanted inside me." Alice started giggling. "I mastur- masturbate a lot thinking about her.” Michael laughed, long and gleefully, still with his hand inside Alice’s dress. He knew she was completely under his spell – hell, she had just confessed to him that she likes to fantasize about underage girls.
“If she’s still at home, I think we should fuck her.” Michael pinched her nipple as he said it, which produced another moan.
“I don’t think she wants to. She’s very- er- courageous? No – confident? I dunno, I don’t think she wants to fuck you,” Alice responded, still rubbing away at her clit as the car rolled slowly down the two-lane street.
“I guess we need to rape her, then. Right?” Michael said as he stopped at a red light. He looked over to Alice to gauge her reaction. There was none. Not a visible one, anyway.
“Mm-hm,” Alice agreed, accepting the truth Michael had given her once again.
Michael parked his car a few hundred feet away from the address Alice had supplied him and helped her out of her seat. He popped the trunk and put a roll of duct tape in his pocket and grabbed a ski mask he had stashed for emergencies. They walked arm in arm like they were a couple on honeymoon, Alice leaning her whole body against his arm like he was the love of her life, even though she had met him only a little more than an hour ago at that point. Michael let her take the last few steps up to her door herself and put on his ski mask behind her. Alice fumbled a little with the keys but managed after a few tries to find the right one and opened the door. Her home was nicely decorated in warm, wooden colors with an old-timey feel to it. “Cozy” would be the best word to describe it, Michael thought. The smell of well-kept flowers that adorned her window sills blended with that of popcorn – an inevitability on a Friday movie night. The floorboards squeaked underneath his feet as Michael took his shoes off – not that he needed to, but he didn’t want to leave anything behind that he didn’t have to.
Alice walked in front of him into the living room and Michael reached down to squeeze her firm ass. He hid his figure, but mostly his black mask covered face, behind hers as Brooklyn popped up from the couch. She was drowsy, having fallen asleep herself after putting Harper to bed.
“Hey Scull, did you have fun?” Brooklyn asked, yawning.
“I did. I am. I- Yes. We are actually- Actually, we’re going to rape you. Fun, huh?” Alice poked Brooklyn in her shoulder like she was playfully teasing her. Like she had told her they were going to play tag. Brooklyn put her weight on her back foot, wondering if this was a joke brought on by too much alcohol or not.
“I’ll- I’ll just come back tomorrow for my money, I think,” Brooklyn answered as she saw Michael standing behind Alice, burying his head in the back of her neck. Alice nodded approvingly. The drug did not discriminate; everyone’s voice would hold the same weight in her head if someone hadn’t told her otherwise. Michael shoved Alice to the side and leaped towards Brooklyn. Alice fell, tumbling over the edge of the couch to the floor. Brooklyn didn't have time to really react and all she did was put a hand over her mouth in surprise. Michael replaced her hand with his own and twisted her into a headlock from behind. Brooklyn clawed at his hand, unsuccessfully trying to pry his form off of her. She screamed into his hand, the sound muffled and dull, like through a swimming pool, and her eyes watered. The fear in her body language and, Michael thought, surely expressed on her face although he couldn’t see it from his vantage point, were overpoweringly real. Her whole body was shaking purely from being restricted by this unknown man. Alice dizzyingly stood up again and smiled towards them both. Brooklyn tried to let out a cry for help, but the smile she got back made her question herself for a second, delaying the instinct to scream.
“Grab the duct tape from my jacket, would you dear? We’re gonna tape her mouth shut,” Michael ordered Alice, who happily complied, bringing the silver bondage with her as she strutted across the living room to her babysitter and her newfound truthsayer. The memory of being pushed to the ground, and hurting her arm a bit on the way down was still there. It hadn't disappeared or been repressed, but to her, it was not only her fault but her idea to do it. She couldn't help but enjoy it – because surely if you yourself choose to fall and be hurt, it must be more enjoyable than staying upright… Right? To Alice, there was nothing more obvious than that at that very moment. Her subconscious rewarded everything she experienced by telling her she wanted it.
Michael pushed the babysitter down face first into the couch she had just been in and reached for his pocket. He pulled out another capsule of the brownish powder that had Alice in a bind. He pushed it into Brooklyn’s mouth from the side and pulled her up again. He pinched her nose shut and covered her mouth with his other hand.
“Swallow it, or I will fucking kill you!” Michael said. The scared little girl had no choice but to swallow the pill, and with it give him her mind. “You say a fucking word and you die, you understand me?” Michael followed his first death threat up with a second one. He wouldn’t be needing a third. She nodded, still with his hands covering her mouth and nose. Michael looked to Alice, who stood ready right next to them with duct tape in hand. “Put the tape over her mouth,” he commanded her. Alice pulled on the tape and put it over Brooklyn’s mouth as Michael removed his hand. He grabbed the roll of tape from Alice and pulled it around Brooklyn’s head, circling it several times, creating layer after layer of duct tape across her mouth. He bit the tape off and threw the roll away. He spun Brooklyn around and shoved her back down to the couch, releasing her from his grip and letting her breathe. Her hands and feet were still free, but judging from her demeanor, Michael assumed she wouldn’t dare to do anything. He removed his ski mask – it had no use anymore.
Alice had been right. She was super cute. Wearing just sweatpants and a loose-fitting shirt she looked very innocent. Michael had to squint to see the freckles Alice had told him about, but they were definitely there, hidden beneath a layer of make-up. The lip-piercing he never saw, but he definitely felt it scrape against his hand – surely he would see it a while later, he told himself. Her hair was dyed raven black and made into a long braid that started at the back and came over the front of her left shoulder. Her piercing light blue eyes would melt a boy’s heart in a second, and now that they were starting to redden at the edges Michael wasn’t sure they wouldn’t just melt his, too. Some girls are pretty when they cry, some are ugly – Brooklyn would be something special – Michael was sure of it.
“Take off your shirt,” Michael said, pointing to Brooklyn’s dark red long-sleeved t-shirt. She then realized that Alice’s remark before was true. She was probably going to be raped by the man now standing in front of her. Her eyes started pouring out tears as she pleaded with her hands with the man, shaking her head violently to show her disdain for the situation and for him. For someone who has never been hit before, the first time is more surprising than painful at first. It’s like your mind goes “wait, did I just get hit? Isn’t that like… against the rules?”. It’s so far beyond your comprehension that you just can’t help but be confused. Brooklyn stopped crying and looked up at Michael with wide eyes as his fist came back to his level, leaving a red imprint of his knuckle on her left cheek. Then the confusion began subsiding and the pain came into light as she sat back up from being knocked over to her side. The tears came back, and the pleading started again – only this time she didn’t even remember his orders, she just wanted to be left alone – to go home. “Take your fucking shirt off, or you’ll get another one,” Michael reminded her of why he punched her. Alice stood next to them, staring off into space, not at all bothered by anything that was happening around her. Brooklyn closed her eyes and started taking her shirt off, slowly, trying to remain modest for as long as possible she finally slid the shirt over her head and put it down next to her. Her arm was slung across her chest, hiding her bare tits from her assailant. Michael didn’t care – he would have all of her soon enough. A few seconds more of hiding wouldn’t make a difference. “Alice, take off her pants,” Michael looked to his unknowing, but willing, accomplice.
“Okay,” Alice answered and got down on her knees beside Brooklyn, her hands slowly reaching for the waistline of her sweatpants to pull them down. Brooklyn retreated into the couch a little further, more than perturbed by her employer’s – and friend’s – sudden change in behavior. The couch wasn’t that big, and her retreat only lasted for a second before Alice came after her like a sloth after a juicy leaf. Michael stood next to them the entire time, ready to meddle should Brooklyn get any ideas. She didn’t. She looked up into the ceiling and covered her crying eyes with her hands, letting her breasts come into full view as Alice caught up with her and started pulling at her pants. Somehow it was no longer a priority to hide anything – she just wanted to wish it away. The sweatpants revealed some light grey boyshorts that Michael ordered Alice to remove as well. Brooklyn kept her face hidden in her hands but didn’t resist Alice as she returned to her babysitter’s waistline once more.
Michael put his big hand down on Brooklyn’s naked belly, and she instinctively started twisting her body away from him as much as she could. But there was no escape as his callouses scuffed her skin, touching her in ways she had never been touched by a man before. She grabbed his upper arm, ready to push him away, but she realized he would just hit her again. She wasn’t even prepared to try in fear of retaliation. But she also didn’t know what to do with her hands – the hands he had let be free, even though they were just as much in chains as her voice – so she held on to his arm. Feeling his muscles move his arm and hand up to her chest a shiver went down her spine. Rape. She had fantasized about it – of course she had. But she never wanted it to real, and now that it was about to happen – the fingers clutching at her breasts made her sure of it – her emotions ran wild. Her system was overloaded, running at a capacity it never had before, resulting in nothing but a panicked stare and a constant whimpering. Unsure of what to do, she did nothing. Not even when Michael told Alice to eat her out did she really react.
Alice's mind had heard Michael's request to eat her babysitter out, and it had converted it into action without much thought – it was, after all, her own decision, wasn't it? She scooted closer to the subject of her desire and wrested her knees open. The tight pink opened up to her, inviting her in. Alice felt mischievous as she crept closer with her mouth to the teen's pulsating lips – like she was acting out some adolescent prank. The words that Michael had told her in the car were both stuck in her mind and lost in the muddle of her thoughts at once. How she had explained that Brooklyn wouldn't be into having sex, and Michael – no, she – had convinced herself that she needed to rape the girl because of it. Finally, she was close enough that the scent of her babysitter’s sex was all-consuming and Alice opened her mouth and started to French kiss the beautiful innocence.
Brooklyn jumped a little as she felt the warm, wet breath of Alice on her clit, and soon after a tongue that swirled in circles and up and down, greedily lapping away between her legs. All the while she couldn’t take her eyes off the man who was groping her – the man she still held on to, despite the fact that she hated every second of it. A new wave of hopelessness came over her and her chest heaved in time with her sobbing as Michael stepped out of his pants. His cock was hard and big, at least she thought it was big – the only reference she had was internet porn, but that was so far out of her mind at that moment that it was only a matter of comparing it to her own proportions. He must’ve been as big as her forearm, she thought. Will her forearm fit inside of her? Because that’s what’s next, isn’t it?
She didn't have to wait long to get her unasked question answered, as Michael only stroked his cock for a minute or two before he couldn't wait any longer. He pulled Alice out of Brooklyn's crotch and made her sit next to the teen. Lazily and droopy-eyed she complied and started playing with a few loose strands of Brooklyn's hair as Michael got himself into position between her legs. Brooklyn finally lets go of Michael's arm, wiping tears out of her eyes as her sobbing continued. She wasn't ready at all when Michael thrust into her. She nearly ripped the duct tape off her face by screaming into it as he broke her hymen and propelled himself further. Her hands came flying to his arm again, this time frantically trying to push him away as the hot, searing pain spread throughout her groin. Her legs were shaking, cramping in epilepsy as Michael's cock pierced right through her. Brooklyn looked at Alice, but did not get so much as a raised eyebrow, but instead a kiss on her forehead from the non-emoting woman.
Hard and fast Michael went, fucking the babysitter past her limits. He didn’t much care for her well-being or her pleasure. It felt fucking amazing having his cock inside her tight little cunt, and he wasn’t about to stop because she was whining. As his pleasure rose, his uncontrollable side knocked on the door to be let out – no, it kicked the door open and came out all on its own. Suddenly he jabbed his hand into Brooklyn's throat, squeezing tightly, restricting her air supply and all of her whining went away in an instant. The sound of his cock violently thrashing into a tight pussy was the only sound that could be heard, except for a few chirps and sputters of Brooklyn trying to gather a breath under his supreme reign. Michael let up only for a second, and only to replace it with a barrage of slaps. Hard, full-palm slaps that echoed louder than her screams were a few seconds ago. Backhands on the way back, throwing the teen’s head from side to side as her arms yet again couldn’t find an appropriate response to the onslaught.
“Don’t kill her?” Alice asked, a frown having formed on her expression as the barrage continued and her babysitter was pummeled from two sides by the man she brought home with her. Michael stopped his dark side as he heard her speak. He grabbed Alice by her throat instead and dragged her face over to Brooklyn’s.
“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, cunt! If I want to kill this bitch, I will! Now lick the fucking tears off her cheek!” Michael barked, consumed by the violent delights he had engulfed himself in. Alice’s mind wandered away from her own thoughts again and the frown disappeared. She had trouble breathing, but that’s probably what she needs, she reasoned. The girl’s face who was next to her was red and warm, a bleeding or two from popped blood vessels underneath her skin showed up as small red dots and Alice could see a tear rolling down from her eye over her cheek and down the silver tape covering her mouth. Alice got an urge to lick the tear, so she stuck out her tongue and did just that. Another tear comes down the same canal created by the first one – sexy! Michael let Alice do her thing and instead focused on Brooklyn again.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he exclaimed, looking down at the two girls as he pumped his manhood into Brooklyn. The slim teen nymph was quietly crying as he fucked her – her eyes scrunching with every thrust showing him how little she enjoyed it. That was enough for him. He started to feel the sensation – he was about to cum. “Oh, fuck, I’m about to- I’m gonna cum!” he groaned. The teen’s eyes widened as she caught his gaze – there was no way she was going to stop him from shooting his load inside of her, even though she desperately wanted there to be a way. She tried pleading to him with her eyes, but that seemed to only make him even more turned on by the idea. As she felt her insides getting coated with the hot liquid she let her head fall down to the side in defeat. Michael convulsed on top of her, sending streams of his cum into her with every grunt. He stayed inside of her for a good minute, collecting himself and making sure to not let any of the babyjuice spill out. When he finally did climb off he sat down next to Brooklyn, telling Alice to stop her tear licking antics. He leaned Brooklyn’s head to his chest as he stroked her hair lovingly and groped at her breasts while she sobbed uncontrollably.
He wasn’t done, and soon she would be a zombie just like Alice.
