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По умолчанию Russian Investigation - political intrigue and hypnosis story

Let me know if you want more...

Chapter 1

The presidential election is about two years away and already the front runners are asserting themselves.

Unbeknownst to most Americans the power struggle behind the scenes have already started. The prize is the ultimate control of the American and perhaps the world economy and politics.

In Geneva an unmarked private jet sits on the runway. A limousine pulls up just yards away and out gets a handsome man in his mid 30s, wearing a dark double-breasted suit and red tie, carrying a briefcase. He marches unaccompanied to the steps of the plane that are open and climbs aboard.

Pleased to be out of the freezing Geneva winter air he takes off his tailored jacket and a young man reaches out to grab it off him. "Good afternoon, Mr. Cavner" the young man says in a distinctly European accent.

Justin Cavner was the son-in-law of a real estate tycoon, Dennis Trumo - one of the leading candidates to be President of the United States. He was quite successful in his own right having come from the banking industry. He married Trumo's daughter several years ago. Cavner was tall and lean, had brown hair and brown eyes.

The attendant hung up Cavner's jacket and returned a moment later with a hot face towel, which Cavner quickly used to wipe his face and the back of his neck.

As Cavner handed the towel back to the attendant Justin's brown eyes were met with the steely, deep blue eyes of a young blond attendant dressed smartly in all-white. Justin cast his eyes over to the very young man. He was wearing a crisp white shirt a white belt and long white pants. As Justin cast his eyes down he saw the boy's bare feet, slightly tanned with magnificent white toenails, neatly trimmed and perfectly smooth and shiny.

Cavner's gaze stayed there for just a moment until he spoke, drawing Justin's gaze back to the boy's sparkling blue eyes.

"We'll be cruising at 28,000 feet and the flight will take approximately four and a half hours to Moscow."

Justin's eyes remained firmly fixed to the boy's, which was completely understandable. The boy's eyes were unnaturally penetrating, dark blue rings on the outside of his irises, a deep, three-dimensional blue as one traces their view into the centre and bordering the dark, black, endless pupils is a ring of whiteness that ensnares even the casual glancer into the boy's gravitational-pull.

"Mr. Cavner there is no time for that just now, you must do your work for the meetings in Moscow. I'm sure you will find a heightened ability to concentrate on your work right now, without any distractions - just concentrating and focussing, isn't that right Mr. Cavner...?"

"Yes," drawled Justin in a lower monotone than he was used to uttering.

With that, the boy stood up and walked off.

About two hours into the flight, after a solid session of writing notes, Justin closed his notebook and put it on the table next to his leather aircraft recliner.

The attendant walked over with a tray of champagne, with two glasses. He put the tray down on the table in front of Justin and proceeded to pour the champagne, handing one to Justin.

In fact, the boy was no mere flight attendant at all. He was, in fact a part of the vast conspiracy that was over a decade in the making, with Justin Cavner at the very center.

The boy's name was Anton and Cavner had had several encounters with him previously. Anton proceeded to sit opposite Cavner in the backward-facing seat and lifted Justin's notebook. Picking up the champagne in his other hand, Anton put his right foot up on the table, directly in front of Cavner who was sipping on his champagne.

Justin's glass of champagne hovered near his lips completely motionless. His eyes transflixed on Anton's foot, inches away from his face. As Anton read the notes, he scrunched his toes, pointing them directly if not deliberately at Justin. Justin didn't move.

"What did you mean by 'Ray Emerson may not come on board'? Emerson is crucial to our plans - he must become Secretary of State."

Anton lowered the book to see the trajectory of Justin's gaze.

"See, Mr Cavner, I did remember your predeliction for bare feet. And mine in particular, it seems."

Cavner's eyes remained fixed on his feet, his head leaning slowly forward to inhale some of that sweet scent - embedded as they were with the highest concentration of beta hypnocytes from any part of Anton's body.

Seeing that Cavner had moved ever so rapidly from his waking state, Anton lowered his leg to the floor. Cavner remained completely still as if nothing had happened, as if Anton hasn't moved his foot at all.

"Mr Cavner...Justin."

Anton leaned forward, peering directly at Cavner's brow, which slowly rose - his eyes meeting Anton's at which point they opened wider, his pupils also widening as if meeting a docking station and achieving maximum locking strength.

"What did you mean?"

"Emerson has decided that it's too much risk being associated with some of the things that Trumo says. He wants to bow out," said a wide-eyed Cavner.

"Well, then very good timing that he's visiting our friends at Rosprom in Moscow. We must invite him over for a chat, don't you think?"

"Yes, Anton."

"Text him and ask him to meet us at the dacha when we land."

"I don't think that's a good idea. He may not be available, he said he is on a very tight schedule."

"You seem to have accumulated some doubt on your trip to Europe. You need to be more pursuasive, Mr. Cavner," said Anton.

Leaning forward and intensifying his gaze toward Justin, Anton continued "we must eliminate that doubt and reassert the values of our mission, don't you think?"

"Are you going to..." eeked out a meeker Justin, slight fear entering his eyes.

"Arkady asked me to look after you and that's what I intend to do, Justin. You can enjoy my feet, Justin whilst I read the rest of your report."

Sitting back in his recliner, he continued "but first, that text message, if you please..."

Anticipating what was to come next, a more compliant Justin Cavner lifted his phone and dutifully sent the message.

Upon putting his phone back down, Anton let out a little smile, then said "just enjoy, Justin. And relax..." before lifting both his feet back onto the table. Anton's left ankle had a red and white anklet tied around it, a little covert trinket that only those in the know are aware make him part of a very special group.

Anton curled and uncurled his perfectly shaped and manicured toes in a very slow, rhythmic pattern. The motion included tightly pressing his big toe with the corresponding second toe on each foot for a few seconds before releasing it rapidly with a flicking sound which annotated the friction that had been released in the motion.

Justin leaned slightly forward, shifting his eyes back to the boy's feet. His wide glare and dilated pupils giving away his renewed altered state. As the flicking continued Justin inhaled deeply his eyes glazing over but remaining fixed on their target.

It wasn't only friction - the motion released a burst of beta hypnocytes which rapidly take over the central nervous system of their victim. Those who know are aware of the sweet, sweet smell that accompanies them, but by the time you detect it it's often too late - they have entered your body.

Anton's feet were particularly potent not just because he had been wearing leather loafers all day, but because his particular brand of perfection endowed him with the most perfect feet Cavner had ever seen. Without the beta hypnocytes they would have been powerful enough on their own. With them, they were devastating.

Aware of his hold over Cavner, Anton picked up the notebook in his long, slender fingers and returned to reading.

From behind the book the voice drifted across the cabin, "deeper Justin, that's right, enjoy the thrall, the peace, the heaviness that is descending on you...now."

"So heavy, so relaxed. The weight of your body magnifying whilst your mind floats. You remember the feeling, as my power enters your body, your mind and your soul."

Cavner slumped into his chair, still completely enthralled by the boy's feet but now rendered completely motionless, mind spinning into oblivion.

For a few minutes Anton continued reading until he had finished the report, completely ignoring Cavner for the moment.

On the other side of the table, Anton's feet were now the object of Cavner's entire world. Every flick of his toes, every tiny motion releasing more beta hypnocytes taking Cavner further and further into his deep, relaxing and obedient new world.

Anton put the book down and looked at his subject.

"Justin, look deeply into my eyes. You know how they make you feel, how they allow me to access the deepest parts of your mind..."

Justin's gaze moved reluctantly from the boy's feet up to Anton's penetrating glare.

At the distance between Justin's motionless, slumped body and Anton's the appearance of Anton's dark, thick eyebrows accentuated his compelling glare - eyes bordered by long, dark eyelashes completely in contrast with his stark blond hair.

If possible, those eyes seemed more powerful than ever, catching the sunlight coming in through the window in the aircraft seemed to make the blue in his eyes totally electric. But of course, they were more powerful than mere electricity...

Despite how deep Justin was at that point in time he was still able to feel fear when told to match gazes with the boy. He knew that to lock eyes was to surrender control, that some change was about happen: a change that might make Justin remember something that didn't otherwise exist, forget a cherished memory, or twist his feelings about something or someone. Anton's glare could completely remap his mind. And there was nothing the otherwise-powerful executive could do about it.

"Justin, it seems that you had some doubts creep into your mind about what needed to be done. I want you to release all that doubt from your mind, as we need to move to the next phase."

"Feel it drift away. To release the doubt is the path to enjoyment, fulfilment and ecstasy. Drift, drift, drift away...NOW"

With a magician's wave of his slender fingers in Justin's direction, his mind spun into a vortex, into a whirlpool where there was no end, only Anton's commands - those fingers - his eyes - his voice.

In a cloudy haze, Justin lucidly dreamed of what was to come next. He dreamed of regaining control of his body so he could lean forward and give in to Anton's feet.

With his whole entire being, he wanted nothing more than to inhale the pungent aroma. He imagined massaging those soft, perfect feet with his hands, being able to feel his toes and toenails and watch as he squeezed them between his fingers hoping more power would eek out as he touched and fondled. Oh, how his hands would smell - his mind absorbing the power - that overwhelmed feeling, a combination of psychic bliss, subjugation and erotic hypnotizm.

And at the moment that Anton permitted, Justin could lean forward and touch his tongue to the boy's heel and slowly moving it up to his arch, then carefully putting his entire mouth around Anton's toes, first a few at a time, then one by one. The taste, the smell, that smooth, perfect, hairless skin, cool to the touch of his tongue...

With a thud the plane landed. Justin opened his eyes and realised he was sitting on his own.

As the plane taxied to the VIP area, Anton reappeared with Justin's belongings. Anton was dressed warmly now. As Justin surveyed the boy from top to toe, he quickly realised that the outfit included white shoes to match the rest of his outfit, much to Justin's dismay.

Cavner knew better than to wonder what had happened. His brain was telling him that he had only been in the air for a couple of hours.

He was eternally grateful that Anton had permitted those hallucinogenic moments of bliss - to be allowed to enjoy those sensual moments that seemed so real, and yet he knew that although blissful and enjoyable, he had no choice in those moments occupying every part of his mind and body.

He knew, though he need not search his memory for the missing moments between Anton's eyes and landing. He would just exert meaningless mental energy and find absolutely nothing. Once, he attempted to recollect what Anton had done whilst he was 'out' and found his mind rapidly scrambling his thoughts so that he had no idea what he was doing.

What happened during those missing hours would remain a mystery to Justin forever.

And, despite how life-changing those moments could have been, he couldn't care less.
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barefoot, hypnosis

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