Coldwar Hypno-Spy
THE HOTEL
<Kak ocheen kraseevee malchik !> what a beautiful boy, the doctor said to himself.
“Where are you from,?” the doctor inquired.
“Puerto Rico, sir”
“And your name is Luis,..as your name tage shows ?”
“That’s right sir, Luis Colon.”
They continued walking down the hall. Puerto Rico.... the doctor thought to himself. He had expected to find the large corn fed American boys, but had not considered any Latin hot peppers. He was pleasantly surprised.
“May I ask where you are from, sir?” the boy asked innocently.
“I am from the Soviet Union,..The Workers’ Paradise. And there is no need to call me ‘sir’.”
“Yes sir.”
“We believe in the equality of workers.” The doctor was finding himself starting to repeat the same stale lies he so despised hearing at home.
The two suitcases were heavy and beads of sweat were starting to appear on the bellboy’s face.
The doctor realized how obviously empty his statement had been in the face of the boy’s efforts with the bags.
“Uh...let me help you with one of those suitcases...”
“Oh no thank you sir, the management wouldn’t allow that. Besides we’re almost there.”
Relieved that his offer had been declined, the doctor studied his hallway companion.
The boy was dressed in a bellboy uniform: dark burnt orange jacket with double breasted brass buttons. It looked rather like a military uniform which the doctor thought it was at first. He wore black wool pants with a satin stripe down the outside leg. A crisp white shirt and black bow tie completed the outfit. The sheen of oil on his freshly barbered head indicated that not one hair on his thick mane would be out of place all day. Not here,...not at the Waldorf. He was diminutive,...short to be unkind—but with a face so young looking it was easy to believe he might yet grow a few more inches. His bright dark eyes flashed when he smiled.
“Are you here for the United Nations, sir?”
“Yes, I’ll be attending some conferences.”
“Here we are sir. Put the bags in the bedroom for you, sir ?”
“Yes, that’ll be fine.”
In spite of his small size he toted the bags into the bedroom and carefully set them down. A couple of years doing this had built a strong hard body onto this small frame.
“The radio is on the table sir. Some of our rooms even have television but not this one yet. Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?”
“No, but thank you for your service.”
It was obvious the boy wanted something else. He lingered a few seconds too long. Then it struck him: the boy wanted a,...a...tip. That was the word.
“Forgive me,..I’m not accustomed to the practices here. You’re expecting a TIP aren’t you ? I am very sorry but I haven’t any of your money just now.”
For a split second the boy looked dejected but the Waldorf training came through and he managed a smile.
“That’s all right, sir. I’m here every day.”
So, he expects me to give him something later on does he? Well we’ll see..
“Here let me give you this...” the doctor reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small rock crystal sphere set on a polished wooden base.
“See? These are the buildings of the Kremlin in Moscow.” The doctor held it up in the light just above eye level of the boy.
Inside the hollowed out rock was the silhouette of the buildings of the Kremlin, done in enamels with all the same brilliant colors. Around the miniature city the sphere was filled with glycerine and in it were tiny shards of mica. When tilted the shards exploded through the liquid and created a snowstorm over the buildings that swirled and swirled and very gently started to settle over the peaceful scene. The tiny jewel like mica caught the light and reflected it back at the viewer.
An item of great care and effort to create it had been the property of an aristocratic woman in St. Petersburg, a class enemy who was subsequently eliminated, and had passed into the hands of an Old Bolshevik who in turn was eliminated in the Purge of 1938. The doctor had taken it from the man’s personal effects after he had been shot.
“See how the snow traps the light?” he gave the crystal another shake, sending clouds of snow over the tiny city.
“I’ve never seen anything like that one before, sir.” The bellboy was staring at the crystal, transfixed by the whirling clouds of snow. The glycerine caused the snow to settle very slowly so that it went around and around the buildings, as if caught in great gusts of wind.
“It was given to me as a reward for years of service,” the doctor continued,"..but you know what?..it’s so easy to get lost in the snow. The clouds of snow flakes whirl around and around and each one sparkles. Look at them...” he commanded.
“See how each one catches the light, and shines it back to you?”
The boy’s mouth was slightly open. His breathing had visibly slowed, as he was drawn into the raging storm inside the tiny rock.
“It’s strange how easy it is to look at the snow but how hard to look at one snow flake, ...isn’t it ?”
The boy nodded his head without making a verbal response.
“It’s hard to look at one snow flake because they’re going around and around so fast,...it’s hard to find just one,...but so pretty to look at them all isn’t it ?”
Again the boy nodded, his oily head reflecting the light from the fixture above.
“And it is so relaxing to look at this scene isn’t it? Just like the real snow of the Kremlin...So relaxing,..so peaceful,...so gentle...watch the snow, Luis,..watch the snow,...and let it,.....carry you away....”
“Relax Luis,....the night in Moscow is so lovely,..and you’re so sleepy,..so relaxed,..and tired,....”
The boy’s thick eyelids were half covering his eyes now,...his breathing had slowed still more and his shoulder were slumped forward.
Deftly and quickly, the doctor reached forward with his left hand and unzipped the pants of Luis while still holding aloft the crystal in his right. From the pants out popped Luis’ erect 8 inches, ...uncut,...and surprisingly,...no underwear. The doctor marvelled at nature’s compensatory justice,..short in stature but long in dick.
“It’s so relaxing ....to watch the snow,.....isn’t it Luis ?......just letting it relax you,....taking you into the storm,..... And look very carefully Luis,......the doors of the Kremlin will soon be opening,......opening to let you in......”
As he spoke these words,...the doctor took hold of Luis’ right hand and moved it to the doctor’s own pants and had the boy unzip him,.....opening the doors to the Kremlin...
“Comrade Malenovsky....?”
Gently he pushed Luis’ hand through the open doors.
“Comrade Malenovsky are you in there ?...”
What was that sound ? Who was that? Whose voice is that he’d heard before,.? The doctor broke his gaze from the dazzled boy and faced the door with a look of panic and disbelief.
“Comrade Malenovsky, the front desk gave me a key to the room,..I must speak with you,...urgently !”
It’s true !! the doctor thought to himself,....Comrade Coitus Interruptus herself !! But how could this be !?! How could Nataly have followed him here ? To New York City ?
The key was turning in the door just as the doctor pulled the boy’s hand from his pants. The knob was turning as the doctor zipped himself up. He quickly dropped his right hand holding the rock crystal and in so doing broke the gaze and the hypnotic spell on the bellboy.
Luis blinked his eyes hard several times as in breezed Comrade Nataly,..still in her khaki uniform and spiky high heels.
“We won’t be needing any more of your services tonight.” she ordered the bellboy.
“No ma’am. thank you ma’am,..thank you sir.” Luis managed his rote response to orders received but it was only at the door that he noticed that his long and now flaccid dick was hanging outside his pants. Turning several shades of red, Luis placed his left hand over the cock while fumbling with the doorknob with his right. The doctor stepped forward to shield him from Nataly who had now turned and sat down on the sofa.
Luis made his hasty exit and began zipping himself while walking down the hall. He turned and looked back at the doctor.
“Sir ?”
“Yes?”
“Maybe later sometime,...you can show me the doors to the Kremlin again?” and flashed a very sweet smile....
The doctor turned and closed the door. He was not sure whether Nataly had seen Luis’ outstretched dick.. She wouldn’t have cared anyway.
“Comrade Malenovsky, we have much work to do.” Nataly was seated on the sofa and facing him wearing her most grave expression. The dishevelled appearance of her khaki dress suggested that she had come straight to the hotel from the airport.
“The toiling masses must be prepared for the mad dog attacks from the imperialist camp,” she began.
Indeed it had begun. Comrade Nataly had started her political lecture and must be attended to. There was no possibility to dissuade her from continuing. It would be dangerous even to try. The doctor sat down in front of her and assumed an expression of passive interest.
“Our inevitable victory in the Great Patriotic War for the Fatherland has only emboldened the forces working against us....” she went on.
He had perfected this facial expression after many years of listening to party cadres.
“The elimination of Kulaks as a class has been made possible by the vanguard role performed by the Party under the brilliant leadership of Comrade Stalin who..”
If he just stared at her,..looked deeply into her eyes,...she would go under,..and then he’d...
“..which caused the conditions necessary for the successful implementation of the five year plan in four years...”
How she could babble on,...reciting the same old cliches,...endless exaggerations,..and lies..
“...which of course is why Comrade Stalin has taken a personal interest in this case and is the reason I have come here today to....”
He was so sick of this whole thing,..what was that ? Did she say Comrade Stalin has taken a personal interest ? The doctor’s antennae had picked up the signals.
“Excuse me, Comrade Natalia Vladimirovna, did you say that Comrade Stalin has taken an interest...?”
“Comrade Malenovksy,..have you not been listening to what I have said ?” She was obviously cross and not understanding how he could look directly at her and not be listening. “Yes, Comrade Stalin has directed me, through the Commissar for Foreign Relations, Comrade Molotov, to inform you that you must proceed at once to recruit the intelligence asset I have just mentioned.”
“Comrade Natalia,..of course then it will be done,..” the doctor began rubbing his left wrist with his hand as he did when nervous.
“So, Comrade Malenovksy, ..what is your plan ?”
“My plan ?..oh yes,..my plan..."..the doctor had to think fast. He had only come here hoping to be able to perform the necessary conditioning on the dancer Micael-Oliver Vansandt, old code name Dimitri, that would allow Michael to be used for blackmail purposes against politicians or others,..nothing more.
“My plan will be revealed at the diplomatic reception this Saturday night.”
“I think you should take me into your confidence, Comrade Malenovsky. Perhaps I may be of some assistance..” These last words were made with a smile,..or was it a sneer ?
He was having none of that. She would not provide assistance as much as she would spying, second guessing, reporting back to Moscow. No,..if there would be failure, it could at least be postponed a while longer.
“I understand completely your desire to work with me for the defeat of the imperialist camp Comrade Natalia, however, I must move swiftly and your presence here at the United Nations is more urgent.”
Natalia raised her eyebrow. She was not entirely convinced.
“l was at this very minute about to leave to go to reestablish contact with my subject.”
A knock at the door caused both to turn to face the room service waiter who has just entered.
“Your champagne, sir.”
“There was obviously a mistake,..” the doctor stuttered, embarrassed. Nataly’s eyebrow arched higher.
THE APARTMENT
The doctor deicded to walk from the hotel on Park Avenue to Michael’s apartment. The time would give him the opportunity to think of a plan and its implementation. The cold helped him move quickly and he wasn’t long in getting to the brownstone apartment building at 623 E. 68th Street then undergoing renovation. He walked up to the main door and buzzed the apartment.
“Yes ?”
“Michael-Oliver VanSandt ! It’s me ! Doctor Malenovsky !
“Doctor Malenovsky ?!? From Moscow ? What are you doing here ?”
“I’ve arrived in New York for a conference,..please may I come up ?”
“Of course ! yes,.! sorry ,....”
Michael buzzed the door open and the doctor ascended to the apartment.
Michael was standing in the landing with the door open. He was wearing undershorts and a torn undershirt. His head appeared to have been freshly cropped. The doctor remembered the suggestion he had given Michael in Moscow that he would need to cut his hair before having sex.
“This is quite a surprise,” Michael began,..motioning for the doctor to enter.
He passed through the threshold and entered the small living room. There was evidence of two people having been there but no third person was in sight.
Not having received a response from the doctor explaining his unexpected presence Michael continued,..”
“What brings you out on this night when...”
The doctor whirled around holding up his right hand, palm stretched out in a ‘halt’ signal.
“Michael, I came here to tell you something,...”
The startling gesture caused a sudden stop in Michael’s words and train of thought, he didn’t respond to the doctor’s odd phrase.
“....The East Is Red.” The doctor intoned the phrase,...the magic words,..and upon hearing them, Michael’s eyes glazed over, became watery. His supple dancer’s body relaxed.
Quickly stepping up to him he spoke.
“You’re very tired,..sit down on the chair.”
“Yes sir.” Michael obediently sat down on the small chair and faced the doctor who sat down on the sofa.
The doctor had to consider his choices: Michael must be made to defect to the Soviet Union without destroying his mind. On the other hand, the level of hypnotic control gained thus far was not sufficient to cause him to defect. He had to find the key that would unlock his resistance.
Michael sat passively, the moonlight reflecting off his shaved scalp. Only one small light was on in the room. The doctor wondered idly who the other person was that caused Michael to shave his head.
What a project I’ve gotten myself into,... thought the doctor to himself.
“Well, there’s no reason not to enjoy your hospitality, my friend,” saying aloud this thought he reached over to the table and poured himself a small cognac. Taking advantage of the warmth of the room he then pulled off his tattered boots, the same ones he had worn since the old days fighting—Trotsky. Even though the light was dim it was able to reveal that the doctor’s feet lacked a certain level of personal hygiene as his socks had not been changed in some time. Through a hole in one of the socks erupted the doctor’s big toe on his right foot. Moreover, a certain smell was given off by the liberated feet and mixed in the warm air with bouquet of the cognac.
Sitting on the old sofa, considering his next move, it was out of the corner of his eye that he noticed that Michael had changed in appearance. Instead of the flat, passive countenance of the hypnotized sub, his face had a rush of color and a more lively expression. Though hypnotized it was obvious that something powerful had moved him, but what ? What random thought or stray variable had crossed his subject’s mind and caused this reaction ?
The doctor crossed his legs to further consider this new phenomenon and then noticed that Michael’s eyes had followed the doctor’s leg movement.
“That’s it !!” the doctor half shouted smiling to himself. “And not the legs,..but the feet ! My dear boy Michael has a powerful attraction to feet, and probably to smelly ones at that.” This was the advantage he had been looking for....
Holding forth his right foot,...the doctor extended his leg all the way toward Michael, clearly showing the soil darkened sock with the big toe sticking out.....sticking out like an erect dick.
“Michael, " commanded the doctor, “get down on your hands and knees.”
Michael slid from the chair with his face pointed up, looking expectantly at the doctor.
“You want my feet don’t you Michael ?” The doctor’s raised eyebrows and tone of voice indicated there was some doubt in the doctor’s own mind about the remarkable conclusion he had just reached.
Michael closed his eyes,..“yes sir,” he said in a small voice.
Smiling again the doctor continued, “Good boy, Michael. I want you to have this smelly foot of mine, but first you must prove you are worthy of it, do you understand ? You must prove to me that you can worship my feet.”
“yes sir. I want to be worthy.”
“Remove your shorts Michael.”
Without standing, Michael slid off his boxer shorts, pulling them carefully off his legs, then folding them and placing them on the chair behind him. He returned to his former position with his shaved head pointed in the direction of the doctor. Hanging down was his exposed dick, which by its size indicated a certain level of arousal.
“Get on your stomach, Michael, and crawl over to me like a baby !” The doctor’s voice was as much a snarl as a command.
Meekly, Michael lower himself further to the floor and with a swimming like motion of his arms and legs pulled himself across it. He arrived at the doctor’s feet atop an elegant old oriental rug,..a present to Michael from a sensitive elderly bachelor.
In a sure quick motion, the doctor reached down and flipped him over on his back. Then taking Michael’s his two hands he brought them up and over his head, tucking them under the sofa so that Michael could not move his arms.
“Your arms are locked in place, Michael, do you understand that ?”
“yes, sir.”
“Try as hard as you will you cannot move them until I tell you, do you understand ?”
“yes sir.”
Taking his left foot, the doctor slowly began to caress the peeled skull of Michael, feeling the hair stubble through his dirty sock. Michael began to moan softly. Then he took his right foot and held it just over Michael, at eye level where the big toe was clearly visible.
“Michael, I want you to come with me. Come back with me to Moscow. You can dance there.” The words were spoken calmly, no hint of command or threat. It wasn’t necessary yet, as this was just the opening gambit.
“sir, I have a contract to dance here..”
“Of course you have Michael,” the tone was patient, ....kindly,.... “..and that is why we have a way for you to cancel that contract. It’s a legal word called defection. If you ‘defect’, Michael, you won’t have to obey the contract, you’ll only have to obey me.”
Michael didn’t respond, his mouth was open and eyes were eagerly focused on the doctor’s foot.
“You like my toe don’t you Michael ? It’s shorter but fatter than a dick,..it’s harder too,...and more smelly than a dick,...and tastier too,...you WANT this foot don’t you Michael ?”
As he spoke these words, the doctor held Michael’s head firmly in place with his left foot.
“yes sir, I want your foot,.” saying this as he reached out to try to touch the foot with his tongue.
“Of course you do Michael, but first I’ll tell you a story, ...a very interesting few facts about our cozy life back in Russia...”
“yes sir.”
Settling back just a bit in the sofa but still with his foot on Michael’s head the doctor continued. “In the Corps de Ballet in Moscow there are straight boys, Michael. Cute straight boys who dance. I hypnotize them Michael,...just like I hypnotize you.”
As he began his tale, the doctor began to rub the side of Michael’s face with his right foot, all the while holding his head firmly in place with his left.
“I hypnotize them deeply Michael,...... they go deep for me just like you.”
Michael was trying to lick the doctor’s foot as it passed along the side of his face. His body was twitching and clearly he found it inconvenient not to be able to move his hands.
“you hypnotize the straight boys, sir.”
Michael repeated the doctor’s remark,...letting in sink in, clearly he enjoyed the idea.
“And then I take them to the Kremlin, Michael. There I make them dance for The Great Father of the Peoples himself. They dance for Comrade Stalin. I hypnotize my straight boys Michael, and then I make them dance for Stalin,....”
“And then he fucks them Michael,...the Great Stalin fucks my straight boys in the ass. You want that too don’t you Michael ? You want to be fucked by Comrade Stalin too don’t you ?”
“yes sir,..I want Comrade Stalin to fuck me...”
The doctor was taking a terrible risk here. Any personal information about Stalin was considered a state secret. To release any of that,...even to a hypnotized subject would result in the doctor’s death,..and that of his family as well.
“And he will Michael,...all you have to do is defect....” as the doctor spoke he was rubbing his big exposed toe against Michael’s nose,...letting him take in the smell. Below his stomach Michael’s dick had risen and was standing perpendicular to his body,...like a flagpole. His legs were moving back and forth on the floor in a scissors like motion as if this would help his mouth to get at the doctor’s feet.
“And after my straight boys are fucked by Stalin, Michael I take them to Comrade Molotov and my straight boys fuck Comrade Molotov. You’d like to do that for me wouldn’t you Michael ? You’d like to fuck Comrade Molotov ?
Michael moaned.
“And all my straight boys have Big,.. Smelly,.. Feet Michael,” the doctor slowed his words for emphasis. “They have big feet because they’re dancers. Not as good as you Michael, but their feet are always in need of a good licking. You’d want to lick my straight boys feet wouldn’t you Michael ?”
“Oh yes !!” Michael almost shouted.
The doctor was now rubbing both of his feet against Michael’s cheeks. He was salivating now, his tongue desperately trying to catch a taste of the doctor’s soiled socks and toes.
Pulling out Michael’s right hand from under the sofa the doctor formed it into a circle with thumb touching the middle finger. He then guided the hand down to Michael’s aching dick where he slipped the circle over the head of the penis and gently set the hand in motion like a piston.
Repositioning himself above Michael’s head he again placed his left foot on it, holding him in place while putting his right toe immediately under his nose.
“And then you know what Michael?...my straight boys PAY me when the session is over with Comrade Stalin. My straight boys pay me for the privilege of being fucked by the Great Stalin. You want to pay me to don’t you Michael ?” A hypnotist has to survive somehow, the doctor thought to himself. “You want to pay me to fuck Comrade Molotov ?”
“yes sir,..I’ll pay you anything ! " He was bucking on the floor now, trying to reach the toe, while his hand continued it’s automatic motion on his penis, but now at a furious pace.
“Then SAY it Michael,....say you’ll DEFECT,...and the straight boys will have their feet in your mouth....like this...!! ”
At that the doctor thrust his big toe into Michael’s mouth. His oral cavity was already filled with saliva that soon spilled over the side of his lips running down his face. The doctor thrust his toe back and forth in Michael’s open mouth like a dildo in a hot cunt.
“SAY it Michael !!,..say you’ll defect for my boys’ FEET !! say you’ll defect for STALIN !!”
He pulled out his toe from Michael’s mouth and grabbed his nose between his big and second toes and pinched hard.
“Say it Michael !! Say you’ll defect, and you’ll be completely under my control!!”
Michael cried out in pain and pleasure. His body convulsed, bouncing on the floor.
“Yes !, I defect !...I’ll do anything you say !!”
As he uttered those ecstatic words a stream of hot jizz shot out from the enraged penis,..pumping out several large spurts of yellow/white liquid over the elegant oriental rug, staining it like a dirty rain.
Michael sank back, moaning loudly,..almost crying,..the sound changing to a whimper as his dick spent itself and returned to a flaccid state.
The doctor held his toe over Michael’s mouth and let him lick on it contentedly,...a much sought after reward for the defection he had just agreed to.
“Relax, Michael,....let yourself feel my power to relax you.....You have done well,..and I am pleased,....so now you can rest.....relax,...take a deep breath and let go...”
Michael inhaled deeply then sighed and seemed to drift off. His right arm laying limply at his side while his left was still securely held under the sofa. His face went blank and he sank back into a deeper level of hypnosis.
Suddenly the doctor had a feeling of being watched. Turning quickly around in the sofa he looked squarely into the face of John Braley Davenport, code named Ivan, the man who accompanied Michael to Moscow.
“So you’re the other man ! " the doctor acidly remarked. The look of surprise and astonishment at being observed was instantly replaced by delight at seeing John again, and then by anger and jealousy that JOHN was here as the other man with Michael.
“How long have you been standing there ?” Demanded the doctor.
“Long enough for me to know who you are and what you are ........but I think I should ask YOU what are YOU doing to my lover ?” John’s tone was defiant but with a hint of fear.
“Lover ! " Exploded the doctor. " You don’t love this ‘boy’.....he’s at least ten years younger than you!” Rising from the sofa he turned to face John. Michael remained where he lay on the floor.....deeply in trance and unaware of the confrontation. John was wearing blue boxer shorts only, his hairy chest was moving regularly with his heavy breathing, indicating his level of alarm.
“What are you talking about age !!!.......you’re a SPY !!..a COMMUNIST SPY !!!! John spat out the words. He had taken in most of the preceding events and had gone under briefly during the episode and so had remained quiet throughout most of the session, though he still took it all in. The doctor suspected as much.
“What makes you think you can just put people under a spell ?” John’s tone was angry and accusatory.
“ A spell ?!?” The doctor mocked sarcastically, trying not to laugh. “This is not voodoo and I am not a witch doctor.”
“What makes you think you can just, ...just,...do these kinds of things to people ?” John demanded to know taking a step backward toward the bedroon.
The doctor paused before he spoke, “I do.... what I have to do..... in order to survive in a world that would otherwise crush me,...I do this because you want this and because you need this,...”
There was a look of surprise in John’s face,..a look of self recognition that he hadn’t experienced before. He turned and went into the bedroom and started gathering his clothes. The doctor followed.
There, the moon’s bright light was spilling in through the curtainless window. John was standing in front of it and the light revealed a much more hard muscled body than the doctor had suspected.
“It’s just that,...” John continued in a lower voice,..” I don’t know what you want from me. And I.....”
“What I want from you,.” the doctor interrupted, without breaking his gaze at John, " is ...your complete... and total... submission to me.” The words were spoken slowly,..almost like a chant or an incantation and in a low voice. He had raised his left hand close to his face with the fingers pointed almost straight at John. It was as if he were using the hand to guide his eyes directly into his subject. The effect was unsettling. The doctor’s words were both arousing to John and menacing.. His heart was pounding in his chest. He turned to the bureau near him and opened a drawer where Michael kept a prop pistol once used in a play. He rummaged around in it as much to conceal his trembling hand as to find the gun. Maybe he could scare the doctor into believing it was real.
The doctor continued,..“And I will take you ...back with me ,...back to Moscow,...where you will serve,...and obey,...as I choose.”
John spun around. He had not found the gun. His entire body was tense and prepared should he decide to fight the doctor.
“I”M not going anywhere with you,..!” John shouted. “I’m an American !”
“You’ll do...as you,...are told... " The doctor’s words were quieter now, softly spoken, soothing. He was concentrating all his attention on John, staring into him. John had backed up a few feet toward the window but was now looking into the doctor’s eyes.
The doctor continued.."...Because I now control your body,...and I control your dick,...and soon I will control your mind.”
What nerve ! What gall! thought John. The doctor’s words brought back a rush of anger that was soon evident on his face even though he had taken no overt move to express that anger.
“And you’ll soon,....be aware...of my control,.....because now ....your right arm ....and your dick....are starting to rise up,...into the air...These words were spoken a bit more loudly than the others had been and with a greater tone of command and self assurance.
John’s expression turned from anger to bafflement to amusement. He had thought he would have to fight the doctor here in this room, but now the doctor had descended into melodrama. But the amused look turned to one of surprise,...because slowly,... inexorably,...he found,...that his right arm was starting to twitch,...to move,...to feel lighter than it had been. Where a moment before, John was prepared to use the arm to reach for a gun,..he now found that all feeling was draining out of the arm and with it was going his ability to influence its direction and movement. At the same time he could feel himself start to get hard.
“You’ll never get away with this !” John sputtered, hoping that his defiance in the face of a deteriorating situation would at least give him time. Time to think of a way to negotiate or plan an escape. “All my relatives will know that I’ve disappeared,...and,..”
“And as your arm rises, it becomes lighter and lighter,...and your cock harder and harder,...” The doctor was paying no attention to John’s exclamations. For him, they were nothing more than the babbling of a cornered prey.
The dickhead was peeking out from the flap in John’s shorts and his arm was about level with his eyes.
“Why are you doing this to me ?!?” John shouted.
“And now I will start to count to ten,” the doctor began. “And as I count,..your arm will become more relaxed and start to float down. And as it comes down your whole body will relax,...you won’t want to talk anymore, and you’ll start feeling sleepy,...tired,...relaxed.. But your dick will become more hard and rigid.
“One.....
This was ridiculous,..John thought to himself....
“Feeling the arm start to change from light to heavy...”
“Two,.......
“Finding that it now has started to go down...”
I’m not going to go through with this,...I’ve got to find a way to fight him...
Already John’s mouth had been silenced,..the words continuing in a monologue heard only in his own head.
“Three,....
“Downward you go, in a spiral of relaxation and calm,....taking you to a place,....”
“Four.....”
“You most want to be,..”
“Five,.....
John’s arm was at the level of his nipples, the dick now shining through the door of his shorts.
“Six,....
The doctor’s instructions continued,..“And when your hand descends completely it will come to rest on your extended dick.”
“Seven,.....
I should compromise,..John thought to himself,...maybe if,...just play along,.. pretend,...he won’t notice...if I jus wsn so tirde
But it was becomming hard for John to plan now,....difficult to think of ways to foil the doctor’s plot.
“Eight,....
The doctor’s intonation was perfect. The speed of his speech completely matched the rate of fall of John’s arm.
“Nine,....
John’s hand was now hovering over the outstretched, straining penis. His eyes had a glassed over dull look to them. He was yielding.
“Ten,...
At this word,. John’s hand came to rest on top of and lightly grip his erect cock, thus fulfilling the doctor’s commands and surrendering himself once again into the doctor’s control. His head fell slightly forward and to the right.
The doctor’s eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of his sleeping subject standing silently in the moonlight, hand on an erect cock. His prey had yielded,...he felt triumphant, and aroused.
Quickly shedding his own clothes, the doctor stepped up to John. Taking a handful of John’s hair with his right hand the doctor pulled his head up and towards the doctor’s lips. With his left hand the doctor grasped John’s thickly muscled shoulder and drew him close to himself, each of his fingers making an indentation in John’s flesh.
Stalin will never get this prize, the doctor thought to himself,..he belongs to me,... and then pressed his own lips against John’s.
At the embrace of the doctor, John had released his hand from his dick which now pressed against the doctor’s lower abdomen. In turn, the doctor’s own aroused member pressed against the lower abdomen of John. In fact they were now exhibiting the five Touching Points, one of the classic poses of the Kama Sutra: lips touching,..breast to breast,.penis touching partner,...knees,...and feet.
If at this point, the doctor had asked John to abandon his home and come with him, John would have done so. If the doctor had asked anything of John he would have willingly complied, for it was at this moment that the doctor’s control was complete. Total. Absolute. Under these conditions, John had lost the Power to Resist. For him there was no thought, no feeling, but what the doctor put there. Oblivion.
How long did they hold this pose ? That can’t really be answered because no one was looking at a clock,...time was better expressed by the movement of the moon. When they embraced, the moon was shining on the chair by the bureau. When the moon had moved to the bureau, John was sucking on the doctor’s nipples. And when the moon was reflecting in the mirror over the bureau, John was on his knees before the doctor receiving the full measure of the doctor’s manhood. On his knees before his master.
John would have done anything at that point if only he were asked. But the doctor never asked the question,..issued the command. The doctor too had been caught up in the hypnosis of the evening.
They were standing again, the doctor’s hands entwined in John’s hair holding his head to his nipples, which John was again licking.
“I’ll take you to Moscow in a few days,.” the doctor began, as much talking to himself as to John. “I have a dacha where you can stay.”
“But,..”
The doctor’s eyes shot open. " ‘But’ ?” what was this ‘but’ that John had just uttered ?
“...will Michael be there also ?"....yes, the question came out of John’s mouth, though the doctor could not believe it.
There was a crack in the foundation the doctor had created. Something of the old John had slipped through. A part of his attachment to Michael was showing. Control, it appeared, was less than complete. How could John prefer that witless dancer to himself the doctor angrily wondered. And how could he have dared to ask me such a question ....? It wasn’t worthy of a response. But the doctor knew the spell had been broken in some unknown way. He leaned back and looked at John. Still apparently sleeping peacefully, his arms wrapped around the doctor, he presented the perfect appearance of a dominated subject. The doctor knew better.
Pulling away from his subject he considered his subject in a completely different light. Not the moon anymore, but something more harsh and glaring.
John was standing at rest, his head to one side, hair tousled, his flaccid spent penis hanging peacefully.
“Put your clothes on,” he called out to John in a stern voice. Go down to the lobby and wait for me there.”
“yes sir.”
The doctor thought ...that this would take different measures,...the wind has changed direction and he would have to change his sail,...if he couldn’t have John,..nobody could.....”
THE TREATMENT
John was put in a waiting car and driven to the consulate office in lower Manhattan. There he was taken into the interior of the suite of offices, to one of the “safe”rooms which had been specially sound proofed and stocked with all the necessary forms of persuasion the KGB enjoyed at home. In fact the room was staffed with KGB goons who were the only ones allowed into them, other employees of the consulate were strictly forbidden entrance. The room was fairly small and had the appearance of a medical examination room in a doctor’s office. Instead of an examining table there was a large reclining chair similar to that of a dentist. John, still under the influence of the doctor was told by one of the goons to strip off his clothes and get into the chair. Carefully John reomved the blue silk tie, white shirt, and dark gray suit he had just put back on in the apartment, folding the clothes and laying them on a nearby table. In only his white undershorts John climbed into the cahir and his arms and legs were soon fastened onto it with leather straps. A further leather thong was placed around John’s chest holding his body tightly against the back of the chair. The taut strap pulled into John’s chest, further accenting his pecortral muscles. The doctor walked in carrying a large black leather medical bag. He brushed the clothes off the table to the floor, then turning the bag upside down emptied its contents onto the small table and started rummaging through the articles. The bag contained a treasure of new drugs, drug samples, and formulas for drugs recently stolen from pharmaceutical companies in the West. He and his collegues had not yet had the chance to examine and test these drugs on political prisoners and prisoners of war still being held in Russia. Add to that was the somewhat confusing labelling and directions that were all printed in English, which the doctor sometimes had difficulty reading.
Well,...I’ll just have to see whatever results I can get,.. he thought to himself. Passing up a bottle of the new phenobarbitol he instead settled on a small vial of sodium amytol. A plentiful supply of these vials had been stolen so it made sense to use them he concluded. The doctor walked over to John and adjusted the overhead light so that it was shining only on him. He next reached out with his right hand and pulled John’s head back by his hair, repeating to himself the promise he had made at the apartment,...that if he couldn’t have John,......no one else could either.
“John, at the count of three you will awaken.” The doctor’s command was simple and abrupt.
“One, two, three.” Releasing the hair at the three count, John’s eyes snapped open.
“Wha ?....where is this ?....what’s going on ?” John quickly recognized the power of the restraints binding him as he struggled.
“You’re safe here John, " began the doctor soothingly.
John looked up and tried to squint through the light, continuing his struggle against the restraints.
“What am I doing here ?” He demanded. “You have no right to detain me !!” he almost thundered rocking his chair from side to side. The two KGB goons in the room tensed,...positioning themselves for any possibility. The doctor reached out with his left hand and grabbed John’s chin, squeezing his cheeks together and bringing his own face down almost even with John’s. He looked directly into his eyes.
“I have,...the right,.....” Began the doctor in a low even tone, “....to do to you...anything that is necessary for me to accomplish my purposes. Because as I said, from the first time we met....your body,...and your mind,....and your dick are MY property and will respond to me at my command !”
John moved his head, trying to pull out of the doctor’s grasp but could not. The doctor held on, allowing the impact of his words to have an effect.
He was not long waiting. The finality of the doctor’s statements and the uselessness of his struggle to free himself caused a shudder in John’s body. The coldness of his fear caused his pupils to dilate and remarkably a certain tenting in his shorts had begun.
“ I’ve tried the easy way to bring you around, " continued the doctor in a more relaxed tone, releasing John’s face, “..but that won’t work,..at least not in the time I have available, so we’ll have to try something else.”
Taking a vial of sodium amytol in his left hand he held it up to the light and inserted the syringe, withdrawing what appeared to be a well considered dosage. In fact, the doctor had no idea how much drug to administer
“I’m going to tell you now who you are and what you are about.” The tone was formal and distant.
“Your name is Ivanna,....the purpose of your life is to obey me,.......the only thing you love is sex.”
John’s eyes narrowed, he turned his head and looked at the doctor with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
“You’re out of your mind !!” He screamed as again he struggled against the cords holding him fast to the chair.
Not bothering to sterilize the skin first the doctor quickly brought down the syringe to a waiting vein. This was easy as the restraints had brought up and exposed numerous veins in John’s arms.
“Now Ivanna,.......I want you just to relax,...” The doctor was surprised at how quickly the drug took effect. John had started acting bizzarely, whistling. “Try not to fight the drug,...”
But John had to fight the drug,....he tried staring at the tiles on the ceiling,....moving his head from side to side,......whistling,......doing anything that was still within his power that would help him to concentrate his mind and attention,....anything that would keep him awake....had to stay awake,.....had to st...
Like a large wave coming over a person standing on the beach....the effect of the drug made its presence felt in John. It was warm,.....it was relaxing,....and.....it could not be stopped. John’s eyelids fluttered, then closed. His head fell forward slightly and he stopped struggling. Breathing became more deep and regular. And the tenting in his shorts continued.
“We’re going to do some exercises now,” the doctor began. “Your name is Ivanna,.......the purpose of your life is to obey me,.....the only pleasure you have is sex. Repeat that now for me.”
John started slowly,...slurring his words,...“My nam s Ivn,....my purs t obey...I only lv sex.”
“You will have to repeat this Ivanna,....until you know it perfectly,......until you recite it perfectly,.....until you believe it.” The doctor knew what that meant but had to continue now. He signaled to one of the KGB goons who took up the doctor’s post. Sitting on a high stool the agent began where the doctor left off.
“Your name is Ivanna,.......your purpose in life is to obey the doctor,.....the only pleasure you have is sex.” He repeated the phrases then put them to him as questions: “What is your name ?.......
And so the process started. The doctor left the room for a smoke. Thinking to himself,..the whole procedure would probably take 24-48 hours. He had to make sure that John/Ivanna would be ready for the diplomatic reception in three days. Stepping back into the room he observed the question/response session was continuing as he had instructed. Not wanting to have the session interrupted for the least reason he took a long rubber tube with his right hand and with his left grabbed hold of Ivanna’s semi erect penis and inserted the tube as a catheter. Ivanna flinched as the procedure was completed. Job done, the doctor put the other end of the tube into an empty coke bottle and thereby was able to drain away the urine that may otherwise cause a distraction to the serious business at hand. The effect of the rubber tube in her dick caused the penis to stiffen and hold itself out. It seemed to straighten itself each time Ivanna repeated the part about deriving pleasure from sex. Subsequent injections did nothing to reduce the erection. And there were many subsequent injections. Since the doctor did not have access to an IV drip, he had to inject into a different part of the arm each time. In the course of the “treatment” Ivanna’s arm was covered in the track marks giving witness to a repeated drug use. Treatment continued through the night. And into the next day.....and night. Food was not allowed as this would only stimulate the urge to defecate for which there was not time. Water was allowed and the catheter coke bottle was emptied several times,....filled with Ivanna’s piss.
“Your name is Ivanna,..........your only purpose in life is to obey the doctor,......your only pleasure is sex.”
Like grains of sand falling into a bucket, the phrases were dropped into Ivanna’s head without variation and with the certainty that the vessel of his mind would eventually be filled and the correct response believed by Ivanna. Teams of KGB agents were set up and changed at four hour intervals. At the 24th hour the procedure was halted and Ivanna was allowed to sleep for four hours,...in his chair jail. The doctor didn’t know what the cumulative effect of the drug would be and wanted some small break in order for the liver to clean her system. As the treatment continued Ivanna became more valuable due to the investment of the time and effort and the doctor was increasingly concerned lest something bad happened. At the start of the 25th hour treatment continued:
“What is your name ?”
“Ivanna.”
“What is your purpose in life?”
“To obey the doctor.”
“What is your only pleasure ?”
“Sex.”
The responses were becomming more automatic now. Crisper, ...less slurring in spite of the continued injections. There was now variation in the questionning:
“Who are you ?”
“I am Ivanna.”
“What are you doing here ?”
“Anything the doctor wants me to do.”
“Why is that ?”
“The purpose of my life is to obey the doctor.”
“Don’t you have any fun ?”
“The only pleasure in my life is sex.”
The new identity was starting to take shape. It was not clear the extent to which the old one had been destroyed, and the doctor thought that parts of the old personality would linger on. But there was no doubting after 36 hours Ivanna had undergone a radical transformation. There would be no turning back. At this point suggestions were given to help complete a plausible biography that Ivanna could latch on to and so not become confused when questions would come up in conversations later on. At the end of 48 hours the doctor pulled the catheter out of Ivanna’s dick and she was removed from the chair. Taken to a bedroom, she was allowed to sleep for the next 12 hours.
The transformation to Ivanna would not have been complete without an outward transformation as well. The hair, musculature, and clothes would not convince anyone that the dramatic change had occurred. Unfortunately, there was no time to enlist the services of anyone in New York who could assist with the kind of change that was required. Instead, the younger Zbarsky of the Lenin Mausoleum Laboratory had been smuggled into the country with a trunk of his chemicals and paints. Zbarsky was part of the family whose job it was to keep the corpse of V.I. Lenin preserved and presentable as a realistic human figure. His assignment in New York was to ensure that Ivanna’s exterior revealed something of the transformation that had occurred on the interior. And he had less than one day to do it.
THE RECEPTION
The opening term of the General Assembly of the United Nations is always accompanied by a series of diplomatic receptions and parties. These soirees are used to acquaint the delegates with each other and to conduct business on a quasi official level. The host country for the reception to be held at the Waldorf this Saturday evening was to be the Soviet Union. The occasion was formal but did not mean that Soviet diplomats were permitted formal attire. A badly cut suit was good enough for the representatives of the workers paradise. The doctor turned up in the same rumpled brown suit he had worn on arrival in New York. The only change was the addition of a few new gravy stains. KGB goons were an exception to this rule as they were disguised as waiters. Accompanying the doctor was Michael. As he was not a Soviet citizen, not yet,..there was no restriction on his clothes. In fact he looked quite elegant in his evening cutaway, tall, thin, with his freshly shaved head. He was not hypnotized but the doctor had given him several triggers for use that evening and in the meantime kept him under control. He had also placed one of his own dirty socks around Michael’s cock. The knowledge that this dirty rag was surrounding his dick served to keep Michael in a continual state of sexual arousal. Each movement, turn, and twist of his body would send a signal to Michael’s brain that the doctor was with him and that he was under control. The effect of his arousal plus the presence of the sock made it all but obvious that there was something serious was going on down there.....if anyone looked.
“How do you do ? I am Sir Percival Witherspoon, the Charge d’Affairs of the British Embassy in Washington.”
“Doctor Pytor Alexandrovich Malenovsky.”
“And who is this young man with you who looks so familiar ?” The diplomat, a sensitive elderly bachelor looked at Michael with more than passing interest. Before Michael could reply the doctor spoke up:
“This is Michael-Oliver VanSandt of the New York City Ballet.”
“Of course, of course,...I thought I had seen your picture before,...only,..at that time you had hair,...” The man was trying to be polite and not stare but was not doing so very successfully.
“Is this your first time to a Soviet diplomatic reception ?”
“yes it is.” Replied Michael in a tone mixed between a dream and a monotone. “I am very excited to be here.”
Without missing a beat the diplomat looked down to Michael’s crotch and responded:
“Evidently you are,...” And excused himself to greet someone more important.
The doctor was about to say something to Michael,..to get him to do something about the bulge in his crotch, but as he turned in walked a KGB goon escorting Ivanna. She was dressed in a tourquoise evening gown with a lace shawl. Something had been added to give the appearance of a bust and Ivanna was wearing a reddish brown wig that was not much longer than her hair had been before. As to her makeup, Comrade Zbarsky of the Lenin Mausoleum Laboratory had done his best. However, as he was more adept with non-living subjects Ivanna more resembled a dead woman than a live one. Still, the heaviness of the makeup application served to distract a viewer from what might otherwise be masculine cues. Add to that the usual supply of vodka and it wasn’t long before most of the invitees wouldn’t be able to focus on any particular guest. Ivanna spotted the doctor and rushed over to him.
“Oh doctor, I’m so glad to see you !“she gushed.
“Ivanna it is I who have the pleasure,...you are most welcome here.” He took Ivanna’s large hand and kissed it—a most un-Soviet courtesy.
“And who might this be ?”
All turned to face Nataly standing before them with arched eyebrow, waiting for an answer. She had managed to find an appropriately wrinkled black suit approximately one half size too small for her. The spikey heels were her permanent fixture.
“Ah Comrade Natalia, allow me to introduce my protégé, Miss Ivanna.” Ivanna had surrendered the arm of the KGB goon for that of the doctor who now pried it off him long enough to get her to shake hands with Nataly. After the greeting her hand went back to the doctor’s arm and clutched it tightly.
“I am pleased to meet you Comrade Ivanna,".....began Nataly,..."...and I do hope that you will become a comrade as the doctor has told me that you will be going to Moscow very shortly.
“I’m happy to do anything the doctor tells me,” came the soft reply spoken through clenched teeth and jaw.
“You’re very pretty my dear,” enthused Nataly. “Perhaps in Moscow I can show you the Kremlin, it’s very beautiful, the doors to which are particularly lovely.”
“The doctor has already shown me the doors to the Kremlin.”
“But I thought you had never been to Russia ?”
“Never mind Ivanna, go bring us some champagne,” the doctor ordered.
“Yes doctor.”
“Comrade Natalia, this is Michael VanSandt.” The doctor brought forward
Michael who had been standing behind staring into the middle distance.
“Oh yes,....the dancer,” was Nataly’s response in a flat tone. They shook hands perfuntorily and after glancing at him from head to toe turned to the doctor and talked about Michael as if he weren’t there.
“Why does he shave his head ? It makes him stand out too much.” There was a tone of reproach in her voice. Could it be that she was preparing a line of attack should the evening come off unsuccessfully ? Preparing to save herself by saying ‘I told you so’? And what about the bulge in his crotch ? How could she not have noticed that ? She wouldn’t have cared anyway....
“It’s just something he’s started recently,” replied the doctor, “..he said it helps him to relieve tension.”
“Hmmmmm, he and you have an important task to be fulfilled tonight”she reminded him.
At that Ivanna walked up with two glasses of champagne which she gave to the doctor and Nataly. Smiling sweetly at Nataly, Ivanna resumed her perch on the doctor’s arm.
Nataly continued, “I’ve heard the senator’s just arrived. Everything has to go perfectly.”
“Not to fear Comrade, everything and everyone is under my comlete control.” The doctor’s tone was confident but spoken with an effort to convince himself as much as anyone else.
The noise in the room was rising as it filled with people and the people in turn were filled with the vodka, champagne, caviar and other delicacies laid out. Occasionally someone would say something to Michael but as the doctor could not be at his side constantly to direct his responses and as Michael had been programmed not to respond without the doctor, he gave the appearance more of a statue than of a guest at a party. It should also be said there was no hint of recognition by either Michael or Ivanna for each other. As the crowd grew the doctor became nervous: enough people had to be there as witnesses but too many could keep him from his task.
Just then there was another noise in the background. The American delegation had arrived. Straining his neck he could make out the usual gathering of sensitive young men from the American State Department, but no Eleanor Roosevelt. Instead, a group of American Congressmen had fanned out across the room. Spying his target he put an arm behind each of his two conditioned subjects and started to wind his way through the crowd. Trying very hard, he was able to position himself and his boys in such a way that their encounter would appear to be accidental.
“Ah Senator nice to see you here ! Thank you for coming to our little gathering.” The doctor was his most charming self. The Senator squinted back at him,...hold his vodka glass up to his lips, obviously trying to think if he knew the man or not.
“I am Pytor Alexandrovich Malenovsky. I think we met in Europe during the war. I was an attending physician to the Soviet Ambassador when we had the reception for the American pilots in London.”
“Of course, how are you ?” The Senator’s face eased. The lie had worked. So many people were at that reception it would have been impossible to remember any one person. But just saying he had been there gave the doctor an opening. The Senator turned to Michael who had just stepped up and was staring at the senator.
“Senator, " continued the doctor, “I’d like to introduce Mr. Michael-Oliver VanSandt of the New York City Ballet.”
“Ballet ?” The senator’s eyebrows raised.
“Yes,” answered the doctor. “Michael I’d like you to meet Senator Joseph McCarthy of the great State of Wisconsin.” He pronounced the state’s name as Visconsin. The two shook hands.
“Ballet huh?” Continued the senator. “...don’t really care for ballet,....too queer for me.”
“And this charming young woman I just met is Miss Ivanna.” The doctor turned to Johnna who offered her hand to the senator.
“A pleasure to meet you,” the senator said smiling. " Do you like ballet Miss Ivanna ?”
“My only pleasure is sex,” came the swift reply.
The senator’s eyes grew wide then narrowed and he burst out laughing, spilling some of his vodka down his chest. The doctor seemed to be embarrassed,...or was he pretending to be embarrassed ? Michael stood by impassively, mute.
“Uh, tell me senator,” interrupted the doctor. “Is it true what they say is your nickname from the war ?”
Smiling at the opportunity to brag on himself Senator McCarthy offered, “Yes, I was on a bomber plane,...not as a pilot,....I worked the machine gun in the rear of the plane to fight off Germans attacking from behind. My nickname was Tailgunner Joe !”
Ivanna squeeled at the suggestiveness of the nickname and released the doctor’s arm for the senator’s who seemed delighted to accept it.
Using this interlude as his appropriate time the doctor stepped in front of Michael and discreetly put his right hand behind him. Reaching,..he felt for Michael’s bulging cock and grabbing it gave a not so subtle squeeze to it. This was it. This was the physical trigger for which Michael had been programmed.
“Senator McCarthy !” Michael almost shouted above the din of the room. The senator and Ivanna turned to look at him.
“I am here to inform you that I have decided on my own free will to return to the workers paradise of the Soviet Union where I can dance in complete freedom and so I renounce my American citizenship.”
“What the fuck are you talking about ?” The senator looked dazed and confused, turning his head alternately between the doctor and Michael.
“He put you up to this didn’t he ?” The senator demanded of Michael while pointing at the doctor.
“What ?!?..” The doctor had not prepared to be implicated. And Michael had not been programmed to respond to any questions.
“I am here to inform you that I have decided on my own free will,...” He started the litany again.
The senator drew a dour face. " I’m getting outta here!” He said and started to turn around. Ivanna was still clinging to his arm.
“Can you give me a lift back to my hotel?” There was a pleading though sultry quality to Ivanna’s request.
“C’mon!” The senator snapped and the two of them made their way through the crowd and out the door. The doctor sighed from relief. The plan was working. It didn’t matter whether they ended up at the hotel room set up for Ivanna or at the senator’s suite. KGB goon squads with their cameras had staked out both places.
“Come along Michael, " the doctor called out, " ..you’ve got packing to do. Mustn’t keep Comrade Stalin waiting.
“No sir.”
The doctor took hold of Michael by his erect dick and led him out of the room.