Synopsis: Belle is forced to say and do demeaning things to get her kidnapper to let her go, resisting at first she finally gives to make things end. However, the kidnapper reveals that our minds tend to fill in gaps of memory and uses hypnosis to make Belle forget everything that happened that night except the words and actions she was forced to say and take. How will Belle’s mind fill in these gaps?
Authors Notes: Sorry to everyone whose been so supportive for this long gap between story releases. My computer issues never seem to end, and life just continues to leave me less and less time for writing or fighting with an old computer to make it work. This is another old story I recently decided to clean up a bit, as always, if at least one person enjoys it, it will make the stress of releasing this into the wild worth it, so if you enjoy this story, please let me know and thank you so much to all who have done so in the past. You can reach me at: pavlovsbelle@outlook.com
Filling Gaps
I wished my friends a safe ride home as they pulled away in the uber we’d all pitched in on after a wonderful girls night out of light drinking and lots of laughing at a local pub. I loved my girls’ nights out, but as I stumbled my way to my front door, the thought occurred to me that knowing that my wonderful loving husband Jim was some where on the other end waiting for me was what truly made these nights perfect. He was my rock that made me feel free to let loose like this every once in a while.
I was still lost in that wonderful thought when I was startled by the feeling of some one from behind me putting a cloth over my mouth and, after a few muffled moments of struggle, the world went black...
I awoke to find myself tied to a heavy metal chair, in a dimly lit room, staring up at a man I hadn’t seen in years, and had hoped I’d never see again.
“Long time no see Belle,” came the casual reply of Ronald Boomenshire, a chubby, relatively young, and ever so slightly showing the early signs of balding, man in an ugly suit who’d once been in the same psychology program in college as I had, but had dropped out some where along the way.
“What the hell is this, Ronald!?” I demanded as I struggled seemingly futilely against my restraints.
“This is a long over due opportunity for you to apologize,” responded Ronald with a smug look on his face.
“A...apologize!? Are you kidding? For what, that school presentation? Why the hell would I apologize?” I responded, having a pretty good idea what he was asking for an apology for, but being caught in disbelief that he felt he deserved one.
“You humiliated me in front of everyone! Aren’t you even a little sorry for that?” asked Ronald, the smugness replaced what appeared to be a mixture of shock and rage. Those were feelings I could related with at that moment.
“You can’t be serious!?” I responded, taken aback that he apparently truly felt that HE was the victim. “You tried to use hypnosis to rape me during our last practice session!”
“I asked you to disrobe, and then you came out of the trance, that hardly constitutes rape,” responded Ronald. “And you yourself told me many times that you couldn’t be made to do anything in hypnosis you would not agree to if awake, so there was never any danger, either you wouldn’t mind disrobing and would do it, or you would mind and would come out of the trance just like you did.”
“Disrobe!? You tried to force me to believe I was a nympho cock sucker who was addicted to your cock, before demanding I immediately tear off all my clothes, drop to my knees, and deep throat you!” I clarified still half at a loss, half enraged.
“And again, if you weren’t okay with that suggestion, it wasn’t going to work, so no harm no foul. But if that just happened to be a suggestion you could get behind, well I’d say we’d have all appreciated the result,” defended Ronald. “Regardless, again, as you made sure to make very apparent to the entire class by refusing to do anything I asked of you during our big class presentation the next day, you knew you couldn’t be made to do anything you didn’t want to, so there was never any threat to you by me making the suggestion. Conversely, because of your stunt, no one took me seriously as a hypnotherapist after that. You sabotaged my career and credibility, neither of which have recovered to this day.”
Maybe if I wasn’t tied to a chair I might have felt a little remorse for the guy, but as that was my predicament and as far as I could tell he was the source of it, I instead found myself rolling my eyes. Perhaps the saddest part, and the part I was struggling to believe, was that it seemed he really thought one bad presentation is what had thrown his entire school path off track. What really sunk him was that I’d later told my husband, then just boyfriend, Jim about what Ronald had tried to make me do in our private session and Jim had taken it upon himself to make sure every teacher on campus knew every disgusting detail. THAT is what made him suddenly the campus untouchable. And for that, I was certainly not sorry, as I was the victim.
After a few awkward moments of silence while Ronald seemed to be trying to determine if I was even considering apologizing, he finally at last spoke again.
“Well clearly you feel no remorse. If you’d just apologized I’d have already let you go and I’d be out of your life forever, but if I’m being honest, I was hoping this is how thing would go. I was hoping you’d help me justify what is to come next,” announced Ronald in an uncharacteristically serious tone before leaning in uncomfortable close to my face.
“Wink at me,” demanded Ronald, his pungent breath nauseating me in the process. “Right now, wink at me.”
“Like hell I’m going to do anything you ask me to do!” I screamed.
“Then I guess we’ll pick this up again in a half hour,” said Ronald before walking away and closing the large metal door behind him.
I had no sense of time in the darkness, but after what felt like much longer then 30 minutes, my captor returned, this time dressed in a completely different suit, though one no less ill-suited for his pudgy frame.
“Lets try this again, wink at me,” demanded Ronald, not wasting a moment on pleasantries. “While not as fast as if you’d just apologized, if you do what I say this will still all be over relatively quickly. Conversely, continue to resist and I am prepared to allow this to go on for weeks, months, even years if need be.”
My first instinct was to remain stubborn, but from the creepy overly serious look in Ronald’s eyes I could tell he meant what he said, if I didn’t play along, I’d either be rescued, or spend the rest of my life here. I wanted to put my hopes in a rescue, but I’d seen far too many face’s on Missing Person signs of people who were never found, or at least never found alive again, so I had to acknowledge that if I didn’t play along there was a real possibility I would die here. So, begrudgingly done though it were, I winked.
“No no no, do it seductively, like you’re trying to get my attention, trying to flirt with me from across the room,” demanded Ronald.
I let out a groan, but after taking a moment to reconfirm that I had no other prospects for escape at the moment, I complied, doing my best job to convey “Hey baby, you like what you see, cause I do” with a wink.
All at once the room flashed white to red to white again, disorienting me. That took me back, he’d demonstrated the lights to me prior to our private hypnosis session. He’d brought them to the session, and after he’d had me in the trance, had even discussed how he had planned to use them once my trance was deeper, but we’d never reached a point when he actually could use them due to... his unfortunate choice of suggestions. Now that I’d experienced it in a dimly lit room I counted by blessings that we hadn’t gotten far enough for him to use them before, it was really obnoxious. Still, the question was, what was the point of using them now? Was he planning to try to hypnotize me? Even if so, they were just meant to be a trigger for use after I was out of the trance, using them on me now would do nothing but annoy me. Although, maybe that WAS the plan...
“Well done!” declared Ronald, letting go of some button in his hand that apparently controlled the annoying light. “As compensation, have a drink!”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I replied, eying the glass suspiciously.
“Lets be clear, with your being strapped to that chair I’ve got plenty of ways of poisoning that you would be unable to prevent if that was my intent. Thus, I assure you, right now that is not my intent, this beverage is safe to drink. Still, if you don’t want it, that’s fine too, we will simply move on,” replied Ronald. “Now, smile at my seductively while telling me that you never realized how charming I could be.”
I rolled my eyes for the second time that night. Was he serious? I’d always suspected the ass hole had a crush on me even before the ‘incident’, but I never realized he was so demented that he’d hold me hostage just to force me to pretend to like him.
“Is that a no? Because I can come back in 30 minutes again if you’d like,” offered Ronald, still looking far too serious. It was unnerving, which in this situation was really saying something.
“Wow Ronald, I never realized how charming you could be,” I said, admittedly not trying at all to sound sincere, and it showed.
“No no no! First off, call me Ron. You’re trying to seduce me here, you wouldn’t call Jim ‘James’ while trying to seduce him, would you?” declared Ronald. I actually hadn’t really thought of it, I never did call Jim by his full name, but not for any particular intimacy reason that I knew of, Jim was just the name he’d gone by when I met him. “And again, you’re already seduced and trying to do your own seducing, I should see it in your face and hear it in your tone!”
“I’m sorry RON, but I’m not an actress, I can only do what I’m capable of doing,” I fired back.
“Bullshit! You’ll learn how to say it right, or you’ll never be leaving here!” declared Ronald, looking as pissed as I’d ever seen him, then turning and walking out the door.
After what I had to assume was another 30 minutes, Ronald returned, this time in a suit which was far more flattering then the previous two, and still looking angry. I probably should have felt fear for my safety, but instead I just felt frustration, letting out another groan.
“Fine..” I said, not even waiting for him to ask. “Wow Ron! I never realized how charming you could be...”
I honestly impressed myself with my delivery, I really didn’t realize I had that level of acting in me. The real question, unfortunately, however, was whether or not any amount of acting would ever really get Ronald to let me go, or if my only escape hope really was being found by the police.
“Perfect!” declared Ronald after another white and red flashing sesion, but rather then offer me another sip of whatever was in his glass, he simply went into his next request. “Now ask me if I’d like to come with you to a hotel room, promise me I’ll get lucky if I do, but then clarify that, being as your a married woman, this is just a one time fling and your husband can never know.”
I actually felt bile rise up from my stomach into my throat at the thought of such a scenario.
“I’m not going to cheat on Jim,” I said decisively. “I’ll let you starve me to death down here before I sleep with you.”
“I’m not asking you to sleep with anyone, nor will I ask you to do so to get untied, but I WILL make you SAY what I tell you to say. Keep doing that, and I’ll let you go before this night is through, resist, and...” responded Ronald before I interrupted.
“And I’ll be down here for years, yeah, yeah, I got it. FINE!” I declared before finding my inner actress again. This time it took me several takes before I could say it and sound even a little like I meant what I said, but eventually I convincingly said “So, Ron, what you say you and me meet up at a local hotel, I’ll buy the room, and if you show up, I guarantee you’ll get lucky. But just to be clear, this is just a one night stand, I’m still happily married to Jim.”
“I believe that was acceptable,” responded Ronald after once more putting us both at risk of epileptic seizure with his weird light show. “Care for a sip now?”
Once again I shook it off, though my throat was beginning to feel parched. This room was like an oven. Ronald surprised me by taking a sip himself.
“Ah, refreshing. For the record, I’ll get you a fresh glass if you’re worried about an indirect kiss with me, but I’m not offering again until you earn it,” explained Ronald acting far too smug for the piece of shit he was. “Now you’re going to exclaim that that was the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, in a completely serious tone, then pause for a moment, and in a genuinely frightened voice, note your concern that your husband will never be enough for you anymore.”
To this I responded by spitting in his face.
What he claimed was 30 minutes later he returned to the room in another outfit, this one once again looking awful.
“So are we ready to say our lines? Again, I’m not making you have sex, I’m just making you say words,” stated Ronald.
I wanted to spit in his face again but at this point my mouth was too dry, so instead I went once more back to that well of acting skill and gave it my best go. After what felt like about an hour of “not good enough” attempts, finally, feeling as winded and soar as I sounded, I nailed it as I said “Wow Ron, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but that was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life... I’m actually genuinely scared that Jim won’t be enough for me anymore...”
Once more the lights flashed.
“Well done, have a drink,” said Ronald, and this time I accepted, flat out guzzling the contents of the glass... only to find it to not be water as it appeared, but some sort of ridiculously strong alcoholic beverage. At once there was the flashing lights again.
“What the hell!” I yelled, spitting out what I hadn’t already swallowed.
“Don’t worry about that. Now, timidly and embarrassedly, ask me if we can meet up again tomorrow for one more round of guilty pleasure,” demanded Ronald. I really didn’t care anymore what he had me say, so this time I just went along with it... and the next 10 requests after that were all basically the same thing, me sounding like I’m ashamed of what I’m asking, but proposing yet another get together for sex. Then it moved on to me asking if we could just make it a regular thing every week, then twice a week, and eventually he had me ask if we could just get together every day during my lunch break at work for a quickie.
“Okay, you’re almost done,” said Ronald. “Now I want you to confess to me that as insane and shameful as it is for you to admit, you’ve become addicted to my cock, that getting to touch, suck, and be fucked by it is all that brings you happiness anymore, and that if I promise to let you touch, suck, and get fucked by it daily, you’ll leave your husband and be my live in, unpaid, slutty maid and whore for the rest of your days. And as this is your last line, I want you to sound like you REALLY mean it, if there’s even a hint of exaggeration or sarcasm in your voice, we’ll do it again.
This one had to have taken us several hours to get to his level of perfection he wanted, but finally he accepted “Ron, I... I have to tell you something, something I’m honestly ashamed to admit... but is 100% true, so please don’t laugh. Ron, I’ve become addicted to your cock. Getting to touch, suck, and be fucked by it is all that brings me happiness anymore and... and so... if you promise to let me touch, suck, and get fucked by it daily, I promise to leave my husband, move in with you, and spend the rest of my days as your own personal, live in, unpaid, cock worshipping, slutty madid whore. So... what do you say ? ”
“I say I accept your proposal,” responded Ronald.
After one more round of flashing lights Ronald became very silent, simply staring at me again, unnervingly.
“So I’m going to let you go in a moment, but before I do, I’d like you to recall the beginning of our last private hypnosis session, where-in you, while in said trance, agreed to let me place a trigger within you, a trigger I could use to cause you to forget portions of our time together. It took us quite a while to come to agreement as you might recall, you had so many stipulations, such as that the trigger could only work one time, that I could not use it to make you forget anything I said to you during the trance itself, which obviously bit me in the backside on that particularly night, and that the trigger wouldn’t work if I’d touched you in a sexual manner at any point during the period of time you would be forgetting. As you might recall, with those limitations agreed to in trance, the trigger was designed so that it would cause you to forget every interaction we’d had on the night it was uttered except the last things you said to me before each instance of the flashing light, and anything that happened in-between. I know you expressed you felt it was a dumb idea for a trigger at the time, but here’s the thing you didn’t know when you agreed to and accepted the terms deep in that trance. Our minds don’t like gaps, so when they see memories, things they remember well, but they don’t remember the things that came before or after, they tend to fill in those gaps with the most logical thought process they can come to for what probably happened in those gaps. This is why we often remember things being better or worse then they really were when we think to the past, our mind just remembers the really good or really bad memory, and thus fills in the gaps with equally good or bad things that logically could have happened, but may not have actually happened. I say all that only because you will now Fill the Gaps Belle.”
It was weird, whatever had just happened, I felt like Ron had said something but ... what had it been? Hopefully something related to his cock, involving me interacting with it.
“So, Belle, now that we have a deal...” started Ron as he untied me...
Wait, when had I gotten tied up? To be honest the past weeks, maybe even months, all felt kind of like a blur. It felt like just earlier today I’d saw Ron looking uncharacteristically decent in that one good suit he had and, presumably due to drunkenness, I recalled flirting with him before ended up so charmed by him, again I assume do to my drunken state, that I invited him to a hotel for a one night stand. Although I didn’t remember what I drank, I did recall practically guzzling it, and that it had been so strong I could almost sware I still tasted it on my lips to this day! It was thus no surprise that I’d be drunk enough to make such a horrible mistake... and yet... while I could not call it anything but a mistake, the sex... I mean, its funny, I couldn’t even remember anything specific about the act itself, just the thought that I’d just had the best sex of my life, and that it was so good I’d felt Jim could never compete. But that feeling had stuck with me as I found myself coming back again and again until I couldn’t deny it any longer... I was obsessed, I was addicted, I was a literal slave to Ron’s cock. And now, for better or worse, my slavery was official.
“...would you please tear off all your clothes, drop to your knees, and deep throat me?” came the precise words from Ron’s mouth I’d hoped he’d say.
“I thought you’d never ask!” I said, no sooner untied then doing precisely as he’d asked, literally tearing my clothes from my body, dropping to my knees, unzipping his pants, pulling out his amazing cock, and shoving it as far done my throat as I could endure before engaging in one of the most satisfying blow jobs I’d ever given.
“You know, they say the mind is such a powerful part of our being, that if we believe something enough, our body will actually make it true. Its why there are women who were so certain they were pregnant, they took on all the physical symptoms, despite their womb being empty, or a hypnotized women who hates onions could eat a raw onion and find it tastes like a tasty apple. I bet if you weren’t already addicted to my cock, even you would become addicted if I used hypnosis to make you believe it strongly enough,” noted Ron between moans as I worked his rod until at last he blew his load.
“See this is why you had to drop out in college, I told you, a person can’t be made to do something they don’t want to, and I assure you, if I wasn’t already addicted, I wouldn’t want to be,” I corrected, whilst licking the cum off my lips.
“I guess its just good for me that you are then,” said Ron, but I wasn’t really listening, I was too obsessed with the perfect cock of his. The bliss of getting to merely touch it, combined with the ecstasy of getting to suck it... there was only one thing I could think to do with it that could possibly be any more satisfying. I needed it in my dripping pussy, I needed it to fuck me.
“But what about your husband, James, while I’m sure I couldn’t make him do anything he didn’t want to, do you think you could?”
That took me a back, both because of the shame I felt at remembering that I was still married to Jim, and the fact I actually wasn’t sure of the answer. He trusted me so thoroughly, as long as I told him up front that things I asked him to do initially wouldn’t make sense, but that if he trusted me they all would come together for his good in the end, he might ... no he would go along with it, I was sure of it. And so I nodded my affirmation.
“Wonderful, then there’s one last thing I need you to do for me if you want to get feel this cock between your thighs,” said Ron...
It was now a year since the day I made that proposal to Ron and he accepted, and I couldn’t be happier. I was getting to touch, suck, and fuck his addictive cock every day, and we were getting to do it openly now that I’d convinced James that my being Ron’s cock obsessed slutty maid live-in whore was not only perfectly normal, but so preferable to any alternative that he’d actually been the one to suggest I do it. At Ron’s request, I’d even convinced James to compensate Ron for being so generous as to allow me such frequent access to his cock. He’d done so out of the excess from his job initially, but some where along the way, while worshipping his cock, I’d mentioned to Ron how James had really been the one who’d turned the school against him. After that, and a little more “convincing” from me at Ron’s request, Jim realized his dream was actually that we would both be cock worshipping slutty maid whores, so he quit his job and began paying my “bills” for my priveldge of getting to both wait on Ron hand and foot and worship his cock daily, via working the streets for any man who wanted a tranny maid fetish whore. It was a bit touch and go at first, but then Ron had me remove any memory James had that even remotely contradicted that this was the thing he wanted most in the world, and now James couldn’t be happier either! Now Ron is beginning to talk about wanting to start a harem, but if I’m honest I don’t really pay the things he says much mind. All I care about is that he’s filling my gaps.