The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

‘PAYBACK TIME’

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Overview: From his concealed vantage point he could see and note her exact times of arrival and departure at the courthouse; the same building where, a few weeks over five years ago, she had sat behind her high and mighty judge’s bench and sentenced him to prison as a rapist.

Prison also taught him something else of incredible value which had served him for the entire five year prison sentence. And it would serve him well for the next five sentence – theirs.

Jamie was now skilled operator and ex-prison entertainer. Now he intended to entertain those women responsible for his prison life … with shock hypnosis.

‘PAYBACK TIME’

1

Jamie Jameson, now thirty-two years of age and called ‘JJ’ by his friends-most of them being still on the inside because he had never made any outside of the prison where he’d spent the past five years, made little notes in his book as he peered down from the roof of the high building overlooking the courthouse.

From his concealed vantage point he could see and note her exact times of arrival and departure at the courthouse-the same building where, a few weeks over five years ago she had sat behind her high and mighty judge’s bench and sentenced him to prison as a rapist.

Jamie was not, in fact, unbeknown to the judge or anybody else, a ‘serial’ rapist, and had never been so. The irony of his sentencing and that which had him hell bent now on revenge of the purest kind was that, he had ‘not’ raped the woman she had sent him to prison for. He had simply been the last person to see her before she had been raped and beaten savagely, after she had left the Laundromat late one night, after doing her laundry.

Jamie had been in the same Laundromat, at the same time. He had been taking care of his own dirty laundry, and in fact, had actually enjoyed for a change a casual and friendly conversation with the woman in her mid-twenties while they had both waited for the machines to go through their wash, soak and spin cycles. Jamie had liked the woman for her openness, something that rarely affected him.

He was usually closed-mouthed. He had even told her his name and the apartment block in which he lived, with the remote idea that maybe he might ask her out, one day, as in a real date. It ‘had’ happened before-although rarely, but it had happened. She had also told him where ‘she’ lived, which had been only a short walk from the Laundromat.

Early the next morning the door of Jamie’s apartment had exploded inward like an atomic bomb with several burly police officers in swat uniforms and crash helmets. They were all over him in seconds like a heat rash while his hand was still moving on his morning glory. They waved pump action shotguns and pistols in his face and read him his rights while one in particular near broke both his arms as they flipped him suffocating down into the bedcovers and jammed both his arms painfully up between his shoulder blades.

That particular swat officer had been a Mexican or Hispanic woman who seemed as tough as nails. She also seemed to take great deal of sadistic delight in the pain she had been deliberately causing him while she abused and accused him, close to his ear, of being the filthy, low down mongrel vile pig of a rapist she knew he was. At the time, Jamie knew he would never forget her scent, or her malicious accusatory voice right in his ear, for as long as he lived.

The woman who had been raped and beaten had, later in the day, identified him in a line-up, as the only person who knew she would have had to walk home the half mile to her own apartment; a walk which passed through an unlit park along the way.

Having no alibi and no witness to back up his story that he had remained for at least another half an hour at the Laundromat, with more dirty laundry to do, Jamie had been accused, convicted and sentenced for the crime of raping and beating the defenceless woman, as she had walked home, carrying her clean laundry.

The judge, a not-too-attractive, but not-too-plain woman in her mid-forties, had been particularly scathing in her sentencing remarks, calling him the scum of the earth; a beast of the vilest and lowest order of society.

She had told him in front of the entire courtroom of people and media in attendance that if it had been within her power to do so she would have had him castrated for the dirty stinking predator animal he was. It had seemed to Jamie, at the time that the woman judiciary had been deliberately making a public spectacle of him, for the benefit of the city’s newspaper people just to look tough.

It had been to his absolute horror, an open and shut case from the raped woman’s, the media’s, and the court’s point of view. Jamie had been further held up to public ridicule and embarrassment when the newspaper had run for several days with the story, calling him an animal who should be shot; a predator upon defenceless women and a leach of society’s great unwashed who should be stepped on and squashed, like vermin forever, under the feet of the upstanding people of the community.

Jamie had read the name of the journalist who had written the dehumanising articles about him. She had gloated about him getting his just rewards by being locked up for the filthy animal and blight upon society that he was; her only regret being, she printed publicly, was that the time he had been sentenced to should have been life, instead of only five years.

The fact that the evidence had been only circumstantial had kept the legal sentence down. Although the woman had identified him from the Laundromat, she had not been able to identify him as the one who had raped and beaten her. It had been too dark, she had said.

So the circumstantial evidence that had convicted Jamie had also allowed legally for only a five-year sentence. He had been grateful for that small mercy at least, at the time.

Although he had been absolutely livid at the non-acceptance of his innocence in the rape case, Jamie knew that everything that had been said about him by the female swat policewoman, the woman judge and the female journalist had been absolutely not true.

But what made him hate all three women with a passion that had developed over next five years into a life obsession was that they hadn’t known it had not been true. They had only assumed he was guilty because they had wanted him to be.

Now, out of prison only three weeks, Jamie was putting his long-awaited plan of pure and sweet revenge into action. In the first two weeks after his release he had just taken it easy; happy to be free, after all those long years of isolation, especially being isolated from women.

During those first two weeks and for the first time in his life he had actually paid good money for sex with several prostitutes, just to take the aching edge off his nature so he could concentrate on realising the plan that had kept him sane throughout each day of harsh prison life. He had not enjoyed the isolation at all.

For the past week now, he had been stalking the judge, unnoticed, as she went through her daily routines. He had noted and still was noting her every movement; where she went, how long she remained there, what she did, if he could ascertain it, and by what road routes she travelled, as she worked her way through each routine of each day of her week, from Monday to Sunday.

It was now Monday again and the beginning of the second week of following her. Jamie figured that two weeks would be all he would need, but he knew he couldn’t miss a thing.

He had to have her movements down pat so that he could anticipate and expect the expected, and not be caught by the unexpected and therefore, by surprise; too many years spent in planning to slip up through shoddy surveillance, now.

He had dreamed and sweated and worked and planned, so that the high and mighty judge would get her due comeuppance, and she would, but in his own way and in his own sweet time. He wasn’t going to blow it now by rushing or being careless, in any way whatsoever.

He had two more women he had yet to follow. Jamie only wanted to do each one once, so that nothing in his surveillance of each would be missed. Now, he had patience. If prison life had taught him nothing else, it had taught him that.

Prison life had also taught Jamie Jameson about hypnosis, an interest he obtained when the prison authorities had arranged for a stage hypnosis show, as part of a once-yearly and only reward for the inmates of the prison.

He had heard about hypnosis, of course, but had never given it any credence for being anything other than side-show entertainment, or, if real, a means of duping stupid and gullible people into making complete fools of themselves in public.

But, after the night of the first stage hypnosis show Jamie had changed his mind completely, especially when he had seen many of the toughest and smartest inmates in the prison reduced to crying like babies, doing things that made complete fools of themselves, but mainly, doing exactly as they had been told to do, by the stage hypnotist.

The whole show had been a wild hit and had proven very popular, with both guards and prisoners, alike. That first introduction to hypnosis had then led Jamie to his own further research from the prison library, followed by private practice among the only friends he’d made there, up to that time.

It hadn’t been long before Jamie was hypnotising all of them, each time, first time, every time. He ended up providing light entertainment for them all, the prison staff and guards, as well.

The other inmates, always starved for any sort of entertainment to ease the boredom of harsh prison life, loved his mini hypnosis shows and so did he. And so, Jamie’s friends on the inside began to grow.

He continued entertaining the troops, as he called them, with his mini hypnosis stage shows, until one day it suddenly dawned on him that he didn’t need a hypnotic trance to establish a rapport with a prisoner’s subconscious ‘feeling’ mind, which was when all the fun took place, as well as the literal slave-like obedience to the spoken command.

Jamie realised that trance was just ‘one’ of the ways that would successfully bypass the critical factor of their conscious ‘thinking’ mind. Shock or imbalance, or both combined did the job, just as effectively, and, without the cumbersome time-consuming bother of spending twenty or thirty minutes relaxing them down, beginning with the first hair on the top of their head and ending up with the toenails on their feet.

Jamie realised, within a very short time, that he had accidentally discovered a secret he would be able to use to his advantage for the rest of his life... ‘mind’ control.

Once his hypnotic prowess had become known, for the remainder of his prison stay Jamie had been asked to do the hypnosis stage shows, each and every year. He was a huge success.

Little did they know he had been secretly practising direct bypass hypnosis, until he had the technique down to a fine art, such that whomever he tried it on had not the slightest idea he had been hypnotising them, and they remained ignorant of that fact, simply because he used direct bypass amnesia commands to go with it.

No one ever remembered him doing it, unless he had been doing a demonstration. When doing demonstrations, Jamie had always been careful in not really showing them, just how effective he had actually become.

For the rest of his stay in prison, Jamie had never gone short of cigarettes, chocolates and protection, or anything else he had wanted from the prisoners or the prison guards.

But what Jamie had really wanted, he hadn’t been able to get, even with his special instantaneous methods of hypnosis—‘women’. The substitute for them that was available in coupling with males he had not been interested in, in the slightest.

Women, Jamie now smiled, shaking his head; they had been the plague of his life. He couldn’t live with them and he couldn’t live without them, and because of them, three in particular, he had been embarrassed, hurt, and had spent the last five years behind bars with no female company whatsoever.

Then his smile widened in a broad grin. All that’s about to change, he whispered softly, as he focused on woman judge who now came out, through the high concrete archway of the courthouse, right on time, as she had done on each previous working day.

Jamie watched her through the lenses of his powerful binoculars, as she walked down the steps of the courthouse then turned left toward the security car park where she parked her car, daily. He believed he had discovered her weak spot, already, but the rest of the weeks’ surveillance would prove him right or wrong.

Yes, he grinned, as he zoomed his powerful artificial eyes directly in on her mid-fortyish and stocky, but shapely figure; all that was about to change. Soon it would be payback time!