"I don't have a thing to prove to you," I said. And since I was already up on my feet and I couldn't stand this hack anyway, I turned around, and I started toward the exit.
"You see," the hypnotist continued, talking to the rest of his audience. "This young lady is afraid. Perhaps she wants to believe that she knows how the human mind works, but she refuses to explore something she doesn't understand."
"I'm not afraid," I snapped back at him, turning around.
"Then come up here and have a seat with me," said the hypnotist. "Show me that you are brave, young lady. Show everyone here that you really do know what you're talking about. After all, if my abilities truly are fake, then you have nothing to be scared of."
"Fine," I snapped.
And even though I understood perfectly well that he was goading me, I didn't care. I stomped my feet against the floor, and I made my way right up to the stage.
Once I got up there, I turned around, and I faced the audience. Dozens of college students stared back at me. We were all on spring break. We were all just looking for a good time, only now I didn't know what to do. I felt awkward.
"Have a seat, young lady."
"Fine," I told him, sitting down, crossing my legs, and pulling my arms up to my chest.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Jasmine," I told him.
"My name is Derek," he said, holding out his hand. We shook, and I pretended that I didn't despise everything he stood for. As a psychologist, I admired the science and rigor which went into the study of the human mind. For me, nothing could be more important than the pursuit of knowledge. But this hack came up here, he used a couple of parlor tricks, and he confused people.
It was infuriating.
"Well, Derek, are you going to hypnotize me?" I asked, rolling my eyes. A couple of members of the audience giggled.
"Yes. And to start, I want you to relax. Uncross your legs and put your hands on your lap." He spoke clearly, taking the seat across from me. The audience could see our profiles.
With a sigh, I played along. I put my hands on my lap and my feet on the floor. "Jasmine, you are a very pretty girl. Thank you for coming up here. That took a lot of bravery."
"Whatever. Show me what you can do. Show them what you can't do."
Again, a couple of people laughed. I told myself that I could do this, that I could take him on.
Derek reached into his pocket, and he took out a lighter. He snapped it, and the flame appeared. "Jasmine, focus on the flame. I want you to watch it. Follow it with your eyes as I move it back and forth, back and forth, back and forth."
"You don't need to repeat yourself," I said.
Derrick ignored my jibe. "As you sit here, I want you to focus on the flame. Watch as it moves. As you focus on the flame, let go of your other senses. You don't need to feel anything, you don't need to hear anything, you don't need to smell anything. There is only your vision, and the sound of my voice."
I parted my lips, getting ready to tell him something, but I found my body relaxing. Perhaps this came down to the fact that I didn't want to actively be a jerk. Or maybe, sitting up there, my sense of etiquette finally kicked in. After all, he was just a performer, a guy who is trying to make a living. Did I really need to give him a hard time? Did I really need to embarrass him in front of all of these college students?
"The flame is going from left to right, left to right, left to right. As you watch it, focus on my voice. Don't worry about anyone else. Don't worry about anything else. Relax. And as you relax, you can feel the weight of your body. You know that your arms are getting heavier. You can feel the weight pressed down on your shoulders and your hands. You can't lift your feet. But as the weight increases, you can feel your thoughts grow lighter."
He kept talking. He told me that my thoughts were like balloons, that I needed to hold them tight. Several more seconds went by. "Now I want you to release those balloons. One at a time, let them go. Feel them drift away. Every thought is filled with helium. Every thought is going to try to ride its way up to the sky. Let them go, Jasmine.”
My eyelids started to get heavy. My body really did relax.
At the same time, I tried to tell myself that this was my decision. The harder I worked to find that idea, the more I failed. It felt like drifting down into quicksand. It was warm and soft, gentle and easy.
Before long, I forgot all about the audience. I no longer heard their voices or snickers. I no longer thought about my friends. After a little while, his voice became everything. I heard Derek speak, and he seemed overwhelming.
Stranger still, his voice no longer seemed to like sounds. Instead, these words just popped into my head.
That's right, Jasmine. Relax. You're doing a wonderful job of. Let go of your thoughts. Your eyelids are getting heavy, your body is drooping, but that's okay. There's only the sound of my voice. Everything else is faded away. You no longer have to think for yourself. You no longer have to react to anything except for what I tell you.
Now, I want you to listen very closely…
"Give her a round of applause, ladies and gentlemen! Jasmine has been fantastic, hasn't she?"
Blinking, I looked around. I was standing up, yet I couldn't recall getting out of the chair. Stranger still, I glanced down, to see that I was only wearing my bra and panties.
My friends along with the rest of the audience hooted and cheered. Immediately, I stepped back, holding my arms over my mostly naked body.
"What, what happened?" I sputtered.
No one answered me. Derek walked back and forth, enjoying the applause from his audience. At the same time, I didn't know how to react. I kept looking around, expecting to see someone who would explain all of this. My brain seemed to freeze up.
"Remember to tip your waitresses," he called out, taking another bow. Then I spotted my clothes, my baby doll top and jeans neatly folded near the edge of the stage. I grabbed them, only to run off as fast as I could.
I ducked offstage, away from all of those eyes.
After everyone else was gone, I finally had the courage to creep back out. There were a couple of people still having drinks and talking. They glanced over at me, smirking. My face must've been burning bright red, but I didn't acknowledge any of them.
"What do you remember?" asked one of my friends, Monica. She looked at me, perhaps wondering if I was somehow faking.
"I, I remember him talking to me, telling me to relax. I remember all the stupid clichés about my eyelids getting heavy. But after that, everything kind of fades away."
"I guess hypnosis really is real," she said with a shrug. My other friends agreed all too quickly.
"What did I do?" I couldn't help myself. I had to ask.
"A lot," Michael told me. My friends glanced at one another. No one wanted to deliver the bad news.
"What? Please, I'm not going to get mad at you. Just tell me what happened." I couldn't quite believe the desperation in my voice. Again and again, I searched for memories from last few minutes. My sense of time hadn't changed. I knew that I had been unconscious for a little while, yet it felt like I'd fallen asleep.
Eventually, Michael put his hands on my shoulders. "Look, Jasmine, maybe you should just let it go."
Those words immediately made the heat prickle along my skin. "Tell me," I commanded. Michael was taller than me by a couple of inches, but even he stepped back.
"First, he had you relax, which you apparently remember. After that, he had you take off your top. Then he made you take off your jeans. Then he had you do a little striptease. He brought up a couple of the guys from the audience, and you give them lap dances."
"That's, that's not possible," I insisted. "Hypnosis isn't real. He couldn't really make me do anything I wouldn't normally want to do."
My friends shrugged.
They started to make their way toward the exit. "Are you coming with us?" Michael wanted to know.
"Go ahead. I need to talk to Derek."
M
y friends retreated out the door, but I turned back, refusing to let this get to me.
Swinging my arms with every determined stride, I made my way between the small tables. I marched back up onto the stage, and then I saw him again. Derek came up to me. "Thank you for your help tonight. It's always a lot of fun when girls like you come in here."
"Girls like me?" I raised an eyebrow. Frankly, I was already incensed. Hearing him take that patronizing tone of voice with me nearly pushed me over the edge.
"That's right. I see you all the time, these college girls who think that they know everything because they taken a psychology class or two.” Bemused, he shook his head from side to side. "But don't worry. I didn't make you do anything too embarrassing."
"You made me strip." My eyes narrowed to angry slits. Frankly, I had to summon up all of my self-control not to leap at him, to grab him by his shirt and shove him up against the wall. Granted, Derek looked pretty fit, like the kind of guy who worked out. There was a good chance I would've been able to overpower him, yet every nerve in my body told me to try.
"Hypnosis isn't real," I insisted again.
"Are you sure about that? Are you sure that I can't make your body do whatever I want?"
"Yes," I replied without even thinking.
Derek leaned in. He whispered something to me. "Now go home, little girl. When you want to call and apologize, use this number." He held out a card for me.
At first, I was tempted to grab it and rip it up. Instead, I slammed it down into my pocket. I turned around, and I marched away.
What just happened?
That night, I was alone in my hotel room. I thought I was just going to get some sleep. Monica, Michael, and the rest of my friends were off at a party somewhere. They invited me to come along, but I didn't feel like it. Instead, there is something else I needed to do.
Hiding under the hotel blankets, I pulled down my pajama pants.
Normally, I would take a shower and brush my teeth and get into bed. I would think about my homework assignments, especially since I only had a few more days of spring break. But this time, something happened. I was starting to get damp when my legs. Nibbling on my lower lip, I thought about a man. I thought about what it would be like to watch him undress.
Derek.
At first, a little spark of revulsion curled in my stomach. After all, he was a jerk, a patronizing, condescending hack. Even so, he did have a nice body. At least, that's what I told myself as my fingers made their way past the elastic of my panties.
Slowly, I started to stroke my crevice. I had no idea what got into me or why I behaved like this. There was no way for me to know that Derek whispered something in my ear, something which no one in the audience heard.
All I knew was that I needed this.
It felt so good, surrendering to the impulses of my body. Normally, I always seemed so uptight. I couldn’t masturbate, I couldn’t hook up with any of the guys, and I couldn’t just enjoy my body.
Soon I was panting. Soon I was moaning. I kept my knees apart.
My fingertips plunged down into my pussy, and I rubbed my clitoris. I stroked it gently, tracing different patterns, circles, stars, and spirals. Intense pleasure raced through my body, and I closed my eyes.
Instinctively, I understood something was missing. Before I knew what I was doing, I peeled off my top, and I threw the T-shirt down onto the floor. Then I used my free hand, and I cupped one of my breasts. I squeezed and pinched my nipple. Then I moved over to my other breast.
In fact, I loved touching my chest so much that I brought my other hand up as well. I squeezed my melons, massaging my buds. My nipples hardened almost instantly, and I closed my eyes, arching my back. I was about to climax!
Close, closer, so close!
Then I felt something against my palms. Something wet, something creamy, something warm.
I should have been surprised. I should have stopped right there, but with the yearning deep within my core, I couldn't. I just couldn't.
That's why I ran my palms over my nipples. I squeezed my breasts, savoring that flow. With my eyes closed, I couldn't see what was happening, but I couldn't bring myself to care, not when it felt so wonderful. Ecstasy brimmed along my skin, making every inch of my body tingle.
When I pinched my nipples between my thumb and fingertips, it happened. A rocket of pleasure exploded inside of me. Panting, I was left gasping for air, trying to get my thoughts back together. It was only then that I looked down at my palms and I saw the milk in the dim light…
Right away, I got up, and I went back into the bathroom. I turned on the light, and I checked again. I looked down at my nipples, and a pair of milky white droplets still clung to the tips of my breasts.
Was this possible? What was happening?
I lifted my palm up to the tip of my nose, and I sniffed. From there, I stuck out my tongue, and I licked at the palm of my hand. It tasted like milk. Maybe it was sweeter than what I was used to, but it was definitely milk.
What was happening to me? What was going on?
That's when my phone rang. I jumped, shocked. Then I told myself that it was probably just one of my friends. Maybe someone got drunk, so they wanted me to come help.
I picked up the phone and held it to my ear. "Hello?"
"Jasmine, it's good to hear your voice again. I think it's time for us to meet."
My brows crinkled with confusion because I didn't immediately recognize the voice. Then it hit me and I have no problem picturing his dark hair or strong jaw. Derek. "What do you want?"
"You'll see when you come and meet me."
"Why would I do something like that?"
"Because cows wear bells,” he said.
Immediately, I lowered my arm, and I turned off my phone. I went back to the bed, and I grabbed my T-shirt and pants and panties from the floor. I pulled them on, unconcerned about the fact that I was going to go outside in nothing but my pajamas.
Inside of my body, I tried to stop myself. But it felt like I moved on autopilot. I picked up my PJ bottoms, I slid my legs into each pant, and I did it all while trying to stop. Suddenly, it felt like I was a prisoner inside of my own body.
As hard as I tried to get myself to stop, to try to figure out what was going on, I couldn't. Before I knew it, I had my purse, and I made my way outside. There was a taxi already waiting for me. I got inside.
"Jasmine?" asked the driver.
"Yes," I said, and my voice must have been distant, almost like I was in a trance.
Again and again, I tried to ask him where we were going, who hired him, and what was going on. I needed more information, yet I sat there in the back of the taxi, my hands neatly folded on my lap. My heart refused to pound, and my breathing was level and even.
Then, the taxi pulled up in front of a house in a middle-class neighborhood. Everything here looked so normal. I reached into my purse, and I pulled out all my cash. I handed it to the driver.
"Thank you, miss,” he said.
"You're welcome," I replied before getting out and making my way up to the front door. Just as I thought I was going to ring the doorbell or start knocking, I instead got down on my knees.
Because of the late hour, there weren't any pedestrians strolling along the sidewalks. None of the neighbors were out. So I stayed there on my knees, waiting. It was cold. Goose bumps ran up and down my arms. I only wore my T-shirt and sweatpants.
Finally, the door opened, and there he stood, Derek the hypnotist.
"Hello, Jasmine. Do you still want to tell me that hypnotism isn't real?"
I beat against the mental barriers which kept me from controlling my body. I slammed my willpower against my muscles, all of which remained unresponsive. Derek instead reached down, and he touched the underside of my chin. He forced me to look up at him.
Although I couldn't turn my head, my body seemed malleable and pliant when it came to his touch. "That's right. I think the ties will make you completely obedient. If I guid
e you, you will feel compelled to obey me. And to think, I did all of this programming in front of an entire audience."
He shook his head, obviously impressed with his own skills. I would have loved to slap him across the face, but I couldn't control my own body. I couldn't even lift my arm!
"Jasmine, follow me like a good girl."
I didn't understand what he meant. Automatically, I figured I would start to stand as he strolled away, deeper into his home. Instead, I moved forward on my knees and on my palms. I was crawling! Despite the cold that claimed my body, I found my skin turning bright red. Embarrassment danced along my flesh as I crawled forward.
He glanced back, perhaps making sure that I followed like a good girl.
"You don't like that, do you?"
I parted my lips, hoping to answer. Somehow, I couldn't force my voice to work.
"Don't worry. I will let you out of this trance eventually."
Still crawling, I followed him down the hallway to a set of double doors. He opened them for me and stood back. "Get on the bed."
I couldn't help myself. When I heard that command, it felt as though my body automatically responded. I moved up onto the mattress. I stayed on my knees.
"You are a lovely girl, but you don't look very good in your pajamas. They aren't very sexy. Take off that frumpy shirt and those wrinkled pants."
Shaking his head, he smiled at me as I obeyed. Again and again, I tried to stop myself. I worked up every ounce of discipline I could muster, yet my arms continued to move of their own accord. It felt as though my body belonged to someone else and I was simply along for the ride.
And when I was done, I only had on my bra and panties.
"The same underwear you had on earlier today," he said with a chuckle. "Take them off as well."
I tried to tell him to go screw himself. One insult after another streamed through my head, but I couldn't voice anything at all. I was trapped within my own body while he manipulated me, teasing me like I was nothing but a puppet.
I pulled off my bra and panties, exactly as he said. And I remained there, kneeling.
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