A Stage Hypnotist

Lance Carter, a.k.a. Doctor Mesmero, a famous hypnotist. He'd come to your town a few weeks ago, according to your files. It matches what you remember, ads started popping up around that time, advertising his nightly shows. It was a pretty small town, unused to having something like a celebrity come through. Over the course of those weeks, you're sure that everyone in the town must've sat through one of his shows at least once. Even you, who didn't have much interest in that sort of thing, went to see the show one night out of curiosity. You were surprised to see he was good, really good. You had a great time at the show. You think Doctor Mesmero is a wonderful performer.

But, just a few days ago, you were approached by two girls, sisters, who had gone to see his show. The older one claimed her younger sister had been lured behind stage by Mr. Carter, only to turn up back at the house the next day, unwilling to talk about what had happened. Talking to them, the younger sister seemed entirely unphased, even as her older sister lapsed into hysterics on the couch in your office. Moved, you had **** but to accept the case. Which brings you to this deposition.

Mr. Carter is sitting across the table from you, still dressed in his getup from the show, a two-piece suit with a black and white checkered cape. It kind of hurts to look at. He's a tall man, with a long, goateed face. He had a smile on his face, as he had during his show, but this smile seems condescending, like he's above everything that's going on.

You've regained some of your composure, resolved with the purpose of your meeting. "Anyway," you say, "even if you refuse legal counsel, I'm still prepared to go through with this deposition."

"Hmm," he says, stroking his goatee while still smiling, "I wonder if your firm has some kind of policy about that..."

You jolt in your chair as the feeling in your chest hits you again. It starts out feeling the same as before, but then you start to feel... warm. And good, relaxed. You're relaxed. The feeling in your chest feels good. But your head is starting to spin again. You try to pull the same trick you did last time and read your notes. But you already read the last page, you need to go to the next one. You go to turn the page. But you can't. You frown, and try again, but you can't seem to get the page to turn over.

"Excuse me," says Doctor Mesmero across from you, still smiling, "is this really workplace-appropriate behavior? Is this really the way things are run around here?"

He gestures towards you but you don't understand what he means until you look down and see that both your hands are groping your breasts. You watch in horror as your hands knead the fleshy mounds up and down, squeezing and caressing, sending a warm feeling through your body. You yelp and fling your hands to your sides, leaving your white blouse crumpled, one button undone. You quickly move to refasten it over your modest breasts (though they are, as you just confirmed, a bit more than a handfull).

"Just, ah, adjusting my shirt..." you spit out, almost on reflex. You don't know what you were doing, and you're trying to rationalize it almost as much to yourself as you are to him.

"So," the Doctor says with a grin, "you've had a chance to see my show?"

"Ah, yes, but..." you answer, even though his phrasing didn't make his question seem much like one.

"Laura, Laura..." he sighs, "what would your firm think if they saw you like this?"

Your hands spring from fixing your shirt back up to your breasts, pressing against them, rubbing against your nipples which are erect under the fabric of your bra. You shriek and jump back in your chair, trying desperately to will your hands away, but they won't listen to you.

Mesmero laughs. "They do look pretty firm, don't they?" At once, your hands redouble their efforts, and you feel yourself moisten as your own hands work you over.

You're almost angry at yourself for not putting the pieces together sooner. "What are you doing to me?!" you yell. You tried to sound intimidating, but it only came out ****. "Make this stop!"

"You know, Laura," starts Mesmero. He pauses for a moment before he continues speaking. But what comes out of his mouth is something you can't understand. His mouth is moving and noise is coming out and some part of you is telling you that you should be able to put those sounds together into words but the more you try the more you can't understand what he says and as you stare at his lips and listen to his words your brain starts to do backflips and you're dizzy and spinning and falling and the world starts to collapse around you falling-

You snap back awake, shaking your head, hands pressed against your temples to help you get a grip. You press your eyes shut for a moment until your head feels better. You don't know what came over you. You take your fingers off your temple and raise your head.