He lets Chuck have some fun too

The stage was empty now except for The hypnotist.

He spread his arms, cape flaring.

“And that, my friends,” he said, “concludes our volunteer portion of the evening.”

Chuck sat there, chest tight, staring at the spot where Katie had last walked past. The sounds from the floor kept going, moans, laughter, wet slaps, the occasional oink or parrot squeak drifting through the noise.

The hypnotist stood center stage, arms spread once more, cape settling around him like he owned the whole damn room.

“We have about twenty more minutes to go before we must return the participants and end the show, of course,” he announced. “So make the most of it!”

He laughed then snapped his fingers sharp.

“Em!”

His assistant bounced forward right away, tits still out, heels clicking. She dragged a simple wooden chair from the wings and positioned it dead center under the spotlight. The hypnotist sat down without ceremony, unzipped his pants again and shoved them down to his thighs. His cock sprang free, still hard, glistening from earlier.

Em didn’t wait for an order. She climbed onto his lap, straddled him facing forward, lined him up, and sank down slowly. His dick disappeared inside her pussy in one smooth motion. She started riding him immediately, hips rolling, passionate, like they were lovers who’d done this a hundred times. Her head tilted back, mouth open in a soft moan that carried through the speakers. The hypnotist gripped her hips, guiding her rhythm, but his eyes never left Chuck’s table.

Chuck stared back. His vision blurred at the edges, he was almost about to cry. The helplessness burned worse than anything so far.

The hypnotist’s gaze softened, just a fraction. He kept thrusting up into Em while he spoke, voice calm, almost kind.

“It’s okay, bud,” he said, looking straight at Chuck. “I think you’ve learned your lesson. I want us all to have fun here.”

Right then Annie sauntered up beside Chuck’s table. She was down to just the silver thong now, tube top gone, choker still tight around her neck, bad blonde hair messy and sticking to her sweat-damp skin. Cum streaks still visible on her thighs from whoever she’d been with earlier.

The hypnotist caught her eye over Em’s bouncing shoulder.

“Annie,” he called gently, “why don’t you go fuck my paralyzed friend there? He looks like he could use some company.”

Annie glanced at Chuck, then back at the hypnotist. “Sure thing, boss. But like, what about my payment?”

The hypnotist shrugged mid-thrust. “Take whatever you want from the purse on the table.”

Annie’s eyes lit up. She spotted Katie’s small clutch, red, matching the dress she’d stripped out of, sitting abandoned on the edge of Chuck’s table. She smirked.

“Yes, sir.”

She stepped in close. Reached down without asking and yanked Chuck’s pants open. Belt undone, zipper down, boxers shoved aside in seconds. His cock was already hard, traitorous, responding even when the rest of him screamed no. Annie pushed his chair back a foot to give herself room, then turned around, hooked her thong to the side, and sank her ass straight down onto him.

Chuck wanted to yell. Wanted to shove her off. He’d only ever been with Katie, five years, just her. This wasn’t him. He didn’t want this.

But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak above a whisper. All he could do was sit there helpless as Annie started riding, expertly rolling her hips in tight circles, clenching around him like she’d been paid by the minute. Despite everything, the pleasure hit hard and fast. Wet heat, pressure, the way she squeezed just right. He lasted 16 minutes, sixteen agonizing, shameful minutes, before he came inside her asshole, body jerking against the invisible restraints.

Annie lifted off him nonchalantly, like she’d just finished a quick errand. A thin trail of cum leaked from her as she stood. She reached into Katie’s purse, rummaged for a second, and pulled out a couple of hundred-dollar bills, probably from Katie’s emergency cash. She folded them once and patted Chuck lightly on the head with the money like he was a good boy who’d earned a treat.

“Thanks, sweetie,” she said, then sauntered off toward another table, cash tucked into her thong.

Chuck sat there, pants around his thighs, cum cooling on his skin, feeling violated in a way that went deeper than the physical. Nothing he could do. Nothing he could say.

About ten minutes later, movement on stage pulled his eyes back up.

Em slid off The hypnotist’s lap with a soft, satisfied sigh. He tucked himself away, zipped up, and stood. Straightened his suit. Clapped his hands once, loud, commanding.

“Alright, everyone,” he said into the mic. “Time for the show to end.”

He raised his voice, carrying over the low hum of the room.

“All participants, return to the stage!”