The Greatest Trick Ever Pulled

"Beth" my roommate, Suzanne, says in a pleading voice, "you just have to come with us. You have to get out of the house." She has been asking me to go with her and her boyfriend to this hypnotist all week and it has such little appeal.

"I just don't feel like leaving." I said to her, Normally on a Saturday we would walk the half block to Cue Balls the neighborhood bar but we had originally been on double dating to this show when she got tickets but being that I found out my girlfriend was cheating on me last weekend I have suddenly lost all motivation. Honestly it didn't seem to be my thing when we first got tickets and now I feel seeing the empty chair next to me just feels like it will be the salt in the wound I don't need. But Suzanne had been a big fan of this person showing me all sorts of youtube clips and had her heart set. Plus, she could be very resilient.

It took an hour of begging to get me to start to change to leave the house. She wasn't wrong. I probably did need an excuse to shower and get out of the house. I just wished it wasn't some hack with cheap parlor tricks.

I finally agree and get out of my bed and stare into my closet for a full 5 minutes. "Fuck it" I say out loud to nobody "If I am going out I am going to look fucking good." I pull out some clothes that I know will make me look good.

After a hot shower I slick my short red hair back. I add some stark eye makeup and fire red lipstick. The black lace bustier makes my smaller breasts look fucking hot under my black pant suit. My pumps give a little height to my 5'4" frame.

I step out of the bathroom. "Lets see some fucking magic." I say trying to muster up as much excitement as I can. Suzanne and her boyfriend, Mark, just stare at me for a second. Suzanne at my face, mark at the cleavage popping out of my suit jackets.

"Well" Suzanne says after second "We feel underdressed but hell yeah lets see some fucking magic. Well no technically it's mentalism and hypnosis."

They are underdressed in their T-shirts and jeans but I don't care. If I am going I am determined to go how I want the world to see me. "MAGIC!" I reply in a matter of fact tone and as I start to walk to the door. As I pass them in the same matter of fact tone I say "Mark, stop staring at my tits and you are driving my car is almost out of gas." I can hear Suzanne hit him with her purse behind me as we all file out of the door.

After twenty minutes in Mark's Honda we made it to the theater. There are posters of the performer, The Great Marissi, (Suzanne kept correcting me "It's Mah-ree-cE") plastered all over the lobby. They are the standard magic affair. She is in a tuxedo, her black waving hair wind blown as she glares at you like the poster is trying to read your mind. There is smoke in the blackness behind her. "Well," I say to Mark and Suzanne "At least she is hot."

"You just wait." Suzanne says in protest "She's a genius."

"Genius at taking our money and looking hot doing it." I retort. The bell telling us to find our seats goes off and I feel a small wave of something like shivers going over me.

We found our seats in the theater. They are really good and I sort of feel like shit for ragging on the show. Suzanne must have paid a lot for the seats. "Wow" I say to her "I have never been this close. Thanks."

I can see that this has done a lot to smooth over my general attitude. She smiles kindly and says "Really, thanks for coming. I know it's not your thing but I really appreciate it and think you are going to like it." I reach out and squeeze her hand in friendship as the lights begin to dim and the cloud starts to clap.

There is, of course, lasers and fog. Like I said before, it's just a magic show. But still a well produced magic show. And also like stated before, The Great Marissi is hot. She comes out in a charcoal pencil skirt with a slit half way up the thigh, tall black boots that go to her knees. What appears to be fishnets. Her shirt is a semi sheer white button up with a black bra under it. Her wavy dark hair pulled up. She looks like a hot librarian moonlighting as a dominatrix. Her British accent just adds to the whole appeal and, I have to say, she has my attention.

Marissi says "Tonight is going to be a night of volunteers. But most people think I work with plants so it will totally be at random. I don't need plants or stooges because, you see, since the moment you stepped foot in the theater I have been working to get inside your mind."

"I just sit back and think "Please don't pick me. Please don't pick me. Pick my friend. She would love it."

She introduces how volunteers are picked. A song is played as a beach ball is bounced around. When the song stops, that person is picked. After a few rounds of this and seeing others go up I have to admit that even my skeptical ass is entertained. I still think it is plants somehow, or people just wanting to participate so much they go along with whatever is in the show but it is impressive.

As the show continues we get to a space where two beach balls get passed out. The house lights raise and the music starts and I am glad to see it start by flying right over my head. Not even looking where they are going I am shocked when one lands right in my lap. Instinctively I grab it. Before I can toss the music stops. Marissi calls us up on stage. She starts with a middle aged balding man. Some crowd work. We learn his name is Todd and he works in corrections. He is here with his wife and kids. That sort of stuff. She sets him to her side when she comes over to me.

I am embarrassed and shy. She takes my hand and asks my name. "Beth" I respond and I feel that same wave of shivers go over me.

She smiles and stupidly all I can do is think that they were in fact fishnets and they are only thigh high. I am just as bad as mark.

Still with my hand in hers she says "I see you got dressed up for this evening's show." I blush a little. "But" She continues "I can tell it isn't really your thing I could actually see you in your seat earlier like you were thinking 'please don't pick me, pick my friend, she would love it.'"

The crowd laughs at my misfortune but all I can think is "Okay, that was weird" as the wave goes over me.

"It is weird." She says out of nowhere laughing at seemingly nothing. "But what you will find weirder is when I say to you 'of course they are thigh high and you are just as bad as him"

I try not to die of shock and embarrassment standing on stage.

"See" she says "Even for the greatest skeptics, like yourself I will get inside your head." She taps my hand with her thumb as she says joyfully "I will get inside you and you'll love it so much you'll come see me after the show." She winks and the audience laughs.

She has me and Todd stand there with our eyes closed and tells the crowd she is going to give us some non verbal commands. She touches our shoulders. I feel my nerves wave again. Maybe it is embarrassment. Maybe it is her touch. She has us stand back to back. She hands me a piece of paper and pen and tells me to write down the first thing on my mind. Similarly she hands Todd a big whiteboard and tells him to draw the first thing on his mind.

The waves come over my hand like they are pulling them. I am not even sure if it was on my mind or just what my hand wanted to do. It is like that feeling when you are standing on the shore and you can feel the undertow pull at you. Imagine if you let it. Where would it take you? That is what it feels like my hand is doing now. I just write. "Boy on bike with tophat named peter." When he caps his lid she reads my note and tells me to turn around. The crowd goes wild as I see a large drawing of a boy on a bike with a top hat and the label of "peter" under it.

I feel dazed as everyone claps around us. The great Marissi says "That's the first half of the show. We are going to take a break but we will see some more soon." She then escorts us off stage to the backstage area thanking us. Her hand is on my back guiding me and I feel a pulse of excitement.

"But how?" I say.

"That was nothing. Real mind control is a harder thing but a lady never tells her secrets. Thank you so much though you were great. She gives me a wink as I leave the backstage area."

Mark and Suzanne clap for me as I run into them in the lobby standing in line for refreshments. When the second half starts I take my seat still dazed. That wave feeling is still strong.

The show finishes after another hour of me still trying to figure out what happened. Suzanne says "That was awesome. We should go park at home and hit up the Cue Ball."

Not even knowing why I am saying it I say "You guys go ahead. I'm going to be around here and get an uber."

"Really?" Suzanne says shocked. Her shock makes sense she did have to force me to come out tonight.

"Yeah," I say "it's your date night and I don't want to be your third wheel and am not quite feeling like home yet."

We hug in the lobby and part ways. I use the lobby restroom and somehow when I come out the place is almost totally empty. I look at one of the posters and feel that wave sensation over me. I find myself giving into it and meandering down a side hallway with no way to go. I see a sign on a door that says "Stage right. Staff only" I check the handle but it's locked. There is another door that I find and I knock first. A far away voice says "come in."

I opened the door as though pulled to do it. Marissi is in a large, candle lit, dressing room reapplying makeup in a mirror. "Took you long enough. I said after the show not 30 minutes after." She laughs.

"You're not-" I start.

"British? Nope. Guilty. My name isn't Marissi either, it's Mel. Pleasure to formally meet you Beth."

"But you were British." I say.

"Nope" she says matter of factly. "I grew up in Orange County. I went to school for psychology, got interested in mentalism. When I started working small acts I started the British accent because, for some reason, we take people with that accent seriously. I got big but I actually just live about 10 blocks away. It's all just tricks of the mind."

"But. What you said on stage..." I said. Shit was I a believer?

"Just psychology and observation. I had seen you actively avoid the ball. Seeing the person who talked to you get really excited while you weren't, assuming you were friends and she would rather be picked. I said it out loud and it was close enough that you thought I could read your mind."

"But the stockings.." I protest.

"Oh. That is because you aren't very subtle with your eyes getting on stage." I blush "Don't worry," she continues "I am flattered and likewise." I blush deeper.

"Anyway," she continues, "I saw the guy who was with your friend checking you out. He was also not subtle. So I figured you had noticed."

"So, I was right, it is all tricks and accurate guesses." I am a bit annoyed. She had almost convinced me.

"Oh no." She says. "Being a psychic is all tricks and educated guesses. But Hypnosis, and even deeper, mind control, is a very real thing. You felt it right, out there, felt the wave as you were on stage or even coming down here?"

I nod.

"That is your nerves reacting to the fight between an unconscious brain that I have planted an idea like 'come see me after the show' and the conscious brain trying to question it. Part of your unconscious brain has to want to do the thing but you may not even consciously realize that want so you fight it. The bigger the fight, the bigger the wave. True mind control which we don't even explore in my shows is possible. I can get a person to do things or admit things they never would otherwise. But the rule is the same, there needs to be a part of your brain that wants to do the thing deep down."

I'm intrigued. She's intriguing. Of course, that is her job and by the very nature of the conversation and what led me to this door I am skeptical, but in for the ride.

"Do you want to grab a drink or something?" I blurt out. There are no waves so I guess this isn't some hypnosis. Or if it is my conscious brain just really wants it too.

"I would love to," she says "But I never drink between shows."

"Oh, is there a double billing? I didn't see that on the marquee." I am puzzled because it is late.

"No" she says, matter of factly, not giving me more information in spite of my puzzled face.

"So," She says, crossing her legs. I can see the skirt rise up and see the patent leather boots and fishnets working up her thigh. "What did the part of your brain want that got you down here?"

"I just-" I stammered. I want to say that I am lonely and horny, and she is attractive and charismatic but that thinks so simple and feels silly. I look away.

"Hey" She says gently while standing up and walking to me. "It's okay. Remember, I asked you here. I don't know anything about you but I thought it might be fun. Do you want to have fun?"

"Yes." I say.

"Are you sure?" she asks. "My fun can be, umm, unique."

I pause. "I am sure I think."

She laughs "Yes you sound very, very sure." It's cool. You came here to see Magic, didn't you?"

I laugh remembering yelling out "MAGIC" to my roommate.

"Sure, Magic." I say.

"So pick a card." I don't even remember a deck being in her hands but it is there. I grab one and hold it close.

"Oh don't play so coy." She says. "I already know it's a 2 of spades."

"How the fuck did you-"

"That doesn't matter." She responds, chuckling. "What matters is that you stare at it. Put your whole focus there. Let your whole focus be on the numbers and symbols. Everything else tunes out. The room around you gets darker until the only light is emanating from the card that is your only focus. Even the feelings in your body dissipate, the feeling in your toes, fingers, and hands slowly leave you until all you are left with is just the image in front of you. Now sleep."

My eyes fall shut. I find myself in a half dream. I can hear her voice still but it is like it is through a wall. Yet I still feel compelled to answer her. My voice also feels as though it is coming through that same wall. I am distant and not in control.

Through that wall I hear "You said you wanted to come meet me. You now feel compelled to tell me why."

There is the slightest of that wave feeling as I hear my own voice calmly and flatly say "I wanted you."

"And what did you want from me?" She asks as the wave feeling picks up.

"I want you to touch me." I find myself saying.

I feel a touch on my arm. But even that feeling feels distant. Like the softest pet through thick velvet.

"I would like that too. How do you want to be touched and how do you want to touch me? What is that inner need holding back?" The waves increase. I can feel my body fighting the urge to speak as in front of me as though a dream made by smoke I can see things playing out before me. Some are my known fantasies but they quickly change into other places before me. The images are from a deeper place in my brain. One I don't allow myself to go often. I am almost ashamed of these fantasies.

"I want your hands on my body" I can hear myself saying, narrating the images in my head. "I don't know you but I want to submit to you, to your hands. I want your fingers in me. I want to taste you. I want you to make me taste you." The waves pick up as we go deeper. "I want to feel used by you. You can slap me or hurt me. You can use your fingers, toys, and your hands. Whatever you want."

"And..." she says, leading. I feel the waves pick up. Like I am being pulled deep underwater now. I don't want to admit these things but they come out of me.

My flat voice does not convey the desire I have for her or the distress I have in saying these things. "I see you dragging me onto the empty stage. But the theater is full. You fuck me, or make me fuck someone in front of you if it give you pleasure. Just use me."

There is a snap and my eyes open. She is sitting back in her chair looking at me with a big smile on her face. Behind her I can see my own reflection and am mortified. In my hands, neatly folded in a pile, are all of my clothing. Part of me wants to run in shame. Part of me wants to stay. I move a foot closer to the door but it just stays as the waves roll over me.

"You may place your things down on the table." She says to me with a grin.

My body obeys walking to the table on my right and setting it down. The feeling is surreal. All of my senses work. I can feel the cloth in my hand, the cool air on my naked skin, the cold tile under my feet. I can feel myself moving. But it is like I am a spectator in my own body.

As I deposit my clothing on the table Mel is suddenly next to me. Her hand reaches out to my wrist as she gently moves her finger tips up my arm. Her hand at my shoulder now moves slowly down as she firmly grabs my breast.

Internally I want to gasp. The erotic familiarity of her touch drives my nerves wild. But outside I am a mannequin. Not moving, totally still. She slowly steps around me. Behind me I can hear the sound of clothing. Suddenly she is pressed behind me. I can feel the warmth of her naked skin pressed against my back.

Behind me she says "Imagine a tight rope wrapping itself around your wrists. It brings them together as it is pulled tighter and tighter." My hands get closer and closer together as the waves continue to pulse through my body. Finally they are locked at the writs. "You can move your fingers freely but your hands are now bound. Now imagine the rope is stretched to the ceiling pulling your hands up." My hands slowly move upward. It is like they are tethered to the ceiling by some invisible string.

I feel her hands come around me. One grabs my breast again. The other makes its way down my hip. The hand at my breast pinches my nipple hard. I let out a shriek but nothing happens. My mouth remains closed. I don't even flinch.

Her other hand makes its way between my legs. A single finger parts my labia running back and forth until it starts to gently circle my clit. I let out a moan but nothing happens again.

"There are so many ways I can touch you." She says backing away from me. I can feel her presence behind me. "I can touch you softly or I can be hard." A hand comes down firmly on my ass. The loud crack of skin hitting skin fills the room. It followed in quick succession to a slap on the other cheek. I want to yell out or to even be able to bite my lip. But I find myself unable to do either. I am like a naked statue with her hands in the air. Her fingers move slowly between my ass cheeks. Working their way down until she has found my clit again from behind and working slowly back. The feeling of pleasure as she touches my skin pulses through me.

"If it is the truth" Mel says, her mouth an inch from my ear, "you may speak it. Did you like that?"

It feels as though my jaw, tongue, and mouth are unlocked. "Yes!" I blurt out.

"What did you like?" She asks as more of a command.

"I like when you grab me. When you pinch me. It excites me when you slap me." Why am I saying this? Why am I being so blunt? "I like it when your fingers rub my clit or the feeling I get when they move over my asshole."

"Move your hands down" She commands and I obey. I feel five quick slaps on my ass. The mix of pleasure and pain moves through me. "You will feel everything. But you are not allowed to cum until I say. You may now move freely as long as the movement is to follow my command. You will find if it is not your body will be unable. Now sit on the chair."

In front of me there is a chair. Like one of those cheap plastic chairs you might see in a waiting room or a hotel conference rooms. No arm rests or even the pretense of comfort. As I turn to sit in it I get a good view of Mel in front of me. Her long hair is pulled up. She is totally naked except for her thigh high stockings and boots. She is one of the most striking figures I have ever seen.