He worked the crowd with his eyes, surfing for his next delicious conquest. Thousands of faces looked up expectantly at him as the silence he had only just created hung in the air, the silence that follows a call for "help from someone in the audience!" and invariably results in one lucky - or unlucky - watcher climbing up to the stage to raucous applause and cheering. He scanned his audience, already hooked on his every motion, exactly as he wanted them to be. He swung about, an actor to a tee, checking first here, then far over there, seeking high and low. He found his target quickly, spying the soft face and flowing red hair above what looked to be a delectable blue dress. He played it up, summoning her from her seat, and although she was timid about it, she did make her way to the side of the stage to join him. He grinned malevolently, watching her with relish as she approached. She was cute; his eye never let him down. Tall already but lengthier in those heels, the dress was far nicer than he'd initially thought - it was dark blue, stitched all over with glittering sequins and patterns. It didn't take him long to recognize that it was crafted in the image of the Starry Night, and he licked his upper lip as he gazed along the curving sequin-and-stud lines that happened to point directly to her crotch.
Smiling from ear to ear, he showed her off, taking her hand in his, holding it up high and twirling her for all to see, her dress swinging. He drank her in as he played her to the crowd, their thundering cheers egging them on more and more. Her curves were exhilarating, her backside bubbling her dress, the upper portions sliding around her chest without sag or sway.
'Hello, my dear.' he breathed as she came out of the spin. The crowd were still calling and screaming. 'Let's have a little fun together, shall we?' Her shy face didn't aim towards him as she avoided his gaze, but he didn't let her get off easily. She smiled weakly at the crowd as he stared right into her skin. Then, ever the performer, the magician turned to his crowd and fanned at her with his arms outstretched as if showing off a possession or prize. Then, with a wave, his new scene began. The crowd were bathed in the melding pink-purple lights that were his whole brand, and he guided his prey to the row of chairs arranged in the centre of his stage.
He was Gill Del A'mari Faraghi, a world-renowned magician and hypnotist. No one did it better than Gill; crowds poured their sentiments in, posting videos and photos and praise for months after he'd visited their city. Women yearned after his dashing dark looks, men envied his skill and easy confidence, the press couldn't write enough about his shows. Even his competition signed up to join his act when it travelled, and even then, they were never allowed to play on the night he performed. He only had a few simple, if strange rules; he performed each city once and once alone. He never allowed live cameras to stream his shows. And he always - ALWAYS - had guests from the crowd. It was practically a feature now, like a tennis star's grunting or a wrestler's intro. Wherever Gill performed, you knew you could be called onto stage.
There was only one thing the world hadn't seemed to quite cotton onto yet, perhaps due to his show's particularly tight rules around recording and streaming - his guests were almost
exclusively
attractive women.
Gill led her to the chair, and she took it uncertainly. Already beside her, two more women sat, both with their heads slumped. She was next; she knew it was coming, yet somehow couldn't find it in herself to feel scared, worried, or even particularly concerned. She couldn't know it, but she was under the effects of the magician's magical atmosphere already, as was the rest of the crowd; specially designed lighting, very specific audio and even special scents and mists pumped into the air through the smoke machines all played their part together to put Gill's fanatic crowd in a malleable, suggestible state. It wasn't hypnosis - they were conscious and responding genuinely to his act, but it was close, just enough to help guide them towards what he wanted them to see and think and feel and do. It helped, too, that this state was perfect for ensuring any attractive young lady he spied out would indeed join him on stage and let him perform on her.
'Ladies and Gentlemen!' Gill shouted out, his voice booming as he took front and centrer ahead of her. She watched him from behind, watched the way the entire crowd was lit in shimmering pink and purple, a waving, waxing sea of tinged faces, white and dark all glittering back the pink-purple glow of the lights as if every one of them were holding up small torches side by side. 'Now, for the portion of the show all of you have desperately been waiting for!' He said with gusto. 'For the performances of your lifetime! For that which makes Gill Del A'mari Faraghi De La Grande Magiciania famous, the
world over!'
He cried out, naming both himself and his performance, his native accent tinging the phrasing. It was iconic.
'Men, women, boys and girls above de most very legal age; THE HYPNOSIS PERFORMANCE!'