Prologue
"This is insane," Seb whispered, his heart beating so loud he swore the entire library could hear it.
The girl on her knees in front of him let out a dreamy murmur of assent, her half-lidded gaze fixed on the rigid cock she was extracting from his jeans.
"Is this real? Y-you're not just messing with me right? You're actually going to—" He tensed, the rest of his question lost as the warmth of her mouth enveloped him. He forced himself to check the darkened aisle for spectators, hard as it was to tear his gaze away from the bombshell blonde bobbing her head dutifully on his cock, her top messily raised over her pale breasts.
"W-wait, stop," Seb managed to gasp through a fog of arousal and adrenaline.
She gradually obeyed, her brow furrowing in concern. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Am I not doing it right?"
"No, nothing's wrong," Seb quickly assured her. Well, technically, there was a whole lot wrong with this situation, but now wasn't the time to go into that. "I just, um, need to check: how are you feeling?"
The question seemed to puzzle his subject. She sat back, blinked. "Um...good, I guess." Her eyes were starting to refocus. "I mean...it's like it was before. I think. But, uh..." She looked around, as though just now recognizing that she was kneeling half-undressed in the graduate library.
The cool silence was bringing Seb back to his senses as well. "M-maybe we should stop for now," he muttered. "I think we've, uh, proven the point."
But to his surprise, this suggestion only caused her to crawl forward, eyes gazing up into his. "Are you sure that's what you want...Master?" she breathed with a sly smile, sticking her tongue out just enough to graze his still-prominent erection.
In that moment, Seb recognized that this wasn't the tranced-out subject he was commanding just seconds earlier. This was Chelsea Jaeger, the queen of the quad, in full control of her senses, asking to suck his cock.
Once again, Seb found himself uttering the same phrase again; the words that had been passing his lips over and over since the variety show; since the night that changed everything; since Sophia had come back into his life.
"This is insane."
Part 1
Seb blinked rapidly as he stepped up onto the raised platform. Even without a spotlight, he was paralyzed by the crowd's blinding stares, trapped with nowhere to run.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. This was a stupid student variety show in a small, university dining hall; most of the people here were more focused on their food than him. He shouldn't be this nervous. All he had to do was not be a colossal fuck-up, and Miki would be happy.
"Alright, next up: please put your hands together for Sebastian the Sensational!" Miki announced. Seb winced. He had told her no stage names. How had she roped him into this again?
"H-hello everyone," Seb waved awkwardly to scattered applause. "Um. Today I'll be putting on a little hypnosis show for you. Or, uh, if all goes well, you'll be putting it on for me." He smiled weakly. The truth was, it would be amazing if he could even get his subject into trance. Despite all his practice, the most Seb had managed was to get Miki to follow some basic suggestions, and even that was after hours of trial-and-error. For this act, Seb had twenty minutes.
"First, of course, I'll need a volunteer," Seb cast his eyes across the dining hall, searching for one of the club members Miki had said would be good subjects. All hypnosis was self-hypnosis, after all—the more open his partner was to the act, the smoother it would go.
But then he saw her. Front and to the left: stylish blonde hair and eyes that twinkled mischievously as they met his gaze. He had stared at her plenty of times during class, but this was the first time he felt her staring back. His pulse instantly quickened, and without thinking he blurted out her name.
"Chelsea."
The instant Seb had uttered it, he knew he had screwed up. Chelsea was not in the theater club, and she definitely hadn't come to the dining hall to see a variety show. As she stood up and shot an ironic wink to the girl she had been sitting with, Seb's stomach dropped. She wasn't volunteering to be a hypnotic subject; she was volunteering to make a fool of him.
But it was too late now: she was already stepping up to the platform. Seb swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "I, um, I didn't know you went for this sort of thing."
"Oh, I don't, she replied with a wicked smirk. "But college is for experimentation, right?" The audience chuckled. God she was so pretty. Athletic, but with a perfectly-proportioned curves that still showed even in a t-shirt and sweats. Honestly, she was more liable to hypnotize him than the other way around.
"Great. Well, um, to start, I'll n-need your hand," Seb waited awkwardly as Chelsea hesitated, then complied. "Okay, thank you," he nodded, wrapping his hand around hers. "N-now I'm going to do what's called a shock, or instant induction, okay?"
The theory was simple: overwhelm the subject with stimuli and then shock them into falling into a trance. In practice, it was a lot more complicated. Seb had to move quickly through the steps, ensuring his partner didn't have a chance to process what was happening. Which was easier said than done when the mere feeling of her skin against his sent a spike of nerves through his stomach.
And then there was the problem of his voice.
Seb hated his voice. It was fine normally, but anytime he got nervous or excited, his throat clenched up, leaving his words cracked and strained. Most hypnotists cultivated a particular voice when trancing a subject, a deep, soothing intonation that would inspire feelings of trust and relaxation.
But not Seb.
"N-now I want you to focus on the senSAtions in your r-right arm," he stammered as he began to shake Chelsea's hand up and down. "Okay, um. N-now bring your eyes o-over...over..."
"Is everything okay?" Chelsea asked with a bemused tilt of her head.
Goddammit. It was happening already. The tight feeling in his neck, the fight to just put one syllable in front of the other. Seb shut his eyes, trying to refocus. He had to project confidence. He had to...
"Uh, you were saying something about my eyes?" Chelsea asked, impatient.
Shit. He was losing it. "Uh, over here," he said, raising his free hand. "Just, watch m-my h-hand as it...moves in f-front of your gaze. A-and, um, keep focusing on your arm as you...Sl-SLEep!" He barely managed to choke out the final command as he tugged her arm forward. In an ideal world, this would have sent her falling into a trance, ready to be guided into a state of deep hypnosis and suggestibility.
But of course, all he got from Chelsea was a startled yelp of surprise. "Whoa! What the hell?"
"Uh, sorry. I mean. Try to refOCus on my hand, and UH, um, aaahh...Sl-sleep!" He pulled on her arm again. This time, she barely moved, just gave him a look like he was out of his mind.
The audience was starting to chuckle now. Some of them were averting their eyes in embarrassment. Seb looked off-stage to where Miki was sitting, hoping she would cut the act short.
And that's when he saw her.
There, in the far end of the dining hall, hovering by the exit. Despite not seeing her in years, Seb recognized Sophia in an instant: her messy black hair that always seemed to fall just right around her shy, round features; her black-framed glasses and large, thoughtful eyes; her full lips and small-yet-voluptuous body. The last time they had spoken, she had broken his heart. And now she was here, watching him fall to pieces again in front of everyone.
No.
Not this time.
As Seb's breath caught. Something inside of him clicked. A dam in the back of his mind opened, and a wave of calm, focused energy cascaded through his body, soaking his parched throat and easing his stiff muscles.
"
Sleep,"
he commanded Chelsea.
A flicker off shock passed over her face. Then her pupils rolled back, her eyelids fluttered, and she obeyed.
____________________________
Chelsea was having a bad night.
