Hypnotist

(I never wrote a mind control story before, so I thought what the heck? Why not?}

+++

How did I end up there? I was happy as a clam in butter sauce before, how could I not be? Now things had gone basically all to shit.

The cops did mercifully take off the handcuffs before the door slammed shut with a very final sounding "clang."

+++

Kirsten had said yes when I asked her to marry me, actually a surprise.

I knew that I loved her by then but even though we necked and petted, she just would not go all the way. I was sort of willing to wait, she was stunning, beautiful.

Her body was so slender and sleek, she never seemed to even notice that most men turned into stammering idiots around her. Include me in that mix, I wanted her desperately.

Hell, some women turned into stammering idiots around her.

So while I did accept the wait, I also tried. Lord did I try.

Nothing I attempted worked, I could play with her and pet her, but the slightest sign of trying to unfasten any clothing, or reach underneath anything she wore was met with an instant "NO!"

I even asked her once, long after we had tried everything a person could imagine from just plain fun to downright kinky, why she insisted on waiting to have sex. I asked because once we did it that first night she wanted to do it all the time. There were no inhibitions at all after that.

We had just finished an amazing session, I had walked in the door and set down my lunch pail from my job building homes at the company the bank and I owned. She came in and said, "Hi, Honey!" and began to more or less molest me.

That was the day I asked her why she had chosen to wait. She had one hand between her legs making squishing sounds and had her lips gently teasing my left nipple at the time. Her other hand was between my legs, tickling my testicles with her fingertips. She did that a lot in the aftermath of our lovemaking.

That sounds like a rather awkward position but when you realize she worked out and also did gymnastics, Kirsten could scratch herself behind the ear with her big toes.

Both at once. I would tease her that I was going to grab our cheap camera and get some photos when she did that, both of us giggling hilariously but she wouldn't let me.

Her answer to my question was simple.

"Mom told me to wait, she said I had to be pure on my wedding night. She told me that to the right man it was more precious than Gold."

For Kirsten, it actually was that simple. To her, I was the right man.

The other thing I noticed is she never seemed to understand much, having a chat about anything at all ended up without fail in a series of questions. If I asked her to balance the checkbook, she would look at me blank and there was a good chance I would find it later, sitting on something, teetering.

That's an exaggeration of course, but if she did try to make it come out even she just could not.

Decimal points? She wasn't sure what they were for. $0.51 was a dollar and $0.49 wasn't.

What she did do was write everything down carefully in her perfect little handwriting. Her notations looked like she had typed them out.

When she did any math at all, everything came out to round numbers.

Unless she was cooking. Cook? My God, could she cook! Her Mother wrote down the recipes, without fail Kirsten got out the little book, followed every step, right down to the fraction of a teaspoon for seasoning, timing it to the second. She had a little tool that she used measuring.

Interestingly, her Mother's handwritten recipes all looked to be typed out, also.

I remember her Dad making a wisecrack one day about Kirsten being probably from the mailman after she made one of her strange comments about something.

I defended her by telling him the mailman sure did a damn fine job. He just grinned at me.

I noticed her Mother laughed out loud at that one.

When we got a computer, I set up an email address for her. One day she mentioned that nobody ever emailed her, so I went in to check because I started getting ads in mine within 5 minutes of signing up my own. We were on dial up, she had never dialed in. I tried to explain that, she got down and looked underneath the desk.

"The wires are all hooked up? Why won't it just work?" She asked.

"It's like the stove, you have to turn it on first even though it's always hooked up." I told her.

"Oh." Was all she said, but from the blank look she got on her face I knew she still didn't get it.

I gave up on that. When I opened her email box (with the password 1234) she had a few hundred spam emails.

I was in the process of deleting them when she asked me to stop.

"Why?"

"You aren't supposed to open other people's mail!" Kirsten told me.

"It's spam!" I told her.

She looked at me like I was making a joke, she knew what spam was. She sometimes chopped that up and mixed it with Mayo and sweet pickle relish to make sandwiches.

Yes, her Mother had that written down for her, too.

Kirsten could make spam taste good.

There were lots of things like that, but you get the picture. I just assumed that upstairs Kirsten was not blessed, little did I know the truth of all of that, though.

She was a natural beauty on the outside, yet appeared to be a bit less smart than a box of rocks on the inside. Some people would not be able to stand that, I was deliriously happy with her. She completely doted on me, every single waking minute of every single day.

If I said I liked Ham, or anything at all, that was for dinner the next day, without fail. If I said I liked a certain outfit, she had it on when I got home.

Our house? Perfect, she got down on her hands and knees and looked for any dirt, I am serious. I came home one afternoon to find her sitting cross legged on the floor underneath our antique kitchen table, carefully washing the legs of it. She was using a pink toothbrush, she knew I wouldn't touch it so she always grabbed those out of the package for house cleaning tools.

Kirsten even washed and shined my work boots, which got me no end of kidding at work when I showed up with those.

"Jeee..sus, boss! Yer blindin' us here!" My crew teased me, all of them covering their eyes.

I did ask her to not do that so for three whole days she didn't.

But then she forgot and did it again. I just hid them from her, that worked well. As wonderful and happy as everything was in our lives meant that minor little things like polished work boots was no big deal.

+++

Now here I sat, in a jail cell.

The trouble all came when Ken and Marsha moved into the house next door. At first, everything was just fine. Marsha was a short, slightly chubby and overly bubbly little brunette, the complete opposite of Kirsten in every respect.

So they fit together like a hand and a glove, became as close to inseparable as it is possible to be while still living in different houses.

Ken was a showman, he had some silly act and he really did quite well with it. He was also good looking and well dressed, just part of his act that ran over into his personal life.

Everything had to be just so, even in a pullover shirt and shorts he looked well dressed.

You didn't want to play cards for money with the guy, he could make things appear and then vanish right before our eyes. One day he was talking to me, then he grinned at me and handed me my wristwatch. That was a surprise, I had no idea how he did that and said so, then he handed me my wallet.

How he got my wallet out of my hip pocket while standing in front of me is beyond me. I assumed he had probably done that earlier, but for the life of me I could not bring the moment to mind.

It was fun to watch at parties, though. Normally he was on the road, doing his thing, then he would be back for a few days and then gone again.

Kirsten surprised me one evening after Marsha had dropped her off from a joint shopping trip by asking what an "Opened up" marriage meant.

"Opened up?" I asked, it took me a moment to understand.

"Yes, she says that Ken is sometimes gone for a long time so he has girl friends because they are opened up."

"OH! An..open relationship? I didn't know they were that way, I never even thought about it." I told her.

"She says he has sex with other woman sometimes, I think that's what she means. Isn't that wrong?" Her comment was so innocent it was almost funny.

"I guess it's a lifestyle thing, I never really understood that but if they are happy, that's all that matters."

"Yes, I suppose so. But they are married and married people can't do that."

"I don't think it's a matter of can't, I think it's a matter of not supposed to." I told her.

"Could you ever do anything like that? I mean, if we were opened up?"

"No, I don't think so, I am pretty happy with just you and me." I answered.

"I guess it would be like not being married then. Did you ever do sex with anyone before we started going out?"

Caught by surprise with that one, my mind flashed back to a very drunken beach party and a 3 minute session on a blanket with some girl that was there. It was something I had forgotten about and for the life of me I couldn't remember her name.

"Well. I....." Was as far as I got.

"Oh." She got an odd little smirk on her face, then she went into the kitchen.

Later, after one of Kirsten's amazing dinners, I was curious.

"Does Marsha..you know..have boyfriends..lovers? I mean while Ken is gone?"

"She didn't really say, except I guess that Ken told her it was all right. She told me it's because he wants to have sex every single night, and sometimes he is gone for weeks at a time doing his show."

I blinked at that.

"Every night?"

"Yes. Do you want to do it every night? That seems like a lot to me." She asked.

"No, not really. We have a good sex life. What about you, do you want to make love every night?"

"Only if you want to, honey." She told me.

After that, I kept an eye on Marsha when she was around, but I never saw anything that would give me a reason to suspect. I saw no men arriving or leaving at odd times, in fact, I never even saw Marsha leave except on weekends for shopping trips, and most of the time Kirsten was with her. I knew damn good and well there was nothing going on when Kirsten was with her, for one thing I could set my watch by my wife. For another, if anything did happen differently Kirsten would just tell me about it, or ask one of her odd questions.

But I couldn't imagine Marsha even mentioning that to Kirsten unless she was feeling her out or something.

I even thought of speaking with Marsha about it, but how does a person do that? I knew I would be completely uncomfortable discussing someone's sex life with them, friends or not. It was best to just let that be.

The parties continued, that never even came up again. There were several other couples that were around from time to time, but everything was perfectly innocent.

As far as I could tell, anyway. Sure, I saw dancing and even a few hands drifting around from time to time but I had seen things like that all the time at parties.

One thing I did notice is that Ken was always full of tricks, he did things like unhook a woman's bra without them knowing about it, he used his hands constantly to touch arms, things like that.

I had figured it all was just part of his act, he distracted people with one hand while doing something with the other. More than one woman would find herself with her halter top unfastened, it was always good for a roar from everyone when they finally noticed. Rings somehow were slipped off of fingers, necklaces came unhooked and appeared in his hand.

He never touched Kirsten, though, not one time that I ever saw and I kept an eye on him after what she had told me.

One evening I came home to find Kirsten all excited. She told me that Marsha had mentioned Ken was booked into a club downtown and she wanted to go see his act. She even had free tickets, hell, we could afford that.

I told her fine, she clapped her hands together and ran off to get ready.

Four hours early.

I guess I was used to things like that.

Kirsten had been out shopping a couple of days earlier, Marsha helped her pick out an outfit. It was a pale Orange color, nearly peach I guess. Off the shoulder on one side, with a single strap on the other. The upper portion was waistless, about even to the top of her pubic hair it flared out in ruffles.

She showed it to me, holding it up. It was completely unlike anything Kirsten would ever pick for herself, or even wear. I told her it was beautiful, and asked her to try it on for me.

"Wow!" I said when she walked out. It really was made for her, the only bad part was she had on her white bra underneath it. Of course that meant the strap on one side showed, so did the strap around the back since it was cut low, almost to her hip line in the rear.

"You can't wear that with that bra." I told her.

"But you said I should always wear one." She answered. I guess I had told her that, I really didn't like the idea of other men looking at her nipples much.

"I meant when you have on a blouse or T-shirt, this is an evening gown, you can't wear it with the bra sticking out like that."

"Oh. OK." She got the funny little smirk on her face again, then giggled. She took off the bra, folded it carefully, went and put it away in the drawer and came back out.

The effect was amazing, she stood there waiting for my reaction and all I could do was try to catch a breath. It wasn't transparent really, what it was was form hugging. Even her navel showed clear as a bell.

I liked it but I wasn't too sure I wanted her to be out in public like that because the material made her nipples look pronounced. It also showed her belly and the material stretched, so it made the upper portion of the "V" between her legs obvious.

She was covered, and actually only looked sexy as hell, so I finally decided it would be OK. I even went over and lifted the hem, taking a peek.

That got another giggle out of Kirsten and then a smokey look. I let the hem drop, if this kept up there was no way in hell we were going to make it to any show.

She had on a matching thong, and I could see she wasn't used to it because she kept reaching back and tugging at the rear of it.

The gown wasn't ridiculous like some I had seen so I thought it would be all right. The thong was perfectly parallel at the top of the frilly fringe, and since the color matched it didn't show. Where the material stretched across her lower abdomen below her navel, it gave a peekaboo effect. Combined with being blessed with a mild sway back and nice round fanny, the look in that dress was spectacular.

Kirsten put on a short soft jacket she had, it was a light brown and that looked nice, and it covered up what her gown made obvious, so I was unconcerned when we walked into the club.

Our seats were great, right up close to the stage. Marsha arrived and sat on the other side of me.

The lights came on, there was music and several extremely scantily clad women prancing around. The outfits were surprising, I didn't think they were really intended to be worn on a raised stage with floor lights down low in the front. They were tiny and covered with something that sparkled in the light, even the tops of the outfits were tiny. Two of the dancers were bare breasted, wearing just tiny little pasties that also sparkled in the lights. I realized that the dancer's outfits were fairly thick, so instead of staying in place when they moved, they slipped back and forth just a little.

It was all enough to make a person think they saw something but never quite sure of it. They all had on fishnet type stockings so that helped cover them a little bit.

Ken's show was sexy as hell.

As the dancers did their bawdy routines, I knew I was getting glimpses of way more than was supposed to show, but then they all had to be shaved so it was hard to tell.

I guess I have to admit that I found it rather exciting if the reaction I was feeling was any indication.

"His dancers look very naughty!" Kirsten whispered to me. Marsha overheard that, she just giggled.

Then Ken came out and did some of his tricks. There were clouds of smoke, and flashing lights, all designed to distract the audience from what he was doing, of course.

I was concentrating, trying to catch him as first he did some tricks with cards, next he had birds appearing in his hands. But it was impossible to see how he did any of it, he was far too good at it.

Right on cue as he did one of his little tricks the dancers would be doing cartwheels off to the side. That made it very hard to watch Ken to try and see what he was really doing, my eyes would always be drawn to them when they did that.

At one point he was twirling what looked like a big wire cage with lights on it, that appeared to be tough to do all by itself, then he set it down on the stage. He turned to the audience, there was a flash and huge cloud of smoke, suddenly a different woman in a long black evening gown was standing inside the cage.

It was one hell of a show, I thought. I could see why he was always booked solid.

Next he called for "volunteers", several hands went up.

This part was a joke, I was sure, because of course all of the so called "volunteers" would be in on the act.

I was floored when he looked over at us and asked Kirsten to come up, along with several others. She bashfully didn't want to but I was now curious as hell, I encouraged her. She got up reluctantly, her face bright red and went up there.

There were two other women and three men, Ken was talking to them and doing something with his hands, they all appeared to be sleepy, then he said something in the ear of each one as he went down the line.

The man on the end held up his arms and shouted out that he was the "King of the World" then he began to do jumping jacks. The crowd was laughing, the next man starting flapping his arms and crowing, the last one was on his hands and knees barking.

When he got to the women the first one shook her upper body back and forth, she was best described as admirably endowed although matronly, I couldn't help but snicker at that one.

The other woman began to try and stand on her tiptoes like a ballerina, she couldn't quite do it but she sure did make an effort.

Kirsten just stood there.

Soon the crowd was roaring at all of the antics, Ken waved his arm and snapped his fingers and everyone on the stage stopped. He stepped up to each one and whispered something. One by one they filed off down the steps, looking red faced.

Except for Kirsten.

She still just stood there, looking confused. Ken had said nothing to her. I saw Ken seem to hesitate, then with a big grin he stepped up to her, whispered in her ear.

She reached up and slid her jacket off, one of the dancers twirled by and took it. Kirsten began to do what appeared to be a rather violent gogo type dance. I was shocked, the lights flooding the stage made her breasts appear almost naked, the matching thong she had on was coming into view in glimpses.

I started to come out of my seat, but Marsha who was sitting next to me reached out with a hand. She put it on my leg.

"He is just having fun, Danny. Ken always picks the prettiest woman in the place for this part."

I sat back down, Kirsten by then had stopped and was just standing there. Ken walked up behind her, and whispered in her ear again. He spoke to her quite a bit longer than he had the others. A dancer spun by and gracefully handed Kirsten her jacket, which she slipped back on. She suddenly looked embarrassed, then she walked down off the stage to thunderous applause.

"That was different." I told her the moment she sat down.

"He couldn't hypnotize me, he said some people just can't be and he thanked me."