More Power Of Suggestion 03

This is not a 'hard-core,' mind control story, no mindless zombie like, helpless woman being made to do something against her will. Just a little light hypnosis to influence a sensual woman into doing something she may well have done anyway. Perhaps a little reluctantly to begin with, but the gentle hand of hypnotic suggestion can help to break the ice and lead her in the right direction.

About six months into my 'apprenticeship,' with Charlie, I met Jane. Somehow when people think of the name Jane, in their minds they add 'plain.' Maybe that's just in the UK of course, I can't speak for the rest of the English speaking world. It's even become an insult, and people refer to some women as a 'plain Jane,' meaning an unremarkable looking woman with connotations of being frumpy and dowdy too.

Well, let me tell you that the Jane I met would blow all that preconceived shit right out of the water. I'll just say that she was beautiful, five foot seven if she was an inch, slim, but with curves where any man (or woman) would want them to be. Nothing too 'in your face,' though, no double D's here, but she looked like she had something worth seeing, and as soon as I saw her, I wanted to see more. She turned out to be clever, very, very intelligent with a great sense of humour, and best of all she seemed totally unaware of just how wonderful she was. She just 'sparkled.'

Her face wasn't perfect, but it was beautiful. Clear sparkling blue eyes that seemed to draw you in when she turned her gaze upon you, a sensual full lipped mouth that you dreamed of kissing, a strong determined chin. Her nose, although not big, was a little on the long side, which actually gave her face some essential 'character,' which true beauty requires, in my opinion. A face that's too perfect can appear very bland, and holds no attraction for me. Her hair was shoulder length, not quite straight, but with just enough curl, and body in it to give her that naturally glamorous look. She was fiercely intelligent, and for me that was the final touch. I love intelligent women, no dumb but beautiful women for me thank you.

I had picked her out from the audience as a 'volunteer,' for our stage hypnosis show, and I know now in retrospect, it was one of the best choices I made over the months I'd been working with Charlie Sanderson, my boss. Charlie, as I've said in previous stories was an amazing hypnotist, a real old time showbiz performer. He knew just about everything there was to know about hypnotism and how to make it work onstage to entertain his audience.

He'd been giving me an intensive course on hypnotism over the months, and I was a very attentive listener, and somehow seemed to soak it up. He said I was a 'natural,' and when he saw my enthusiasm and thirst for knowledge he redoubled his efforts until after a few months he declared that I could most probably run the whole show in his place. Eventually of course that was what happened a couple of years later.

Charlie, unknown to me, had been diagnosed with a terminal illness about six months after I joined him as his assistant. Being older the docs had told him it was not a virulent form of cancer, more a slow progression, so he had plenty of time to put his affairs in order. One part of which, was to hand everything over to me when he finally retired. I inherited his show, his contacts, his theatrical agents, his future bookings, the works, but that was years away at the time of this story..

We came to a mutually agreeable financial settlement as well for me to take over the show. I would pay him ten percent of the takings for the next two years, after which our agreement would end, and the act would be entirely my own. Since he had thousands of pounds worth of bookings in the diary I was happy with it, and we shook hands on it and that was that. No paperwork, just a handshake, a 'gentleman's agreement.'

Just a little more back ground to set the scene for you before we get into the main part of the story. We had been booked to perform at a theatre in a big city in North East England. It was the usual evening show, but this time we were doing what is known in the business as a 'matinee,' show in the afternoon too. These only take place on Saturday afternoons because it's a none working day for most people, and on another day we just wouldn't get the audience.

The added impetus was that the proceeds from the matinee performance was going to a local charity, so we were expecting a big audience, We weren't disappointed and the theatre was almost full to capacity.

Anyway, enough of the scene setting and history of how I became a stage hypnotist, and back to the beautiful Jane, who I had persuaded to get onstage as a volunteer, or a victim, as some people might see it. As I've said before, I always try to get at least two or three attractive women to volunteer.

Everybody in the advertising world knows that 'sex sells,' which is why magazines nearly always have photos of stunningly beautiful women on the cover. Even women prefer to see a good looking woman on the cover of a magazine. It may be aspirational on their part, wanting to look good as the model, or it may be something else, even something sexual on occasion.

Who knows? Does it matter, and who cares, it's a fact. Consequently, I know that a few good looking women onstage makes the appearance of the show more attractive to an audience. Not only that, but it quite often gave a me a very attractive choice of partner for the evening if things went the way I hoped they would.

Jane, by any stretch of the imagination was outstanding. She looked amazing, and from the reaction, cheers and whistles when she got up on stage, the rest of the audience thought so too. She was wearing a very nice sparkly top with a shortish skirt, just above the knee, and high heel shoes, nothing in your face sexy, but with Jane it didn't need to be. She was the, 'sexy,' part of the outfit. The girl was, 'sex on legs.'

Charlie went through his preamble which was designed as a selection process to weed out the less responsive volunteers. Some people just don't want to be hypnotised, and we don't have time to fuck about with them, the show is slick, and fast moving. They are quickly weeded out leaving a core group who are happy to be there, and more easily hypnotised. I was delighted that Jane was selected, because quite naturally I was no different from anybody else in the theatre. I wanted to know her better!

I was looking forward to the sexy part of the show, where Jane would think she wanted to fuck me senseless, and it couldn't come quickly enough for me. Charlie took his volunteers through a series of hilarious scenarios which was going down well with the audience, and then we got to the sex part of the show.

Charlie would have the hypnotised volunteers sitting on chairs across the stage, about ten or twelve of them, and at this part of the show they were all, 'asleep,' although of course they aren't actually sleeping, they are hypnotised and on 'stand-bye,' like your TV, or computer.

He would select a woman, one at a time, and tell them under hypnosis that when he said the word 'handsome,' they would find me irresistible and become desperate to have sex with me. Next he would tell them when he said the word, 'ugly,' they would find me the most disgusting, smelly, and repulsive man they'd ever encountered. Once that was implanted, he would go on to have a seemingly casual conversation with them, asking them if they were okay, were they enjoying the show, etc.

Next he would draw their attention to me, standing a few feet away, and introduce me to them. To the audience of course they just looked normal and were behaving normally, they didn't look zombie-like or any of the pre-conceived notions of the hypnotised. They would acknowledge my presence and smile towards me because it's the perfectly natural thing to do.

'What do you think of him, do you fancy him?' he would say. Usually of course, they were pretty non-committal, but the answers varied from, 'not my type,' to 'oh yes, I like him,' but the most usual answer was a nonchalant, 'he looks okay.' Not exactly enthusiastic, but that would change dramatically in a moment or two.

'Just okay?' Charlie would repeat, and they'd confirm that with him and Charlie would say something like. 'You know, most women find him irresistible, they want to take him to bed and do very naughty things with him,' he would declare. They would shake their heads and protest they didn't think that at all. Of course that was in front of an audience and it was the natural thing for them to deny it anyway, especially with friends or relatives in the audience.

'So you don't fancy him at all,' he would say, drawing it out a little more and invariably they would deny any attraction.'

'Oh look you've hurt his feelings now,' Charlie would say, getting the audience to give a collective, 'Aaawww,' of sympathy as if they cared about my hurt feelings. The woman would look at me and apologise, while I stood there looking very upset, almost about to cry.

'You see,' Charlie would say, 'he's having trouble getting a girlfriend.' Another 'Aawww,' from the audience. 'Women just don't find him very handsome,' and as soon as he said the trigger word, they would forget Charlie and march the few short steps to where I was. They would gaze adoringly into my eyes, and no matter what I did to fend them off, they would come onto me even stronger.

The would embrace me, holding me in their arms, making it obvious they needed to have sex with me, and they needed it right this instant. The audience thought it was hilarious. I'd look at Charlie for help as I tried to keep them at arm's length, but a woman determined to have sex with me was difficult to deal with. They're stronger than you may think, and they'd be pleading with me, touching me, sometimes what you may call, inappropriately. The audience loved it, and so did I, but I had to pretend I didn't for the comedy value.

'Help,' I'd call out to Charlie as if I was frightened or in distress, which the audience found even funnier still, and finally Charlie would say.

'So you don't think he's ugly anymore?' and the women would turn away from me immediately. The look of sheer disgust on their faces was obvious, and some of them would even hold their noses, nostrils pinched together to keep out the imagined bad smell. He would do this a couple of times, saying 'handsome,' again, and then 'ugly,' again, milking it for all it was worth.

On the night that Jane was onstage he'd already done it with one girl who was a really lovely, attractive woman, and then it was Jane's turn. Charlie set her up beautifully, and when he said the word 'handsome,' she stalked across the stage towards me like a big cat in heat. She came into my arms and tried to kiss me. I almost let her; god knows I wanted to. I tried to push her away for the sake of the act, but I have to admit I didn't try very hard. Her hands were everywhere, and I was loving it, and so were the audience. At the point where I'd called out 'help,' with the previous woman, I changed the script and ad libbed in a loud voice.

'Help! Help! But take your time with this one Charlie,' and the audience burst into laughter. Charlie looked at the audience and did a big dramatic shrug of the shoulders as if he was perplexed at events on the stage and didn't know what to do. More laughter. Charlie cut it short when she tried to unbuckle my belt. It's an adult show folks, but not that adult, so Charlie said the magic word and she turned away from me in disgust. I was disappointed by that part of the show for the first time ever.

The rest of the show went as planned, the audience seemed to love it, the volunteers trooped off the stage at the end of the show and for all intents and purposes that was it. We'd be back again tonight for the evening show we told them. I was backstage in my dressing room, just wiping down the strings of my guitar, before putting it in its case and going out to do the 'meet and greet,' when there was a quiet knock at the door. I opened the door thinking it was maybe some autograph hunter, or such like, but my heart raced like a Formula One car coming out of the starting grid. It was Jane.

I invited her in, and thanked her for being such a wonderful volunteer. She smiled that dazzling smile I had seen earlier and I asked her if she enjoyed the show. She assured me she had loved it, but I could see there was something on her mind, so I straight out asked her.

'Well Jane,' I began, 'you were wonderful and the audience loved you too. You seem to have something on your mind though. Do you have some complaint or regrets about volunteering to take part in the show now?' She shook her head.

'No, no nothing like that at all, but from what my friend told me I was acting totally out of character. She was surprised and amazed by how strongly I reacted to you under hypnosis. You see, I'm not like that in real life, and I never have been,' she continued. I nodded my head from time to time, trying not to interrupt, just listening.

'To tell the truth, things have happened in my life that have left me totally repressed, and I want to get over it, I really do, but I don't know where to start. I've heard that hypnosis can be very therapeutic and since I've already met you I wondered if you could help me?'

Well... here was a golden opportunity for me to hypnotise her and probably get her into bed, but quite honestly, gorgeous as she was, I like to think I have some integrity. I'm not the kind of guy who could just use her and leave her more fucked up than when she met me.

'Look Jane,' I said in my most sympathetic tone of voice. 'You probably need a therapeutic hypnotist, a psychological expert for this sort of thing. I'm just a stage hypnotist, an entertainer. I'd need to delve into your past, ask a lot of very personal questions. However, I'd be willing to talk with you and give you my best advice and see if that helps.' She nodded her head eagerly as if I was the answer to her prayers.

'Yes, okay, that sounds great. Maybe just talking about it will help, that seems to be what psychiatrists do anyway. When can you see me?' she asked, obviously very enthusiastic about the idea.

'Well, I'm just going out to meet the audience in the foyer for the next ten minutes or so, but come with me now, and afterwards, assuming you have the time of course, we can go back to the hotel where I'm staying and maybe have a drink in the bar or a coffee and talk things over.' That seemed to be agreeable to her and so she followed me out to the foyer, and just waited patiently while I talked to some of the audience members and even signed a few autographs.

She had her own car with her and she drove me back to the hotel. I left our car keys with Charlie; he was more than capable of driving back himself, and he gave me a wink as we were leaving as if to say, 'I know what you're up to my boy, good luck.'

In the hotel, I gave her the choice of having something to drink in the bar just off the foyer, or I could order coffee. She settled for coffee when I said I would prefer she have a clear head if we were going to talk about whatever problem she had. We sat in the most secluded corner of the very large foyer in a couple of comfortable armchairs, with a low occasional table in front of us. We pulled the armchairs closer, so we wouldn't have to talk loudly over the table, after all, she was about to divulge some very personal and confidential information about herself. We didn't want the other hotel clientele or staff to hear.

When the coffee arrived we both had a cup, and I suggested she start from where she thought her problems started. She'd obviously thought about this before, because she just launched into it from the start.

'I'm not stupid, and I'm not going to claim any false modesty about how I look. I have eyes to see, I have mirrors to see myself in and I know I look good.' She said it in a no nonsense way. 'People tell me that all the time, but honestly although it's nice to hear that, it doesn't mean shit to me. Yes, I'm glad I look good, but it doesn't bring happiness, or contentment.'

'When I was at school I was considered to be what they call an 'ugly duckling,' you know, that old story about the ugly ducking who grew up to be a beautiful swan?' I nodded; it was one of the best known stories of Hans Christian Anderson, the Danish writer of fairy tales.

'I was tall for my age, a bit gangly and skinny,' she went on, 'which led to me being bullied mercilessly by some of the other kids. My time at school was miserable, and the older I got the worse it got, and then I started to develop quite early too. I was the only one in my class with breasts.' I made suitable but very sincere sympathetic noises.

'That led to me being the victim of some of the older boys who would feel me up in the corridors. They would grab me, feel my breasts, and believe me they weren't gentle. They had no clue how to touch a girl and quite often they hurt me. I became more and more withdrawn. I suppose that's where most of my problems come from.'

'Now men look at me and all they see is the beautiful, sexy looking shell. They want to take me out, and be with me, but when they try to kiss me or touch me I just curl up inside. Quite frankly, sex scares me. I think my experiences conditioned me to avoid it like the plague.'

'So,' I replied, 'what has changed? Why do you want to do something about it now?'

'Your show this afternoon, being hypnotised,' she explained, 'I think it has partially broken down the barrier I've built around myself all these years. Is that possible do you think?' she asked me. I didn't want to say for sure because I didn't know enough about how she felt, but I confirmed that it was possible, so I asked her what made her think being hypnotised had helped.

'I remember Charlie... is that his name?' she hesitated, and I confirmed that it was. 'Well obviously Charlie hypnotised me, and when he took the hypnotised me out to the front of the stage and introduced you to me, I didn't think anything of it. Then he told me to look at you and asked me if I liked you, and I remember thinking you were just another guy. A nice looking guy right enough, but nothing special, and suddenly he said something, and for no reason I wanted you.

It was like some big electrical charge went through me and I wanted you, and I mean sexually. I can honestly say, I've never felt anything like that before, but I liked that feeling and I realise now that I've been missing out on so much. I just want to feel normal, and hypnotism could be the thing to do it. What do you think?' she concluded.

'Well, yes, it could,' I cautiously replied, 'but that sort of hypnotherapy is usually only done under the guidance of a recognised psychiatric or psychological hypno-therapist. I don't want to pretend that I'm anything other than a stage hypnotist. I have no academically recognised professional qualifications. I have to be careful because it could be seen as me hypnotising you, and making you vulnerable to some sleazy sexual advances. The tabloid newspapers would love it if that ever got out. I wouldn't like people to think that of me, and I especially wouldn't like you to think of me like that at a later date.' She shook her head.'

'I wouldn't think that at all,' she promised, virtually pleading with me now, 'after all, it's me who is asking you for help, please try, even if it's just a tentative, experimental hypnotic session. I'll even sign a disclaimer stating that I asked for your help.' She was getting through to me; she was a hard woman to resist, and my hard cock was most definitely on her side of the debate.

'I feel quite honoured that you've chosen to confide in me Jane, and I will do anything I can to help you.,' I promised. 'This is most unusual for me, because I'm more of a "give you my word and handshake," sort of guy, but on this occasion I will take you up on your offer of a written disclaimer, because if this came back to haunt me in future it could ruin me professionally.' She nodded as I finished speaking.