Hypnotist at the Bijou
Part 21
Wednesday morning saw a flurry of activity in the hotel room. As Cassandra blissfully awoke from her deep sleep, her memory of the intimacy with Arty last night bathed her in a serene glow, which was now being rudely interrupted by Professor Zelmann scurrying about in a most unusual fashion. She lifted her head and sleepily enquired, “Arty, can I help?”
“Oh, my darling Cassandra, I am sorry to disturb you. I am trying to find my list of retainer rights to ratify my next contract with Roger today. Have you by any chance seen a blue foolscap folder with a dozen or so sheets in it lying around?” The Professor asked eagerly.
“I have. I placed it on the bureau to keep it safe, we got a little boisterous last night, and it looked like something you might want to keep. What are retainer rights?”
“Well, I’ll explain it like this. Rock stars ask for extraordinary foods, or monkeys, or drugs, and opera stars have flowers or pampering, and I, well I choose to have the run of the theatre. There are a list of things I try to get the promoters to agree to, but the most important is that. I use the list to check off the things I have asked to be included in the contract, and then Roger and I determine if the result is commensurate with the agreed remuneration. In order to retain my services, they afford me certain rights. The negotiation is more Roger’s thing, but I wouldn’t question him, he is helping to make me a very rich man.” Zelmann explained. He moved the hotel directory and discovered the object of his search below. “Ah, splendid! Now to the question of vehicular transport. Cassandra, my sweet, as I will be required to travel a little today, I wondered if you would feel alright if I were to ask you if I can borrow your car.”
Cassandra loved that there was something she could do for him in return, “Of course, Arty, as long as you can drop me off at work first. Where are you going?”
“I am meeting with Roger to finalise the West Australian leg of my tour, including considerations for you, my darling.” The Professor informed her. Cassandra enjoyed the rosy glow of hearing him call her darling, they were getting pretty tight as a couple, and she was looking forward to travelling with him around the country, and perhaps beyond. “Will it be okay if Tim comes along for a ride? He needs to see his lawyer too, and he’s only two blocks away from Roger’s.”
“Anything for Tim, I adore him,” was Cassandra’s amiable response.
Cherie woke up in a cold sweat. She had been having the most disturbing dreams, there seemed to be the weight of the world bearing on her shoulders, and she couldn’t work out what she was supposed to do about it. ‘Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely’ kept going through her head. Damn, what could this mean, why was she thinking that? She determined that she needed to see the Professor and see if he could help. As she trundled into the dining room Connie looked startled, “Bloody hell, Cherie, what have you been doing? You look terrible.”
“Dreaming. I can’t stop dreaming all of a sudden. I feel the responsibility of the king of the world, and I don’t know why.” Cherie bemoaned.
Tim sauntered in towelling his hair after his shower, “Eeek! Cripes, Cherie, you look awful.” It must be said that Cherie was displaying a rather prominent crease in her left cheek, more as a red line now than a fold of flesh, but obviously from sleeping awkwardly. Her eyes were red, too, and her remaining complexion was as white as a sheet, all but the incredible dark circles around her eyes. At a glimpse she looked beaten up, and at a pinch, she felt beaten up. Tim encouraged her to him and cuddled her gently. “The Professor will get to the bottom of it. Oh shite, he isn’t going to be available today, not until this afternoon, anyway. We are going to see the suits today, he’s dropping me off at my lawyer’s while the SUV gets serviced, then he’s going to see his. I’ll ask him if you can see him this afternoon, and then I’ll ring and let you know.”
“That’ll be great, Tim, thank you. I might take it easy today, if it’s alright with you guys. I’ll just pop a few DVDs on. Are you going to work today, Connie?” Cherie probed.
“Yes. I only just got off the phone a few minutes ago, they tell me that workers are around the place, and there are still things to finish, but the office is safe and work can continue as nearly normal. It will be better if I go in, these night time spreadsheets are a bit of an interruption, even if the days with my sis have been pretty special.” Connie was circumspect, but life goes on. Connie was a little concerned about Cherie, though. Why did she go back to see the Professor yesterday? Could this be anything to do with that? Before they took off for work Connie asked Tim quiz the Professor on his involvement, and Tim did the little ouch look as if a friend had cut him. But he did agree to have a word.
A short time later Tim and Connie drove off separately in their cars, and Cherie went into the kitchen to make herself another cup of coffee. Her back ached, and the crease on her cheek had an ache, too. She nipped into the bathroom to study herself in the mirror, and she was dismayed. This was strange, there was never a time when she had looked this bad. Cherie soaped her hands and massaged her face for a while, and at least there was some relief from the aching. She rinsed with nice hot water, and dried herself, and the freshness in her skin improved her mood. She took the coffee to the lounge and set it down on the coffee table, then she lay on the floor and performed a gentle twisting and stretching exercise for her back. This loosened it up a bit, it felt much better, but it still ached. Feeling a little miserable she popped a DVD into the player and hit play, then she snuggled down into the cushions and got as comfy as possible, and immersed herself in the movie.
Professor Zelmann turned into the car park behind the wine bar, and parked the car. This wasn’t really what Cassandra had expected, she thought he would simply stop to allow her to alight, and then drive off again. He got out of the car, and walked around to Cassandra’s side as she was getting out, and he gently wrapped his arms around her, giving her the most deeply gratifying hug. A short kiss on her beautiful lips and he said, “I’ll see you later on, you can watch my show again tonight, if you like. Or if you prefer, I’ll return your car early this afternoon. Do you have a preference?”
Unexpected, but she was definitely not complaining, she loved his hugs, “I would like to watch you in action again, your act is marvellous. I am supposed to finish at twelve thirty, after I clean up I can come around to the theatre, around one. I’d like to change for tonight, so I’ll pick the car up and drive to the hotel.”
“Admirable, I’ll see you after lunch, then. I may be a little later than one, it depends how long Roger takes.” He added as he was getting back into her car. Cassandra strode off into the rear entrance of the wine bar, turning to wave as he drove out of the car park. The Professor accelerated smoothly out onto the road and piloted the sinuous rocket ship carefully the short distance to the theatre, pulling into the theatre car park. A few places further along was Tim, swinging his legs out of the SUV as he greeted the Professor.
“Morning Professor, nice day for it,” said Tim amiably.
“Tim, dear chap, I find every day is a nice day when you’re lucky enough to get it,” the Professor retorted, causing them both to chuckle. “I’d like to drop into my dressing room for a tick, and then we can get underway. How say you?”
“Ditto. Although in my case it’s my office.”
The gentlemen ambled together swapping witty remarks, entering the theatre via the massive front portal, at the same time as Irene was arriving for work. She paused and entered behind the two men, and the Professor turned to her and exclaimed, “Dear Irene, you should not hesitate, you should have entered in front of me, that way I could have the opportunity to admire your lovely form.” Irene enjoyed the lovely joyous feeling his compliment brought, as always, and fondly remembered the hypnotism thing from last night. Or at least fondly remembered the idea that a hypnotism thing had happened, she couldn’t really focus on any detail of the events. Tim was appreciating her new attitude to her appearance, she had ditched the jeans and t-shirt look for a more sophisticated skirt and stockings outfit, nice.
Tim addressed the Professor, “I’m going to be about fifteen to twenty minutes, and I’ll catch up with you soon.”
“Okay Tim, I’ll just take care of a few things and I’ll return to your office when I am ready to leave, then if necessary, I’ll wait.” Professor Zelmann headed to his dressing room when he encountered George.
“Oh, Professor Zelmann, sir, there was a message from Sergeant Kestrall. Says they haven’t located the item yet, but wanted you to know they are closing in on it. Following a few good leads.” George politely informed him.
“George, old man, please feel free to be less formal. And thank you very much for the message, it is most appreciated,” said the Professor. George liked the Professor very much, he always made him feel important. After Zelmann had completed his dallying, he returned to find Tim was still deeply engaged, so he trundled off to see Irene. He climbed the stairs to the control room and knocked on the door, and a man’s voice invited him in. “Eric, dear chap, it is good to see you,” the Professor said. Irene and Eric were busy scribbling and pointing as he entered.
“Can we do something for you, Professor Zelmann?” Eric offered.
“Well, to be honest, I have a few moments while I wait for Tim to finish. We are going into town to see the lawyers. That gives me a couple of minutes to drop in and give you a full thanks and appreciation for your dedication and skills in providing me with the best staging ever.” Zelmann beamed at them. Irene and Eric both swelled a little, his compliment was very much appreciated, and they gave each other a gentle high five.
“It has been an honour and a privilege to work with you, Professor.” Eric declared, seemingly now caught in his gaze. Irene felt a little buzz of excitement, she unconsciously knew that look and it was turning her on. The Professor moved to the nearest chair and lifted his eyebrows, nodding toward it, and Irene invited him to sit with them. He asked Eric, “How long have you been working with each other?”
Eric was pleased that the Professor was genuinely interested in their teamwork, “We’ve been doing this together for a little over a year now, and Irene was my apprentice for a year before that. Best apprentice a person could ask for, too.” Eric had moved beyond realising he couldn’t look away now, he simply sat and gazed into the loving eyes of this master hypnotist, enjoying the light conversation. There was a gentle humming sensation in his ears as he felt a drowsiness steal into his eyelids. Looking into the Professor’s eyes was somehow very important right at the moment.
The Professor added a little intensity to his stare, “I don’t doubt that Irene was an incredible apprentice, I find her talent is remarkable. I hope I don’t bore you with my praise for you both, but your work is to be commended. It gives me a great deal of comfort to know I’m in safe hands when it comes to the technical aspects of my show. Staging is half the battle when I’m hypnotising my subjects… getting the right mood is important in inducing a deep, deep, hypnotic sleep.” When Irene heard him beginning to talk about hypnotism again she started to feel the same gentle buzzing in her ears, and her thoughts began drifting as he continued. “And of course, as a hypnotist my desire is to induce a deep, deep, hypnotic sleep. When I look into the eyes of a subject it is important that nothing distracts them… so they can sleep… sleep.”
Eric’s eyelids were faltering, and Irene’s had closed. As with everyone who has witnessed Zelmann’s masterful theatre inductions, Eric was attuned to his style and was offering no resistance, his mind was now wafting on the pleasurable sensations created by the Professors voice and his words. “Your eyelids are getting heavy now, Eric… heavier and heavier… allow your eyelids to close down over your tired and unseeing eyes… relax… sleep.” Both technicians were now deeply hypnotised once again, and the Professor determined he would secure them as an expert team for a long future.
“Eric, open your eyes and stare deeply into mine… look deeply into my eyes.” As Eric lifted his heavy eyelids and gazed, Zelmann increased the fire and captivated him. “I am looking into the depths of your subconscious mind now Eric, and I see there are many desires and fantasies as yet unfulfilled… there are doors here with cobwebs and dust… the signs read ‘sexual interests’… I am returning the doors to gleaming portals… and opening them for your use… and I am installing an image of Irene in here… from now on you will always see Irene as a sexual being… your friend and colleague… but an irresistible and desirable woman equally… and her image in here is fixed and permanent. You lust after Irene now, Eric… Irene makes you horny… tell me Eric… tell me that Irene is the girl of your dreams.”
Eric slowly moved his mouth a little before any noise came out, then he said, “Irene is the girl of my dreams.”
“Now look at Irene… and as you look you can feel the longing in your loins… there is a tingling in your manhood… there is a rush of blood… your cock is swelling… your cock is stiffening… listen to my voice… your cock is becoming hard… hard… throbbing… you want Irene… you can’t resist Irene… tell me Eric… you can’t resist Irene.” Zelmann added a vehemence to his words, and Eric was feeling a lust like nothing he had ever felt before.
“I can’t resist Irene.” His cock had begun responding to the commands, and it got stronger and stronger… the tingling and twitching as it swelled was thrilling him gloriously, all the while his amorous gaze was magnetically attached to Irene’s loveliness.
“Now Irene… look at Eric… you have never before encountered such an intelligent and resourceful man… his fine figure and his amazing talent bring you deep longing and desire… you desperately want him to touch your pussy… his fingers and hands will surprise and thrill you… his touch is electric… he is a sexual technician… and you want to touch his cock… it drives you mad with pleasure that he is hard for you… and he wants you… and you want him too… you are intent on giving him pleasure.” The Professor had turned his glowing eyes on Irene now, and she was drinking in Eric’s fine form and then looking back into the Professor’s eyes, and was meekly accepting the subtle rewriting of her acquaintance with Eric.
“Listen to me, both of you. You are now very deeply in love… friendly love… you share a passionate disposition for your craft that is so strong and powerful that you cannot resist the temptation to play with each other… sex is fun… sex is enjoyable… but you have others in your life… so you use only hands and fingers to please your friend… but you must please your friend… you want to please your friend… it is etched in the very fabric of your talent… a good team is a strong team… and your team is the best… and that makes you want sex… and the sex makes you want to be a better team… pull your chairs together… side by side… Eric, stroke your fingers on beautiful Irene’s legs… Irene… stroke your fingers on Eric’s throbbing erection bulge… produce pleasure… bask in the pleasure, enjoy it.”
Irene and Eric were in the grip of their newfound and now deep seated adoration of each other, and responded immediately to the commands to bring their chairs together. Eric’s soft technician fingers stroked up and down Irene’s stockings bringing that familiar stimulation in her skin reaching up to her pussy, and she tickled round and round on the bulging tent in his pants, grazing her fingernails over the material, vibrating tortuously over his glans. They looked into each other’s eyes and shared a newly discovered love and desire, but they were astutely aware that there were boundaries. Somehow that was making it more exciting, and Irene worked Eric’s zip, and soon had the whole of his cock out in her hands. Her movements became feverish, and she began the contest to see who could make the other cum first. Eric loved this contest, and pressed her labia through her sheer panties, and began rubbing madly. Irene could not believe how perfectly Eric’s pressure and pace were bringing her to climax, and she increased her activity on his glans, tickling the corona and rubbing up and down, then teasing the frenulum and smearing the pre cum all around his glans at increasing pace. Zelmann was making a zumming noise, growing louder and more high pitched, and it was having the effect of timing and stimulating their orgasms. Irene had a handkerchief at the ready, and as they both exploded she barely managed to hold still enough to wield it, but she did catch Eric’s spurt and prevent soiling.
After a minute or two of cooling down, the Professor commanded their attention again, “Now. Irene and Eric, you have shared a loving embrace that will bind you forever. It causes you great joy, whatever else happens in your life, to share your skills, your talent and your lust and desire. You will take every reasonable and safe opportunity to give pleasure to your friend, and it will enhance your friendship and your teamwork both, making you successful and happy in equal measures. You will never compromise each other, you will behave appropriately at all times in company and towards others, and particularly towards significant others, but you will share joys that other people could only wish for. At a deep level you are committed to each other, and I expect you will make my shows a brilliant success on every occasion, now and on future tours. When I count to five you will awaken, knowing only that we have discussed this and future shows, and being very pleased to have had the opportunity to speak with me. You have no memory of this hypnotic trance, we were only talking… 1… 2… 3… 4… 5. So once again, thank you, and I must be going, that rascal Tim must be ready by now. Farewell.”
Eric and Irene waved and said goodbye as he left, looking at each other and commenting on what a fabulous time they were having producing this show. Eric looked at Irene’s stockinged legs, and an unstoppable thought burst through, “Dear Irene, may I tell you that you look absolutely lovely dressed this way? I never questioned that you are pretty, but this style suits you admirably.”
Irene was as pleased as punch. She had dressed this way today for a reason that she couldn’t quite fathom, but Eric’s appreciation had the effect of ensuring that this was how she would dress from now on. She really admired Eric, he was, after all, her mentor, and it made her feel good to try and please him. So polite, too. Professor Zelmann, Eric, Tim, crumbs she loved working here. Irene thanked Eric profoundly, and he quietly congratulated himself in contributing to such a marvellous team.
The Professor returned to Tim’s office, only to find it empty. “Confound the slippery rascal, where might he have gotten to now,” he chuckled to himself. Tim was smoothing his pants as he returned from the men’s room, berating the Professor as he walked.
“Come on, Professor, what are we waiting for?” With that cheeky smile Tim was marching at a swift pace toward the entry portal, looking back over his shoulder to ascertain the Professor’s progress. Professor Zelmann was sniggering merrily as he sped up to catch his friend. They came together as they reached Cassandra’s car, a mid size sports sedan of significant stature, and the Professor opened the door with the remote key. Tim entered the passenger side and the Professor slid in behind the steering wheel, sliding the fob into the dash. Tim was very impressed, and praised Cassandra’s taste, wondering how a waitress had acquired such a marque. Professor Zelmann gave Tim one of those ‘are you insinuating my darling is a thief’ type looks, but he confided in Tim that he is wondering the same thing, and was intent in finding out himself. Might even let Tim know when he discovers the answer.
Once again the Professor set off with a calm assurance, safe and particularly comfortable, not an easy thing to do the first time you drive someone else’s car. Tim was amazed at how comfortable his seat was, and the climate control had the cabin perfectly sumptuous. Sit back and relax. Professor Zelmann started a general conversation about Connie and suddenly Tim’s brain exploded (metaphor, a jolt of electrical activity actually reminded him in a startling fashion about Cherie). “Professor, I just remembered, Cherie was having a terrible time of it this morning. She had been experiencing dreadful dreams, something about the weight of the world on her shoulders and power corrupts. Her face was a mess, and her eyes were sunken and red. Connie asked me to enquire if yesterday may have anything to do with it.” Tim then gaped, he couldn’t believe he had said that. “Jeepers Professor, I’m sorry I blurted it out like that.”
“Nonsense Tim, you are quite right to do so. You are undoubtedly closer to Cherie than I, but I love her dearly. Any discomfort she feels hurts me too. I fear Connie may be right, I could indeed be the culprit. My heart is heavy with this burden, and I must think for a while on how I will rectify the situation.” The Professor admitted.
“But what happened. Did you hypnotise Cherie? Will she be alright, is she going to get over it. Will she die?” Poor Tim’s active imagination kicked in to high gear.
Professor Zelmann interrupted Tim’s flow, “Dear Tim, please be of good cheer. Cherie’s malady is a simple one, and I can right it easily enough, but there are things you will probably need to know. Firstly, yes, Cherie loves to be under my power. She loves to… go deeply to sleep. When I ask her to… go deeply into a hypnotic trance, she finds a strong sexual surge accompanying her induction. As you know, Tim, my voice is very powerful, and when I say to you that you are becoming very tired, and your eyelids are growing drowsy and heavy, your subconscious mind accepts these as truth. Cherie enjoys that, think on that Tim as you slip deeper and deeper into the power of my voice, Cherie loves it when I send her into a deep and drowsy sleep.” Of course it had worked a treat, Tim’s eyes were now closed, and his cock was erect and twitching in his trousers. Zelmann decided now was as good a time as any to program Tim’s final configuration.
“Tim… listen to my voice now… Cherie will be perfectly fine… she will be happy… she is going to be a powerful hypnotist… you need to concentrate on your own circumstances for the moment… I command you to obey… hear my voice and obey.” Zelmann was speaking with the voice of Odin, although quietly enough so he didn’t split Tim’s eardrums. “From this moment forward your cock is ten times more reactive and responsive to beautiful women being hypnotised… it gets so hard it is deliciously painful… tingly and fizzy and sizzly… and ten times more juicy… each and every time a hypnotic event takes your attention… it will thrill you… it will bring you pleasure beyond your wildest imagination… and your cock will remain hard, and keep getting more and more aroused until you experience an orgasm… Connie can make you orgasm… Connie can make you orgasm just by teasing, whispering, touching, or handling your cock… and you crave more… you will always want other women to bring you orgasmic pleasures by using their hands and fingers… but you will put your cock in only one pussy for the rest of your life… Connie’s pussy will always produce the most pleasure you can possibly endure… so much pleasure from Connie’s pussy you might pass out… you love Connie… you want Connie… you cannot resist Connie… Connie owns your cock… and you own Connie’s pussy… but you will seek stimulation and gratification as often as desirable from all women… and you want Connie to seek stimulation and gratification from all men touching and rubbing her pussy… but no other man will ever put his cock in her pussy. Tim… you are now and will always be my permanent hypnotic slave… my power is too great for you to resist… and it provides you with the greatest of enjoyment… when you wake up in a moment you will store all this information in your deep subconscious mind… you will never know about it when you are awake… is that clear, Tim?”
“Yes Professor Zelmann, I will obey you.” Tim spoke clearly and calmly.
“When I count to five you will return to considerations of Cherie, listening to my plan and being comforted. 1... 2… 3… 4… 5. So I will visit her this very afternoon and return her good humour and poise.” The Professor turned to Tim as he opened his eyes.
“Right then, that will be brilliant, I expect.” Tim was back in the moment, sort of. Jeepers creepers he felt good when he was with Professor Zelmann, although he wished he could find a reason for sporting such a massive boner at the moment. Must be the thought of Cherie being hypnotised by the Professor this afternoon, yeah, that’d be it, Cherie. “Well I’ll be, we’re here already. Thanks Professor. Grab me at about twelve thirty?”
“Done. If I am a minute or two late just wait, I won’t be far away. Otherwise I’ll give you a tinkle.” Tim got out and headed in to the impressive building housing his suit, ‘bloody lawyers’ he was thinking.
A minute later the Professor was pulling around the back of Roger’s modest office. It was a hundred and fifty year old stately home in the ritzy part of town, very tastefully decorated, although the Professor didn’t care to taste it, and quietly opulent. ‘Bloody lawyers’, Zelmann was thinking as he entered. He was greeted at the reception area, a separate alcove tucked neatly away to one side in the middle of the house, by Roger’s relatively new girl. Zelmann was pleased, no, Zelmann was aroused. He got an idea.
“Good morning, Mr Zelmann. I expect?” Said the lovely woman in a voice more suited to smelting titanium. Mr Packham will be with you shortly.”
“Good morning to you, dear beautiful lady. If I may please correct you, it is Professor, not mister, and absolutely nobody gets to call me shortly!” He raised one eyebrow and they both laughed like schoolkids.
“Certainly, Professor, please forgive me.” She corrected herself amusedly. Just then Roger popped his head out through the doorway to his office and gestured to the Professor.
“Hey, Art, I’m so sorry I’m running a bit late. I will be with you in about ten minutes. Just drop your bum in the comfy seat and Sabine will give you whatever you want.” In a display of urgency he immediately withdrew and closed the office door. The receptionist asked what he might want, and he replied he was fine. He sat in the chair indicated and picked up a magazine for cover, while he cast an appreciating eye over the exquisite Sabine. Perfect, couldn’t have worked out better. Ever since the World War I experiments in remote seeing he had been pursuing an interest in telepathy. Quiet, hopefully undisturbed, unseen, this would work a treat. He gazed at Sabine and produced a vivid mental picture, then began to animate the picture with heavy eyelids, closing in submission to his will. At the same time he summoned his mental voice, thought about powerful amplification circuits and mind bending filters, and then started to project his thoughts to her.
‘You want so desperately to relax… you want so desperately to relax… relax… your eyelids feel heavy… relax… your eyelids are very heavy… relax… you are feeling so tired… your eyelids feel so heavy they must close… relax… you want so desperately to relax… relax… your arms are heavy… relax… your eyelids are even heavier… you must relax… you feel comfortable… relax… you are so happy… and relaxed… so very relaxed… your eyes are closing… they are closing… relax… you want so desperately to sleep… relax… sleep… so very deeply asleep… going to sleep… so very deeply asleep… you want so very desperately to go deeply to sleep.’
Sabine initially continued to type the litigation copy, with no external appearance of anything happening. But there were little oohs and aahs escaping from her pretty lips as there suddenly appeared occasional small errors on the screen. She never ever made errors, it was how she got the job. Roger was so impressed at her typing speed and accuracy, a prerequisite for this work, he had said. And as she corrected this latest mistake she began to feel like there was a hazy halo forming around her head, not dizzy or woozy, just sort of woolly and dreamy. Nothing for it but to persevere.
‘Heavy eyes… tired eyes… sleepy… drowsy… eyes want to close… want to rest… want to sleep… ah yes… sleep… that would be nice… just go to sleep… go to sleep… a very, very deep sleep… deeper and deeper to sleep all the time.’
No, she decided that there were too many mistakes now. She saved the file with the last corrections and closed the word processor. The halo around her felt fuzzy now, she decided to read the new case log Roger asked her to this morning. ‘My eyes are getting so tired’, she thought, ‘this is so odd’. And then, ‘cripes, I can hardly hold my eyes open’. Then somewhere dancing around in her mind there was, ‘sleepy… sleepy… drowsy… eyes want to close… want to rest… want to sleep… ah yes… sleep… that would be nice… just go to sleep… go to sleep… a very, very deep sleep’, and as she began to recognise these were unusual thoughts it was too late. Her eyelids had been slowly lowering over her eyes, and although she had made a supreme effort to raise them again, they were inexplicably tired and heavy. She couldn’t fight it, they closed again, and now she couldn’t get them open, and the halo was all encompassing, suppressing her will. She was asleep, and going deeper.
Zelmann surreptitiously stood up and walked over to her desk, leaning in and quietly saying… “Deeper and deeper… good sleep… restful sleep… listen… go deeper to sleep… it is good to sleep… it is good to listen… my words are important… my words are enjoyable… listen to my words… in a moment I will wake you up… you will be fine… but you will be disappointed… because you want to sleep more than anything right now… just for a short time… you really want to sleep… to listen to me… listen to my important words… when you wake up it will only last for about ten seconds… then you will fall asleep again… you want it so desperately… to fall asleep again… ten times deeper… wanting to listen to me… my important words… wake up now then you can fall asleep again.”
Sabine slowly opened her eyes, and she looked at Zelmann as he stood above her. “I think I must have nodded off, I am so sorry. I can’t think what is wrong, I never… want to… go to sleep at work.”
“If you think very deeply about it, dear Sabine, what is it that you really want to do right now?” Zelmann slowly intoned to her.
“I, erm, really… want… to… go… to… sleep.” And her eyelids closed heavily over her tired eyes again.
“Now, dear Sabine, you are deeply asleep and under my power, I am a master hypnotist, and I have placed you in a deep hypnotic trance, and you must obey my instructions, is that clear, my dear.” The Professor deepened his control.
“Yes, I must obey your instructions.” Sabine answered like an automaton.
“Tonight you must come to my show, it is at the Bijou Theatre. After the show has finished you will come to my dressing room to have a personal interview with me, your deep subconscious mind wants so very desperately to be properly hypnotised by me, and you will be easy to hypnotise, is that quite clear, my dear?”
“Yes, I will come to your show, I will go back stage to see you, I will obey.” Perfect response, the Professor was rapt.
“I will count to five, Sabine, and you will return to normal. In fact, you will be super normal, bright, energetic and fabulous, with no memory of this trance, and no idea you have been under my hypnotic power. 1… 2… 3… 4… 5.” The Professor was seated in that chair with his eyes down in the magazine as she returned to her wakeful state, and she began to operate as if she had in injection of caffeine, busily reading and updating the notes Roger had given her. She took a moment to look around, there was something she seemed to have missed, but she didn’t know what it was, because she missed it. Never mind, get on with work. The eternally busy Roger then emerged from his chamber, offering his hand as he fairly raced towards the Professor. Pleasantries complete, they retired to Roger’s chamber, with Roger asking Sabine for no interruptions for half an hour.
Tim’s phone rang while he was speaking with his lawyer, truly bad form, he should have turned it off for their meeting. His lawyer grimaced at him, but excused him for a moment while he took it. “Hello, Tim speaking. Oh hi, Nick. What, what do you mean it will cost five hundred dollars… yes, I know what ‘it will cost five hundred dollars’ means, but why… uh huh… really?.. but I don’t ride the clutch… Connie, I doubt it… look, thanks for letting me know, how long will it take to fix… a week… are you mental?.. no, no, I’m sorry Nick, I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just a bit of a shock… no, no, better to have it fixed… yes, go ahead, I’ll get Connie to pick me up tonight... yeah, righto, thanks, bye.” As if the meeting with the lawyer wasn’t bad enough, there was never good news at these things, but now the bloody SUV had worn out it’s clutch and needed a new one. Tim would have to rely on Connie for the next week. He returned to his lawyer, and the bad news therein.