TRANCES
It wasn’t that I didn’t have a pretty good reputation with the girls in high school and college, but my successes weren’t spectacular, either. I did all right, plenty of dates most of the time, two girls with whom I went steady for almost a year—the usual. I wasn’t a jock, or a student government leader, or anything, but neither were most guys. It all seemed perfectly normal ... but that was before my friend Jeff’s older brother taught me how to hypnotize people.
I was doing my freshman year of college locally, to save money, when Edward came home from one of the big-time universities where he was a senior psych major. His grades were very good and he apparently had an excellent shot at one of the better graduate schools the following year. Edward’s particular fascination was the workings of human will power. He wanted to understand the forces that drove people. That meant trying to nullify someone’s will power so he could, in effect, take it out and study it, see what made it tick. And, for Edward, that meant hypnotism.
To him, hypnotism was a kind of crowbar that he could use to pry the lid off his subject’s mind, so he could investigate its innards. He was very good at it, too. He was able to hypnotize his brother in less than five minutes, even though Jeff knew perfectly well what he was doing and probably tried to resist. I know Edward was able to put me under in nothing flat, even though I’m ordinarily a highly suspicious and skeptical person. I wouldn’t have thought I’d make a good hypnotic subject—but I have a polaroid of myself, barefoot with pants legs rolled up, and an actual lampshade on my head, capering about in a particularly silly way. That proves it.
The odd thing is, being a rather reserved person for a teenager and careful of my dignity, I would have resisted consciously and strongly any attempt by anyone to get me to behave like that, but I can clearly remember being completely aware of my actions at the time. I just didn’t mind that Edward had me behaving in such an embarrassingly foolish way. It seemed, at the time, that it was all my own idea,... and a very good idea, at that.
When I emerged from the hypnotic state (Edward had told me that I would feel not at all resentful, and I wasn’t), I was very curious about the old story that you couldn’t make someone do something against their will under hypnosis. He laughed.
“Well, you can’t just tell a subject to shoot someone, for instance. But you could probably tell them they’re shooting at a paper target on a firing range—and if you convince them of it, they’ll shoot. Especially if they’ve been on a range before and know they can’t ‘hurt’ the target. It’s not a matter of overcoming the subject’s will power so much as doing an end run around it.”
I thought about that. “This is getting interesting,” I said. “Could you teach me how to hypnotize someone?”
Edward was reluctant. He didn’t want some irresponsible kid poking randomly into things he didn’t understand. But I was a serious young man and I could be pretty persuasive myself. He finally gave in and instructed me in the techniques of seducing a person’s attention until they had entered a trance state. No pendulum-like pocket watches, no rotating spiral disks, no monotonic chanting, no “tricks” of any kind. It was a matter of focusing the subject’s entire attention on yourself, a little at a time (though it actually happened pretty fast if it was going to happen at all), until your suggestions regarding their thoughts and behavior seemed to them to originate within their own mind. It was a technique some people could master easier than others, of course. And it turned out that I was a natural at it—better than Edward, in fact, once I’d had some practice.
My first subject, coincidentally, was Edward and Jeff’s kid sister, Sharon. She didn’t really know me and she had no reason to trust me. In fact, as a typical thirteen-year-old, she had no reason to put much trust in any teenager much older than herself. But I was able to put her under within a few minutes. As a test, I gave her a few pieces of licorice and told her it was dark chocolate. I like licorice, which was why I was carrying it around, but both brothers assured me Sharon loathed the stuff. But she grinned with delight as she ate it, and even thanked me for the treat very politely when I brought her out of the trance! I knew this could be a source of Power, with a capital “P”.
I had been somewhat interested in psychology already, but when I transferred to the university as a sophomore the next year, psychology became my official major. I also began thinking seriously about pre-med and a career in psychiatry. It seemed a fascinating opportunity to get “under the hood” of the human mind; I was beginning to understand why Edward was so absorbed in the subject. But my new skills at hypnosis also proved to be of more immediate use.
Kathy was a cute little thing, a freshman during my junior year, who looked closer to fifteen than the “eighteen-and-a-half” she claimed. She was bright and friendly and open—and trusting. A perfect subject, I thought.
I had spent nearly a year honing my abilities on friends and acquaintances, especially those who, like me, lived in the dorm. I had never asked anyone to do anything that could be considered immoral or illegal—just things they would not choose to do if they were in control of their own actions. Things like a guy putting on a girl’s dress and strolling around the dorm completely oblivious to the laughter trailing after him.
Actually, I only went that far once, with a subject who was almost universally disliked; he held no grudge afterward (I’d told him he wouldn’t) and no one else complained of the little show he had been instructed to put on. More often, I had shy subjects get up and sing bawdy songs and girls recite dirty limericks to strangers: Things that were only mildly embarrassing, and which the subjects probably got a secret thrill from afterward.
I also learned the hard way to phrase instructions so as to obtain exactly the results I wanted. One guy in the dorm had a bad nervous habit of biting his nails; his cuticles were frequently bloody. He was willing to let me attempt a bit of hypnotherapy, but I screwed up badly. I told him that when he had the urge to bite his nails, he simply wouldn’t be able to.
The unforeseen result was that he was physically unable to move his hand to his mouth and he went into a serious panic. Fortunately for both of us, I always left a posthypnotic “back-door,” to make it easier to put the subject under the next time, and I was able to calm him down and modify the instructions: When he wanted to bite his nails he would remind himself that it was ruining the condition and appearance of his hands and he would lose the desire to gnaw at them.
That was much more successful. After a few weeks of aborted hand-to-mouth motions—which didn’t interfere with eating or note-taking—he had conditioned himself not to bite his nails at all. The desire had gone, the habit had disappeared, and he was delighted. I suspected he would probably adopt some other nervous habit, but I wasn’t a therapist yet! Anyway, I was learning, always learning. And then I moved to the university and I met Kathy.
My “in” with Kathy was her infatuation with poetry. She loved having her favorite verses read aloud to her, in fact: The classic romantic. So we sat under a tree on campus one Friday afternoon and I read CHILDE HAROLD to her in a quietly dramatic voice. She leaned against the tree trunk, eyes half-closed, drinking in the music of the words. After ten minutes of listening to my voice, she had virtually put herself under. When I asked her to repeat a series of nonsense syllables, she did so without question. She was suggestible and I had already worked out what I would do to take advantage of the situation I had created.
“Listen to me carefully, Kathy. We only met a few weeks ago, but you’re already beginning to have romantic thoughts about me—and only me. You will find yourself daydreaming about me, and it will happen a little more with each passing day. After a week or so, you will wonder if you’re falling in love with me. The sound of my voice will give you exciting little chills, my touch will make you feel warm and loving, you will gradually begin to fantasize about a physical relationship with me. Nothing serious—sitting on my lap so you can be close to me, kissing me, wanting me to put my arms around you and hold you. All the things you read about in romantic novels. You will be completely aware of your growing feelings and your increasing desires for me, and they will all seem completely natural. They will make you very happy. You will begin to do everything you can think of to win me over to you.
“Most important, you will quickly come to trust me in every way, won’t you? That’s one of the main reasons you will begin to fall in love with me—because you know you can trust me absolutely and you know I would never hurt you.
“Now: You will not remember this conversation and you will not remember that you were in a trance. You’ve just been sitting here, feeling warm and happy, listening to me read you poetry. Do you understand?” She smiled slightly and nodded. “But you will follow the instructions I’ve given you, won’t you? And you will slip easily into a deep trance state whenever you hear my voice—and only my voice—say the words ‘Dive, Kathy, dive.’ Repeat the words that will put you into a pleasant trance when you hear my voice speak them to you.”
“Dive, Kathy, dive,” she murmured, and giggled. I wondered for a moment if she could be faking but quickly realized the giggles were just part of her happy frame of mind. Kathy was a giggler, but a very cute one. One more little test, though.
“Kathy, I want you to repeat the following words to me, softly, but as if you really mean them: ‘Fuck me in the ass until I scream for mercy!’ Go ahead.”
She licked her lips and squirmed and her eyes opened wider. She fixed me with a hot look. “Fuck me in the ass until I scream for mercy...!” Her voice was soft but husky, almost smoky. What a turn-on!
“Okay, now you’ll forget that I ever asked you to say that, Kathy, and you’ll forget that you ever said it. I’m going to count backward from five and you will gradually float up out of your trance. When I reach ‘one’ you will be fully awake again. You will not remember having been in a trance but you will follow your instructions.”
I settled myself again, a polite few inches away from her, and looked at the volume of Byron in my lap. “Five,... four,... three,...” She was blinking and trying to focus. “Two,... one.” She looked over at me and I could practically see her mind shifting gears. There were new thoughts in her head, now. Thoughts about me.
I continued to read the lines of verse from where I had left off, but she was paying more attention to me than to the words. She licked her lips as before and I thought I saw a slight tinge of pink at the tops of her ears and around her collarbone. She leaned toward me a little without even realizing it.
I marked the place in the book with one finger and closed it. “Kathy, I’m afraid I have to get back to the dorm and work on a term paper. Uh, would you like to go out tomorrow night? Maybe a movie? Or we could just go for a coke and a stroll...” I was careful not to act too sure of myself.
“Oh, yes! I’d love to go out with you!” And she blushed a little at her own enthusiasm. I was in.
The next evening, Kathy and I walked down to the multiplex at the shopping center near campus and took in a movie. We held hands and cuddled and I was aware that she seemed to be watching me more than the screen. And afterward, when we stopped at the Baskin-Robbins for a cone, she continued to study me in a bit of a daze—not a “trance” daze, just an ordinary adolescent one.
When I kissed her under the trees outside her dorm, she didn’t hesitate at all but plastered herself against me and kissed me back with exciting eagerness. Perhaps I could have grabbed her crotch through her jeans, but I didn’t want to push my luck and I’m not quite that crude in any case. I settled for stroking her curvy little bottom, with an occasional squeeze, and Kathy kissed me all the harder. She would blossom under romantic attack much more satisfyingly than from a blunt assault, and it was also a lot more fun.
By our third date, she had arranged for her dorm roommate to be out so she could sneak me in for a few hours. We left the lights low in her room and I carefully unbuttoned her blouse as I nibbled on her neck. She was shaking a little from nervousness but there was no fear or hesitation. When I knelt and slid her jeans down her smooth, silky legs, she moaned in the back of her throat and urged me to hurry. Foreplay is pleasurable torture, though, and I had no intention of being rushed.
Then she was naked and I sat on the end of her bed, still fully clothed, and smiled as my gaze traveled the length of her body. Her eyes glowed; it was obvious she enjoyed being the object of my attention.
“Dive, Kathy, dive,” I said quietly. Her expression didn’t really change but she blinked and her attention fixed on me absolutely. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Kathy, what are you feeling right now? What are you hoping will happen here?”
“I feel sexy as hell,” she said with a breathless laugh. “I’m standing here on display for you and I love it! But only for you....” She licked her lips. “I guess I hope we’ll make love.”
“Are you a virgin, Kathy?”
“No,... but I’ve only had sex with my boy friend in high school a few times. This is different,” she added with a Significant Look.
“Kathy, your arousal is increasing more and more. Can you feel it?”
Her eyelids drooped a bit. “Oh, yes....” Her hands moved hesitantly to her breasts and she shook out her hair. “Please, take your clothes off....” she murmured.
“Not yet, Kathy. You want to show off for me first, don’t you? You want me to appreciate just how sexy your body is. And it would be very sexy if you masturbated while I watched, wouldn’t it?” I got up from the bed and moved over to my jacket, draped over her desk chair.
Her respiration had increased. “Um-hmmm,” she said under her breath as she began to roll her nipples between her fingers and stretch them out from her body. I dug the Polaroid out of my jacket pocket and snapped it open.
“Kathy, lie on the bed and jack yourself off for me. Take your time and enjoy it, sweetheart. Your breasts and your cunt will be much more sensitive than usual and you’ll really get into this, won’t you?” She crawled onto her bed and squirmed around on her back so that her legs were stretched out and her thighs parted. One hand moved down to her already moist pussy while the other continued to massage her nipple.
“I’m going to take some pictures, Kathy, but you will ignore that, you won’t think about it, you won’t even realize I’m doing it. All you’ll be aware of is that I’m watching you masturbate and I’m enjoying it very much, it’s really turning me on, Kathy—and that’s turning you on, isn’t it? Tell me what you’re thinking, sweetheart.”
“Oh, God, what would your cock feel like and I love being naked and feeling myself up and you’re watching me do it and it feels so good, so good, God, it’s so nice, my clit feels like a whole penis maybe and I wish you’d do this to me but I know you like to watch me do it so I like to do it for you,...” She paused for a breath as both hands separated her lips and one finger slipped inside.
I took a couple of shots and they came out very well, even in the low light. I had no thoughts about blackmail or anything; I just wanted data for my private studies ... and souvenirs, of course.
It didn’t take long for Kathy to work herself up to a high pitch and I took several more snapshots of her with her eyes half-closed and her mouth twisted with passion. As she hit the first orgasmic crest I used up the remainder of my film pack. She was really beautiful when she gasped and sobbed with her cunt full of fingers and her rigid nipples about to explode. But I didn’t want her in a trance when we had sex.
“Kathy, that was wonderful! You have no idea how sexy you are when you do that; it really does turn me on. Are you happy about that?”
“Oh, yes, that’s what I want! I want to turn you on so you’ll make love to me—please?”
I was already stripping off my clothes. “Of course I will, sweetheart, I want very much to make love to you! Now, when I get my underwear off, you will come out of your trance—with no hesitation, no regrets, no embarrassment about jacking off for me, okay? You enjoyed doing it and I enjoyed watching it, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
She responded with another “Um-hmmm” and then blinked and smiled broadly as I held up my shorts and then tossed them on the floor. She opened her arms to me as I crawled onto the bed and we spent a little time kissing and caressing and stroking. Kathy was a sweet girl and if I had conscience pangs they were subdued by the conviction that she had been doing what she really wanted to do, if only she had the nerve.
We spent a very enjoyable couple of hours thrashing about on her old dorm-issue bed, exploring each other’s bodies with hands and mouths, and finally fucking each other into sweaty exhaustion. She was enthusiastic and uninhibited, which I wasn’t sure she could have been without hypnotic encouragement. I knew perfectly well I was using her, but I preferred to think I was also giving her something back.
I had Kathy on a string for three months before her increasing dependence on me really began to worry me. I had made myself the most important thing in her life and that had consequences I hadn’t imagined. She hung on my every word and thought, she got jittery when she was away from me, and she went to tears if she thought I was displeased with her. She became anxious every time we had sex, gnawing her lip if I didn’t display unbridled enthusiasm at her every movement. Moreover, her grades were beginning to suffer, as were her relationships with other people. Her girlfriends began directing hostile stares at me when Kathy and I went out together.
I won’t say it wasn’t fun, though. I could speak a code word to her in public and watch while she enjoyed a small orgasm. And it was kind of nice to have a very cute girl leaning over my shoulder and nibbling on my ear while I had a hamburger with the guys at MacDonald’s. Nevertheless, my original instructions to Kathy hadn’t been well-structured or properly thought out. And since I had to modify them anyway, I decided to “free” her, to allow her to continue with her own life (and get out of mine).
After putting her under, I asked, “Kathy, suppose for a minute that I wasn’t in your life; is there some other guy you know—or would like to know—who’s available and to whom you are really attracted?” She hesitated and seemed a little fearful. “Go ahead, sweetheart, it’s okay. You aren’t betraying me and I won’t get mad; if I wasn’t interested, I wouldn’t have asked.”
“Well,... there’s Bobby Rinehart, in my Government class. He’s really cute and he’s not going with anyone. I’ve seen him watching me in class, too—but I don’t mean—”
“No, Kathy, that’s quite all right. Now, this is what’s going to happen: Over the next week or so, you will gradually come to realize that you and I don’t have as much of a future together as you thought we had. We won’t have a fight and there won’t be any hard feelings from either of us. You will still be fond of me and I will still be fond of you. But we will agree, quite amicably, that we aren’t really in love and that we should begin dating other people. You will think about Bobby Rinehart and if you decide—for yourself—that you’d like to go out with him, you will approach him yourself,... or any other guy you think you might enjoy dating. Do you understand, Kathy? You must not be shy about beginning a relationship with Bobby, or anyone else. You will not remember this conversation, but when you wake up tomorrow morning you will begin acting on your new instructions, won’t you?”
We had a very nice “last supper” that evening, munching and nibbling on each other. Two days later, Kathy said rather quietly, “We need to talk about us.”
It wasn’t quite as painless for me as I had expected. Even though Kathy had been in a condition of servitude, I found I was going to miss her attentive presence. That was the penance I had to pay, though, for having Kathy in the first place. At least I had arranged it so that we would remain friends.