Focus Group
by GlassO
Fifty dollars is fifty dollars, amiright?
A tank of gas or a night out. 45 minutes, testing some products or watching some ads; really it seemed too good to be true.
A tank of gas or a night out. 45 minutes, testing some products or watching some ads; really it seemed too good to be true.
Apparently, a lot of people had the same thought as the small theater was pretty full. Michael calculated there must be 20 or 30 people here. And like him, all pretty much young (broke) college students.
After the last of the participants were checked in, the lights dimmed and the screen lit up with the large logo F and the word, FOCUS emblazoned below. It shimmered around the edges, as if, quite appropriately, to get you to focus.
The image dissolved to an attractive older woman, who smiled at them warmly. Her lab coat mitigated her tall, slender beauty and gave her an aura of intelligence and authority.
“Good afternoon, everyone!” she said cheerily. She paused; then spoke again, “I said good afternoon everyone!”.
The audience chuckled and responded back in unison, “Good afternoon!”
She laughed. “That’s better! I suppose you were thinking this was pre-recorded! My name is Dr. Rose and I am actually simulcasting this presentation to several focus groups around the country at once...and I thank you all for coming in to help us with this valuable marketing research!”
She walked back and forth a bit as she spoke, looking directly at the camera.
“Today we will be studying the most valuable commodity in the marketplace...I’m not going to make you guess what that is...the commodity is your attention. Your FOCUS.” she emphasized ‘focus’ with a snap of her fingers.
“Advertisers are desperate for your FOCUS. Facebook, TikTok, YouTube, Instagram... it’s all about getting you to FOCUS on the things they want you to look at. And you...your generation...you are all so fickle on what you pay attention to. You’ll watch TV and scroll on your phones simultaneously...how can an advertiser know where your FOCUS is? I’m sure many of you would be on your phones right now had we not collected them before this seminar.”
Perhaps it was in Michael’s imagination, but he could have sworn there was a slight audio ‘bump’ every time she said ‘focus’. The faint soundtrack in the background would brighten almost imperceptibly on that word.
“But now,” she continued, “without that distraction, I have your complete and undivided attention. All your FOCUS is on me, there is no other stimulus, just me and my words.”
Dr. Rose paused as if to let that sink in.
“So I would like to take advantage of this rare opportunity to experiment with this FOCUS. An exercise in imagination and focus.”
Her image faded away and it was replaced with a small white dot in the middle of the screen. Without the light of the previous scene the theater was very dark. Usually in a movie theater you could see the red glow of the ‘exit’ signs or the dim lights of the stair runners, but here, there was none of that. It was so dark, Michael could hardly see the person sitting next to him.
“What I would like you to do is FOCUS all your attention on this white dot in the middle of the screen. Stare at it intently, perceiving its size, its brightness and its color. And when you are certain that you could imagine this dot in your mind’s eye, I’d like you to close your eyes and imagine that dot in your mind, see it just as it appears on the screen now.”
This was an easy exercise for Michael. As an artist he could see objects and scenes in vivid detail. Often he would sketch detailed scenes or people from memory with exacting precision. He could see the dot easily in his mind, even the slight feathering it had on the edges.
“Very good. You’re all doing very good.” the woman continued. For some reason, Michael enjoyed this unnecessary praise.
“And what I’d like you to do now, now that I have your FOCUS and your attention on my words, is I would like you to change the color of that dot in your mind. Imagine that it is turning red, red like a stop sign. Just imagine how that would look. The same brightness, the same size, but that red color. And go ahead and raise your hand when you’ve got that color in your mind.”
Michael raised his hand and waited. Momentarily the woman spoke again.
“Very good. You’re all doing very good. Focus on that color and on the sound of my voice. And notice that as you listen to the sound of my voice, that red dot that you are imagining is becoming more and more tangible. It’s becoming more fixed in your mind. It is absolutely a red dot to the point that you could not turn that dot back into a white dot, even if you wanted to. Your FOCUS is so intent on my words, so drawn to my words, that the red dot you are imagining is STUCK there. And when you are convinced that this red dot is real, that your imagination has made it real, I would like you to open those tired, heavy eyes; and when you do you’ll find that your imagination has turned that white dot on the screen into the red dot of your imagination.”
Michael was fascinated by this imagination experiment. He was skeptical it would actually work. There was imagination, and then there was reality; and as powerful as his imagination was, he doubted it would override what his actual senses told him.
He opened those tired, heavy eyes (though he thought it odd they were heavy and tired) and gasped. The white dot did indeed appear to be red. The exact color and intensity of the one in his imagination. He heard other people having the same reaction. The woman spoke again.
“Go ahead and allow those tired, heavy eyes to close again, and notice how good it feels to have them close, and to let your body and your mind just relax and feel good in knowing that you have such a powerful imagination that you can allow it to dictate what your eyes see. You have given me all of your FOCUS and your imagination is enjoying these playful exercises; listening to my words and following my suggestions. Let’s have our bodies relax even further, that’s right, just melt into those comfortable, soft seats, and feel your body grow heavy, just as those eyelids are so heavy. I’m sure you’ve noticed how heavy they are. So heavy that you could not possibly open them. You could give it a little try, but I think you’ll find they just want to stay closed, so heavy and relaxed, because you are so curious about how that feels, that’s right...just like that...and deeper down. Down deeper. Deeper and deeper. Focusing on my words and letting any other thoughts you might be having just fade dim and quiet. You might find that having any other thoughts to feel a bit unpleasant, and the thought of listening to my words, and following my suggestions feels very good. Very pleasurable.”
It vaguely occurred to Michael that he, and every one else in this room were being hypnotized. He tried to have a thought about it. A concern or an opinion; but it was hard to form those thoughts. They were disjointed; scrambled, and it made him feel uneasy. As he focused again on the woman’s words that uneasy feeling dissipated. Like vapor. It felt good to focus on her words. And truthfully, a little arousing.
“Hold out your hands in front of you,” the woman commanded. “Use that powerful imagination to imagine that in your right hand you are holding a bag of sand. Turn your left hand upside down and imagine a string tied to your wrist which is attached to a large helium balloon. Very good. And as you focus on my words, I want you to imagine that bag of sand in your right hand is getting heavier, filling with more sand, and the balloon attached to the string attached to your left hand is multiplying. Doubling in fact. You can imagine 2 balloons now, 4 balloons, 8 balloons! Lifting that hand higher and higher, as your right hand struggles with the heavy bag of sand! So heavy now, your hand is pinned to your lap! Go ahead and drop that bag of sand and allow the balloons in your left hand to lift you up! Lift you up right out of your seat and that arm goes higher, and higher and higher until...the string disappears and the balloons go sailing off into the sky! Your arm drops by your side and you feel yourself going deeper and deeper into hypnosis. With every word I say, with every passing moment you find yourself dropping deeper and deeper into this relaxing hypnotic trance! Focusing on my words and following my suggestions so easily and so readily! Deeper down, and down deeper as you FOCUS intently on the instructions I am going to give you.
Michael opened his eyes to find himself in his dorm room. He vaguely recalled the focus group he had attended and how unusual, but fun, it was. The attractive woman in the lab coat. The experiment visualizing the white dot and turning it red with his imagination. How good it felt to wield his imagination that way. He thought about that woman in the lab coat. She really was quite beautiful. Tall, blonde, big tits, big ass. He could picture what she would look like naked. He thought he would sketch that later. He could see her so clearly. He felt himself getting hard. He checked his watch. There was no place he had to be.
Michael got undressed. Right there in the middle of his dorm room. There was something terribly naughty about just standing in the middle of his room, naked and with a large erection demanding his attention. He imagined the woman getting undressed right in front of him. Letting her clothes just fall where she stood. She began to caress her breasts as she looked at his penis. She seemed so flattered, so touched that he was so hard for her.
Michael heard her say, “stroke yourself for me. I want to see you come.” Michael did as she commanded. There was something terribly erotic about being commanded this way. As if he had no choice but to obey her. She began to stroke her pussy as well. It looked so swollen and needy. It aroused Michael even more. It ached with its hardness for her. He coated his hand with the pre-cum that was leaking from the tip and stroked himself even faster. This seemed to excite the woman even more and matched his pace with her own.
He was close to coming, as was the woman in his imagination. She was so turned on by him, which in turn, aroused him further.
At last he erupted with a throaty gasp. His cock twitched and his hips convulsed as spurts of ropey cum erupted from his penis. The woman was so close now and he painted her body with it. This made her cum as well and Michael could see how pleased she was with him.
“That’s it, Michael, come for me,” she coo’d “Release yourself and feel yourself getting sleepy now, just like you always do whenever you come. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” Michael heard himself say. And he felt a wave of irresistible drowsiness take him.
“It feels so good to feel sleepy. You want to close your eyes and drift into a deep sleep now, don’t you, Michael?”
“Yes,” he said again automatically. It vaguely occurred to Michael that this was a strange part of this fantasy. Obeying her and feeling wonderfully sleepy. He began to sit back down in the comfy recliner behind him. For a moment he wondered when he’d gotten a recliner in his dorm room, but that thought quickly passed as his thoughts grew still and the wonderfully soft sleepiness overtook him.
Dr. Rose stood on stage along with her patrons. Mostly men, but some women who looked on with great awe at her work. She was unashamedly horny as she watched all these young people fall under hypnotic spell and follow her lewd suggestions. 30 men and women naked and helplessly masturbating in front of her. Lost in their fantasy. So much better than porn. So authentic. Passionate. She felt like an ancient priestess receiving tribute from her accolades. Being worshipped as a pleasure goddess.
The woman standing next to her had her hand over her mouth. A mix of shock and the embarrassment of arousal.
“I don’t understand,” she said, “how were you so sure they all could be hypnotized? I mean...this...”
Dr. Rose took pride in her process and was happy to explain.
“Well, there’s a few factors at play Ms. White,” she said very matter of factly. “For starters, everyone here has been pre-screened for hypnotic susepctiblity. The forms they filled out allowed us to select only the most suggestible. High imagination skills, high visual skills, that sort of thing. And the trance you saw, the white dot/red dot sort of thing... it’s a cheat really. They aren’t using their imagination to turn the white dot red...I just put a red dot on the screen while their eyes are closed. It really is the most effective of convincers. At that point they are pretty much in hypnosis and easy to guide them where I want them. And where I can guide them further to tailor to your... specific wants.”
Ms. White looked out at the sea of naked sleeping bodies. So many to choose from.
Dr. Rose resumed surveying her handiwork.
All these different beautiful bodies. Big, small, tall, short. Small breasts, enormous breasts and all the different kinds of cocks. She loved all the hard cocks. The small thin ones, and the beastly thick ones, and all the ones in between. She wanted them all.
She loved seeing their faces. The neediness. The pleasure so intense it appears as agony. Hearing their moans. Their cries. Watching the men spurt their seed. So much variety! Some dribbling out while others would send forth an impressive spray (often times coating the participant in front of them!)
She wondered what they were imagining. What place they found themselves compulsively undressing and then masturbating. What fantasy had sprouted in their minds that had compelled them to masturbate so freely. She wondered which of them fantasized about her. She looked forward to the interviews to come when she would find out. Perhaps she would keep a few of them for herself. Some obedient toys she could further mold into her personal playthings.
Just as much as she enjoyed watching them masturbate for her, she further enjoyed watching them drop off into their helpless hypnotic sleep. Watching their bodies come down from the intense pleasure and helpless to do anything but grow tired and sleep. The women so wet between their legs. Pubic hair matted damp and that sheen that coated their upper thighs. And then men, their cocks growing sleepy, still and soft. Like little avatars of their helpless masters.
A few of her subjects had come so hard it woke them from the trance. She loved seeing the confusion on their faces. Realizing they were still in the focus group and not the place they were imagining. That wave of shock and embarrassment, realizing what was happening before sleep overtook them. Dr. Rose took such joy in watching them struggle against that powerful suggestion to sleep. Seeing their eyes flutter; seeing them trying to get up from their chairs, and seeing them lose that fight; giving in that desire to sleep, despite their understanding that they are in a perilous situation.
Ms. White broke Dr. Rose’s reverie. She pointed at Michael who was now so relaxed that he was almost sprawled out of his seat. Dr. Rose could see his cock was already stiffening again. She wondered if he was going to have a wet dream, despite the tremendous release he’s just had. She was looking forward to seeing that.
“How much for that one?” she asked as she started fumbling through her purse eagerly looking for her checkbook.