As the lights dimmed in the theater and a hush fell over the audience, Paul Walters couldn’t help but feel a wave of skepticism wash over his mind. It was the first time he was attending a stage hypnosis show and he was anything but thrilled. Part of it was because he had a troubled history with hypnosis and the rest came from a sense of inner betrayal it would take him a long time to recover from. His best friends - Eric and Thomas - had tricked him into being there.
“I can’t believe you guys did this!” he mumbled. “You said we were going to someplace cool.”
“Oh, this is the coolest shit you’ll see all year, trust me!” Eric replied. Despite being forbidden to consume alcohol in the venue, he had snuck a beer can inside the room and was rolling it between his fingers while he waited for the fun to start.
“What he said, man!” Thomas nodded. His body language wasn’t as enthusiastic as his friend’s, but he was still enjoying himself.
The three men were all in their late twenties and possessed a distinct aura that set them apart. 
Paul, with his tousled chestnut hair and piercing blue eyes that flickered with a hint of apprehension, exuded an air of quiet introspection. He had a lean frame and a furrowed brow, and it was as almost he was always carrying the weight of the world in his shoulders.
Eric, on the other hand, was the embodiment of reckless energy and charm. His sandy blond hair fell in disarray over his forehead, framing a mischievous grin that seemed etched on his face. The glint in his hazel eyes betrayed a readiness for adventure, amplified by the devil-may-care attitude he wore like a badge of honor. He was also the tallest of the trio, standing at an impressive six feet and six inches. 
Meanwhile, Thomas cut a more reserved figure among his friends. His dark curls framed a face marked by thoughtful contemplation, giving him an air of quiet intelligence. He was smart but not overwhelming and could hold a conversation about anything without sounding pompous or annoying. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and had subtle eyes with a hint of gray that made him look older than he was.
Paul shifted in his seat, getting more upset as the countdown for the great spectacle began. The descending numbers echoed in the old speakers above his head while mesmerizing swirls of neon green and electric blue danced across the velvet curtains blocking the stage from view. The scent of buttered popcorn lingered in the air, and there were smiling faces everywhere. Why everyone was so excited was a mystery and not one he was dying to solve.
The performer taking the stage that Saturday evening went by the name of Anne Chanting, a cute little moniker to stress her mesmerizing skills. The curtains opened when the numbers reached zero and she glided into view with a grace that silenced the air around her. Despite being petite and with a delicate frame, her presence commanded attention from every corner of the room.
Anne was half American, half Japanese, with her Asian heritage clear in the gentle slope of her almond-shaped eyes and the subtle curve of her porcelain cheeks. Her mid-shoulder hair was dark save for a handful of spiraling highlights whose color varied depending on the intensity of the light hitting them. She wore a flowing gown of deep midnight blue that remained practical despite hugging her slender figure in all the right places. Her movements were fluid and precise, a tantalizing dance of mystery that already had the audience thinking about what was going to happen next.
“There she is!” Eric rubbed his hands. “God, she’s so amazing!”
Paul shrugged. Yes, she was pretty, but there were pretty women everywhere. What was so special about her to make everyone so infatuated with her? It made no sense!
And then, she began to speak…
Her voice was a melodic symphony, a concert played in the key of rapture and sensual delight. It filled the room with a soothing quietness that invited everyone present to forget about the world outside for a moment and revel in the mysteries of fantasy and imagination. Her words carried the weight of a thousand whispered secrets, each syllable dripping with honeyed allure that had everyone spellbound from the start.
“Welcome, dear guests,” she said. “I’m glad you could join me for this wondrous occasion. You’ve come here this evening, looking for a world beyond the one you know, a place where the mind is more powerful than matter and no puzzle remains unsolved for long. It will be my pleasure to take you there and unearth everything you harbor within. Tonight, we shall explore the depths of your desires, the shadows of your fears, and the heights of your fantasies. It will be the most glorious experience ever as long as you remain open to all possibilities. Don’t fear the unknown - embrace it! This journey will be more pleasurable the more you immerse yourselves in it. Under my skillful guidance, you’ll soon realize that dreams are reality and reality is but a fleeting whisper in the wind.” The enchanting sentences hung in the air like dew on a rose petal. Most of the audience sat in rapt attention, their breath caught in their throats as Anne chanted to their minds.
“A great start…” Thomas muttered. “Simple yet mysterious. And her stage presence is phenomenal!”
Paul scratched his chin, unsure of what he was feeling. On one hand, he was still skeptic and avoided looking at the beautiful woman up on the stage for long, but on the other he was drawn in by the warmth of her smile. The magnetism was there, and it was as unavoidable as the need to breathe to keep on living. Sitting beside him, Eric took a sip of his hidden can of beer and crossed his legs to hide an unexpected erection. Of the three friends, he was the one most eager to fall under her spell.
Anne continued to address the audience with promises of beauty and bliss and then she called for a volunteer to join her for the first demonstration of the show. Eric jumped up, his beer forgotten under the seat, but was ignored in favor a buxom brunette sitting two rows across him. Paul grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him down, saying,
“Don’t make a fool of yourself! All these so-called volunteers are pre-selected. This is all a sham!”
“You haven’t been to one of her shows before unlike me,” Eric protested, taking his seat. “She’s the real deal.”
“Yeah, right…”
“If you don’t believe me, why don’t you try to get up there next time and show us how it’s done, huh?”
“Maybe I will, just to wipe that smirk off your face!” Paul grumbled in return, still sour at having been played to get him there.
“God, I hope she chooses you!” Eric reached for his beer and cursed when he dropped it on the floor, and it spewed liquid and foam all over his legs. It served him right for breaking the rules, Paul thought.
Keeping to himself, he focused his attention on the stage and how Anne was waving her fingers before the volunteer’s eyes. Everything happened too fast. One moment, the well-endowed brunette was saying she couldn’t be put under and in the next she was jumping around the stage, thinking she was an astronaut who had just landed on the moon. Everything reeked of fake, but the more time passed the less sure he was of his convictions.
A couple more volunteers followed: an English teacher who forgot how basic grammar worked, a security guard who froze on stage as if he were a bronze statue sculpted to perfection, and a female bodybuilder who couldn’t lift a feather off the ground. Every act drew laughter from the audience and Anne used their energy to become even more irresistible to their eyes. 
After a ten-minute break so everyone could stretch their legs and wonder what else was coming, she returned to the stage, wearing a different outfit - a red, mid-length dress with golden sequins on her shoulders and waist, - and a colorful wig that was like a rainbow swirl, and impossible to look away from. Microphone in hand, she said,
“Welcome back. So far, you’ve seen but a glimpse of what the human mind is capable of when guided by my hand, but I sense that some of you aren’t quite convinced. There are always disbelievers in our midst, so I’m talking to you now. If you think that what you’ve seen is nothing but an elaborate fake for entertainment only, this is your chance to prove your case. I invite you to make yourselves known and join me up here so we can see who’s right in the end.”
Paul couldn’t shake off the challenge that Eric had thrown his way. As Anne scanned the audience to see who was willing to answer her call, her gaze lingered on him for a moment, almost as if she could sense his inner turmoil. With a graceful smile, she extended her right hand towards him, beckoning him to join her.
“How about you, sir?” she called out, her voice brushing against his skin like silk. “Yes, you! Come here and let’s talk for bit.”
Paul’s heart leaped into his throat, surprise and trepidation competing for the dominant spot in his brain. Eric grinned and elbowed him, his face turning red as he urged him to go.
“What are you waiting for? Prove us all wrong if you dare!”
Swallowing hard, Paul made his way down the aisle, avoiding the gaze of other excited spectators and ascended the steps to stand beside Anne. Despite being taller than her, he felt himself shrinking as her eyes pierced his with all the confidence in the world. The pull he had felt from a distance was now more powerful than ever, an irresistible force ten thousand times stronger than gravity. His knees buckled when he stopped next to her, but he pulled himself together almost immediately.
“Thank you so much for joining me,” she said, holding the microphone to his hesitant face. “Could you tell everyone in the theater your name, please?”
“Hello. My name is Paul.”
“Nice to meet you, Paul. I’m Anne, but you already knew that,” she winked at him. “Is this your first time attending a stage hypnosis show?”
“Yes, it is, and no offense, but I’d rather be anywhere else than here.”
“I could see that by the look in your eyes and yet you came up anyway, a man with a mission, I’m sure. Why don’t you believe in hypnosis, Paul?”
“I never said I don’t believe in it. I do think what you’ve got going on here is nothing but smoke and mirrors, though.”
“You’re not the first person who has said that to me and I’ll be happy to prove you wrong. Before we go any further, please tell me some things you like.”
“Like what?” he asked, uncomfortable at having her eyes fixated on him.
“Anything you feel like sharing. Your favorite sport, a piece of music you can’t get enough of, the last book you’ve read… Whatever makes you comfortable and more at ease to be here with me.”
“Hmm, I like football…” he muttered.
“Who doesn’t? Am I right or what?” Anne raised the microphone above her head and the crowd cheered. “What else?”
“Horror movies make me laugh,” he continued, shaking his head.
“Well, some are so downright ridiculous I can’t blame you for that,” she chuckled. “Keep going, Paul. This is all very interesting.”
“I like women in heels. The higher the better.”
While he was talking, Paul noticed how she kept moving the microphone from side to side, describing circles and spirals, and other shapes he wasn’t sure where they began or ended. His breathing started to slow down with each question and the answers were taking longer to process as well.
“You like a lot of different things, Paul, but I’m sure you also love to relax, unwind, and find yourself in a quiet place where you don’t have to think or do anything for a while. Have you been there recently, Paul? In that special haven of your choice where the world bows down to you and Time has no meaning? Wouldn’t it be amazing to go there right now?”
Paul closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of Anne’s words sinking into his mind like tendrils of ivy wrapping around his thoughts. In the blink of an eye, he found himself transported to his living room, bathed in the warm glow of the rising sun. The scent of leather-bound books surrounded him as he settled into his favorite rocking chair, the familiar creak lulling him into a state of deep relaxation.
He could hear the subtle ticking of her mother’s antique clock on the mantelpiece, marking time in a steady rhythm that synchronized with his breathing. The gentle swaying motion of the chair matched the ebb and flow of his thoughts, slowing them down until they were nothing but fragments of a past life disappearing from memory.
Anne snapped her fingers and Paul looked down at his naked hands as if he were holding a book and the words therein swam into focus. It was a story about a shark, a great white hiding in the currents until it was time to strike. Sharp teeth ripped apart the imaginary pages of the book and grazed his fingers as he stood, confused and on the verge of panic only to…
… blink his way back to his house where everything was quiet and safe, and the embers on the fireplace reminded him of all the blissful times he had spent there. The chair continued to rock, and he rocked with it, thrusting his body back and forth to keep the momentum going.
Glazed eyes, Paul didn’t notice his ridiculous posture on stage or pay attention to the laughter of the audience or the camera flashes recording the moment for posterity. Anne was whispering something in his ear, but he couldn’t make out the words on a conscious level. However, his subconscious registered them all and he smiled at the suggestions given.
“Eyes on me. Don’t look away. Don’t resist. Deep sleep. You will head backstage and meet me in my dressing room once the show is over. Wake up and smile to the audience now.”
Paul’s awareness returned to him in the middle of one last thrust. He was caught in an awkward position that suggested he had been fucking the air when the crowd went wild, and Eric screamed in his seat.
“You showed us, alright! Way to go, Paul!”
“Thank you for your cooperation,” Anne touched the back of his neck and pointed the way out of the stage. Confused, he followed her lead and climbed back to his seat where he sat with his memories all jumbled.
“What the fuck just happened?” he asked to which Thomas retorted,
“You were the highlight of the evening so far, but don’t worry about it. Relax and enjoy the rest of the show.”
Paul pursed his lips and leaned his head against the seat, wondering what he had gotten himself into and if the experience was coming back to bite him in the ass. He was only half right.

* * *

An hour later, the performance was over, and everyone was heading home. Everyone but him. After saying goodbye to his friends who couldn’t stop laughing at the spectacle he had given them, Paul focused only on responding to Anne’s hypnotic suggestion. Eric and Thomas refused to tell him the things he had done on stage but there was enough photographic evidence out there to make him blush for a lifetime or more.
No one batted an eye or complained when he entered the backstage area to search for her dressing room. All the men and women working there had the same dull smile on their faces and looked at him as if they couldn’t care less about his meandering.
Anne Chanting’s quarters were hard to miss. All he had to do was follow the smell of fresh roses and unbridled lust. The door was open - though not for long - and she had just finished slipping off her second dress and into a set of intoxicating black and white lingerie. The hypnotist sat in front of a covered-up curved mirror, legs crossed, and sipping champagne.
“Good pet,” she purred, laying the flute on a silver tray behind her.
“What am I doing here?” Paul blinked, the strange spell breaking off.
“Responding to a simple suggestion, dear. You were quite easy, easier than most to be honest, and now I’m curious. You will answer some more questions for me,” she snapped her fingers. This may have been your first show, but you were hypnotized before, correct?”
“Yes,” he droned without thinking, frozen on the spot.
“Tell me all about it. When did it happen and why?”
“I was a senior in college,” Paul muttered, reminiscing about those good old days. “The girl I was dating then loved to play with minds. I was but one of her subjects, but perhaps her most successful one. She had me so wrapped up around her finger I wasn’t her boyfriend but her mind-controlled slave.”
“Lovely…” Anne purred. “Tell me more.”
As Paul recounted the memories of his time being hypnotized in college, nostalgia and embarrassment took over his thoughts. He remembered how his ex-girlfriend Sarah would make him do the most humiliating things under her control. She would command him to bark like a dog in public, to dance like a ballerina on a crowded street corner, or to recite love poetry to strangers at the park. Each suggestion she planted in his mind would bloom into reality, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.
But amidst the awkwardness, there was also a strange sense of liberation in those moments. Being under her spell stripped away his inhibitions and allowed him to tap into a side of himself he never knew existed. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once, like walking a tightrope between reality and fantasy.
As Paul finished his tale, Anne clapped and rose from her chair to admire his chiseled form. “Sarah seems like my type of gal. I’d love to meet her, but I take it you’re no longer together.”
“No,” he confessed, a veil of sadness covering his eyes. 
“What happened?”
“She got tired of me and left me after getting everything she wanted, I guess. My mind has become quite malleable since then.”
“I can see that…” She devoured his throbbing erection with her sultry gaze. “… and I like what I see. Paul, what do you think is going to happen next?”
The entranced man looked at her, the truth flowing from his lips like a river heading to sea.
“I think you’re going to become the next Sarah. You’ll enslave me and then History will repeat itself. Deep down, I’ve always known this day would come. I didn’t expect it to be today, though.”
“Oh, I’ve already enslaved you,” Anne cupped his chin and smirked. “But no, History won’t play out the same way. I’m not leaving you when I get bored. I’m more of a ‘til death do us part girl. Do you care for a drink, Paul?”
“No,” he replied, bewildered. 
“Then I’m getting a new one,” she said, gently pushing his shirt’s collar aside to expose his neck.
The dressing room door slammed shut with no one touching it and the golden cloth covering the mirror spun into the air as if caught in a whirlwind before falling at his feet. The two of them stood in the front of the mirror, but there was only one reflection visible. Anne’s bewitching words pierced his skull again as he saw a pair of glistening fangs protruding from the inside of her crimson lips. The real show had begun.

The End