The Power of Suggestion
– as narrated by –
Oz
State is famous for many things, but one of its many selling points is its lecture and entertainment series. Every semester, the campus brings one or two famous artists, scientists, or performers to the student lounge for a free show. Most of them are alums, and many of them are former members of Greek life. As former Zeta or Deltas, all of them are wildly successful. The shows always pack the auditorium in the student lounge, not just because they’re a free source of entertainment and education but because the talented hosts always put on a great show.
Rachel and I were both freshmen, but we already knew all about the reputation of the lecture and entertainment series, along with all of State’s other… reputations. We thought nothing could surprise or shock us.
Boy, were we wrong.
There’s one show that lives on in everyone’s memory, though no one likes to talk about it because of what happened.
She called herself the Great Gabriella. If you think that her name sounds a little bit conceited, then rest assured, it wasn’t. She was truly great, and she proved it to us during her show. Besides, magicians always have corny nicknames like that.
Gabriella’s posters went up in mid-October. They featured a full-body shot of Gabriella, a surprisingly young woman with long straight brown hair and a youthful face whose most prominent feature was a set of huge brown eyes. Her chin was tilted up a little, and the corners of her mouth were holding in a smile like she knew a damning secret and was just waiting to reveal it. She wore a smart little outfit: a pair of tight white breeches, a bright red frock coat, and a pair of patent leather high-tops. She looked sporty like she was going to a fox hunt or a dog show or something. Dangling from her outstretched hand was a gold watch on a chain.
“She looks like she’s a former Zeta sister, doesn’t she?” said Rachel casually as we walked past one of the fliers, holding hands. “Very posh.”
“Yeah, but they usually put that on the posters,” I pointed out. Gabriella’s poster did not say what her affiliation with the campus was. Most Zeta sisters proudly put it on their list of credentials right at the top, but Gabriella’s poster was strangely discrete about her accomplishments. Instead, all it said was:
THE GREAT GABRIELLA!
ONE NIGHT ONLY!
STUDENT LOUNGE – OCTOBER 29th – 7:30 p.m.
A night of mystery, wonder, magic, and redemption from a world-famous hypnotist.
Zeta Kappa Theta sisters are highly encouraged to attend with a male guest.
“We should go,” I said.
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Really, Oz? A magic show? This is college, not a kid’s birthday party.”
“Exactly! I bet it’ll be a sexy magic show,” I said, grinning and elbowing her playfully. “Come on, pleeease? It looks cool! I wanna see her pull a rabbit out of her hat!”
“Is that a euphemism?” asked Rachel dryly as I batted my eyes toward her.
“No, I really wanna see her bunny. …okay, that time, it was a euphemism!”
“Oh my God, you are such a dork,” sighed Rachel, but I could tell she was a little bit amused. “If she’s world-famous, Oz, how come we’ve never heard of her?”
I shrugged. “Maybe ’cause we forgot to sign up for World-Famous Hypnotists Quarterly. I don’t know. It’s not like we’d know if she was or not, would we? C’mon, Rachel, let’s go!”
Rachel harrumphed at me, but when October 29th rolled around, she appeared at my dorm, wearing a long, flowing orange sweater and a pair of matching kitten heels. Even her nails, long as claws, were painted a seasonally appropriate orange.
“You look comfy. Going to a pumpkin patch?” I asked.
he crossed her arms and tapped a foot at me. “I thought you wanted to go to the magic show or something?” she asked.
“Yeah!” I agreed eagerly, grabbing my jacket. “It’s a hypnotism show, not a magic show, but it’ll be awesome. Just wait and see.”
“If it’s not, Oz…” she warned, letting the threat dangle in the air.
I stole a kiss from her lips. “If it’s not, we can leave early. And I’ll make it up to you,” I promised.
The two of us left my dorm to walk across campus toward the student lounge. It was an unseasonably warm fall day, and even though the paths were scattered with dry leaves, the air didn’t feel very autumn-like. Rachel rolled up the sleeves of her sweater.
We weren’t the only ones walking to the student lounge. Along the way, we bumped into a few girls Rachel knew, Zeta pledges who had been trying to get her to join. Rachel’s always been more of a lone wolf and had no real interest in pledging, but she remained casually friendly with Bonnie and Virginia. They had dragged along a couple of Delta pledges as their dates, as the poster recommended. I waved hello to Eric and Eddie, and together, the six of us entered the student lounge and made our way toward the auditorium in the back.
The student lounge, generously donated by a gift from the Madame Xara Queen Foundation, is a sizable building, but its auditorium is smaller than most movie theaters. It could fit less than a hundred people, and we were lucky to find six seats together.
Looking around the room, I could see me and Rachel were the odd ones out. Most of the audience seemed to be Zeta sisters with their dates. Apparently, the little note on the poster asking for Zetas had been taken to heart, and we were among the only ones who weren’t Greeks.
“…gee, I didn’t know it was gonna be all Greek,” I whispered to Rachel. “Maybe she’s a former Zeta, after all!”
“No, she definitely would have put that on the poster,” replied Rachel.
“She’s probably just a fan,” added Bonnie. “I mean, we’re kind of a big deal.”
The sounds of chatter broke as the worn velvet curtains hung in front of the low stage area slowly parted. The lights lowered, and a spotlight flickered on, bathing the stage in a halo of light, leaving elsewhere in relative darkness. Several seconds passed by with nothing happening, and then a woman walked out into the light. I was struck by how young she looked; she would have blended right in on campus. At most, she was probably only twenty-five.
Was this the Great Gabriella, the world-famous hypnotist? She looked nothing like the powerful woman on the poster. She was surprisingly young, even younger than she’d looked in her picture, with soft features: a small cupid’s bow of a mouth, a button nose, and a pair of wide brown eyes that seemed to carry a hint of concern. Her long chestnut hair gleamed in the light. Her outfit was neither overly sexual nor overly conservative: a pair of plain black slacks, a top made of slippery blue material, a sensible pair of square heels, and a short black jacket over it. The blue blouse was bunched up in the front, but I was close enough to see a fairly impressive chest. Nestled in her cleavage was the gold watch from the posters; it was on a necklace, perfectly placed between her tits, like a centerpiece. Eddie elbowed me a little, and I nodded that I saw it, too.
The truth was, though, the woman on stage, aside from being pretty and having a very perky, large set of breasts, did not exude any sort of sensual energy. She looked like she might be a stage manager about to deliver bad news: the real performer was canceled, sorry everyone, go home, no refunds.
“Welcome!” she said. Despite her cute, hesitant appearance, her voice was powerful as it carried over the theater. A few people shifted, eager for the show to start. “Thank you for joining me this evening. I am Gabriella, and I have recently returned from a long journey to uncover lost exotic secrets; never before seen on this campus!”
Oh, maybe this was going to be a sex show. Eddie elbowed me again, and I elbowed him back; we both began giggling at our unspoken excitement, and Rachel pinched my thigh to get me to behave.
Gabriella waved her hand through the air, then flicked her wrist. A large bundle of white lilies appeared in her hand; the audience clapped, and she bowed deeply at the waist, beaming confidently like she had just done something incredible.
“I thought you said this wasn’t a magic show!” whispered Rachel.
“She’s just getting started,” I said. “Look, she has that watch from the poster. I’m sure she’ll use it soon.”
Slowly, deliberately, Gabriella reached into the breast pocket of her jacket and pulled out a pack of cards. She slid one out and held it up for the audience to see. The eight of clubs. With her other hand, she reached up and flicked the back of it, and suddenly, it was the king of diamonds.
“Ta-da!” she exclaimed.
The audience burst into laughter, clapping. The build-up for this simple, childish trick had been so ridiculous that it was less of a trick and more of a joke.
“Is this a comedy magic act? I thought she was a serious hypnotist,” whispered Bonnie, leaning over me to speak to Rachel.
“There’s no such thing as a serious hypnotist,” said Rachel. “Hypnotism is just a trick. It’s not real.”
On stage, Gabriella was still playing with her cards. Everyone was watching, enraptured. Well, the guys were, anyways. But it had nothing to do with the cards. It was the calves in their shapely black trousers, the shimmery blue mermaid top straining against her voluptuous chest, her face, and its sweet little smile.
Suddenly she pointed into the audience… directly at Bonnie! “And next, I need a volunteer! You, are you a Zeta sister? Why don’t you send one of those boys up!”
Her big, brown eyes swept over me, Eddie, and Eric; for a moment, I thought she was going to choose me, but then, she singled out Eric. She pointed to him and then crooked her finger, bending it in a come-hither motion. “Come on up, young man.”
Eric looked over at Bonnie; Gabriella’s voice echoed through the room. “Don’t look at her! She’s not the star of this act! You have my permission; isn’t that enough?”
Eric rose, and Bonnie looked like she’d been slapped. Eric not getting her permission in front of all of her sorority sisters… It was humiliating. And Bonnie was only a pledge; I wondered if Eric’s disobedience to her, or her inability to control him, would hurt either of their chances of finishing their pledges.
Eric walked up onto the stage without hesitation. Rachel leaned over to pinch my thigh again and whisper in my ear. “If you ever embarrassed me like that, I swear, Oz–”
“Ow. I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t!” I said, rubbing my thigh.
“Tell me, boy, what’s your name?” exclaimed Gabriella on stage, rolling her wrist around and putting her hand to her ear in an exaggerated way. “…sorry, I didn’t catch that. Can you speak up? … you’re not shy, are you? Do you have stage fright? Uh-oh! Well, why did you volunteer, then?!”
Everyone laughed, a little uncomfortable at the way she had commandeered Eric but trying to ignore it to have a good time.
Eric grinned stupidly, like the way she was teasing him was all in good fun, and she hadn’t just made Bonnie look bad.
“So, we’ve never met each other, right? Total strangers, yes?” prompted Gabriella in her silly, exaggerated manner. “Great! I’d like you to pick a card. Any card!”
She pulled the deck of cards from her front pocket, her breasts jiggling, and fanned out a deck of cards at him. She wasn’t wearing a bra; you could tell even from the audience; the thin blue blouse was doing all the work, and it looked like it was having trouble with the weight of her DDs. Every time she moved, the gold watch caught the stage light and reflected it blindingly. Her breasts were like a lighthouse.
Obviously, this was a distraction so she could perform her close-up magic. It was a cheap trick but pretty effective; the jiggling of her breasts with every movement was truly hypnotic. She bounced, waving the fan of cards at Eric, and her breasts responded to the movement, jiggling around in her shirt.
Eric plucked a card from her and held it against his chest protectively.
Gabriella watched him with a sharp gaze. Despite her long lashes and big, chocolate Bambi eyes, there was something just a little off about her.
“Now, Eric, take a look at your card and show the audience… but don’t show me!” she instructed. “Wait, hold on, let’s put a blindfold on me so you know I won’t peek. Here, take my scarf.” She leaned forward, giving her shoulders a little shimmy, and the end of a scarf appeared in her cleavage: bright red with silver polka dots. A sharp contrast to her blue shirt. The audience tittered, a few “oo” s punctuating their giggles. Gabriella wiggled at Eric invitingly.
Pull here, the tail of the scarf seemed to say. Unwrap me like a Christmas present.
He looked hopeful as he reached for the scarf to tug it. But nothing happened.
“Hey, Eric, my eyes are up here!” joked Gabriella, and again the audience laughed. “What are you doing down there, going on vacation? Pull out my scarf so you can blindfold me!”
He was trying. The scarf wasn’t budging. He kept yanking harder and harder on the scarf, causing her shirt to scrunch lower and lower, exposing more and more of her breasts.
“Eric, seriously, now. I’ve got a show to do!” said Gabriella in mock frustration. “Didn’t any of the Zetas teach you how to do this? Didn’t that little pledge who brought you here bother to train you? Tsk, tsk.”
The audience shifted awkwardly, a few offering hollow, forced laughs. But Gabriella’s insult didn’t really seem like it was friendly teasing or meant in good fun.
Gabriella didn’t seem to realize or care that her performance was starting to fall flat. She was too focused on Eric.
“Just give it one– good– yank!” she instructed him.
Eric yanked hard, and there was a tearing sound; the audience gasped as Gabriella spun around, her jacket and shirt falling away. But she wasn’t naked; beneath, she was wearing a form-hugging red crop top with a plunging necklace. It matched the spots on the handkerchief perfectly. The gold watch resting on the shelf of her knockers was as bright as ever, gold on red, gold on red, gold on red. I stared at it, mesmerized; I guess I was staring too hard because Rachel pinched me so hard I was surprised her nails didn’t pierce my skin!
“Ow,” I said, rubbing my arm vigorously.
“Next time, it won’t be your leg,” warned Rachel.
On stage, Eric was left holding the long, red piece of cloth. Gabriella bowed as the audience applauded at the costume change, though, of course, it wasn’t really magic to have trick clothes that tore away. Maybe they were just clapping at finally seeing some skin and getting past the uncomfortable teasing of Bonnie.
“Now that we’ve got that over, Eric, please blindfold me.”
Eric stepped forward only to realize the scarf was gone.
The audience began laughing; when he looked up in confusion, she was holding it and waving it at him. Yoo-hoo. When she had plucked it from his hand was a mystery; he was standing right there and had never seen or heard her move, yet she’d effortlessly snatched away the scarf! It was impressive sleight-of-hand. A little unnerving. I’d been watching her the whole time and hadn’t seen how she had gotten the scarf away from him. Well… then again, I’d been distracted by the watch.
Maybe that’s why they call it a ‘watch,’ I thought to myself. I leaned over to tell Eddie my joke, but Eddie was gawking at the stage slack-jawed and didn’t even glance at me.
Gabriella handed Eric the scarf back. “Now, seriously, blindfold me, and let’s get on with the trick! Show the audience your card,” she instructed. It was the three of spades. “Now, tuck that away somewhere safe. Your pocket, your wallet, your shoe… wherever you like. Just make sure I don’t see it! I’m going to find your card using only the power of my mind.”
He followed her request to show the card and then, with all of us watching, undid a few buttons at the bottom of his shirt, and carefully slipped the card into his underpants, so it sat at the top of his left thigh. He did the buttons back up so that he looked all neat and presentable again. The audience laughed and clapped and whistled; she sure as hell wasn’t going to find it there!
“Eric? … what’s taking so long? You’ve got to have the card hidden by now! The show must go on. Ready?” Gabriella reached up to pull the blindfold away, and she shook back her hair with a soft, sensuous sigh, turning. “Now, there’s no way I could know your card… but in the next minute, Eric, I will reveal it using my mystical psychic powers! Are you ready?””
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Is she a magician, a psychic, or a hypnotist? She really ought to just pick one.”
“Shh,” said Eddie, leaning forward and gazing with total fascination at her.
Rachel’s eyebrows shot up; no one had probably ever dared shush her before. I stared at Eddie, too, shocked at his disrespect, but he didn’t even seem to notice.
“Virginia. Keep him in line,” she warned.
“Eddie!” Virginia admonished him, but he never even glanced her way.
On stage, Gabriella pulled out the deck of cards from her pocket and held it out at arm’s length. A way to distract the audience, and Eric, as she sidled up to him, waving the pack. “Eric, is your card in this deck? Is there any chance at all it’s in here?”
There wasn’t; we’d all seen Eric stuff the card into his underpants.
“Hmm, let’s see…” Gabriella played with the fan of cards, shuffling them elaborately back and forth. Suddenly a card appeared in the middle, smaller, thicker, with a hint of metallic. “Ah-ha! This one!” She plucked the strange card and held it aloft. “Eric, is this your card?”
It was.
It was, in the sense that it was his credit card.
She waved her hand; more cards appeared. “Uh-oh. …uh-oh, I might have messed up this trick!” she exclaimed, plucking out another card. His driver’s license. “Oh, Eric, this is not a flattering photo! Well, no one ever takes a good photo for the license, do they?” she teased, fanning herself with the cards. The audience was laughing again.
One by one, she held up his credit cards, asking if they were “his card,” forcing him to grumble out a yes and take it while the audience clapped and chuckled.
“Aww, okay, okay, he’s a good sport… Eric, I apologize; it seems I’ve lost your card. Sometimes my tricks don’t work out! You can put away all that other stuff, I guess.”
Eric was left with a handful of credit cards. Gabriella smiled like a well-fed cat as he took his wallet out to replace all of the cards she’d rifled through.
And there, in the empty wallet, was the three of spades.
Eric’s jaw dropped as he pulled the playing card out of his wallet and held it up; the audience gasped.
Eric tapped at his leg where the card should’ve been, and then, apparently unable to believe it, he began unbuttoning his pants to double-check that there was nothing in his underpants. His cock easily held his unfastened pants up, and as he confirmed there was no card in there, he slowly backed away from her. He had gotten hard; when she’d lifted his wallet, she must have copped a feel. I felt a little bad for Eric, being made a fool of onstage like that.
I don’t know when, exactly, she had managed to pick-pocket his wallet, nor when he’d gotten hard because I’d been staring at Gabriella. But just as I noticed the bulge in his hands, I noticed the bulge in mine. I looked around the audience and realized every single guy was staring at Gabriella, enraptured, mouths hanging over, a tent pitched between their legs.
Gabriella grinned out at us, and she looked almost like a little girl, with rosy apple cheeks and a twinkle in her eye. But she was powerful; the hypnotic allure of her body drew everyone’s eye, men and women alike, and there was no mistaking her for anything but a full-bodied, warm-blooded woman, one with full hips and breasts and an awareness of the power of her presence.
“So, Eric, it seems like we’ve found your card after all! But what’s that on it?”
Eric flipped over the three of spades. “…a phone number,” he said. His voice was oddly flat, almost robotic.
“That’s right, Eric. That’s my number. On your card. You should call me Eric.”
“I should call you,” he repeated.
She reached up with her hand to play with the gold watch resting on her sternum, toying with it playfully. “I wonder, Eric if there are any other of your Delta brothers who might want to call me, too?” She turned to the audience, her voice growing louder. “Where’re all the Deltas? Boys, don’t you think you ought to call me so we can make some magic together?”
A hand went up, then another; suddenly, half the crowd was raising their hands, their faces full of desperate desire.
“What in the Pied Piper is this shit?” I asked, turning to Eddie, but he wasn’t looking at me; he was leaning forward, his hand thrust in the air, gazing adoringly at Gabriella.
“Eddie, what the hell?” hissed Virginia, reaching over to give his shoulder a shake. He shrugged her off of him without looking at her. His eyes never strayed from Gabriella. She had planted herself in the center stage and was holding the gold watch aloft. It twisted slowly on its chain, casting its glittery, spell-binding light over the audience.
“Why, I thought you Zeta sisters were supposed to be the ultimate dominants, in total control of your boys. But it seems none of you are as good at training your submissives as you think! Tell me, boys, who would rather come home with me tonight than spend another minute with these Zeta sisters who think they’re so special, hm?”
The crowd murmured affirmatively; even Eddie, beside me, was nodding. And on stage, Eric was, too.
One of the Zetas in the front row stood, pointing. “Who the hell are you? What’s your problem?” she shouted.
“I am the Great Gabriella, and I could have been your sister once! But you Zetas thought you were too good for me. Well, the joke is on you. I don’t need you. In fact, I’m more powerful now than you can possibly imagine, more powerful than all of you combined! And these Deltas know it. They know who the most powerful woman in this room is. And from now on, they will submit only to me. Isn’t that right, slaves?”
“Yes, Gabriella!” intoned nearly every guy in the audience, their voices flat and their eyes glassy.
“And they will submit to no one else… no one. Especially not any Zetas!”
“No, Gabriella!” they agreed.
“…Sean? Sean?” cried one of the girls behind us, trying to shake her date out of his trance. He brushed her off, completely spellbound by Gabriella.
“Trent, look at me! Trent!”
“Colin, I swear, if you don’t snap out of it, I’m not going to take that cock cage off tonight!”
In the audience, the women were trying to get their dates to look at or respond to them, but it was like they were invisible. Like Gabriella was the only one in the room.
She wrapped an arm around Eric’s shoulders, leaning on him, admiring her handiwork: the chaos in the audience, the panic of the Zetas losing control for the first time in their lives, and the trance of the Deltas.
The watch in her hand swayed back and forth, back and forth. It was making me feel sleepy and dizzy. I wondered distantly if this was the grand finale or if we’d get to see a bunny.
“I spent four years on this campus being denied my right to become a Zeta and to train with the Zetas. But now, I’m back. And I’ve come to claim what’s mine. Deltas, are you ready to surrender yourselves to me?”
“Yes, Gabriella.“
“Ditch your dates and come with me! I can satisfy you all beyond your wildest dreams… or at least, I can make you think you’re being satisfied, which is the next best thing, isn’t it? On my command, you will get hard; on my command, you will cum; on my command, you will kneel and lick my shoes; and on my command, you will leave these Zeta bitches once and for all. Not so special now, are you, Zetas? There’s only one Domme in this room: me. And every last male here is my right. Mine alone. To use, to neglect, to do whatever I want with. I don’t even care that I was never initiated because, as you can see, I never needed the Zetas after all!”
The audience was really panicking now; some of the girls were trying to get to the stage, but the room was so crowded, and the boys were so uncooperative they couldn’t even leave their seats. Others were shaking their dates, trying to get them to come out of their trance, but every guy had eyes only for Gabriella.
“Oz, do something!” whispered Rachel.
“What? Me? Why me? What do you want me to do, order a pizza or something?” I exclaimed, blinking.
Rachel pinched my leg, digging her nails into the skin and hitting a pressure point that made my whole leg erupt in pins and needles. I suddenly didn’t feel sleepy anymore.
“Ow. Okay, okay!” I rose. “Hey, that’s enough!” I called.
Gabriella’s head snapped to the side, and she glowered at me. “Oh? And who are you, stud? Hmm… you don’t seem disciplined enough to be a Delta pledge. But I think I can still make use of you. Look at my watch, little boy; see how it moves? Back and forth, back and forth…”
Rachel reached up and dug her nails into my backside; the pain was white-hot. “Don’t look at that watch, Oz!” growled Rachel.
“Ow. I’m not, I’m not!”
“Oz? What a nice name. Look at me, Oz. See how pretty my watch is?” purred Gabriella. I peeked; the watch really was pretty, so shiny and warm and smooth–
Rachel slapped my ass. “Hey. What did I say? Stop that!”
“The watch! We have to get the watch!” cried Bonnie.
“Deltas! Keep them back!” commanded Gabriella, and every man in the audience turned, blocking the women.
Rachel looked around and then, her face twisting into an expression of pure determination, turned to me. “Oz, go! Go get that watch and smash it!”
“How? Every time I look at it, I get sleepy, like I’m sitting through a World Culture lecture. Professor van Winkle is so old.”
“Now is not the time to complain about World Culture 101, Oz!” Rachel slapped my ass again. “Just go up there and grab it without looking at it!”
“I can’t turn my eyes off, Rachel!” I said, pointing to my face.
Rachel’s mouth was twisted. “I have to do everything for you, don’t I?” she grumbled, and without another moment of pretense, she reached down, grabbed the ends of her baggy sweater, and yanked it up over her head. She was not wearing anything underneath, and her breasts tumbled out, but I only got a glimpse before Rachel began wrapping my head up in the sweater, blinding me. It felt like my head was getting a hug. I reached for her, but she gripped my shoulders in a powerful clutch and turned me.
“Go, Oz!” she commanded, and her words rang out more powerfully than anything Gabriella was saying.
Sticking my hands out blindly, I groped my way forward, climbing over the rows of theater chairs. The crowd was chaos; I was buffeted by bodies as I forced my way forward.
“Stop him!” cried Gabriella, but at the same time, I heard Bonnie yell, “Look what Rachel did! Sisters, quick… shield them!”
Hands swiped at me, ripping my clothes, trying to keep me from reaching the stage. But taking a page out of Rachel’s book, the Zetas were tearing off their shirts and blindfolding the men to break their magnetic gazes from Gabriella’s watch. I heard her give a furious growl at this disruption to her plan to enslave the Deltas and usurp the control of the Zetas.
On all sides, I could feel myself brushing up against the bare skin of women who had divested themselves of their shirts to reclaim control of their submissives. Male hands snagged me while women’s pushed me forward, bared breasts and nipples sweeping my arms. It almost made me regret the sweater wrapped around my head… almost. But I knew if I pulled the wool from my eyes, then Gabriella would be the one pulling the wool over my eyes… she would hypnotize me in a heartbeat, and now that I was out of Rachel’s pinching fingers and commanding voice, I would be helpless!
I practically fell on my face when I got past the front row of chairs.
Well, the sweater probably would’ve cushioned my fall, but that’s not the point!
I staggered toward the stage, bumping into it, and I scrambled up.
“Back! Get back!” shrieked Gabriella.
I clawed my way up onto the stage, navigating by sound; I charged forward and plowed into her, frantically feeling for the watch. My fist closed around the cool metal, and I yanked, pulling it out of her hand. Triumphantly, I thrust my hand into the air with my prize clutched in it.
“Got it!” I yelled. With my other hand, I pulled away Rachel’s sweater. Standing on the stage with the watch in my hand, I gazed out into a sea of half-naked sorority sisters and the admiring, glazed looks of the hypnotized frat boys. It was just me, Eric, and Gabriella up there under the hot beam of the stage lights.
Gabriella was shrinking back, her expression full of fear, and that’s when I realized what I was holding. The power was in my hand. I could do… anything.
I stared out at the crowd; everyone else stared back, waiting with bated breath.
Fumbling a little, I waved the watch. “Delta Theta Kappas! …listen to me! I hereby command you to, uhh… not listen to Gabriella and to listen to the Zeta Kappa Thetas instead!”
“Just release them from the spell, you numbskull!” called one of the women, crossing her arms in annoyance over her chest. Beside her, a man with a shirt over his eyes was waving his hands around blindly.
“Wow, rude. Look, I’ve never hypnotized or un-hypnotized anyone, so give me a break, alright? …is this thing on?” I tapped the watch a few times.
“They have to see the watch!” called Rachel.
Hurriedly, the women reached to pull away the blindfolds.
“Ahem. Okay. Second time’s a charm. …a charm, get it?” No one was laughing; they all just stared at me, the women looking worried and annoyed, the men still in a daze, awaiting my command.
“Tough crowd,” I grumbled.
I waved the pendant. “Attention, Delta Theta Kappas and all other men under the spell of Gabriella! I hereby command you to be released of the spell she’s put on you and return to your normal selves immediately! …also, Eric, whenever you hear the word falafel, you will cluck like a chicken!”
“OZ!” barked Rachel from somewhere in the middle of the crowd.
“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t resist. Did it work?” I asked.
Behind me, Gabriella had slipped out, leaving only the fluttering curtains behind her, and I wondered if I should chase her. The watch was still in my hand, and it seemed too dangerous to hold onto any longer; I drew back my hand and lobbed it into the audience. “Rachel, catch!”
A familiar hand with sharp orange fingernails flew up as the gold watch sailed over the heads of the crowd, and Rachel caught it easily. The women in the room breathed a sigh of relief.
“…Oz? …Oz, what happened? Where’s Gabriella?” asked Eric, blinking, looking around in confusion beside me. “Is the show over? Did I fall asleep or something? Did she really hypnotize me? Why’s everyone naked?”
“Yeah, you kinda missed the grand finale,” I said, clapping Eric on the arm. “Show’s over. Come on, let’s go… I could go for some falafel.”
Eric squawked.
I grinned; the girls in the audience groaned, and I saw Bonnie put her face into her hands.
I jumped down from the stage and made my way back to Rachel as the women began pulling their shirts back on. A few of the Zetas patted my arm as I passed, thanking me; I heard a couple saying how well-trained I was and how proud my Domme must be, and I felt a deep sense of satisfaction and pride as I went back to my group.
“Oz, you did it! …but why didn’t you end up in a trance like everyone else?” asked Virginia, gripping Eddie’s arm protectively. He looked just as confused as the rest of the guys.
“Well, she was mostly just talking to the frat guys, and I’m not a frat guy,” I said with a shrug. “I guess, maybe, Gabriella had a point about Greek houses having their weaknesses.”
“Oh, please. The reason you weren’t falling under the spell was because I was pinching you the whole time,” said Rachel coolly, pocketing the watch and then examining her sharp nails to make sure they were intact.
“What are you going to do with the watch?” asked Bonnie.
“The watch isn’t magic. Hypnotism is all about the power of suggestion, not magical watches,” said Rachel. “…but… just in case, I’m going to turn it over to the head of the sorority. She’ll keep it safe. She should know what happened tonight, so none of the pledges get in trouble for losing control. After all, it wasn’t their fault.”
“Good idea. Let’s go,” said Virginia, snagging her shirt off her chair and pulling it down over her head.
The show’s abrupt end and the confusion it had caused everyone made it easy for us to slip out. Outside, the sun had set, and we breathed in the cool night air with relief that Gabriella’s plan to disrupt the natural order of campus had been averted. But something told me we hadn’t seen the last of her. She had a grudge against the Zetas for not letting her into their sorority. It was probably for the best; she was obviously unhinged, and if she had been given the kind of status that Zetas carried, who knew how she’d abuse it? But even if she didn’t have their connections, she was still a threat.
“Well, Oz,” said Rachel wearily, hooking my arm in hers as we began to make our way to the Zeta house to speak to the president, “I have to hand it to you… that show wasn’t boring, after all!”
I finished my story with a grin of satisfaction. The other guys stared at me.
After a moment, Harry asked, “So… that really happened three years ago?”
“Yep,” I said.
“And if we ask any seniors, they’ll confirm it?” asked Jung suspiciously.
“No, they’ll all pretend not to know what you’re talking about. It was very embarrassing for everyone,” I said. “The Zetas lost control, and the Deltas disobeyed. Of course, they won’t admit it ever happened.”
“How convenient. So your ‘true’ story can’t be confirmed even though there’s supposedly a bunch of witnesses?” asked Jung, raising his eyebrows.
“Hey, I’ve got proof! I still got the scars from Rachel!” I said, rising. I pulled down my pants to show them the little marks from Rachel’s pinches on my thigh; they all groaned, shielding their eyes. I was wearing my hot red underwear, and obviously, they were totally jealous. I grinned, thrusting out my hips to make them look at my package.
“Oz, you’re such a joke. Was that whole story just to show us your hot pants? Sheesh!” said Harry, laughing and passing me the bong.
“That doesn’t prove anything except that Rachel pinches. And we already knew that!” said Mike.
I lobbed the flashlight toward Mike. “Your turn to tell a story, Mike. Not sure you can top mine, though. Because it was very real and very true. Plus, Gabriella is still out there, somewhere, just biding her time. And next time…” I paused for dramatic effect. “...she won’t fail.“
“If the watch was turned over to the sorority president does that mean Bonnie has it now?” asked Mike.
“That’s right. And rumor has it she’s learned how to use it and shown some of the other top Zeta sisters, too. So you’d better watch out!”
Harry crossed his arms. “I still don’t believe it’s true. Sorry, Oz, but that’s way too far out.”
“Yeah, and it’s pretty convenient to say that all the witnesses will deny it happened,” added Jung.
I grinned at him. “Okay, you want proof? Next time you see Eric, the esteemed president of the Deltas… invite him out for falafel and see what happens!”
– The End –
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