The old man sat back in his chair and watched as another young woman strutted about the stage, dressed in just a pair of G-string panties and 6-inch platform heels. He imagined the women he would be hypnotizing later that day while they met at their leader's house. Even though he didn't know what they looked like yet, he visualized each of them in the place of the young woman up on the stage, swinging around and hanging off of the stripper pole. His manhood stirred at the thought.
He looked down at his watch and saw the time: almost one o'clock. It was just about time to go. He still had one more client to visit before he headed off to Elizabeth Raiford's house to hypnotize her, and her posse of feminists. But before he went to his next stop, he wanted to get some lunch.
He stood up from his table, remembering to grab his briefcase, and walked to the exit. The owner of the club (Larry Vaughn) was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he retreated to his office.
Once the old man returned to his car, he started up the engine and headed to a fast food restaurant.
After a few minutes, he parked the car and was about to get out, but then stopped and looked at his briefcase. He smiled, having a thought. He opened the briefcase and took out the spray bottle. Sure, he usually used the chemical on subjects he was paid to use it on. But sometimes he just used it for his own pleasure. And the times when he did it just for himself, he always gave hypnotic suggestions that went completely against someone's will. He found that if he pushed too hard, the effects were temporary. Eventually, the person's will would override the hypnotic suggestions. That's why (for work purposes) he gradually hypnotized people, over the course of two or more sessions. He wanted to make sure that the suggestions he gave would last, hopefully until the end of the person's life. One fortunate thing about the limited effects of pushing his will onto others, though, was that when the effects wore off, the person wouldn't remember their actions while under his influence.
He walked into the restaurant and up to the college-aged girl standing behind the counter. He ordered his food and she punched up the amount he owed on the cash register.
"That'll be six twenty-five," she said.
He reached into his lab coat pocket. The girl thought that he was reaching for his wallet, but that's not what he pulled out. Before she had a chance to react, the old man sprayed her in the face and then reached forward and grabbed her. He didn't want her to fall. As he held her, he made sure to squeeze her ample breasts. She made no reaction to it, except for a small moan.
"Stand up," he ordered her.
She stood straight up. He no longer had to prop her up.
"Pay for my food with your own money."
She reached into her pocket and brought out a ten dollar bill. "All I have is this," she said.
"Then break it and give me the change," he said.
She opened the cash register and put the ten dollar bill in it, then took out $3.75 in change and gave it to the old man.
"You will forget that you paid for my meal. You will think that I paid for it. Understand?"
"Yes," she said, dreamily.
"When I snap my fingers, you will awaken, thinking that I had just paid for my meal." He snapped his fingers and suddenly the girl seemed fully awake. She gave the old man his receipt.
After he got his free meal, he looked for a place to sit. The restaurant was mostly empty, which was why his little hypnotism session with the cashier went unnoticed. On the far end of the restaurant, he spotted a young woman (possibly a nanny or babysitter) and two or three kids running around, making a lot of noise. On this side, he spotted a middle-aged man and woman silently eating at a table. They both looked quite somber and were dressed in formal, yet drab, clothing. Perhaps they just attended a funeral or were about to go to one.
Deciding that the married couple was a better choice, he walked over to them and set down his tray on the table next to theirs.
"Excuse me," he said.
They looked up at him, just as he spayed both of them in the face. First the woman, then the man. He had to reach out and hold up their bodies, to make sure they didn't fall face-first into their meals.
"Both of you, sit up," the old man ordered.
They sat up at his command.
"Woman, what is your name?"
"Cassandra," she answered, sleepily.
"Man, what is your name?"
"Steven," he answered.
"When I snap my fingers, you will both awaken. Cassandra, after you awaken, you'll believe that you are my own personal slut. You will come to my table and do whatever I ask. Steven, you will not be disturbed by your wife's actions after she leaves the table. You will not care what she does with me or to me. You will continue to eat your meal as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. Do both of you understand?"
"Yes," they said, in unison.
The old man smiled and took his tray of food in the furthest corner of the room. It was well-hidden from the rest of the restaurant so it would provide him with adequate privacy.
He sat down, putting his tray of food on the table, then he snapped his fingers. Cassandra and Steven looked like they were wide awake now, but they were totally under his power. For now, anyway. As he began to eat his sandwich, Cassandra stood up from her chair and sexily walked towards him.
The old man looked up at her and smiled. And she smiled back.
"How can I please you, baby?" she asked, her voice oozing with sex.
"Why don't you give me a blowjob, honey?"
She smiled, then dropped to the floor and crawled under the table, messing up her black funeral clothes. But she didn't care. She had more important things on her mind.
As the old man unzipped his pants, he looked across the room at Steven. From where he was sitting, he could clearly see what his wife was doing, but he didn't seem to care. He just kept on eating his meal.
Cassandra looked at the old man's shriveled penis in complete delight. Then she took it into her mouth and performed as well as any slut. He blew his wad into her mouth three times before telling her that it was enough. She backed out from under the table and looked kind of sad, like she really wanted to continue. But then she seemed happy that the old man was pleased with her performance.
"That was a great meal," he said aloud, about the sandwich and fries that he had just finished. Then he looked up at Cassandra. "How was your meal?"
"Superb," she said, grinning. She was still licking some of the semen that had dripped out of her mouth.
"That's good, honey," he said, standing up and putting his manhood back in his pants and zipping up. "Why don't you go back to your husband now, dear?"
"Okay," she said, then turned around and walked back to her table.
The old man took his tray to the trash can and dumped his garbage. Then he left.
About five minutes later, Cassandra and Steven's conditioning ceased and they both had no recollection of the past twenty minutes or so.
"Is it just me, or is this food saltier than normal?" Cassandra asked her husband.
