“So… you wish to know the future, eh?”
Stacy Graham almost spun around and walked out of the tent at that very moment. The line was corny enough, but that Bela Lugosi accent it was delivered in? Puh-lease, with a capital P! This guy was a gypsy the way she was a blonde. And the smell in the tent didn’t help… the incense in here was so thick that she was surprised she could see all the way across the tent to the crystal ball. (The crystal ball. The man actually had a crystal ball. Le sigh.)
But before she could start to swivel her hips, she remembered why she’d come into the tent in the first place. Alec, her blind date of the evening. Another swell pick from Vicki… alright, fine, she was without a man. Manless. Sans male companionship. But did Vicki have to play matchmaker all the time? She was doing fine without a man. She was flying, soaring, swooping, and occasionally making use of a vibrator as an artificial flotation device in case of crash. She needed not the male of the species, not so long as she was well-off, living in an apartment with a maintenance man and a groundskeeper, and unwilling to get her mouth hosed down with semen.
Vicki kept insisting, though… and hence Alec. Alec of the Camaro and the ratty little mustache. Alec who used every possible opportunity to grab at whatever body parts of hers were within reach. Alec who she was avoiding as long as humanly possible by entering the fortune-telling tent, which was signposted with “One Person At A Time!” And hence, she was stuck with no real options but to sit down at the chair (which, she noted with a start, was surprisingly comfortable) and get her fortune told by Vlad, here.
He stared at her with a penetrating gaze, and she suddenly remembered he’d asked her a question. “Yes,” she said, transforming her voice into politeness–no reason to take her bad date out on this guy, even if he was laying on his act with a trowel. She’d do that to Vicki later on. “I’d like to have my fortune told.”
“Very well,” he said, his accent lessening slightly. “In order to do that effectively, we must gaze, deeply, into the crystal ball… for within it, we shall see everything that was, everything that will be… gaze into the crystal ball, feel your mind flowing into it…”
Reluctantly, Stacey turned her eyes downward. The dim light made it a little difficult to focus, but just as she was getting adjusted, he made a pass over the ball with one hand–while, she noted with her peripheral vision, switching on a little switch under the table with the other–and the crystal ball lit up with a hazy, sparkling, rotating light from below.
I can’t believe I’m actually paying money for this, Stacey moaned internally. Outwardly, though, she maintained a polite smile as she followed the trail of thought…how much was she paying for this? The man hadn’t asked for anything yet… who knows, maybe it’s based on how much money he sees you making or something. Her smile became a little less polite and a little more ‘real’.
This caused her fortune-teller to grow stern. “You are not focusing,” he said, dramatically gesturing towards the crystal ball. “Watch the lights, see the shimmer… see how the lights spin and swirl, spinning around the crystal ball like a million stars…”
A bit poetic, perhaps, Stacey mused, but I can see how ‘see the desk lamp shone through a hunk of glass’ wouldn’t cut it in the fortune-telling biz. In order to keep nice, though, she furrowed her brow tightly, aiming for a look of intense concentration.
“Excellent,” he said. “As you watch the lights, watch the spinning, watch the swirling, let it become the center of your eyes, the center of your world, as though you are not outside the ball, but inside, among the dancing, spinning stars, focusing your full attention as you gaze deeply, deeply, down into the center of the crystal ball…”
Stacey was beginning to get the glimmerings of a headache as she watched–her eyes were having trouble adjusting to the lights in the sphere–like when she’d studied a few hours too long, and the text stopped becoming individual words, and just became a big blur. The incense didn’t help, either… it was almost choking in its intensity, and she longed more than anything for a breath of fresh air. You’d also get a big old breath of Alec, she reminded herself as she continued to stare at the crystal ball. Just keep focusing, just like he says, and let him talk…
“Wonderful,” he said, as she felt a hazy warmth slide behind her eyes. The headache seemed to lessen. “You are doing so well, now, you are focused so strongly, you are watching so intently, on the deep deep stars within the crystal sphere… you no longer sense the rest of your body, now… your full consciousness is focused on the sphere, listening to me as I tell of your past, your future, your destiny… as I talk of your future, you feel aware only of my voice… you are no longer aware of your feet, your legs… they are not needed to watch and listen, and so you let them relax and sleep, now… you are no longer aware of your arms… let them rest at your sides, limply, loosely… you are no longer aware of your neck, you can simply let your head rest itself on the table, watching the lights, listening to my voice, watching the lights, listening to my voice…”
Stacey was surprised at how sleepy she felt, here, with her head lying on the table, mouth slightly parted, her whole body limp. But it was important to stay here, listening and watching. Very important. Because…
“Now, just let your eyes close down, and let the lights stay in your mind, and simply listen. Listen to the words I speak, because you know how important they are. Because they are your destiny. You cannot help but do the things I tell you to do. They are in your future, and you cannot avoid them.”
Because… because… future? Destiny? She wasn’t even aware when her eyes slipped shut, but she was sure that something wasn’t right. She lifted her heavy, heavy arms and slipped her shirt over her head, just like he’d told her she would, but that wasn’t it. That wasn’t the important part.
She forced her eyelids back open. Like hell it wasn’t! As she tried to take in the scene through eyes that were now almost totally unfocused, she realized that she was holding her shirt in her hands. The crystal ball had been switched off, and the fortune-teller had taken off his robes. Underneath them, he had exactly jack and squat on.
“You bastard!” she hissed at him, staggering to her feet. She shook her head a few more times to clear it. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The man fixed her with a remarkably straightforward gaze. “I’m trying to hypnotize you, of course,” he said, his accent now totally gone. “I like to hypnotize the pretty girls whenever we pass through a town… it means I’ve got a free ticket to paradise the next time we pass through. It’s been a while since we came through here, though, and my old girls have all moved away, so I figured I’d find me a new conquest… you seemed pretty pliant, so I thought I’d just put you under.”
Stacey seethed as she pushed back her chair. All her muscles seemed un-coordinated, though, and her mouth felt a little mushy as she pushed out the words, “Fuck you.”
The fortune-teller grinned. “That was the plan.” He stood up as well, a little taller than she was. “But you fought it.” He seemed a little unsteady on his feet, though, as he stood, swaying slightly as in a breeze. “I’m impressed. It’s very difficult to fight hypnosis.”
Stacey took a step back towards the exit before realizing she still had her shirt in her hands. No way she was going to let Alec see her like this. She started to slip her arms back into it.
“It’s so hard because hypnosis is so insidious. You think you’ve slipped free of it, and it pulls you back under.” He was definitely swaying, she thought to herself. Maybe he’s had one too many drinks. Maybe that’s what caused this whole stupid hypnosis plan.
“Hypnosis is like an undertow. You fought it, and that’s very impressive. Very good. You’re a strong fighter, fighting that deep, heavy pull. Fighting it, keeping it from pulling you under, even though I bet your muscles feel worn out and exhausted.” He was swaying less, now. But the room seemed to be tilting just a little… first one direction, then another…
“When you opened your eyes, it was so hard to do… the effort left them so tired, you have to keep fighting the urge to close them, because you’re such a strong fighter and every time you open them again, it leaves them just a bit more tired…” She was trying to put her shirt back on, but her arms seemed like they were made of jello, and the shirt wouldn’t go over her shoulders…
“When you stood up, it left your legs so weak, so feeble, that all you can think of now is how much you want to sit back down, and though you’re such a strong fighter, you feel dizzy now, so very, very, very dizzy…” She knew he was lying, but she did feel dizzy… like the room was moving all around her… the only thing that was staying still was his eyes, and she kept her gaze locked tight on them… she fought to keep her eyes open, because when she closed them, it’d be that much harder to open them again… the lids of her eyes felt like lead weights had been attached to them, but she fought so hard to keep them open, to keep standing up and opening her eyes and her eyes watered and she felt so dizzy and weak and feeble and sleepy and tired and…
Stacey slumped back into the waiting chair with a thump as the fortune teller approached her. He gently took the shirt from her hands and slipped her bra off, massaging her tits gently as he began to give her suggestions. She moaned, softly, and spread her legs as he put her hand on his cock…
He loved the fighters most. They were always so impressed with getting out of one snare that they never noticed him setting another…
THE END