The Charlatan
First published 4/7/2016
Part One – The Bleating of the Kid
“Bunch of bloody crooks and charlatans, the lot of them. It ought to be banned if you ask me.” Rob Shaw was talking to Greg Watkins in the hotel bar as they had a drink together before dinner. The two of them got on well despite, or maybe because of, their very different temperaments.
Rob, 27, was a cost and management accountant, shy, reserved and focused mainly on his work. Greg, West Midlands area sales manager at thirty, also worked hard, but was outgoing and gregarious and liked to let his hair down. Rob found that he was more relaxed and less shy in Greg’s company and so their unlikely friendship blossomed.
The firm they worked for was fairly new and prided itself on its youth and dynamism. The MD was only 35 and most of the senior management younger than that. They consciously tried to create a liberal, relaxed culture, believing that this helped foster creativity.
They were all staying at this hotel for the company’s annual strategy planning retreat. The idea was to take people away from their usual working environment for two days of ‘blue sky thinking.’ Phrases like this made it hard for Rob to avoid the temptation to play ‘bullshit bingo’; no doubt they’d be proactively thinking outside the box and pushing the envelope going forward! English is a beautiful language, why mangle it?
Anyway, there were people here from Accounting, Marketing, Sales, HR (another tick on the scorecard; what’s wrong with Personnel?), Design & Engineering, Production, Logistics and, of course, the board members, about forty people all told. The event was held on Thursday and Friday and the business would just have to tick along without them until Monday.
This was the second day and Rob was irked because he had hoped to leave as soon as it finished around six but had been told everyone was required to attend a breakfast presentation summarising the new strategy at 8 a.m. the next morning, which meant another night in the hotel.
Worse still, in the name of team (tick) building (tick), and intra-group bonding (bloody hell, big tick) everyone was required to attend a dinner in a private function room, followed by ‘entertainment’ from a hypnotist. From what Rob had heard this was a particularly tacky and unpleasant way to get a cheap laugh at other people’s expense.
“This is to be a relaxed and informal occasion” Tim Purvis the MD had stressed. “I want as little shop-talk as possible and no attempt at working and what happens here stays here, I want everyone relaxed. So please leave all your papers and electronic devices in your rooms; if I see anyone with a computer or phone this evening they’ll be looking for work on Monday. You’re going to relax and socialise with each other whether you like it or not.” This was mostly tongue in cheek and said with a smile; he confidently expected them to like it.
Most of the directors had demonstrated their commitment to equality and teamwork by pleading prior commitments and exempting themselves but Tim would be there as would Rob’s boss, Finance Director Alison Pearson.
“Bunch of bloody crooks and charlatans, the lot of them. It ought to be banned if you ask me” said Rob angrily. “They don’t really hypnotise anyone, you know, they just get weak-willed idiots to play along with it and then they regret it when they’re sober. Some of them get their mental health damaged by it and I don’t think that should be allowed.”
“But surely if they choose to do it that’s their choice?” asked Greg.
“Some people need protection from themselves. That’s why you have drug laws and safety laws; to protect people from risks they don’t understand.”
“Well, maybe,” conceded Greg, “But there’s not much you can do about it is there?”
“Yes, there is.” The voice came from behind Rob and he turned to see Andy Carter, a young engineer from Design accompanied by Miranda Coates from Marketing. These two considered the design and marketing of the company’s products to be the crucial drivers of its success. They had little respect for manufacturing and despised ‘bean counters’, especially opinionated killjoy ones who they suspected were paid more than them.
“Why don’t you volunteer yourself?” asked Andy.
“I bet you’re not an idiotic weak-willed drunk are you?” asked Miranda with a seductive smile. Rob had to agree that he wasn’t.
“Well then,” said Andy, “that’s why you should volunteer. Play along for a bit and then stop. Start doing different things to what he tells you and show him up. Watching the guy dying on stage has to be a better laugh than watching someone who thinks he’s a chicken pretending to lay an egg and if he makes his money exploiting the weak he deserves it, right?” Privately Andy wasn’t sure how the boss would react to having the act ruined but that wasn’t his problem. “What do you think Alison?” he asked Mrs Pearson, who had just walked over to join them.
“What do I think about what?” she asked.
“Rob thinks hypnosis is all a big fraud so we said he should volunteer so he can prove it.”
“Well then yes, maybe he should” she replied. “Everyone ought to have the courage of their convictions.”
Rob didn’t like the way this conversation was going and was beginning to regret saying anything. Standing in front of an audience for any reason made him uncomfortable. He asked Alison a technical question about depreciation allowances to distract her and steer the conversation to safer ground. Andy and Miranda drifted away, bored.
Shortly afterwards they all went in to dinner. The members of each department ended up sitting together as everyone naturally gravitated to familiar colleagues. There was free wine with the meal. Rob limited himself to one glass but a lot of his colleagues were not so abstemious. As they relaxed after their meal the MD made a short speech thanking everyone for their contribution and then introduced the hypnotist.
The Charlatan by Britguy
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Britguy
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The Charlatan by Britguy Part Two
Part Two – Excites the Tiger
Rob thought the hypnotist looked familiar. He had the feeling he’d seen him before somewhere but couldn’t think where so he decided he must be imagining it. He introduced himself as Barry Mesmer, obviously a stage name and not very original.
Barry announced that he needed one volunteer of each sex, first a lady. Miranda from Marketing and Kate from Logistics both volunteered. Barry talked to them for a minute and chose Kate. Miranda returned to her seat, good-naturedly disappointed.
When Barry asked for a gentleman the engineers and the marketing people started shouting “Robbie. Shaw. Robbie. Shaw. Robbie, Robbie, Robbie. Shaw, Shaw, Shaw” (in the same rhythm as ‘Oggi Oi'). Obviously Andy and Miranda had put them up to it. Then, as they started over with the chant, the rest of the room started to join in, not knowing why but sensing an amusing ‘stitch up.’
Susan Collins, a fellow accountant and also a fun-loving busty blonde who was sitting next to Rob, stood up and pointed to him. Barry walked over and looked at Rob. “Looks like you’ve been nominated” he commented.
Alison looked at him. “Courage of your convictions, remember. Don’t spoil things.” She was giving him that ‘voluntary is a relative term’ look. He didn’t want to do it but wasn’t brave enough to face down the pressure and refuse. He stood up and allowed Barry to lead him and Kate into a private room behind the stage.
Unlike Rob, Barry did remember where they’d seen each other. He’d been in the bar having a drink and had heard the conversation where Rob was slagging off his profession. All these stories about hypnosis damaging people had been investigated and found to be baseless. People randomly get ill. Out of thousands of people volunteering for these shows one or two randomly get ill and then they don’t think about probability they think “I was fine before the show, sick after it” and blame what seems to be the obvious cause, Barry thought angrily. It just wasn’t fair. Do people who get sick after riding on a bus blame the bus or its driver?
Not only did Barry resent the insult to his profession, he also despised the kind of arrogant jerk who thinks he knows best and wants to ban other people’s pleasures. Even if something really is risky, Barry felt, you tell people the risks and then you mind your own business and let them decide for themselves.
“Mess up my show and make me look an idiot would you?” Barry thought to himself. “Well, my geeky friend, it’s a battle of wits and wills and I’m the professional, you are the amateur. I bet you’ve never even heard of NLP have you? I’m going to have so much fun with you tonight that you’ll never want to face your workmates again. You want to put me out of work but it just might be the other way round.”
Barry had asked Tim Purvis for guidance on how raunchy the show could be and been told “Well, we’re all adults but don’t go mad. No sex acts or anything like that.” This could just about be interpreted to allow what he intended, at a stretch.
Barry asked Rob to wait outside while he put Kate into trance and then he brought him back in and said “Correct me if I’m wrong but it seems to me that you’ve been bullied into this and you’re really not comfortable with being hypnotised. Am I right?” Rob agreed that he was.
“Well then, let’s skip it. You just play along and pretend to be in trance and that way you’ll be completely in control. I won’t ask you to do anything bad, you could refuse if I did and I’ll know that, but you can show off a bit and it will be ‘my fault’ not down to you. What do you say?”
Rob said yes. The guy was playing right into his hands if he still wanted to show him up but he wasn’t sure if he still did; Barry seemed like a nice considerate guy, not the prick he’d been expecting. Barry nodded with satisfaction. The guy was playing right into his hands and he was too stupid to know it.
They returned to the stage. Just to break the ice Barry asked each volunteer to list absolutely everything they were wearing. Mildly embarrassing but not too bad and Rob needed to play along, at least for a bit. Kate went first: “Makeup, shoes, tights, skirt, blouse, and big smile” she said. After a short pause to let the men in the room consider what she hadn’t said she added coyly “Oh, and my sexy red bra and knickers of course” which produced a mixture of laughter and groans.
Rob was next: “Shoes, socks, trousers, shirt, tie, jacket, wristwatch. Oh, and my totally unsexy blue boxer shorts of course” he mimicked, jokingly.
(“Good,” thought Barry, “You’re starting to get used to obeying me. Hypnosis isn’t my only tool, not even the most important. Twenty minutes ago you’d never have made a joke describing your underwear to your colleagues. Let’s soften you up a bit more before the coup de grace.”)
Aloud he said “Okay, sleep.” Their heads slumped forwards as they pretended to sleep. “When I clap my hands Kate is a parrot, flying around the room, Rob is a cat, crying for his supper. Everyone likes a nice pussy right?” (Get their minds moving in the right direction.)
Barry clapped his hands. Kate started running around the stage screeching and flapping her arms while Rob got on all fours rubbing against Barry’s legs and meowing. “That bird is really annoying” said Barry. “Where’s my weapon?” He made an imaginary gun with his hand and pointed it at Kate. “Sleep, Kate” he commanded. She returned to her original position on stage, head hanging.
“Pussy’s hungry, she needs some meat” – (The audience is loving the double entendres; they don’t know the half of it.) – “but I don’t have anything for her. Sleep Rob.” He stood next to Kate.
“Now when I clap my hands Kate is a sheep, and she’s scared of dogs. Rob is a dog and he wants to chase sheep. Kate will run into the audience to get away and we’ll need some volunteers to protect her from the big bad dog.” Barry clapped his hands.
“Baaa, Baaa” Kate bleated, looked at Rob and ran over to the table where her Logistics colleagues were sitting. A couple of them, Gary and Louise, stood up and shielded her from Rob, who got on all fours and started barking. This was fun! And everyone would think it was down to the hypnosis so he could be as silly as he liked.
Barry walked over to them. “Good doggy, calm down now.” Rob stopped barking. If he’d had a tail he’d have wagged it. “Forget about the sheep and just have a good sniff around.”
Rob never knew why but after sniffing the floor a couple of times he crawled over and stuck his head up Louise’s skirt. (Barry knew why: He had actually said “sniff a mound.” Everyone’s conscious mind had edited this into something that made sense; Rob’s subconscious heard and obeyed the actual instruction.)
Louise jumped back. “Get out of there you pervert!” she demanded. “I ought to report that.”
“Don’t be angry” pleaded Barry. “He’s not a pervert he’s a dog and it’s my fault really.”
“He’s a dog alright,” countered Louise, not yet mollified, “and it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s got a bone, but he’s not bringing it anywhere near me!” That got a laugh. Calming down a little she smiled nastily and added “Anyway, whoever heard of a dog wearing a suit and tie?”
Rob was in turmoil. Why had he been so stupid as to do that? Now he had to play along. Louise couldn’t know he wasn’t hypnotised. He just had to hope it would all just be silly games but the comment about his clothes was scary. He didn’t want to be crawling around in his underwear.
“Well, let’s compromise shall we?” suggested Barry. (This was going exactly according to plan. Reel the fish in gently and carefully lest it break the line.) “He can be a dog from the waist up, conservative businessman below. Sit up, boy.” Rob knelt as Barry removed his jacket, loosened his tie and then took his shirt off, leaving the tie in place. Rob didn’t like this and felt very self-conscious but didn’t see any alternative.
Barry turned Rob’s tie around so that it hung down his back and then gestured for him to get back on all fours. Grabbing the end of the tie he said “Doggy’s on a lead now, so sheep will be safe.” Rob hated the degrading sensation of being on a lead and hoped they could soon move on.
Kate stopped a couple of feet away from him. “Baa, Baa” she taunted. Playing along, Rob lunged at her, barking, but was stopped by the ‘lead.’ “Sleep now, and go back on stage” said Barry. The audience seemed to be enjoying a good laugh watching their colleagues making fools of themselves.
Rob thought the hypnotist looked familiar. He had the feeling he’d seen him before somewhere but couldn’t think where so he decided he must be imagining it. He introduced himself as Barry Mesmer, obviously a stage name and not very original.
Barry announced that he needed one volunteer of each sex, first a lady. Miranda from Marketing and Kate from Logistics both volunteered. Barry talked to them for a minute and chose Kate. Miranda returned to her seat, good-naturedly disappointed.
When Barry asked for a gentleman the engineers and the marketing people started shouting “Robbie. Shaw. Robbie. Shaw. Robbie, Robbie, Robbie. Shaw, Shaw, Shaw” (in the same rhythm as ‘Oggi Oi'). Obviously Andy and Miranda had put them up to it. Then, as they started over with the chant, the rest of the room started to join in, not knowing why but sensing an amusing ‘stitch up.’
Susan Collins, a fellow accountant and also a fun-loving busty blonde who was sitting next to Rob, stood up and pointed to him. Barry walked over and looked at Rob. “Looks like you’ve been nominated” he commented.
Alison looked at him. “Courage of your convictions, remember. Don’t spoil things.” She was giving him that ‘voluntary is a relative term’ look. He didn’t want to do it but wasn’t brave enough to face down the pressure and refuse. He stood up and allowed Barry to lead him and Kate into a private room behind the stage.
Unlike Rob, Barry did remember where they’d seen each other. He’d been in the bar having a drink and had heard the conversation where Rob was slagging off his profession. All these stories about hypnosis damaging people had been investigated and found to be baseless. People randomly get ill. Out of thousands of people volunteering for these shows one or two randomly get ill and then they don’t think about probability they think “I was fine before the show, sick after it” and blame what seems to be the obvious cause, Barry thought angrily. It just wasn’t fair. Do people who get sick after riding on a bus blame the bus or its driver?
Not only did Barry resent the insult to his profession, he also despised the kind of arrogant jerk who thinks he knows best and wants to ban other people’s pleasures. Even if something really is risky, Barry felt, you tell people the risks and then you mind your own business and let them decide for themselves.
“Mess up my show and make me look an idiot would you?” Barry thought to himself. “Well, my geeky friend, it’s a battle of wits and wills and I’m the professional, you are the amateur. I bet you’ve never even heard of NLP have you? I’m going to have so much fun with you tonight that you’ll never want to face your workmates again. You want to put me out of work but it just might be the other way round.”
Barry had asked Tim Purvis for guidance on how raunchy the show could be and been told “Well, we’re all adults but don’t go mad. No sex acts or anything like that.” This could just about be interpreted to allow what he intended, at a stretch.
Barry asked Rob to wait outside while he put Kate into trance and then he brought him back in and said “Correct me if I’m wrong but it seems to me that you’ve been bullied into this and you’re really not comfortable with being hypnotised. Am I right?” Rob agreed that he was.
“Well then, let’s skip it. You just play along and pretend to be in trance and that way you’ll be completely in control. I won’t ask you to do anything bad, you could refuse if I did and I’ll know that, but you can show off a bit and it will be ‘my fault’ not down to you. What do you say?”
Rob said yes. The guy was playing right into his hands if he still wanted to show him up but he wasn’t sure if he still did; Barry seemed like a nice considerate guy, not the prick he’d been expecting. Barry nodded with satisfaction. The guy was playing right into his hands and he was too stupid to know it.
They returned to the stage. Just to break the ice Barry asked each volunteer to list absolutely everything they were wearing. Mildly embarrassing but not too bad and Rob needed to play along, at least for a bit. Kate went first: “Makeup, shoes, tights, skirt, blouse, and big smile” she said. After a short pause to let the men in the room consider what she hadn’t said she added coyly “Oh, and my sexy red bra and knickers of course” which produced a mixture of laughter and groans.
Rob was next: “Shoes, socks, trousers, shirt, tie, jacket, wristwatch. Oh, and my totally unsexy blue boxer shorts of course” he mimicked, jokingly.
(“Good,” thought Barry, “You’re starting to get used to obeying me. Hypnosis isn’t my only tool, not even the most important. Twenty minutes ago you’d never have made a joke describing your underwear to your colleagues. Let’s soften you up a bit more before the coup de grace.”)
Aloud he said “Okay, sleep.” Their heads slumped forwards as they pretended to sleep. “When I clap my hands Kate is a parrot, flying around the room, Rob is a cat, crying for his supper. Everyone likes a nice pussy right?” (Get their minds moving in the right direction.)
Barry clapped his hands. Kate started running around the stage screeching and flapping her arms while Rob got on all fours rubbing against Barry’s legs and meowing. “That bird is really annoying” said Barry. “Where’s my weapon?” He made an imaginary gun with his hand and pointed it at Kate. “Sleep, Kate” he commanded. She returned to her original position on stage, head hanging.
“Pussy’s hungry, she needs some meat” – (The audience is loving the double entendres; they don’t know the half of it.) – “but I don’t have anything for her. Sleep Rob.” He stood next to Kate.
“Now when I clap my hands Kate is a sheep, and she’s scared of dogs. Rob is a dog and he wants to chase sheep. Kate will run into the audience to get away and we’ll need some volunteers to protect her from the big bad dog.” Barry clapped his hands.
“Baaa, Baaa” Kate bleated, looked at Rob and ran over to the table where her Logistics colleagues were sitting. A couple of them, Gary and Louise, stood up and shielded her from Rob, who got on all fours and started barking. This was fun! And everyone would think it was down to the hypnosis so he could be as silly as he liked.
Barry walked over to them. “Good doggy, calm down now.” Rob stopped barking. If he’d had a tail he’d have wagged it. “Forget about the sheep and just have a good sniff around.”
Rob never knew why but after sniffing the floor a couple of times he crawled over and stuck his head up Louise’s skirt. (Barry knew why: He had actually said “sniff a mound.” Everyone’s conscious mind had edited this into something that made sense; Rob’s subconscious heard and obeyed the actual instruction.)
Louise jumped back. “Get out of there you pervert!” she demanded. “I ought to report that.”
“Don’t be angry” pleaded Barry. “He’s not a pervert he’s a dog and it’s my fault really.”
“He’s a dog alright,” countered Louise, not yet mollified, “and it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s got a bone, but he’s not bringing it anywhere near me!” That got a laugh. Calming down a little she smiled nastily and added “Anyway, whoever heard of a dog wearing a suit and tie?”
Rob was in turmoil. Why had he been so stupid as to do that? Now he had to play along. Louise couldn’t know he wasn’t hypnotised. He just had to hope it would all just be silly games but the comment about his clothes was scary. He didn’t want to be crawling around in his underwear.
“Well, let’s compromise shall we?” suggested Barry. (This was going exactly according to plan. Reel the fish in gently and carefully lest it break the line.) “He can be a dog from the waist up, conservative businessman below. Sit up, boy.” Rob knelt as Barry removed his jacket, loosened his tie and then took his shirt off, leaving the tie in place. Rob didn’t like this and felt very self-conscious but didn’t see any alternative.
Barry turned Rob’s tie around so that it hung down his back and then gestured for him to get back on all fours. Grabbing the end of the tie he said “Doggy’s on a lead now, so sheep will be safe.” Rob hated the degrading sensation of being on a lead and hoped they could soon move on.
Kate stopped a couple of feet away from him. “Baa, Baa” she taunted. Playing along, Rob lunged at her, barking, but was stopped by the ‘lead.’ “Sleep now, and go back on stage” said Barry. The audience seemed to be enjoying a good laugh watching their colleagues making fools of themselves.
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Britguy
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The Charlatan by Britguy Part Three
Part Three - Mummy Takes Charge
Barry stood on the stage with Rob and Kate. While they were ‘asleep’ he took the opportunity to remove Rob’s tie, which had now served its purpose. “Now, we’re six or seven years old and we’re going out into the garden with Mummy. Can I have a volunteer to be Mummy please?” Many of the women raised their hands and he chose Susan, who came up on stage and was given a chair to sit in.
“When I clap my hands you’re in the garden on a lovely sunny day. You want to go barefoot and feel the grass between your toes, and you can do that. Mummy’s here and she says it’s okay.” He clapped his hands and both ‘children’ removed their shoes, and Kate her tights, Rob his socks. It was weird but he almost could feel grass underfoot as he walked around the stage. (The audience looks bored by this. Time to liven it up a bit.)
“Did I say the garden? I meant the beach, that’s where you are now. The sea looks lovely and you’re both wearing swimming costumes instead of underwear. Let’s get those togs off and have a lovely swim.” (Barry had picked the most extrovert young woman he could and had asked her privately if it was okay for her to be in her underwear. As he had hoped she loved the idea of teasing the men by flaunting her body and having hypnosis as an excuse. He hadn’t mentioned this possibility to Rob.)
Kate quickly and happily removed her blouse and skirt. She faced the room, revelling in the attention and the appreciative whistles. “You too” said Barry addressing Rob. Rob really didn’t want to remove his trousers on stage but on the other hand he couldn’t have a girl be proved braver than him in front of everyone. There was also Louise to consider if he admitted to not being under Barry’s control. He reluctantly dropped his trousers and stepped out of them.
“Now then, why don’t you both have a nice swim” suggested Barry as the laughter and whistles died down, pointing to the carpeted area between the stage and the tables. “The water looks lovely.”
Kate jumped off the stage and lay face down on the carpet, making swimming motions as she pulled herself along. Rob followed suit, at least the view from behind Kate was worth seeing. While they were ‘swimming’ Barry turned his back to the audience and surreptitiously pulled out his phone and sent a text he had composed earlier. This asked his good friend Jack Parker, tonight’s duty manager, to find a problem with the firm’s bill, and ask Tim Purvis to come and discuss it with him. Jack often recommended Barry to hotel clients, he’d got him this gig and would get an unofficial commission, so could be relied on to be helpful. Barry didn’t think anyone else would take it on themselves to stop the show in Tim’s absence.
After a minute Barry called out “Come on children, it’s time to come out now.” As they climbed back onto the stage he added “Oh, no! Little Robbie’s trodden on a sharp shell and hurt his foot! Go and sit on Mummy’s lap and tell her about it.” Rob went and sat on Susan’s lap. It was hard to believe he was sitting on a female colleague’s lap in his boxers but what else could he do? A flunkey said something to Tim, who followed him out of the room.
“That’s it, tell Mummy all about it. Daddy’s not here so she’s titular head of the family and she likes to keep abreast of things.” As before, Rob didn’t consciously notice the references to tits and breasts, he was too stressed and anxious; he just felt an urge to bury his face in Susan’s cleavage. She grabbed him by the hair and pulled him back, none too gently.
“He’s a randy little sod isn’t he?” she observed. “That’s two of us now. Are you sure he’s not faking it?”
“I can assure you I know what I’m doing” Barry told her. “He just wants comfort. How old are you, little Robbie?”
“I’m thixth” lisped Rob, betrayed by his own behaviour. “Mummy, my foot hurts!”
“Comfort him, Mummy” urged Barry. “Wrap him in this big fluffy towel so he can dry off.” He handed Susan an imaginary towel. Susan told Rob to stand up and made a show of wrapping the ‘towel’ around him at chest height and started patting at it to ‘dry him.’
“That’s right Mummy” said Barry. “Now reach under the towel and slip those wet trunks off.”
Delighted by the opportunity for revenge, Susan had Rob’s boxers round his ankles before he’d even understood the instruction, let alone had a chance to protest. Then she lifted his feet out of them and tossed them away. There was a mixture of cheers, gasps, and laughter from the audience; they hadn’t expected nudity.
Rob was stunned. He was standing stark naked in front of a female colleague and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. How had he let himself get into this mess? If he was hypnotised he was a good sport who’d been taken advantage of and would have good grounds for complaint when he ‘found out’ what had happened. On the other hand if he wasn’t hypnotised he was an idiot and also guilty of two counts of sexual assault and one of indecent exposure. He really didn’t have any choice anymore and Barry had at least as much power over him as if he really had been hypnotised. He stood there and let Susan enjoy looking at him.
Barry stood just behind Susan and a bit to her left. He looked at Rob’s feet and slowly raised his eyes until he was looking straight at his groin. He paused there for a couple of seconds giving Rob a stare that said, without words, “I’m a total stranger and I’ve got you naked in front of me and your colleagues just because I wanted to. Now I’m taking a good long leisurely look at your private parts, not with any interest but just because you don’t like it. And you have no choice but to put up with it because I won the battle of wits and now there is absolutely nothing you can do about it.” Then he raised his glance, looked Rob in the eye and smiled nastily. Rob couldn’t understand why he was being so cruel.
“Kate, come over here” said Barry. “You’re still a little girl, but now you have a special magic power. You can see through Robbie’s towel just as clearly as if it was transparent. Mummy can’t, but you can. What do you think of that?”
Kate stared at Rob, wide eyed. Then she pointed. “Mummy, Mummy, look, I can see Robbie’s little pee-pee!” Then she put her fingers in her mouth and giggled. “That’s rude!”
At least that gave Rob a welcome excuse to cover himself with his hands. The relief was palpable. But it was not to last. Susan was inspired and played her role to perfection without any need for coaching or help from Barry.
“Don’t be silly Katie” she scolded. “Of course you can’t see. There’s a towel in the way; how could you see through a towel? Stop trying to embarrass Robbie. And Robbie, you ought to know better than to believe her. Move your hands away; I can’t dry you if you stand like that.”
Time slowed to a crawl as Rob, feeling that he had no choice, slowly forced himself to return his hands to his sides and expose himself to two female colleagues and the sneering hypnotist.
Kate pointed again. “I can, I can, I don’t care what you say, I can see his little pee-pee! Such a cute little pee-pee! Oh, this is such fun!” The audience, who could see for themselves that Kate was right, were convulsed with laughter, especially the designers and marketers. They knew why Rob was in that situation and felt that this was one ‘bean-counter’ who would have cause to regret his dogmatic assertions.
Susan was having a great time. She continued patting at Rob, pretending to dry him. The pat on his genitals turned into a grope and Rob wondered just how much wine she’d had, or perhaps she just assumed he wouldn’t remember it.
“That’s enough now” said Barry quickly. There was a limit to what he could get away with and he couldn’t risk Rob getting an erection. “Sleep, Rob. Sleep, Kate. Mummy, thanks for helping out, you can go back to your seat now. Let’s have a round of applause for her.” The audience clapped as Susan returned to her friends.
Barry stood on the stage with Rob and Kate. While they were ‘asleep’ he took the opportunity to remove Rob’s tie, which had now served its purpose. “Now, we’re six or seven years old and we’re going out into the garden with Mummy. Can I have a volunteer to be Mummy please?” Many of the women raised their hands and he chose Susan, who came up on stage and was given a chair to sit in.
“When I clap my hands you’re in the garden on a lovely sunny day. You want to go barefoot and feel the grass between your toes, and you can do that. Mummy’s here and she says it’s okay.” He clapped his hands and both ‘children’ removed their shoes, and Kate her tights, Rob his socks. It was weird but he almost could feel grass underfoot as he walked around the stage. (The audience looks bored by this. Time to liven it up a bit.)
“Did I say the garden? I meant the beach, that’s where you are now. The sea looks lovely and you’re both wearing swimming costumes instead of underwear. Let’s get those togs off and have a lovely swim.” (Barry had picked the most extrovert young woman he could and had asked her privately if it was okay for her to be in her underwear. As he had hoped she loved the idea of teasing the men by flaunting her body and having hypnosis as an excuse. He hadn’t mentioned this possibility to Rob.)
Kate quickly and happily removed her blouse and skirt. She faced the room, revelling in the attention and the appreciative whistles. “You too” said Barry addressing Rob. Rob really didn’t want to remove his trousers on stage but on the other hand he couldn’t have a girl be proved braver than him in front of everyone. There was also Louise to consider if he admitted to not being under Barry’s control. He reluctantly dropped his trousers and stepped out of them.
“Now then, why don’t you both have a nice swim” suggested Barry as the laughter and whistles died down, pointing to the carpeted area between the stage and the tables. “The water looks lovely.”
Kate jumped off the stage and lay face down on the carpet, making swimming motions as she pulled herself along. Rob followed suit, at least the view from behind Kate was worth seeing. While they were ‘swimming’ Barry turned his back to the audience and surreptitiously pulled out his phone and sent a text he had composed earlier. This asked his good friend Jack Parker, tonight’s duty manager, to find a problem with the firm’s bill, and ask Tim Purvis to come and discuss it with him. Jack often recommended Barry to hotel clients, he’d got him this gig and would get an unofficial commission, so could be relied on to be helpful. Barry didn’t think anyone else would take it on themselves to stop the show in Tim’s absence.
After a minute Barry called out “Come on children, it’s time to come out now.” As they climbed back onto the stage he added “Oh, no! Little Robbie’s trodden on a sharp shell and hurt his foot! Go and sit on Mummy’s lap and tell her about it.” Rob went and sat on Susan’s lap. It was hard to believe he was sitting on a female colleague’s lap in his boxers but what else could he do? A flunkey said something to Tim, who followed him out of the room.
“That’s it, tell Mummy all about it. Daddy’s not here so she’s titular head of the family and she likes to keep abreast of things.” As before, Rob didn’t consciously notice the references to tits and breasts, he was too stressed and anxious; he just felt an urge to bury his face in Susan’s cleavage. She grabbed him by the hair and pulled him back, none too gently.
“He’s a randy little sod isn’t he?” she observed. “That’s two of us now. Are you sure he’s not faking it?”
“I can assure you I know what I’m doing” Barry told her. “He just wants comfort. How old are you, little Robbie?”
“I’m thixth” lisped Rob, betrayed by his own behaviour. “Mummy, my foot hurts!”
“Comfort him, Mummy” urged Barry. “Wrap him in this big fluffy towel so he can dry off.” He handed Susan an imaginary towel. Susan told Rob to stand up and made a show of wrapping the ‘towel’ around him at chest height and started patting at it to ‘dry him.’
“That’s right Mummy” said Barry. “Now reach under the towel and slip those wet trunks off.”
Delighted by the opportunity for revenge, Susan had Rob’s boxers round his ankles before he’d even understood the instruction, let alone had a chance to protest. Then she lifted his feet out of them and tossed them away. There was a mixture of cheers, gasps, and laughter from the audience; they hadn’t expected nudity.
Rob was stunned. He was standing stark naked in front of a female colleague and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. How had he let himself get into this mess? If he was hypnotised he was a good sport who’d been taken advantage of and would have good grounds for complaint when he ‘found out’ what had happened. On the other hand if he wasn’t hypnotised he was an idiot and also guilty of two counts of sexual assault and one of indecent exposure. He really didn’t have any choice anymore and Barry had at least as much power over him as if he really had been hypnotised. He stood there and let Susan enjoy looking at him.
Barry stood just behind Susan and a bit to her left. He looked at Rob’s feet and slowly raised his eyes until he was looking straight at his groin. He paused there for a couple of seconds giving Rob a stare that said, without words, “I’m a total stranger and I’ve got you naked in front of me and your colleagues just because I wanted to. Now I’m taking a good long leisurely look at your private parts, not with any interest but just because you don’t like it. And you have no choice but to put up with it because I won the battle of wits and now there is absolutely nothing you can do about it.” Then he raised his glance, looked Rob in the eye and smiled nastily. Rob couldn’t understand why he was being so cruel.
“Kate, come over here” said Barry. “You’re still a little girl, but now you have a special magic power. You can see through Robbie’s towel just as clearly as if it was transparent. Mummy can’t, but you can. What do you think of that?”
Kate stared at Rob, wide eyed. Then she pointed. “Mummy, Mummy, look, I can see Robbie’s little pee-pee!” Then she put her fingers in her mouth and giggled. “That’s rude!”
At least that gave Rob a welcome excuse to cover himself with his hands. The relief was palpable. But it was not to last. Susan was inspired and played her role to perfection without any need for coaching or help from Barry.
“Don’t be silly Katie” she scolded. “Of course you can’t see. There’s a towel in the way; how could you see through a towel? Stop trying to embarrass Robbie. And Robbie, you ought to know better than to believe her. Move your hands away; I can’t dry you if you stand like that.”
Time slowed to a crawl as Rob, feeling that he had no choice, slowly forced himself to return his hands to his sides and expose himself to two female colleagues and the sneering hypnotist.
Kate pointed again. “I can, I can, I don’t care what you say, I can see his little pee-pee! Such a cute little pee-pee! Oh, this is such fun!” The audience, who could see for themselves that Kate was right, were convulsed with laughter, especially the designers and marketers. They knew why Rob was in that situation and felt that this was one ‘bean-counter’ who would have cause to regret his dogmatic assertions.
Susan was having a great time. She continued patting at Rob, pretending to dry him. The pat on his genitals turned into a grope and Rob wondered just how much wine she’d had, or perhaps she just assumed he wouldn’t remember it.
“That’s enough now” said Barry quickly. There was a limit to what he could get away with and he couldn’t risk Rob getting an erection. “Sleep, Rob. Sleep, Kate. Mummy, thanks for helping out, you can go back to your seat now. Let’s have a round of applause for her.” The audience clapped as Susan returned to her friends.
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Britguy
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The Charlatan by Britguy Part Four
Part Four – A Solemn Occasion
“Now then,” Barry addressed the room, “we’re coming to the end of the show and I need to bring Kate out of her trance and make sure she’s okay but we have one last act while I do. Rob, when I clap my hands you are not a little boy any more. You are Thomas Jefferson, dressed in your finest clothes. It is July 1776 and you are reading the Declaration of Independence you’ve just written to your fellow revolutionaries. It is a proud and solemn moment; you will be staking your lives if you sign it and you all know it.”
Barry clapped his hands and handed Rob a printout of the declaration. He sometimes used this as part of the act, although normally Mr Jefferson was clothed. As Barry led Kate away, collecting her clothing en route, a defeated Rob, by now feeling semi-detached from reality but seeing no alternative, stood at the front of the stage and began to read. “When in the course of human events...” He was standing naked on a stage reading aloud to his colleagues. It couldn’t be real yet it couldn’t be denied. Surely the alarm clock must end this nightmare soon.
Alison got up and hurried out of the room. She was resolved to find Tim and confront him. Tim had organised the entertainment and Alison couldn’t countermand his instructions but seeing a subordinate full frontal naked had convinced her he couldn’t have intended that and he ought to know about it.
Barry brought Kate out of trance and made sure she was okay. She was more than okay; she remembered everything and she’d had a great time. Kate returned to her table while Barry got back on stage. Rob had spent the last few minutes telling everyone about the iniquities of King George, but they seemed more interested in discussing what they thought of his body and his predicament; they’d never imagined Tim would have organised anything like this. “We mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honour” concluded Rob, to applause.
Barry handed Rob another piece of paper that he’d hastily produced on one of the hotel’s computers. “Here is the last page of the Declaration. You need to get everyone to sign it.”
The paper was not any part of the Declaration of Independence, of course. At the top it said “I have seen Rob Shaw naked at close range at tonight’s company dinner.” There were two columns under it, one for names, and the other for signatures.
“Can I have two male body guards for Mr Jefferson please?” asked Barry. “Don’t worry, you can keep your clothes on.” Amid the laughter Andy Carter and another engineer, Peter Gibbons, walked up to the stage. “I just need you to escort Mr Jefferson around the room to get everyone who will do it to sign the declaration” Barry told them. Lowering his voice he added “and make sure the women just look and don’t touch.”
Rob was escorted around the room, stopping at each table to endure being checked out by the people at it as they signed the paper. A few refused, disgusted by the whole thing, but most thought it was a great laugh and signed happily.
When they returned to the stage Barry told Rob to “sleep” and asked the ‘bodyguards’ to each hold one of his wrists because “he may suddenly want to leave and we can’t allow it.” They looked puzzled but did what he asked.
“Now then,” he told the room, “you may be wondering why I’ve picked on poor Rob so much tonight. Well, obviously, to entertain you, but I could have done that in many other ways. I did it to teach him a lesson. You see, I was having a drink earlier and I overheard this young man talking to his friends in the bar. Apparently I’m a crook and a charlatan, my act ought to be banned and, quote, ‘They don’t really hypnotise anyone, you know, they just get weak-willed idiots to play along with it and then they regret it when they’re sober,’ unquote. Then he, this lad” – he pointed at Andy – “and another wise-guy started planning how to ruin my act and make me look a fool. How’s the plan working out for you boys?”
At this point Tim, who had been summoned by Alison and had stood just inside the door, shocked at what he saw, while Barry said all that, walked rapidly towards the stage. “Plan or no plan, it doesn’t justify this” he said angrily. “You’re supposed to be a professional; you should be able to deal with that kind of thing not seek revenge. Who the hell said you could treat a member of my staff like that? I specifically forbade it when you asked me. You two, let him go.”
“Don’t” said Barry quietly. Such was his ability to influence that they obeyed the entertainer, not the man who could end their careers. “With respect, Mr Purvis, when I asked you you said that we’re all adults and your only stipulation was no sex acts. No-one here has committed any kind of sex act. I’ve done raunchier shows than this at stag parties before now.”
“Nor anything like it, I said! I didn’t expect you to hypnotise a member of my staff and make him strip naked while he’s not in control of himself. I know Rob, and he’d never voluntarily do anything like that. Take him backstage and get him back to normal. And dressed, for God’s sake. I’ll deal with you later; you’ve not heard the last of this. You don’t imagine I’m going to pay you for that” – he pointed at Rob – “do you?”
Now Rob understood the hypnotist’s motive. He didn’t think he deserved what had happened to him but if Barry had overheard that conversation he supposed it would have irritated him, he could see that. He was just relieved that it was finally over and he wouldn’t have to suffer any further humiliations.
“There’s just one thing” said Barry. “I can’t bring him out of hypnosis because he’s not hypnotised.” Hearing this bombshell, Rob tried to get free but Andy and Peter kept a firm grip on his wrists. This was unbelievable; tonight just kept getting better. Surely the geek hadn’t done all that just because somebody told him to?
“He said that, quote, ‘They don’t really hypnotise anyone, you know, they just get weak-willed idiots to play along with it and then they regret it when they’re sober,’ unquote, remember” Barry explained. “Well in his case it’s true. I made no attempt to hypnotise him; I just asked him to pretend and play along. He’s fully conscious now, and always has been. Everything he has done is because he didn’t have the moral courage not to because then he’d have to take responsibility for his actions.
“I did use a couple of tricks of the trade to provoke what happened with those two ladies he got frisky with but they’ve seen a lot more of him than he ever did of them so I hope they’ll forgive us both.” He looked at Susan and Louise, who both nodded.
“So you see, Rob is just as responsible for his predicament as I am, if not more so. He could have refused at any point but he chose not to. You should think about how that will look if I’m forced to sue for my fee, because yes, I do expect to be paid. I was employed to entertain your staff and I’ve done so. Look at their faces.” Rob was studying the floor, avoiding looking at anyone’s face.
“Let him go boys.” As soon as they did Rob scampered across the stage, retrieving his clothes, shot into the back-stage room to dress, found a door from that room to the corridor and slunk back to his own room.
After a few minutes the phone rang. It was Tim telling him that in the circumstances he could be exempted from tomorrow’s breakfast and, if he was sober enough, he should probably leave now, if not then first thing in the morning. “I’m fine, I’ll go now, I only had a lager and one glass of wine” muttered Rob miserably.
“Good, I think that’s best” replied Tim. “I’ll want to see you and Alison on Monday about this but I think you’re more sinned against than sinner so your job’s not at risk. I thought you should know that, in case you’re worried. But I can’t stop the gossip that’s going to happen so you’d better prepare yourself for it. See you Monday.”
As Rob pulled out of the hotel car park he reflected that he didn’t know what happened to the signature sheet and wondered which embarrassing place it would be displayed in on Monday.
The End
“Now then,” Barry addressed the room, “we’re coming to the end of the show and I need to bring Kate out of her trance and make sure she’s okay but we have one last act while I do. Rob, when I clap my hands you are not a little boy any more. You are Thomas Jefferson, dressed in your finest clothes. It is July 1776 and you are reading the Declaration of Independence you’ve just written to your fellow revolutionaries. It is a proud and solemn moment; you will be staking your lives if you sign it and you all know it.”
Barry clapped his hands and handed Rob a printout of the declaration. He sometimes used this as part of the act, although normally Mr Jefferson was clothed. As Barry led Kate away, collecting her clothing en route, a defeated Rob, by now feeling semi-detached from reality but seeing no alternative, stood at the front of the stage and began to read. “When in the course of human events...” He was standing naked on a stage reading aloud to his colleagues. It couldn’t be real yet it couldn’t be denied. Surely the alarm clock must end this nightmare soon.
Alison got up and hurried out of the room. She was resolved to find Tim and confront him. Tim had organised the entertainment and Alison couldn’t countermand his instructions but seeing a subordinate full frontal naked had convinced her he couldn’t have intended that and he ought to know about it.
Barry brought Kate out of trance and made sure she was okay. She was more than okay; she remembered everything and she’d had a great time. Kate returned to her table while Barry got back on stage. Rob had spent the last few minutes telling everyone about the iniquities of King George, but they seemed more interested in discussing what they thought of his body and his predicament; they’d never imagined Tim would have organised anything like this. “We mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honour” concluded Rob, to applause.
Barry handed Rob another piece of paper that he’d hastily produced on one of the hotel’s computers. “Here is the last page of the Declaration. You need to get everyone to sign it.”
The paper was not any part of the Declaration of Independence, of course. At the top it said “I have seen Rob Shaw naked at close range at tonight’s company dinner.” There were two columns under it, one for names, and the other for signatures.
“Can I have two male body guards for Mr Jefferson please?” asked Barry. “Don’t worry, you can keep your clothes on.” Amid the laughter Andy Carter and another engineer, Peter Gibbons, walked up to the stage. “I just need you to escort Mr Jefferson around the room to get everyone who will do it to sign the declaration” Barry told them. Lowering his voice he added “and make sure the women just look and don’t touch.”
Rob was escorted around the room, stopping at each table to endure being checked out by the people at it as they signed the paper. A few refused, disgusted by the whole thing, but most thought it was a great laugh and signed happily.
When they returned to the stage Barry told Rob to “sleep” and asked the ‘bodyguards’ to each hold one of his wrists because “he may suddenly want to leave and we can’t allow it.” They looked puzzled but did what he asked.
“Now then,” he told the room, “you may be wondering why I’ve picked on poor Rob so much tonight. Well, obviously, to entertain you, but I could have done that in many other ways. I did it to teach him a lesson. You see, I was having a drink earlier and I overheard this young man talking to his friends in the bar. Apparently I’m a crook and a charlatan, my act ought to be banned and, quote, ‘They don’t really hypnotise anyone, you know, they just get weak-willed idiots to play along with it and then they regret it when they’re sober,’ unquote. Then he, this lad” – he pointed at Andy – “and another wise-guy started planning how to ruin my act and make me look a fool. How’s the plan working out for you boys?”
At this point Tim, who had been summoned by Alison and had stood just inside the door, shocked at what he saw, while Barry said all that, walked rapidly towards the stage. “Plan or no plan, it doesn’t justify this” he said angrily. “You’re supposed to be a professional; you should be able to deal with that kind of thing not seek revenge. Who the hell said you could treat a member of my staff like that? I specifically forbade it when you asked me. You two, let him go.”
“Don’t” said Barry quietly. Such was his ability to influence that they obeyed the entertainer, not the man who could end their careers. “With respect, Mr Purvis, when I asked you you said that we’re all adults and your only stipulation was no sex acts. No-one here has committed any kind of sex act. I’ve done raunchier shows than this at stag parties before now.”
“Nor anything like it, I said! I didn’t expect you to hypnotise a member of my staff and make him strip naked while he’s not in control of himself. I know Rob, and he’d never voluntarily do anything like that. Take him backstage and get him back to normal. And dressed, for God’s sake. I’ll deal with you later; you’ve not heard the last of this. You don’t imagine I’m going to pay you for that” – he pointed at Rob – “do you?”
Now Rob understood the hypnotist’s motive. He didn’t think he deserved what had happened to him but if Barry had overheard that conversation he supposed it would have irritated him, he could see that. He was just relieved that it was finally over and he wouldn’t have to suffer any further humiliations.
“There’s just one thing” said Barry. “I can’t bring him out of hypnosis because he’s not hypnotised.” Hearing this bombshell, Rob tried to get free but Andy and Peter kept a firm grip on his wrists. This was unbelievable; tonight just kept getting better. Surely the geek hadn’t done all that just because somebody told him to?
“He said that, quote, ‘They don’t really hypnotise anyone, you know, they just get weak-willed idiots to play along with it and then they regret it when they’re sober,’ unquote, remember” Barry explained. “Well in his case it’s true. I made no attempt to hypnotise him; I just asked him to pretend and play along. He’s fully conscious now, and always has been. Everything he has done is because he didn’t have the moral courage not to because then he’d have to take responsibility for his actions.
“I did use a couple of tricks of the trade to provoke what happened with those two ladies he got frisky with but they’ve seen a lot more of him than he ever did of them so I hope they’ll forgive us both.” He looked at Susan and Louise, who both nodded.
“So you see, Rob is just as responsible for his predicament as I am, if not more so. He could have refused at any point but he chose not to. You should think about how that will look if I’m forced to sue for my fee, because yes, I do expect to be paid. I was employed to entertain your staff and I’ve done so. Look at their faces.” Rob was studying the floor, avoiding looking at anyone’s face.
“Let him go boys.” As soon as they did Rob scampered across the stage, retrieving his clothes, shot into the back-stage room to dress, found a door from that room to the corridor and slunk back to his own room.
After a few minutes the phone rang. It was Tim telling him that in the circumstances he could be exempted from tomorrow’s breakfast and, if he was sober enough, he should probably leave now, if not then first thing in the morning. “I’m fine, I’ll go now, I only had a lager and one glass of wine” muttered Rob miserably.
“Good, I think that’s best” replied Tim. “I’ll want to see you and Alison on Monday about this but I think you’re more sinned against than sinner so your job’s not at risk. I thought you should know that, in case you’re worried. But I can’t stop the gossip that’s going to happen so you’d better prepare yourself for it. See you Monday.”
As Rob pulled out of the hotel car park he reflected that he didn’t know what happened to the signature sheet and wondered which embarrassing place it would be displayed in on Monday.
The End
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