Saturday, May 26, 2018

Stage Antics

My output seems to be rather higher this past week; I think I've posted more caps in one week than in any similar period in the last year or more. Sorry about not being more productive in the past, my muse is a bit of a random thing lately. For some reason its really hitting me just now.

As I said a few days ago, I've got a few captions, with no good pictures to really fit them. Or, at least, not enough pictures to use all the text. Today's short story is one of these.

A warning, it does end rather abruptly, as it was already too long for a caption, but I think the underlying twist is obvious enough, even without a proper 'punchline' to drive it home.

As usual, click the Read More to see the caption after the break. 

- B-Rex

P.S. Also, I am for some reason not being informed when I get new comments on these latest posts. I'm not sure why, as I haven't changed any settings. It may be a Gmail bug, or something new with Blogger. So if I don't respond to a question, please forgive me.

And so, a huge 'Thank You' to all who have been commenting on these posts! 

Stage Antics

Clara was a mind controller. A real mind controller, not some silly stage hypnotist with a ten dollar pocket watch and some silly induction routine, but a powerful, mind-bending woman who could turn anyone to her will with a mere thought.

So when the hypnotist asked for a volunteer, her hand shot up eagerly. She wasn't sure why, exactly, as she'd only agreed to go to the stage show after work at her friends' insistence. But there was just something about the man's arrogant smirk, that made her really want to wipe it off his face in person.

Plus, deep down, she was annoyed at her friends seeming adoration of this obvious fraud. It was silly, as she'd of course never showed them her own, very real, powers. But it still felt like a sort of betrayal for them to show the fake hypnotist such undeserved attention.

Her friends cheered excitedly as she was chosen, offering her drunken hoots as she sauntered confidently up to the stage. She was planning to make him cluck like a chicken, or some other humiliating act, but just as she took the hypnotist's hand to step up onto the short raised dais, she suddenly changed her mind.

No, instead of making a mockery of him immediately, she'd play along with his little act, play along and pick just the right moment to ruin his routine and make it perfectly clear what a hack he really was. That would be far more satisfying.

And so decided, she took her place beside him, and feigning interest, following his directions obediently as he swung his watch before her eyes and repeated his incantation, over and over again. She followed the pendulous motion, swaying in time to the watch.

Finally, just when she was about to lose her patience, the hypnotist proclaimed her 'under', whatever that meant.

"Now, my brave, but foolhardy volunteer will prove that she is helplessly under my control," he proclaimed with gusto. He stared into her eyes, then snapped his fingers. "Remove your dress, pet!"

Clara bit back a snort of derision, but decided to keep playing along. It was too early into the show to reveal his stupid tricks didn't work. Slowly, seductively, she slid out of her dress, revealing her underwear to the crowd. It was embarrassing, but she was prepared to put up with some humiliation if it meant undermining this raving jackass.

As expected, her silly friends gasped as her dress hit the floor, clearly buying the man's claim that she was "under" his control. It took all her willpower to keep from rolling her eyes. It was a pity she was forbidden from using her powers more judiciously, or else she'd show her friends what real mind control looked like.

"Good, my busty, but lithe volunteer," the man said, his smirk growing. "But perhaps my audience is not yet convinced, not truly certain of my power over you?" He snapped his fingers again. "Dance, dance like a stripper!"

Clara barely restrained herself from barking out a laugh at the ridiculous order, but dutifully obeyed, as if she really were under his control.

Slowly, as she wasn't used to her heels, she spun in place as if around an invisible pole, putting on a show for the naive audience. Arm out, sliding her body up and down the imaginary stripper pole, her gyrations slowly grew in rhythm. To her surprise, a very real and thick metal pole slid up from the stage floor mid-dance, but she didn't hesitate, writhing wantonly around the rod. On cue, a raunchy, pulsating sort of music began to play, adding fuel to her increasingly energetic dance.

Across the room, she saw her friends gasping still and holding up their phones, clearly recording her 'hypnotic' escapades. Smirking at their naivety, she put her all into the dance, turning it erotic, arching her back and thrusting her hips at the crowd, her hands wrapping around the pole for support as she dry-humped the air in time to the music.

"Wow, that worked better than even I expected!" The hypnotist chuckled, as the music died down to a dull bass beat. 

Clara rolled her eyes, still holding onto the pole for support. Her friends had insisted she dress up for the sexy hypnotist act, and she'd worn her highest heels for the occasion. Of course, she hadn't expected to be dancing in them.

"But, impressive a display as that was, I am still picking up a negative vibe in the room. Someone still doesn't believe that my bouncy, but flexible volunteer is truly under my control."

Yeah, me, Clara thought, smirking again.

"What more can we do to convince you? Ah ha, I know just the thing!" The hypnotist stared into her eyes again, and snapped his fingers. "Make my watch... disappear!"

Clara stared at him for a moment, then openly rolled her eyes. This was just getting silly now. She was very nearly to the point of breaking character entirely, and revealing this show for the sham it was.

Still, the effect and embarrassment would only be worsened the longer she let this whole silly affair play out, so she decided to continue playing along, at least for a bit longer.

Sighing, she took the pocket watch from his hand, and deftly snuggled it between her breasts. But her bra had been tossed aside mid-dance, and was now being lovingly caressed by a man at one of the front tables, and so her bosom, though large at a full D-cup, was not able to adequately hold the watch in place.

Clara considered her options; the watch would fit in her mouth easily enough, but it had been in the hypnotists's hand -- and who knew where else-- and it seemed very unhygienic to be putting it her mouth.

Her panties would've easily concealed the metal totem, but they were being sniffed by a man at one of the back tables. She had aimed her throw at her friends, but the scanty silk garment hadn't been heavy enough to carry that far, unfortunately. She doubted she'd be getting them back when the show was over.

Finally, Clara knew there was only one place she could hide the heavy watch, with no risk of it falling out.

Bending over before the crowd and dropping to all-fours, Clara began to push the cold watch up her asshole.

Let's see him swing it around after this, she thought spitefully, as she felt it slip inside. She carefully draped the chain up the crack of her ass, so the heavy links wouldn't fall and pull the watch free, then presented her naked rear to the audience.

"Amazing! Surely, no one could possibly question my control over my wanton little whore of a volunteer now," the man declared, as Clara rolled her eyes, and the crowd cheered and hooted in agreement.

Fools, she told herself. Naive, simpletons. She shook her head in disgust for the common idiocy about her. Forget it, they don't deserve to realize what a fraud this man is, she decided suddenly.

The man beckoned her to stand up again, then thanked her for volunteering, and offered to let her keep the watch as a souvenir. She thanked him, and then walked naked back to the table with her silly friends, pocketwatch chain hanging from her backside.

She was fully content now to let her friends continue believing in the obvious fraud, and took her seat gingerly, as the hypnotist called for another volunteer.


  1. That's one of the problems with being a secret mind-controller with carefully-hidden powers, I guess: running into a secret mind-controller with carefully-hidden powers.
    The really impressive part of his control, though, is that Clara may NEVER realize how extreme her behavior was -- anytime someone mentions it, she'll remember it as "That time I pretended to be hypnotized", and nothing more. Even being shown pictures of her performance months later, she will interpret it as not being especially shocking. She'll be genuinely puzzled as to why her boss makes such a fuss about it at her next quarterly review.
    Well, as you said, Rex, the story was a bit long already.
    Really too bad you didn't have any more photos suitable to the earlier parts of the story. One or two more would have really made this perfect.

  2. One story idea I've had on the back burner for quite some time was a mind controller who was mind controlled... like a telepath who was hypnotized to be a nudist, for example. The problem is, the hypnosis was worded in such a way that she subconsciously uses her telepathy to prevent anyone from stopping or helping her... including the hypnotist.

    1. Hmm... ironically enough, I am actually working on a hypnosis-induced nudist story at this very moment. Two separate caption stories, in fact. Though my premises requires the nudists to not have any powers of their own, as that would ruin the 'joke' as it were.

      - B-Rex

  3. Subtle. Your "punchline" endings are my favorite, but this has an interesting "silent head nod" feel to it that gives an impression of pushing your story range just that much wider.


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