Pleasure Cruise: Booking
(c) Copyright 2000 by Wiseguy
"A what?"
Dave chuckled a little at my confusion. "A hypno-erotic
cruise," he repeated, as if it were the most commonplace
idea in the world. "It's Eleanor's latest brainstorm. You
get a bunch of people who have a jones for hypnosis and
offer them a cruise package tailored to play up to that.
She floated a trial balloon across a couple of newsgroups
and the response was good enough that she wants to do it."
"Well, it's certainly a new idea," was all I could think of
to say. After eight years booking talent for the cruise
line I thought I'd covered just about every slant there is
on these specialty packages. All but one, it seemed.
"What kind of entertainment are we supposed to book for
that?"
"Hypnotists, I guess," Dave offered. "Get a mix of
different styles. The racier the better."
"Sure, that's a start," I agreed. "But we can't just book
hypno acts for the entire week. What else do these kind of
people like?"
"Beats me, Tina," he replied. "That's why I'm glad as hell
that Eleanor wants you to run with it instead of me."
I was afraid he'd say that. Eleanor seems to enjoy
challenging me with the oddball packages; it's her way of
keeping the job interesting. "All right," I grumbled,
"Give me what you've got."
It wasn't much: a couple of names and phone numbers, a few
hypnotists' web sites, and a book title. Clearly I was
going to have to do some research.
Fortunately for me, the first number on the list belonged
to a hypnotherapist named Rob. He and his Toni gave me
a crash course on the so-called hypnofetish community,
pointing me to web sites and other resources to find the
kind of entertainment this group would want. I had several
well-known hypnotists in my contacts file, of course, but I
quickly found out that erotic hypnosis acts are a whole
other genre. Rob and Toni helped me put out some feelers.
I bounced a lot of ideas off them, and eventually things
started to take shape.
We settled on a program combining a variety of stage acts
with private sessions, seminars, a panel of hypno-erotic
authors and screenings. The erotic angle figured
heavily into the stage performers and as well as the
authors; several of the people we contacted were
professional dommes, people who make a career out of using
hypnosis to sexually dominate people who are turned on by
the power. I was surprised to discover how many of those
dommes are women.
Then came the difficult part, the actual booking of the
acts and participants. Rob and Toni took care of the
professional types and authors and I farmed out the
and music to Dave. That left me primarily focused on
finding and booking the stage acts. I traded emails with
dozens of performers or their agents. Most sent demo tapes
or referred me to pictures and clips on their web sites.
After sifting through the demos I could see there were a
couple of different basic types emerging. First were the
strictly entertainment-oriented acts -- they were pretty
much the same as the conventional stage hypnotists I'd seen
before, except the stunts they used had an R-rated flavor.
Instead of telling the volunteer to be stiff and suspending
them between two chairs, for example, they'd tell the
volunteer that she's a stripper and have her start to
perform. The volunteer in the demos was almost always an
attractive woman, I noticed.
The second group consisted of the professional dommes. The
majority of these were women; all of them were way out
there, from my perspective. Some of them had stage acts
which went even farther than the R-rated entertainers. I
saw clips of people getting naked, answering questions
about sexual fantasies, being told they were having sex
with a favorite celebrity, even having orgasms on stage in
front of an audience. Watching those clips felt a little
like staring at a highway accident. Part of me was
disturbed by the shameless way these people were being
used, but another part found it weirdly fascinating. Every
so often as I looked at these clips I'd remember the
hypnotist I'd gone to a year or so before to get help with
my smoking habit. The contrast between that dry, bookish
man and these larger-than-life personalities was almost
comical.
As the booking deadline approached, things got very hectic.
There were contracts to be dealt with, schedules to make,
accommodations to arrange -- a mountain of details that come
with the planning of a successful cruise.
The mountain felt particularly steep and rocky one
Wednesday. Dave had the day off, which left me alone to
deal with the phones, and Eleanor dropped by to let me know
that passenger space was nearly sold out. I spent the day
hopping between the phone, the fax, and the computer trying
to get everyone nailed down. I barely noticed as morning
gave way to noon.
I had just hung up from perhaps my tenth phone call of the
morning when I became aware of someone standing in the
doorway just behind me: a woman, early thirties I'd guess,
with long hair and piercing green eyes. She wore a
simple but well-tailored business suit which suggested a
great figure and carried a slim attaché case. "Excuse me,"
she said in a rich, flowing voice, "are you Tina?"
"Yes," I said. There was something very familiar about
this woman as she came closer, but I couldn't quite place
her. "Can I help you?"
She held out a well-manicured hand. "I am Mistress
Ursula," she explained. "We were discussing the
hypnoerotic cruise."
It took me a few seconds, but then it clicked. Mistress
Ursula was one of the professional dommes I'd contacted
early in the talent search. I dimly remembered a checking
out her web site and references and sending her an email
outlining the basic premise of the cruise package. She had
expressed a preference for doing business in person rather
than over the net, so I'd told her to stop by whenever,
expecting never to hear from her again. But here she was,
those distinctive eyes waiting patiently while I rifled
through my memory.
"Yes, of course," I said, acutely aware that it had taken
me way too long to reply. "Won't you sit down?"
Ursula gestured at the piles of papers on my desk. "Is
this a bad time?"
"Always," I replied truthfully. "The deadline for talent
bookings is Friday, though, so it isn't going to get any
better. To tell the truth, I'm not sure we still have an
open slot for you. Did I send you a contract?"
"Yes, you did." The portfolio opened and one of our stock
contracts emerged. I saw sections highlighted in yellow
and a few notes in the margins. "I thought we might
discuss a few points."
Clearly she hadn't taken the hint about there being no open
slots, but I was no mood for a confrontation. I pushed
aside some papers and picked up a notepad and pen. "Sure,"
I said, not very enthusiastically.
If Ursula noticed anything negative in my demeanor, she
ignored it. Over the course of the next twenty minutes I
learned that Mistress Ursula was a very smart
businesswoman. Our standard contract is naturally written
to favor the cruise line, and leaves quite a few things up
to the performer. Ursula wasted no time in isolating those
things, finding out how much leeway I had to amend the
agreement, and negotiating a compromise within those
limits. We were both deep into those negotiations when
another unexpected visitor came calling: my husband, John.
"Hi honey," he said, an affable smile on his round, bearded
face. "You about ready?"
"Ready for what?" I asked, puzzled. About two heartbeats
later, I realized what he was talking about. "Argh!" I
groaned as the details came back. "We had a date, didn't
we?"
"Lunch at Luigi's," he confirmed. "Did you forget?"
"Yes," I admitted sheepishly. "I seem to be forgetting a
lot of things lately." Like the fact that I had a total
stranger sitting across my desk witnessing the scene, an
amused smile on her face. "I'm sorry," I interjected.
"Mistress Ursula, this is my husband, John."
I saw Ursula taking in John as she shook his hand and
muttered a pleasantry. Her eyes wandered over his broad
shoulders, his thinning brown hair, his cuddly trunk.
"Coming to take her away for a romantic lunch," she
remarked approvingly. "You must be a very thoughtful man,
John."
John blushed and tried valiantly not to look too closely
into the opening neckline of Ursula's blouse. "I try," he
demurred.
Time to save him. "We'll be done here soon," I said. "Can
you give us fifteen minutes?"
"Sure," he said, seeming a little relieved to focus on me
instead of Ursula. "That'll still give us time to get
there before one."
"I like him," Ursula said as John retreated to the outer
office. "How long have you been married?"
"Eighteen years," I answered.
Ursula applauded quietly. "Wonderful! Children?"
"Three," I responded, and turned their around so
Ursula could see it. "Janet is fifteen, Megan is thirteen,
and John Junior is ten."
"Three lovely children, and a husband willing to take you
on a romantic lunch date," Ursula summarized. "You must be
very happy."
"I get by," I replied, then realized I'd gotten completely
off track. Putting the back in place, I picked up
my pen again. "Anyway, you were saying..."
"You've been forgetting things lately," she noted. "Are
you feeling stressed?"
"It's a hectic time in the planning cycle," I explained,
trying to bring the conversation back to business. "Lots
of details to work out, very little time to work them out
in, the usual drill. Now then, you had an issue with item
17?"
But Ursula would not be guided. "The contract can wait,"
she said. "You have all the outward symptoms of someone
under too much job-related stress. You're forgetting
things, your workplace is disorganized, and your husband is
waiting in the outer office while you talk contracts with a
client. You need help, Tina."
I started to protest, but when I looked up at her I saw
those fiery green eyes locked on my face. Ursula looked
concerned, sympathetic. I said nothing.
"Tina," she continued, "I want you to take a deep breath.
Nice and deep, as deep as you can."
I inhaled, filling my lungs to capacity.
"Now let it out slowly."
I did as she said, letting the air out slowly through my
nose. Just as my lungs emptied, she told me to do it again
and I complied.
"One more time," she said, "and this time I want you to
feel yourself relaxing as you exhale. Let your mouth open,
let your shoulders drop, as you let the breath take the
tensions and release them from your body."
Ursula was right, I decided as I continued to breath deeply
and slowly, letting my body relax with each breath. I was
stressed out, frazzled, wound up. It felt good to relax
and breathe for a second. A feeling of great peace began
to wash over me as I sat there, my eyes still locked on
Ursula's, breathing and relaxing. My eyes started to
water, and I realized that my eyelids were becoming very
heavy, very tired. I worried that I might fall asleep, but
Ursula told me it was okay, I could let them close anytime
I wanted to and nobody would mind. Relieved, I let my eyes
close down and the rest of my face relaxed with it.
Even with my eyes closed, I could still feel Ursula's gaze
on me, watching over me. A question floated into my mind:
"Have you ever been hypnotized before, Tina?"
I heard a voice answer. "Yes," it said calmly, "I went to
a hypnotist last year to help me stop smoking. He
hypnotized me several times."
"Did it work?"
"Yes. I haven't even thought about smoking since the last
session."
"I'm very happy for you, Tina. Take another deep breath
now and go deeper for me. Deeper and deeper, Tina,
relaxing and letting go ... " Ursula's voice faded into a
faint, melodious buzz. A wonderful feeling came over me:
dreamy, distant, and serene. Hypnotized, I thought
vaguely, I'm hypnotized again. I'd forgotten how
incredibly good it feels to be hypnotized, "to drift along,
happy and free, with nobody wanting anything, nobody
needing anything, nothing whatsoever to worry about or to
do, except to relax and enjoy." Did Ursula say that, or
did I think it? No matter, it was just as true either way.
Then I heard another voice, John's voice. He sounded
surprised, nervous. My eyes were too relaxed to open and
see him, so I just said, "Hi, sweetie," and felt myself
sink a little further into my trance. I was fine, Ursula
said, I was just relaxing. Very relaxed, totally relaxed.
I heard Ursula explaining to John exactly how relaxed I
was, how I had gotten that way, all the while her sing-song
voice taking me even deeper into myself. John stopped
talking after a while, and soon Ursula was telling me that
he was relaxed too, nice and relaxed, completely relaxed.
I felt happy for John, that he could share this wonderful
state with me.
Then Ursula remarked about how amazing it was to her that
we could be so relaxed with all that clothing constricting
us, binding us, weighing us down. I hadn't really noticed
it before, but she was right. The waistband of my pants
felt tight, my collar rubbed uncomfortably against my
neck, and my bra felt like it was beginning to chafe around
my ribs and over my shoulders where the straps were. My
thighs wanted to be free from the binding elastic of my
panties, and my feet wanted to breathe without shoes
choking them. I could be so much more relaxed, so much
freer, without those things. And she was right -- even as
my arms and legs moved on their own to remove my clothing,
I felt myself slipping farther and farther into the warmth
and comfort of even deeper relaxation. By the time my last
item of clothing had fallen to the floor my entire body
felt alive, refreshed, warm and tingly.
Warm ... yes, I realized, I did feel warm. Especially in my
breasts and between my legs, I felt very warm indeed. Warm
and, as I began to explore those regions with my hands,
also quite wet. I caressed my warm spots freely and found
that as I did so, the warmth increased. Soon I was very
warm indeed, and I found that it was no longer enough to
pleasure myself this way -- I needed something more.
My eyes opened. I saw John standing right in front of me,
his eyes fixed on me, and I realized that John had warm
spots too. I reached over and touched the warm spot on his
chest and heard him moan with pleasure. I kissed the warm
spot on his neck, and felt his hands on my warm, soft
breasts. His touch sent waves of pleasure through me. My
hand found the warmest spot of all, his cock, and I was
thrilled to discover how huge and how stiff it was. His
cock radiated heat like a branding iron, and I
thought I would melt if he didn't put it into my warmest
spot right away.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lifted my legs let my
dripping slit come to rest on top of his marvelous cock.
The combined heat from our joined parts threatened to
overwhelm us both. Somebody put a hand on us and guided
John to an extra office chair, where he sat down. I took
the opportunity to lift myself up and plunge myself down
directly onto his waiting shaft, my legs crossing behind
him. His face was right near mine so I pulled him to me
for a long, languorous kiss.
We stayed that way for a long time, the heat building as I
rode up and down on him in an ever-quickening tempo. Each
bounce brought us each closer to the edge and made us want
it all the more. In the final seconds I felt a hand on my
neck, and my body relaxed again even as the best orgasm
I've ever had ripped through it. My head fell back, my
mouth fell open, and I babbled incoherently for what seemed
like half an hour as I felt John's cock twitching inside
me. There were multiple peaks with only brief pauses
between, each peak bringing a shriek or a grunt and taking
me to another place. At some point I stopped cumming and
passed out completely.
I woke up on the floor with John. We were naked, our
bodies woven together in a posture that made it very
obvious what we had been doing. At first I was totally
flabbergasted, then the memory of my visit from Mistress
Ursula began to bubble up from my subconscious mind.
Ursula! Where was she? I got up a little too quickly,
eliciting a tired groan from my barely-conscious husband,
and looked around. The door was closed and locked, the
shades drawn, and Ursula was nowhere to be found. As I
picked up my clothes, I noticed a performance contract on
my chair. It was signed by both of us -- Mistress Ursula
was now officially booked for the hypnoerotic cruise.
My business head wanted to cry foul, but I was too damn
happy to care. Instead I started laughing. Then I
realized I was standing naked in the middle of my office
laughing my ass off, and that was even funnier.
"You okay?" John was awake and struggling to his feet.
"Never better," I said, and showed him the contract.
"Looks like I'm going to have to bump somebody to make room
for Mistress Ursula."
"Is that a problem?"
"Not really. There's a couple of people who still owe me
contracts -- I'll just tell one of them I couldn't wait any
longer."
A sly grin crept over John's face. "Something tells me
it's going to be one hell of a cruise."
Our eyes met, and our minds met. I'd sold more than enough
passages on the hypno cruise to qualify for a free cabin;
when I called Eleanor and told her I was finally ready to
take a vacation, she was so thrilled she upgraded us to
first class.
I looked over at John, who was stepping into his pants.
"You'd better start taking more vitamins," I warned,
"You're going to need them."
-wg
2/25/00
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