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Trances part 4- B
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
TRANCES -- Part 4-B
She stopped her breathless squirming for a moment. "Would it-- would it
hurt?"
"No, sweetheart, I told you I would do nothing to hurt you. No, this
would be sort of 'pretend'. The restraints are real but very light;
they're symbolic, do you understand? That way, it's always *your* choice
whether you want to continue." Except for my hypnotic influence, of
course.
I was aware of a slight increase in Sharon's excitement (if that were
possible) as she thought about the suggestion. "Oh, wow, that sounds,...
um, it sounds really sexy. I'd be tied down? Then you could do anything
you wanted to me, couldn't you? Wow...."
Again, I thrust hard into her and her ass clenched as she grunted a
little. "God,... so big -- I feel so full,..." she murmured, and humped me
back. Sharon's youthful horniness was becoming too much to bear and I
picked up speed, ramming into her with increased force. She twisted her
hands around, where I had them pinned at her sides, and squeezed the tops
of my thighs. With each lunging stroke her body was shoved forward,
setting up more wavefronts in the bed which synchronized with the "Uh --
uh -- uh" sounds she was making. After a few minutes, her breath was
almost as rasping as mine and from the way her fingers dug into my flesh
it was clear she was also nearing another climax.
When I hit the final impalement and ejaculated for the second time into
the hot focus of her, Sharon's entire body went rigid -- even her toes,
which strained against my shins. I wished I wasn't wearing that damned
condom. Sure, the physical sensations are all there, but simply *knowing*
there's a synthetic barrier between you and the girl you're plowing can be
off-putting, at least to me. Ah, well....
It was going to be a little while before I was ready for a third round,
though I suspected Sharon could go on having orgasms all night in her
present inflamed physical and mental state. Time for play!
As we both struggled to catch our breaths, Sharon flexed her internal
muscles and gave my overheated cock a delightful squeeze. "You gonna tie
me up now?" she asked. I began to wonder if I had created an adolescent
monster.
"Of course I am, sweetheart." I eased my rather sore and wilting penis
out from between her reddened thighs and rolled over to the side of the
bed, where I peeled off the condom, tied a knot in it, and set it on the
nightstand beside the first used one ... and the other three foil packs,
which I hoped would be enough to get us through the night.
I hadn't expected bondage games, of course -- hadn't even ever taken
part in one, in fact -- so I had no rope or velvet-lined handcuffs with me.
When you're desperate, you improvise. I wondered how much John had paid
for his neckties.
"Sharon, remain face down and extend your arms and legs toward the four
corners of the bed; stretch as far as you can. Imagine the sensation of
being tied to the bedposts." She obediently stretched her limbs out,
grunting a little as she reached as hard as she could. Her red-splotched
buttocks quivered in a lovely way with her efforts. Her cunt glistened
between her parted thighs; by rights, there should have been a trickle of
my semen dribbling down onto the sheets, but that couldn't be helped.
I rummaged guiltily through our host's closet, looking for makeshift
rope, and finally discovered a small heap of frayed bungee cords -- the
sort with rubber-coated metal hooks on the ends of each three-foot length,
for tying down suitcases on luggage carriers and such. An obvious
accessory for a salesman; I might even tell John later what use I was
putting them to.
As I returned to the bed, where Sharon was becoming a bit red-faced,
both from her exertions and from renewed excitement. "Now, sweetheart," I
began, "I'm going to fasten you down. I promise you, it won't hurt.
You'll be able to get loose with no difficulty if you really want to --
but you won't want to, will you? This is a sex *fantasy*, remember: You
must keep in mind that *you* are the one who's really in control. But
since you trust me, and you know you won't be hurt, and *really* want to
try a little kinkiness, you will gladly play the role of a helpless
captive, completely at my mercy. Do you understand, Sharon? That's what
you really want, isn't it?"
"Yes -- that's what I want, I want to be helpless, you can do anything
you want to me and I can't stop you...." She trembled and licked her lips
in anticipation. Her fingers repeatedly spread and balled themselves into
fists.
I quickly looped a cord twice around her right wrist, tied a loose
overhand knot, and hooked the metal ends around the upright of the rattan
headboard. The elastic cord stretched enough to keep her arm taut. As I
hooked up her other arm, she caught my eye over her shoulder and gave me a
sultry smile through a curtain of tousled hair.
It wasn't until I turned to bind her feet that it dawned on me that
John's waterbed, like most, had no footboard. I hastily grabbed a couple
more bungees and linked them together so I could fasten one ankle to the
closet doorknob and the other to a chrome stand loaded with exercise
weights. Then I stood for a moment admiring my handiwork.
Little Sharon certainly *looked* helpless, with her slender, smoking
body stretched across the bed. She writhed sinuously, testing her bonds.
Her toes were pointed by the angle and tension of the cords, forming oddly
attractive creases across the soles of her small feet. I raked a thumbnail
lightly across the bottom of one pretty foot and she gasped and tried to
curl her foot even further. I slowly licked the sole of her other foot and
she began to shake a little. Then, leaning over her without touching the
bed, I nibbled at the back of one knee and she jerked and moaned softly.
It wasn't difficult to figure out how to push Sharon's buttons.
I crept onto the bed between her trembling legs, leaned down, and buried
my nose in the aromatic space between her cunt and her asshole. Sharon
squealed and puffed, and jerked at her bonds. Her wrists twisted and
contorted as if she were fastened much more tightly than she really was.
Separating her buttocks with my thumbs, I swabbed my tongue from her
gleaming cunt to her rhythmically twitching anus. "G-g-god!" she
stammered. I nipped the silky flesh in the depths of her cleft and lapped
again at her pussy. She was vibrating like a drumhead.
Finally, I slid my middle finger far into her molten vagina and stirred
it about to completely lubricate it for its next task. The same finger
moved up the slope of her frenzied ass and pushed slowly through her
sphincter, the tight, muscular ring clutching at me all the way, until my
palm was flat against the underside of her ass and three joints of my
finger were being Hooverized by her rectum.
Slowly, I began to finger-fuck her ass, sliding my finger almost all the
way out, pausing to build the suspense, and stabbing much more quickly back
into her.
Sharon tensed just before each thrust and sobbed a little at the end of
each. weren't sounds of pain, but of ever-mounting lust, and I was amazed
at their recuperative effect on my cock. I had never in my life screwed a
girl more than twice in a single evening, and here I was, going for my third
erection in less than three hours.
I was becoming very aware that what I really, really wanted to do was to
get my cock several feet up that entrancing ass of hers. Watching that
trembling little butt squirm and writhe as it tried to suck in even more of
my finger was almost more than I could stand. Sharon was all my most
carefully sublimated erotic fantasies come true. It was becoming a matter
not of "should I?" but of "can I get away with it?"
Could Sharon's young, very tight ass manage my cock? There would almost
certainly be a little pain at the beginning, too: Would that pop her out of
her trance?
"Sharon, I'm afraid I have to leave the room for just a moment. You
won't worry and you won't be afraid because you know for certain that I'll
be right back; you know that, don't you, sweetheart?"
"Yes," she giggled unevenly, "I know you'll be right back -- but what
about my asshole?"
"Um. Think about what it might be like to have a man's cock in your
asshole, Sharon. You've heard of ass-fucking, haven't you?"
"Yeah, I guess so.... Isn't that kinda weird?"
"Isn't being tied to the bed?"
She giggled again. "Maybe -- but it's nice, too!"
"I'll be right back," I repeated as I slid my finger out of its dark
harbor. "Imagine how nice it would feel to have my penis in your ass
instead of my finger, okay?"
She twitched her bottom and made fists as the pictures moved through her
mind. I headed out the door and down the stairs, my new erection bobbing
in front of me. Searching the kitchen for some kind of test instrument, I
thought of the jokes I'd heard and opened the sausage crisper in the
refrigerator. John apparently liked Italian food because I found a fresh
kielbasa, nearly a foot long and almost two inches in diameter. Even its
consistency was vaguely cock-like (I supposed). Back upstairs, I stopped
in the master bathroom and dug up a tube of K-Y; I would've been surprised
had I *not* found it.
Sharon was moaning slightly and her little sphincter seemed to be
winking at me. "I'm back, Sharon, and I have a surprise for you," I said
softly as I squeezed K-Y along half the length of the kielbasa and rolled
it around in the palm of my hand, coating it liberally. I also smoothed a
smaller glop of the stuff on and in Sharon's asshole while she twisted and
hummed in the back of her throat.
"Now, this won't hurt at all, Sharon, do you understand? This is just a
sex toy I found -- kind of a fake penis, just to make sure you can deal
with being fucked in the ass. I want you to tell me what it feels like,
okay, sweetheart?" I was pressing gently at the little brown ridges with
the narrow end of my "toy" and she was trying to hump the sausage.
Twisting slightly, I worked the end of the kielbasa into her ass an inch
or so as Sharon gasped and started breathing rapidly, mouth wide open.
Another two inches and her neck was bent, head thrown back as far as she
was able. Her toes wiggled slowly and I saw her arm and leg muscles tense
and release in turn. At six inches, I began to rotate the meat so its
curve changed direction within her; her buttocks seemed to shimmer with
tension and her tangled hair whipped back and forth.
"Are you okay, sweetheart? How does that feel?"
He took her a few seconds to put together a reply. "My God," she
whispered hoarsely, "there's a snake in my gut, and it feels like my legs
are on fire, and my toes have electricity in them, and I think my nipples
are lit up like Christmas tree lights! And it just goes on and on...."
Wow, some reaction. I released the kielbasa and looked at it
thoughtfully; it was half-buried in her butt and the thicker end traced
slow, complex patterns in the air as Sharon's pelvis writhed. Could she
take in the whole thing? But if she did,... how would my merely human
cock compete afterward? Perhaps I hadn't thought far enough ahead. Oh,
the hell with it.
I continued to work the sausage into Sharon's asshole, which dilated to
accommodate it. I added more K-Y around the wide-stretched ring; it felt
strange to the touch but didn't seem in danger of being damaged.
I became so mesmerized by what I was doing that it wasn't until I could
no longer get a grip on the thing that I realized only an inch or so still
protruded from her rectum, like a stumpy little tail. Sharon's back was
tightly arched and she was making a prolonged "Unnnnhhhh..." sound.
A bright scarlet sexual flush had crept down her neck and shoulders and
there was no doubt about her state of arousal -- nor about my own. My cock
ached so much I was almost afraid to touch it.
"What do you feel like now, Sharon?"
"Ohhhh.... You're so huge and long in my butt, I don't believe it! Are
you going to come inside me? Are you?" In her extreme excitement, she
seemed to have forgotten the kielbasa was supposed to be a "toy." And it
was a sure thing that I was going to come somewhere.
"I'm going to pull out and then go back in," I replied hastily, and
began extracting the sausage, pausing every inch or so to thrust it back
into her as if I were fucking her for real. Her moans became louder and
her gyrations more athletic at each plunge.
As the length of the kielbasa emerged, I was a bit surprised to find
none of the shit stains I had expected. That reassured me, though. As the
last bit of the sausage appeared, I positioned myself above that lovely
little ass. Tossing the "toy" over my shoulder, I plunged through her
vibrating sphincter, burying my cock completely in one thrust. It might
not have felt like a lot to Sharon by comparison, but it was exquisite to
me.
I pulled partway out and rammed into her again and she buried her face
in the sheets and sobbed under her breath. I'd thought her virginal cunt
was tight but her rectum was unbelievable, and there was no end to it. My
balls banged against her pussy and I ran my hands up and down her flanks.
My vision was clouded, I was so transported. I could hold out for only
two or three minutes before I geysered again, the third time that
evening. It felt like I was shooting sperm as far as her kidneys.
Sharon's sobbing was louder and she was gasping "Oh -- oh -- oh" between
gulps. Neither of us was able to move at all for five or six minutes.
Her lovely adolescent ass still held my organ so tightly in its grasp, I
was able to stay put for quite awhile. Every few minutes, some internal
muscle or nerve would twitch and my penis would spasm in response. I was
amazed at my ability to climax so many times so close together, but I knew
the tank was empty at last. There was no telling how long it would take my
body to manufacture more seminal fluid. But at least I'd had the pleasure
of flesh-to-flesh contact the last time. Sharon wasn't likely to get
pregnant from having her ass plowed and I knew I was absolutely
disease-free, so there were no guilt pangs on my behalf. A most
delightful -- and exhausting -- end to my brief jailbait affair.
The next question was, what should I do now? Stay overnight in John's
bed with my arms wrapped around this cuddly little doll? (And take a much
greater chance of her parents discovering she wasn't where she was supposed
to be....) I peered at the bedside clock as I rolled stiffly off Sharon's
body; she groaned softly and shifted position. It wasn't quite midnight,
though I felt like we had been screwing for at least three days. If we got
up now, I could probably deliver Sharon into her friend Marilyn's care by
1:00 in the morning -- not unreasonable hours for a Friday night
sleep-over, if the girls claimed they had been out running around.
I reached over and stroked her sweat-slick shoulder. "C'mon,
sweetheart, we have to get up and take a shower so I can take you to your
slumber party."
She screwed her eyes tightly shut. "Don' wanna go ... wanna stay here
with you...." She looked adorable behind the curtain of tangled hair and I
really wanted to keep her -- but I wasn't *that* stupid.
"Sharon, pay attention. I'd like very much for you to stay here, too,
but I'm afraid it's a very bad idea. Let's go, sweetheart -- up and at
'em." She groaned again in weary satiety and rolled over. She winced a
couple times as she sat up and scooted over to the edge of the bed. If
Sharon's healthy young body was stiff and sore, I hated to think what kind
of condition I was going to be in in the morning.
She held up her arms for assistance and I hauled her to her feet. Her
arms, naturally, continued to slide around my neck and we glided smoothly
into a slow, gentle kiss,... completely unlike our most recent
lovemaking. Even used up and worn out, I appreciated the warm softness of
Sharon's body pressed against mine as our sweat combined. That might
present a problem to the outside world, though.
"Darlin', I think we're both badly in need of soap and hot water," I
commented as the kiss tapered off.
She sniffed and smiled. "We just smell like sex; I kinda like it."
I squeezed her tighter. "So do I, sweetheart,... but I don't think your
folks would appreciate it. Or your brother." We made out way stiffly to
the master bathroom, which had a big shower with tinted glass doors, fake
cobblestone flooring, its own recessed heat lamp overhead, and a high-tech,
ten-way showerhead.
Sharon was still a bit fuzzy but she woke up with a squeal when the
first icy blast of water hit her between the shoulderblades. In another
two seconds, the water was nearly scalding, though, and she backed into
it, wriggling her shoulders with a sigh and twisting her neck from side to
side. I began soaping her down and she raised her arms so I could reach
her ribs. She gave me a sweet, warm smile as my slippery hands glided over
her breasts and down across her belly.
"You're still in your trance, aren't you Sharon?" She nodded and cocked
her head. "Tell me what you're thinking about right now, sweetheart.
What's behind that lovely smile?"
She leaned against my chest and tucked her face into my neck. "I'm
thinking about how nice it is to be here with you," she said quietly. I
was touched to the heart. She seemed to hesitate and then added, "I'm
also thinking about being in love." She raised her head and focused on my
eyes from two inches away. I opened my mouth but she touched my lips with
her fingertips. "I know what you said,... you know, about sex and love.
But I'm in love with you now -- tonight -- and I can't help it."
She was so earnest in her proclamation, I found I couldn't help it
either. "Sharon,... putting it that way, for tonight -- well, I love you,
too." She wrapped her arms around my chest and squeezed so hard, I worried
a little about a cracked rib.
We didn't say much for a few minutes. I rubbed up a thick lather over
most of her body, ears to toes. I loved handling every inch of her and she
obviously enjoyed being the object of such careful attention. Then it was
her turn to soap me up, and she made innovative use of her breasts as bath
sponges grinning when her nipple in my navel made me shiver.
When Sharon had rinsed off, we switched places under the showerhead and
I watched the gleam from her slick, wet skin as she leaned against the tile
with her ankles demurely crossed. She saw the direction my eyes were
traveling and smiled at my fixation. Holding my gaze, she cupped her small
breasts and pinched her nipples. One hand slid slowly down to cover her
pubic mound and her middle finger slipped into her vagina.
I couldn't believe she could have the energy to go round again, but it
quickly became obvious that she was merely putting on an erotic little show
for my entertainment. She turned around and leaned her elbows and forearms
against the wall, knees straight, her inviting little bottom jutting out at
me. She gave me that hot little smile over her shoulder as she traced a
slow track down between her buttocks with one nail. My cock made a
halfhearted twitch and gave out completely. So I made the best response I
could: I bent over and planted a wet, lingering kiss on the out-curve of
one taut, perfectly formed cheek. Sharon wiggled in delight, and when I
added a little nip with my teeth, she giggled in a way that gave me chills
hotter than the shower.
Fifteen minutes later, we were toweling each other down beneath the big
heat lamp in the dressing alcove. Sharon insisted on drying me completely,
just as she had soaped me -- and, of course, I did the same. We paused
several times for cuddles and kisses and it was crowding 1:00 before we
finally tidied up the bedroom and made our way downstairs to gather up our
clothing.
I was becoming concerned about slipping Sharon into her friend's house,
but she calmly explained that Marilyn kept the ringer turned down on her
private line and that the two of them often conversed secretly about "girl
things" in the middle of the night. Marilyn would arrange to sneak her in
and no one's parents would be the wiser. I hoped she was right.
Sharon sat on the arm of the sofa, casually and beautifully naked,
talking quietly to her buddy on the phone. One toe traced invisible
patterns in the carpet and she'd wound the cord several times around her
fingers, looking for all the world like any other fourteen-year-old girl,
except for all that lovely skin.
Again, I let my gaze travel slowly over that gorgeous little body as I
dressed. I wasn't likely to see her in this state again; the chances of
being caught were simply to great. She watched me watching her and smiled
intimately as she talked. Then she silently parted her thighs to give me
an unobstructed view of her pussy, which appeared as exhausted as I felt.
I was a bit surprised to hear her say, "I'm still bare as a baby,
Marilyn, and my boyfriend's putting on his clothes. I like the way he's
looking at me, like he'd like to eat me for dinner. And I've just spread
my legs so he can see almost inside of me. Yeah, really,... but he
already knows what the inside of me feels like. Have you ever let a guy
fuck you in the ass? No, Marilyn -- it's fantastic! Or maybe it just has
to be the right guy...." She winked at me. Hearing her nonchalantly
describing her new sexual experiences to another girl her age was a whole
different kind of turn- on. I wondered momentarily if
Marilyn-the-girlfriend might become available for a three-way party. No
-- that would *really* be taking risks!
"No, I told you Marilyn: There's no way I'm going to tell you who the
guy is! He's so sweet, and I *love* fucking him, and he could get in
*really* bad trouble, you know. Besides, you don't know him. He's older,
remember? No, I won't tell you how much older, either!" she added with a
laugh. "Look, I have to get dressed, okay? I'm leaving pussy puddles on
his sofa, I swear i am. We'll be there in about thirty minutes and I'll
wait just beyond the kitchen porch light, okay? Yeah, I promise -- I'll
give you a blow-by-blow -- or a hump-by-hump, maybe! Oh, Marilyn,... you
simply will not believe what sex is like. *Real* sex, I mean, not just
kissing and making out. It's just too terrific...."
I was dressed now, and had moved to lean between Sharon's knees so I
could nibble on her neck as she talked on the phone. I placed my thumb
carefully on her clit and moved it in slow circles. Unbelievably, my
little lover's eyes went smoky again and she arched her back.
"Uh -- oh -- God!" she moaned into the mouthpiece. "Oh, Marilyn, you
wouldn't believe what's happening, what he's doing to me right this minute!
Oh, that feels so good...." I grinned and pinched her clit between thumb
and forefinger. She gasped and moaned again and gave me a wicked look;
obviously, some of Sharon's very vocal reaction was for her friend's
benefit.
"Sweetheart," I breathed in her ear, "I'm afraid you're going to have to
dress that gorgeous body so we can get out of here. Of course, I could
deliver you to Marilyn's house just as you are...."
Sharon stifled a giggle and covered the mouthpiece with her hand. "That
would be exciting, wouldn't it?! Better not, though, just in case we got
stopped on the way...." I was joking, of course, but the image of Sharon's
naked body heating up the front seat of my car blazed through my mind.
"Marilyn, I've *gotta* go! I'll see you in thirty minutes -- if I can
find all my clothes!" she laughed. Then she hung up and pulled on her
sweatshirt. (A pretty young girl clothed only from the waist up is a
wondrous sight.) She picked up her panties and her jeans but paused and
gave me a thoughtful look. "Want a souvenir...?" She dangled the white
panties from an outstretched fingertip.
She saw the answer in my eyes and carefully wadded up the material and
crammed it up between her legs, most of it disappearing into her cunt.
She closed her thighs tightly and kind of rotated her hips. When she
extracted them, her panties were visibly damp; she waved them close to my
face and I inhaled the thick perfume. She leaned close and ran her little
tongue over my lips as she stuffed her trophy-gift into my pocket.
"I'm sorry I don't have a memento to give to you in return," I replied
softly as she nibbled at my ear.
"Are you kidding?" she chuckled, and my ear tickled. "I have two tied-
up rubbers in my jeans pocket that are full of you." She guided my hand
around to her ass, still bare below her shirt. "Plus an extra
installment...." One long kiss filled with tongue and then Sharon was
almost shyly pulling her jeans up over that naked, lovely ass and jamming
on her loafers. Her bra went into her gym bag. She slung her purse over
her shoulder and looked around to make sure she'd forgotten nothing. And
then we were out the door and climbing into the car, and I found myself
very much regretting that my evening (and almost certainly my affair) with
Sharon was nearly over.
I wasn't sure what remained of Sharon's trance so as we pulled out of
the parking lot -- the only car on the street at the hour of the night, as
far as I could tell -- I squeezed her shoulder to get her attention and
said "Dive, Sharon, dive." When I glanced at her face, I saw the calm,
relaxed serenity I'd learned to associate with a successful hypnotic
trance. She was under, all right.
"Sharon, you understand, don't you, that you must not say anything to
anyone about our relationship? Don't even hint at my identity, correct?
You can tell Marilyn and your other more trustworthy friends all the
physical details about how you lost your virginity and how much sex can
be, though." I was revising my thoughts quickly. "In fact, Sharon, you
*will* tell them all about it -- very privately, of course. You'll tell
them in detail how great it feel to be fucked in the ass, and all the rest
of it, won't you? But you will be very careful not to give them, or
anyone else, even the smallest clue to who I am, all right? Just refer to
your 'boyfriend' and leave it at that. Do you understand, sweetheart?"
She seemed almost affronted that I would think she had to be instructed.
"Yes, I understand; I'd *die* before I told anyone anything that might get
you in trouble! I just wouldn't do something like that -- especially
around Jeff. And my parents would never understand about sex anyway." She
paused. "I wouldn't even trust all my friends to keep their big mouths
shut about something this important -- it would make terrific gossip
around school. I'll be really careful what I say and who I say it to, I
promise."
She slid closer and stroked my thigh as I drove through the darkened
suburbs. "I can trust Marilyn, though, absolutely. Other way 'round, too,
because I even held a little bag of pot for her last year when she was
afraid her parents or the maid might find it." She smiled
conspiratorially. "We do things like that for each other all the time,
you know. In fact,... Marilyn's the one who showed me how to get myself
off." She folded her hands primly in her lap. "I didn't know how and I
asked her, and so we got in bed together one night, and she played with
her pussy and I watched. She even came!" she giggled impishly.
"Hmmm. Sweetheart, have you and Marilyn ever touched each other's
pussies?"
"Noooo.... I think she wanted to once, though."
"Okay. Don't you think it would be a good idea if you and your friend
got really cozy and masturbated each other? Girls can make love with other
girls, you know; sex is sex. Would you enjoy that? Would Marilyn?"
"Yes," she replied slowly, "I think she would. She's really, really
interested in everything about sex. And it sounds like fun...." I had a
feeling little Sharon's social life was going to heat up considerably.
"Sweetheart, I want you to be sure to write to me at school and tell me
what happens in your sex life with Marilyn, with other boys, all of it,
okay? And give me all the other news about your life, too, because I'm
very interested. Be sure no one catches you writing mailing letters to
me, Sharon; that could land us both in a lot of trouble. But you will be
explicit and completely honest in what you tell me, do you understand?"
And I had her memorize my post office address at school.
Our parting was almost anticlimactic. I turned off the headlights as I
rounded the corner onto Marilyn's block and eased to a stop at the curb
across the street and several houses down. As I killed the engine and
switched off the dome light, I looked toward the house Sharon indicated
and was sure I saw the white lace curtains move in an upstairs dormer
window. Sharon saw it, too, and grabbed her gym bag off the floor.
"I'd better be going -- I should be there already when she opens the
kitchen door, so she won't have to wait." She quickly opened the door and
seemed about to leap out and disappear. Suddenly, I was unprepared for her
departure.
"Sharon--" I grabbed her shoulder and she looked back at me. Her face
softened and she moved back, close up against me, leaving the passenger door
ajar. I kissed her and then hugged her more tightly than I had intended.
"Sharon, when I count down to one, you will no longer be in a trance and
you will forget ever having been in a trance, but you will remember
everything I've told you. And you won't forget to write regularly and
tell me everything, now, will you? And I want you to remember something
else, sweetheart, because it's very important." I held her face in my
hands and stared hard into her eyes. "Always remember that you're a
special person, Sharon. Very special." She smiled faintly.
"Five,... four,... three,... two,... one." She blinked and sighed
deeply. Gathering up her bag again, she slid back to the half-open door
but paused halfway out and looked back at me steadily.
"I don't care: I still love you," she said softly and with great
conviction. "I think I always will." And then she was out and running
silently across the street as the car door clicked shut.
I could make out the upper part of Marilyn's kitchen door over the
surrounding shrubbery and I sat and watched as it swung open and closed
again. I imagined the two girls tiptoeing upstairs, Marilyn whispering
excited questions at her friend and my little lover displaying that
knowing grin in reply. What a sweetheart she was -- and what a sweet
fuck.
I let off the brake and coasted fifty yards past Marilyn's house before
I restarted the engine; the headlights remained off until I'd turned the
far corner. All the way home, I thought about the evening's unbelievable
events. I hated to have to give up Sharon, but safety came first.
Relative safety, anyway. There were lots of other hypnotic subjects out
there, and I already had a couple of interesting experimental candidates
in mind.
I awoke after 10:00 the next morning with a partial erection. I
couldn't remember my dreams but I was sure I knew what they'd been about. I
attempted experimentally to masturbate but stopped almost immediately. My
cock was as sore as if a dump truck had run over it -- twice. When I
finally climbed out of bed, I groaned because of the stiffness in my lower
back. Sharon was probably feeling even more wasted, despite her youthful
resilience, but I knee she's didn't regret it.
I had to wonder how she might have behaved through all this had I simply
removed her overriding inhibitions and not added all the extra guidance.
Would she still have been such a hot little girl? It was impossible to
know. My quest for someone who could be shown to have done something under
hypnosis that they would never have done otherwise was still incomplete.
But this had certainly been a delightful experiment!
* * * * *
[...COMING: Part 5 of TRANCES -- And just where has the *faculty* been
during this saga...?]
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