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ADULTED movie and imagined Meg was some



ADULT EDUCATION

(c) Copyright 2000 by Wiseguy



Meg had one of those mischievous smiles on her face;

that should have been my first clue, but I missed it.

I let myself get distracted by the newsprint booklet

she was waving in my face instead.

"What's this for?" I asked, taking the booklet from

her hand. A quick glance told me it was the summer

course catalog from our local community college. You

probably get them too: a variety of short enrichment

classes in various things from cake decorating to

small appliance repair, all offered for a nominal fee

to adults in the community. Meg and I had both taken

classes there before, so the college had us on their

mailing list.

"Look at this one," she said, pointing to an entry

circled in red pen:

Hypnosis for Couples

Learn to experience increased pleasure and

intimacy through mutual hypnosis. Includes

discussion of induction techniques, formulating

effective suggestions, and a practical

demonstration. Couples only. Instructor: Carol

Sherman, CCHT. 3 sessions.

I looked back at Meg with raised eyebrows. "Are you

serious?"

"Of course." Her green eyes sparkled back at me.

"Doesn't it sound interesting to you?"

I read the entry again. "I suppose so," I granted,

"It doesn't really say much."

"Increased pleasure and intimacy through hypnosis,"

she quoted in reply. "Couples only. How much more

does it need to say?"

I handed the booklet back to her with a shrug. She

whacked me playfully over the head with it and gave me

an exaggerated scowl. "Don't play innocent with me,

Patrick," she scolded. "You spend as much time on the

hypnoerotic story sites as I do, if not more. I dare

you to look me in the eye and say you haven't

fantasized about learning to hypnotize me."

Well, she had me there. We'd only been living

together a few weeks when I came home one evening to

find her on my PC, surfing my favorite hypnofetish

story sites. For a few seconds my life flashed before

my eyes: I braced myself for a tirade about what a

pervert I am, how sick I must be to find that kind of

depravity entertaining, etc. I think she read that in

my face, because she immediately jumped up and hugged

me tightly. "It's okay," she whispered into my ear.

"I have most of the same sites bookmarked on my

laptop." That's when I knew this relationship was

going to work.

Meg was still waiting for me to respond to her dare. I

looked up into her eyes and thought yes, it would be

so cool to see those eyes closing on my command, to

take her into a deep sleep and know she will obey my

every wish. "You know I do," I answered.

Taking my head into her hands, Meg treated me to a

kiss that put a lump in the front of my shorts. "I do

too," she replied. "That's why I've already signed us

up. Don't make any plans for Thursday the 18th,

lover."

I reached up to her and cradled a breast in my hand,

squeezing just the way she likes. "You've got a

date," I said, pleased to hear the hitch in her

breath.

"Maybe you'd better take Friday off too," she added,

reaching down to open my zipper.



On Thursday the 18th we set out to find the location

listed in the course pamphlet we'd received with our

confirmation. Not surprisingly considering the

expected content, we quickly discovered that the class

was not being held on campus; instead, the pamphlet

directed us to a martial arts studio a few blocks

away.

We arrived 10 minutes ahead of the 7:00 scheduled

start time. A young woman met us at the door and led

us to the practice room. She looked to be in her

early thirties, with chestnut hair and the deepest

brown eyes I've ever seen.

"Hi. I'm Carol." Her voice was rich and sensual, and

her hand as it touched mine sent a small shock through

my system.

"I'm Patrick, and this is Meg," I replied weakly.

Carol flashed us a thousand-watt smile. "It's great

to meet you," she said. "The others are already here.

Come on back and get comfortable."

We followed Carol into the studio. Her thin workout

clothes displayed a beautifully proportioned figure.

Meg nudged me a little to make sure I wasn't paying

too much attention to those proportions.

The idea of holding a hypnosis class in a dojo seemed

strange to us at first, but once I saw the place it

made perfect sense. There was lots of floor space to

work with, for one thing. A generous supply of folded

wrestling mats was stacked up against the far wall,

and I saw that five other couples had already made

little nests for themselves using some of those mats.

A giant mirror, presumably for the benefit of karate

students practicing forms, covered the long wall.

Meg and I followed the others' lead and helped

ourselves to a few of the folding mats. They reminded

me of my college wrestling room pads -- thick, dense,

vinyl-covered, and extremely comfortable for sitting,

standing, or lying down.

While Meg and I were getting situated, Carol stood

apart from the group and made a few notes in a

personal organizer. Nodding to herself, she closed

the book and tucked it into a slim portfolio case.

"Everyone's here now," she announced, "We can get

started."

Call me an idiot if you like -- until that moment, I

didn't connect "Carol Sherman, CCHT" with that

voluptuous creature. I was expecting some scholarly,

kind, Angela Lansbury type. The reality turned out to

be more like Catherine Zeta-Jones. Not that I minded,

of course.

"I want to thank you all for coming tonight," she

began, that silky voice grabbing our collective

attention easily. "I'm your instructor for this

course. To my patients and colleagues, I am Dr.

Sherman; in here, though, I like to keep things casual

and friendly, so please just call me Carol."

I felt myself nodding automatically as she continued.

"As you know from the course description, this

workshop is about hypnosis for couples. I've been a

practicing hypnotherapist for about five years now,

and for the last two I've specialized in treating

sexual dysfunctions in both men and women. In that

time it's been my pleasure to teach hundreds of

couples how they can use hypnosis to enhance their

love lives. If you stay with me and work together

over the three sessions in this class, I promise you

that the experience will change the way you think

about sexual pleasure."

A quick glance around the room showed everyone

nodding, their eyes focused directly on Carol. My

cock stirred a little as a small part of my mind

connected Carol with sexual pleasure.

"But first," she continued, "I need to make sure that

you all understand some important things about what we

will and won't be doing here. You will be practicing

hypnosis on each other, learning to use the hypnotic

state for erotic purposes. Each of you will learn to

drop into a deep trance on command from your partner.

Sharing that power brings a new depth of intimacy to

relationships, but it requires absolute trust. If you

don't share your partner's interest in erotic

hypnosis, or if you are not sure you want to let your

partner guide you into a trance and give you

suggestions, then you should not be here. I'd rather

see you invest your time in improving your

relationship or at least doing something you can both

enjoy.

"At the same time, there are limits to what I can

teach you in three evening sessions. Don't imagine

that having taken this class qualifies you to start

hypnotizing people at dinner parties. If you're going

to do that, you owe it to your friends and yourself to

get proper training first."

Carol paused a minute to let it all sink in. "Now

listen to this very carefully," she continued. "The

hypnotic suggestions we use in this class will be

limited to things that have proven safe and effective

for our purpose. They will involve creating and

controlling desire, causing or enhancing physical

sensations, and overcoming inhibitions. I'm sure you

are all aware that hypnosis is also used medically to

help people lose weight, stop smoking, and things like

that. That's called hypnotherapy, and it takes years

of practice to become proficient at it. We will not

be conducting therapy in this class."

Carol's eyes swept sternly over us all, making contact

and asking an unspoken question. Each of us nodded

while meeting her gaze. "I am very serious about

this," she added. "Just because your partner agrees

to go into trance for you, that does not give you

license to try and 'improve' his or her personality.

If you do try, the most likely result is that it won't

work and the violation of trust will seriously damage

your relationship."

The point made, Carol seemed to relax. The smile

returned to her face as she moved on to the last item.

"Finally, I noticed some of you looking nervous when I

mentioned that we would be combining hypnosis and sex.

Let me assure you that my lesson plan does not call

for anyone to have intercourse during the class. The

idea is that what you learn here you take home and use

in private."

I took a quick look around the room and saw several

people looking relieved. The idea had never occurred

to me, but apparently it had to them; I guess that

proves I'm on the wrong side of 35.

"So much for the preliminaries," Carol said. "Does

anyone have questions before we go on?"

The question was barely out when a voice from across

the room shot out, "What if you can't be hypnotized?"

We all looked at the speaker: a slim blonde woman,

early twenties, in a designer warm-up suit. The man

next to her sat perfectly still and watched her,

almost seeming to fade into the background. Her voice

was strong and sure, causing me to wonder if she was

asking or challenging.

Carol turned to face the speaker. "You're Ellen,

right?"

"Yes."

"That's a fair question, Ellen," Carol replied

diplomatically. "Every so often in hypnotherapy, a

patient comes along who is highly resistant to

hypnosis. Most of the time the resistance comes from

misconceptions about what hypnosis is, or fear of

losing control. Some people are just very analytical

by nature and have a hard time letting their

subconscious take over. It's been my experience that

once a patient has been educated about the hypnotic

state and any latent fears or doubts have been put to

rest, anyone who is willing can enter hypnosis."

"You mean you've never had someone you couldn't put

under?" Ellen's tone was openly skeptical now, but

Carol seemed unconcerned.

"It's not really a question of putting someone under,"

she explained patiently. "Going into hypnosis is a

process that happens entirely within a person's own

mind. I can't make you or anyone else enter a

hypnotic state. What I can do, what I will do, is

teach you how to enter that state yourself or in

response to a suggestion from your partner. If you

want that to happen, Ellen, it will happen; if you

don't, it won't. The outcome is always what you want

it to be."

Nice, I thought. Now if she doesn't go under, it's

her own fault.

"Are there any other questions?" Carol asked. When

nobody spoke, she continued. "Okay. Now I'd like to

take a break. I'm asking each of you to please go and

use the bathroom, I want you comfortable with no

interruptions for the rest of the session. Be back

here in ten minutes, please."

It was closer to fifteen minutes before everyone had

taken care of business and settled back into their

chosen spots. There was a lot of nervousness on

display, as well as anticipation. Ellen, I noticed,

was the quietest of us; she simply sat and waited,

arms folded, with a closed look on her face.

With the buzz of a half-dozen whispered conversations

in the air, Carol stepped over to a small side table

and pressed a button on the boom box that rested

there. From the box came a strange sound: light,

airy, yet very soothing, it wasn't really music but it

wasn't just a simple tone either. We all fell silent

almost immediately, feeling the odd series of notes

flowing around and through us. Carol gave us a few

moments to adjust to the change, then turned to

address the class.

"I suppose I could start out by giving you a long,

technical lecture on how to help someone enter

hypnosis. In doing these classes, though, I've found

that it all makes much more sense if you actually

experience the hypnotic state first. I'd like for

everyone to lie back and get comfortable, please."

There was some shuffling around as we adjusted

ourselves into position. The ceiling, I noticed, had

a number of colorful dots on it. "Choose a spot on

the ceiling," Carol's voice told us, "and focus on

it." There was a dark blue dot near the middle of my

field of vision, so I fixed my gaze on it and waited

for more instructions.

Carol's voice grew smoother, softer, more seductive as

she began to talk us into trance. "Everyone take a

nice, deep breath now. Hold it ... hold it ... and now

exhale, completely, slowly, and let yourself sink into

the mats. Very good, everyone. Now breathe in again,

deeply and slowly. Hold it. And exhale, slowly,

completely, feeling yourself sinking a little further

into the mats." She had us do this several times,

each time exhorting us to relax and let the mats

support us.

"Notice how very settled, how very comfortable, you

feel right now," she continued. "Pay very close

attention to your body right now. Notice the feel of

your clothes against your skin, the softness of the

mat below you, the gentle motion of the air around

you. Concentrate on these sensations, just

concentrate and listen. Think of relaxation only; any

other thoughts that might come to you, just let them

come and pass like a summer breeze.

"Notice that you can still hear the music playing in

the background. It's a special rhythm designed to

help you relax. If you like, let the music enter your

mind and soothe you, relaxing you by degrees as you

float along on the waves of sound. You can

concentrate on that if you like, listening closely to

the music, and to my voice. Listen, relax, and

enjoy."

The music was enticing, I decided, and vaguely noticed

myself letting out another deep breath as I focused my

attention on the strange, comforting sounds flowing

out of the boom box. Carol's voice faded a little,

but I could still hear her clearly.

"As you watch your spot on the ceiling, you will find

that your eyes become tired from staring so long at

one place. They begin to water, to strain, to blink.

That's perfectly okay. Eyes get tired, especially

when they are focused so well in one place, as yours

are now. It's okay to feel tired, sleepy, groggy,

drowsy. Okay to feel the lids growing heavy, trying

to blink, trying to close. Soon you will find that

you can no longer hold your eyes open; they will

blink, quickly at first, and then more and more often,

until they simply no longer wish to remain opened at

all. And that's fine too. Don't make any deliberate

effort to close your eyes or to keep them open; just

let them close or blink whenever they want to, and

you'll drift into a wonderful, pleasant place of

relaxation. Just let yourself go.

"As we go along, I want you to be aware of your

breathing and each breath you take. Each time that

you exhale, let your neck relax, let your shoulders

drop, let your hips and thighs go loose. It will feel

wonderfully good."

My head was full of the music from the boom box. The

tone had changed slightly, I thought -- the rhythm had

slowed ever so slightly, the pitch lowered just a

hair. A warm, comfortable feeling began to flow

through my body.

"I'm going to count to three now," Carol's voice

continued, "and when I reach three, if you haven't

already closed your eyes down, I want you to close

them at that time. You will always be able to open

your eyes again if you really want to, but please

leave them closed until I ask you to open them. One ...

two ... and three, everyone let your eyes close now, let

your neck relax, let your shoulders drop, just letting

everything go. As we go along, you're going to find

that your mind starts to wander around to other

thoughts and other places, and that's okay. Any time

you find your mind wandering about, simply bring it

back and focus your attention on my voice or the

music, and you'll drift a little faster and a little

more deeply relaxed than you were the moment before."

I had a pretty decent buzz going already, thanks to

the music and the soothing tones of Carol's voice. My

body was heavy and limp, but I could feel the

wrestling mat underneath me supporting me, making it

possible to let every muscle go. My mind wandered for

a second, then I realized Carol was speaking again.

"...I'm going to mention several muscle groups of your

body, and as I mention these groups of muscles I want

you to focus your attention there, really concentrate,

and relax each group of muscles that I mention."

Starting with the face, Carol called out every major

muscle group and body part from head to toe. For each

group she told us to concentrate, focus, relax this

and that part, feel the part becoming heavy, loose,

and lazy. I kept drifting off to some other place,

only to catch myself and refocus on Carol's

instructions.

Once she had gone through all of the muscle groups,

Carol led us in another series of slow, deep breaths.

Each breath in filled my body with peace, and each

breath out let me melt down farther and farther in to

the soft, safe, comfortable mat.

Carol's voice had become so distant I found it hard to

make out what she was saying. Something told me that

was okay, though, so I simply let her voice merge with

the low, thrumming tones of the music in my head. I

felt my various muscle groups relaxing again, head to

toe, like the lights being turned off in a skyscraper

floor by floor.

A pattern of colors began to swirl before my eyes, and

I felt myself floating down into the middle of

whatever it was. It turned out to be a hammock,

stretched between two trees, waiting to be occupied.

I was in a small woodland, with grass under my feet

and enough trees to provide pleasant shade. There was

a small stream nearby; the bubbling sound of the water

running by made the place all the more peaceful. I

climbed into the hammock and lay back, swaying slowly

in the warm breeze. I watched the tree limbs as I

rocked back and forth, the sounds of the water still

in my ears, feeling safe and comfortable.

Perfectly contented, I closed my eyes and let out a

long, slow breath. From somewhere right behind me

Carol spoke some more. Firm, gentle hands pressed

down on my shoulders and the world melted away.



My rest was rudely interrupted by the familiar BWAAAP

of my alarm clock. Instinctively I rolled toward the

sound and reached out with an arm to silence the

obnoxious little box, only to realize that it wasn't

there. My mind cleared, and I saw that we were still

in the dojo. The alarm sound stopped before I could

locate the real source of the sound.

"Welcome back everyone," Carol said. "Take your time,

don't be in a hurry to start moving around. Take a

minute and pay attention to how you feel: peaceful,

relaxed, at ease."

She was right, I felt as if I'd had a long afternoon

nap. I looked over at Meg and took her hand; her face

radiated a kind of serenity that echoed my own

feelings. A slow, easy look around the dojo told me

that the other couples were experiencing the same

thing. Well, all of them who were left -- the

skeptical Ellen and her companion were gone, their

mats returned to the pile at the back of the dojo.

"What happened to them?" I asked, pointing toward the

empty spot.

"Ellen and Matt have decided not to continue," she

explained without explaining. "I agree with their

choice. And now that you've all had a chance to get

reoriented, let's talk about what you just

experienced."

Carol then launched into an informal lecture on the

basic theory of hypnosis. She described how people

actually go into and out of various trance states

normally every day when they drive, watch television,

read, dance, or do almost anything that requires

concentration. "That ability to focus on one thing or

sensation, so that other sounds and stimuli are

blocked out or ignored, is what a trance really is,"

she told us. She went on to explain some of the more

important principles regarding the hypnotic state:

that people can always choose to end the trance if

they wish; people can also choose to reject a

suggestion if it conflicts with their moral sense or

doesn't feel safe; and that post-hypnotic suggestions

wear off if they are not used regularly. "We've all

read or heard of stories in which someone drops into a

trance by hearing some random phrase that they were

conditioned to years before," she said. "It makes an

interesting fictional device, but it could never

really happen."

Next we discussed how hypnotic inductions actually

work. Carol went over the major modes of perception --

visual, auditory, and kinesthetic. "Visual people,"

she explained, "have a strong ability to see things

with their imaginations. They can invoke an image and

describe it in great detail. Auditory people are very

attuned to sounds. Kinesthetics are very good at

focusing on their own bodies, sensing their own

movement, position, and location. During the

induction we used earlier, I included elements of all

three. Unless you are very unusual, each of you

should have found that one type of instruction seemed

to work better for you than others. Maybe you found

the rhythmic sound from the CD player particularly

soothing; maybe staring at the dot seemed to focus you

more; maybe it was easiest for you to focus on the

various sensations around your body. Everyone is

different, but knowing how a person perceives the

world makes it much easier to help them into hypnosis

and to form workable suggestions." Then Carol turned

to me. "Patrick, what elements in the induction today

worked best for you?"

She had caught me off guard; I had to yank my eyes

back from the graceful curve of her shoulder and think

fast. "The auditory," I answered. "The visual

imagery of the hammock and the wood were also pretty

vivid, but it was mostly the music and your voice that

really put me away."

Carol smiled approvingly and looked to Meg. "The

sound was okay," Meg offered, "but it didn't really do

much for me. The whole relaxing thing, concentrating

on specific body parts and noticing all the different

sensations, that was the thing that really worked for

me. I had a hard time visualizing the woods, but I

could feel myself swinging in the hammock very well.

I guess that makes me a kinesthetic, right?"

Carol nodded and turned to the next couple. We

watched and listened as the other couples related

their experiences. Most of them turned out to be

visual types, plus one or two auditory. Meg was the

only kinesthetic in the group.

"Before we end the session for tonight," Carol

continued, "I want to demonstrate for you one more

principle of hypnosis: it gets much easier with

practice. Everyone close your eyes and think back to

when you were hypnotized earlier. If you are visual,

remember the images you saw and how you felt as you

looked at them; if you are auditory, try to recall the

sounds from the boom box and let them take you back

into deep relaxation; if you are kinesthetic, remember

the sensations of your body relaxing, melting into the

mats, growing heavy and loose. Relax your feet

everyone, your feet and now your calves ... let the

relaxation spread up your legs ... to your hips ... " Her

voice dropping back to the low, sensual tones of a

while before, Carol guided us all through another

progressive relaxation. I was gone before she got all

the way through, the memory of that sound replaying

through my head.

When I woke up again I felt invigorated. My body

tingled with a quiet excitement. I looked over at Meg

and noticed, as if for the first time, the delightful

curves of her breasts under the sport top she was

wearing. I put a hand on her back, partly to draw her

to me and partly to find out if she was wearing a bra

underneath. She wasn't, I concluded as out lips met

in a hot kiss that put Miracle Grow in my shorts. I

was only half aware of Carol's voice in the

background. "Our final item tonight is a small

demonstration of post-hypnotic suggestion," she was

saying. "I planted a fairly simple suggestion; you

should be feeling its affects right now, so I don't

think I need to tell you what it was. Please try to

remember this one thing, though: if you possibly can,

I'd like each of you to find some quiet time each day

and practice putting yourself back into hypnosis.

You'll find it gets easier if you practice every day."

Carol saw us all nod, but we weren't really paying

much attention to her. With a light sigh and a broad

smile, she dismissed us. "Everyone drive carefully,

and I'll see you here next Thursday."

Meg and I separated reluctantly, our eyes wandering

back to each other's bodies often as we gathered our

things and put away the mats. I did look around

enough to notice that we were not the only couple

acting this way. The 'small demonstration' was

clearly working in a big way.

As we headed out the door, Carol stopped us for a

quick aside. "It's unusual to have only one

kinesthetic person in a group," she said to Meg. "I'm

a kinesthetic too; remind me next week and I'll teach

you a couple of special techniques."

We thanked Carol and said goodnight, our minds mostly

occupied with our own special techniques, which we

intended to put into practice as soon as we got home.

The drive home was interesting, to say the least. As

I drove, my eyes kept wandering over to Meg in the

seat next to me. I saw the outlines of her nipples

pressing against the sports top, and her tulip shorts

had spread open when she sat down in the car seat,

showing me lots and lots of lean, sexy upper leg.

Somehow I managed to tear my eyes away enough to watch

the road.

"So what did you think of the class?" Meg asked with

forced nonchalance.

"It was ... interesting," I said. "I wonder what all

she told us while we were out of it."

Meg moaned a little when I said that. "I think we

know at least one thing she did," she replied, as her

hands cupped her breasts through the stretchy top. "I

can't believe how randy I am! Does it show?"

"You mean your flaring nostrils, the rising color in

your cheeks, and the way you keep looking at me while

you grope yourself? No, I hardly noticed at all."

Meg let out a Bronx cheer, then reached over into my

lap. "Feels like I'm not the only one whose boiler

pressure is rising," she said as her hand clamped down

on my straining cock. "How does this feel, wise guy?"

With a deft movement, she pulled down my zipper and

started stroking my shaft through my briefs.

My field of vision narrowed to just the road in front

of me as I tried to ignore the exquisite sensations in

my crotch. Finally I gulped and found a couple of

words. "I'm speechless," I confessed.

With an evil laugh, Meg withdrew her hand. I was both

relieved and disappointed. "Are we even going to make

it home?"

"Probably," she answered. "But if I don't get that

dick of yours firmly implanted at the first possible

moment, I think I'm going to burst."

"You're not driving," I pointed out. "Go ahead and

come if you want to; blow off some steam."

"Great idea!" Meg's right hand dove through the

waistband of her shorts. From my vantage point I

could just make out the shape of her hand as she

curled her fingers to reach into her seam. Her

breathing quickened and deepened, and I felt my own

body reacting to the low, growling moans that escaped

her lips. After a very long few minutes, she groaned

loudly. "Shit -- I can't come!" she shouted, her eyes

still shut and her fingers still working. "All this

diddling is only making it worse!"

"Making it worse for me too," I replied with feeling,

painfully aware of my cock pressing against the back

of the steering wheel. "Good thing we're almost

home."

Meg opened her eyes and checked our position: about 3

blocks from the house. "Hallelujah!" she cried. "I

knew you had it in you ... now hurry up so you can get

it into me."

A small corner of my mind started laughing. Meg is

never shy about letting me know when she's horny, but

I'd never seen her this incensed before. The fact

that I was in equally bad shape myself made it all the

more funny.

An eternity later, we cruised into the garage. I hit

the button to close the door and jumped out of the

car, fumbling with my keys to locate the inside door

key. Meg was right behind me, her hands running up

and down my upper body. I got distracted and dropped

my keys onto the concrete floor.

"Forget it," Meg said fiercely as she grabbed me by

the shoulders and spun me around, pressing me against

the doorframe with her sweating body. "Right here,

right now," she added, then locked her mouth onto mine

for a sweltering, deep kiss.

In moments I felt my pants fall to the floor, followed

immediately by my briefs. Not to be outdone, I lifted

Meg's sports top enough to expose her breasts and

caressed them, noticing with pleasure that her nipples

felt as hard as my cock. Meg dropped to her knees,

pulling herself out of my hands, and brought her

tongue to bear against the sides of my shaft. She

licked me slowly, sensuously, up one side and down the

other, tracing rings around the head with the tip of

her tongue. One of her hands reached around me and

started stroking my balls. We were both breathing in

heavy gasps.

My head jerked back as Meg squeezed in just the right

place; I felt something hard behind my head move,

followed immediately by the sound of a small motor.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the garage door

start to lift.

"Shit!" I cried, stabbing at the switch wildly to

reverse the movement. On about the fifth try I

succeeded, and the door settled back into closed

position. Meg used my distracted time to hastily

strip off her clothing; she stood before me in only

her sneakers, like a streaker from the 70's. Pulling

one foot free from the entangling grip of my pants and

briefs, I grabbed Meg in a bear hug, lifted her up,

and set her down on the edge of my workbench about 10

paces away. Lips locked together, tongues wrestling

each other to a draw, I tilted her back a little bit

and slid into her dripping slit.

"Yes!" she gasped as I buried my cock between her

legs. "Oh, this is perfect! Don't you dare stop!"

"Stop?" I replied jokingly. "I've barely started."

Meg's legs wrapped themselves around me,

simultaneously squeezing my torso and pulling me

closer to her center. The rising pitch and frequency

of her moans told me she was almost there. I clenched

down hard with my groin muscle, lifting my cock and

putting a little extra pressure on the top of her

canal, and that was all she wrote. Meg shrieked again

and again as the orgasm ripped through her body. I

was so pleased with her reaction that I barely noticed

I was still pumping away. Then, with almost no

warning, my balls burst and I came. One spurt after

another came flying out like water from a fire

hydrant; part of me wondered if I was going to pull a

muscle this way. Finally the fury subsided and we

collapsed against each other, kissing and stroking as

we fell into post-coital bliss. A long time later, we

separated. We looked at each other in wonder.

"Wow," I remarked, knowing even as I said it how

inadequate that word was.

"Definitely a wow," Meg replied. We both had spit-

eating grins on our faces as we gathered up our

hastily discarded clothes and carried them into the

house.



If there's one problem with having a Thursday night

like we'd had, it's this: Friday can't help but seem

lame by comparison. I spent most of the day glued to

my desk, updating some CAD drawings with last-minute

changes from the client. Once I'd sent the finished

version across the wire to the print shop, it was just

after three o'clock -- too early to leave, too late to

start something new.

I decided that the best way to kill time until I could

reasonably go home would be to back up my local data

files to the network. Those of us who do design work

get the nicest PC's in the place and have enough

storage to keep our files locally so we don't hog the

network reading and writing our CAD data. In

exchange, the network administrator expects us to make

backups of our drawing files in a special directory on

the network, where they can be written to tape for

disaster recovery purposes. Things are never that

busy on Friday afternoons, so I figured it was as good

a time as any to be a good citizen.

As I sat there watching files copy, I thought again

about the previous night's class. Going into hypnosis

had been surprisingly easy, especially the second

time. I wondered if I could do it again without the

extra aid of Carol's voice. I took a quick survey of

the neighboring cubicles; nobody home but me. I

already knew the boss was off, so all systems were go.

While I was up, I grabbed one of the high-backed

chairs from the team room and dragged it back to my

cube. From the progress on my computer screen, I

figured I had about twenty minutes to kill.

I sat down in the high-backed chair, stretched out my

legs, and put my feet up on the seat of my regular

chair. My hands I let fall into my lap. It was

almost as comfortable as lying down on the mats in the

dojo. I let my eyes close as I took a deep breath in

and let it out, slowly and easily, as we had done the

night before. In my mind's ear I imagined hearing

that strange musical sound again, flowing through my

mind, relaxing me, taking me deeper and deeper. A

warm, pleasant feeling crept through me, and I

encouraged it, letting myself grow sleepier and

sleepier, relaxing, drifting ...

... and waking up suddenly to the feel of a hand on my

shoulder. I looked up to see Shirley, our boss's

secretary, looking down at me with an amused smile.

"Rough night, Pat?"

"Something like that," I waffled, trying to get myself

oriented again.

"So take off," she suggested. "Just about everyone

else has. I only came over to rib you about swiping

one of the good chairs."

I looked at the clock on my computer screen: 4:18. A

full hour, and then a little, had gone by while I was

zoned out. Too embarrassed to come up with a clever

reply, I just thanked Shirley, put everything away,

and went home.

I told Meg about what I'd done over dinner, expecting

her to share a laugh with me over getting caught by

Shirley. She surprised me by saying that she'd done

the same thing.

"I got home at the normal time," she said -- for Meg,

that's about 3:30 because she starts work at 6:45. "I

took a quick shower, and when I came out I just had

this idea that it would be fun to see if I could put

myself under. I stretched out on the bed and just let

go, and after a while I felt the buzz and went with

it. The phone woke me up -- another long distance

company trolling for naïve customers -- and I saw it

was almost 4:30. I must have been really gone,

because it only felt like a couple of minutes to me."

"Another of Carol's demonstrations?" I speculated.

"I don't think so," she answered thoughtfully. "I

mean, we were all awake when she told us that she

wanted us to practice going under when we get the

chance. I didn't feel as though I had to do it, just

that it would be interesting to try."

"Same here," I agreed, and let the matter drop. We

could always ask Carol about it at the next class.

The weekend was mostly unremarkable. We spent

Saturday catching up on errands and odd jobs:

laundry, washing cars, a little light household

maintenance, that kind of thing. Meg practiced her

self-hypnosis in the morning right after her shower,

and I did mine after dinner.

Meg had an interesting idea on Sunday. "Why don't we

practice together today?"

I shrugged. "Sure, why not?" After lunch we retired

to the bedroom, pulling the shades to filter out most

of the afternoon sun. We kicked off our shoes and

stretched out on the bed, face up, my right hand in

her left. Meg started us on a deep breath, but I

stopped.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," I answered. I rolled away from Meg and

checked out my alarm clock. It read 2:10pm, so I set

the alarm time to 3:15. "Just a precaution," I

explained. "As nice as this is, I don't want to spend

the whole afternoon sacked out."

"Good idea," she agreed.

The alarm set, I resumed my position next to Meg. We

each took a series of deep, slow breaths to get

ourselves started. As I relaxed into the bed, I could

sense Meg next to me doing the same. We found

ourselves breathing in unison without really trying

to. Soon I felt the warm, inviting buzz of hypnosis

coming over me and I let go into it, confidant that we

would wake up at the appointed time.

My eyes opened again almost immediately, or so it

seemed. I felt wide awake, at ease, rested. Meg

stirred next to me. "What time is it?"

I did a double take at the clock before answering:

"Three fifteen ... can you believe it?"

"Did the clock go off?"

"No, it didn't." Puzzled, I scooted over and checked

the clock. "Shit -- I set it to 3:15am instead of pm."

"It doesn't seem as though we needed it," she

observed.

"I guess not. The question is, was it dumb luck --"

"—or did we wake up just now because we had already

decided to?" We both shrugged at that one. Another

thing to ask Carol about on Thursday.



I got into the office early on Monday to get some

extra things done before a 9:30 meeting. As luck

would have it, though, our LAN team had chosen Monday

to roll out an automated update of some sort. They

aren't supposed to do those on the CAD systems because

we have different configurations and hardware from

most people, but somebody apparently forgot. Seconds

after logging in I got a screen message telling me to

please wait while my system is updated. A minute or

so after that, I got the infamous Blue Screen of

Death. After leaving a voice mail for the help desk

and a warning for my cohorts Gary and Barbara, I spent

the time I had wanted to be working in the cafeteria,

drowning my sorrows in hot coffee and a blueberry

muffin.

Other than the meeting, the day was a total loss. The

first tech that came up took one look at the PC, saw

it wasn't a standard configuration, and retreated

immediately. The second one looked at it a bit

longer, asked me what I had changed on the system, and

looked unbelieving when I explained what had happened.

After the meeting, and a long lunch with Gary and

Barbara during which we contemplated various methods

of torture suitable for the network administrators, my

PC still wasn't up. Barbara had the afternoon off so

I tried to get some work done using her machine, but

it was like driving someone else's car -- the controls

are more or less the same, but everything is just

different enough to be awkward. By three o'clock,

with three techs now huddled over my crippled PC

scratching their heads, I'd had enough and headed home

in disgust.

Meg's car was in the garage as usual when I got home,

but the house seemed quiet. I was still in a pretty

foul mood, so rather than go looking for Meg right

away I slipped upstairs to the bedroom. Changing out

of my office clothes does wonders for my attitude on a

bad day.

I found Meg on the bed and started to say something,

but I stopped short. She was so still, so peaceful

looking. Meg is an active sleeper, rolling around and

moving her arms and legs as she dreams; seeing her

this quiet was odd. I tiptoed around the bed for a

closer look.

Meg's arms were at her sides, her feet tilted

outwards. I could see her eyes flickering around

under her closed lids and see the slow movement of her

chest as she breathed. She was wearing her white silk

robe, closed but not fastened, and nothing else. She

smelled faintly of soap and moisturizer, suggesting

that she'd had a shower when she got home.

I fingered the edge of her robe, pulling it back ever

so slightly, peeking at the line of smooth skin

leading between her breasts, to the navel, and down to

her thatch. For about three seconds I thought about

waking her up; then I had a better idea.

Backing away from the bed, I slipped my own clothes

off, being careful to make as little noise as

possible. I knelt down beside the bed and gently,

lightly, let my hand come to rest on her stomach. The

silk moved under my hand as she breathed. Watching

Meg's face carefully for signs of awakening, I moved

my hand slowly up toward her breast, using just enough

pressure to let me feel her through the silk robe. My

fingers reached the nipple and parted, teasing the

sides, and I was pleased to feel the nipple stiffen in

response even as my palm crossed over it and reversed

directions, stroking downward just as slowly and

gently.

The next time I applied just a little bit more

pressure and lingered over the nipple, squeezing very

slightly, letting the silk move a little more under my

hand. The gap in the robe widened of course as I

moved the material around; after a few minutes I just

had to peel it aside the rest of the way. My hand

brushed down her bare skin one time as I leaned

forward. My tongue contacted her exposed nipple as my

hand came to rest on her mound, fingers reaching down

to her slit. I felt her breath in suddenly and her

legs starting to move, and my eyes darted up to her

face. Her eyes were opening, but she still looked

dazed.

"Relax, Meg," I said, trying my best to imitate

Carol's smooth delivery. "There's no need to wake up

yet. You're about to have a wonderful, erotic dream.

Just close your eyes and let it happen, let the dream

take your mind to new depths of peace and relaxation

even as you feel your body becoming aroused."

Meg's eyelids closed down and she sighed a long, lazy

sigh as she settled back into the bed. Watching that

happen sent a rush of adrenaline to my groin that

almost completely derailed my train of thought. I'd

had all kinds of fantasies about Meg responding to my

voice that way, but seeing it happen in reality was a

rush unlike anything I'd ever known. In my

distraction -- or was it fascination? -- I barely

noticed that my free hand had taken a firm grip on my

cock. I knelt there for several seconds at least,

just trying to assimilate the powerful erotic feelings

that had erupted within me, before I remembered what I

was trying to do.

My cock was screaming for attention, but I willed

myself to let go and get back to the original plan. I

put my mouth over the nearest nipple and sucked,

running my tongue over the extended tip, while at the

same time I began probing her slit with my fingers.

Meg moaned deeply, and soon I could feel moisture

coating my fingertips as they stroked her center.

As delicately as I could, I rose up and climbed onto

the bed. I let my left hand take over on her breast

momentarily while I kissed my way south, parting her

legs as I came to rest between them. I kissed her

thighs, her mound, her lips, and felt her hips start

to move up and down. I lifted my head long enough to

see that her eyes were still closed and her face

slack, then dove in to finish the job.

A lick here, a suck there, my hands caressing her legs

all the while, I watched and listened for signs of

awakening. Her breathing remained deep but the pace

was picking up, and each exhale came with a long,

sustained moaning sound. Her body felt heavy and

loose, but there was no question that she was

responding and would be ready to come soon. I thought

briefly about trying the "you can't come until I tell

you to" trick that figures into so many of our

favorite stories, but I opted not to -- I wasn't sure I

could pull it off, and I didn't want to spoil this by

trying and failing.

Instead I put the broad side of my tongue right

against her swollen clit and teased it, rubbing

against one side and then the other, until the moans

turned into passionate cries and then to shrieks as

Meg came. I did my best to stay in position, trying

to make the orgasm last as long as I could for her.

Even in the throes of a climax, she was so relaxed

that her legs remained almost completely limp on my

shoulders.

When the shrieks had died down to loud, heavy breaths

again, I felt more movement on the bed and peeked up

in time to see Meg's head rising up, her elbows coming

back to support her. Her face looked dazed, dizzy ...

and absolutely beautiful.

"Honey," I said playfully, "I'm home."



That week passed very slowly for us. After our little

experiment Monday, we were both anxious to continue

with our education.

Apparently we weren't the only ones keen to learn

more: when we reached the dojo it was a good twenty

minutes before the class was supposed to start, yet

everyone but Carol was already there.

Meg and I had our mats arranged to our liking and were

just settling in when Carol arrived. Her welcoming

smile beamed at us so brightly that it took me a few

seconds to realize she wasn't alone. Behind her was a

man of average height, slightly balding, with a neatly

trimmed beard and wire-frame glasses. His navy blue

warm-up suit hung loosely on his thin frame. He

busied himself setting up the boom box while Carol

made a few notes in her organizer.

"Good evening," Carol began, setting the organizer

down. "It's good to see everyone here bright and

early. Has it been an interesting week for you all?"

She made eye contact with each of us in turn, and

without fail each of us met her gaze with a sheepish

grin. "Excellent! Before we get started, I'd like

you all to meet my husband, Jim." She indicated the

man who had followed her in.

Jim waved to the group. "I'm not a hypnotherapist,"

he quipped, "but I've been known to sleep with one."

He winked and smiled in a way that made me like him

instantly.

"Behave," his wife scolded lightly before turning back

to us. "Besides being a card-carrying wiseacre, Jim

is my oldest and best student. He'll be helping out

in several capacities for the rest of the course.

He's very well trained, so rest assured you can trust

anything he tells you.

"Now," she continued, "Are there any questions you'd

like to toss out before we go any further?"

"I have one." Tamika, a twenty-something black woman

in burgundy fleece, spoke up. Her head was cocked to

one side and her eyebrows rose high on her forehead as

she looked at Carol. "What exactly did you do to us

last time?"

A group chuckle erupted -- the question was on all of

our minds, and it was a relief to hear someone voice

it. Carol was clearly expecting it and had her answer

ready.

"A couple of simple posthypnotic suggestions," she

explained. "One of the keys to using erotic hypnosis

is believing that it really can work. Before you try

making suggestions to each other, I wanted you to see

and feel for yourselves that the results we are going

to talk about are possible -- not just in the abstract,

but for you specifically. The best way to prove that

to you was by example.

"Before bringing you out of hypnosis last week, I

suggested that upon waking you would be much more

aware than usual of how sexy your partner really is,

and that this increased awareness would lead to your

having sexual thoughts and desires. Then I suggested

that each of those thoughts would add to a growing,

irresistible lust that wouldn't be satisfied until you

make love with your partner, which you would do at the

first safe opportunity."

As Carol explained what she'd done, I replayed that

Thursday night in my mind: the sudden randiness I'd

felt when we woke up the last time; the steady buildup

of need; Meg trying to bring herself off in the car

and failing, and how it that had affected me; it all

fell neatly into place.

Meg broke the silence with a question of her own.

"Did you make any other suggestions while we were out?

About practicing every day or anything like that?"

"Yes, I did. Going into trance is a skill which must

be practiced. That's especially true in this context,

where you are all just beginning to learn and don't

have a professional to guide you at home. To help

you, I suggested that you would find it easy to

reenter the hypnotic state on your own at will, and

that each time you try you will go deeper than the

time before. I reinforced those concepts several

times."

"Did you tell us we had to practice every day?"

"Not as a posthypnotic suggestion, no. If you

remember, I did suggest after you were fully awake

that practicing every day would be a good thing. Did

everyone do that?" She looked around at us all;

everyone was nodding. "That's very good. Now that

you know how easily you can enter the hypnotic state

on your own, it will be even easier for you to do it

with your partner's help. And that leads us directly

to tonight's first demonstration."

Carol looked over at Jim with a slight nod and he

joined her at the front of the room. We watched as he

stepped behind Carol and put his arms around her,

holding her firmly just below the breasts. She pushed

her long hair to one side out of his face. He craned

his neck forward enough to kiss her lightly on the

cheek, then whispered something into her ear.

The effect was dramatic: Carol's legs buckled and her

arms dropped like stones as her body slumped backward.

Her head pitched to the right and drooped. Only Jim's

arms, locked firmly around her ribcage, kept her from

crumpling to the floor. I stared wide-eyed at the

doctor's limp form, fascinated. Meg's hand found mine

and squeezed, but neither of us looked away from the

sight in front of us.

"Rapid induction," Jim said by way of explanation.

"One of the suggestions I always reinforce with Carol

is that she will drop into trance whenever I utter a

particular phrase. As you can see, it's a very fast

way to take your partner into trance. It's also kind

of fun in its own right," he added, winking at us.

"Can you do that anytime you want?" I didn't see who

asked; it was one of the men.

"Pretty much. Carol and I have been doing this with

each other for a very long time, so we're both pretty

strongly conditioned; we respond without even thinking

about it."

"How long will she stay out?"

"Until I tell her to wake up ... or until my arms give

out and I drop her on the floor." We laughed

nervously at his joke. Carol was a good four inches

taller than Jim, and strongly built; I wondered how

long he could hold her up.

It was a moot point, because as the group quieted down

again Jim spoke to Carol. "Wake up on three, darling:

one, two, three."

Carol's eyes snapped open. Her face looked blank for

a second or two, but then she blinked a few times and

seemed to reorient herself. "You're wide awake now,

fully alert," Jim said, but he kept a firm grip on her

until she cleared her throat and agreed with him.

"That's an important thing to remember," Jim said,

addressing the class. "Even though your partner's

eyes are open and she seems okay, always end with the

suggestion that she is fully awake and alert. It

helps her to focus again on the here and now."

Carol came forward, looking fully alert again. "Ready

to try it yourselves?" She received a general murmur

of assent. "Good. Ladies, lie back and get

comfortable. You'll be the subjects tonight. Guys,

you are going to help guide your partner into a nice,

deep trance state. Jim and I will help you get there.

When she's nice and deep, you will suggest a trigger

that will put her back into hypnosis quickly. Then

you'll wake her up and practice using the trigger."

Tamika's companion raised his hand looking confused.

"How do we do the induction?" he asked. "I don't

remember that long speech you used last time."

"Of course not," Carol agreed. "Don't worry, we've

got some Cliff's Notes for you." Jim reached into the

canvas bag they had carried into the dojo with them

and produced a number of folded booklets. "These

booklets have a number of standard induction scripts

in them," Carol explained while her husband passed out

the materials. "You'll recognize several of the

samples in there from last week, because I blended

several standard scripts together. Look these over

together and pick the one that your partner is most

comfortable with. Think about what elements from last

week's induction worked particularly well for her, and

choose a script that focuses on those elements."

There was a general buzz as the couples leafed through

the booklet and talked among themselves. Carol came

over to us while Meg and I were still looking at the

titles. "Would you like a recommendation?" she

offered.

"Sure," Meg answered immediately.

"There's one toward the end called 'Hand Breathing'.

It's a personal favorite of mine; it produces great

relaxation, and works very well with kinesthetic

types."

Turning quickly to the relevant page, Meg and I

skimmed the text. It certainly looked interesting.

Meg was up for it, so I began studying the script

while we waited for further instructions. It was

short and pretty simple; I had it just about down by

the time Carol began addressing the group again.

"Just a few tips on how to use these scripts," she

said. "First of all, these are not magical

incantations. Just reading one of these out loud to

your partner is not going to do anything for her. The

best way to use these is to realize that an induction

script is little more than a series of suggestions

that you are giving to your partner which will result

in her entering hypnosis. Don't bury your nose in the

book and read the script verbatim -- read a line or

two, understand what it says, and relay that to your

partner. If the wording feels awkward, go ahead and

reword it so that you're comfortable with it.

"Second, it's important that you pay close attention

to your partner's body. If you say that her feet are

becoming relaxed, look at her feet and watch for a

sign that they are doing it. If you tell her that her

eyes are getting tired and heavy, watch them start to

blink or tear. The more you can pace the patter to

what is actually physically happening, the more

effective your induction will be.

"Finally, keep your voice natural. A lot of people

have this notion that a hypnotist should talk like

Bela Lugosi in 'Dracula', drawing out every word until

it's almost a chant. In real life, all that will do

is make you feel silly and distract your partner from

what you're actually saying. Just speak normally and

you'll be fine.

"Any more thoughts or questions?" When nobody spoke

up, Carol nodded. "Okay, then begin."

Meg had already made herself at home. She had herself

stretched out lengthwise on one mat, with another

acting as a pillow under her head and a third propping

up her feet. Her hands were folded together on top of

her midriff, and her eyes were fixed on me

expectantly. "Ready when you are," she said.

I was jittery, anxious, tense. To give myself a

little time to settle down I had Meg start with a few

deep breaths. Carol caught my eye from across the

room and put a hand to her diaphragm. The signal was

clear: breathe, Patrick. So I joined Meg in a couple

of deep ones and soon I could feel myself growing more

relaxed and confident. It even occurred to me that

this would segue well into the induction we had

chosen. Shifting closer to her side, I started the

induction talk.

"As you're lying there concentrating on your

breathing," I told her, "I want you to imagine a very

strange idea. I wonder if you can imagine that you

can actually breathe through your fingertips. Just

imagine that rather strange idea, that you can

actually breathe in through your fingertips." I gave

her a few seconds to think about that before going on.

"Imagine that you can feel the air moving in through

your hands, slowly at first, with perhaps just a faint

tingling sensation as it flows past your palms. And

now just imagine that feeling moving slowly up your

arms, through your elbows, up to the shoulders.

Feeling that comforting flow of air moving through

both arms, both elbows, both shoulders."

I could see Meg's hands twitching a little, her

fingers spreading apart just a hair, and took that as

a good sign. "As you feel that slight tingle, that

comforting flow of air moving through your arms, you

may notice that it leaves the muscles in your hands

feeling warm and loose, relaxed, lazy. Just imagine

that, imagine the air flowing through your hands,

relaxing them, bringing that tingle through your

elbows and shoulders, relaxing your arms completely as

it flows through. Breathe deeply and feel the flow as

your arms relax so completely." The twitching

stopped, and Meg's arms seemed to settle, rising and

falling as she breathed in and out.

After a few seconds, I continued. "As you feel that

comforting, relaxing flow of air moving through your

hands, through your arms to your shoulders, maybe

finding again that faint tingling sensation, perhaps

in your elbows or forearms this time, then moving down

through your body. Down through your chest and

stomach, down through your hips, down through your

thighs, into your knees and shins and calves." The

script had the word 'down' in italics, so I gave each

'down' some extra emphasis. "Again, you might feel

that faint tingling sensation just there, just below

your knees, moving down through your ankles and out

the bottoms of your feet. And you can find a great

deal of calmness and easiness in this rather strange

idea that you can breathe in through your fingers,

that you can actually feel the air moving through your

whole body in one single, warming, comforting flow. A

unidirectional flow, moving through your whole body in

one single comforting flow. The calmness and

relaxation you breathe in doesn't get involved with

the tensions and stresses that you breathe away from

yourself. With each breath you take, with each word I

speak, you find yourself becoming steadily more and

more relaxed."

Something touched my elbow; I turned my head and saw

Carol kneeling behind me. "You're doing great," she

said softly. "Your pacing is smooth and steady, which

is good. Can you see how well it's working?"

I looked back at Meg's face. Her jaw looked slack and

her lips were parted slightly. "She looks pretty out

of it to me. But how do I know she didn't just nod

off?"

"Look at her eyes. See how they're moving under her

lids? That's called REM, for rapid eye movement. It

means her subconscious is active. Also, notice how

still she is. Watch her breathing, see how slow and

easy it is. She's going to be nice and deep by the

time you're done with the patter. It's going to take

a little longer for some of the others, though, so

when you're finished with the script go into a

deepener. The staircase one is simple and works

well."

"Okay." Carol stood up and moved on to the next

couple, and I turned my attentions back to Meg. "Very

good, Meg. With each breath you take, each word I

speak, you find yourself becoming steadily more and

more relaxed. As you relax, you begin to notice the

weight of your head against the soft mat, wondering if

that weight might seem to gently increase as you relax

even more. Feeling also the weight of your feet on

the pad, and noticing how that weight, too, seems to

gently increase even as you think about it." I was

ad-libbing; the script actually made reference to

someone sitting in a chair with a footrest.

Remembering how well Meg had responded Monday

afternoon, I changed the imagery a little.

"You find that sensation of total relaxation, as if

you are lying on your own bed after a hot shower,

sinking gently into the mattress, letting it envelop

you, feeling totally calm, totally safe. With each

breath you take, with each word I speak, allowing that

feeling of great calmness, comfort, and safety to

increase. Feeling that warm, relaxing flow of air

continuing to move through your whole body, from your

hands, through your arms, down through your body and

out through your feet."

That was the end of the standard script. Meg's

breathing had slowed so much I could barely tell when

she inhaled. I watched her for a few moments -- she's

so beautiful when she's asleep -- then thumbed through

the booklet to find the staircase deepener.

As I led Meg down an imaginary staircase, telling her

that each step took her deeper into hypnosis, I

watched her. As we got closer to the bottom of the

staircase, it seemed as though her face began to flush

slightly. Her eyes continued to flit about under

closed lids, so I kept reading. When the deepener was

over, I looked around for a clue on what to do next.

Jim caught my eye and came over.

"Looks like you're in good shape," he commented.

"Have you decided on a trigger yet?"

"I think so." I told him what I had in mind; he made

a few suggestions, which I gladly accepted, and told

me to proceed.

"Meg, darling, you are now in a deep, delicious state

of hypnosis. You are more relaxed than you ever

thought anyone could ever be. You are completely in

touch with every part of your body and mind, and they

are all under your complete control. It's so

pleasant, so very pleasant, to let yourself relax this

way and let me take care of you, let me take care of

everything. Would you like to be able to return to

this wonderful, peaceful state of mind again, Meg?"

I waited. Several long seconds later, her lips moved

slightly. "You are deeply, totally relaxed, Meg," I

said as Jim had suggested, "and nothing can disturb

that wonderful feeling. You will find that you can

easily speak to me while you are in this state, and

that it will not disturb your relaxation in the least.

In fact, speaking while under hypnosis even helps your

mind to relax even more, taking you deeper and deeper

with every word. Would you like to be able to return

to this deep, satisfying sleep again, Meg?

Her whole mouth moved this time: "Yes, please."

"You can, Meg. You can return to this state any time

you wish. In fact, whenever I say the phrase

'Goodnight, Gracie' you will immediately close your

eyes and relax, letting yourself slide so easily, so

deeply back into hypnosis. Every time I say

'Goodnight, Gracie' you will find it easier and easier

to just let go. Every time I say 'Goodnight, Gracie'

you will go deeper into hypnosis than the time before.

You won't have to think about it, you will simply let

go and trust me to take care of you. Will you do

that, Meg? Will you let me take you back into deep,

wonderful hypnosis by saying 'Goodnight, Gracie' to

you?"

"Yes."

"Then that's what will happen, darling. 'Goodnight,

Gracie' will be your hypnotic trigger from now on, and

you will always go immediately into a deep hypnotic

sleep when I say those words to you. Won't you?"

"Yes, I will."

"Very good, Meg. Rest now, darling. Just let

yourself drift and relax, rest and sleep, until I say

your name again."

Jim nodded approvingly from his position at Meg's

feet, then went on to another couple. I sat back and

watched Meg some more, waiting for the next step. The

realization of what I had done -- actually induced a

deep hypnotic trance, on purpose -- started to sink in.

Despite all the hypnofetish stories I'd read, I wasn't

really prepared for the power rush that came from

realizing I could actually do this. The possibilities

were staggering ... not to mention arousing.

The wait wasn't too long, only about ten minutes. Meg

never stirred; in fact, the only way I could tell she

was still breathing was by putting a hand just over

her face. I wondered how much of this she would

remember later. I wondered how much I would remember

when it was my turn, and felt my cock grow another

inch in response.

"Okay, gentlemen." Carol was back at the front of the

room, speaking more quietly than usual but addressing

us all. "Now that you have your suggestions

implanted, it's time to exercise them. In a few

moments, I'm going to have you wake your partner up.

Some of these ladies are pretty deep, so it may take a

few seconds for them to come out of it. That's okay.

As soon as they seem awake to you, I want you to say

the trigger phrase. She should go back down pretty

easily; if not, then tell her to relax, let go, feel

herself slipping back into hypnosis even deeper than

before. That will probably do the trick; even after

waking, people tend to stay very suggestible for a

while. Once she is back down, I want you to reinforce

the trigger suggestion, then wake her up again. Keep

doing that until I tell you to stop. Every time you

take her back down, keep telling her that she is going

deeper than before. Questions? ... Then go ahead, wake

her up."

Here goes, I thought to myself, and turned back to

address Meg. "Time to wake up, Meg. I'm going to

count to three, and when I reach three your eyes will

open and you will be fully awake. One ... two ... three."

Meg's eyes opened very slowly, taking several seconds

to finally focus. "That was ... interesting," she

remarked as she met my gaze. She started to rise up.

"Stay down," I said, and was somewhat surprised to see

her drop back against the mat immediately. I think

Meg was surprised too; her face took on a vaguely

puzzled look.

"I must have been really out of it," she remarked.

"What happens next?"

"Goodnight, Gracie." The eyes that were watching me

glazed over, and the puzzled look deepened.

"Huh?" She was struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Relax and let go," I said soothingly. "Don't fight

it, just let it happen. Let the trigger phrase take

you swiftly, easily down into your deepest, most

comfortable sleep." As Carol had predicted, Meg gave

up the struggle immediately and sank back into the

cushions below. I repeated myself several times,

encouraging her to sink deeper and deeper, then ran

through the trigger suggestions again. It took all of

my concentration to focus on that instead of the

growing lump in my pants. When Meg had again agreed

to respond to the trigger, I counted to three and woke

her up again.

She came to more quickly this time. "Hey," she

started, "What did you d--"

"Goodnight, Gracie." Meg didn't finish her question;

her face blanked as I said the magic phrase and this

time she dropped on cue. I gave her the generic

deepening suggestions again anyway, just to help

things, and went through the sequence with her several

more times. After about fifteen minutes of this Meg

was dropping like a rock.

One time as Meg was waking up, Carol came over. "How

are you doing?" she asked, looking at Meg.

"Don't ask me," she retorted, "I can't seem to get up

off my back."

"Can you sit up?"

"I think so." Meg pulled herself gingerly into a

sitting position.

"Is that better?"

"Yes."

"Good." Looking back to me, Carol added, "Go ahead."

I put an arm around Meg's shoulders. "Goodnight,

Gracie." I was expecting her to fall backwards, but

instead she tipped to her left, landing mostly in my

lap.

"Start giving her a little more time between

triggers," Carol told me. "And keep reinforcing the

suggestions and the deepening. You'll notice that it

starts taking her longer to wake up as she goes

deeper. Just lengthen the awake time by a few seconds

each cycle and you'll have her well conditioned."

I followed her instructions as given, letting Meg have

a slightly longer 'awake break' between triggers each

time. Carol was right again; Meg did seem to need

more time to come out of it as we kept going. I

started letting Meg get up and move around during her

awake times, but I made sure I was in position to

catch her before giving her the trigger again. By the

time Carol called an end to the exercise, Meg and I

were able to duplicate what Carol and Jim had done at

the beginning: I could stand behind Meg, give her the

trigger, and catch her as she let go.

Meg was stunned when she saw how much time had elapsed

since the start of the hand-breathing induction. She

had been more or less out of it for the better part of

an hour. "How much do you remember?" I asked her.

"Not much," she answered after some thought. "I

remember the hand breathing bit, although I sort of

drifted off once or twice during that. At some point

you shifted into something about a staircase. I half

remember other voices, but they were distant -- I

didn't try to make out the words. And then you

started doing the yo-yo thing on me, waking me up and

sending me back down again right away. After a bit of

that I got completely lost. All I knew was that you

kept putting me under, and it felt good and I didn't

want to keep waking up." She took a quick look left

and right, then lowered her voice and added, "And the

more I think about it, the more my juices get flowing,

if you get my drift."

"I get it all right," I confessed. "It's pretty hot

from my end, too. The power rush I get from watching

you zone out on command ... there's no way to describe

it. You'll see what I mean."

"I can't wait." We pressed each other tightly in a

hot, passionate kiss that promised more at the

evening's end.

Jim and Carol had shooed us out of the main training

room for our break; when the second half of the class

started, Carol explained why. "While you were taking

your break, Jim took me back into hypnosis and gave me

a series of suggestions designed to illustrate some of

the simple but effective things you can do with

partner when you use hypnosis at home. We're going to

describe some basic types of suggestions, and then you

are going to develop one or two of your own and try

them out."

Meg and I exchanged intrigued glances as Carol

continued.

"First, there is the type of suggestion you

experienced last week -- one that stimulates desire.

The subconscious mind takes everything at face value;

if you tell your partner under hypnosis that something

is very sexy to her, it will be. Even something as

commonplace as a fire hydrant can become a highly

erotic image if you suggest to her that it is. As you

all felt last week, desire-enhancing suggestions are

very powerful."

I had to agree with that one; the suggestion had

certainly been effective on us.

"Another type of suggestion with good erotic potential

is one that manipulates physical sensations. You may

have heard of people using hypnosis for pain

management during dental procedures, for example.

Hypnosis can be used in those cases to lessen

sensation, but it can also be used to heighten it."

As Carol finished her statement, Jim reached over

silently and stroked her left arm. Carol's eyes

opened wide at his touch and she drew in a sharp

breath. "For example," she continued in a labored

tone, "one of Jim's suggestions was that my left arm

has become an erogenous zone. Whenever he ... oooh ...

touches my arm ... oooooh ..."

"Her subconscious causes her to react as if I'd

touched her somewhere much more intimate," Jim

concluded for her, still lightly stroking her arm.

"You can also use suggestion to make the touch more or

less sensitive. For instance, I suggested that a

touch on her elbow would be twice as erotic as

anywhere else on the arm." With that, he tweaked the

point of her elbow between his fingers.

"Yes!" Carol gasped heavily, the truth of Jim's

statement evident in her face. "Yes, it is."

I felt Meg's hand pressing against my thigh and

noticed that once again I had a first class hard-on in

progress. I wondered how far they would take the

demonstration.

"This is a great suggestion for a number of different

situations," Jim continued. "Believe it or not, it is

possible with practice to bring make your partner come

just by casual touch this way." Looking at Carol's

face, I had no trouble believing him. Rather than

prove it, though, Jim stopped stroking his wife's arm.

She paused a few moments to regain her composure, then

continued the talk.

"Another, closely related technique is to invoke what

we like to call body memory. Just as your mind can

recall facts, sounds, and events, your subconscious

can also recall physical sensations."

"A posthypnotic suggestion can cause you to experience

those sensations again at a later time and place," Jim

added. "Like this."

On the word 'this', Carol closed her eyes and leaned

back against the wall. Her arms dropped loosely to

her sides and she sighed contentedly. "For our last

anniversary, Jim gave me a full day at Elizabeth

Arden," she explained. "It was wonderful. Right now

I'm re-experiencing the full body massage."

"This isn't a full-blown hallucination," Jim added.

"Carol is fully aware of where she really is and what

she is really doing."

"That's right," she agreed. "But at the same time,

I'm getting the physical sensation of a skilled

masseur working on me. I can feel the warmth of the

massage oil, the pressure of his hands, the softness

of the towel over my bottom. And my body is relaxing

in response, at least as much as it can while I'm

standing here talking to you."

She certainly looked relaxed. Then Jim snapped his

fingers and Carol stood up straight again, the

playback apparently over.

"That was a relatively modest demonstration of body

memory," she said. "But with practice, you can make

it work for any memorable physical experience." Her

tone of voice made it quite clear that we could take

"any" literally.

Carol cleared her throat before continuing. "And

finally, the one I suspect you've all been wondering

about." She stepped back against the wall again and

nodded to Jim.

"Yes, Virginia," he said, "you can use hypnosis to

induce an orgasm."

The effect on Carol was electrifying: her thighs

closed down tight and her arms pressed folded closely

together under her breasts. She began to pant loudly,

then progressed into moaning through a slack jaw. All

of a sudden she threw her head back and cried out

something unintelligible. She rocked back and forth a

few times, then fell to her knees with a heavy, happy

sigh.

"The subconscious can control almost any bodily

function," Jim explained while Carol recovered, "even

those that we think of as involuntary. Before you get

grandiose ideas, though, let me tell you right off

that it takes a very experienced subject to be able to

orgasm on command. Don't even try it until you are

both doing well with the simpler suggestions."

"Besides," Carol remarked, "There's something a little

hollow about a climax induced by nothing more than

hypnotic suggestion. To me, it's like cheating at

Solitaire; you might win, but it doesn't mean as much

because it came too easily." We all groaned at the

unintended pun.

"In fact," Jim added, "this would be a good time to

admit that I cheated with that last demonstration.

Carol and I have experimented before with a purely

physical orgasm, and frankly the results have been

underwhelming. So to make the demonstration a little

more dramatic, I added some body memory elements to

the suggestion: I told her that the next time I said

the word 'orgasm', she would actually experience all

the physical sensations that accompanied her last

orgasm. The use of body memory along with the

autonomic control gives a better result than just

saying, 'You will have an orgasm.'"

Carol had one more point to add. "Another thing you

should make note of on that last suggestion is that it

wasn't left open-ended. Jim specifically said that I

would respond the next time he said the word 'orgasm'.

If he had simply said, 'When I say the word 'orgasm'

you will have one,' I'd be passed out on the floor by

now from the exertion. That may sound pretty erotic

to some of you but trust me, it gets old fast. Always

think about that when formulating suggestions.

"Also, be very careful in choosing your language. The

subconscious takes everything you say literally; it

doesn't process slang, euphemisms, sarcasm, or humor

the way the conscious mind does. A suggestion like,

'The sound of my voice makes you hot,' might get your

partner to take her clothes off, but she won't be

feeling very amorous if she's sweating like an ox and

guzzling ice water. Using the clinical terms for your

genitals may seem cold and unsexy now, ladies, but

it's better than having your man get an erection

whenever he spots your cat."

We all had a good laugh, but the point was well taken.

Carol reminded us again about some of the basic rules

we had discussed at the previous class, then announced

that we would now try an erotic suggestion of our own

devising.

"Use your imagination," she urged us. "Ladies, don't

be shy -- if there's something you want to try, tell

him now."

I looked at Meg. "Any preferences?"

"Surprise me," she said, lying down on the mat.

I had a pretty good idea in mind already, so I said

the magic words, "Goodnight, Gracie," and watched her

fade out. I took her through the usual deepeners,

making sure she was way under. After all the earlier

practice, the words flowed straight from memory to

mouth; I fancied I was getting pretty good at this.

Since the trigger suggestion had worked so well, I

decided to frame my new suggestion in much the same

way.

"Meg," I said softly, "I want you to think back to

last Monday afternoon, when you were practicing your

trance and I brought you to orgasm. Did you enjoy

that experience?"

"Oh, yes," she breathed.

"Would you like to experience that again?"

"Yes, please."

"As you wish, darling. Your body remembers all of the

sensations, all of the feelings, all of the sights and

sounds and smells, of that experience. Your body

remembers, Meg, and when I give you the signal you

will experience the relaxation, the pleasure, and the

orgasm in every detail, as though it were happening

again. You will again feel the softness of the bed

beneath you, the sexy smoothness of your silk robe

against freshly showered skin. You will again hear my

voice and relax, just as you did Monday. You will

again feel the weight of my body on yours as I spread

your legs apart and position myself between them. You

will again feel my kisses on your thighs and your

groin, my tongue touching all of your private parts

one by one. You again will feel yourself growing more

and more aroused, even as your body relaxes under my

touch, and you again will react exactly as you did

that day. You will let the pleasure build inside you

until you have an orgasm, and when you do that orgasm

will be as strong and as satisfying as any you can

remember having. All of this will happen when I give

you the signal. Do you understand, Meg?"

"Yes, Patrick."

"Good. The signal that will cause you to re-

experience that memory is the word 'anticlimax.'

Later tonight, when you are fully awake and alert, I

will say the word 'anticlimax' to you and that will be

your signal. Your body will respond automatically to

that signal, just as it does when I give you the

signal to go back into trance. You won't have to

think about it, you won't want to resist, you will

simply allow yourself to experience those wonderful

feelings again. Okay?"

"Okay."

It was a pretty complicated suggestion, so I went over

it with her a few more times. Once I was sure I'd

covered all the bases, I woke Meg up. Her eyes

fluttered open and she sat up. "What now?"

I shrugged. "We wait for further instructions, I

guess."

Carol noticed Meg's rising and came over to check on

us. "Done already?"

We both nodded. "What's next?" Meg asked.

"That's up the two of you," she replied. "You've got

ten or fifteen minutes to kill while I finish up with

the others. After that, just a few closing remarks

and we'll call it a night."

Meg looked at me expectantly after Carol left us.

"Well, aren't you going to try out whatever surprise

you've planted in my psyche?"

"I thought I'd save it for at home, when we're alone."

"Oooooh," she cooed. "It must be a goody. What is

it?"

I was feeling playful. "Don't you remember? I didn't

tell you not to."

"No, I don't," Meg complained after thinking. "I

guess I was too out of it to remember. But you don't

want to do it here, so it must be pretty explicit."

I just shrugged and smiled mysteriously. "Could be."

"It's a blowjob, isn't it? You're going to say a

magic word and I'll feel compelled to go down on you."

"You do that anyway when I ask nicely."

"A strip tease, then."

"Nope."

"Lap dance?"

"No," I laughed. "But thanks for all the good ideas."

That got me a raspberry and a light smack across the

leg. The guessing game might have continued, but just

then we both heard a loud 'Whoo!' from nearby:

Tamika was awake, we saw, and had a shocked look on

her face. Her companion held one of her hands and was

watching her face. He petted Tamika's hand lightly

and she whooped again, her mouth falling open and eyes

bulging. Her other hand dove between her legs as if

she had dropped an ice cube down there. A few more

light strokes and her expression gradually changed

from surprise to lust.

"That looks like fun," Meg remarked, but I didn't

bite.

The other couples were finishing up soon, too. One

woman giggled and squeezed her legs together every

time her mate said a trigger word. Another seemed

unable to take her eyes off her husband's crotch. The

most surprising moment for me came when a willowy

blonde -- I think her name was Pam -- stood up, turned

to face the whole class, and lifted her top. She

stood there, bare breasts exposed, for a good five-

count before covering up and sitting back down. Her

stunned expression told us that she hadn't planned on

doing that; her erect nipples when she did it again a

few seconds later told us she was getting quite a

charge out of it.

"Sure you want to wait until we get home?" Meg asked

again.

"Would you rather do it now?" The other couples'

antics had gone a long way toward easing my

inhibitions; compared to Pam, what I'd set up for Meg

seemed relatively tame.

"Why not?"

"Okay," I replied, feigning reluctance. "After what

we just saw, though, I'm afraid this may be a bit of

an ... anticlimax."

As I expected, Meg's body relaxed on cue. I was able

to catch her as she pitched forward and hold her more

or less upright against me. Her eyes were closed, but

I sensed she was still awake.

It didn't take Meg long to realize what was happening.

Her eyes came open for a second, just as they had on

Monday. "You bastard," she murmured, and then

programming took over; her eyes closed down with a

contented sigh.

"Relax and enjoy the ride," I told her, easing her

down onto the mat. The first moans came shortly

after, and that brought Carol over to our side.

"I see you've found something to do," she observed,

winking.

"Body memory," I explained. "We tried a little

independent study activity a few days ago."

Carol looked closely at Meg. Was that a gleam of

excitement in her eye? Meg's legs had spread, and she

was moaning freely as her body reacted to the memory

of my lips and tongue. "It appears you've learned

well," she allowed.

Meg's physical responses matched what I remembered

from Monday, sound for sound. Her moaning grew louder

and faster as she became more and more aroused. I

watched alternating between fascination and a strange

kind of envy --part of me wished that I were the one

draped across the floor wallowing in sexual bliss. I

had a feeling we were beginning to attract attention,

but other than a quick peek in Carol's direction I

didn't dare check to see who else might be looking.

The crescendo continued to build just as I remembered

it until Meg went over the edge into an orgasm that,

from the looks of her, was every bit as powerful as

the original.

When it was finally over and Meg's labored breathing

was the only sound I could hear, I looked around:

Carol, Jim, and all of our classmates were staring,

spellbound, at Meg's quivering form. Soon Meg opened

her eyes, noticed the crowd, and realized she was the

center of attention.

"Oh, shit!" she groaned, dropping back down to the mat

and covering her reddening face with her hands.

There was a quick wave of nervous laughter, then Carol

and Jim began to applaud. The rest of the group

joined in quickly. Meg started to laugh too, and soon

her hands came away from her face to reveal a healthy

grin. "I'll get you for this," she promised me as I

helped her back up to a sitting position.

"Me?" I mock protested. "I'm the one who wanted to

wait until we got home, remember?"

Meg hugged me tightly. "We can still do it again at

home, right?" she whispered hotly into my ear.

"Any time you want."



Circumstances conspire now and again to frustrate us.

So it was that weekend. Meg was on call and ended up

working both days because the MRI tech who was

supposed to be on duty quit suddenly. I found out

Saturday night that some clueless VP at our firm had

graciously agreed to let a client push up a deadline

by three weeks, which pretty much killed my schedule

too.

By Tuesday afternoon I was sufficiently caught up that

I could seriously entertain the idea of going home a

little early. I was tired and burned out, and I

hadn't seen Meg much since Friday. It was 3:20, so I

dialed Meg's cell phone.

She answered on the first ring. "Hi, honey."

"Hey. You almost home?"

"Almost. Why?"

"I'm having evil thoughts."

I could imagine the sly smile coming over her face.

"Oh really? Anything you'd like to share?"

"Call me when you get home, okay?"

"Sure thing."

A long fifteen minutes later, the phone rang. I made

sure that our home number was on the display before

answering. "Hello there," I said. "What phone are

you using?"

"The bedroom phone. Why?"

"Are you laying down?"

"No, I'm sitting on the edge." She chuckled softly,

then in a sexy voice she added, "Do you want to know

what I'm wearing?"

"First things first," I replied. "Put me on

speakerphone, then lie down on the bed."

I took a quick peek around to see who was within

earshot. Greg was out at an appointment; Barbara was

on the phone herself and looked pretty absorbed. A

clicking noise told me Meg had switched to

speakerphone.

"Okay ... now what?" Her voice sounded hollow and

distant thanks to the speakerphone.

"Goodnight Gracie." I listened for some kind of

response, but there was none -- the trigger must have

worked, I reasoned, or Meg would have come back with

some kind of remark. "That's it, darling, relax for

me. Slide way, way down into your deepest, sweetest

hypnotic trance for me." Without being able to see

her I had no way to gauge her depth, so I repeated

variations on that deepening theme for a minute or so

to be safe. Then I put my 'evil thoughts' into

action.

"Meg," I said in what I was beginning to call my

hypnotist's voice, "when was the last time we made

love?"

"Saturday morning," she answered sleepily.

"That's right, Saturday morning. Over three days ago.

That's a long time for us, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

"A very long time," I agreed. "So long, in fact, that

it's difficult to imagine going much longer. You're a

healthy young woman with an active libido, Meg. It

isn't natural for you to be deprived of sexual

pleasure for so long. In fact, even now you can feel

the craving for sex beginning to color your thoughts.

Your body wants its pleasure, and it will not be

denied. With every passing minute, your sexual desire

increases. It will not be satisfied until you have

made love with me and we have both had an orgasm. Do

you understand, Meg?"

"I understand."

"Very good. As your desire builds, you may find that

you want to do things to please yourself. You may do

anything you like in that way as long as you don't

leave the house. The energy, the passion, will

continue to build within you right up to the point of

orgasm, but you will not have an orgasm until I tell

you to. Is that also clear?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. I am going to count to three now. When

you hear me reach the count of three, you will turn

off the speakerphone, resume sitting on the edge of

the bed, and awaken. Your conscious mind will not

remember this call at all, but your subconscious will

remember and follow all of my instructions. One ... two

... three."

I heard a faint rustling sound, then a click as the

speakerphone was shut off. I imagined Meg sitting up

on the bed with a blank expression, then suddenly

snapping awake. Sure enough, a few seconds later the

phone rang again and our home number showed on the

display.

"Hi, Meg," I answered in my best nonchalant voice.

"Hi again. I'm home ... what's up?"

"I was thinking about sneaking out of here and taking

you out for an early dinner."

"I like the way you think," she responded. "In fact,

I know a way we can work up a nice, healthy appetite

first."

I could hear the lust in her voice already; this was

going to be fun. "I'm sure you do. See you soon,

love."

I almost made it, too. Within 20 paces of the

elevators, I turned a corner and ran smack into Marty,

my boss.

"There you are!" he said. "I've been looking all over

for you. I need you on a conference call with

Henderson and company."

Henderson was the client who'd screwed up my weekend.

My heart sank. "When?"

"Now -- Shirley's got 'em on hold for me."

I put on my best I'm-dealing-with-another-crisis-

right-now face and checked my watch for effect. "Can

we do it tomorrow instead?"

"I tried that already." I suspected as much -- Marty's

a pretty decent guy and hates like hell to ask anyone

to jump through a hoop. "They say it's only a few

questions, but they've got trades waiting on the

answers."

Big sigh. "Let's do it, then."

As often happens in these cases, a few questions led

to a few follow-up questions, which led to several

other people joining the call. By the time we had

everyone convinced that the new drawings really did

depict what the client had asked for, an hour had gone

by. The second Marty hung up the phone I bolted for

the door and didn't look back. Still, by the time I

got home it had been over 90 minutes since I'd talked

to Meg.

I opened the door slowly, not sure what to expect.

From the living room I heard grunting and moaning,

loud and insistent. I locked the door and headed that

way.

I was totally unprepared for what I found there. Meg

lay buck naked on the couch, her knees drawn up, one

hand at her crotch with three fingers buried in her

slit. Her other hand was working at a breast,

squeezing furiously. I must have made a noise,

because her eyes wrenched open and fixed on me.

"There you are!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," I began, but got no farther. Meg bounded

up off the couch and body-checked me into the bookcase

behind me. She pressed her sweating, heaving body

against me, put her hands on either side of my face,

and kissed me harder than I've ever been kissed

before. For a split second I flashed back to an old

horror movie and imagined Meg was some kind of demon

trying to suck the soul out of me. I decided I

deserved at least that.

"You're just in time," Meg said intently after

breaking off her lip lock. I felt her hands begin

clawing at my belt buckle. "Let's see what you

brought home for me." Before she was done speaking,

my pants were hitting the floor and her hand was

reaching through the front slit in my briefs. I was

about two-thirds erect and growing. "Attaboy," she

said, her hand starting to knead my burgeoning member.

"That's just what I need, lover. Just exactly what I

need." I cupped a hand over one of her breasts, but

she pushed the hand aside. "No need for that, I'm

way, way ahead of you. But I know just how to help

you catch up."

Dropping to her knees, Meg yanked my briefs down and

squatted a little, putting her face at the same level

as my cock. One hand reached up behind it and cupped

my balls while the other worked to spread my legs

apart some. She started kissing the sides of my shaft

while her finger traced up and down the back of my

scrotum, stroking that highly sensitive line leading

backward. I moaned helplessly as my brain turned to

mush and my cock felt like it grew another two inches.

"Ah, he likes that," she remarked between kisses.

"Let's see how he likes this." Her tongue reached out

and slowly, sensuously traveled up and down the

underside of my shaft. My legs got weak; I grabbed

onto the bookcase for support. Meg chuckled again as

her free hand traveled up and around my thigh, then

spread out over most of my buttock and squeezed. My

body told me I was about 20 seconds away from one hell

of an orgasm, less if I didn't get that tongue off my

shaft.

Summoning all of my strength, I grabbed her under the

armpits and hauled her back upward, spinning around at

the same time. Now it was Meg jammed against the

bookcase, and at almost the perfect height. I jacked

her up a little more and positioned my cock between

her legs. She got the message and reached down

between us to guide me into her as I lowered her down.

Her legs crossed behind my back and her arms went

straight out to hold onto the bookcase. I put both

hands on her butt and pulled her to me, working her up

and down on my shaft. Meg picked up on my rhythm and

started working with me, using her grip on the

bookcase to help lift and drop, lift and drop. Her

breasts bobbed tantalizingly close to my face, but I

couldn't quite reach them without breaking contact and

I wasn't about to do that.

Meg was babbling incoherently. Her pelvic muscles

squeezed down against my iron rod. I felt my entire

body tensing: T minus 3 seconds, I guessed. I held

out as long as I could, then just as my cock burst I

grunted, "Meg, come now."

My eyes rolled back into my head as I came, feeling

and hearing Meg at the same time. My arms and legs

were locked while my cocked pumped and fired. At some

point Meg started to relax against me, and I somehow

managed a controlled fall backwards onto the living

room floor before passing out.

When I came to, Meg was unconscious on the floor next

to me. Creaking a little, I rolled partway over and

kissed her forehead. I went on to kiss her nose, her

closed eyes, her cheek, then as I reached her lips

they parted and welcomed me. We kissed slowly,

lovingly, for who knows how long. Finally we came up

for air.

"So," Meg sighed. "Are you hungry yet?"



By Thursday afternoon Meg was thoroughly keyed up.

The pizza delivery guy was right on my heels, and I

was amused to see that Meg had already set the table

with disposable plates and cups. "Quick, easy

cleanup," she explained.

"A little eager, are we?" I teased.

"You bet I am," she replied. "Tonight it's my turn to

have fun."

I wasn't quite sure what to make of that. I thought

I'd been pretty careful about making sure Meg enjoyed

our encounters. True, I had really left her hanging

on Tuesday afternoon, but that had been an accident.

I'd confessed to the whole thing over dinner that

night; Meg was pretty annoyed at first, but in the end

she said that all was forgiven. Was it really?

My face must have given me away. "That didn't come

out right," she said quickly, dropping her pizza and

fixing her eyes on mine. "The things we've done so

far have been ... intense. It excites me knowing that

with two simple words you can put me under a spell and

make my body do these incredible things. I love

giving up control to you."

"But ..." I prompted, knowing there had to be one coming

soon.

Meg thought a little more before continuing. "But, so

far it's been one-sided. I want to know what it's

like to put you under my spell and watch your body

obey my commands."

"I understand, honey," I said truthfully. "Last week

when you were responding to the 'anticlimax' trigger,

I was a little bit jealous of how easily you were able

to just let yourself go. That's something I want to

experience first hand."

"You will," she promised. "I owe you a payback or

two," she added, grinning slyly.

"Be gentle with me," I pleaded jokingly.

"Eat your dinner," she replied sternly. "You're going

to need your strength later."

We ate quickly and cleaned up even more so, no major

feat considering all we had to do was put away the

leftover pizza and toss everything into the trash can.

We were underway soon after, in plenty of time to get

to class.

On the way over, I wondered to myself what suggestions

Meg might use once she had me under hypnosis. I

floated an innocent query, but she wasn't talking.

"You'll find out in due time," she teased.

Part of me kept thinking about Tuesday. She'd used

the word 'payback' at dinner; I wondered if she had a

big-time tease in mind, something like what I had

accidentally done to her. The idea was actually a

little arousing, but then in a flash I had an

interesting idea of my own -- sort of a preemptive

strike.

I looked over at Meg. She was sitting in the

passenger seat quietly, looking out the side window.

"Goodnight Gracie," I said.

Meg's body slumped down in the seat. Her seat belt

held her more or less upright, but her arms hung

limply from her sides and her head flopped to the side

against the headrest. "Meg," I said quickly but

deliberately, "listen carefully. Hypnosis is very

sexy to you, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," she answered distantly.

"That's right. In fact, Meg, you will discover

tonight that hypnotizing me is a very powerful

aphrodisiac for you. Seeing me go into trance is the

sexiest, most arousing thing you can ever imagine.

Every time you hypnotize me, you will feel a rush of

sexual excitement at the power it gives you. That

excitement will continue to increase, leading to a

natural desire to use your hypnotic power to seduce me

and bring pleasure to us both. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. At the count of three you will awaken. Your

conscious mind will not remember anything about this

conversation, or even that you were in trance at all

tonight, but your subconscious will remember and you

will react accordingly. One ... two ... three." I kept

my eyes fixed on the road, but in my peripheral vision

I saw Meg's head jerk as she awoke, then settle back

into its original position. "You okay?" I asked.

"Fine," she answered off-handedly. "Just wool-

gathering, I guess."

Inwardly, I grinned.



As usual, all of the students were settled in at least

15 minutes ahead of our scheduled start time. "The

great thing about this class," Carol remarked wryly

when she and Jim entered the dojo and saw all of us

waiting, "is that we never have a problem with late

arrivals." The ensuing group chuckle was interesting,

in that it had a mixture of nervous and eager

components to it.

"We don't need much in the way of preliminaries this

week," Carol began after noting the attendance in her

book. "We'll start out pretty much like last week,

except in the opposite roles. Men, go ahead and get

nice and comfortable and start to relax. Ladies, you

will choose an induction and guide him into a nice,

deep state of hypnosis. Once you've got the guys nice

and deep, we'll go over how to establish a trigger and

reinforce it, just like they did with you last week.

Any questions from last week before we start?"

Pam, the lanky blonde who had been flashing us the

previous week, put her hand up. "Are these triggers

permanent?"

"Good question. The answer, as in so many cases when

you're dealing with the mind, is that it depends on

the individual. Post hypnotic suggestions have a lot

in common with classical conditioning, in that the

learned responses have to be reinforced periodically

or they will be forgotten. Exactly how long that

takes depends on how strongly the suggestion was

reinforced, and how willing the subject is to respond.

For example ..." she looked over at me. "Patrick, what

was the trigger phrase you used last week to put Meg

in trance?"

Without thinking, I answered. "Goodnight, Gracie."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Meg's body sag and

realized my mistake just in time to catch her and ease

her down onto the mat.

"Very good," Carol remarked. "When was the last time

you used that trigger with her?"

"About half an hour ago," I answered sheepishly. "In

the car on the way here."

Carol grinned. "Were there other times between last

Thursday and tonight that you used the trigger?"

"A couple." I felt the blood creeping into my cheeks

as I thought about Tuesday afternoon again.

"Okay," Carol said. "As you can see, if you practice

using the trigger it remains strong. Is there anyone

here who has not used their trigger at least once

since last week?"

Nobody raised a hand. I was amused to note a couple

of the women looking at their mates suspiciously.

"Very good," she affirmed. "Just for argument's sake,

though, suppose one of you hadn't. The chances are

good that with no reinforcement for a week, you might

find that just saying the trigger is no longer enough

to get the quick response you were getting last week.

She may react slowly, perhaps going into a light

trance only. You may have to say the trigger several

times, or start an induction patter or deepener in

order to persuade your partner to let go to you.

Leave it unused for a longer time and the response

will continue to weaken until the trigger has no

affect at all. With a little practice, though, you

get the result we saw with Meg. You might want to

wake her up now, by the way."

I grinned and woke Meg while Pam asked a follow-up

question. "So if you don't use it, it wears off after

a while?"

"That's right."

"So how often do you have to practice to keep that

from happening?"

Carol shrugged. "Again, it depends. For most people,

a couple of times a week is a good idea for a new

trigger. Once it's been well established, you can

probably ease off a little without losing much

effectiveness -- say, down to once a week, and then

maybe twice a month. Everyone is different,

circumstances change, so there's no hard and fast

rule. Trial and error will tell you what works for

you.

"But don't let yourselves get hung up on that," she

continued. "Very few of the triggers you use will be

things you want to keep long term. Your rapid

induction trigger, and perhaps one or two favorite

tricks that you both enjoy, would be all that you

really want to hold onto. Use your imagination to

come up with new things rather than repeating the same

old suggestions. Make love without hypnosis as well --

variety is still the spice of life."

With no more questions forthcoming, Carol instructed

the women to begin their inductions. Meg leafed

through the booklet of inductions with a gleam in her

eye while I settled myself down with extra mats under

my head and feet.

Meg started out with a standard progressive relaxation

induction. Starting at my toes, she told me to relax

each body part in turn, working her way up through the

legs, stomach, chest, arms, neck, etc. I tried my

best to follow her instructions, but something wasn't

right. Beyond the basic stillness and a general

feeling of laziness, I wasn't getting anywhere. Meg

tried harder, making her voice deep and smooth and

sexy, but it didn't seem to help.

I could tell she was getting frustrated when I heard

Carol come over. "How are we doing here?"

"It's not working," Meg complained.

"What are you feeling, Patrick?"

I opened my eyes to answer. "Something isn't quite

right, but I don't know what. I'm trying to focus,

trying to make myself relax, but I only get so far and

can't seem to keep going."

"Don't worry about it," she replied. "Start over for

me."

I shrugged and closed my eyes again, and Meg started

reading the induction script again. After a minute or

two, Carol stopped her.

"How does that feel, Patrick?"

"About the same. I can tell my body is relaxing, but

only to a certain point."

"Okay," she said. "Let's make a couple of changes.

Meg, start with your voice. It sounds like you're

trying very hard to keep it smooth and low. That

creates tension, which Patrick can hear. Try to just

relax along with him, even let yourself slip into a

light trance if you want to; the relaxation will come

out in your voice and help put him at ease too.

"As for you, Patrick, I suspect you're thinking too

much. I'm catching some eye movements that look as

though you are trying to evaluate how well you are

doing. Are you?"

"I guess so," I admitted. "I'm just trying to help."

"Don't help," she said firmly. "That's not your job.

In fact, let's give you something else to do." Carol

left us long enough to pick up her organizer and

retrieve a small laminated card from a section in the

middle. She handed the card to Meg. "Try this one,

it's very good for situations like this."

Meg took a few minutes to get familiar with the text

on the card, then started talking. "Close your eyes

now, Patrick, and just allow yourself to be as lazy as

you can be. Listen quietly to the sound of my voice,

and while you're listening quietly to the sound of my

voice concentrate for a few minutes on hour breathing.

Breathe slowly and steadily, just as though you were

sound asleep, or pretending to be sound asleep.

Imagine, as you breathe slowly and steadily, just how

comfortable you might look while you're relaxing there

on the floor, using the power of your mind to do

whatever has to happen to make you look even more

relaxed, all the while still thinking about your

breathing, making quite sure that each breath in lasts

the same length of time as the last breath in, and

each breath out lasts the same length of time as the

last breath out. And while you're thinking about your

breathing, also notice the weight of your head against

the pillow, and keep listening to the sound of my

voice."

This was getting complicated. I tried very hard to

focus simultaneously on Meg's voice, on the feel of

the mat under my head, and on trying to look as

relaxed as possible, and it occurred to me that I

might be forgetting something.

"And while you're listening quietly to the sound of my

voice," Meg continued, "it may be that you'll realize

you've forgotten to think about your breathing. But

that's all right, you can just simply start thinking

about your breathing again while you're listening

quietly to the sound of my voice and what I'm saying

to you here. In psychology, there's a rule called

seven plus or minus two. That means that most people

can think of seven things at once, plus or minus two.

So you should be able to think of at least five things

all at the same time: the sound of my voice, the

steadiness of your breathing, the weight of your head

against the pillow, and how you might look from the

outside as you relax. That's four things, so you can

think of all four of those things while at the same

time you remember the sound of the music Carol used

the first night when she took us all into hypnosis.

Remember that strange sound that flowed through you,

captivated you, and carried you off into deeper

relaxation. That's five things now, Patrick. And I

wonder if you can think about those five things and

then, at the same time, notice the way your feet feel

on the extra mat underneath them, and perhaps how your

arms feel resting against the floor. That's seven

things now, darling: the sound of my voice, the

weight of your head against the pillow, the music

Carol played the first night, the way you look while

you're relaxing, and your breathing, and your arms,

and your feet on the mat. I wonder if you can now add

an eighth thing into all of that. I wonder if your

mind is powerful enough to think of seven plus one

things, adding in, perhaps, an awareness of the

temperature of the room, and then just testing to see

whether you can add yet another input to your senses,

so that you're thinking of nine things all at once,

thinking about all those eight inputs to your senses

and then maybe adding an awareness of the way your

eyes feel while you're thinking about all those other

things: the weight of your head, your breathing, the

music, how you look from the outside, the temperature,

your feet, your arms, the sound of my voice, and how

your eyes feel..."

She kept on going, but I was too preoccupied to keep

processing the words. My mind was awhirl trying to

juggle all those different memories, awarenesses and

thoughts -- which, I would realize later, was the whole

point. I kept trying my best to remain aware of all

of those things while Meg spoke. Finally I gave up,

dropped every thought except one: how good it felt to

relax, just relax and think of nothing whatsoever ...

"... Wake up now, darling."

My eyes opened and there was Meg, her eyes shining

down at me. "Was I --"

"Oh, yes," she said. "Lights out, darling." My eyes

fell closed again and I felt myself drifting away.

"Wake up!"

My eyes jerked open again, but it took me a second or

two to before I could comprehend what was happening.

"Wow," I started to say, but then I heard Meg's voice

and felt myself dropping into the darkness again.

Things are kind of a blur at that point. I know I

woke up several times. Well, my eyes opened several

times, anyway -- after the first couple I don't think I

was ever completely awake. I remember seeing Meg's

face hovering over me, and it seemed as though it was

coming closer and closer each time I saw her. Her

face appeared to be flushed, her nostrils flaring, and

on some level I remember thinking that she was

enjoying this a lot.

I remember a tugging sensation around my waist, and

the feel of warm vinyl against my buttocks. The next

time I opened my eyes Meg's face was more distant, as

if she were standing over me instead of sitting close

by. I had a tremendous hard-on and a sensation of

fingers playing with my balls. Realization started to

set in. "Meg, what the h—"

"Lights out, darling..."

The next thing I knew, Meg was on top of me. I was

fully erect and buried to the hilt. Her face looked

wild as she rode me, rocking on my hips. I opened my

mouth to say something, but Meg spoke again and I

passed out.

At least a half dozen times I'd find myself waking up

to the sight and feel of Meg riding me hard. I'd

start to move, to speak, to do anything, but as soon

as Meg saw me she'd say "Lights out, darling" and I'd

fall back into nothingness.

Finally I woke to the distinct sounds of Meg having a

really big orgasm. Her head was thrown back and her

chest heaved as she grunted her way through it. I

could feel the contractions in her groin and for a few

moments I completely forgot that we were in the middle

of a class. Meg recovered enough to look down at me,

and her eyes captured mine. I thought she was about

to put me to sleep again, but instead she gave me a

different command: "Come for me." That sent me over

the edge into spasms of my own. Meg stayed with me,

riding me as I bucked underneath her, milking me for

all I had. When it was over I let myself sink into

the mat, spent. I saw Meg give me one of her

mischievous little smiles as she said the magic words

again and sent me off into oblivion.

I came to this time on my feet, standing in front of a

small pedestal sink and mirror. I recognized the room

as a small powder room off the main room we were using

for class. Meg was behind me, looking over my

shoulder with a huge grin on her face. "Can you say

'somnambulist'?" she teased. "I knew you could!"

All I could do was laugh. "Have we been kicked out of

class yet?"

"Not quite. Carol called a discreet break when she

saw me pulling your pants down. They're waiting for

an 'all clear' signal from us."

We were both clean and dressed, so I volunteered to do

the honors. When I opened the door from the main

training room to the lobby area, my classmates gave me

a standing ovation. At first I wanted to find a

corner and just disappear, but they were all very

good-natured about the unscheduled interruption.

Carol led them all back into the main room for the

rest of class.

While they were getting settled, she took me aside.

"Can I persuade you to share with the class what

suggestions you and Meg were acting out? I've got a

pretty good idea what must have happened, but I think

several of them are interested in hearing it from

you."

I checked with Meg and she didn't object -- "It's a

little late to get modest now" was her reasoning -- so

I took the floor and explained what had happened. I

told them a short version of the Tuesday afternoon

story, emphasizing the suggestions I had made over the

phone and the accidental delay. Then I related the

idea I'd had in the car, and the suggestions I'd given

Meg during the trip.

"It wasn't supposed to turn out like it did," I

explained, silently begging Meg to forgive my latest

hypnotic screw-up. "I had no idea the suggestion

would be that strong." Then, to Meg, I added, "I'm

sorry, honey."

Meg came up and hugged me tightly, which brought

another round of applause from the group. Under cover

of that sound, she whispered a quick message into my

ear: "I'll get you back, my love. Count on it." I

could see the wheels turning when I looked into her

face a moment later.

Carol took over again, running through a review of the

different kinds of erotic suggestions we had discussed

the previous week. "Any questions?"

"Can I make him get hard whenever I want?" Tamika

asked, prompting a buzz of chuckles from the rest of

us.

"Probably. Assuming there isn't a physical problem

that would prevent it, the male erection is a simple

matter of blood flow, which is certainly something the

subconscious mind can control. But you still have to

watch your language -- don't just tell him to 'get

hard', he might just stand there and clench all of his

muscles. Tell him that he will feel highly aroused

and develop a stiff, firm erection. "

"How about delaying his orgasm?" My ears burned as I

heard Meg asking that question.

"You can do that. If you tell Patrick that he won't

be able to have an orgasm until you give him a

trigger, that should be highly effective. There may

be some reluctance at first, but most men are very

willing to accept a suggestion like that, especially

once they realize how much more intense their orgasm

becomes when it finally happens."

Meg nodded thoughtfully. I'm in trouble, I thought to

myself.

With no more questions, it was time for the women to

put their mates back into trance and try their own

erotic suggestions. Meg jumped up first and went over

to Jim. I started to join her, but she waved me away.

They spoke quietly for a few minutes, then Meg gave

him a quick peck on the cheek and came back to me

grinning ear to ear. "Ready?" she asked tauntingly.

"Would it make any difference if I said no?"

"Not really. Lights out, darling..."

I came to in more or less the same position, lying on

my back on the floor. From the various groans and

muted voices around, I could tell that my classmates

were trying out their suggestions. I rose up and

looked around.

Tamika had her man lying on his back and was rubbing

his smooth, bald head with her hands. He was reacting

as if she was actually stroking his cock -- his hips

were gyrating up and down, and I could see the bulge

like a tent pole pushing against the front of his

sweat pants. Pam's companion had a hand inside his

shorts and was clearly pumping himself while she

watched, a satisfied look on her face. The other two

guys were also sporting major wood, it seemed.

Carol saw that I was awake and came over. "Are we

going to see a demonstration?" she asked Meg.

Meg shook her head. "I think I'll let him stew a

while."

Carol nodded, grinning, and called the class back to

attention. She wished us all well in our

relationships, passed out her card in case we wanted

to consult with her in the future, and pronounced

class dismissed.

Meg grabbed the keys out of my hand as we approached

the car. "I'm driving," she said firmly. I agreed

and slid into the passenger seat.

Meg got us on the road quickly. "Have I stewed long

enough yet?" I asked, wondering what she had in store

for me.

That maddening, naughty grin swept over her face one

more time. "I thought you'd never ask," she said.

"Would you like a virtual blowjob?"

My body reacted instantly to Meg's cue. I knew it was

impossible because I was sitting in the car fully

dressed, but I felt the unmistakable sensation of a

soft, moist tongue caressing the sides of my cock. In

a split second I was hard as a post. The sensation

continued and grew. I felt fingers playing with my

balls, lips closing over the tip of my swollen cock

and a tongue playing across the skin. Suction, strong

suction, as my unseen lover took me deep into her

throat.

It was Meg at her artful best, without doubt the most

intense, arousing thing I'd ever felt. That Meg was

not actually sucking me off, but rather sitting in the

driver's seat chuckling as she listened to my moaning

grow more and more out of control, actually made the

situation more erotic for me. "Oh, God," I breathed,

"This is unbelievable!"

"Glad you like it," she said smugly. "Let me know

when you've had enough."

I held out as long as I thought I could, reveling in

the exquisite feelings. Then I felt the telltale

pressure in my groin and knew that I was close to

coming in my pants. "Better stop now, honey," I said,

"or this will be over before we even get home."

"There's no danger of that," she said, and fell silent

for a while.

The trip was taking forever. The sensation in my

genitals kept getting stronger, taking me further and

further into a sexual frenzy, and I was starting to

lose the ability to think clearly. "Come on, Meg," I

pleaded, "You've gotta stop this. I'm gonna cum in my

pants any second!"

"No you won't," she said calmly. "Trust me on that

one."

All I could do was groan loudly as another wave of

incredible, almost painful sensations washed over me.

"Please!" I begged.

Meg put a real hand on my leg, then slipped it over

and gave me a quick stroke across my bulging cock.

"Relax, darling," she said. "You'll be well taken

care of as soon as we get home.

"Incidentally, I've got a few stops to make on the

way..."





-wg

3/16/00

NOTE: The "Hand Breathing" and "Seven Plus or Minus

Two" inductions used in this story came from the web

site of UK hypnotherapist Terence Watts

(http://www.hypnosense.com).