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prevention
An Ounce of Prevention
(c) Copyright 1999 by Wiseguy
"...three. Eyes open, wide awake, feeling great."
Mrs. Green opened her eyes slowly, taking a few
moments to reorient herself. "Is that it?" she asked
uncertainly.
Dr. Russell Johnson, PhD and Certified Clinical
Hypnotherapist, smiled reassuringly at his patient.
"That's it," he affirmed.
"You mean just doing that will cure my tension
headaches?"
"Better than that, Mrs. Green," he explained.
"Whenever you feel yourself getting tense, you can use
what you've learned here to relax yourself. Make a
habit of relaxing and you'll find that not only do you
not get those headaches, but you'll feel better in a
number of other ways too. An ounce of prevention is
worth a pound of cure."
"That's so true, Doctor," she agreed.
Yes, Russ thought to himself as he watched his last
patient of the day depart, the key is almost always
prevention. As a therapist, he spent much of his time
helping patients get to the root causes of their
problems; prevention was a favorite theme of his, both
in practice and in his own life.
Calmly, unhurriedly, the doctor completed his ritual
for closing the office at the end of the week. He
locked the file cabinets, his receptionist's desk, and
his own desk, ensuring that all files and the
appointment book were properly put away. He checked
the windows one more time, set the thermostat for the
weekend and locked the door on his way out.
His drive home took the usual fifteen minutes. Once
again he congratulated himself on choosing his office
location well; while he enjoyed an easy, traffic-free
trip the opposing lanes were jammed with frustrated,
trapped commuters gritting their teeth through another
grueling Friday rush hour. Another benefit of
planning and prevention, he thought pleasantly.
A delightful aroma greeted the doctor as he walked
through the door of his suburban home. Setting his
briefcase down in the foyer, he made his way to the
kitchen.
Brenda Johnson looked up when her husband entered the
kitchen. "Hi, dear," she said busily, her hands
continuing to mix together the ingredients of a meat
loaf.
Russ hugged his from behind and kissed her cheek
while she worked. Then and only then did he allow
himself to look around at their kitchen.
The kitchen was Brenda's domain, and it was clear that
she had been indulging in her passion for cooking.
Russ saw a large pile of mixing bowls, utensils, pots
and pans -- the place resembled the kitchen of a small
restaurant at dinner hour. "Cooking for the week
again?" he asked.
"Sort of," she replied. Brenda, a middle school art
teacher, loved to cook but seldom had time for it
during the week. Her solution was to prepare a number
of meals at once and freeze them so that they could be
pulled out and reheated on those evenings when time
was short. "I've got a turkey cooling, a
lasagna and some garlic bread in the oven, and I
should be able to get two meat loaves from this
batch."
"What are we having tonight?"
"I was planning on the lasagna," she answered. "Lynn
has a dance tonight, remember? We need to eat soon so
she can be there at seven."
"Anything I can do?"
"Would you run some warm water in the sink for a
minute? My hands are freezing!"
Russ lifted the lever on the kitchen faucet, swiveling
it to the left until the flowing water was very warm
to the touch. "All set."
Shooting him a grateful look, Brenda removed hands
from the cold meat and let the water flow over them,
warming them. "Mmmmmmm, that's much better."
"Anything else?"
Brenda knew better than to ask Russ for help in the
kitchen. It was a matter of style: Russ was a
perfectly good cook, but his methodical nature
demanded a recipe, exact measurements, and correct
ingredients. Brenda's approach was more artistic --
lots of improvisation, substitutions, and measurements
by eyeball rather than cup or spoon. Trying to
collaborate in the kitchen just didn't work for them.
"See if Lynn is done with her homework, and maybe get
her to set the table?"
Russ kissed his again. "Done deal," he said, and
set off in search of their daughter.
He poked his head into the room and the faint,
tinny sound of hard rock leaking out of a pair of
headphones led him to the couch. There he found his
teenage oblivious to the outside world,
recumbent on the couch but somehow balancing a heavy
algebra text, a spiral notebook and a TI-83 calculator
in her lap. Her left hand danced over the calculator
keypad while her right tapped a pencil against her
notebook in time to the music.
Russ stood back and just admired his for a
few moments. Lynn was in many ways the perfect
combination of himself and Brenda: she had a sharp,
curious mind with a strong creative streak and, as she
was demonstrating here, a gift for concentration. She
also had an athletic physique and an outgoing manner
that Russ knew had to be inspiring all sorts of sexual
fantasies among her male peers.
Russ waited for the pause between tracks then cleared
his throat loudly. Lynn picked up the sound and
noticed him; her left hand immediately went to the
Pause button on her disk player. "Hey, Dad!"
"We're eating soon," he told her. "Think you could
help set the table?"
"Can it wait ten minutes?" she asked. "I'm almost
done with this."
Russ nodded. "Go for it," he told her.
"Thanks!" She hit the Pause button again and was back
to work even before the music started. Russ marveled
again at her powers of concentration and left her to
her studies.
Before long they were all sitting down to dinner.
Russ toyed a little with the first bite of his lasagna
before tasting it, examining it, trying to guess what
would be different about it this time. Seeing that
Brenda was watching him, he ended the game by putting
the bite in his mouth.
"Is it okay?" she asked, a little anxiously.
"It's fine," he answered. "Delicious, in fact."
Brenda sighed and relaxed a little. "Good. I thought
I had more ricotta cheese in the house, but when I
went to get it out there was only a little bit, so I
threw in some extra mozzarella and a little Monterey."
"It's great," he reassured her. As usual, Brenda's
instincts had been right -- the lasagna was certainly
different in texture and flavor, but it was also very
good.
The dinner conversation followed its usual pattern,
with Brenda and Lynn recounting the high points of
their days. Russ listened carefully, offering a few
observations. When the women paused, he brought up
the subject of the dance.
"It's nothing fancy," Lynn explained. "Just a social.
Student Government is providing a DJ and
refreshments."
"How about chaperones?" Russ asked.
"Mr. Richter is in charge of that, so you can bet
he'll have everyone covered. At the last one he had
extra adults with flashlights on patrol outside."
Russ remembered. "And as I recall, it wasn't a wasted
effort."
Lynn gave her a classic "Oh, Dad!" look. "All
they found was a few couples necking," she protested.
"It's not as if anyone was getting laid in the parking
lot." Grinning mischievously, she added, "There are
lots of better places to do it than that, anyhow."
Russ and Brenda both recognized the ploy and let it
go. "Who is it you're going with again?" Brenda
asked.
"Jason Parker."
"He's the one, isn't he?"
"Seventeen," Lynn answered, rolling her eyes. "He's
only one year ahead of me."
"At your age, those years are like years," Russ
warned. "Besides, if I remember right he's almost
eighteen, and you're barely sixteen and a half.
That's a big difference. his age can get ...
aggressive."
"Relax, will you? If he gets too friendly, I can
handle it." Lynn's voice projected confidence; the
truth was she was hoping that Jason would get a little
too friendly for her father's liking.
"I know you can," her answered. "But remember,
stay out in public. An ounce—"
"—of prevention, I know," she finished. "I'll be
fine."
His fatherly duty done, at least for the time being,
Russ let the matter drop. He knew he could trust his
daughter to stay out of trouble. Lynn had learned to
accept the questions as his way of showing concern,
and had learned not to let them bother her too much.
After dinner Lynn went upstairs to her room to get
changed for the dance. Stripping down to her
underwear, she stood before her dressing mirror and
took a long, appraising look at herself.
She looked pretty damned good, she decided. Regular
aerobics classes with her had helped keep her
lean in the middle while her bust and hips had filled
out into the classic hourglass shape. "Are you sure
you know what you're doing?" she asked her reflection.
Not really, she had to admit. All of her previous
dates had been her own age. Most of them were so
intimidated by her looks that they barely made eye
contact. Jason would be different, she knew. Not
only was he older, he also had a reputation for being
well versed in the ways of sex. Lynn wasn't looking
for a lover just yet, but her hormones insisted that
she at least start exploring the possibilities. She
assumed that sometime that evening Jason would be
looking to do some exploring of his own.
She weighed her clothing choices carefully, trying to
strike a balance that would invite a little friendly
fondling without promising more. She changed into a
front closure bra, but went with modest hip hugger
briefs instead of her preferred Rio-style panties.
The dress code for the dance was casual, but Lynn
decided a pair of hose might help to make the
point. From her closet she pulled out her favorite
knit jumper, a simple dress in light blue with cap
sleeves, a slight plunge in the neck, closed in the
front with buttons all the way down. It would
very nicely over her bust, clinging just enough to
show off her shape without looking too tight. She had
just finished buttoning the dress when she heard a
knock on her bedroom door.
"It's Dad," her father's voice announced. "Do you
have a minute?"
Quickly checking her buttons -- they were a bit tight,
but not gapping too much -- she opened the door for
Russ. "What's up?" she asked, all innocence, as he
came in and shut the door behind him.
"Those top buttons are looking a little stressed," he
remarked, indicating her jumper. "It might be time to
retire that dress."
"It'll be okay for tonight," she said, pulling down on
the fabric a little. "What did you need?"
Russ smiled. "Just a few more marching orders before
you go."
As he finished his sentence, Lynn's face blanked. Her
eyes glazed over and then closed, and her shoulders
slumped.
"Very good, Princess," he said softly as her head sunk
down to her chest. "Just relax and listen to me for a
few minutes. There are some very important
instructions you need to hear and remember. Are you
ready?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Excellent." From behind his back Russ produced a
homemade CD. He put the CD into Lynn's stereo, which
was on her dresser, and pressed the Play button. In a
few moments he heard his own voice begin speaking
softly, soothingly. He left the room as quietly as
possible, gently closing the door behind him.
The doorbell rang as Russ came down the stairs. "I'll
get it," he called loudly enough to be heard over the
clashing of pots and pans in the kitchen.
At the door was a man, tall and gangly-looking,
in black jeans and a Marilyn Manson T-shirt. His eyes
look up at Russ while his head remained cast slightly
askew. "Hey ... is Lynn ready?" he said.
"You must be Jason," Russ replied, and waited for the
boy to nod. "Lynn isn't quite ready yet. Why don't
you come wait in the study?"
The boy's head bobbed up and down once, then he strode
through the door on the balls of his feet, looking
around appraisingly. Russ closed the door and led the
boy to his study, a small, quiet room off the foyer.
Jason's head scanned the room quickly and he plopped
himself down into the doctor's favorite chair.
"Coke?" Russ offered.
For the first time since entering the house, Jason
spoke. "No thanks."
Russ eased himself into another chair next to Jason.
"How did you come to meet Lynn, Jason?"
The looked puzzled. "School," he said, in a way
that clearly implied "Duh!" as well.
Russ decided to ignore the tone. "You're a senior,
aren't you?"
"Uh-huh."
"Any plans for after high school?"
"I'm in a metal band," the replied. "We'll do
some gigs, see where it goes."
"Interesting," Russ said in a decidedly disinterested
tone as his hand unobtrusively palmed a small plastic
control off the end table between the chairs. He
pressed a button on the control and above Jason's head
a small electric motor began to work. Russ cleared
his throat to cover the startup noise and continued
speaking. "Before Lynn comes down, Jason, I think we
should go over the house rules on these engagements."
"No problem." A sparkle, a small movement from above
caught the boy's eye. He looked up and noticed a
small glass ball about the size of a golf ball hanging
from the ceiling.
"You're right," Russ agreed, slowing down his tempo
just a little bit. "If you stay within the rules,
there will be no problem at all. Are we clear on
that?"
"Sure," Jason said, his eyes looking more intently at
the ball. It was moving, twirling slowly, causing
reflections of the room lights to dance off its
surface like a tiny disco ball.
"No alcohol," Russ continued, watching the boy's eyes
fix on the ball. "No unsafe driving. No going off
alone." He let his voice drop further, slow down
more, until he was speaking in a very quiet, soothing,
almost sing-sing tone.
"Okay."
"I want Lynn home by eleven o'clock, Jason. No
later."
"Sure thing." The ball was fascinating; so pretty, so
shiny. As Jason watched, it seemed to get closer. He
imagined he could see a thousand reflections of his
own face in its surface. He felt his body relaxing,
his mind focusing on the image of the ball.
"I see you've noticed my concentration ball," Russ
noted softly. "I keep it up there to help me think.
Looking into its shiny surface is so relaxing, isn't
it?"
"Yeah..."
"I find that if I watch the ball very closely, and
concentrate, my whole body begins to relax. The more
I watch, the more I relax, and the more clearly I can
see the ball. Just watch the ball, watch and breathe
deeply, slowly..."
Jason took a deep breath, and as he let it out he felt
his body sinking into the easy chair. He found that
he could rest his head against the back of the chair
and still just keep the ball in sight. It felt good
to watch the ball, to relax. He was dimly aware of
Doctor Johnson speaking to him.
"After you've been watching the ball for a while,
Jason, it's only natural that your eyes become tired.
Eyes do get tired, after all, especially when they are
so busy staring at a beautiful object. The more you
look the more your eyes relax and you'll find that
they want to close. They become strained, watery."
Seeing Jason blink, he added, "They may even blink
from time to time. That's perfectly okay, tired eyes
like yours need to blink, to close. Each time they
blink, though, they tend to want to stay closed. Each
time, it becomes harder and harder to open your eyes
again. Soon your eyes will close and then simply stay
closed."
As Russ watched, the blinked again and again, each
time longer than the time before. Within a few
minutes, as Russ continued droning on about the
heaviness, the tiredness, he saw Jason's eyes close
and stay closed.
"Very good, Jason," he continued. "Your eyes are so
tired now, let them stay closed. Let them rest. You
can still see the ball in your mind's eye. Imagine it
now dangling before you, spinning and twisting, each
movement sending shining a spark of light down to your
body. Each spark as it touches relaxes that part of
you even more. And as you watch the sparkles of light
fly off the ball to touch and relax you, you'll see
that the ball is slowing down, down, slowing down more
and more the more you relax. Soon you will be so
relaxed, so completely at ease, that the ball will
stop moving completely. You will then be as relaxed,
as content, as you have ever been. Until then, Jason,
just watch the ball as it spins and reflects, relaxing
you more and more deeply, until everything comes to a
slow, easy stop. When the ball stop, Jason, I want
you to lift your right index finger to let me know."
Russ watched in silence as Jason drifted further into
hypnotic trance. The boy's own mind was providing all
the guidance he needed now. Jason appeared to be a
very good subject and would soon be in a highly
receptive state of mind. While Jason sank deeper and
deeper into trance, Russ quietly got up and closed the
study door. He wasn't sure if Brenda would approve of
this, and he knew Lynn certainly wouldn't. Checking
his watch, he ran a quick estimate of how much time he
had to work with -- probably not more than a few
minutes.
Jason's index finger lifted, signaling that he was at
his maximum trance depth. Russ stopped the ball
overhead and put the control back down on the table
before turning his attention back to the boy.
"Very good, Jason," Russ continued. "You are now
deeply, deliciously relaxed. It feels good to be so
very relaxed, so very calm."
Glancing back at the door, Russ proceeded. "Jason, it
is very important that you behave yourself at this
dance. You must not do anything that will harm Lynn
or yourself, do you understand? Above all, I want you
both to be safe. If Lynn tells you to stop doing
something, you must stop. If she tells you no, she
means no and you should not try to change her mind.
You may be frustrated or angry if that happens, but no
matter what you must make sure that Lynn remains safe
and unharmed. Will you be sure to bring her home on
time, safe and unharmed?"
"Yes, sir," came the sleepy reply.
"Thank you, Jason. I know that you will do everything
you can to repay my trust. When I count to three, you
will return to your normal waking state, feeling
refreshed and alert. Your conscious mind will
remember only that we went over the rules and that you
agreed to have Lynn home by eleven. Do you
understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. One ... two ... three."
Jason's eyes popped open. "You got it, I understand.
We won't be late."
"I know I can trust you, Jason."
It wasn't long before he heard Lynn on the stairs. He
opened the study door in time to meet her at the
bottom. She had complemented the dress with some
simple jewelry and a light touch of makeup. Her face
was glowing as she looked past her into the
study. "Ready," she announced.
Brenda emerged from the kitchen to help deliver a few
final, friendly admonitions about being safe and
careful, then they both watched as Jason jumped into
his car and popped the door open for Lynn. Russ was
pleased to note that both fastened their seat belts
before the engine started.
"You are such a sneak," Brenda teased as they watched
the car pull away. "Do you hypnotize all of her
dates?"
"Excuse me?" Russ said, startled.
Brenda smiled broadly. "I saw that boy's face when he
came out of the study. He looked like he'd just been
roused from a nap. What did you do, Russell?"
Caught red-handed, Russ confessed to hypnotizing the
boy and explained what suggestions he'd used. "It's a
little unethical maybe," he added, "but did you get a
look at that kid? Who wouldn't take advantage of an
opportunity like that?"
"You've got me there," she growled, nibbling on his
ear. "Speaking of opportunities ..."
"Yes?"
Brenda put her arms around her husband from behind,
squeezed, and let her right hand rest over the front
of his pants. "We've got the house to ourselves
tonight," she whispered seductively into his ear. "I
intend to take full advantage."
The dance was well attended. Jason and Lynn parked
near the back of the student lot and made their way to
the side entrance. As they approached the ticket-
taker a tall, muscular in his fifties spotted
them. He had a four-cell Maglite in his right hand
and a mobile phone clipped to his belt. "Miss
Johnson, Mr. Parker," he acknowledged, nodding
formally at the students.
"Evening, Mr. Richter," they replied together, then
walked past and into the building.
The dance was being held in the all-purpose room, an
expansive room near the side entrance that served as
cafeteria during the day and as a meeting room,
secondary gymnasium, theater or dance hall as needed
otherwise. That night the room was decorated in paper
streamers. On one side of the small stage the DJ had
set up his equipment and was busy taking requests from
the students. Two long folding tables on the other
side of the stage held platters of cookies and sweets
and a pair of large plastic punch bowls. About half
of the crowd looked to actually be dancing; the rest
were simply standing around in small groups talking
and socializing.
Jason and Lynn started toward the middle of the dance
floor, but were intercepted by another in jeans
and a Nine Inch Nails T-shirt. "Yo, Jason!" the
hailed.
"Hey, Steve," Jason answered coolly. "What's the
deal?"
"I'm chairman of the underground refreshments
committee," his friend answered proudly. "You two up
for some liquid refreshment?"
Jason nodded, looking over at Lynn. She had a good
idea what Steve's idea of liquid refreshment would
include -- probably something 80 proof. Why not, she
decided. "Sounds good to me."
Steve led them up onto the stage and between the two
refreshment tables, then past the backstage curtain
and around a corner to a prop storage area out of
sight of the main stage. Pulling aside a swath of
extra black fabric, he revealed a 2-gallon insulated
jug with a spout on the bottom front. A sleeve of
plastic cups stood next to it. "This is good shit,"
he explained as he dispensed three cups of what looked
to be fruit punch. "I mixed it myself. Three parts
Hawaiian Punch, one part Smirnoff's." He handed half-
full cups to Jason and to Lynn. Holding his own
aloft, he added, "Salud, dudes."
Lynn's hand trembled a little as she raised the cup to
her lips. She'd had a little wine on occasion,
usually at home and with parental consent; this would
be her first taste of hard liquor. Holding her
breath, she tipped the cup and took a sip.
Almost immediately her senses were assaulted by the
strong, bitter taste of the vodka in the punch. It
burned and stung at the same time; before Lynn could
force herself to swallow, her lips opened and the
punch sprayed out from her lips. "Ack!" she
exclaimed. "That's absolutely vile! How can you
drink this?"
Laughing, Jason took a swig from his own cup. "It's a
little strong," he said, "but not that bad." Both
boys looked at Lynn as they took another taste.
Feeling like her maturity was in question, Lynn tried
another small sip. Once again she found herself
spitting it out almost immediately, this time back
into the cup. "It's bad enough," she replied. "You
guys can have it. I think I need some mouthwash."
It took three cups of the Student Government provided
punch to wash the bitter taste out of Lynn's mouth.
By that time Jason and Steve had enjoyed a good laugh
at her expense, but she was a little surprised at how
quickly the razzing stopped. Then, as she noticed
Jason's eyes wandering over her buttons, she decided
it was not so surprising.
Russ sat quietly on one end of the living room sofa, a
new John Sandford novel lying unopened in his lap. He
had sat down with every intention of reading the book,
but his mind kept worrying about Lynn.
This was a new feeling for Russ. Up until that night,
all of Lynn's dates had seemed safe enough. Jason was
different. His look, his manner, and above all his
age spelled TROUBLE in the eyes of a still
young enough to remember what 18-year-old are
like. As soon as he'd heard that Lynn had accepted a
date from a that age, Russ had known that some
preventive measures would be needed. He just hoped
they would be enough.
"She'll be all right, you know."
Russ started at the unexpected sound of his wife's
voice and looked up to see her approaching. She had
showered and changed into a silky gold robe. As she
sat down beside him and snuggled in, he found his eyes
wandering over the robe looking for clues as to what
she might be wearing underneath it. Judging by the
smooth feel of her side against his arm, not much.
"Lynn's a smart, headstrong girl," Brenda repeated,
"she'll be all right."
"I hope so. She's been ... different lately. The way
she carries herself. The way she dresses."
"She's noticed that she has a very nice body, and
isn't ashamed of it. That's healthy, Russ, you know
that."
"Until somebody like Jason comes along and thinks
she's coming on to him."
"What do you want her to do, darling, dress like a nun
and carry her books against her chest until she's
twenty-one?"
"Of course not," he answered. "But I don't want her
jumping into bed with people at sixteen either.
Especially not people like Jason."
"What's wrong with him, besides that he's dating your
daughter?"
"Didn't you see him? He dresses like a slob, he
doesn't look people in the eye, and he's got no plans
and no ambitions. And he kept staring at Lynn's chest
when she came downstairs."
"So we know he's not a scholar and he's not gay,"
Brenda quipped.
Russ shot her a dirty look.
"Okay," she continued, "I agree, Jason isn't the kind
of we would like to see Lynn dating. But it's too
late to debate that now; she's out there with him
already. All we can do is trust that she knows what
she is doing. I think she'll reach the same
conclusion we did."
"Before or after he gets her clothes off?"
"Didn't you take care of that possibility in the
study?" Brenda's eyes were sharp and mildly accusing.
"I didn't get time," he said. "I told him that above
all she must come home safe and that no means no, but
I didn't have time to go through everything. Besides,
he'd probably have resisted an outright order against
sex."
"Don't underestimate yourself," she replied, an extra
gleam coming into her eye. "You can be very charming
and persuasive when you want to be." Reaching into
the pocket of her robe, she pulled out a velvet bag.
"In fact, I was hoping you'd use some of that charm on
me this evening."
Russ took the bag, grinning. Brenda was already
beginning to flush with anticipation; they were going
to have some serious fun this evening, he could tell.
"Any requests?"
"Give me the works," she answered lustily.
Lynn was having second thoughts about the date too.
Jason wasn't much of a dancer; his idea of dancing was
to wait for a slow song then press her body against
his and feel her ass while she tried to avoid him
stepping on her feet. Otherwise he stood around and
chatted with Steve. Both took frequent hungry
looks at her chest, prompting Lynn to wonder if they
had been bottle fed as babies.
When Jason finally asked if she would like to go
somewhere more private, Lynn actually considered
turning him down. She had found nothing particularly
arousing about being stared at and groped on the dance
floor and was almost ready to call the evening a loss.
Curiosity won the toss, though, and she agreed to go
with Jason.
She followed him out the opposite side of the room
from the entrance, through an emergency exit that had
been appropriated by the crowd as a smoking area.
Watching the chaperones carefully to make sure they
were not spotted, they quietly crept around the corner
out of site. They walked along the perimeter of the
building to the back door, where Steve was waiting to
open it from the inside. Once they were back in the
building Steve slunk away.
The hallway was dark and quiet; all the activity was
supposed to be at the dance. Lynn followed Jason
through a side corridor, wondering if he intended to
make out in an alcove somewhere. He finally stopped
at a darkened doorway on the edge of the English
department -- the faculty lounge. The door was locked,
as it should be after hours.
"Watch this," he said, pulling his driver's license
out of his wallet. He pushed on the door gently; Lynn
saw it move back about an eighth of an inch. Jason
jammed his license into the gap between the door and
the frame right next to the handle and the door
opened, swinging inward silently. They slipped inside
and closed it behind them.
"Ready?" Russ asked, his fingers reaching into the
velvet bag.
Brenda nodded, licking her lips in anticipation. She
lay back against the arm of the couch, supported by
pillows. Her hands were folded in her lap, her legs
straight.
Russ was now sitting on an ottoman he had pulled up
next to her. Seeing her nod, he pulled a shiny gold
pocket watch out of the bag and held it aloft. His
wife's eyes locked onto it instantly, opening a little
wider as the watch danced and swung before them.
The watch was special to both of them. Brenda had
given it to Russ on the day he received his
hypnotherapy license; with its shiny gold surface and
long chain, the watch could have come straight from
any number of movies. Russ appreciated the humor,
and while he had never used the watch with a patient
it had become Brenda's favorite prop for private
sessions with her husband.
Russ sat in silence, his fingers gently rolling the
chain to keep the watch spinning, watching as his
wife's eyes glazed over and her face went slack.
Words were not necessary; Brenda had succumbed to the
gleaming beauty of the watch so many times that her
mind was fully conditioned to respond to it. Within a
few minutes Russ was pleased to see her eyes grow
heavy and close, her shoulders slump, and her feet
rotate outward -- all signs of deep physical
relaxation. Only then did he begin to speak,
encouraging Brenda to sink deeper into herself, deeper
into hypnosis. He watched her eyelids begin to
flutter as her eyes darted about underneath them;
reaching out, he touched her hand and felt the
coldness that he knew was normal for her, a sign that
Brenda had entered the somnambulistic state. She
could hear and speak and move about in response to his
suggestions without waking up.
Normally, this state was quite deep enough for the
kind of erotic play that Brenda and Russ both enjoyed;
tonight, however, he had something special in mind.
Lowering his tone and slowing his speech even more,
Russ encouraged his to go deeper, to feel herself
growing detached from her body, distant, focused
totally on her own thoughts while her body remained
still and motionless on the couch. Brenda responded
well; her breathing and heart rate slowed to extremely
low levels, and her skin paled a little in response to
the reduced blood flow. She had reached the Esdail,
or coma, state: her body was so relaxed that only the
simplest movement was possible, and her mind was so
open to suggestion that even some involuntary
functions could now be influenced. Brenda had been
this deep several times before, and Russ knew that she
particularly loved the unrivaled serenity that came
with this state.
"Brenda," he began, speaking slowly and deliberately.
"You are now in the deepest hypnotic trance you have
ever experienced. I know you can hear and understand
me, but I also know that your body is too relaxed for
you to speak. That's okay, don't try to talk or nod
or move unless I ask you to. Just lie back and enjoy
the experience."
Brenda heard her husband's words as if from a great
distance, through a fog of total contentment.
She knew it would be too difficult to respond, and was
happy that he understood and didn't need her to.
"Your body feels very distant now," he continued.
"Distant, dim, almost numb. But that is changing.
Even as I speak, your sense of touch is growing more
and more sensitive. You feel the smoothness of the
silk against your body, the texture of the pillows and
the couch cushions underneath you, the warmth of my
hand as I touch your cheek. You are aware of all of
these sensations, and yet you remain deep in hypnosis,
focused totally on your thoughts and feelings.
"Now Brenda, you are starting to feel a special kind
of energy building within your mind: an erotic energy,
the buildup of passion and desire and lust. You can
feel that energy in the center of your being, growing
stronger every second. Concentrate on the erotic
energy, Brenda, concentrate and feel it grow."
Drifting in her pleasant mental fog, Brenda became
aware of a growing warmth and light inside her. It
was a very sensual, enjoyable feeling. She hardly
noticed that Russ was gently repositioning her arms.
Russ was pleased to see the physical signs that his
suggestions were having the desired affect. Some
color had returned to Brenda's face and her breathing
had deepened slightly. As he carefully laid her arms
down at her sides, he also noted with satisfaction
that her nipples were already fully erect, pushing up
against the silk robe. He slowly opened the robe and
slipped it off her shoulders; as he had suspected, she
was naked underneath.
"The erotic energy keeps growing stronger, Brenda," he
said. "Stronger with every breath, with every touch.
Your entire body is now an erogenous zone, so
sensitive that any touch that you feel, no matter
where you feel it, sends a wave of sexual pleasure
through you and adds even more to that growing mass of
energy."
Still moving very slowly, Russ reached over and placed
his index finger on Brenda's chest just below the
breastbone. A sharp intake of breath from his
told him that the suggestion was working. As he
traced a straight line down toward her navel, he could
see her chest rising and falling faster and heavier as
she grew more aroused by his touch. By the time his
finger was circling her navel he could smell the musky
scent of her increasing desire. She gasped as his
finger reached her mound.
"Very good, Brenda," he told her. "You can feel that
energy building, building. You will need to orgasm
soon. In fact, darling, you will find that one orgasm
is not enough; the energy will continue to build and
grow even then. You will orgasm again and again, as
many times as you wish, as many times as you can.
Each orgasm will be longer and stronger than the one
before. Yet not matter how many times you climax, you
will remain deeply hypnotized. Any time you feel
yourself rising out of your deep hypnotic state you
will take a deep breath and let yourself sink back
down to where you are now."
Brenda was only dimly aware of Russ's words. She
found it hard to focus with the growing waves of pure
sensual delight that were flowing through her at his
touch. She knew there was no way to control the
feelings; she was simply letting them carry her along,
higher and higher into bliss. When she felt his
finger slide across her mound and down her leg, she
knew she would orgasm soon. His finger had come about
halfway up the inside of her thigh when she felt the
rush of the first climax carry her away.
Russ smiled broadly as Brenda panted through her first
orgasm; he hadn't even touched any of her favorite
spots yet. "Like bolts of lightning in a storm," he
said, "Your orgasms will continue without diminishing
the energy inside you. Each one is longer and
stronger than the one before." He continued teasing
her, running his finger up the inside of one thigh and
down the other, saving the highly sensitive area in
between for later. When he reached her mound again,
he pressed down on it with his palm and sent Brenda
moaning into another climax.
Brenda savored the second climax. It surprised her
how quickly it had come after the first; it surprised
her even more that instead of feeling spent after her
second orgasm, the mass of erotic energy within her
actually seemed to grow as a result. Then all
coherent thought was swept away as she felt a hand
cover her breast, triggering a third powerful orgasm.
This isn't so bad, Lynn was thinking. She and Jason
had felt their way through the dark room to a vinyl-
covered sofa and had begun kissing. She had returned
the kisses tentatively at first, expecting at any
moment to feel Jason's fingers on her buttons, but he
seemed to be in no hurry. She felt his tongue press
through her lips and opened them for him, meeting his
tongue with her own.
After several minutes of deep kissing, Lynn was
starting to feel warmth in between her legs. She felt
a little giddy, and cautioned herself to keep things
in control. Jason's hands were still on her back,
sliding up and down her spine and pressing her against
him. Then one hand moved to the side. She lifted her
arm a little and the hand slipped into the opening,
coming to rest firmly against the side of her breast.
She let out a noise that was part grunt, part chuckle.
Jason paused a moment, then his thumb came down across
the point of her breast. Lynn felt the sweeping of
his thumb through bra and dress and found that it sent
a small shiver down her spine. Her hips shifted a
little on their own and that heat in her center began
to build. She pulled back her face to moan, but what
came out sounded more like a snicker.
Suddenly Lynn felt very light-headed. She could see
Jason studying her face, looking for a signal of some
sort, but she didn't know what to say. His hand moved
more squarely onto her and squeezed, kneading
her through the fabric of her dress. Lynn took a
sharp breath, looked Jason in the eye, and opened her
mouth to tell him to go ahead, please continue.
Instead, she giggled. Jason's eyebrows shot upward in
surprise, and the resulting look on his face prompted
Lynn to start giggling more.
"What's so funny?" Jason demanded.
"Nothing," she assured him, taking a deep breath to
try and control herself. "I'm sorry," she added, "I'm
not real experienced at this."
"Well, watch and learn." This time Jason took both
hands and planted them firmly on her breasts,
squeezing and stroking. The feeling was quite nice,
but Lynn felt another burst of giggling rising up from
within. She tried her best to choke it off, but
failed.
Jason opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. Lynn
could see him editing, revising his remark as she
fought to control the giggling fit. "Am I tickling
you?" he finally asked. "Is that it?"
"I don't think so," she answered. "What you're doing
feels nice. It's just ... somehow ... strange. Let's try
another approach."
Jason thought about it for a second. "How about
this?" He shifted his body forward, took Lynn by the
shoulders and pulled her down with him as he lay back.
She got the idea and shifted herself so that she was
directly on top of him, her hips above his. His arms
went around her again and they started kissing again.
Soon she felt the hardness of his cock pressing
against her through his jeans. One of Jason's hands
drifted down to her butt and pulled her tighter
against him; her hips started to gyrate again on their
own, and the feel of his stiff cock against her crotch
was very pleasant indeed.
The dizziness began to take hold of Lynn again just as
she felt Jason's other hand work its way between them
and undo the front of his pants. Taking the hint and
willing herself silent, she reached in between them
and slipped her hand into his open fly. She felt the
giggling start to rise in her throat and choked it off
as her fingers found their way into his pants. He
shifted a little to make it easier for her, and she
succeeded in getting her hand around his rigid shaft.
Lynn felt the slickness between her legs as she
squeezed down on his cock through his cotton briefs.
She started to imagine having that hardness inside of
her, and involuntarily her throat opened and a loud
chortle squeaked out. She tried to stop, but the
floodgates were now open; she broke into loud,
uncontrollable laughter.
"SHHH!" Jason hissed, no longer concealing his
irritation. "You're gonna get us busted, bitch!"
The word "bitch" hit Lynn like a bucket of ice water.
She yanked her hand back from his crotch and gasped.
"What did you just say?" she challenged.
Jason winced as her hand withdrew. "Nothing," he
said, knowing he'd made a tactical mistake.
"It didn't sound like nothing. It sounded like you
called me a bitch." Lynn put her hands down on either
side and started getting up.
Jason put his hands over her one more time,
but Lynn drew back. Frustrated, he pushed hard
against her with his hands, almost pushing the
off the couch. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he
demanded.
"Nothing," she insisted. "I'm trying, really."
"Trying to me off," he replied. "Either shut up
and put out, or get the fuck out of my sight. I don't
need this shit."
The laughter was totally gone now; in its place Lynn
felt a growing resentment. What kind of creep had she
allowed herself to get involved with? "I'm starting
to think this is a bad idea. Would you take me home
please, Jason?"
Jason spit and pushed her off the couch the rest of
the way. "Take yourself home, you worthless cunt!"
Lynn fought back the urge to slap Jason in the face.
"You've got no right to speak to me that way just
because I'm not easy enough for you," she retorted,
heading for the door. "If you don't want to drive me
home, I'm sure I can find someone else to do it."
Swearing some more, Jason fumbled with his pants as
the door slammed shut.
Brenda shuddered through another orgasm. How many was
this? She didn't know or care; she was still floating
on a cloud of bliss, each orgasm taking her higher
than the previous one yet still leaving her wanting
more. She felt Russ's arms underneath her and dimly
realized she was being carried physically as well as
emotionally.
Russ held his carefully as he carried her naked
body up the stairs. He could easily have brought her
up to a lighter trance and told her to walk upstairs
herself, but she seemed to be having such a good time
that he decided to leave her at full depth. Russ had
lost count of the orgasms he had induced in her;
indeed, it was starting to appear as though she was in
almost continuous orgasm, as one yielded almost
immediately to the next. Seeing the ecstasy on his
wife's face, hearing it in her moans and sighs, had
Russ almost ready to come as well. He was tempted to
simply undress and take Brenda in the living room, but
he had every reason to suspect Lynn would be home
early; it would be better to ensure privacy. Besides,
he was enjoying himself too much to hurry.
He set his down gently on the bed, kissing her
tenderly as another orgasm came to an end. "Brenda,"
he said softly, "I am going to count to three. When I
reach the count of three you will awaken completely.
You will remember everything that happened while you
were hypnotized, and the mass of erotic energy will
still be with you. You will be fully awake, but on
the verge of the largest orgasm you have ever
experienced. However, the only way you can release
the energy and have that orgasm is for you to make me
come inside you. The energy will keep growing until
you do that. One, two, three."
Lynn sat silent in the passenger seat, staring out the
window. Jason was also silent, his stone face fixed
on the road ahead. Lynn had been prepared to ask Mr.
Richter to drive her home, but Jason had found her at
the last minute and asked her to ride with him,
muttering something about a promise to her father. If
he thought this was going to make up for his behavior
in the faculty lounge, he was dead wrong.
Stealing sideways glances at the boy, Lynn asked
herself what she had seen in him to start with.
Mostly it had been the promise of a little experience,
an introduction to the sexual side of dating. She had
gotten that, Lynn decided, and something more -- a look
at the ugly side. From now on, she told herself, she
would be more selective in her choice of dates.
Brenda's eyes opened slowly. At first she simply
stared blankly up; eventually her eyes moved and came
to focus on her husband's face. She was close to
exhaustion, but still in the throes of an almost
unbearable sexual arousal. From the way he was
looking at her, she could tell he was ready for the
grand finale.
Rising from the bed, she took him quickly in her arms
and locked her mouth on his in a kiss that bristled
with erotic tension. Her hand went directly to the
clasp of his pants and, with well-practiced skill,
opened it. He was already hard, and as her hand slid
in over the fabric of his briefs, she could feel a
small sticky spot where he had oozed a little bit of
semen.
Russ just stood by and let Brenda do the work, lifting
his arms enough to let her pull the off of him,
then kicking his pants and underwear out of the way
once she jerked them down to the floor. She started
to pull him toward the bed, but he resisted. "I'm not
ready yet," he protested.
"You look ready to me," Brenda came back, pointing to
his erection.
"I'm in no hurry," he replied casually, knowing that
Brenda was still in a sexual frenzy.
"Tease!" she scolded. "But I know how to light a fire
under you." Brenda dropped to her knees and began
kissing her husband's extended penis, running her lips
and tongue along the side of the shaft, causing him to
groan in response. "Now I've got you," she said, and
plunged her mouth over his cock. She him hard,
working her tongue up and down the side of his shaft.
Her fingers reached around from behind and began to
tickle his balls.
Russ's knees buckled when he felt her touch his balls.
He was normally good at holding his erection for a
long time, but after what had already happened that
evening he realized he would not last much longer.
"Okay, you win," he conceded.
Brenda pulled her mouth off him with a loud slurp. "I
knew you'd see it my way," she said, taking his hands
and pulling him back toward the bed. She sat down on
the edge of the bed. Russ put his hands on her
shoulders playfully and pushed her over onto her back,
leaving her legs hanging off the bed. Lifting her
butt slightly to match his height, he slid himself
easily into her canal and buried his shaft to the
root.
They moaned together as each felt the deep
penetration. Brenda raised her legs up against Russ's
chest, giving him more leverage to pound into her.
They moved together, moaning and grunting with their
efforts, until Russ was ready to climax. Sensing his
imminent release, Brenda clenched her muscles tightly
around his shaft. Russ groaned one last time as his
cock fired.
Brenda felt the first burst of semen released inside
her and braced herself. Even as Russ continued
pumping into her, she felt herself lifted up by a
tornado of erotic force. Her back arched and her legs
clamped together as her entire body tensed and shook
with the power of her final orgasm. She heard someone
screaming as if from another room, only to realize a
few moments later that it was actually her. She
stopped even trying to control her body and lost
herself completely in the sensations.
Russ watched his writhe and squeal from her final
mind-blowing orgasm then pass out. He lovingly
rearranged her on the bed and covered her with a
blanket, then crept back downstairs to start his book
and wait for Lynn.
As he suspected, it was still early when he spotted
Jason's car pulling in front of the house. He watched
through the window as the car stopped and Lynn got
out. She had barely closed the door when the car
started moving again.
Russ jumped back into his chair and grabbed his book.
Hearing Lynn's key in the lock, he quickly opened the
book to a random page near the middle.
When Lynn opened the door, he pretended surprise.
"You're early," he said, making a show of looking at
his watch. "Is everything okay?"
"No," she replied flatly.
Russ put down the book and embraced his daughter.
"I'm sorry, honey," he said sincerely. "Is there
anything I can do?"
"No thanks," she said, returning the hug. "I'll be
fine."
"Would you like to talk about it?"
"Not tonight. Maybe some other time. Right now I
think I need a hot shower and a good night's sleep."
Squeezing her one more time, she wished him
goodnight and trudged up the stairs.
Russ watched his go, then returned to the
living room. Spotting Brenda's silk robe still draped
over the couch, he picked it up and sniffed it
delicately, enjoying the lingering scent of his wife's
passion.
Lynn would be okay, he thought to himself. Judging by
the way Jason had dropped her off, he felt sure his
safety measures had been tested and proved sufficient.
He felt a little guilty about what he had done; he'd
have to make it up to the somehow, and soon. He
wasted no sympathy on Jason, who he figured was
probably already planning his next seduction.
Definitely not the type for Lynn.
Russ settled back into his favorite chair and picked
up his book, congratulating himself on once again
proving the value of an ounce of prevention.
-wg
11/2/99