Creating George's MysterybyBuckyDuckman©
Three Weeks Ago
"It can't be done," George told the pretty, petite brunette sitting across from him in the coffee shop.
"I'm telling you, it's real. I studied it when I was a psych major," Miranda insisted, sipping on her coffee. She leaned across the table, catching every time George's eyes strayed to notice her cleavage. George was easy on the eyes, but his good looks had made him lazy with women. He was used to getting his way. Miranda knew he saw her as a future conquest, but she had other plans for him.
"So, you're saying you can put me into a deep enough trance that you can have your way with me. What's that saying? You can't force the willing?"
Miranda rolled her eyes. "There's a big difference between doing me and being done by me, does that make any sense?"
"Of course it does," George said, but Miranda could tell he was lying. She saw the way his pupils dilated before he looked just to the left of her. When his eyes returned to her, they landed on her cleavage before working their way back up to her face. She couldn't believe other women fell for him. Why? Because he was hot looking and he said the right things? It would take more than lip service and a pretty face to get her to part her legs. Sitting on her heels, she squirmed. It didn't mean anything, but it kept his attention. She had to sit on her heels because she was short, too short of the table inside the booth. If she didn't tuck her legs beneath her, her boobs would rest on the tabletop.
"Here's what I know," she said, ignoring how his eyes were again on her chest. "If I can have you on my terms, I think we could have fun. But it has to be on my terms."
"And the only way you'll know it's on your terms is if I agree to let you hypnotize me."
"Yep." She smiled, waiting for him to make up his mind.
"What if it doesn't take?"
"If you can fool me, you still get to be with me and that's what you really want, isn't it?"
"What do I have to do?" he asked her chest. Miranda wondered if he even noticed the way she smiled. She had him.
Two Weeks Ago
"Aw, come on, Miranda, you're killing me," George complained as he sat across from her in her living room. "How many more times do we have to do this?"
"I don't know, three or four times? I need to be sure."
"But we've been at this week and I'm horny."
"And I'm worth the wait," she promised, holding up one finger in front of his face. His eyes focused on her finger. "Think about it, George. Soon you'll have your hands all over my body. That's what you want, isn't it?"
"Yes," he admitted and this time his eyes stayed focused on her finger. She bit back a smile.
"Now what's our deal?"
"You get to hypnotize me into doing anything you want with me."
"Good," she said, noticing again that his eyes didn't waver. "Now listen carefully as I start to count backwards from ten...." Repetition was key. By the time she reached five, she knew he was under. She was going for depth. She wanted to plant her suggestions as deeply into his subconscious as possible. Hearing him complaining about being horny was a good start. He didn't know it yet, but this next week was going to be hell for him.
"Did you do something to me?" George asked as he sat in the dining room chair they had been using.
"Why do you ask?"
"I don't know, it's just been a weird week."
George wouldn't give her a direct answer. "Just different."
"Maybe you're getting sick?"
"I don't feel sick."
"I don't know. Did you want to stop?" She was careful to ask without triggering any of the suggestions she had planted.
"No," he said.
"Good," Miranda said, holding up her right forefinger. George's eyes locked on it. "How many umbrellas have you owned?"
"Ten," he said without thinking.
"How many have you lost?"
"Nine," George replied just as easily.
"How many were pink?"
"Eight," said George.
"How many how flowers?"
"How many broke?"
Miranda smiled, watching as he fell deeply into a trance without realizing he was doing the countdown for her. Once he was all the way under, she began her sleuthing session to see how things had gone. "Have you had an orgasm yet?"
"No," George said, his eyes still open, but no longer focused. His pupils were dilated wide.
"Are you hard right now?"
"I like to be hard."
"But are you hard right now?"
"Can I be?"
"Yes," she said and waited.
"I'm really hard," George said after a few moments. Miranda looked between his legs and saw the long, thick bulge resting against his leg. She planted the last of her suggestions.
"Are all the weights painted pink?" George asked, meeting Miranda inside the foyer of the all women health club. He flashed Kim, the receptionist, a happy grin. As far as Miranda could detect, he didn't recognize Kim.
"Told you," Kim said to her.
"Told her what?" George asked, still smiling. "You look familiar to me. Do you have a sister?"
Kim rolled her eyes, laughed, but didn't answer.
"Hey George?" Miranda asked, attracting his attention. She held up her finger and he focused on it. "How many umbrellas are in the room?"
"Ten," he answered and his gaze never left her finger as she talked him into a trance. Once he was under, Miranda asked him to repeat the conditions of their game. "You get to hypnotize me into doing anything you want."
"Is it okay if I talk?" Kim asked in a soft whisper.
"Yeah, he's under. It won't matter."
"But he looks the same."
"Yeah, but watch this," Miranda said, telling George his right foot was nailed to the floor before telling him to follow her. He tried, but couldn't move his right foot. "Problem?" she asked.
"Yeah, some idiot nailed my foot to the floor," he complained.
Kim laughed. "What else can you make him do?"
"At this point? Almost anything."
"What's your plan?"
"He's going to lead my yoga class tonight. Naked."
The women in Miranda's yoga class ranged in age from eighteen to forty-eight and their skill varied just as widely. George attracted a lot of attention as he followed her into the room. The younger women looked interested. The older women admired the eye candy. "Who's the meat?" asked Leigh, an overweight divorcee who had lost ten pounds since starting Miranda's class with plenty left to go.
"I know him," one of the younger women said. "He comes into my store at the mall just to hit on me."
"You're pretty," George told the petite blonde.
"Fuck off," the blonde muttered.
"I thought this was a women only club," Margo asked, a thirty something mother of two.
Miranda held up her hands before things got out of control. The women quieted down. "George? Turn around so you can't hear us, okay?" He nodded and turned his back to the class. The women laughed, not believing. But after a few more demonstrations, their skepticism faded.
"So, if you can make him do anything, will you take requests?" Margo wanted to know.
"Make him strip!" one of the women from the back row suggested. Miranda missed which one, but it didn't matter. Everyone liked the idea. Miranda smiled, stood in front of George so he would hear her, and told him to strip.
"I'm really hard," he told her, already pulling off his t-shirt.
"Good," Miranda said. There were hoots and hollers behind him as he took off his clothes, but he couldn't hear them. The cheers grew louder when a couple of the women noticed he was hard. Miranda held up her hands, quieted down the class, and gave her next suggestion to him. "You won't notice that you're naked, you'll stay hard, and now, you get to lead my yoga class."
"But I don't know yoga," George said, giving her a worried look.
"Sure you do," she said, turning him around to face the class.
George faced the class, his long, hard manhood standing straight up with need. It had been two weeks since his last orgasm and his need showed. To a room full of laughter and giggles, he led the class through fifteen minutes of what he thought a yoga class should do before Miranda took over. With George front and center, she led her class through their usual work-out. George tried to follow along, stretching and bending himself as best as he could into every position Miranda demonstrated. It wasn't a very good work-out for her class, they were too busy laughing at George, but she didn't care.
"Makes me wish I had signed up for the aerobics class," Janet said when the class ended.
Miranda had more for George, but the rest wasn't going to happen in front of her class. With George dressed again, she drove him back to her apartment with Kim giving Susan and Tina a ride. Back in her apartment, the four women laughed and drank more wine than they should while George waited on them. He stayed naked and hard. Miranda was the one who suggested a game of ring toss, using George's erect penis as the target. It was Susan who had the idea that George should shave for them. Tina wanted to see him jerk-off. Kim, who had sat in on the yoga class, added that he should jerk-off with his legs over his shoulders so he would cream on his face. They drank and laughed at him until the smaller hours of the morning. With a few last instructions, Miranda sent him home before anyone took things too far.
It was eleven in the morning when Miranda met George back at the coffee shop. She gave him a happy smile, past her hangover. George turns quite a few heads as he slipped into the booth across from her. She was sure his skin tight, pink leotard had lots to do with it, though the hot pink shorts he wore did add to the look. "How do you feel?" she asked, biting back a burst of laughter.
"Good. You rode me hard last night."
"Oh? What makes you think that?"
"I'm sore in places I forgot I had," he said, returning her grin.
"Do you remember everything we did?"
George nodded, his happy grin turning lecherous.
"Tell me the highlights."
George checked over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being overheard and spun her the tale of all the ways they had made love last night. Miranda interrupted to ask for more details at times. "How many times did we do it?"
"Four," he said, clearly proud. "Why don't you remember?"
"Because I wasn't there for it, George."
He blinked twice, hard. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you did it yourself four times last night, thinking of me."
"Then why am I so sore?"
Miranda finished her coffee before giving him one final command, the command of total recall. It took effect as she pulled away in her car. Too bad George wouldn't remember her phone number, her name, or where she lived.