The Addicted Natural Ch. 02

And then all of a sudden, I was looking at a blank door. No name. The words "Submit and Obey" were still there, but they were painted on rather than being etched. The door next to it was also devoid of name. For a moment I didn't understand, but then I turned and looked at the door on the other side of the hall, and there I was. "Brenda." Below my name, the words were painted, not etched. I stood looking at it for the longest time, then took a deep breath and turned the knob. Locked! I felt a little panicked. This was my room! I suddenly knew that I wanted in there; I didn't want to turn back now; I really NEEDED to become a part of this. This was my special place, and I wanted inside!

I came to realize that this was a riddle of some sort; a test. I had to fulfill some task to prove myself worthy. I stared at my door for long minutes. Why was my "Submit and Obey" painted, while the Naturals who had come before me had their inscriptions etched? And then I knew. It was what he had told me before. If I didn't obey, I'd never awaken. I must obey everything, EVERYTHING, I was told while in this room. That way, when given the instruction to wake up, I would do so at once and immediately, just as I would obey every command. I must submit to this obedience to gain entrance. I spoke the works aloud: "Submit and Obey," and at once the words on the door began to glow red hot. They were obscured by smoke for a moment, but when it cleared, they were etched deeply into the wood. There was a click, and the door swung open.

I wish I could describe it to you, my room. I can't; I can't remember. It's like the best dream of my whole life, but when I wake up it fades away. I try to hold it, but the good feelings I have when I awaken from trance sort of distract me, and I can't remember the specifics of it. I can only tell you that it's the best place I've ever been, and I can't wait to go back! I do remember that when the door closed behind me, it sealed forever, and I can never get in or out that way again. But that's not important. When I go into trance, I'm just ... there! There's a bed in the middle of the room, and it's the most wonderful, most comfortable, softest bed in the whole world. He talks to me while I'm on the bed, and I talk to him, but I can't remember what's said. I'm naked, of course, but that doesn't seem to matter at all. I do know that I loved it there. I didn't ever want to leave. It was magnificent.

And then he told me to wake up, and of course, I did.

We weren't anywhere near the diner. It took me awhile to realize that we were many blocks away, over on Harper's Bay Lane. I yawned and stretched, and felt wonderful, and he told me we were going to walk a little more. He offered me his arm, and I tucked my hand inside his elbow and let him lead me. I could tell it was what he wanted. He was talking about his Naturals again, and just like in the restaurant, he sort of prattled on and on. But I think he was deliberately trying to embarrass me, because he didn't hide the fact that he had had sex with each of them.

Then suddenly, after a whole block, I gasped. I think it was the aftermath of the dream that caused me not to be aware of it sooner. I had been nude in my dream for so long that it felt almost natural. "What happened to my bra?" I screamed.

He seemed annoyed that I had interrupted him, and in fact, I suddenly wished I hadn't. I wanted to tell him that the bra wasn't mine ... that it was borrowed; but I just couldn't let him know that! He told me that the bra was in my purse, and that he'd made me go into the bathroom in the diner and take it off. He said it was very becoming, but he liked me better without it. And, with my hand still on his arm, he continued to stroll down the street as if my bra was of no importance at all. And then, mortified, I said "My panties!" but I'm afraid it sort of came out as a squeaky whisper.

"Ah, those," he said, and he reached into the pocket of his sports coat and pulled them out. "Hope you don't mind my keeping these. Sort of a souvenir."

And that made it official, I guess. He was going to have sex with me. I was about to become one of his statistics. My panties would be his trophy. I was surprisingly calm about the whole idea. He continued to lead me, strolling along the street, talking

.

"What are you going to do to me?" I asked him quietly.

He barked a laugh. "Anything I want," he said.

He must have seen a little panic in my eyes, but he didn't try to placate me, he just told me what was next. "Do you see the end of the lane down there?" he asked, pointing. I nodded. "Well, when we get there, I'm going to hypnotize you again. And that ought to put you over the edge, although I'm beginning to think you're there already."

"Where?" I asked.

"Addiction," he answered calmly. "Not physical, of course, or even mental addiction. Psychological. It's probably the most powerful type of addiction there is. But, as I say, I think you're probably already there." He looked at me compassionately. "Now, don't worry your pretty little head about it too much. It's not as if you're going to have to turn to a life of crime to feed your need. Anyone can be trained to put you under. It won't be bad. And you DO like it, don't you?"

I shivered, but I held his arm tighter.

He told me that he almost hadn't had the opportunity to meet me today; that he'd gone looking for the Natural he'd made the last time he'd given a show here a year ago. Her name was Dawn – I'd seen her on one of the doors – and he'd wanted to look her up because she'd been a real wildcat in bed. Dawn had gone under almost as easily as I had, he told me, and had been easily addicted. She'd do anything for the opportunity to go back to her "special place." After she'd worn him out in the bedroom, he'd put her under and had a really in-depth talk with her.

She had just broken up with her boyfriend, and was miserable. She had been the one to break it off, and now she had serious doubts. He had been a control freak, not only in the bedroom, but in just about every aspect of her life. When they went out to dinner, he'd insist on ordering for her without asking her what she wanted. He had insisted she move in with him, and then wanted to pick out what she wore, what she cooked, what she did in her spare time. Lately, he'd introduced her to bondage, and then he'd actually whipped her. She'd left him after that, but deep down, subconsciously, she had loved the loss of control. He excited her. And more to the point, she loved him. Menlo planted a couple post-hypnotic commands in her, cleaned her up, and had her lead them over to this guy's apartment. He had given her to him, "body and soul." (She used her fingers to make the quote marks.) He taught the guy how to put her under, and then he just left her with him.

This morning, Menlo had gone looking for her, and when he finally found her, he discovered that she's "pregnant out to here" (she used her hands in front of her stomach to illustrate his comment), and after a little questioning, he found that her boyfriend is now her master, her husband, and the father of her baby, "in that order." So he said goodbye to Dawn, and had gone looking for a new Natural.

Maybe he was just making it all up, but the story really shook me. Could he do that to ME? Just GIVE me to somebody, like a possession? I should have felt disgusted. But I felt .... I mean, I couldn't stop thinking about ...

(22-second pause. She was obviously fighting some sort of inner battle. She wanted to tell me everything, but for some reason, she also wanted to suppress this thought. Eventually, she left the statement unfinished and shifted to the next part of her story.)

All at once, he stopped walking and turned to me. It took me a moment to understand. We were at the end of the lane. There were no houses here, just that little park. Do you know the one I mean? He looked down at me and I thought "This is it! If I let him hypnotize me again, I'll be addicted forever." But when he told me to look into his eyes, I did just what he said. They were sort of scary, and very dark, but I couldn't look away. He told me to relax, and I told myself: "I can't do this. I can't let him!" But I did. All the strength just seemed to flow right out of me. I couldn't hold my arms up, and I knew I was lost. This was it! I was going to let myself become addicted! When he told me to surrender, I didn't even think about it; COULDN'T think about it. I wanted to sleep so badly. I was giving my soul to him. And in return, he gave me my room back. Suddenly, I was just there. No door, no dreams. Just naked in my bed, in my room.

We talked some more while I was there on my bed, but again, I don't remember what it was about. Then he made me do something ... something inside the room. There's something else there ... but I can't remember what it is. I just know that when he told me to wake up again, we were over on Hobart Street, standing in front of one of those houses that offer rooms for rent. Do you know which ones I mean?

And I knew right away, that this was it. His place. He was going to take me inside and do it to me. He reached out with his hand, but I backed away a little and shook my head. This seemed to really surprise him, but he wasn't upset.

He said: "Let's just go inside. You can ease my loneliness, and then I'll hypnotize you again." And without thinking, I put my hand in his and let him lead me to the door. I wanted to scream, I was so disgusted with myself! Just the mention of putting me in a trance had me following him like a puppy.

"How can I feel this way?" I asked miserably. "I only just woke up! Why do I want it so badly already?"

And he said: "You don't understand the nature of the addiction. It's not like other forms. Perhaps I shouldn't call it 'addiction' at all. It's really a NEED. It isn't dependent on the passage of time. If I leave you tomorrow and you are never hypnotized again, your need will not increase. It will always be just as it is now. And if you've just awakened from a trance, it will still be the same."

I confess that the idea of my never being hypnotized again had me a little panicked. It still does.

(15-second pause.)

His room is on the first floor, and he unlocked it and took me inside. Right away, he turned me toward him and started unbuttoning my blouse. It was happening so quickly! I was very nervous.

"I not very good at this," I told him, feeling very meek. "I've never really had a boyfriend."

And he said: "I know."

I was afraid he didn't understand. I wasn't fighting him, but I wanted to make him happy in return for giving me my special room. "I'm not a virgin," I told him.

And he said: "I know."

So, if he knew I wasn't a virgin, then he knew about Uncle Brad. (16-second pause. She kept looking at me, trying to make up her mind.) I should tell you about Uncle Brad.

("You don't have to, Brenda.")

No, I want to. I need to. It happened during Spring Break of my sophomore year, the semester after I had your class. My mom came and got me and drove me down to Iowa to see her sister on the farm. It started out to be a nice visit, but on the third day, Mom and Aunt Reida decided to drive into the Quad Cities to go to a mall. I didn't want to go. It was an hour and a half each way. So I stayed and helped Uncle Brad with some of the chores around the farm.

Late that afternoon, he told me to come out to the barn and see what he had there. He was growing his own marijuana, and he rolled a joint for me. He said he and Aunt Reida had little parties of their own. I smoked one, and got really, really high. And then, all of a sudden, he was all over me. I fought a little, but he was very strong, and with the pot and everything; well, the way he was kissing and touching me really did feel sort of nice, even though I didn't want it to. He got my pants off somehow, and rubbed me and sort of pinched my clit, and all the while, he was kissing me. Finally, I just sort of gave up; but when he shoved his ... his cock into me, it hurt something awful. He held me down and pushed in and out of me for about a minute, maybe less, when his whole body got all stiff and started to shake, and I knew from what other girls had told me that he was coming. When he rolled off of me, I ran inside the house without my clothes and locked myself into the bathroom.

His cum was ... well, it was everywhere! It was all sticky and stringy and it smelled like ... well, nothing I'd ever smelled before. I cried awhile, then took a long bath, and then took another one. I was bleeding a lot, and at first I thought he'd really injured me, but it was just my period starting. I didn't tell him that, though. In the back of my mind I was sort of hoping that he'd worry at least a little bit about getting me pregnant. Mom and I left the next day, back to college, but I didn't see him – he was out in the fields. I've never seen him again.

And ever since that day, I've been afraid of letting myself get into a position where a guy is going to do that to me again. That's why I dress the way I do, to sort of discourage guys. They leave me alone, and that's okay by me. (Pause.) I've never told anybody about that ... you're the first.

Well, I mean, I must have told Menlo about it, because he knew I wasn't a virgin. But I didn't want this sex to be bad for him. I wanted him to enjoy it. I was almost certain I wasn't going to be a "wildcat," or anything, but I felt as if I should do SOMETHING to make it special for him. But I didn't know what that something was. Shouldn't I be kissing him or something? I didn't really want to. I was so confused. I'm very shy, and it was all I could do not to cover myself when he finished taking off my blouse and skirt.

Then I thought about one other thing he might be concerned about. "I'm on the pill," I told him quietly.

And he said: "I know."

But if he knew about the pill, then he knew about ... about ....

(25-second pause. I wasn't going to rush her here.)

If he knew about the pill, then he knew about ... you.

("ME?" I'm afraid I shouted this. Immediately, tears sprang to her eyes. I didn't how to react. I was sorry I'd yelled at her, but ... ME!? She was crying steadily now.)

Please ... don't ... hate ... me! (Little sobs punctuated the words.)

("Hey," I said gently. "Hey, now! Don't cry like that. I don't hate you. I like you a lot. I'm just trying to understand, that's all." I kept trying to soothe her for a full minute while she got hold of herself. Finally, she was able to continue. She couldn't seem to make herself look up at me, and spoke down at her hands resting in her lap.)

I think about you sometimes. No, that's not really true: I think about you a lot. I guess I had a real crush on you in Lit 204, but I knew it was just foolish. You couldn't date a student; I knew that. And even after Uncle Brad, I had all these crazy thoughts about you; being with you; doing things with you; letting you do things to me. At night, sometimes, I'd lie in bed and think about you, and I'd ... I'd .... well, (shrug) ... you know; just think about you. I've seen you around campus several times. I've even walked by here to see where you live, but you never saw me, and I never spoke to you because I didn't want you to think ... (shrug) ... you know.

But I knew you weren't dating anybody, and when we wound up in the writing class together, I thought maybe you'd really ask me out this time. You seemed to want to. At least, I told myself you did; you were just working up the courage. And when you did, I was going to say yes. And when you took me out and you tried something with me, well, I was going to let you. My roommate, Sarah, during sophomore year; she told me all guys are after just one thing! And she certainly should know, she dropped out for a year to have a baby. And after Uncle Brad, I sure believed it! But when you tried something with me; well, I wasn't going to try to stop you. I'd already decided. And I didn't want you to feel pressured or anything, so I started taking the pill about five weeks ago.

And now Menlo knew about it, about my feelings. I had no secrets from him. He knew everything. So there was nothing else to say or do. I just stood there, and he started running his hands all over me; my breasts and tummy. He told me to spread my legs apart, and I did, just like that. And he put his finger inside me and started rubbing while he leaned down and kissed me. His breath smelled like stale cigarettes.

He pushed me onto the bed, and I just sat there, watching while he undressed. He was very careful with his clothes, and he hung up each thing as he took it off. My blouse and skirt were just sort of lying there in a heap on the floor. I kept thinking the whole time that I ought to be doing something, but I didn't know what. I certainly wasn't a wildcat, that's for sure! I felt stupid and foolish.

And then he was in bed with me. I lay on my back while he felt me up some more and told me how much I was going to enjoy this. He put his finger back inside me and told me how wet I was, and THAT really surprised me. He kissed me again, and I finally put my hands on his shoulders because I couldn't just let them lie there beside me. I really DID want to make it good for him, because if I did, he was going to hypnotize me again.

And then, he finally lost patience with me. He pulled my legs apart and positioned himself above me and he just pushed it right in. I was expecting it to hurt, but it didn't. He was right; I really was wet, because it just sort of slid right inside me. It filled me, but it was all slippery and soft and hard all at the same time. He started pumping me, using the same sort of rhythm that Uncle Brad had used with me, and I gripped his shoulders and wanted to help somehow, but I didn't know what to do. And, just like Uncle Brad, after about a minute, it was all over. His body got all stiff, and his face looked like he was really in pain, but I guess it was just from his pleasure. He sort of growled, but it was more of a yell, and he pumped a few times really hard, and then he pushed all the way in and started shivering and grunting.

He lay like that, on top of me, for the longest time, breathing hard and just resting. Then he rolled off of me, and without a word, he went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He didn't come out for fifteen or twenty minutes, and I just lay there on my back, thinking that now I was a prostitute. I really was! That's the definition; I've read it in the dictionary. I had given my body for compensation. He had something I wanted, and to get it, I'd given myself willingly. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come.

After the shower stopped, I heard the tap running in the bathtub, but it didn't seem to register. Then, he came out of the bathroom, smiling at me, wearing only a towel around his waist, and told me to come in and take a bath. My body seemed to obey him instantly, and without thinking, I went in and got in the tub. The water was very hot, and I had to sort of ease myself down into it, but after awhile, it felt marvelous. I tried to let my mind drift away and think of nothing at all while he stood at the sink and shaved.

When he finished, he sat on the toilet seat and told me to look into his eyes. And, of course, I did. In no time at all, I dreamt I was floating in the ocean; but then the ocean disappeared, and I was lying in my soft bed in my special room. He hadn't lied. He'd told me that if I comforted him, he'd let me go back there. In my special room, it didn't matter that I was a prostitute. Nothing mattered.

When he awakened me, we were walking again. I didn't ask him where we were going, I just sort of followed along, and neither of us said anything. You can't imagine how I felt when I realized that he was bringing me HERE. How did he know? Nothing made sense.