The Addicted Natural Ch. 03

"How do you feel?"

"Great! I knew you could do it to me! I went right under, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did. Are you hungry? I was thinking of going out for a bite to eat."

"Pizza!" she squealed. "Could we get some pizza?"

Oh, this was too easy! Everything comes with a price, however, and in this instance, she insisted on "getting ready," which meant, of course, twenty minutes in the bathroom, primping for our first date. It was worth the wait, however. She had taken her hair down, and it was absolutely breathtaking; very long, straight, shiny, and raven black, it hung to the small of her back. Her makeup had been retouched, her blouse tucked into the skirt. The bra must still be in her purse, however, and I made a concerted effort not to leer.

I won't go into great detail about our evening out, except to say that it was perfect in every respect. We walked to the local pub, her hand on my arm, exactly the way she had described walking with Menlo; but by the time we got there, I'd taken her hand in mine and we were like a couple of teens suffering from a terminal case of infatuation. For an hour, we talked, and I was absolutely enthralled by her. She deftly kept steering the conversation back to my work, my writing, my thesis (which was due in a week), and she made several really good recommendations. For the first time, I came to understand that it might be extremely advantageous if my hold over her was more than physical. If she could write as well as she spoke, we might actually undertake a few projects together. I wondered how long it would take her, through a little concentrated tutoring, to surpass my abilities.

All through the meal (we split a medium cheese pie – four pieces for me, two for her), she sipped from her one glass of wine and became more and more animated. By dinner's end, she was absolutely giddy. She laughed at my smallest joke, giggled from time to time, and seemed to blush frequently. Finally, she leaned forward and whispered to me: "I wish I'd worn the bra."

"I think I've made an admiral effort not to stare," I told her with mock seriousness.

"Oh, you've been a right proper gentleman," she said, slurring the words slightly. "But the bloke behind you is making eyes at me." It was an English pub.

"Shall I bop the bloke's block off?" With a snort, she dissolved into a fit a giggles. "Time to get you out of here," I said, and helped her to her feet.

If we hadn't walked home in silence, I might not have been consumed with such insidious thoughts. I realized at the time, strolling with my arm around her, that what I was contemplating was worse by far than the crimes of which I had accused Menlo, but I knew I couldn't resist this overwhelming temptation. If there is a God, I thought, I would surely go to hell for this. And yet, I knew I would do it. The idea was simply too good to possibly pass up.

It was an epiphany, really. I guess we all have our little hang-ups, our little insecurities. Mine, quite frankly, was one of size. I considered myself under-endowed. Not that I couldn't use the equipment I was blessed with. On the contrary, of the half-dozen sexual liaisons in my life, all the ladies expressed satisfaction in my abilities; most had asked for return engagements; and some had even sought a more permanent relationship - which I was inclined, at those times, to decline. And yet, I always considered my size, in the dick department, average at best. I've often wondered if size DOES matter, as the old cliché goes, and lamented that I might never really know first hand.

But if beauty really IS in the eye of the beholder, then my member might appear beautiful indeed in Brenda's eye; for I could make her see anything I damn well pleased.

We stopped in front of my house. "I want you to come inside," I told her.

"I don't know," she said demurely, her eyes downcast, her cheeks crimson. "I've had too much to drink. Maybe I should go on back to the dorm."

I stepped back a pace, which left her, for a moment, swaying wobbly on her feet. I extended a hand. "I want to hypnotize you again."

Without a thought, she put her hand in mine, and I led her toward the door. "You don't have to if you don't want," she said lamely. "I mean, I don't want you to feel obligated ...."

I had her inside by then. "Look into my eyes," I ordered sternly, and without the hint of a laugh. It went very quickly. I'm not a bad actor, and I learn my lines without much effort. I was a little concerned about the possibility of her collapsing on the floor in a hypnotic puddle at my feet, but when the spoken order to "surrender and sleep" was given, she swayed a little, and then nestled into my arms, just as she had done with Menlo that afternoon. In no time at all, I had her body sitting on the couch, as she was during our last session, and her mind in her wonderful room. Then, I wasted no time in having her peel back the braided rug and descending into her "soul" below.

"Brenda?"

"Yes, Freddy."

"Brenda, what I am about to tell you will not alter the way things have always been, but you are about to notice a difference in the way things will always be. Does that make sense?"

She wrinkled her brow. "I don't know," she said quietly. "I don't think I understand."

I tried to pick my words carefully. "You have had relationships with people in the past, and you know how you felt about them then, and how you feel about them now. Do you understand that?"

"I guess so."

"But you've never really had a relationship with me before, have you? You don't know how you might react being with me. It might be totally different with me. It may even surprise you. Does that make sense?"

She smiled. "Yes."

"Have you ever kissed a guy for a long time?"

"Yes, when I was a senior in high school, Reggie McPherson took me parking on a lovers' lane near his house. He kissed me and I let him touched me, but I wouldn't let him go too far. He took me parking there twice, but I ended it after that. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stop him from going all the way if I did it again."

"Do you remember the feeling it gave you to have him kiss you? Describe it to me."

"It made me all excited and fluttery inside. I felt pretty and wanted. After awhile, I got dizzy, and that's when I'd let him touch me. I really liked it. I knew I should make him stop, but I didn't want to. It was MYSELF I didn't trust. I mean, he wanted to do it to me, but all guys want that. It would have been my fault if I'd let it go too far. But I got close to letting him. I could hardly control my body. That second time, he blew in my ear, and I almost lost it. I panicked. I made him take me home, and I wouldn't go out with him again."

"Brenda, when you kiss me, you will have that same feeling, only magnified many times. It will be very intense, and you will find that you feel very feminine, just like you feel sitting in front of your vanity in your room. Very excited, very aroused. More so than you've every felt before. You will find that you cannot possibly fight such desires burning inside you. Your body will long to be touched, caressed. You will want to give yourself to me completely, and you will not be able to resist. Your reaction will surprise you, but it will be undeniable. And that reaction will always be the same; you will never get used to it. It will always surprise you in its intensity. Do you understand?"

She was breathing deeply. "Yes."

"Brenda, do you ever touch yourself; sexually, I mean?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about it."

"My roommate is dating this guy pretty heavily, and she's gone a lot of nights, staying with him. When she's gone, I think about you, and I touch myself. I touch my breasts and between my legs. I put my finger inside my ... pussy, and I pretend it's you. I pinch my nipples, and I pretend it's you sucking on them. I don't last long. I come, and then I go to sleep."

"Do you move your body when you do this? Do you make noises?"

"Oh, I couldn't make noises! Somebody might hear! I want to, and sometimes little sounds come out of me, but I can't be too loud, or somebody might hear me. That would be ... more than embarrassing. And the same thing with my body. My bed squeaks, and I can't let my body move too much. Sometimes, when I just can't control myself anymore, I roll over on my tummy, then lift my butt up and spread my legs. That way, I can rub myself really hard, right on my clit, and I pinch my nipple really hard, too. And that always makes me come right away. I bury my face in my pillow so the sounds aren't too loud. At least, I hope they aren't. Sometimes, when I come like that, I go right to sleep, even before I put my nightgown back on. I wake up in the middle of the night, and I remember what I've done, and I hope that I didn't make enough noise for someone to hear."

"Brenda, when I touch you, the feeling of my hands on your skin will be much, much more intense than you ever imagined. It will make you feel even more feminine, and excited and aroused than you ever thought possible. You will want to submit to me. You will want me to do things to you; to do anything I want to you. You will want to feel more and more of the feelings I make you experience. You won't be able to control yourself. Your body will want to move, and you won't be able to stop it. Sounds will want to come out of you, the sounds of love, and you will have no control over them. My hands will make your body move and the sounds come. You will have no control over me, and no control over your body."

She made a noise, deep in her throat. Her hips had begun wriggling in her seat.

"And my mouth, Brenda; the things that I do with my mouth will be even more excruciatingly exciting. Do you understand?"

Her lips had parted. She began breathing hard through her mouth. "Yes! Yes, I understand." A pause. "And you could blow in my ear!"

I couldn't help but laugh at that, but she, of course, didn't notice. "Yes, Brenda. But the most amazing thing of all will be my cock. Have you ever wondered what it looks like?"

"Yes!" she panted.

"But you have no idea how large it is. It will shock you, when you see it. It always will, even when you've seen it over and over again; every time you see it again, its size will surprise you. It will scare you a little, too. At first, you will wonder if you can possibly get it inside you. And after you've seen it many, many times, you will be amazed at your body's ability to accommodate it. Do you understand?"

"Oh, my gosh! Yes, yes, I understand."

"My cock and balls will fascinate you. You will love looking at them. You will be embarrassed, of course, by your perverse desires, but you will long to touch them and caress them, and stroke my cock. You will be amazed at the different ways my cock feels and smells and tastes. And with each new way, you will find that you truly love it. Love the feel and smell and taste. Do you understand, Brenda?"

She whimpered. "Yes."

"You will feel obligated to put my cock in your mouth, to taste it and suck on it."

"Yes! My roommate says that's the only time a woman is REALLY in charge of a man sexually; when she's giving him a blow job. She says that a woman can make her man do anything for a good blow job."

"Ah, yes," I responded. "But you will soon find that you are not like most women. When my cock is in your mouth, you will find yourself very, very excited sexually. You will find control of any kind almost impossible, and you will love that feeling; the feeling of losing control. When my cock is in your mouth, you will imagine it in your pussy, pumping in and out of you, impaling you, forcing you to accept every inch of it deep, deep inside you. You will imagine your mouth, your body, as a sexual implement to be used for my satisfaction; and that will excite you to the point of distraction. You will find that even when I am so deep inside your mouth that I'm pushing against the back of your throat, you will be able to accept it easily; relaxing your throat and swallowing me."

She was making constant little mewling sounds.

"And when it is inside your cunt, you will find that it fills you completely, impossibly. You will feel every long inch of it, rubbing inside you, moving in and out of you, rubbing your clit, stroking every part of your sex. So massively big. Do you know what a 'G – spot' is, Brenda?"

She panted a couple of times. "Yes," she wheezed, trying to catch her breath. "I read about it in a library article, but I don't think I have one. I reached as far inside of myself as I could one night, but I didn't feel anything."

"You can't reach that far up inside of yourself, Brenda. You'll find that out when I put my cock into you really, really deep. When I'm that far up inside of you, so very far up inside of you, you will feel me poking against something, and you will know, deep in your mind, that it must be your G-spot; because it will be so intense, so wonderfully erotic and sensitive, that you won't be able to stop the orgasm that will come. You'll know then, won't you, Brenda?"

"OH GOD, FREDDY!" she moaned.

I said nothing for a long couple of minutes, and watched her slowly calm down again. When her breathing was back to normal, she surprised me with what I thought a slightly rebellious remark.

"But this isn't right. It's for you. The sex is supposed to be for you. I need to repay you for bringing me to my room again. I should be giving YOU pleasure. Mine isn't important."

I gawked at my hypnotic slave. After considering for a minute, I figured, what the heck! "Yes," I said as matter-of-factly as I could, "you're right. You must always try to please me, but unfortunately, your body will betray you. You won't be able to resist, will you? You cannot resist your body, and you must not resist me. You have so little control over things, Brenda. How does that make you feel?"

"It's sort of like being in my room," she answered quietly. I have no control there, and I love it. I think that not having any control when I'm with you might be ... nice." She said no more, and eventually, I made her leave her "soul" and climb back to her room above.

In another minute, she was fully awake.