The Addicted Natural Ch. 04

"And now," I told her, gently pushing her head back down to my chest, "I want you to listen to my heart, and with every beat, you are going to relax more and more."

In two minutes, she was asleep.

The digital clock read 8:35 when I was awakened from an erotic dream. It wasn't all a dream, I learned, as I looked down and realized I was having my cocked sucked in a most pleasant manner. I stretched and muttered a groggy "Good morning," but she must have figured it was impolite to answer with her mouth full.

Once again, I decided to deny her the satisfaction of culminating the session orally, and forced her to lie back down beside me while I became reacquainted with HER body, as well. Just as it had been last night, she was soon in a very distracted state of mind, gripping my head as I suckled her breasts, her hips arching up against my hand and invading fingers. I paused long enough to clump our pillows together in the middle of the bed and ordered her on her knees, bent over against the pillows, while I positioned myself behind her. I fed my swollen cock into her cunt slowly as she groaned and writhed and eventually pushed back against me. Almost as soon as I was fully buried in her, she started making her "coming noises" and I was forced to hold her hips firmly to maintain control. Her cunt gripped me spasmodically, and I fought to stave off my own orgasm for awhile longer. Eventually, she stopped bucking, but as I set up a rhythm, she continued to spasm from time to time, and finally I simple couldn't take it any longer. I leaned forward and grasped her left breast hard while using my right hand on her clit, forcing her to come with me. I swear I could feel her cunt sucking me. I don't think I've ever come so hard.

We collapsed in a heap in the center of the bed and just held each other until our breathing returned to normal. "I didn't even know you could DO it like that," she said in a quiet, husky voice. "I couldn't even move! I felt so ... so ... helpless. I felt ... used." I was thinking about this, trying to come up with some sort of apology, when she shivered a little and sighed loudly. "It was ... wonderful!"

Then I decided it was time to get up and get on with our day. In the bathroom, I found a new, wrapped toothbrush for her. Showering together was more of a challenge than I had anticipated. I really enjoyed soaping her supple young body, but every time I caressed her, she seemed to lose all semblance of concentration and began a gradual transition to full arousal. There was no way I would be able to perform again so soon after our intense morning exercises, so I left her to finish rinsing herself and started getting dressed.

She asked if she could wear one of my shirts while she used my washing machine to clean the clothes she'd worn the day before, and I told her to go into my closet and pick one. She was overjoyed by this prospect, and chose one of my dress shirts, rolling up the sleeves to her elbows. The shirttail covered her, but barely, and her legs were displayed to perfection. She was quite a sight, even in the large glasses, which she had retrieved from her purse, but I couldn't help but notice as I finished preparing the coffee and oatmeal that as she came in and sat down at the kitchen table she was moving a bit oddly.

"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned.

She blushed beautifully. "I'm a little sore," she said meekly. "You don't realize how ... how ... big you are."

This was yet another new wrinkle. I hadn't said anything about soreness in my hypnotic induction. Was it possible I really WAS too big for her? Suddenly, I wasn't sure where the line between fantasy and reality was myself. "I'm sorry I hurt you," I said sincerely.

"Oh, no, I like it!" she blurted, then looked down and blushed even more. "I mean, it reminds me of ... what happened. I can't move without thinking about it. It doesn't hurt too much, and I think it's ... kind of nice."

I opened the kitchen door to let in the warm spring morning air, then set the bowls of oatmeal on the table.

"Eat up," I told her. "My Saturday routine always includes a study session in the park, weather permitting. I have a lot to do."

"Not me," she announced, and when I looked up questioningly, she said: "I'm a graduating senior. I don't have to take finals next week. I'm free!"

"Oh no you're not," I told her sternly, and snatched a yellow legal pad off the counter and tossed it to her. It contained my notes from the interview with the Indian lady yesterday. I quickly summarized the story for her. "It's yours," I told her. "You write it, I'll edit it. I'll show you how to sell it to a major, and we'll split the by-line and the fee." She acted as if I'd given her a pot of gold. She was immensely excited, and started asking dozens of questions, all of them intelligent and pertinent. She wanted a follow-up interview and some time to do some research on-line.

And then in mid-sentence, she froze. She was looking past me, toward the screen door, and she had such a look of absolute horror on her face that I had a pretty good idea what I was going to see even before I turned around and looked for myself.

Re-enter the antagonist, stage right.

He was standing at the screen door, looking in and smiling broadly. "Good morning, Professor!" he said cheerily, then glanced at my dining companion and nodded. "Good morning, Brenda."

"What do you want, Menlo?" I asked icily, keeping my seat.

"I have another little gift for you, Professor. A peace offering. Do you mind if I come in?"

"I'm not a professor," I told him flatly.

He shrugged. "Semantics! You get your PhD in two weeks, and in three, you'll be an esteemed member of the faculty of this prestigious university."

I regarded him curiously. "Who have you been talking to?"

"You should have come to my show last night," he said expansively. "I do believe it was one of my best performances ever! I had the audience eating out of my hand. One of the highlights was when I entranced a lovely lady by the name of Wanda Wilkinson."

I tried to suppress a grin and failed. "You hypnotized Dean Wilkinson?"

"Yes, an excellent subject. I persuaded her, and her husband, as well, to come backstage after the performance, and we all had a little chat." He paused for effect. "Why, did you know that the Dean is prepared to pay you ten thousand dollars a year over and above what she is now offering in the contract you're about to sign?"

I regarded him even more suspiciously. "What did you do to her?"

He crossed his heart with his fingers. "Not a thing, I assure you. Well .... I DID make a couple small suggestions about her sex life (her husband was a very good subject, as well). I think they'll both be more, shall we say, contented with their home life in the future. But as far as your salary is concerned, that was just something I happened to learn. It's already in her budget. She's hoping you won't ask for it. She's planning to use it for a new desk and drapes in her office; but she's willing to pay if you demand it. There's a rumor that a college downstate has already made you an offer."

Well, that was true. "The bitch!" I said under my breath.

"Truce?" asked Menlo.

I turned and looked at Brenda. She was watching him the way a mouse watches a snake.

"Okay," I said. "Come in and tell us what's on your mind."

He opened the door, smiled broadly, and took a seat to my right, opposite Brenda. "I really just stopped by to give you another little gift," he said happily. He fished around in his jacket pocket for a moment, and came out holding something in his closed fist. He held the fist out, over the table for a long moment, letting the suspense build dramatically, then opened his hand and let the small gold pocket watch fall. He retained the end of the gold chain in his fingers, and when the watch fell to within a few inches of the table top, it bounced and swung crazily on the chain.

To my left, Brenda gave a sudden gasp, and I turned and watched her in awe. Her eyes were wide and fixed on the watch as it danced on its chain. Slowly, she turned her head almost 90-degrees to the right, then back to the left, but her eyes wouldn't, or couldn't, leave the small golden timepiece. Finally, she faced straight ahead, but her head jerked slowly from side to side in a negative gesture. Her lips were parted slightly, and they formed the word "no," but no sound came out. She was definitely frightened.

As I turned back to tell Menlo to cease and desist, he gave the chain a little tug and captured the watch, chain and all, in his hand again. Immediately, there was a scraping noise and a crash as Brenda stood up so suddenly that her chair fell over backwards. Then she sprinted out of the kitchen and into the living room. I looked at Menlo sternly.

"What the hell ...?"

"My gift to you," he said, holding the watch out to me. Dumbly, I took it.

Suddenly, he arose and walked over to the counter. "Coffee smells good," he said. "Mind if I have some?"

I stared at him in open-mouthed amazement. What a pompous ass!

He opened a cupboard. "Cups in here?" he asked, glancing at me, and when he realized that all he was going to get in reply was astonished indignation, he opened it. "Hmm, guess not." He shut it and opened another. "Ah, here they are." He took out a cup and poured himself some coffee, then sat back down facing me.

"Professor," he said, "we need to talk." He sipped the coffee for a moment, then glanced up at me. He must have seen a little of the same anger he'd witnessed yesterday, for he suddenly assumed a startled air and put up a protesting hand. "Whoa, now! Don't start thinking those murderous thoughts! I'm on your side!"

"MY side?"

"Well, okay then, Brenda's side. You've obviously figured out a lot of things since I ... uh ... was forced to take my leave of you yesterday. I can see that you've figured out how to hypnotize her. Otherwise, she'd have shown up at my act last night. You've probably learned a lot of my little tricks. But there are some things I need to tell you. About Brenda, I mean. About the watch."

I looked at the shiny timepiece in my palm. "What about Brenda?"

"Well, if you haven't guessed by now, it's not the hypnosis she's addicted to at all. It's the act of emotional surrender. It can be extremely intoxicating to some women, and your girl certainly falls into the category. I know the type very well. Believe me, if you don't maintain your current intervention, Brenda will soon be just another battered woman in just another abusive marriage. She lives to be dominated, and frankly, it amazes me that she's been able to evade it this long. She seems to have done it through sheer intellect.

"For her, hypnosis was simply a gateway to total emotional abandonment. Watch her closely the next time you put her under. When you order her to 'surrender,' that's when it happens: an almost physical rush. She lives for it. She craves it. And subconsciously, her total obedience is the small price she happily pays for it.

"Now, the watch is a little different. I've programmed her to fight the watch. She is allowed to ... no, she is FORCED to struggle against the oncoming loss of control, even though it's exactly what she subconsciously desires the most. She will fight the watch, but the battle is lost even before it begins. She will know that, but will still struggle. Each command -- to become heavy, to become sleepy – will be a little defeat leading up to the moment you command her to surrender and sleep. And the loss of control when the watch is involved will be infinitely sweet to her, simply because it is so utterly overwhelming." He was silent then, letting the instructions sink in, calmly sipping his coffee.

"Why do you do this, Menlo?" I asked, unable to silence my growing morbid fascination.

He shrugged. "I'm a romantic," he answered matter-of-factly. "I worry about my girls."

I was unable to stifle my look of disbelief. "WHAT?"

He raised his right hand again. "As God is my witness," he swore. "I'm surprised that a man of letters wouldn't see the poetry of it; the humanity of it." Again, my expression put him on the defensive. "Look," he continued, "I'm not such a bad guy." (Ah, justification, I thought. Robbers, murderers, rapists, assholes; they all consider themselves justified.) "Okay, so I need a little companionship sometimes, but I always leave my girls better than when I found them. I help them find happiness. A lot of time, I help them find true love! Brenda has! The girl's gaga over you. And you've got to admit, you're pretty hung up on her, too. Right? And now, she's all yours: body and soul. She belongs to you. She WANTS to belong to you. But I had to make sure you were okay with this. I'm responsible." He shrugged and repeated a mumbled "I had to make sure."

A rapist with a conscience. "There's got to be more to it than that," I said, accusingly.

"Well, for awhile there, I thought she'd make a good third. I was wrong."

"Third?"

"It's a long story."

"Give me the short course."

He gave a little grin. God, he loved an audience.

"Well," he began, "I discovered pretty early-on that I could get a lot of dames through hypnosis. I started when I was in college, and by the time I was a senior, I was using various lines and techniques to get girls to ask me to put them under. They expected sex to be a part of it, and I certainly didn't do anything to discourage that aspect.

"I've wanted to be in the theater for as long as I can remember. Only one small problem with that: I can't act. I tried out for every play in high school and college, but the best part I could land was 'assistant lighting director.' When I saw a professional hypnotist for the first time, I suddenly knew my calling. I dropped out of school, went on the road with three different pro's, learned their techniques, all the angles, all the jokes. Out east, if you've got an act, your first real shot is in the Catskills. Lots of acts, lots of agents looking for fresh talent. But the money's shitty. It was really rough. And to make matters worse, I fell in love with a hooker.

"Jennifer was working as a stripper in a joint across town from the nightclub I was appearing in three nights a week. God, she was gorgeous! A body that wouldn't quit. A lot of the girls hooked on the side. I saved up my pennies and hired her for an hour. She had a "look" about her. Hard to describe, exactly, but I'd seen it in several girls I'd hypnotized and bedded in college. Sort of a lost, hungry look, and she was almost painfully shy. There were other signs as well, but they all combined to give me the feeling that I'd have no problem hypnotizing her. And in 15 minutes, I had. Best fifty dollars I've ever spent, even if we didn't have sex. By the end of the hour, I'd taken her deeper than I'd ever taken any other woman. She met me later that night, when we more than made up for the lost fifty bucks, and she practically begged me to put her under again. She was my first Natural. Within a week, under my 'supervision,' she'd quit her job and started waitressing. We got married, and let me tell you, times were tough.

"I did a couple hypnosis jobs on the side: you know, weight loss, kicking smoking, that sort of thing. A couple years ago, I helped a CPA with a bad case of stage freight who had to give a presentation, and as partial payment he set me up for a financial planning session with one of the firm's junior partners. Well, Miss Junior Partner turned out to be Suzy, who I immediately realized had all of the telltale little traits that Jennifer did that put her into the "Prospective Natural" category. Our planning session took place after normal working hours, and she looked pretty stressed. It didn't take me long at all to help her relax; and I mean REALLY relax. She went under just like Jennifer had. But unlike Jennifer, Suzy was rich. She was the only daughter of a wealth businessman who had died a few years before and she'd received a third of the estate (along with papa's wives numbers one and two). Well, with a few repeat "planning sessions," Suzy discovered that she was madly in love me. Jennifer and I moved into her sizable home in the Pokonos, and I was suddenly very well off. With some extra-deep inductions, I was able to alter both ladies' proclivities to the point that they enjoyed each other's sexual attentions almost as much as they enjoyed mine.

"And that, at last, brings me to the concept of a 'third.' I like my sex better one-on-one. As I travel around with my act, I'm always on the lookout for another Natural to add to my little harem. That way, when I pick one girl to sleep with, the other two will be able to keep each other company."

He got up, walked to the sink, and started rinsing out his coffee cup. "But I haven't been able to find the right one yet. When I do spot a Natural, she's either already involved with someone, or she's just not ... right." He put the cup in the dish drainer beside the sink. "Still, I'm having a great time allowing those that I find to 'try out,' if you know what I mean." He turned to face me. "Brenda had all the qualifications, but she's too ... cerebral. I don't like dames that are smarter 'n me."

He turned and walked to the door. "Well, professor, have a nice life. Oh, and about the watch; I wouldn't use it often; a couple times a week, maybe. Use it as a reward ... or as a punishment. It will only draw her closer to you." And with a wave, he was gone.

Exit the antagonist, forever.

I sat there for another couple minutes, thinking about him. I still honestly loathed the guy, but I consoled myself in two ways. One, he was out of my life now, and more importantly, out of Brenda's. And secondly, I was not like him. I would never be like him. I made it a silent vow, then stood slowly, put the watch in my pocket, and walked into the living room.

Brenda was on the couch, leaning against one of its arms, her feet drawn up in front of her, her arms wrapped around her knees, shivering and looking miserable. As soon as she saw me, she leapt up and threw herself into my arms.

"Is he gone?" she asked, her face buried in my chest.

"Yes."

There was a long pause. "Did he really give you the watch?"

"Yes."

An even longer pause. "Freddy?"

"Yes?"

"He said he was giving you ANOTHER gift. That means he's given you one already." She waited to see if I would respond. I didn't. "The first gift, the one he gave you before; it was me, wasn't it? He gave you me!"

It was my turn to pause. "Yes."

"When he told me that story yesterday, the story about the Natural he gave away .... I couldn't help but wonder if that was going to happen to me. I thought ... I thought that if he gave me to somebody ... I hoped ... I wished ... that it would be you."

I just held her. Finally, I said: "Come on, let's get going. You get dressed and make us a picnic lunch while I get my notes together."

She didn't move from my arms.

"Freddy?"

"Yes?"

"Are you still going to hypnotize me after we have lunch in the park?"

"Yes."

She looked up at me with those big green eyes of hers. "Will you use the watch?" she begged. "Please?"