The Addicted Natural Ch. 02

The following story is for adults only.

Chapter Two – In Her Own Words

(The following is transcribed verbatim from tape. I have added my own observations, as well as my own voice from the transcription, in parentheses.)

(When I returned, she was studying the titles of the books in one of the floor-to-ceiling bookcases. "Here's the tea," I said)

If there was a fire, and you only had enough time to save one of these books, which one would it be?

(The question caught me entirely off guard, but I answered honestly. "This one." I took down the autographed copy of James Thurber's "Carnival" and handed it to her. She'd obviously never seen the book before, thumbed through it for a minute or two and smiled at a couple of the cartoons. The first intimacy between us was a literary one.)

I wanted to talk to you today after class.

("I know. I wanted to talk to you, too." 30-second pause as we sat down and sipped our tea.)

I don't know if you noticed that I dressed a little differently today ... (Pause as she took in my smiling nod). This was the next-to-last class in the course, and I was hoping you'd ask me out. My suite-mates and I had a little too much to drink last night, and ....

("Suite-mates?")

In the dorm. There are four bedrooms around a living area. Eight of us in a suite. Evelyn got a case of beer from a guy she's dating who owns a store. We were drinking and talking, and they were kidding me because I never date anyone. Well, I told them there was this guy in my writing class I was hoping would ask me out, and they sort of turned the whole evening into a "let's dress up Brenda" project. Sue did my hair, the skirt and blouse are from Tommi, Jill lent me one of her bras. You know. (A shrug.) At any rate, this morning they all put on the finishing touches and pushed me out the door.

But before I could get a chance to say hi to you, Bill Thornegate started talking to me, and I didn't know how to end the conversation without seeming rude. Then, after class, James Briggs started talking to me before I could walk over to you. It infuriated me. I couldn't believe it when I saw you walking away! I called after you, but I guess you didn't hear me.

("No, I'm sorry. I didn't. I wish I had.")

Well, I guess I was a little rude with James then. It just made me so mad! I told him no, I didn't want out with him! And then, while I was standing there ready to cry, Bill came back up to me and asked me if I wanted to go get some lunch. I was standing on the steps of the Lit building, looking across the street at the Pink Pig Diner, and I made up a lie. I told him that I already had a lunch date, and I turned my back on him and walked over and right into the diner.

I felt miserable. I didn't know what I was going to tell the other girls, and I knew they were going to give me the third-degree. I really just wanted to be alone, so I walked all the way to the back of the dining area and sat down in a booth facing the wall. I ordered a Diet Coke, and just sat there. But not much more than a few minutes had gone by before HE was there.

He seemed polite enough. He asked if he could sit with me, but before I could respond, he'd slid into the seat opposite me. He had a cup of coffee. He reached his hand across the table to shake, and I just instinctively shook it while he introduced himself. He said he was "Menlo the Great." (Pause as she thought a moment.) Come to think of it, I didn't know his first name until he introduced himself to you here. I longed to tell him that I wanted to be alone, but he never gave me a chance ... he talked constantly, never pausing, unless he'd asked me a question. I felt very uncomfortable at first. I mean, he was a stranger; and he was a lot older than I am. In his thirties, I'd guess.

(I didn't interrupt to tell her that I was in MY thirties.)

He told me he was a professional hypnotist, and I guess I was a little interested in that, despite myself. He talked on a little about his act at the Student Center Theater, and how it was a little unpredictable being on stage with a bunch of college students, because they could be sort of impulsive. He paused then, and I asked him if he'd ever had anyone on his stage he couldn't hypnotize. I think it's what he wanted me to ask, because he seemed to relax then, and he spoke as if he was lecturing a student. I couldn't believe I'd encouraged him to get into a more intimate conversation, when what I really wanted him to do was leave me alone!

He told me that he studied the audience before he went on stage, and he could sort of tell which people would make good subjects. As he said this, he pulled a pocket watch out of his front pocket, and snapped it open and glanced at it. "Great," he said, as he shut it again. "Lots of time before I have to worry about my act. It's great to know you have lots of time." But as he kept talking, instead of putting the watch away again, he just sort of held it loosely in his hands. He likes to gesture a lot, and he'd transfer the watch from one hand to the other, but it stayed pretty much in the same place, just above the table.

He told me that he could easily hypnotize about eighty-percent of the men who came up on his stage; at least, those that weren't actively trying to resist him. Ah, he said; but he could hypnotize 100 percent of the women. He said that he wasn't trying to sound sexist or anything, but women had a different mindset than men, and he claimed that he could "tune in" to their basic emotional needs; that he seemed to be able to sense what he needed to say to put them at ease and get them started down the path toward a deep trance.

As he said this, I tried to keep eye contact with him, but I found I couldn't do it. His eyes ... there's something very ... disturbing about them. His pupils are too big, and too dark. Very black. I felt really uneasy looking at him, so I just let my eyes stay on the watch as he held it. It was very shiny, and it seemed to catch the light perfectly, almost flash from time to time. It had a thin gold chain, but he didn't hold it by the chain. He just sort of held it like it was ... nothing very important. It was just something to be holding while he talked on and on.

He told me that he could especially spot a "Natural." A Natural was a woman who could be placed under hypnotic control very, very easily, and very, very deeply. The thing that made her a Natural was that she was much happier in a hypnotized state than she was awake. He had to take certain precautions, or she literally might never wake up. He'd never met a "Natural" man. He told me that he's looked, but he's only found women with that trait. About one-in-a-thousand, he said. They're rare, and very special.

He told me that the Natural appears to be very intelligent, but that's a little deceiving. She always makes good grades, but she has to work for it. She usually studies very, very hard, and spends long hours in the library and at her desk. I think I nodded at that. I knew just what he meant. I have to study almost all the time to get good grades. Then he went on to say that Naturals are always a little tired because of that. They never really get enough sleep at night. I know what he meant by that, too. I'm tired a lot.

He said: "I use this watch in my act to help my subject focus her attention. That's all she really needs, is just to focus on something like the watch, and that will enable her to begin to relax. She's already tired because she studies so hard, but she never has the opportunity to really, really relax." And I wondered again why he didn't swing the watch on its chain for me, to show me the way he did it in his act, but he didn't really seem to care about the watch; he just kept holding it loosely in his hands, and it just kept flashing. He didn't seem to know it was catching the light and flashing like that. I did understand what he was saying about relaxing, though. It was easy to relax if I focused on the watch.

Then he said: "The most important thing in my act is to let my subject know that there's no hurry about going into a trance, that she really has all the time in the world. Lots of time. No hurry at all. Just like us. Lots of time to relax." I know that that should have rung all sorts of alarm bells in my head, but it didn't. It was just the way he said it. He was so matter-of-fact. He'd already told me he had lots of time. Saying it again just seemed sort of normal.

And he said: "The next step in my induction is to let her realize how tired she really is. She doesn't know, you see. She studies so hard, and she's so tired all the time, that she just sort of keeps on going and going; and until she focuses on something, something like the watch, and she relaxes completely, then it's not until now that she finally realizes how very, very tired she really is. That's when the heaviness comes: the heaviness in her arms. It's not until then that she realizes just how very, very heavy her arms actually are. That's because she's so tired. So very, very tired, that her arms are very, very heavy, and it's really sort of a nice feeling. If it was you, you'd understand that the heaviness is a very pleasant thing. So nice, being heavy. So heavy ...."

(30-second pause. During this time, I was studying her very closely. Her hands had fallen, lifeless, into her lap. She was looking at some imaginary point in space in front of her, off at an angle from me. She was deeply engrossed in her story, but it was not until now that I realized she had been hypnotizing herself. Her mouth was open slightly, and she was utterly relaxed, reliving the moment. I reached out and gently nudged her arm. I spoke almost at a whisper. "Brenda?")

Oh! Oh, I'm sorry!

("Would you like to take a break? We can come back to this later.")

No! Oh, no! Please. I won't do it again. Please let me keep telling you!

("Sure. Take it easy. Take all the time you want. I'll listen. I want to know.")

(Deep breath, almost a sigh)

Anyway, he kept telling me that his Natural, the girl he would hypnotize; her hands and arms would get heavy, pleasantly heavy, and that was when she first realized what she really wanted: just to let go of all her troubles and all her worries and let him help her go into a trance. She was just starting to understand that that's what she needed; needed more than anything else in the world. He just sort of went on and on about that, and I think I let my mind wander a little, because instead of listening then, I began to realize that there was something wrong with my arms. I couldn't move them. My hands were just sort of lying in my lap, and I couldn't even budge them. I wanted to tell him that there was something wrong with me, but I didn't want to interrupt him, because that would be rude.

I was really tired; more tired than I think I've ever been in my whole life. Now, he was talking about how his Natural would be so wonderfully tired, and so wonderfully heavy, and so wonderfully relaxed that she was really past the point of all resistance. The thing she wanted most was just to submit to the wonderful sleep that was coming for her. All she had to do was focus all her attention on the watch and his voice, and sleep would come for her and she could surrender and follow him as he led her into the special place she wanted to be. It was something she wanted more than anything! She wouldn't want to wake up. That's why she had to obey. She had to obey him completely. That way, when he led her to the place she wanted to be more than anything else, he could lead her back. And that made sense to me. Of course he would have to bring her back, and since she didn't want to, she would have to obey him or she would never wake up.

That's when he began telling me that I must look only at the watch, and listen only to his voice; that there was nothing for me except the watch and his voice. And I swear that that was the first time I actually even thought that it was ME he was trying to hypnotize. It was as if the idea was always there, but I'd just been ignoring it. And now it sort of washed over me like a revelation that comes too late. I thought "Oh, my God! He hypnotizing me!" but I didn't know what to do about it. It never even dawned on me that I should look away from him or stop listening to his voice. After all, those were the things he was telling me to DO; and he was telling me to obey him, and somehow I just didn't seem to know that I could do anything else.

And then the strangest thing happened. It was as if a thick fog had rolled into the diner, and it was obscuring everything except the watch. I could see the watch with crystal clarity, but everything else just sort of went away. At the same time, I realized that I couldn't hear anything else in the diner. No voices, no clattering dishes, no clink of silverware, nothing. Total silence, except for his voice. It was so strange, and yet so ... comforting in a way. All I had to do was submit and obey, and I could surrender and follow him to the place I most wanted to go in the whole world. I didn't know where that place was, but suddenly I wanted nothing more than to find it.

He told me to "Surrender and sleep!" and I did. Immediately and completely. Oh God, it was wonderful!

(20-second pause)

I opened my eyes, and I was a little girl, sitting on my mom's lap. The knee of my jeans was torn, and my leg was scraped. I was crying. I knew I was dreaming, but I couldn't, or didn't want to, wake up. She was comforting me, stroking my hair, telling me everything was going to be alright. I snuggled into her chest, sucking my thumb, feeling the softness of her cotton dress, the lumpiness of her bra underneath, the spongy softness of her breast beneath that. I could hear the liquid thumping of her heart. She held me in her arms and told me to go to sleep because I was so tired. And I did.

And then I was grown again and standing on the roof of a building downtown. There were other buildings towering above me, but I knew that I was still pretty high up. The wind was wet and cool, and I began to shiver. I realized that I didn't have any clothes on, and I knew that I had been in such a hurry to leave my room that I'd forgotten to get dressed. That was silly, and again, I knew that I must be dreaming, but I didn't even know which sleep I was dreaming in. Was I just asleep, or was I dreaming that I was asleep, and this dream was a product of that? I couldn't figure it out; so I was suddenly resolved to make the most of this dream and just get through it somehow. There was a terrible storm coming, and I had to get inside. A door in a little structure was sticking up from the roof, so I walked over and opened it. There was a flight of stairs going down, and as soon as I'd gone down a few, I became aware that with each step I took, I was actually, physically, going deeper and deeper into my hypnotic trance. This disturbed me, but there was really nothing else to do. I couldn't stay above in the storm. There was nowhere to go but lower ... and deeper.

When I emerged from the staircase, I found myself in the furniture section of a department store. There was no one else there, and I began to wander around a bit. Then, I saw a man, obviously an employee, walking toward me. I puzzled a little about my predicament, since there was nothing anywhere around that I might use to cover my nakedness. But irrationally, I decided to just walk past him as if there was nothing out of the ordinary. Oddly enough, he didn't seem to notice. After I passed him, I found myself standing in front of an escalator, under a sign that said: "Express Escalator to the Basement." While I was trying to make up my mind what to do, I happened to glance back at the man that I had just passed. He was just standing there, openly leering at me. He had only pretended not to notice me! He was taking in my every feature. He wanted me! I quickly got on the escalator.

Immediately, I realized what I'd done. I was now going deeper and deeper into my state of hypnosis, and this route was going to take me all the way down. I thought for a moment about going back to the furniture department, but that nasty man was up there, and I knew what HE would do to me! I could actually, physically, feel myself going deeper. It was not unpleasant. In fact, I was really enjoying it, but I somehow felt that I shouldn't be. Does that make sense?

All of a sudden, I became aware that the sides of the escalator were made of glass. I could see out, easily viewing the next floor as I descended into what was obviously the women's wear section. The trouble with that was that the people on this floor could also see me! No one seemed to be paying any attention, though, and I was beginning to think that I would escape unnoticed, when an elderly lady looking at blouses happened to glance up and see me. She hated me, I could tell. She thought I was whore, coming into this store in the nude. She thought I was ungodly, and interested only in sex. I wanted to tell her, to explain to her, that I had only forgotten my clothes, that I hadn't done this on purpose; but then I was going deeper, deeper past the women's wear floor, to the floor below.

This was the men's wear level. Three guys were looking at a display of boots, and one looked up and spied me almost immediately. He laughed and pointed, the others following his gaze and gawked at me. I blushed furiously and started walking downward, hoping to end my humiliation quickly. But strangely, inexplicably, my breasts seemed to bounce and jiggle much more than they normally would. I stopped, and their wobbling motion finally settled and they became still. I was mortified. Before I descended below this level, I couldn't help but look back at the men. The "pointer" was laughing hysterically, using his hands to emulate my jiggling breasts, as one of his buddies laughed along and stared at me. The third one, though, wasn't laughing at all. He was leering. The way he looked at me left little doubt: he wanted me! Wanted to take me sexually; wanted to do things to me I didn't even know about. I shivered. It excited me, and that made me more ashamed than ever.

On the next floor, Winter Wear, a woman with a very short haircut was looking at black leather jackets. She also looked at me, curiously at first, but then she increasingly acquired the gaze of the man above. She wanted me, too. Sexually. I couldn't take much more of this. With a sense of self-disgust, I realized that I was very wet between my legs.

And finally, it was over. The escalator ended, and I stepped off. I was as deep as I could go, both in this building, and in my hypnotic state. I was a little awed. I didn't know what to expect. I was at one end of a long hallway, but it was poorly lit, and I couldn't see the other end. There were doors to either side, and they all seemed to have writing on them. Cautiously, I approached the one nearest me on my right, and saw the name "Jennifer" written on it. Below the name, in flowing script, the words "Submit and Obey" were literally etched into the hard wood of the door. I couldn't make any sense of it. Tentatively, I tried the knob. The door was securely locked. On the opposite side of the hall, there was a door with the name "Suzy" and the same etched inscription, also locked.

Slowly, I walked down the hall, looking carefully at the doors on either side. Betty, Wanda, Nancy, Dawn, Rhoda; the names just went on and on, and below each name, the same words were etched into the wood. And suddenly it became very clear to me. These were the Naturals. Menlo's Naturals. Each had been given her own room here in his "Hall of Conquests." Somehow, I knew that each one of them had given herself to him, not just hypnotically, but sexually as well. For the first time, I knew that I was going to join them. I was going to become the latest in this long, long line of girls who would give themselves to him.