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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Rajah Dodger Copyright (c) 2000, 2003. All rights
reserved, except that electronic not-for-profit
reproduction rights only are explicitly granted with
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Under The Bell Curve
by Rajah Dodger (rdodger@hotmail.com)
***
A college student finds out his girlfriend is
susceptible to hypnotism; things work both better and
worse than he expects. (MF, mc, college)
***
I was taking Peg to Rita's Roadhouse for dinner. Peg
was my date for about the fourth or fifth time this
semester, and we'd had some pretty good times --
movies, concerts, that sort of thing. She was a chatty
and ebullient brunette, and filled out a sweater
nicely. The most adventurous I'd gotten with her was
bringing her to the fraternity house for pick-a-pledge
night, but that turned out to be a bad call on my part.
Obnoxious frat boy antics weren't her cup of tea, and
one of the gang spilled his bourbon punch on her skirt.
(Her roommate, Janine, was even less thrilled -- it was
her skirt. I wound up paying the dry-cleaning bill.)
Still, Peg didn't quit seeing me, and she did give
great hug. Best of all, she wasn't bored when I talked
about my classes. That's a marvel, because usually when
I tell people I'm in statistics their eyes glaze over.
We were waiting at a stoplight and I was lovingly
describing the finer points of avoiding alpha and beta
errors using two-tail tests. Peg was doing her best to
appear interested when suddenly she stiffened and
shivered all over. I looked at her, concerned, and
asked if she was all right. "Yes," she said, but her
voice was colorless, without a hint of her usual
animation. I continued, asking her what just happened,
and her answer blew me away:
"I hear and obey my command phrase, Teacher. I wait for
instruction."
Command phrase? This was too weird for words. I looked
around for a TV show camera crew, but all I saw was the
guy behind me waiting impatiently for me to move since
the light had changed. I pulled through the
intersection and found a convenient place to park. Then
I bit my lip, took a deep breath and tried a question.
"Tell me your command phrase, Peg."
"You told me *high chi-square*, Teacher. I wait for
instruction."
This was getting weirder and weirder. I wondered if she
was pulling my leg, but she'd never shown any
inclination to practical jokes. I had this sudden flash
of the computer at the end of the movie 2001, singing
Bicycle Built for Two. Well, if Peg were really under
some kind of hypnotic programming, then she should
follow orders. Like any good scientist, I had to test
my hypothesis.
"Lift your left hand, Margaret."
It was spooky -- she raised her left hand and held it
in the air near the dashboard. I bit my lip, tossed
around the odds -- like I said, I know statistics --
and put my hand on her leg.
She didn't move -- didn't even blink an eye. I slid my
hand up her leg to the edge of her panties. Still no
response. I had to take a minute to get my own
reactions under control. I cupped my hand over the
front of her panties; her thighs were warm to the touch
and I could feel the rustling of pubic hair under the
fabric, but Peg didn't do anything.
Well, in for a nickel, in for a dollar. I lifted my
hand and cupped her breast. Wow. It felt soft and
heavy, and when I rubbed my thumb over it I could feel
her nipple harden. Peg didn't even blink.
I yanked my hand back like it was burnt. Now I was
really freaked out. I told her to lower her hand, and
when it was safely in her lap again I did the mental
equivalent of howling at the moon while cowering in
fright. Here I was on a public street, with my date
sitting obediently just waiting for me to tell her what
to do. It would have been a wet dream come true if I'd
had any idea how far the control went, or how to shut
it off... or the real kicker, where it had come from in
the first place.
Peg was still sitting quietly next to me. I decided to
try a shot in the dark. "Margaret," using my most
formal voice, "repeat your commands for me."
"Yes, Teacher," she said in a very subdued un-Peglike
voice. "My master trigger, when You are with me in
person, is 'High chi-square'; if You wish to command me
over the phone the full trigger is 'Insignificant
results cannot have a high chi-square'. When You wish
to release me the clear phrase is 'Normal Curve, Peg'."
It was summertime, but I was deathly cold in that car.
I'd thought of a couple of possible pitfalls in this.
Not the least was that I was definitely not the "You"
who had given Peg these commands in person. And if she
thought I was that "You" then there wouldn't be any way
to find out who the real one was. "And your memory,
Margaret? What happens to your memory when the clear
phrase is used?"
She responded in the same spooky voice, "I remember
only what you have told me to remember, Teacher."
I paused before the next question. "And you will follow
all of my orders, Margaret?"
I thought I saw her flinch, but it may have been just
the flickering of the outside street lights. "I hear
and obey, Teacher. I am Your good student."
Whoever had done this seemed to have all of the bases
covered. I didn't believe it. Not for one minute. But I
couldn't resist the urge to find out. We were supposed
to be going to the Roadhouse, but it was too likely
we'd run into someone who knew Peg there. Instead I
drove to a little Italian place on the other side of
downtown. I'd been there before, and remembered the
food was reasonably priced and the lighting was
conveniently low. While I drove, I reminded Peg to use
her normal tone of voice and asked her if she liked
Italian food.
Her response was less than helpful, "Whatever you
serve, Teacher, I will eat."
I could see there were some rough edges on this
hypnosis thing. I hoped one of them didn't reach back
and bite my head off. I instructed Peg that after we
were seated at the restaurant she was to go to the
restroom, remove her panties and bring them back to me.
Also, as an afterthought, that I could touch her
anywhere without complaint. That seemed like a good
test.
We parked the car and I cleared my throat before saying
"Normal Curve, Peg". She shook her head and looked
confused for a second, then looked around. "Chet,
weren't we going to the Roadhouse?" she asked. I let
out a breath I didn't know I was holding, and answered
her. "Well, I thought I was getting too predictable
with that, and I hear this place is great for Italian."
When we entered the restaurant, I asked for one of the
booths and the waitress found us a nice spot somewhat
secluded from the general customer traffic. We sat down
and ordered drinks; I had a ginger ale, Peg asked for a
daiquiri. As soon as the waitress left, Peg excused
herself to go to the ladies room.
I waited, nervously twiddling my thumbs while the
waitress brought our drinks and left again. I did have
enough presence of mind to pull out a pen, write down
the control phrases and stick them in my wallet. After
what seemed like a long time, I saw Peg coming back
through the restaurant -- with something clutched in
her hand. I stood up and let her slide into the booth,
and she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek before
sitting down next to me. "Sorry it took so long, Chet,
you know how we women are," she said pleasantly.
As she spoke, she opened her purse and without looking
at it pulled out a pair of powder-blue panties and put
them in my hand. "So," she continued, "did you at least
get a good grade from your professor on that project?"
I slid the panties into my pocket, trying hard to keep
a normal look on my face. It was like her hand and her
head weren't connected. "Yes, though he still counted
off for our not having been specific about how we
computed the degrees of freedom." I put my hand on her
leg, but her eyes never left mine. "I wouldn't be
surprised if a lot of the class doesn't drop the course
after that stunt, though. What about your week?"
Peg lifted her drink to her lips and responded. "Oh,
nothing special. Really, the hardest part of my week
was helping Janine get through her first major report.
I guess they don't teach writing skills in the big city
the way they did at home." If I didn't know how much
Peg liked her roommate, I'd have thought she was being
snide. While she spoke, I slid my hand far enough up
her leg to be sure she had no panties on. Wow! Here I
was with my hand between Peg's thighs and she was
calmly sipping her daiquiri and talking about her
roommate as if nothing was happening. Well, maybe
nothing was happening in her mind, but I had a hard-on
that wouldn't quit.
About then the waitress came back and I had to get my
hands back above the table to handle the menu and order
dinner for us. When the waitress left, I skimmed my
hand back up Peg's leg until my fingers were resting
comfortably in her pubic hair. She continued to talk
about her week, and I managed to divide my attention
between my activities above and below the table. When I
rocked my hand from side to side, she responded by
opening her legs. That gave me enough access to stroke
her labia, which quickly got tangibly wet.
That finally drew the first obvious response from her.
"So with the concert coming up --" She broke off what
she was saying, and her eyes got big, then she closed
them and took a deep breath. I licked my lips, but then
I got this mental image of Meg Ryan from When Harry Met
Sally -- the scene where she fakes an orgasm in the
restaurant. I didn't know if Peg was a screamer, and
this wasn't a good place to find out.
Anyway, I'd pretty much proved that the control on her
was real, so I took my hand back, wiped it on my napkin
and lowered her skirt where it had gotten pushed up.
When I was satisfied everything looked normal, I
triggered her, told her not to notice the absence of
her panties for the rest of the evening, then said
"Normal Curve, Peg" and mentally held my breath.
She blinked, twice, and her first comment was "I wonder
why the food's taking so long?" From that point until
dinner was over I looked at everything she said or did
for double meanings, but there weren't any. As far as
anyone could tell, we were just a couple of college
kids having a friendly dinner together. And that's just
what we had. The rest of our dinner was like any of our
other dates, except that I had a pair of blue panties
in my pocket and an erection that wouldn't go down.
We both had early classes the next day, so I took her
back to her apartment and she invited me as far as her
living room. I thanked her for a good time and opened
my arms for a hug and kiss. The kiss was okay -- a warm
peck on the lips, and the hug was her usual full-body
approach. I noticed that she smelled spicy, like new-
mown grass. If she noticed my erection, she certainly
didn't do anything to encourage it and I didn't feel
like pressing my luck. Besides, Janine was studying in
her room, and I wasn't up to trying to deal with two
girls at once.
I went home, jacked off, and spent half of the night
thinking about Peg instead of studying for my English
Lit exam. Getting into her pants this way seemed like
cheating -- but I decided since I wasn't making any
headway otherwise I might as well go for it.
***
Peg had a wind ensemble concert coming up and the
clarinet section had a lot of evening rehearsals
scheduled, so I spent the better part of the next two
weeks in the library reading about hypnosis. We set a
movie date for the Saturday after the concert. I wanted
to call her in the meantime and do some more tests on
her control, but I also wanted to be around her in case
something went wrong. I finally came up with an idea I
thought was workable, then spent three days working on
how to phrase it correctly.
Wednesday night I called Peg, ostensibly to wish her
luck. While we were on the phone, I gave her the
trigger phrase and told her this: "Margaret, tomorrow
night at the concert you will feel every note of the
music passing through your body, from the tips of your
wiggling toes to the points of your nipples. Although
you will become more and more aroused as the concert
progresses, you will not come, nor will you touch
yourself in order to increase or relieve your arousal.
After the concert, you will wait for me backstage and
when I give you a hug you may finally come, but may not
make a sound while doing so."
I had her repeat the instructions, blew her a kiss,
remembered to say "Normal Curve, Peg" and hung up.
The next night I dressed up and went to the concert.
Wind instruments aren't my favorite, but the music was
okay, and Peg looked good in her black concert skirt
and white silk blouse. I looked carefully as the
concert dragged on, but I couldn't tell whether she was
showing any effects from my suggestion.
When the concert ended, I waited a few minutes then
wandered around back stage. I looked around the crowd
until I spotted Peg, sitting by the punchbowl. Her face
was flushed and she kept rubbing her hands up and down
nervously over her knees. That looked promising, and I
came up on her from behind, tapped her on the shoulder
and said "Nice concert, Peg."
She turned around with a gasp, wrapped her arms around
me and hugged me hard enough to break some ribs and so
close that her crotch was rubbing up against mine. "Oh,
Chet, I'm so glad you came!" If she wasn't careful with
the way she was hugging me, that was going to have a
double meaning. As I put my arms around her, she
suddenly shuddered all over, buried her face in my
shoulder and pasted herself all over me. I stroked her
back gently as the scent of her hair surrounded me, and
focused on not coming in my own pants.
Eventually her spasms passed, and she stood up shakily
a few inches away from me. "I'm sorry," she mumbled in
obvious embarrassment, "I guess I've just been working
so hard for this concert. Would you like to come over
and visit for a while?" I had figured to wait for our
movie date to go further with her, but she sounded so
sexy and vulnerable that I couldn't turn her down.
"Sure thing, hon," I said. "Are you okay driving or do
you want a lift?"
"I'll be okay, but thanks for asking. I guess the music
really got to me tonight." She kissed me, quickly but
forcefully, and headed off toward the parking lot. I
gave her a ten-minute head start, and then went to get
my car.
***
When I got to Peg's place, her roommate Janine was
there. I didn't really want her around, but I didn't
want to seem rude in front of Peg. Peg gave me a quick
but very enthusiastic hug, then went to fix a round of
drinks while I sat on the sofa. There was some kind of
drumming CD playing -- tribal chants, grunting, that
sort of thing. Not my taste, but the rhythms certainly
got the blood flowing. When Peg got back with the
drinks, I looked around and realized Janine was
missing. "Hey, where'd your roommate go?" I asked.
Peg sat on the sofa next to me, saying "Oh, she had big
plans tonight, Chet, you must have missed seeing her
leave. I think she's going to some kind of all-night
rave." I mentally shrugged my shoulders; my opportunity
was finally here. I watched Peg as she sipped her
drink; she was moving sexily and unconsciously to the
tom-tom rhythm of the drums. I took another sip myself
and triggered her. "*High chi-square*, Margaret."
She stopped moving, and shivered all over for just a
second. I decided I wanted her undressed, and it seemed
like the words were barely out of my mouth before she
had put her drink down and started to unbutton her
blouse, uncovering her well-filled white bra. In no
time she had shimmied out of her skirt leaving her g-
string on, and was sliding the bra cups down showing me
that her nipples were perked up already. She came up to
the sofa and started unbuttoning my dress shirt... did
I ask her to do that? Maybe I wasn't specific when I
told her to undress.
Anyway it was hard to concentrate between her full
breasts brushing against my face and the blood-stirring
drumming from the stereo. "Shoes..." I mumbled, and Peg
was already kneeling on the floor taking off my shoes
and socks, rubbing each of my feet between her breasts,
then running her hands lightly up between my legs to
lift and fondle my balls. Wait... what happened to my
pants? Who cared when her tongue was painting hot lines
up and down the shaft of my cock.
"Maybe you'd feel more comfortable lying on the sofa
instead of sitting up," she suggested. That sounded
like a good idea, and I shifted positions with one leg
on the sofa and one dangling off to give her hand more
room to wander under my balls. She turned around and
straddled my face, saying "I've been so hot for you
since the concert, Chet, see what you did to me?"
Her labia were all puffy, and her vaginal petals were
dark red and flared out. I wondered what they tasted
like, so I stuck out my tongue. She shivered all over
again and settled down pressing herself to my face. She
was oily and kind of tart, but not unpleasant. She was
doing nice things to my cock, playing with it,
occasionally taking the head in her mouth, and I
explored her with my tongue until she ground herself
down hard on my face and shook all over.
She must have been using some kind of scented body wash
-- I recognized the same perfume from the concert, but
the drinks must have gotten to me because everything
after that was a haze.
My aching balls when I woke up the next morning weren't
hazy at all; I had to walk bowlegged to the shower.
Hypnosis was obviously great stuff, but I really needed
to watch my liquor. As I was getting my books ready for
class, I saw a note on my calendar about having dinner
Saturday with Peg and Janine. I scratched my head,
wondering why Peg had changed our plans from going to
the movies. I was disappointed, since I really wanted
to see how far this control thing went -- and the next
time I'd be sure not to drink too much.
***
Classes Friday were hell, not from the subject matter
but from the erection that refused to die. My mind kept
wandering from the professor's voice to the picture of
Peg straddling my face, and only luck kept me from
having to answer any direct questions. I had dinner at
the fraternity house for a change; the jokes about who
had and hadn't gotten any rang hollow now, but I didn't
see any reason to let the guys know that boring Chet
was now one of the lucky ones. Saturday was almost as
bad; I did my laundry and worked on my computer lab
project, but alternated between wishing I was with Peg
and wishing Janine would be anywhere else.
Saturday evening at 7:30 found me at Peg and Janine's
door, a small spray of flowers in my hand. Janine
opened the door, and if she noticed my momentary
disappointment at not seeing Peg she chose not to
comment on it. "Why Chet, how sweet of you!" she said
as she took the flowers and held the door for me. "I'll
put these into a vase -- why don't you go into the
living room, I think Peg wanted to talk to you before
dinner."
When I entered the living room, Peg rose from the sofa
and came over to give me one of her patented
enthusiastic full-body hugs. I wished that I'd been
able to put her under control so that I'd feel safe
squeezing her bottom; as it was, I let my hand lie at
the base of her spine and she didn't complain at all.
She was wearing that spicy perfume again, I noticed.
"Chet, I've been waiting for you all day," she bubbled,
"I've got a little something I want to show you before
we eat. It's kind of a surprise!"
She ushered me to the sofa and plopped down on my right
side; to my surprise, Janine joined us and sat on my
left while handing me a glass of iced tea. Peg grabbed
the TV remote from the coffee table and flipped it on.
I was shocked to see it was some kind of amateur adult
video, with a naked girl's back to the camera as she
knelt in front of a guy on a sofa, unbuttoning his
shirt and pulling his pants down before giving him one
whale of a blowjob. You could tell by the look on his
face... wait a minute...
I started to jump up from the sofa as I realized that
was *my* face, as I watched my sweet Peg swing herself
up and spread her legs over my face on the TV screen,
one hand on my cock as I eagerly licked her out. But
Janine held me on the left side, Peg held me on the
right, and when Peg's hand fluttered down over my
crotch I realized that this could be a very good
surprise after all. Besides, I wanted to see what had
happened after my own memory of that night gave out.
On the television, Peg got off the sofa, turned around
with her bottom facing the camera, and kissed me, a
long wet deep kiss that I could feel even off the tape.
She wiggled her bottom at the camera; you could see the
moisture on her pussy lips between her parted legs. She
sat up on my stomach, her breasts swinging with the
rhythm of the drums, and slid sinuously down to my
crotch where she proceeded to maneuver herself up and
down on the videotaped erection. I must have been
really into it, my body on the sofa was writhing and
humping beneath her and the sofa was squeaking like
crazy, although for some reason I wasn't saying
anything.
Peg came again, bouncing up and down on my cock like a
pile-driver, and grunting out "Oh Yes, Oh YES, OHHH
YEAAHHHH!"
The television screen was one thing; real life was
something else again. Both girls had their hands in my
lap, one or the other had unzipped me while my eyes
were glued to the screen, my legs were spread out over
each of the girls' legs. Their hands were busy inside
my shorts, and my cock was threatening to burst. I
almost did lose it when I watched Peg on the TV screen
climb off me. My video erection was standing straight
up, larger than I'd ever seen it and colored a
dangerous dark red.
On the screen, Peg giggled. The Chet on the sofa looked
at her with a piteously needy face, and she spoke while
giving the camera a half-glance. "Poor Chet," she said,
"Here I've had all this fun and I bet you're just
aching to come, aren't you?" I opened his mouth but
nothing came out; he settled for nodding his head
vigorously and rocking his hips in little in-and-out
motions.
"That's okay," she cooed, "I know all about it." She
knelt by the side of the sofa and kissed her way around
my/his nipples and down his/my stomach, finally taking
each of his balls in her mouth and swirling her tongue
against them. "I love these," she continued, "and I
know Janine's gonna love them just as much!"
I was trying to reconcile the sweet, demure Peg I knew
with the sexual animal on the screen, not to mention
keep my eyes focused while one girl twisted and rubbed
my cockhead and the other did obscene things under my
balls. On the television, Peg was standing by the sofa
with one hand on my thigh. "Count with me," she cooed.
The version of me on the sofa opened his mouth and
rasped out hoarsely along with her: "one" ... "two"
... "three!"
At the count of three Peg tapped the sofa-me with one
finger on his balls. Oh how he came, cock spurting and
muscles spasming, cum flying everywhere, even up into
his hair. She kept that one finger busy touching one
spot and another until his legs lay bonelessly half-on
and half-off the sofa and his cock was just barely
dribbling from the end.
In the real sofa, I was doing the same thing except
that I still had my shorts on, shorts that were now
soaked and dripping; the girls had held my legs open so
that I couldn't squeeze their hands, and their fingers
slid repeatedly over the length of my cum-coated cock.
First Peg, then Janine swirled their hand around inside
my sodden cotton then lifted their fingers to my lips.
It seemed the most natural thing in the world to lick
their fingers until they were glistening clean.
Peg leaned in front of me, her eyes shining brightly
into mine. "You know," she told me, "Janine's a
psychology major. I thought you were never going to
make a move on me, so I made a deal with her. She
taught me how to hypnotize you." I felt Janine pulling
my pants off;
I found enough strength to lift my hips to make that
task easier. Despite the incredible way I'd just
exploded, my cock was getting hard again. "Our deal was
that after I got you inside me, she could do whatever
she wanted with you."
I felt lips envelop my cock and a cum-slick finger
exploring between my cheeks. I had questions but the
erotic inputs were drowning them all out. Peg beamed at
me, watching the reactions cross my face. "You know,
it's just as well you're the bashful type; this way we
get you all to ourselves. You won't be chasing after
any other girls at college now, will you?"
I started to say yes, I mean no I won't, but her lips
met mine then and I heard Janine's voice saying
something about taking turns and things got fuzzy
again...
END
Originally written 2000-05-06; revised 2003-09-22
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 63