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ADULTED movie and imagined Meg was some


ADULT EDUCATION

(c) Copyright 2000 by Wiseguy

Meg had one of those mischievous smiles on her face;
that should have been my first clue, but I missed it.
I let myself get distracted by the newsprint booklet
she was waving in my face instead.

"What's this for?" I asked, taking the booklet from
her hand. A quick glance told me it was the summer
course catalog from our local community college. You
probably get them too: a variety of short enrichment
classes in various things from cake decorating to
small appliance repair, all offered for a nominal fee
to adults in the community. Meg and I had both taken
classes there before, so the college had us on their
mailing list.

"Look at this one," she said, pointing to an entry
circled in red pen:
Hypnosis for Couples

Learn to experience increased pleasure and
intimacy through mutual hypnosis. Includes
discussion of induction techniques, formulating
effective suggestions, and a practical
demonstration. Couples only. Instructor: Carol
Sherman, CCHT. 3 sessions.
I looked back at Meg with raised eyebrows. "Are you
serious?"

"Of course." Her green eyes sparkled back at me.
"Doesn't it sound interesting to you?"

I read the entry again. "I suppose so," I granted,
"It doesn't really say much."

"Increased pleasure and intimacy through hypnosis,"
she quoted in reply. "Couples only. How much more
does it need to say?"

I handed the booklet back to her with a shrug. She
whacked me playfully over the head with it and gave me
an exaggerated scowl. "Don't play innocent with me,
Patrick," she scolded. "You spend as much time on the
hypnoerotic story sites as I do, if not more. I dare
you to look me in the eye and say you haven't
fantasized about learning to hypnotize me."

Well, she had me there. We'd only been living
together a few weeks when I came home one evening to
find her on my PC, surfing my favorite hypnofetish
story sites. For a few seconds my life flashed before
my eyes: I braced myself for a tirade about what a
pervert I am, how sick I must be to find that kind of
depravity entertaining, etc. I think she read that in
my face, because she immediately jumped up and hugged
me tightly. "It's okay," she whispered into my ear.
"I have most of the same sites bookmarked on my
laptop." That's when I knew this relationship was
going to work.

Meg was still waiting for me to respond to her dare. I
looked up into her eyes and thought yes, it would be
so cool to see those eyes closing on my command, to
take her into a deep sleep and know she will obey my
every wish. "You know I do," I answered.

Taking my head into her hands, Meg treated me to a
kiss that put a lump in the front of my shorts. "I do
too," she replied. "That's why I've already signed us
up. Don't make any plans for Thursday the 18th,
lover."

I reached up to her and cradled a breast in my hand,
squeezing just the way she likes. "You've got a
date," I said, pleased to hear the hitch in her
breath.

"Maybe you'd better take Friday off too," she added,
reaching down to open my zipper.


On Thursday the 18th we set out to find the location
listed in the course pamphlet we'd received with our
confirmation. Not surprisingly considering the
expected content, we quickly discovered that the class
was not being held on campus; instead, the pamphlet
directed us to a martial arts studio a few blocks
away.

We arrived 10 minutes ahead of the 7:00 scheduled
start time. A young woman met us at the door and led
us to the practice room. She looked to be in her
early thirties, with chestnut hair and the deepest
brown eyes I've ever seen.

"Hi. I'm Carol." Her voice was rich and sensual, and
her hand as it touched mine sent a small shock through
my system.

"I'm Patrick, and this is Meg," I replied weakly.

Carol flashed us a thousand-watt smile. "It's great
to meet you," she said. "The others are already here.
Come on back and get comfortable."

We followed Carol into the studio. Her thin workout
clothes displayed a beautifully proportioned figure.
Meg nudged me a little to make sure I wasn't paying
too much attention to those proportions.

The idea of holding a hypnosis class in a dojo seemed
strange to us at first, but once I saw the place it
made perfect sense. There was lots of floor space to
work with, for one thing. A generous supply of folded
wrestling mats was stacked up against the far wall,
and I saw that five other couples had already made
little nests for themselves using some of those mats.
A giant mirror, presumably for the benefit of karate
students practicing forms, covered the long wall.

Meg and I followed the others' lead and helped
ourselves to a few of the folding mats. They reminded
me of my college wrestling room pads -- thick, dense,
vinyl-covered, and extremely comfortable for sitting,
standing, or lying down.

While Meg and I were getting situated, Carol stood
apart from the group and made a few notes in a
personal organizer. Nodding to herself, she closed
the book and tucked it into a slim portfolio case.
"Everyone's here now," she announced, "We can get
started."

Call me an idiot if you like -- until that moment, I
didn't connect "Carol Sherman, CCHT" with that
voluptuous creature. I was expecting some scholarly,
kind, Angela Lansbury type. The reality turned out to
be more like Catherine Zeta-Jones. Not that I minded,
of course.

"I want to thank you all for coming tonight," she
began, that silky voice grabbing our collective
attention easily. "I'm your instructor for this
course. To my patients and colleagues, I am Dr.
Sherman; in here, though, I like to keep things casual
and friendly, so please just call me Carol."

I felt myself nodding automatically as she continued.

"As you know from the course description, this
workshop is about hypnosis for couples. I've been a
practicing hypnotherapist for about five years now,
and for the last two I've specialized in treating
sexual dysfunctions in both men and women. In that
time it's been my pleasure to teach hundreds of
couples how they can use hypnosis to enhance their
love lives. If you stay with me and work together
over the three sessions in this class, I promise you
that the experience will change the way you think
about sexual pleasure."

A quick glance around the room showed everyone
nodding, their eyes focused directly on Carol. My
cock stirred a little as a small part of my mind
connected Carol with sexual pleasure.

"But first," she continued, "I need to make sure that
you all understand some important things about what we
will and won't be doing here. You will be practicing
hypnosis on each other, learning to use the hypnotic
state for erotic purposes. Each of you will learn to
drop into a deep trance on command from your partner.
Sharing that power brings a new depth of intimacy to
relationships, but it requires absolute trust. If you
don't share your partner's interest in erotic
hypnosis, or if you are not sure you want to let your
partner guide you into a trance and give you
suggestions, then you should not be here. I'd rather
see you invest your time in improving your
relationship or at least doing something you can both
enjoy.

"At the same time, there are limits to what I can
teach you in three evening sessions. Don't imagine
that having taken this class qualifies you to start
hypnotizing people at dinner parties. If you're going
to do that, you owe it to your friends and yourself to
get proper training first."

Carol paused a minute to let it all sink in. "Now
listen to this very carefully," she continued. "The
hypnotic suggestions we use in this class will be
limited to things that have proven safe and effective
for our purpose. They will involve creating and
controlling desire, causing or enhancing physical
sensations, and overcoming inhibitions. I'm sure you
are all aware that hypnosis is also used medically to
help people lose weight, stop smoking, and things like
that. That's called hypnotherapy, and it takes years
of practice to become proficient at it. We will not
be conducting therapy in this class."

Carol's eyes swept sternly over us all, making contact
and asking an unspoken question. Each of us nodded
while meeting her gaze. "I am very serious about
this," she added. "Just because your partner agrees
to go into trance for you, that does not give you
license to try and 'improve' his or her personality.
If you do try, the most likely result is that it won't
work and the violation of trust will seriously damage
your relationship."

The point made, Carol seemed to relax. The smile
returned to her face as she moved on to the last item.
"Finally, I noticed some of you looking nervous when I
mentioned that we would be combining hypnosis and sex.
Let me assure you that my lesson plan does not call
for anyone to have intercourse during the class. The
idea is that what you learn here you take home and use
in private."

I took a quick look around the room and saw several
people looking relieved. The idea had never occurred
to me, but apparently it had to them; I guess that
proves I'm on the wrong side of 35.

"So much for the preliminaries," Carol said. "Does
anyone have questions before we go on?"

The question was barely out when a voice from across
the room shot out, "What if you can't be hypnotized?"
We all looked at the speaker: a slim blonde woman,
early twenties, in a designer warm-up suit. The man
next to her sat perfectly still and watched her,
almost seeming to fade into the background. Her voice
was strong and sure, causing me to wonder if she was
asking or challenging.

Carol turned to face the speaker. "You're Ellen,
right?"

"Yes."

"That's a fair question, Ellen," Carol replied
diplomatically. "Every so often in hypnotherapy, a
patient comes along who is highly resistant to
hypnosis. Most of the time the resistance comes from
misconceptions about what hypnosis is, or fear of
losing control. Some people are just very analytical
by nature and have a hard time letting their
subconscious take over. It's been my experience that
once a patient has been educated about the hypnotic
state and any latent fears or doubts have been put to
rest, anyone who is willing can enter hypnosis."

"You mean you've never had someone you couldn't put
under?" Ellen's tone was openly skeptical now, but
Carol seemed unconcerned.

"It's not really a question of putting someone under,"
she explained patiently. "Going into hypnosis is a
process that happens entirely within a person's own
mind. I can't make you or anyone else enter a
hypnotic state. What I can do, what I will do, is
teach you how to enter that state yourself or in
response to a suggestion from your partner. If you
want that to happen, Ellen, it will happen; if you
don't, it won't. The outcome is always what you want
it to be."

Nice, I thought. Now if she doesn't go under, it's
her own fault.

"Are there any other questions?" Carol asked. When
nobody spoke, she continued. "Okay. Now I'd like to
take a break. I'm asking each of you to please go and
use the bathroom, I want you comfortable with no
interruptions for the rest of the session. Be back
here in ten minutes, please."

It was closer to fifteen minutes before everyone had
taken care of business and settled back into their
chosen spots. There was a lot of nervousness on
display, as well as anticipation. Ellen, I noticed,
was the quietest of us; she simply sat and waited,
arms folded, with a closed look on her face.

With the buzz of a half-dozen whispered conversations
in the air, Carol stepped over to a small side table
and pressed a button on the boom box that rested
there. From the box came a strange sound: light,
airy, yet very soothing, it wasn't really music but it
wasn't just a simple tone either. We all fell silent
almost immediately, feeling the odd series of notes
flowing around and through us. Carol gave us a few
moments to adjust to the change, then turned to
address the class.

"I suppose I could start out by giving you a long,
technical lecture on how to help someone enter
hypnosis. In doing these classes, though, I've found
that it all makes much more sense if you actually
experience the hypnotic state first. I'd like for
everyone to lie back and get comfortable, please."

There was some shuffling around as we adjusted
ourselves into position. The ceiling, I noticed, had
a number of colorful dots on it. "Choose a spot on
the ceiling," Carol's voice told us, "and focus on
it." There was a dark blue dot near the middle of my
field of vision, so I fixed my gaze on it and waited
for more instructions.

Carol's voice grew smoother, softer, more seductive as
she began to talk us into trance. "Everyone take a
nice, deep breath now. Hold it ... hold it ... and now
exhale, completely, slowly, and let yourself sink into
the mats. Very good, everyone. Now breathe in again,
deeply and slowly. Hold it. And exhale, slowly,
completely, feeling yourself sinking a little further
into the mats." She had us do this several times,
each time exhorting us to relax and let the mats
support us.

"Notice how very settled, how very comfortable, you
feel right now," she continued. "Pay very close
attention to your body right now. Notice the feel of
your clothes against your skin, the softness of the
mat below you, the gentle motion of the air around
you. Concentrate on these sensations, just
concentrate and listen. Think of relaxation only; any
other thoughts that might come to you, just let them
come and pass like a summer breeze.

"Notice that you can still hear the music playing in
the background. It's a special rhythm designed to
help you relax. If you like, let the music enter your
mind and soothe you, relaxing you by degrees as you
float along on the waves of sound. You can
concentrate on that if you like, listening closely to
the music, and to my voice. Listen, relax, and
enjoy."

The music was enticing, I decided, and vaguely noticed
myself letting out another deep breath as I focused my
attention on the strange, comforting sounds flowing
out of the boom box. Carol's voice faded a little,
but I could still hear her clearly.

"As you watch your spot on the ceiling, you will find
that your eyes become tired from staring so long at
one place. They begin to water, to strain, to blink.
That's perfectly okay. Eyes get tired, especially
when they are focused so well in one place, as yours
are now. It's okay to feel tired, sleepy, groggy,
drowsy. Okay to feel the lids growing heavy, trying
to blink, trying to close. Soon you will find that
you can no longer hold your eyes open; they will
blink, quickly at first, and then more and more often,
until they simply no longer wish to remain opened at
all. And that's fine too. Don't make any deliberate
effort to close your eyes or to keep them open; just
let them close or blink whenever they want to, and
you'll drift into a wonderful, pleasant place of
relaxation. Just let yourself go.

"As we go along, I want you to be aware of your
breathing and each breath you take. Each time that
you exhale, let your neck relax, let your shoulders
drop, let your hips and thighs go loose. It will feel
wonderfully good."

My head was full of the music from the boom box. The
tone had changed slightly, I thought -- the rhythm had
slowed ever so slightly, the pitch lowered just a
hair. A warm, comfortable feeling began to flow
through my body.

"I'm going to count to three now," Carol's voice
continued, "and when I reach three, if you haven't
already closed your eyes down, I want you to close
them at that time. You will always be able to open
your eyes again if you really want to, but please
leave them closed until I ask you to open them. One ...
two ... and three, everyone let your eyes close now, let
your neck relax, let your shoulders drop, just letting
everything go. As we go along, you're going to find
that your mind starts to wander around to other
thoughts and other places, and that's okay. Any time
you find your mind wandering about, simply bring it
back and focus your attention on my voice or the
music, and you'll drift a little faster and a little
more deeply relaxed than you were the moment before."

I had a pretty decent buzz going already, thanks to
the music and the soothing tones of Carol's voice. My
body was heavy and limp, but I could feel the
wrestling mat underneath me supporting me, making it
possible to let every muscle go. My mind wandered for
a second, then I realized Carol was speaking again.

"...I'm going to mention several muscle groups of your
body, and as I mention these groups of muscles I want
you to focus your attention there, really concentrate,
and relax each group of muscles that I mention."

Starting with the face, Carol called out every major
muscle group and body part from head to toe. For each
group she told us to concentrate, focus, relax this
and that part, feel the part becoming heavy, loose,
and lazy. I kept drifting off to some other place,
only to catch myself and refocus on Carol's
instructions.

Once she had gone through all of the muscle groups,
Carol led us in another series of slow, deep breaths.
Each breath in filled my body with peace, and each
breath out let me melt down farther and farther in to
the soft, safe, comfortable mat.

Carol's voice had become so distant I found it hard to
make out what she was saying. Something told me that
was okay, though, so I simply let her voice merge with
the low, thrumming tones of the music in my head. I
felt my various muscle groups relaxing again, head to
toe, like the lights being turned off in a skyscraper
floor by floor.

A pattern of colors began to swirl before my eyes, and
I felt myself floating down into the middle of
whatever it was. It turned out to be a hammock,
stretched between two trees, waiting to be occupied.
I was in a small woodland, with grass under my feet
and enough trees to provide pleasant shade. There was
a small stream nearby; the bubbling sound of the water
running by made the place all the more peaceful. I
climbed into the hammock and lay back, swaying slowly
in the warm breeze. I watched the tree limbs as I
rocked back and forth, the sounds of the water still
in my ears, feeling safe and comfortable.

Perfectly contented, I closed my eyes and let out a
long, slow breath. From somewhere right behind me
Carol spoke some more. Firm, gentle hands pressed
down on my shoulders and the world melted away.

My rest was rudely interrupted by the familiar BWAAAP
of my alarm clock. Instinctively I rolled toward the
sound and reached out with an arm to silence the
obnoxious little box, only to realize that it wasn't
there. My mind cleared, and I saw that we were still
in the dojo. The alarm sound stopped before I could
locate the real source of the sound.

"Welcome back everyone," Carol said. "Take your time,
don't be in a hurry to start moving around. Take a
minute and pay attention to how you feel: peaceful,
relaxed, at ease."

She was right, I felt as if I'd had a long afternoon
nap. I looked over at Meg and took her hand; her face
radiated a kind of serenity that echoed my own
feelings. A slow, easy look around the dojo told me
that the other couples were experiencing the same
thing. Well, all of them who were left -- the
skeptical Ellen and her companion were gone, their
mats returned to the pile at the back of the dojo.
"What happened to them?" I asked, pointing toward the
empty spot.

"Ellen and Matt have decided not to continue," she
explained without explaining. "I agree with their
choice. And now that you've all had a chance to get
reoriented, let's talk about what you just
experienced."

Carol then launched into an informal lecture on the
basic theory of hypnosis. She described how people
actually go into and out of various trance states
normally every day when they drive, watch television,
read, dance, or do almost anything that requires
concentration. "That ability to focus on one thing or
sensation, so that other sounds and stimuli are
blocked out or ignored, is what a trance really is,"
she told us. She went on to explain some of the more
important principles regarding the hypnotic state:
that people can always choose to end the trance if
they wish; people can also choose to reject a
suggestion if it conflicts with their moral sense or
doesn't feel safe; and that post-hypnotic suggestions
wear off if they are not used regularly. "We've all
read or heard of stories in which someone drops into a
trance by hearing some random phrase that they were
conditioned to years before," she said. "It makes an
interesting fictional device, but it could never
really happen."

Next we discussed how hypnotic inductions actually
work. Carol went over the major modes of perception --
visual, auditory, and kinesthetic. "Visual people,"
she explained, "have a strong ability to see things
with their imaginations. They can invoke an image and
describe it in great detail. Auditory people are very
attuned to sounds. Kinesthetics are very good at
focusing on their own bodies, sensing their own
movement, position, and location. During the
induction we used earlier, I included elements of all
three. Unless you are very unusual, each of you
should have found that one type of instruction seemed
to work better for you than others. Maybe you found
the rhythmic sound from the CD player particularly
soothing; maybe staring at the dot seemed to focus you
more; maybe it was easiest for you to focus on the
various sensations around your body. Everyone is
different, but knowing how a person perceives the
world makes it much easier to help them into hypnosis
and to form workable suggestions." Then Carol turned
to me. "Patrick, what elements in the induction today
worked best for you?"

She had caught me off guard; I had to yank my eyes
back from the graceful curve of her shoulder and think
fast. "The auditory," I answered. "The visual
imagery of the hammock and the wood were also pretty
vivid, but it was mostly the music and your voice that
really put me away."

Carol smiled approvingly and looked to Meg. "The
sound was okay," Meg offered, "but it didn't really do
much for me. The whole relaxing thing, concentrating
on specific body parts and noticing all the different
sensations, that was the thing that really worked for
me. I had a hard time visualizing the woods, but I
could feel myself swinging in the hammock very well.
I guess that makes me a kinesthetic, right?"

Carol nodded and turned to the next couple. We
watched and listened as the other couples related
their experiences. Most of them turned out to be
visual types, plus one or two auditory. Meg was the
only kinesthetic in the group.

"Before we end the session for tonight," Carol
continued, "I want to demonstrate for you one more
principle of hypnosis: it gets much easier with
practice. Everyone close your eyes and think back to
when you were hypnotized earlier. If you are visual,
remember the images you saw and how you felt as you
looked at them; if you are auditory, try to recall the
sounds from the boom box and let them take you back
into deep relaxation; if you are kinesthetic, remember
the sensations of your body relaxing, melting into the
mats, growing heavy and loose. Relax your feet
everyone, your feet and now your calves ... let the
relaxation spread up your legs ... to your hips ... " Her
voice dropping back to the low, sensual tones of a
while before, Carol guided us all through another
progressive relaxation. I was gone before she got all
the way through, the memory of that sound replaying
through my head.

When I woke up again I felt invigorated. My body
tingled with a quiet excitement. I looked over at Meg
and noticed, as if for the first time, the delightful
curves of her breasts under the sport top she was
wearing. I put a hand on her back, partly to draw her
to me and partly to find out if she was wearing a bra
underneath. She wasn't, I concluded as out lips met
in a hot kiss that put Miracle Grow in my shorts. I
was only half aware of Carol's voice in the
background. "Our final item tonight is a small
demonstration of post-hypnotic suggestion," she was
saying. "I planted a fairly simple suggestion; you
should be feeling its affects right now, so I don't
think I need to tell you what it was. Please try to
remember this one thing, though: if you possibly can,
I'd like each of you to find some quiet time each day
and practice putting yourself back into hypnosis.
You'll find it gets easier if you practice every day."

Carol saw us all nod, but we weren't really paying
much attention to her. With a light sigh and a broad
smile, she dismissed us. "Everyone drive carefully,
and I'll see you here next Thursday."

Meg and I separated reluctantly, our eyes wandering
back to each other's bodies often as we gathered our
things and put away the mats. I did look around
enough to notice that we were not the only couple
acting this way. The 'small demonstration' was
clearly working in a big way.

As we headed out the door, Carol stopped us for a
quick aside. "It's unusual to have only one
kinesthetic person in a group," she said to Meg. "I'm
a kinesthetic too; remind me next week and I'll teach
you a couple of special techniques."

We thanked Carol and said goodnight, our minds mostly
occupied with our own special techniques, which we
intended to put into practice as soon as we got home.
The drive home was interesting, to say the least. As
I drove, my eyes kept wandering over to Meg in the
seat next to me. I saw the outlines of her nipples
pressing against the sports top, and her tulip shorts
had spread open when she sat down in the car seat,
showing me lots and lots of lean, sexy upper leg.
Somehow I managed to tear my eyes away enough to watch
the road.

"So what did you think of the class?" Meg asked with
forced nonchalance.

"It was ... interesting," I said. "I wonder what all
she told us while we were out of it."

Meg moaned a little when I said that. "I think we
know at least one thing she did," she replied, as her
hands cupped her breasts through the stretchy top. "I
can't believe how randy I am! Does it show?"

"You mean your flaring nostrils, the rising color in
your cheeks, and the way you keep looking at me while
you grope yourself? No, I hardly noticed at all."

Meg let out a Bronx cheer, then reached over into my
lap. "Feels like I'm not the only one whose boiler
pressure is rising," she said as her hand clamped down
on my straining cock. "How does this feel, wise guy?"
With a deft movement, she pulled down my zipper and
started stroking my shaft through my briefs.

My field of vision narrowed to just the road in front
of me as I tried to ignore the exquisite sensations in
my crotch. Finally I gulped and found a couple of
words. "I'm speechless," I confessed.

With an evil laugh, Meg withdrew her hand. I was both
relieved and disappointed. "Are we even going to make
it home?"

"Probably," she answered. "But if I don't get that
dick of yours firmly implanted at the first possible
moment, I think I'm going to burst."

"You're not driving," I pointed out. "Go ahead and
come if you want to; blow off some steam."

"Great idea!" Meg's right hand dove through the
waistband of her shorts. From my vantage point I
could just make out the shape of her hand as she
curled her fingers to reach into her seam. Her
breathing quickened and deepened, and I felt my own
body reacting to the low, growling moans that escaped
her lips. After a very long few minutes, she groaned
loudly. "Shit -- I can't come!" she shouted, her eyes
still shut and her fingers still working. "All this
diddling is only making it worse!"

"Making it worse for me too," I replied with feeling,
painfully aware of my cock pressing against the back
of the steering wheel. "Good thing we're almost
home."

Meg opened her eyes and checked our position: about 3
blocks from the house. "Hallelujah!" she cried. "I
knew you had it in you ... now hurry up so you can get
it into me."

A small corner of my mind started laughing. Meg is
never shy about letting me know when she's horny, but
I'd never seen her this incensed before. The fact
that I was in equally bad shape myself made it all the
more funny.

An eternity later, we cruised into the garage. I hit
the button to close the door and jumped out of the
car, fumbling with my keys to locate the inside door
key. Meg was right behind me, her hands running up
and down my upper body. I got distracted and dropped
my keys onto the concrete floor.

"Forget it," Meg said fiercely as she grabbed me by
the shoulders and spun me around, pressing me against
the doorframe with her sweating body. "Right here,
right now," she added, then locked her mouth onto mine
for a sweltering, deep kiss.

In moments I felt my pants fall to the floor, followed
immediately by my briefs. Not to be outdone, I lifted
Meg's sports top enough to expose her breasts and
caressed them, noticing with pleasure that her nipples
felt as hard as my cock. Meg dropped to her knees,
pulling herself out of my hands, and brought her
tongue to bear against the sides of my shaft. She
licked me slowly, sensuously, up one side and down the
other, tracing rings around the head with the tip of
her tongue. One of her hands reached around me and
started stroking my balls. We were both breathing in
heavy gasps.

My head jerked back as Meg squeezed in just the right
place; I felt something hard behind my head move,
followed immediately by the sound of a small motor.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the garage door
start to lift.

"Shit!" I cried, stabbing at the switch wildly to
reverse the movement. On about the fifth try I
succeeded, and the door settled back into closed
position. Meg used my distracted time to hastily
strip off her clothing; she stood before me in only
her sneakers, like a streaker from the 70's. Pulling
one foot free from the entangling grip of my pants and
briefs, I grabbed Meg in a bear hug, lifted her up,
and set her down on the edge of my workbench about 10
paces away. Lips locked together, tongues wrestling
each other to a draw, I tilted her back a little bit
and slid into her dripping slit.

"Yes!" she gasped as I buried my cock between her
legs. "Oh, this is perfect! Don't you dare stop!"

"Stop?" I replied jokingly. "I've barely started."

Meg's legs wrapped themselves around me,
simultaneously squeezing my torso and pulling me
closer to her center. The rising pitch and frequency
of her moans told me she was almost there. I clenched
down hard with my groin muscle, lifting my cock and
putting a little extra pressure on the top of her
canal, and that was all she wrote. Meg shrieked again
and again as the orgasm ripped through her body. I
was so pleased with her reaction that I barely noticed
I was still pumping away. Then, with almost no
warning, my balls burst and I came. One spurt after
another came flying out like water from a fire
hydrant; part of me wondered if I was going to pull a
muscle this way. Finally the fury subsided and we
collapsed against each other, kissing and stroking as
we fell into post-coital bliss. A long time later, we
separated. We looked at each other in wonder.

"Wow," I remarked, knowing even as I said it how
inadequate that word was.

"Definitely a wow," Meg replied. We both had spit-
eating grins on our faces as we gathered up our
hastily discarded clothes and carried them into the
house.

If there's one problem with having a Thursday night
like we'd had, it's this: Friday can't help but seem
lame by comparison. I spent most of the day glued to
my desk, updating some CAD drawings with last-minute
changes from the client. Once I'd sent the finished
version across the wire to the print shop, it was just
after three o'clock -- too early to leave, too late to
start something new.

I decided that the best way to kill time until I could
reasonably go home would be to back up my local data
files to the network. Those of us who do design work
get the nicest PC's in the place and have enough
storage to keep our files locally so we don't hog the
network reading and writing our CAD data. In
exchange, the network administrator expects us to make
backups of our drawing files in a special directory on
the network, where they can be written to tape for
disaster recovery purposes. Things are never that
busy on Friday afternoons, so I figured it was as good
a time as any to be a good citizen.

As I sat there watching files copy, I thought again
about the previous night's class. Going into hypnosis
had been surprisingly easy, especially the second
time. I wondered if I could do it again without the
extra aid of Carol's voice. I took a quick survey of
the neighboring cubicles; nobody home but me. I
already knew the boss was off, so all systems were go.

While I was up, I grabbed one of the high-backed
chairs from the team room and dragged it back to my
cube. From the progress on my computer screen, I
figured I had about twenty minutes to kill.

I sat down in the high-backed chair, stretched out my
legs, and put my feet up on the seat of my regular
chair. My hands I let fall into my lap. It was
almost as comfortable as lying down on the mats in the
dojo. I let my eyes close as I took a deep breath in
and let it out, slowly and easily, as we had done the
night before. In my mind's ear I imagined hearing
that strange musical sound again, flowing through my
mind, relaxing me, taking me deeper and deeper. A
warm, pleasant feeling crept through me, and I
encouraged it, letting myself grow sleepier and
sleepier, relaxing, drifting ...

... and waking up suddenly to the feel of a hand on my
shoulder. I looked up to see Shirley, our boss's
secretary, looking down at me with an amused smile.
"Rough night, Pat?"

"Something like that," I waffled, trying to get myself
oriented again.

"So take off," she suggested. "Just about everyone
else has. I only came over to rib you about swiping
one of the good chairs."

I looked at the clock on my computer screen: 4:18. A
full hour, and then a little, had gone by while I was
zoned out. Too embarrassed to come up with a clever
reply, I just thanked Shirley, put everything away,
and went home.

I told Meg about what I'd done over dinner, expecting
her to share a laugh with me over getting caught by
Shirley. She surprised me by saying that she'd done
the same thing.

"I got home at the normal time," she said -- for Meg,
that's about 3:30 because she starts work at 6:45. "I
took a quick shower, and when I came out I just had
this idea that it would be fun to see if I could put
myself under. I stretched out on the bed and just let
go, and after a while I felt the buzz and went with
it. The phone woke me up -- another long distance
company trolling for nave customers -- and I saw it
was almost 4:30. I must have been really gone,
because it only felt like a couple of minutes to me."

"Another of Carol's demonstrations?" I speculated.

"I don't think so," she answered thoughtfully. "I
mean, we were all awake when she told us that she
wanted us to practice going under when we get the
chance. I didn't feel as though I had to do it, just
that it would be interesting to try."

"Same here," I agreed, and let the matter drop. We
could always ask Carol about it at the next class.
The weekend was mostly unremarkable. We spent
Saturday catching up on errands and odd jobs:
laundry, washing cars, a little light household
maintenance, that kind of thing. Meg practiced her
self-hypnosis in the morning right after her shower,
and I did mine after dinner.

Meg had an interesting idea on Sunday. "Why don't we
practice together today?"

I shrugged. "Sure, why not?" After lunch we retired
to the bedroom, pulling the shades to filter out most
of the afternoon sun. We kicked off our shoes and
stretched out on the bed, face up, my right hand in
her left. Meg started us on a deep breath, but I
stopped.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," I answered. I rolled away from Meg and
checked out my alarm clock. It read 2:10pm, so I set
the alarm time to 3:15. "Just a precaution," I
explained. "As nice as this is, I don't want to spend
the whole afternoon sacked out."

"Good idea," she agreed.

The alarm set, I resumed my position next to Meg. We
each took a series of deep, slow breaths to get
ourselves started. As I relaxed into the bed, I could
sense Meg next to me doing the same. We found
ourselves breathing in unison without really trying
to. Soon I felt the warm, inviting buzz of hypnosis
coming over me and I let go into it, confidant that we
would wake up at the appointed time.

My eyes opened again almost immediately, or so it
seemed. I felt wide awake, at ease, rested. Meg
stirred next to me. "What time is it?"

I did a double take at the clock before answering:
"Three fifteen ... can you believe it?"

"Did the clock go off?"

"No, it didn't." Puzzled, I scooted over and checked
the clock. "Shit -- I set it to 3:15am instead of pm."

"It doesn't seem as though we needed it," she
observed.

"I guess not. The question is, was it dumb luck --"

"or did we wake up just now because we had already
decided to?" We both shrugged at that one. Another
thing to ask Carol about on Thursday.

I got into the office early on Monday to get some
extra things done before a 9:30 meeting. As luck
would have it, though, our LAN team had chosen Monday
to roll out an automated update of some sort. They
aren't supposed to do those on the CAD systems because
we have different configurations and hardware from
most people, but somebody apparently forgot. Seconds
after logging in I got a screen message telling me to
please wait while my system is updated. A minute or
so after that, I got the infamous Blue Screen of
Death. After leaving a voice mail for the help desk
and a warning for my cohorts Gary and Barbara, I spent
the time I had wanted to be working in the cafeteria,
drowning my sorrows in hot coffee and a blueberry
muffin.

Other than the meeting, the day was a total loss. The
first tech that came up took one look at the PC, saw
it wasn't a standard configuration, and retreated
immediately. The second one looked at it a bit
longer, asked me what I had changed on the system, and
looked unbelieving when I explained what had happened.

After the meeting, and a long lunch with Gary and
Barbara during which we contemplated various methods
of torture suitable for the network administrators, my
PC still wasn't up. Barbara had the afternoon off so
I tried to get some work done using her machine, but
it was like driving someone else's car -- the controls
are more or less the same, but everything is just
different enough to be awkward. By three o'clock,
with three techs now huddled over my crippled PC
scratching their heads, I'd had enough and headed home
in disgust.

Meg's car was in the garage as usual when I got home,
but the house seemed quiet. I was still in a pretty
foul mood, so rather than go looking for Meg right
away I slipped upstairs to the bedroom. Changing out
of my office clothes does wonders for my attitude on a
bad day.

I found Meg on the bed and started to say something,
but I stopped short. She was so still, so peaceful
looking. Meg is an active sleeper, rolling around and
moving her arms and legs as she dreams; seeing her
this quiet was odd. I tiptoed around the bed for a
closer look.

Meg's arms were at her sides, her feet tilted
outwards. I could see her eyes flickering around
under her closed lids and see the slow movement of her
chest as she breathed. She was wearing her white silk
robe, closed but not fastened, and nothing else. She
smelled faintly of soap and moisturizer, suggesting
that she'd had a shower when she got home.

I fingered the edge of her robe, pulling it back ever
so slightly, peeking at the line of smooth skin
leading between her breasts, to the navel, and down to
her thatch. For about three seconds I thought about
waking her up; then I had a better idea.

Backing away from the bed, I slipped my own clothes
off, being careful to make as little noise as
possible. I knelt down beside the bed and gently,
lightly, let my hand come to rest on her stomach. The
silk moved under my hand as she breathed. Watching
Meg's face carefully for signs of awakening, I moved
my hand slowly up toward her breast, using just enough
pressure to let me feel her through the silk robe. My
fingers reached the nipple and parted, teasing the
sides, and I was pleased to feel the nipple stiffen in
response even as my palm crossed over it and reversed
directions, stroking downward just as slowly and
gently.

The next time I applied just a little bit more
pressure and lingered over the nipple, squeezing very
slightly, letting the silk move a little more under my
hand. The gap in the robe widened of course as I
moved the material around; after a few minutes I just
had to peel it aside the rest of the way. My hand
brushed down her bare skin one time as I leaned
forward. My tongue contacted her exposed nipple as my
hand came to rest on her mound, fingers reaching down
to her slit. I felt her breath in suddenly and her
legs starting to move, and my eyes darted up to her
face. Her eyes were opening, but she still looked
dazed.

"Relax, Meg," I said, trying my best to imitate
Carol's smooth delivery. "There's no need to wake up
yet. You're about to have a wonderful, erotic dream.
Just close your eyes and let it happen, let the dream
take your mind to new depths of peace and relaxation
even as you feel your body becoming aroused."

Meg's eyelids closed down and she sighed a long, lazy
sigh as she settled back into the bed. Watching that
happen sent a rush of adrenaline to my groin that
almost completely derailed my train of thought. I'd
had all kinds of fantasies about Meg responding to my
voice that way, but seeing it happen in reality was a
rush unlike anything I'd ever known. In my
distraction -- or was it fascination? -- I barely
noticed that my free hand had taken a firm grip on my
cock. I knelt there for several seconds at least,
just trying to assimilate the powerful erotic feelings
that had erupted within me, before I remembered what I
was trying to do.

My cock was screaming for attention, but I willed
myself to let go and get back to the original plan. I
put my mouth over the nearest nipple and sucked,
running my tongue over the extended tip, while at the
same time I began probing her slit with my fingers.
Meg moaned deeply, and soon I could feel moisture
coating my fingertips as they stroked her center.

As delicately as I could, I rose up and climbed onto
the bed. I let my left hand take over on her breast
momentarily while I kissed my way south, parting her
legs as I came to rest between them. I kissed her
thighs, her mound, her lips, and felt her hips start
to move up and down. I lifted my head long enough to
see that her eyes were still closed and her face
slack, then dove in to finish the job.

A lick here, a suck there, my hands caressing her legs
all the while, I watched and listened for signs of
awakening. Her breathing remained deep but the pace
was picking up, and each exhale came with a long,
sustained moaning sound. Her body felt heavy and
loose, but there was no question that she was
responding and would be ready to come soon. I thought
briefly about trying the "you can't come until I tell
you to" trick that figures into so many of our
favorite stories, but I opted not to -- I wasn't sure I
could pull it off, and I didn't want to spoil this by
trying and failing.

Instead I put the broad side of my tongue right
against her swollen clit and teased it, rubbing
against one side and then the other, until the moans
turned into passionate cries and then to shrieks as
Meg came. I did my best to stay in position, trying
to make the orgasm last as long as I could for her.
Even in the throes of a climax, she was so relaxed
that her legs remained almost completely limp on my
shoulders.

When the shrieks had died down to loud, heavy breaths
again, I felt more movement on the bed and peeked up
in time to see Meg's head rising up, her elbows coming
back to support her. Her face looked dazed, dizzy ...
and absolutely beautiful.

"Honey," I said playfully, "I'm home."

That week passed very slowly for us. After our little
experiment Monday, we were both anxious to continue
with our education.

Apparently we weren't the only ones keen to learn
more: when we reached the dojo it was a good twenty
minutes before the class was supposed to start, yet
everyone but Carol was already there.

Meg and I had our mats arranged to our liking and were
just settling in when Carol arrived. Her welcoming
smile beamed at us so brightly that it took me a few
seconds to realize she wasn't alone. Behind her was a
man of average height, slightly balding, with a neatly
trimmed beard and wire-frame glasses. His navy blue
warm-up suit hung loosely on his thin frame. He
busied himself setting up the boom box while Carol
made a few notes in her organizer.

"Good evening," Carol began, setting the organizer
down. "It's good to see everyone here bright and
early. Has it been an interesting week for you all?"
She made eye contact with each of us in turn, and
without fail each of us met her gaze with a sheepish
grin. "Excellent! Before we get started, I'd like
you all to meet my husband, Jim." She indicated the
man who had followed her in.

Jim waved to the group. "I'm not a hypnotherapist,"
he quipped, "but I've been known to sleep with one."
He winked and smiled in a way that made me like him
instantly.

"Behave," his wife scolded lightly before turning back
to us. "Besides being a card-carrying wiseacre, Jim
is my oldest and best student. He'll be helping out
in several capacities for the rest of the course.
He's very well trained, so rest assured you can trust
anything he tells you.

"Now," she continued, "Are there any questions you'd
like to toss out before we go any further?"

"I have one." Tamika, a twenty-something black woman
in burgundy fleece, spoke up. Her head was cocked to
one side and her eyebrows rose high on her forehead as
she looked at Carol. "What exactly did you do to us
last time?"

A group chuckle erupted -- the question was on all of
our minds, and it was a relief to hear someone voice
it. Carol was clearly expecting it and had her answer
ready.

"A couple of simple posthypnotic suggestions," she
explained. "One of the keys to using erotic hypnosis
is believing that it really can work. Before you try
making suggestions to each other, I wanted you to see
and feel for yourselves that the results we are going
to talk about are possible -- not just in the abstract,
but for you specifically. The best way to prove that
to you was by example.

"Before bringing you out of hypnosis last week, I
suggested that upon waking you would be much more
aware than usual of how sexy your partner really is,
and that this increased awareness would lead to your
having sexual thoughts and desires. Then I suggested
that each of those thoughts would add to a growing,
irresistible lust that wouldn't be satisfied until you
make love with your partner, which you would do at the
first safe opportunity."

As Carol explained what she'd done, I replayed that
Thursday night in my mind: the sudden randiness I'd
felt when we woke up the last time; the steady buildup
of need; Meg trying to bring herself off in the car
and failing, and how it that had affected me; it all
fell neatly into place.

Meg broke the silence with a question of her own.
"Did you make any other suggestions while we were out?
About practicing every day or anything like that?"

"Yes, I did. Going into trance is a skill which must
be practiced. That's especially true in this context,
where you are all just beginning to learn and don't
have a professional to guide you at home. To help
you, I suggested that you would find it easy to
reenter the hypnotic state on your own at will, and
that each time you try you will go deeper than the
time before. I reinforced those concepts several
times."

"Did you tell us we had to practice every day?"

"Not as a posthypnotic suggestion, no. If you
remember, I did suggest after you were fully awake
that practicing every day would be a good thing. Did
everyone do that?" She looked around at us all;
everyone was nodding. "That's very good. Now that
you know how easily you can enter the hypnotic state
on your own, it will be even easier for you to do it
with your partner's help. And that leads us directly
to tonight's first demonstration."

Carol looked over at Jim with a slight nod and he
joined her at the front of the room. We watched as he
stepped behind Carol and put his arms around her,
holding her firmly just below the breasts. She pushed
her long hair to one side out of his face. He craned
his neck forward enough to kiss her lightly on the
cheek, then whispered something into her ear.

The effect was dramatic: Carol's legs buckled and her
arms dropped like stones as her body slumped backward.
Her head pitched to the right and drooped. Only Jim's
arms, locked firmly around her ribcage, kept her from
crumpling to the floor. I stared wide-eyed at the
doctor's limp form, fascinated. Meg's hand found mine
and squeezed, but neither of us looked away from the
sight in front of us.

"Rapid induction," Jim said by way of explanation.
"One of the suggestions I always reinforce with Carol
is that she will drop into trance whenever I utter a
particular phrase. As you can see, it's a very fast
way to take your partner into trance. It's also kind
of fun in its own right," he added, winking at us.

"Can you do that anytime you want?" I didn't see who
asked; it was one of the men.

"Pretty much. Carol and I have been doing this with
each other for a very long time, so we're both pretty
strongly conditioned; we respond without even thinking
about it."

"How long will she stay out?"

"Until I tell her to wake up ... or until my arms give
out and I drop her on the floor." We laughed
nervously at his joke. Carol was a good four inches
taller than Jim, and strongly built; I wondered how
long he could hold her up.

It was a moot point, because as the group quieted down
again Jim spoke to Carol. "Wake up on three, darling:
one, two, three."

Carol's eyes snapped open. Her face looked blank for
a second or two, but then she blinked a few times and
seemed to reorient herself. "You're wide awake now,
fully alert," Jim said, but he kept a firm grip on her
until she cleared her throat and agreed with him.

"That's an important thing to remember," Jim said,
addressing the class. "Even though your partner's
eyes are open and she seems okay, always end with the
suggestion that she is fully awake and alert. It
helps her to focus again on the here and now."

Carol came forward, looking fully alert again. "Ready
to try it yourselves?" She received a general murmur
of assent. "Good. Ladies, lie back and get
comfortable. You'll be the subjects tonight. Guys,
you are going to help guide your partner into a nice,
deep trance state. Jim and I will help you get there.
When she's nice and deep, you will suggest a trigger
that will put her back into hypnosis quickly. Then
you'll wake her up and practice using the trigger."

Tamika's companion raised his hand looking confused.
"How do we do the induction?" he asked. "I don't
remember that long speech you used last time."

"Of course not," Carol agreed. "Don't worry, we've
got some Cliff's Notes for you." Jim reached into the
canvas bag they had carried into the dojo with them
and produced a number of folded booklets. "These
booklets have a number of standard induction scripts
in them," Carol explained while her husband passed out
the materials. "You'll recognize several of the
samples in there from last week, because I blended
several standard scripts together. Look these over
together and pick the one that your partner is most
comfortable with. Think about what elements from last
week's induction worked particularly well for her, and
choose a script that focuses on those elements."

There was a general buzz as the couples leafed through
the booklet and talked among themselves. Carol came
over to us while Meg and I were still looking at the
titles. "Would you like a recommendation?" she
offered.

"Sure," Meg answered immediately.

"There's one toward the end called 'Hand Breathing'.
It's a personal favorite of mine; it produces great
relaxation, and works very well with kinesthetic
types."

Turning quickly to the relevant page, Meg and I
skimmed the text. It certainly looked interesting.
Meg was up for it, so I began studying the script
while we waited for further instructions. It was
short and pretty simple; I had it just about down by
the time Carol began addressing the group again.

"Just a few tips on how to use these scripts," she
said. "First of all, these are not magical
incantations. Just reading one of these out loud to
your partner is not going to do anything for her. The
best way to use these is to realize that an induction
script is little more than a series of suggestions
that you are giving to your partner which will result
in her entering hypnosis. Don't bury your nose in the
book and read the script verbatim -- read a line or
two, understand what it says, and relay that to your
partner. If the wording feels awkward, go ahead and
reword it so that you're comfortable with it.

"Second, it's important that you pay close attention
to your partner's body. If you say that her feet are
becoming relaxed, look at her feet and watch for a
sign that they are doing it. If you tell her that her
eyes are getting tired and heavy, watch them start to
blink or tear. The more you can pace the patter to
what is actually physically happening, the more
effective your induction will be.

"Finally, keep your voice natural. A lot of people
have this notion that a hypnotist should talk like
Bela Lugosi in 'Dracula', drawing out every word until
it's almost a chant. In real life, all that will do
is make you feel silly and distract your partner from
what you're actually saying. Just speak normally and
you'll be fine.

"Any more thoughts or questions?" When nobody spoke
up, Carol nodded. "Okay, then begin."

Meg had already made herself at home. She had herself
stretched out lengthwise on one mat, with another
acting as a pillow under her head and a third propping
up her feet. Her hands were folded together on top of
her midriff, and her eyes were fixed on me
expectantly. "Ready when you are," she said.

I was jittery, anxious, tense. To give myself a
little time to settle down I had Meg start with a few
deep breaths. Carol caught my eye from across the
room and put a hand to her diaphragm. The signal was
clear: breathe, Patrick. So I joined Meg in a couple
of deep ones and soon I could feel myself growing more
relaxed and confident. It even occurred to me that
this would segue well into the induction we had
chosen. Shifting closer to her side, I started the
induction talk.

"As you're lying there concentrating on your
breathing," I told her, "I want you to imagine a very
strange idea. I wonder if you can imagine that you
can actually breathe through your fingertips. Just
imagine that rather strange idea, that you can
actually breathe in through your fingertips." I gave
her a few seconds to think about that before going on.
"Imagine that you can feel the air moving in through
your hands, slowly at first, with perhaps just a faint
tingling sensation as it flows past your palms. And
now just imagine that feeling moving slowly up your
arms, through your elbows, up to the shoulders.
Feeling that comforting flow of air moving through
both arms, both elbows, both shoulders."

I could see Meg's hands twitching a little, her
fingers spreading apart just a hair, and took that as
a good sign. "As you feel that slight tingle, that
comforting flow of air moving through your arms, you
may notice that it leaves the muscles in your hands
feeling warm and loose, relaxed, lazy. Just imagine
that, imagine the air flowing through your hands,
relaxing them, bringing that tingle through your
elbows and shoulders, relaxing your arms completely as
it flows through. Breathe deeply and feel the flow as
your arms relax so completely." The twitching
stopped, and Meg's arms seemed to settle, rising and
falling as she breathed in and out.

After a few seconds, I continued. "As you feel that
comforting, relaxing flow of air moving through your
hands, through your arms to your shoulders, maybe
finding again that faint tingling sensation, perhaps
in your elbows or forearms this time, then moving down
through your body. Down through your chest and
stomach, down through your hips, down through your
thighs, into your knees and shins and calves." The
script had the word 'down' in italics, so I gave each
'down' some extra emphasis. "Again, you might feel
that faint tingling sensation just there, just below
your knees, moving down through your ankles and out
the bottoms of your feet. And you can find a great
deal of calmness and easiness in this rather strange
idea that you can breathe in through your fingers,
that you can actually feel the air moving through your
whole body in one single, warming, comforting flow. A
unidirectional flow, moving through your whole body in
one single comforting flow. The calmness and
relaxation you breathe in doesn't get involved with
the tensions and stresses that you breathe away from
yourself. With each breath you take, with each word I
speak, you find yourself becoming steadily more and
more relaxed."

Something touched my elbow; I turned my head and saw
Carol kneeling behind me. "You're doing great," she
said softly. "Your pacing is smooth and steady, which
is good. Can you see how well it's working?"

I looked back at Meg's face. Her jaw looked slack and
her lips were parted slightly. "She looks pretty out
of it to me. But how do I know she didn't just nod
off?"

"Look at her eyes. See how they're moving under her
lids? That's called REM, for rapid eye movement. It
means her subconscious is active. Also, notice how
still she is. Watch her breathing, see how slow and
easy it is. She's going to be nice and deep by the
time you're done with the patter. It's going to take
a little longer for some of the others, though, so
when you're finished with the script go into a
deepener. The staircase one is simple and works
well."

"Okay." Carol stood up and moved on to the next
couple, and I turned my attentions back to Meg. "Very
good, Meg. With each breath you take, each word I
speak, you find yourself becoming steadily more and
more relaxed. As you relax, you begin to notice the
weight of your head against the soft mat, wondering if
that weight might seem to gently increase as you relax
even more. Feeling also the weight of your feet on
the pad, and noticing how that weight, too, seems to
gently increase even as you think about it." I was
ad-libbing; the script actually made reference to
someone sitting in a chair with a footrest.
Remembering how well Meg had responded Monday
afternoon, I changed the imagery a little.

"You find that sensation of total relaxation, as if
you are lying on your own bed after a hot shower,
sinking gently into the mattress, letting it envelop
you, feeling totally calm, totally safe. With each
breath you take, with each word I speak, allowing that
feeling of great calmness, comfort, and safety to
increase. Feeling that warm, relaxing flow of air
continuing to move through your whole body, from your
hands, through your arms, down through your body and
out through your feet."

That was the end of the standard script. Meg's
breathing had slowed so much I could barely tell when
she inhaled. I watched her for a few moments -- she's
so beautiful when she's asleep -- then thumbed through
the booklet to find the staircase deepener.

As I led Meg down an imaginary staircase, telling her
that each step took her deeper into hypnosis, I
watched her. As we got closer to the bottom of the
staircase, it seemed as though her face began to flush
slightly. Her eyes continued to flit about under
closed lids, so I kept reading. When the deepener was
over, I looked around for a clue on what to do next.
Jim caught my eye and came over.

"Looks like you're in good shape," he commented.
"Have you decided on a trigger yet?"

"I think so." I told him what I had in mind; he made
a few suggestions, which I gladly accepted, and told
me to proceed.

"Meg, darling, you are now in a deep, delicious state
of hypnosis. You are more relaxed than you ever
thought anyone could ever be. You are completely in
touch with every part of your body and mind, and they
are all under your complete control. It's so
pleasant, so very pleasant, to let yourself relax this
way and let me take care of you, let me take care of
everything. Would you like to be able to return to
this wonderful, peaceful state of mind again, Meg?"

I waited. Several long seconds later, her lips moved
slightly. "You are deeply, totally relaxed, Meg," I
said as Jim had suggested, "and nothing can disturb
that wonderful feeling. You will find that you can
easily speak to me while you are in this state, and
that it will not disturb your relaxation in the least.
In fact, speaking while under hypnosis even helps your
mind to relax even more, taking you deeper and deeper
with every word. Would you like to be able to return
to this deep, satisfying sleep again, Meg?

Her whole mouth moved this time: "Yes, please."

"You can, Meg. You can return to this state any time
you wish. In fact, whenever I say the phrase
'Goodnight, Gracie' you will immediately close your
eyes and relax, letting yourself slide so easily, so
deeply back into hypnosis. Every time I say
'Goodnight, Gracie' you will find it easier and easier
to just let go. Every time I say 'Goodnight, Gracie'
you will go deeper into hypnosis than the time before.
You won't have to think about it, you will simply let
go and trust me to take care of you. Will you do
that, Meg? Will you let me take you back into deep,
wonderful hypnosis by saying 'Goodnight, Gracie' to
you?"

"Yes."

"Then that's what will happen, darling. 'Goodnight,
Gracie' will be your hypnotic trigger from now on, and
you will always go immediately into a deep hypnotic
sleep when I say those words to you. Won't you?"

"Yes, I will."

"Very good, Meg. Rest now, darling. Just let
yourself drift and relax, rest and sleep, until I say
your name again."

Jim nodded approvingly from his position at Meg's
feet, then went on to another couple. I sat back and
watched Meg some more, waiting for the next step. The
realization of what I had done -- actually induced a
deep hypnotic trance, on purpose -- started to sink in.
Despite all the hypnofetish stories I'd read, I wasn't
really prepared for the power rush that came from
realizing I could actually do this. The possibilities
were staggering ... not to mention arousing.

The wait wasn't too long, only about ten minutes. Meg
never stirred; in fact, the only way I could tell she
was still breathing was by putting a hand just over
her face. I wondered how much of this she would
remember later. I wondered how much I would remember
when it was my turn, and felt my cock grow another
inch in response.

"Okay, gentlemen." Carol was back at the front of the
room, speaking more quietly than usual but addressing
us all. "Now that you have your suggestions
implanted, it's time to exercise them. In a few
moments, I'm going to have you wake your partner up.
Some of these ladies are pretty deep, so it may take a
few seconds for them to come out of it. That's okay.
As soon as they seem awake to you, I want you to say
the trigger phrase. She should go back down pretty
easily; if not, then tell her to relax, let go, feel
herself slipping back into hypnosis even deeper than
before. That will probably do the trick; even after
waking, people tend to stay very suggestible for a
while. Once she is back down, I want you to reinforce
the trigger suggestion, then wake her up again. Keep
doing that until I tell you to stop. Every time you
take her back down, keep telling her that she is going
deeper than before. Questions? ... Then go ahead, wake
her up."

Here goes, I thought to myself, and turned back to
address Meg. "Time to wake up, Meg. I'm going to
count to three, and when I reach three your eyes will
open and you will be fully awake. One ... two ... three."

Meg's eyes opened very slowly, taking several seconds
to finally focus. "That was ... interesting," she
remarked as she met my gaze. She started to rise up.

"Stay down," I said, and was somewhat surprised to see
her drop back against the mat immediately. I think
Meg was surprised too; her face took on a vaguely
puzzled look.

"I must have been really out of it," she remarked.
"What happens next?"

"Goodnight, Gracie." The eyes that were watching me
glazed over, and the puzzled look deepened.

"Huh?" She was struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Relax and let go," I said soothingly. "Don't fight
it, just let it happen. Let the trigger phrase take
you swiftly, easily down into your deepest, most
comfortable sleep." As Carol had predicted, Meg gave
up the struggle immediately and sank back into the
cushions below. I repeated myself several times,
encouraging her to sink deeper and deeper, then ran
through the trigger suggestions again. It took all of
my concentration to focus on that instead of the
growing lump in my pants. When Meg had again agreed
to respond to the trigger, I counted to three and woke
her up again.

She came to more quickly this time. "Hey," she
started, "What did you d--"

"Goodnight, Gracie." Meg didn't finish her question;
her face blanked as I said the magic phrase and this
time she dropped on cue. I gave her the generic
deepening suggestions again anyway, just to help
things, and went through the sequence with her several
more times. After about fifteen minutes of this Meg
was dropping like a rock.

One time as Meg was waking up, Carol came over. "How
are you doing?" she asked, looking at Meg.

"Don't ask me," she retorted, "I can't seem to get up
off my back."

"Can you sit up?"

"I think so." Meg pulled herself gingerly into a
sitting position.

"Is that better?"

"Yes."

"Good." Looking back to me, Carol added, "Go ahead."

I put an arm around Meg's shoulders. "Goodnight,
Gracie." I was expecting her to fall backwards, but
instead she tipped to her left, landing mostly in my
lap.

"Start giving her a little more time between
triggers," Carol told me. "And keep reinforcing the
suggestions and the deepening. You'll notice that it
starts taking her longer to wake up as she goes
deeper. Just lengthen the awake time by a few seconds
each cycle and you'll have her well conditioned."

I followed her instructions as given, letting Meg have
a slightly longer 'awake break' between triggers each
time. Carol was right again; Meg did seem to need
more time to come out of it as we kept going. I
started letting Meg get up and move around during her
awake times, but I made sure I was in position to
catch her before giving her the trigger again. By the
time Carol called an end to the exercise, Meg and I
were able to duplicate what Carol and Jim had done at
the beginning: I could stand behind Meg, give her the
trigger, and catch her as she let go.

Meg was stunned when she saw how much time had elapsed
since the start of the hand-breathing induction. She
had been more or less out of it for the better part of
an hour. "How much do you remember?" I asked her.

"Not much," she answered after some thought. "I
remember the hand breathing bit, although I sort of
drifted off once or twice during that. At some point
you shifted into something about a staircase. I half
remember other voices, but they were distant -- I
didn't try to make out the words. And then you
started doing the yo-yo thing on me, waking me up and
sending me back down again right away. After a bit of
that I got completely lost. All I knew was that you
kept putting me under, and it felt good and I didn't
want to keep waking up." She took a quick look left
and right, then lowered her voice and added, "And the
more I think about it, the more my juices get flowing,
if you get my drift."

"I get it all right," I confessed. "It's pretty hot
from my end, too. The power rush I get from watching
you zone out on command ... there's no way to describe
it. You'll see what I mean."

"I can't wait." We pressed each other tightly in a
hot, passionate kiss that promised more at the
evening's end.

Jim and Carol had shooed us out of the main training
room for our break; when the second half of the class
started, Carol explained why. "While you were taking
your break, Jim took me back into hypnosis and gave me
a series of suggestions designed to illustrate some of
the simple but effective things you can do with
partner when you use hypnosis at home. We're going to
describe some basic types of suggestions, and then you
are going to develop one or two of your own and try
them out."

Meg and I exchanged intrigued glances as Carol
continued.

"First, there is the type of suggestion you
experienced last week -- one that stimulates desire.
The subconscious mind takes everything at face value;
if you tell your partner under hypnosis that something
is very sexy to her, it will be. Even something as
commonplace as a fire hydrant can become a highly
erotic image if you suggest to her that it is. As you
all felt last week, desire-enhancing suggestions are
very powerful."

I had to agree with that one; the suggestion had
certainly been effective on us.

"Another type of suggestion with good erotic potential
is one that manipulates physical sensations. You may
have heard of people using hypnosis for pain
management during dental procedures, for example.
Hypnosis can be used in those cases to lessen
sensation, but it can also be used to heighten it."
As Carol finished her statement, Jim reached over
silently and stroked her left arm. Carol's eyes
opened wide at his touch and she drew in a sharp
breath. "For example," she continued in a labored
tone, "one of Jim's suggestions was that my left arm
has become an erogenous zone. Whenever he ... oooh ...
touches my arm ... oooooh ..."

"Her subconscious causes her to react as if I'd
touched her somewhere much more intimate," Jim
concluded for her, still lightly stroking her arm.
"You can also use suggestion to make the touch more or
less sensitive. For instance, I suggested that a
touch on her elbow would be twice as erotic as
anywhere else on the arm." With that, he tweaked the
point of her elbow between his fingers.

"Yes!" Carol gasped heavily, the truth of Jim's
statement evident in her face. "Yes, it is."

I felt Meg's hand pressing against my thigh and
noticed that once again I had a first class hard-on in
progress. I wondered how far they would take the
demonstration.

"This is a great suggestion for a number of different
situations," Jim continued. "Believe it or not, it is
possible with practice to bring make your partner come
just by casual touch this way." Looking at Carol's
face, I had no trouble believing him. Rather than
prove it, though, Jim stopped stroking his wife's arm.

She paused a few moments to regain her composure, then
continued the talk.
"Another, closely related technique is to invoke what
we like to call body memory. Just as your mind can
recall facts, sounds, and events, your subconscious
can also recall physical sensations."

"A posthypnotic suggestion can cause you to experience
those sensations again at a later time and place," Jim
added. "Like this."

On the word 'this', Carol closed her eyes and leaned
back against the wall. Her arms dropped loosely to
her sides and she sighed contentedly. "For our last
anniversary, Jim gave me a full day at Elizabeth
Arden," she explained. "It was wonderful. Right now
I'm re-experiencing the full body massage."

"This isn't a full-blown hallucination," Jim added.
"Carol is fully aware of where she really is and what
she is really doing."

"That's right," she agreed. "But at the same time,
I'm getting the physical sensation of a skilled
masseur working on me. I can feel the warmth of the
massage oil, the pressure of his hands, the softness
of the towel over my bottom. And my body is relaxing
in response, at least as much as it can while I'm
standing here talking to you."

She certainly looked relaxed. Then Jim snapped his
fingers and Carol stood up straight again, the
playback apparently over.

"That was a relatively modest demonstration of body
memory," she said. "But with practice, you can make
it work for any memorable physical experience." Her
tone of voice made it quite clear that we could take
"any" literally.

Carol cleared her throat before continuing. "And
finally, the one I suspect you've all been wondering
about." She stepped back against the wall again and
nodded to Jim.

"Yes, Virginia," he said, "you can use hypnosis to
induce an orgasm."

The effect on Carol was electrifying: her thighs
closed down tight and her arms pressed folded closely
together under her breasts. She began to pant loudly,
then progressed into moaning through a slack jaw. All
of a sudden she threw her head back and cried out
something unintelligible. She rocked back and forth a
few times, then fell to her knees with a heavy, happy
sigh.

"The subconscious can control almost any bodily
function," Jim explained while Carol recovered, "even
those that we think of as involuntary. Before you get
grandiose ideas, though, let me tell you right off
that it takes a very experienced subject to be able to
orgasm on command. Don't even try it until you are
both doing well with the simpler suggestions."

"Besides," Carol remarked, "There's something a little
hollow about a climax induced by nothing more than
hypnotic suggestion. To me, it's like cheating at
Solitaire; you might win, but it doesn't mean as much
because it came too easily." We all groaned at the
unintended pun.

"In fact," Jim added, "this would be a good time to
admit that I cheated with that last demonstration.
Carol and I have experimented before with a purely
physical orgasm, and frankly the results have been
underwhelming. So to make the demonstration a little
more dramatic, I added some body memory elements to
the suggestion: I told her that the next time I said
the word 'orgasm', she would actually experience all
the physical sensations that accompanied her last
orgasm. The use of body memory along with the
autonomic control gives a better result than just
saying, 'You will have an orgasm.'"

Carol had one more point to add. "Another thing you
should make note of on that last suggestion is that it
wasn't left open-ended. Jim specifically said that I
would respond the next time he said the word 'orgasm'.
If he had simply said, 'When I say the word 'orgasm'
you will have one,' I'd be passed out on the floor by
now from the exertion. That may sound pretty erotic
to some of you but trust me, it gets old fast. Always
think about that when formulating suggestions.

"Also, be very careful in choosing your language. The
subconscious takes everything you say literally; it
doesn't process slang, euphemisms, sarcasm, or humor
the way the conscious mind does. A suggestion like,
'The sound of my voice makes you hot,' might get your
partner to take her clothes off, but she won't be
feeling very amorous if she's sweating like an ox and
guzzling ice water. Using the clinical terms for your
genitals may seem cold and unsexy now, ladies, but
it's better than having your man get an erection
whenever he spots your cat."

We all had a good laugh, but the point was well taken.
Carol reminded us again about some of the basic rules
we had discussed at the previous class, then announced
that we would now try an erotic suggestion of our own
devising.

"Use your imagination," she urged us. "Ladies, don't
be shy -- if there's something you want to try, tell
him now."

I looked at Meg. "Any preferences?"

"Surprise me," she said, lying down on the mat.

I had a pretty good idea in mind already, so I said
the magic words, "Goodnight, Gracie," and watched her
fade out. I took her through the usual deepeners,
making sure she was way under. After all the earlier
practice, the words flowed straight from memory to
mouth; I fancied I was getting pretty good at this.
Since the trigger suggestion had worked so well, I
decided to frame my new suggestion in much the same
way.

"Meg," I said softly, "I want you to think back to
last Monday afternoon, when you were practicing your
trance and I brought you to orgasm. Did you enjoy
that experience?"

"Oh, yes," she breathed.

"Would you like to experience that again?"

"Yes, please."

"As you wish, darling. Your body remembers all of the
sensations, all of the feelings, all of the sights and
sounds and smells, of that experience. Your body
remembers, Meg, and when I give you the signal you
will experience the relaxation, the pleasure, and the
orgasm in every detail, as though it were happening
again. You will again feel the softness of the bed
beneath you, the sexy smoothness of your silk robe
against freshly showered skin. You will again hear my
voice and relax, just as you did Monday. You will
again feel the weight of my body on yours as I spread
your legs apart and position myself between them. You
will again feel my kisses on your thighs and your
groin, my tongue touching all of your private parts
one by one. You again will feel yourself growing more
and more aroused, even as your body relaxes under my
touch, and you again will react exactly as you did
that day. You will let the pleasure build inside you
until you have an orgasm, and when you do that orgasm
will be as strong and as satisfying as any you can
remember having. All of this will happen when I give
you the signal. Do you understand, Meg?"

"Yes, Patrick."

"Good. The signal that will cause you to re-
experience that memory is the word 'anticlimax.'
Later tonight, when you are fully awake and alert, I
will say the word 'anticlimax' to you and that will be
your signal. Your body will respond automatically to
that signal, just as it does when I give you the
signal to go back into trance. You won't have to
think about it, you won't want to resist, you will
simply allow yourself to experience those wonderful
feelings again. Okay?"

"Okay."

It was a pretty complicated suggestion, so I went over
it with her a few more times. Once I was sure I'd
covered all the bases, I woke Meg up. Her eyes
fluttered open and she sat up. "What now?"

I shrugged. "We wait for further instructions, I
guess."

Carol noticed Meg's rising and came over to check on
us. "Done already?"

We both nodded. "What's next?" Meg asked.

"That's up the two of you," she replied. "You've got
ten or fifteen minutes to kill while I finish up with
the others. After that, just a few closing remarks
and we'll call it a night."

Meg looked at me expectantly after Carol left us.
"Well, aren't you going to try out whatever surprise
you've planted in my psyche?"

"I thought I'd save it for at home, when we're alone."

"Oooooh," she cooed. "It must be a goody. What is
it?"

I was feeling playful. "Don't you remember? I didn't
tell you not to."

"No, I don't," Meg complained after thinking. "I
guess I was too out of it to remember. But you don't
want to do it here, so it must be pretty explicit."

I just shrugged and smiled mysteriously. "Could be."

"It's a blowjob, isn't it? You're going to say a
magic word and I'll feel compelled to go down on you."

"You do that anyway when I ask nicely."

"A strip tease, then."

"Nope."

"Lap dance?"

"No," I laughed. "But thanks for all the good ideas."
That got me a raspberry and a light smack across the
leg. The guessing game might have continued, but just
then we both heard a loud 'Whoo!' from nearby:

Tamika was awake, we saw, and had a shocked look on
her face. Her companion held one of her hands and was
watching her face. He petted Tamika's hand lightly
and she whooped again, her mouth falling open and eyes
bulging. Her other hand dove between her legs as if
she had dropped an ice cube down there. A few more
light strokes and her expression gradually changed
from surprise to lust.

"That looks like fun," Meg remarked, but I didn't
bite.

The other couples were finishing up soon, too. One
woman giggled and squeezed her legs together every
time her mate said a trigger word. Another seemed
unable to take her eyes off her husband's crotch. The
most surprising moment for me came when a willowy
blonde -- I think her name was Pam -- stood up, turned
to face the whole class, and lifted her top. She
stood there, bare breasts exposed, for a good five-
count before covering up and sitting back down. Her
stunned expression told us that she hadn't planned on
doing that; her erect nipples when she did it again a
few seconds later told us she was getting quite a
charge out of it.

"Sure you want to wait until we get home?" Meg asked
again.

"Would you rather do it now?" The other couples'
antics had gone a long way toward easing my
inhibitions; compared to Pam, what I'd set up for Meg
seemed relatively tame.

"Why not?"

"Okay," I replied, feigning reluctance. "After what
we just saw, though, I'm afraid this may be a bit of
an ... anticlimax."

As I expected, Meg's body relaxed on cue. I was able
to catch her as she pitched forward and hold her more
or less upright against me. Her eyes were closed, but
I sensed she was still awake.

It didn't take Meg long to realize what was happening.
Her eyes came open for a second, just as they had on
Monday. "You bastard," she murmured, and then
programming took over; her eyes closed down with a
contented sigh.

"Relax and enjoy the ride," I told her, easing her
down onto the mat. The first moans came shortly
after, and that brought Carol over to our side.

"I see you've found something to do," she observed,
winking.

"Body memory," I explained. "We tried a little
independent study activity a few days ago."

Carol looked closely at Meg. Was that a gleam of
excitement in her eye? Meg's legs had spread, and she
was moaning freely as her body reacted to the memory
of my lips and tongue. "It appears you've learned
well," she allowed.

Meg's physical responses matched what I remembered
from Monday, sound for sound. Her moaning grew louder
and faster as she became more and more aroused. I
watched alternating between fascination and a strange
kind of envy --part of me wished that I were the one
draped across the floor wallowing in sexual bliss. I
had a feeling we were beginning to attract attention,
but other than a quick peek in Carol's direction I
didn't dare check to see who else might be looking.
The crescendo continued to build just as I remembered
it until Meg went over the edge into an orgasm that,
from the looks of her, was every bit as powerful as
the original.

When it was finally over and Meg's labored breathing
was the only sound I could hear, I looked around:
Carol, Jim, and all of our classmates were staring,
spellbound, at Meg's quivering form. Soon Meg opened
her eyes, noticed the crowd, and realized she was the
center of attention.

"Oh, shit!" she groaned, dropping back down to the mat
and covering her reddening face with her hands.

There was a quick wave of nervous laughter, then Carol
and Jim began to applaud. The rest of the group
joined in quickly. Meg started to laugh too, and soon
her hands came away from her face to reveal a healthy
grin. "I'll get you for this," she promised me as I
helped her back up to a sitting position.

"Me?" I mock protested. "I'm the one who wanted to
wait until we got home, remember?"

Meg hugged me tightly. "We can still do it again at
home, right?" she whispered hotly into my ear.

"Any time you want."

Circumstances conspire now and again to frustrate us.
So it was that weekend. Meg was on call and ended up
working both days because the MRI tech who was
supposed to be on duty quit suddenly. I found out
Saturday night that some clueless VP at our firm had
graciously agreed to let a client push up a deadline
by three weeks, which pretty much killed my schedule
too.

By Tuesday afternoon I was sufficiently caught up that
I could seriously entertain the idea of going home a
little early. I was tired and burned out, and I
hadn't seen Meg much since Friday. It was 3:20, so I
dialed Meg's cell phone.

She answered on the first ring. "Hi, honey."

"Hey. You almost home?"

"Almost. Why?"

"I'm having evil thoughts."

I could imagine the sly smile coming over her face.
"Oh really? Anything you'd like to share?"

"Call me when you get home, okay?"

"Sure thing."

A long fifteen minutes later, the phone rang. I made
sure that our home number was on the display before
answering. "Hello there," I said. "What phone are
you using?"

"The bedroom phone. Why?"

"Are you laying down?"

"No, I'm sitting on the edge." She chuckled softly,
then in a sexy voice she added, "Do you want to know
what I'm wearing?"

"First things first," I replied. "Put me on
speakerphone, then lie down on the bed."

I took a quick peek around to see who was within
earshot. Greg was out at an appointment; Barbara was
on the phone herself and looked pretty absorbed. A
clicking noise told me Meg had switched to
speakerphone.

"Okay ... now what?" Her voice sounded hollow and
distant thanks to the speakerphone.

"Goodnight Gracie." I listened for some kind of
response, but there was none -- the trigger must have
worked, I reasoned, or Meg would have come back with
some kind of remark. "That's it, darling, relax for
me. Slide way, way down into your deepest, sweetest
hypnotic trance for me." Without being able to see
her I had no way to gauge her depth, so I repeated
variations on that deepening theme for a minute or so
to be safe. Then I put my 'evil thoughts' into
action.

"Meg," I said in what I was beginning to call my
hypnotist's voice, "when was the last time we made
love?"

"Saturday morning," she answered sleepily.

"That's right, Saturday morning. Over three days ago.
That's a long time for us, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

"A very long time," I agreed. "So long, in fact, that
it's difficult to imagine going much longer. You're a
healthy young woman with an active libido, Meg. It
isn't natural for you to be deprived of sexual
pleasure for so long. In fact, even now you can feel
the craving for sex beginning to color your thoughts.
Your body wants its pleasure, and it will not be
denied. With every passing minute, your sexual desire
increases. It will not be satisfied until you have
made love with me and we have both had an orgasm. Do
you understand, Meg?"

"I understand."

"Very good. As your desire builds, you may find that
you want to do things to please yourself. You may do
anything you like in that way as long as you don't
leave the house. The energy, the passion, will
continue to build within you right up to the point of
orgasm, but you will not have an orgasm until I tell
you to. Is that also clear?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. I am going to count to three now. When
you hear me reach the count of three, you will turn
off the speakerphone, resume sitting on the edge of
the bed, and awaken. Your conscious mind will not
remember this call at all, but your subconscious will
remember and follow all of my instructions. One ... two
... three."

I heard a faint rustling sound, then a click as the
speakerphone was shut off. I imagined Meg sitting up
on the bed with a blank expression, then suddenly
snapping awake. Sure enough, a few seconds later the
phone rang again and our home number showed on the
display.

"Hi, Meg," I answered in my best nonchalant voice.

"Hi again. I'm home ... what's up?"

"I was thinking about sneaking out of here and taking
you out for an early dinner."

"I like the way you think," she responded. "In fact,
I know a way we can work up a nice, healthy appetite
first."

I could hear the lust in her voice already; this was
going to be fun. "I'm sure you do. See you soon,
love."

I almost made it, too. Within 20 paces of the
elevators, I turned a corner and ran smack into Marty,
my boss.

"There you are!" he said. "I've been looking all over
for you. I need you on a conference call with
Henderson and company."

Henderson was the client who'd screwed up my weekend.
My heart sank. "When?"

"Now -- Shirley's got 'em on hold for me."

I put on my best I'm-dealing-with-another-crisis-
right-now face and checked my watch for effect. "Can
we do it tomorrow instead?"

"I tried that already." I suspected as much -- Marty's
a pretty decent guy and hates like hell to ask anyone
to jump through a hoop. "They say it's only a few
questions, but they've got trades waiting on the
answers."

Big sigh. "Let's do it, then."

As often happens in these cases, a few questions led
to a few follow-up questions, which led to several
other people joining the call. By the time we had
everyone convinced that the new drawings really did
depict what the client had asked for, an hour had gone
by. The second Marty hung up the phone I bolted for
the door and didn't look back. Still, by the time I
got home it had been over 90 minutes since I'd talked
to Meg.

I opened the door slowly, not sure what to expect.
From the living room I heard grunting and moaning,
loud and insistent. I locked the door and headed that
way.

I was totally unprepared for what I found there. Meg
lay buck naked on the couch, her knees drawn up, one
hand at her crotch with three fingers buried in her
slit. Her other hand was working at a breast,
squeezing furiously. I must have made a noise,
because her eyes wrenched open and fixed on me.
"There you are!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," I began, but got no farther. Meg bounded
up off the couch and body-checked me into the bookcase
behind me. She pressed her sweating, heaving body
against me, put her hands on either side of my face,
and kissed me harder than I've ever been kissed
before. For a split second I flashed back to an old
horror movie and imagined Meg was some kind of demon
trying to suck the soul out of me. I decided I
deserved at least that.

"You're just in time," Meg said intently after
breaking off her lip lock. I felt her hands begin
clawing at my belt buckle. "Let's see what you
brought home for me." Before she was done speaking,
my pants were hitting the floor and her hand was
reaching through the front slit in my briefs. I was
about two-thirds erect and growing. "Attaboy," she
said, her hand starting to knead my burgeoning member.
"That's just what I need, lover. Just exactly what I
need." I cupped a hand over one of her breasts, but
she pushed the hand aside. "No need for that, I'm
way, way ahead of you. But I know just how to help
you catch up."

Dropping to her knees, Meg yanked my briefs down and
squatted a little, putting her face at the same level
as my cock. One hand reached up behind it and cupped
my balls while the other worked to spread my legs
apart some. She started kissing the sides of my shaft
while her finger traced up and down the back of my
scrotum, stroking that highly sensitive line leading
backward. I moaned helplessly as my brain turned to
mush and my cock felt like it grew another two inches.

"Ah, he likes that," she remarked between kisses.
"Let's see how he likes this." Her tongue reached out
and slowly, sensuously traveled up and down the
underside of my shaft. My legs got weak; I grabbed
onto the bookcase for support. Meg chuckled again as
her free hand traveled up and around my thigh, then
spread out over most of my buttock and squeezed. My
body told me I was about 20 seconds away from one hell
of an orgasm, less if I didn't get that tongue off my
shaft.

Summoning all of my strength, I grabbed her under the
armpits and hauled her back upward, spinning around at
the same time. Now it was Meg jammed against the
bookcase, and at almost the perfect height. I jacked
her up a little more and positioned my cock between
her legs. She got the message and reached down
between us to guide me into her as I lowered her down.
Her legs crossed behind my back and her arms went
straight out to hold onto the bookcase. I put both
hands on her butt and pulled her to me, working her up
and down on my shaft. Meg picked up on my rhythm and
started working with me, using her grip on the
bookcase to help lift and drop, lift and drop. Her
breasts bobbed tantalizingly close to my face, but I
couldn't quite reach them without breaking contact and
I wasn't about to do that.

Meg was babbling incoherently. Her pelvic muscles
squeezed down against my iron rod. I felt my entire
body tensing: T minus 3 seconds, I guessed. I held
out as long as I could, then just as my cock burst I
grunted, "Meg, come now."

My eyes rolled back into my head as I came, feeling
and hearing Meg at the same time. My arms and legs
were locked while my cocked pumped and fired. At some
point Meg started to relax against me, and I somehow
managed a controlled fall backwards onto the living
room floor before passing out.

When I came to, Meg was unconscious on the floor next
to me. Creaking a little, I rolled partway over and
kissed her forehead. I went on to kiss her nose, her
closed eyes, her cheek, then as I reached her lips
they parted and welcomed me. We kissed slowly,
lovingly, for who knows how long. Finally we came up
for air.

"So," Meg sighed. "Are you hungry yet?"

By Thursday afternoon Meg was thoroughly keyed up.
The pizza delivery guy was right on my heels, and I
was amused to see that Meg had already set the table
with disposable plates and cups. "Quick, easy
cleanup," she explained.

"A little eager, are we?" I teased.

"You bet I am," she replied. "Tonight it's my turn to
have fun."

I wasn't quite sure what to make of that. I thought
I'd been pretty careful about making sure Meg enjoyed
our encounters. True, I had really left her hanging
on Tuesday afternoon, but that had been an accident.
I'd confessed to the whole thing over dinner that
night; Meg was pretty annoyed at first, but in the end
she said that all was forgiven. Was it really?

My face must have given me away. "That didn't come
out right," she said quickly, dropping her pizza and
fixing her eyes on mine. "The things we've done so
far have been ... intense. It excites me knowing that
with two simple words you can put me under a spell and
make my body do these incredible things. I love
giving up control to you."

"But ..." I prompted, knowing there had to be one coming
soon.

Meg thought a little more before continuing. "But, so
far it's been one-sided. I want to know what it's
like to put you under my spell and watch your body
obey my commands."

"I understand, honey," I said truthfully. "Last week
when you were responding to the 'anticlimax' trigger,
I was a little bit jealous of how easily you were able
to just let yourself go. That's something I want to
experience first hand."

"You will," she promised. "I owe you a payback or
two," she added, grinning slyly.

"Be gentle with me," I pleaded jokingly.

"Eat your dinner," she replied sternly. "You're going
to need your strength later."
We ate quickly and cleaned up even more so, no major
feat considering all we had to do was put away the
leftover pizza and toss everything into the trash can.
We were underway soon after, in plenty of time to get
to class.

On the way over, I wondered to myself what suggestions
Meg might use once she had me under hypnosis. I
floated an innocent query, but she wasn't talking.
"You'll find out in due time," she teased.

Part of me kept thinking about Tuesday. She'd used
the word 'payback' at dinner; I wondered if she had a
big-time tease in mind, something like what I had
accidentally done to her. The idea was actually a
little arousing, but then in a flash I had an
interesting idea of my own -- sort of a preemptive
strike.

I looked over at Meg. She was sitting in the
passenger seat quietly, looking out the side window.
"Goodnight Gracie," I said.

Meg's body slumped down in the seat. Her seat belt
held her more or less upright, but her arms hung
limply from her sides and her head flopped to the side
against the headrest. "Meg," I said quickly but
deliberately, "listen carefully. Hypnosis is very
sexy to you, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," she answered distantly.

"That's right. In fact, Meg, you will discover
tonight that hypnotizing me is a very powerful
aphrodisiac for you. Seeing me go into trance is the
sexiest, most arousing thing you can ever imagine.
Every time you hypnotize me, you will feel a rush of
sexual excitement at the power it gives you. That
excitement will continue to increase, leading to a
natural desire to use your hypnotic power to seduce me
and bring pleasure to us both. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. At the count of three you will awaken. Your
conscious mind will not remember anything about this
conversation, or even that you were in trance at all
tonight, but your subconscious will remember and you
will react accordingly. One ... two ... three." I kept
my eyes fixed on the road, but in my peripheral vision
I saw Meg's head jerk as she awoke, then settle back
into its original position. "You okay?" I asked.

"Fine," she answered off-handedly. "Just wool-
gathering, I guess."

Inwardly, I grinned.


As usual, all of the students were settled in at least
15 minutes ahead of our scheduled start time. "The
great thing about this class," Carol remarked wryly
when she and Jim entered the dojo and saw all of us
waiting, "is that we never have a problem with late
arrivals." The ensuing group chuckle was interesting,
in that it had a mixture of nervous and eager
components to it.

"We don't need much in the way of preliminaries this
week," Carol began after noting the attendance in her
book. "We'll start out pretty much like last week,
except in the opposite roles. Men, go ahead and get
nice and comfortable and start to relax. Ladies, you
will choose an induction and guide him into a nice,
deep state of hypnosis. Once you've got the guys nice
and deep, we'll go over how to establish a trigger and
reinforce it, just like they did with you last week.
Any questions from last week before we start?"

Pam, the lanky blonde who had been flashing us the
previous week, put her hand up. "Are these triggers
permanent?"

"Good question. The answer, as in so many cases when
you're dealing with the mind, is that it depends on
the individual. Post hypnotic suggestions have a lot
in common with classical conditioning, in that the
learned responses have to be reinforced periodically
or they will be forgotten. Exactly how long that
takes depends on how strongly the suggestion was
reinforced, and how willing the subject is to respond.
For example ..." she looked over at me. "Patrick, what
was the trigger phrase you used last week to put Meg
in trance?"

Without thinking, I answered. "Goodnight, Gracie."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Meg's body sag and
realized my mistake just in time to catch her and ease
her down onto the mat.

"Very good," Carol remarked. "When was the last time
you used that trigger with her?"

"About half an hour ago," I answered sheepishly. "In
the car on the way here."

Carol grinned. "Were there other times between last
Thursday and tonight that you used the trigger?"

"A couple." I felt the blood creeping into my cheeks
as I thought about Tuesday afternoon again.

"Okay," Carol said. "As you can see, if you practice
using the trigger it remains strong. Is there anyone
here who has not used their trigger at least once
since last week?"

Nobody raised a hand. I was amused to note a couple
of the women looking at their mates suspiciously.

"Very good," she affirmed. "Just for argument's sake,
though, suppose one of you hadn't. The chances are
good that with no reinforcement for a week, you might
find that just saying the trigger is no longer enough
to get the quick response you were getting last week.
She may react slowly, perhaps going into a light
trance only. You may have to say the trigger several
times, or start an induction patter or deepener in
order to persuade your partner to let go to you.
Leave it unused for a longer time and the response
will continue to weaken until the trigger has no
affect at all. With a little practice, though, you
get the result we saw with Meg. You might want to
wake her up now, by the way."

I grinned and woke Meg while Pam asked a follow-up
question. "So if you don't use it, it wears off after
a while?"

"That's right."

"So how often do you have to practice to keep that
from happening?"

Carol shrugged. "Again, it depends. For most people,
a couple of times a week is a good idea for a new
trigger. Once it's been well established, you can
probably ease off a little without losing much
effectiveness -- say, down to once a week, and then
maybe twice a month. Everyone is different,
circumstances change, so there's no hard and fast
rule. Trial and error will tell you what works for
you.

"But don't let yourselves get hung up on that," she
continued. "Very few of the triggers you use will be
things you want to keep long term. Your rapid
induction trigger, and perhaps one or two favorite
tricks that you both enjoy, would be all that you
really want to hold onto. Use your imagination to
come up with new things rather than repeating the same
old suggestions. Make love without hypnosis as well --
variety is still the spice of life."

With no more questions forthcoming, Carol instructed
the women to begin their inductions. Meg leafed
through the booklet of inductions with a gleam in her
eye while I settled myself down with extra mats under
my head and feet.

Meg started out with a standard progressive relaxation
induction. Starting at my toes, she told me to relax
each body part in turn, working her way up through the
legs, stomach, chest, arms, neck, etc. I tried my
best to follow her instructions, but something wasn't
right. Beyond the basic stillness and a general
feeling of laziness, I wasn't getting anywhere. Meg
tried harder, making her voice deep and smooth and
sexy, but it didn't seem to help.

I could tell she was getting frustrated when I heard
Carol come over. "How are we doing here?"

"It's not working," Meg complained.

"What are you feeling, Patrick?"

I opened my eyes to answer. "Something isn't quite
right, but I don't know what. I'm trying to focus,
trying to make myself relax, but I only get so far and
can't seem to keep going."

"Don't worry about it," she replied. "Start over for
me."

I shrugged and closed my eyes again, and Meg started
reading the induction script again. After a minute or
two, Carol stopped her.

"How does that feel, Patrick?"

"About the same. I can tell my body is relaxing, but
only to a certain point."

"Okay," she said. "Let's make a couple of changes.
Meg, start with your voice. It sounds like you're
trying very hard to keep it smooth and low. That
creates tension, which Patrick can hear. Try to just
relax along with him, even let yourself slip into a
light trance if you want to; the relaxation will come
out in your voice and help put him at ease too.

"As for you, Patrick, I suspect you're thinking too
much. I'm catching some eye movements that look as
though you are trying to evaluate how well you are
doing. Are you?"

"I guess so," I admitted. "I'm just trying to help."

"Don't help," she said firmly. "That's not your job.
In fact, let's give you something else to do." Carol
left us long enough to pick up her organizer and
retrieve a small laminated card from a section in the
middle. She handed the card to Meg. "Try this one,
it's very good for situations like this."

Meg took a few minutes to get familiar with the text
on the card, then started talking. "Close your eyes
now, Patrick, and just allow yourself to be as lazy as
you can be. Listen quietly to the sound of my voice,
and while you're listening quietly to the sound of my
voice concentrate for a few minutes on hour breathing.
Breathe slowly and steadily, just as though you were
sound asleep, or pretending to be sound asleep.
Imagine, as you breathe slowly and steadily, just how
comfortable you might look while you're relaxing there
on the floor, using the power of your mind to do
whatever has to happen to make you look even more
relaxed, all the while still thinking about your
breathing, making quite sure that each breath in lasts
the same length of time as the last breath in, and
each breath out lasts the same length of time as the
last breath out. And while you're thinking about your
breathing, also notice the weight of your head against
the pillow, and keep listening to the sound of my
voice."

This was getting complicated. I tried very hard to
focus simultaneously on Meg's voice, on the feel of
the mat under my head, and on trying to look as
relaxed as possible, and it occurred to me that I
might be forgetting something.

"And while you're listening quietly to the sound of my
voice," Meg continued, "it may be that you'll realize
you've forgotten to think about your breathing. But
that's all right, you can just simply start thinking
about your breathing again while you're listening
quietly to the sound of my voice and what I'm saying
to you here. In psychology, there's a rule called
seven plus or minus two. That means that most people
can think of seven things at once, plus or minus two.
So you should be able to think of at least five things
all at the same time: the sound of my voice, the
steadiness of your breathing, the weight of your head
against the pillow, and how you might look from the
outside as you relax. That's four things, so you can
think of all four of those things while at the same
time you remember the sound of the music Carol used
the first night when she took us all into hypnosis.
Remember that strange sound that flowed through you,
captivated you, and carried you off into deeper
relaxation. That's five things now, Patrick. And I
wonder if you can think about those five things and
then, at the same time, notice the way your feet feel
on the extra mat underneath them, and perhaps how your
arms feel resting against the floor. That's seven
things now, darling: the sound of my voice, the
weight of your head against the pillow, the music
Carol played the first night, the way you look while
you're relaxing, and your breathing, and your arms,
and your feet on the mat. I wonder if you can now add
an eighth thing into all of that. I wonder if your
mind is powerful enough to think of seven plus one
things, adding in, perhaps, an awareness of the
temperature of the room, and then just testing to see
whether you can add yet another input to your senses,
so that you're thinking of nine things all at once,
thinking about all those eight inputs to your senses
and then maybe adding an awareness of the way your
eyes feel while you're thinking about all those other
things: the weight of your head, your breathing, the
music, how you look from the outside, the temperature,
your feet, your arms, the sound of my voice, and how
your eyes feel..."

She kept on going, but I was too preoccupied to keep
processing the words. My mind was awhirl trying to
juggle all those different memories, awarenesses and
thoughts -- which, I would realize later, was the whole
point. I kept trying my best to remain aware of all
of those things while Meg spoke. Finally I gave up,
dropped every thought except one: how good it felt to
relax, just relax and think of nothing whatsoever ...

"... Wake up now, darling."

My eyes opened and there was Meg, her eyes shining
down at me. "Was I --"

"Oh, yes," she said. "Lights out, darling." My eyes
fell closed again and I felt myself drifting away.

"Wake up!"

My eyes jerked open again, but it took me a second or
two to before I could comprehend what was happening.
"Wow," I started to say, but then I heard Meg's voice
and felt myself dropping into the darkness again.

Things are kind of a blur at that point. I know I
woke up several times. Well, my eyes opened several
times, anyway -- after the first couple I don't think I
was ever completely awake. I remember seeing Meg's
face hovering over me, and it seemed as though it was
coming closer and closer each time I saw her. Her
face appeared to be flushed, her nostrils flaring, and
on some level I remember thinking that she was
enjoying this a lot.

I remember a tugging sensation around my waist, and
the feel of warm vinyl against my buttocks. The next
time I opened my eyes Meg's face was more distant, as
if she were standing over me instead of sitting close
by. I had a tremendous hard-on and a sensation of
fingers playing with my balls. Realization started to
set in. "Meg, what the h"

"Lights out, darling..."

The next thing I knew, Meg was on top of me. I was
fully erect and buried to the hilt. Her face looked
wild as she rode me, rocking on my hips. I opened my
mouth to say something, but Meg spoke again and I
passed out.

At least a half dozen times I'd find myself waking up
to the sight and feel of Meg riding me hard. I'd
start to move, to speak, to do anything, but as soon
as Meg saw me she'd say "Lights out, darling" and I'd
fall back into nothingness.

Finally I woke to the distinct sounds of Meg having a
really big orgasm. Her head was thrown back and her
chest heaved as she grunted her way through it. I
could feel the contractions in her groin and for a few
moments I completely forgot that we were in the middle
of a class. Meg recovered enough to look down at me,
and her eyes captured mine. I thought she was about
to put me to sleep again, but instead she gave me a
different command: "Come for me." That sent me over
the edge into spasms of my own. Meg stayed with me,
riding me as I bucked underneath her, milking me for
all I had. When it was over I let myself sink into
the mat, spent. I saw Meg give me one of her
mischievous little smiles as she said the magic words
again and sent me off into oblivion.
I came to this time on my feet, standing in front of a
small pedestal sink and mirror. I recognized the room
as a small powder room off the main room we were using
for class. Meg was behind me, looking over my
shoulder with a huge grin on her face. "Can you say
'somnambulist'?" she teased. "I knew you could!"

All I could do was laugh. "Have we been kicked out of
class yet?"

"Not quite. Carol called a discreet break when she
saw me pulling your pants down. They're waiting for
an 'all clear' signal from us."

We were both clean and dressed, so I volunteered to do
the honors. When I opened the door from the main
training room to the lobby area, my classmates gave me
a standing ovation. At first I wanted to find a
corner and just disappear, but they were all very
good-natured about the unscheduled interruption.
Carol led them all back into the main room for the
rest of class.

While they were getting settled, she took me aside.
"Can I persuade you to share with the class what
suggestions you and Meg were acting out? I've got a
pretty good idea what must have happened, but I think
several of them are interested in hearing it from
you."

I checked with Meg and she didn't object -- "It's a
little late to get modest now" was her reasoning -- so
I took the floor and explained what had happened. I
told them a short version of the Tuesday afternoon
story, emphasizing the suggestions I had made over the
phone and the accidental delay. Then I related the
idea I'd had in the car, and the suggestions I'd given
Meg during the trip.

"It wasn't supposed to turn out like it did," I
explained, silently begging Meg to forgive my latest
hypnotic screw-up. "I had no idea the suggestion
would be that strong." Then, to Meg, I added, "I'm
sorry, honey."

Meg came up and hugged me tightly, which brought
another round of applause from the group. Under cover
of that sound, she whispered a quick message into my
ear: "I'll get you back, my love. Count on it." I
could see the wheels turning when I looked into her
face a moment later.

Carol took over again, running through a review of the
different kinds of erotic suggestions we had discussed
the previous week. "Any questions?"

"Can I make him get hard whenever I want?" Tamika
asked, prompting a buzz of chuckles from the rest of
us.

"Probably. Assuming there isn't a physical problem
that would prevent it, the male erection is a simple
matter of blood flow, which is certainly something the
subconscious mind can control. But you still have to
watch your language -- don't just tell him to 'get
hard', he might just stand there and clench all of his
muscles. Tell him that he will feel highly aroused
and develop a stiff, firm erection. "

"How about delaying his orgasm?" My ears burned as I
heard Meg asking that question.

"You can do that. If you tell Patrick that he won't
be able to have an orgasm until you give him a
trigger, that should be highly effective. There may
be some reluctance at first, but most men are very
willing to accept a suggestion like that, especially
once they realize how much more intense their orgasm
becomes when it finally happens."

Meg nodded thoughtfully. I'm in trouble, I thought to
myself.

With no more questions, it was time for the women to
put their mates back into trance and try their own
erotic suggestions. Meg jumped up first and went over
to Jim. I started to join her, but she waved me away.
They spoke quietly for a few minutes, then Meg gave
him a quick peck on the cheek and came back to me
grinning ear to ear. "Ready?" she asked tauntingly.

"Would it make any difference if I said no?"

"Not really. Lights out, darling..."

I came to in more or less the same position, lying on
my back on the floor. From the various groans and
muted voices around, I could tell that my classmates
were trying out their suggestions. I rose up and
looked around.

Tamika had her man lying on his back and was rubbing
his smooth, bald head with her hands. He was reacting
as if she was actually stroking his cock -- his hips
were gyrating up and down, and I could see the bulge
like a tent pole pushing against the front of his
sweat pants. Pam's companion had a hand inside his
shorts and was clearly pumping himself while she
watched, a satisfied look on her face. The other two
guys were also sporting major wood, it seemed.

Carol saw that I was awake and came over. "Are we
going to see a demonstration?" she asked Meg.

Meg shook her head. "I think I'll let him stew a
while."

Carol nodded, grinning, and called the class back to
attention. She wished us all well in our
relationships, passed out her card in case we wanted
to consult with her in the future, and pronounced
class dismissed.

Meg grabbed the keys out of my hand as we approached
the car. "I'm driving," she said firmly. I agreed
and slid into the passenger seat.

Meg got us on the road quickly. "Have I stewed long
enough yet?" I asked, wondering what she had in store
for me.

That maddening, naughty grin swept over her face one
more time. "I thought you'd never ask," she said.
"Would you like a virtual blowjob?"

My body reacted instantly to Meg's cue. I knew it was
impossible because I was sitting in the car fully
dressed, but I felt the unmistakable sensation of a
soft, moist tongue caressing the sides of my cock. In
a split second I was hard as a post. The sensation
continued and grew. I felt fingers playing with my
balls, lips closing over the tip of my swollen cock
and a tongue playing across the skin. Suction, strong
suction, as my unseen lover took me deep into her
throat.

It was Meg at her artful best, without doubt the most
intense, arousing thing I'd ever felt. That Meg was
not actually sucking me off, but rather sitting in the
driver's seat chuckling as she listened to my moaning
grow more and more out of control, actually made the
situation more erotic for me. "Oh, God," I breathed,
"This is unbelievable!"

"Glad you like it," she said smugly. "Let me know
when you've had enough."

I held out as long as I thought I could, reveling in
the exquisite feelings. Then I felt the telltale
pressure in my groin and knew that I was close to
coming in my pants. "Better stop now, honey," I said,
"or this will be over before we even get home."

"There's no danger of that," she said, and fell silent
for a while.

The trip was taking forever. The sensation in my
genitals kept getting stronger, taking me further and
further into a sexual frenzy, and I was starting to
lose the ability to think clearly. "Come on, Meg," I
pleaded, "You've gotta stop this. I'm gonna cum in my
pants any second!"

"No you won't," she said calmly. "Trust me on that
one."

All I could do was groan loudly as another wave of
incredible, almost painful sensations washed over me.
"Please!" I begged.

Meg put a real hand on my leg, then slipped it over
and gave me a quick stroke across my bulging cock.
"Relax, darling," she said. "You'll be well taken
care of as soon as we get home.

"Incidentally, I've got a few stops to make on the
way..."


-wg
3/16/00
NOTE: The "Hand Breathing" and "Seven Plus or Minus
Two" inductions used in this story came from the web
site of UK hypnotherapist Terence Watts
(http://www.hypnosense.com).

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