From louvre@dido.fa.indiana.eduFri Nov 10 16:30:08 1995 Date: Fri, 10 Nov 1995 16:08:24 -0500 From: The Louvre To: orelious@ICSI.Net Subject: Re: request (auto response) Path: usenet.ucs.indiana.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!news.uoregon.edu!usenet.eel.ufl.edu!news-feed-1.peachnet.edu!gatech!bloom-beacon.mit.edu!xlink.net!snert!spectre.ka.sub.org!postmaster Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories From: "Thomas Baetzler" Date: Sat, 10 Dec 94 06:50:27 +0100 Reply-To: "Thomas Baetzler" MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Subject: Repost: My Darling Hypnotist (mf, fetish, bdsm, mindcontrol) Message-ID: <2270152@spectre.ka.sub.org> Lines: 618 Hi, here's some stuff my private archive. I didn't write these stories, I'm just reposting these in an effort to raise the signal/noise ratio on this group. I you are concerned about the state of alt.sex.stories, and wish to change it, please consider this: - post *stories only* to alt.sex.stories. Post "Me-Toos", discussion or whatever to alt.sex.stories.d if you don't want to send it as email. - if you post stories, you might want to set the Followup-To: to alt.sex.stories.d or poster, to redirect replies to the discussion forum or to your email. - play by the rules. You'd appreciate it from the next guy. Thanks for your consideration! -snip-------------------------------------------------------------------- From: blemieux@nyx.cs.du.edu Newsgroup: milnet.ALT.SEX.STORIES Message-ID: 1993Dec21.142557.4775@mnemosyne.cs.du.edu Date: 21 Dec 93 14:25:57 Subject: My Darling Hypnotist (story) [mf,fetish,bondage,mc] ....... DISCLAIMER, DATCLAIMER, POLICY NOTICE AND DAMAGE WAIVER ...... It has been all I can do just to get these stories posted. Over the last months, I have been buried in requests for all or parts of my various stories. While I appreciate the implied (and explicit) compliments, I simply don't have time to accomodate requests for copies, chapters, etc. There are several story archives out there, some of which have my stuff on them, if you're sufficiently desperate. Once again, my apologies. Any similarity between story characters and actual persons; living, dead, or undead, is unintentional and purely coincidental... honest. No, really! The same goes for any company names you might THINK you've seen before- pure happenstance. After all, I would never stoop so low as to shamelessly plug a vendor that I thought was particularly worthy, such as BR Creations, JT Toys / The Stockroom, Remawear, or Sealwear- no, that would never do. Note: this story may or may not include sex, bondage, discipline, and other alternative forms of sexual expression. If the presence, or lack of, a particular topic is likely to offend you, hit `n' right now. Criticism on writing style and technique (what little there is of it), are very welcome by e-mail. Flames will be carefully downloaded to my home machine, printed out, and used by my Rottweiler for short-lived entertainment. Enjoy . ............................. cut here ................................. My Darling Hypnotist Part 1 of 2 Normally, I don't expect to see pink elephants in the kitchen. I had just crawled out of bed, and was groggily thinking about hazelnut coffee as I padded to the kitchen, when I looked up to see an elephant- a pink fucking elephant fer chrissakes, standing up like a human being, and wearing an apron. Pink. Bright, Mary Kay pink. It had the teapot in one uh, foot? Now I knew damn well that elephants can't hold things in their feet. It appeared to be heating water on the stove. For tea. I don't think they drink tea, either. Mandy did it as a prank I guess, or to prove how much her control had improved. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Mandy and I had been playing around with hypnotism for several months, off and on. She had introduced me to it's erotic possibilities by demonstrating on Flora while we were on vacation in England. Flora is "our other third" as we like to say. She had been hypnotizing her for a long time before I moved in, and it took a while before I was comfortable even attempting it. The idea of losing that much control scared the hell out of me. "Besides," said I in my ignorance and pride, "I'm not sure I _can_ be hypnotized- I'm not a very trusting person." "Are you saying you don't trust me?" Mandy had shot back. "No! Of course not, but..." "Then why not at least let me try?" I gave in eventually, of course. And I'm glad I did. We still don't play with it very often, partly because I'm afraid of losing touch with reality, and partly because it's that much more special for it's rarity. So anyway, I walked into the kitchen one morning, and there was this pink elephant standing there in front of the stove. And I don't mean any normal elephant, either. This one was about six feet tall standing on it's hind legs, and wore a frilly apron. And like I said, it looked like it had been making tea or something. Then the damn thing spoke to me. "Oh, excuse me," it said, or something like that. I don't remember exactly. I was feeling a little distracted, understandably. Then it turned and walked out the other door into the dining room. Needless to say, I was a wreck. I didn't like the idea of hallucinations at that point- they gave me the idea that something in my head was broken. But my curiosity is legend among those who know me, so naturally, I followed it out into the dining room. It was nowhere to be seen. At that point, I discovered an urgent need to be sitting down. I was shaking. I was still shaking when Mandy walked in from the hall, resplendent in an exotic rubber outfit that I had never seen, and looking more desirable than ever. Her black patent leather boots had impossibly high heels, perhaps over seven inches. For the moment I forgot that she didn't have Flora's knack for walking in such heels. The laces disappeared beneath the hem of a very tight corset dress which came all the way down to the knees, forcing her to take tiny mincing steps. The waist of the corset dress was laced incredibly small. In fact, I had never seen her with a figure anything like they way she looked that day. That should have tipped me off too, but I was too busy staring, and was still recovering from my shock, to realize how unlikely her appearance was. It looked much more like something she would make Flora wear, and I said so. "That's right," she said, "it is. But then, I'm not really wearing it. Rumplestiltskin." Hearing her speak this last word had an amazing effect on me. I felt a moment of dizziness, my vision seemed to swim a moment, and Mandy's figure blurred, to be replaced with a far more normal looking Mandy, wearing her usual house clothes; a black leather skirt and a white silk blouse. "Still think the hypnotism isn't going well?" she asked. "Your dress... Did you..." I was momentarily at a loss for words. The room swam again, and for a moment, I actually thought I was fainting. It turned out to be mere disorientation- I guess I was in shock. "Did you... make me see that... that creature, in the kitchen?" "Of course. Relax, you're not going crazy- this was your first big test. I wanted to see how far from reality we could go, in the way of visual and audible hallucinations. I want you to describe what you saw and heard, everything." I told her about the elephant, that it spoke, and how she (Mandy, not the elephant) had looked when she walked in. She was very pleased with herself, that much was certain. She explained that she had made two tests, actually. For the first, the elephant, she wanted to know how much detail my own mind would supply on it's own. She hadn't specified the apron, or what it would say, only that it would be in the kitchen, and that it would speak to me. For the second, she had wanted to see how well I could integrate reality with post-hypnotically-induced hallucination. She had lovingly described to me, while I was in trance, exactly what I would see her wearing, when I next saw her. It had worked perfectly. "So," she said, "did you like my outfit? "Hah! Are you kidding? I mean, aside from worrying that that corset dress would cut you in half, you looked fabulous! Er, not that you don't look good now," I put in lamely. "Hell, you know what I mean." She chuckled, in that almost masculine way she has, and gave me one of her heart-stopping smiles. "Well," she said, "do you think maybe we can have some fun with the hypnotism after all?" I had to admit that the effect her appearance had had on me was more than usually arousing- almost supernatural, she'd looked, like a John Willie illustration. And I'd already seen, on more than one occasion, the possibilities when she had put Flora under. She had been working with Flora for years though, and had planted several suggestions which made hypnotizing her even easier. In fact, since the trip to England, they had done a lot more work, to the point where she could put Flora under, or elicit some pre-programmed response with just one or two code words, or certain combinations of sounds, touches, or phrases. Since some of them are still in effect, I'm not about to describe them. "Okay," I admitted, "you're right, as usual. So long as you don't scare hell out of me with more pranks like that pink elephant, you've got another willing subject." "Good. I have a new project, an ambitious project, that I've been working on Flora with, and I'd like to include you, too. There's one angle to all of this, though, one that I don't think you've considered." "What?" "When you are in trance, or when you're experiencing some suggestion- induced hallucination or stimulus, you don't have a safeword. What I mean is, when you're in trance, it's hard for you to disagree with me, although theoretically, you can't be made to do anything you don't WANT to do, at some level. I'm not certain I agree with the theorists, though. Remember that diary thing you read to us, off the Internet? The husband seemed able to overcome his wife's willpower, even when she thought she didn't want to obey. As far as I'm concerned, the jury's still out on that." "Mandy. Mistress." I tried to look as sincere as I could, because I felt that way- I knew this was important. "You KNOW how I feel about you. You know what my limits are. You know what I like, and what I don't like. Hell, I've never had to call safeword as long as we've been playing together. If you were more into the heavier SM play I might have, but none of us are. So... I guess what I'm saying is, I trust you. Let's do it." Mandy looked relieved. I didn't think it was that big a deal. But then, I always seem to overlook things my lovers see as obvious. Mandy has a saying: `when you're conceived, you get a choice- you either get a clue, or a penis.' She's been proved right more than once. "Good," she said, "what's for breakfast?" -=O=- My punishment for having slept in that morning was to fix breakfast. It turned out that while I had been sawing logs, Flora and Mandy had been busy cleaning out one of the guest rooms. Over Denver omelets and a rasher of bacon, Mandy outlined her project. The plan was to provide a room dedicated specifically to a new hypnotism project. The idea was simple in concept, but complex in execution, at least from what little she had told us about the process of post-hypnotic suggestion. "I got the idea from watching Star Trek: The Next Generation. So it's both of your faults actually, since you got me hooked on it. We're going to have a holodeck, right here in the house. In that room, anything you can imagine, and describe to the computer, can be simulated. But in our case, we're doing it through hypnotism. It's taking me a while, but I think I've got both of you far enough along to try it. The idea is, one person gets to wear the `magic ring'. Anything that person describes, out loud, becomes true- it actually happens, as far as you are concerned. There will be limits, for safety. I don't think it's possible to cause someone physical harm through hypnotism, but there could easily be nasty psychological side effects if for example. you drowned in an imaginary swimming pool." "So can we work this with each other, or alone, or do you have to run the show?" Flora wanted to know. "As I said," repeated Mandy, "I'm setting up the metamodel so that whoever wears the control ring on their finger is in control of the virtual reality in that room. It could be you alone, or it could be me topping the two of you. If you think about what the two of you have experienced in the last few days, almost anything is possible. Which is why I've limited the suggestion model to that one room. I don't want any accidents or unpleasant scenes happening outside of the specific conditions I'm setting up." -=O=- It was several days before she felt we were ready for a test run, but they were very interesting days, never the less. Mandy was satisfied with Flora's "metamodel" as she called it, long before she was satisfied with mine. The metamodel was her name for the complex set of conditions and rules governing how our `holodeck' would work, and implemented by post-hypnotic suggestions. She made only one mistake that I know of. On one occasion I had a `negative hallucination' she hadn't planned on. Needless to say, that upset us both, and until I calmed down, I was almost ready to quit the project. What happened was, I tripped over a chair. A chair that wasn't there. We had been discussing and arranging the layout of the furniture that would be part of the test run, and I suddenly barked my shin on something I hadn't seen, and went sprawling on the floor. Flora and Mandy were all over me in an instant, making sure I was all right, but I still couldn't see the chair that I had fallen over. It was the only chair in the room at that point, and I was purely unable to see it. Mandy told me later that that was why we had painted the room white- it makes it easier for our imaginations to `fill in the blanks' if something `isn't there'. After I got over the shock, I started to appreciate the novelty and power of this new mental toy Mandy had introduced me to. I explored the surface of the chair with my hands, could tell that it was very real, (hell, it had been real enough to trip over), yet it remained stubbornly, frustratingly invisible, flagrantly disobeying my eyes, not to mention the laws of physics. After letting me fool with it for a minute, Mandy put me under and figured out the problem. When I came out, I was lying on the futon we had brought in, and there was the chair. It was one of the Victorian straight-backed chairs Flora had bought at an antique store, and which Mandy occasionally used for bondage. -=O=- In the mean time, Mandy ran through my mind with hobnailed boots. Actually, she was much more careful than that, but I read that line in a book somewhere, and I've always wanted to use it in my diary. Seriously though, after the second week, I was beginning to question my senses any time I heard or saw, smelled, or even _touched_, anything out of the ordinary. It started to sink in that I had entered a new level of submission to Mandy, one that Flora had been playing at far longer. I was gaining a glimmer of understanding of her attitude toward, and deep love for, our mutual lover and Mistress. Anyway, after that first test when I'd agreed to join in, we worked on the hypnotism more often, every other day in fact. A few days into this, I was watching the news on CNN, when Wolf Blitzer came on, live from the White House. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I felt this overpowering compulsion to get up, turn off the TV, and leave the room. Right away, I knew what was up, because two days before, I'd agreed to do a delayed compulsion scene. I figured this was it. But dammit, I wasn't in the mood just then, I wanted to watch the news! I decided to fight it, to see just how much strength this compulsion held. To my surprise, fear, and growing excitement, I found myself standing, the television turned off, and already moving toward the stairs to the second floor. I tried to shout, to let Mandy know that it had worked, that her program was running so to speak, but my voice didn't seem to work any more. While I took a mental step backwards, kind of `observing' what was going on with myself, I realized that the cue phrase must have been Wolf Blitzer's name, and that Mandy knew damn well what time I generally watched the news, so she was probably giggling to herself somewhere even then. It occurred to me, disconcertingly, that she could even be watching me right now, perhaps having magiced herself into invisibility in my mind. Again, I was disturbed by the implications of what we were playing with. This was heady stuff, serious magic, big juju. Mandy was playing voodoo priestess, while I was relegated to the role of ignorant savage. ... to be concluded in Part 2. My Darling Hypnotist Part 2 of 2 I headed up the stairs, because I _had_ to. At the top of the stairs, there's this little table, like a tall stand, with a huge spider plant sitting on it. I was compelled to stop there. Sitting next to the flower pot was a gelatin capsule the size of a horse pill, and a small glass of water. Oh shit. What the hell was this? Mandy hadn't mentioned drugs when I'd agreed to this scene. I was _not_ going to take that damned pill. Well, actually, yes I was. I fought it all the way, but it was as if I was merely an observer- I didn't even manage to tense my muscles. NOW I was scared. That was a weird and disturbing experience. I headed down the hall, wondering what was in the pill I had just swallowed. One of the things people find quirky about our relationship when we tell them, is that Mandy, Flora, and I have separate bedrooms. I suspect it's one of the reasons our relationship has been successful for so long. We have a place to retreat to, a sanctuary, and it's understood that you don't walk into someone's room without knocking if the door is closed. Moreover, it gives us, at least Flora and I the illusion that we're still somewhat equal in status to Mandy. And although deep down we know better, it does help us preserve our self-respect. So it was with a certain amount of surprise that I found myself heading for Flora's door. I had already figured out that I wasn't going to be able to resist this. On the way past my door, which is the first one in the hall, I'd made a heroic effort to just turn aside and walk into my own room. I might as well have been mounted on rails, for all the effect my will had on my actions. I was helpless, in a completely new way, and I was finding it exhilarating. When I got to Flora's door, I thought to stop and knock but no, I wasn't able to do that either, I just barged right in. I was prepared for a hell of a blast from Flora, because the last I'd heard, she'd gone upstairs for some time alone to read. I _wasn't_ prepared to see her standing, facing the door, with a pair of cuffs in one hand, as if expecting me. Nor was I prepared for what she was wearing. When she'd headed up the stairs, she'd had on a simple calico house dress. Now, she was dressed to the nines. I paused, obeying some unknown instruction, and took in the sight, from bottom to top, and back again. He feet were encased in a pair of her tallest stiletto heels, a pair of black patent ankle boots with locking ankle straps. With the exception of cut-outs for her breasts, the rest of her body was concealed within a skin tight and gleaming black latex catsuit. One of her shorter Victorian corsets, the black and silver leather one, was laced on over that. Her breasts jutted prominently above it, enclosed in one of the complex bondage bras that Mandy had bought on our trip to London. Actually, it was less a brassiere and more a complicated sex toy. I'd seen it demonstrated on her in the dealer's room at the convention, but this was the first I'd seen of it since we'd gotten back. The black leather harness held two "bust cups" in place, each formed from eight chrome plated curved metal rods. The fronts of the cups were big hollow bullet shapes ending in artificial nipple shapes. The "bullets" concealed tiny gear motors, the cranks of which were attached to her nipple rings by stiff little rubber bands. The motors were turned off at the moment, but I noticed the control box was tucked into the belt at her waist. The contraption was kind of outrageous looking, making her look a bit like a robot, although I could see her bare skin peeking from between the thin rods which made up the cups of the bra. Despite Flora's skill, the height of her heels and the compression of the corset were making it tough to keep her balance, for she swayed and took a small step occasionally while I looked her over. As my gaze reached her head, I saw that her hood was one of the more elaborate rubber discipline helmets devised by Mandy. She had had this one as long as I'd known her, but I hadn't seen it used for a while. Custom made to fit her head, the hood features a pump gag, and judging from the swollen appearance of her cheeks, it was in use too. The valve was capped where it came through at the mouth, so she wouldn't be removing it any time soon. This one also featured a big dramatic pony tail of blond hair emerging from a little tube at the back of the scalp. That's Mandy's idea of a joke, since as I've mentioned before, Flora is as bald as a cue ball. The whole time I was looking her over, Flora just stood there, staring back at me. I thought her eyes looked a little sleepy, until I realized that she too, had been put under Mandy's spell. She was in fact in a light trance, if my inexpert judgement was worth anything. After I had taken all of this in, I tried to say hello, or anything really, to at least get the ball rolling in whatever direction Mandy had planned, but instead, all that came out was, "Wolf Blitzer", the name of the guy on TV. After that, I was mute- my voice just wouldn't work. Apparently her ears weren't plugged or muffed under the helmet though, because as soon as I said it, she perked up. And I could no longer move. It was strange. I knew my muscles were keeping me standing, were in fact somewhat rigid, keeping me straight as a board, yet I had no voluntary control over them. The name must have been given to Flora as her trigger phrase too, because she immediately perked up. She walked up to me, and took my hand. As soon as she touched me I found I could move again. She led me over to her bed. Both her bed and mine are big Victorian style affairs with corner posts and top frames intended for canopies. We had the canopies stashed somewhere, but they never saw much use. I could see that there was some serious hardware attached to the frame at the top of her bed. As I got closer, I saw that we had a new addition to the toy collection. It took me several moments to figure out what it was. Flora had a metric butt-load of gear she wanted to put on me, so while she busied herself with that, I used the time to examine the new hardware. More than anything else, it resembled a suspension harness, but with an overall metal frame holding it. The metal frame sported leather padded metal cuffs at various points, and what had to be a collar and head-harness, also made from leather-padded steel. The whole thing was suspended by a square steel rod from a large metal box, which in turn was suspended from the canopy frame by four heavy chains. The thing looked complicated, and I wondered how I was supposed to fit into it. As it turned out, I wasn't. When Flora was finished strapping me up, I had cuffs on my ankles and wrists, a heavy bondage belt around my waist, a trainer harness on my head, and adjustable spreader bars between my ankles, knees, elbows, and wrists. She had me lie down face up before fastening the cuffs to the four posts, spread-eagle style. The belt was strapped to the bed frame, and the head harness to the head board. By the time she was satisfied, I was well and truly trussed, the tension on the straps and the spreader bars serving to immobilize me thoroughly. Between the gorgeous sight of Flora and her outfit and the bondage, I was already getting hard. In fact, I was kind of anxious for things to get rolling. I knew that Flora was working to Mandy's script, and couldn't help but follow her compulsion any more than I had, but I could still be impatient. I didn't know what else she (or rather, Mandy) had in mind, but it was clear that my job wouldn't be very much work. When she was finished with me, Flora climbed on top of my thighs and with only a few strokes, brought my soldier to full attention. By then, I had figured out (clever lad that I am) that the harness thing was for her, and I even had a pretty good idea what was going to happen. It had not escaped my attention that the harness was suspended directly above my crotch. By now, I was starting to feel a little "tight", a kind of internal tension in my muscles, and an energetic excitement. Now I knew what that pill had been. X, XTC, ecstasy, MDMA, whatever you want to call it. I'd only taken it once, along with Flora, with Mandy riding shotgun, when we'd gone to a big dance thing in England. Flora and I had had sex, in the bathroom, because we couldn't wait any more, the stuff had made both of us horny as hell. The trouble was, it also tended to delay orgasm, at least for us. I began to get nervous, as I deduced what was to come. So to speak. Flora raised up on her knees, and gathered the harness about her. Heavy leather straps were looped around her waist, hips and thighs. At that point she climbed on top of me, and I sank gratefully into her moist heat. It turned out she had only been checking the height of the harness, because she got right back off again, half-stood, and adjusted the suspension rod a notch higher. She climbed onto me again, and seemed to be satisfied. Well, I certainly wasn't, not yet, but I wasn't complaining, either. Sitting up on her legs again, she reached above her head, and pressed a button on the metal box at the top of the bed frame. A light next to it began blinking. She drew her legs up into a sort of cross-legged sitting position, and her weight shifted forward. The harness was suspended from the back of the shoulders, so that without her legs to support her, her torso hung in a forward lean. The part of the frame that hung down in front of her ended in a pair of clamp-like cuffs. She pulled her ankles into them, and with a cam-like action, they snapped closed, fastening her legs to the end of the bar. She was now suspended on my cock with her legs fastened, folded, several inches above my chest. She paused then, looking down at me, her eyes wide, as if to say, `what am I DOING?'. I could see that her breathing had become labored, her metal encased breasts heaving above the corset. Slowly, as if reluctant to do this to herself, her hand crept toward the control box tucked into her belt. She flipped the switch, and immediately shuddered. I could hear a low hum, and from my low vantage point, I could see the little cranks inside the bra moving back and forth, tugging on her nipples. She shuddered again. Then she grabbed the bar above her and leaned back, pressing her neck and head against the padded steel restraints. Like the leg cuffs, they toggled closed, trapping her head and neck, holding them completely immobile. Finally, she reached back to the bar behind her. I couldn't see her actions, but I heard the click, and I knew her arms were as immobilized as the rest of her now. As soon as that last click sounded, the blinking light on the box above turned steady. I realized that some kind of switches must have been built into the cuffs, and once again, I marvelled at the ingenuity of the craftsmen that made this sort of thing for Mandy. I had a good idea what was going to happen next, and I wasn't disappointed. The box was a motor. The shaft hanging from it began to turn, rotating Flora's immobilized body above me. Remember, she was still impaled on my cock. The sensation was exquisite! Her forward lean and her folded legs made her a tight fit. I had never before felt anything that intense, although I suppose it could be likened to very intense fellatio, just much better. I stared up at Flora's magnificent body, trapped within the framework of steel and leather, and watched her face each time it came around. It seemed that she must be wearing a different expression each time, although all I could really see of her was the eyes. But Flora's eyes had always seemed very expressive to me. If, as they say, the eyes are the window to the soul, Flora's soul must have been in rapture. She had started making little mewing noises through the pump gag, even before the machine had started rotating, due no doubt to that insidious device strapped to her chest. But now she was getting downright noisy, although I doubted an eavesdropper outside her room would have been able to hear anything. She grunted and groaned, squealed and moaned into the gag, and just hearing those sounds turned me on even more, if that were possible. It would have been enough to see her strapping herself in, "torturing" herself with pleasure, but the knowledge that like me, she was _compelled_ to do it, had in fact no choice but to do it, was even more of a thrill. Flora was the centerpiece of this scene, while I was merely a tool. I was being used, reduced to a mere cock to provide her with stimulation, although I was certainly enjoying it myself. That too, was a sort of turn on- I had done that sort of scene with both Flora and Mandy many times before, although this was obviously different. The machine, what did they call this arrangement, a Taiwan basket or something? ...continued to turn, and I continued to suffer in ecstasy, no pun intended. The X was definitely keeping me from coming, no bout a-doubt it. In fact, I was really going nuts, because the sensations from my cock were so intense after several minutes of this treatment, it was almost painful. What little was left of my rational mind wondered absently when Mandy would release us, because it was obvious that we wouldn't be getting out of it unaided. A few minutes later, I started making noises myself, and since I wasn't gagged, I was making quite a racket. After a few minutes of that, I thrashed to the left once, and saw that Mandy has walked in and was standing there, calmly watching us. But by that time, I didn't care one way or another, I was out of my head. I had felt contractions several times, and I knew that Flora had been coming a LOT, although I hadn't been counting. It was more than five or six times, I was sure. I, on the other hand, was taking a long time. Way too long, in my not very humble opinion. It felt like Flora had been twirling on my organ for an hour when I finally came, in a shattering orgasm so strong I actually saw stars. Whether they were from the X blazing in my veins, or from the head harness cutting off my blood supply when I strained against it, I didn't know and didn't care. When Mandy saw that I had finally come, she turned the damn thing off, turned off the motorized bondage bra, and let Flora down. She let me out just a few minutes later, and we all ended up in the library, cuddling on the rug in front of the gas fireplace with spiked hot chocolate, and talking about the scene. I found out why Flora had gone wild so soon. It seems that the compulsion to do all that she had done had vanished as soon as the clamps closed around her arms, and she had panicked. She'd wanted out of there _right_now_, and there was no safeword to call, even when Mandy had come in later. When Mandy heard that, she freaked. She looked like she was ready to cry, and fell all over herself apologizing until Flora shut her up with a hard kiss. "Mandy," she said. "Dear. Do shut up. That was one of the top ten scenes of my life. Stop apologizing. Please?" Mandy clammed up, looking uncomfortable, but mollified. I do believe that was the only time I've ever seen her look unsure of herself. Flora had one more thing to say, which I heard through a fog as I drifted off to sleep, my head in Mandy's lap. "When can we do it again?" -=O=- I still haven't gotten around to describing our first big session in the "holodeck" room. Quite a trip... but that's another story. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: There will be more stories about Mandy, Jason, and Flora. Stay tuned. Stay hungry. Stay foolish. -Bill -snip-------------------------------------------------------------------- Cheers, Thomas Baetzler, bath0011@fh-karlsruhe.de, thb@spectre.ka.sub.org -- Hain't we got all the fools in town on our side? And hain't that a big enough majority in any town? --- Mark Twain, "Huckleberry Finn"