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Archive name: puppyluv.txt (MF, mc, hypno)
Authors name: Tenebrius (ER-BBS Author)
Story title : Puppy Love

------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 2001. Please
do not remove the author information or make any 
changes to this story.  You may post freely to non-
commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of
commercial sites.  Thank you for your consideration.
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Puppy Love (MF, mc, hypno)
by Tenebrius (ER-BBS Author)
(c) 1991

***
Ever been hypnotized to think you were a dog? What would 
happen if you were, and something went wrong? This story 
is about a couple that attends a hypnotist's showing only 
to find the answer to the question, what if? Interesting 
plot twist.
***


"I've seen him before; he's great!"

"Good!" he said as the couple neared the auditorium. 
Sure, he thought. He glanced over at his date and smiled. 
Her hand pressed into his. They reached the ticket booth. 
"Two tickets, please," he said reaching back for his 
billfold.

"Students?" He nodded. "That'll be $8." he slipped the 
bills under the plastic divider and two tickets slid 
back. Collecting them, the couple headed for the door. 
Julie pointed over at the poster.

"The Activities for Students Bureau presents Dr. R.B. 
Blakely-Hypnotist Extraordinaire." A full length drawing 
of a Svengali-like hypnotist thrusting out a swinging 
bauble was beneath. Sharat was hesitant, but hell he'd 
been lusting for Julie. It was an opportunity to get 
close, hopefully real close. She looked over, her eyes 
sparkled.

"The last time I saw him, he suspended this girl between 
two chairs and this football player sat on her." She 
grabbed his arm. Hot damn! he put his arm around her 
waist. No Fuss! They headed for the entrance. he looked 
down at the tickets. At the entrance, the usher--
obviously a freshman--took the tickets, tearing them in 
halves.

"Row 17, seats 5 and 6," the young man handed them back. 

She drew Sharat into the auditorium. She looked up into 
his dark eyes.

"I know you're going to enjoy it." Her eyes...deep, 
penetrating...stirred the yearning and lust within. I 
can't wait, he thought. She smiled, turned, and led him 
down the aisle by the hand. Could be a great evening.

Her hair fell about her shoulders, the pale auditorium 
lights gave it a rich texture. Through her blouse he 
could see her bra strap. His hands longed to feel her 
firm, full breasts, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. 
He let his hand draw free and drift to her hip. He wanted 
to run his hand over her ass. "Don't rush it, play it 
cool." Christ he was aroused.

He stumbled forward, knocking into her. "Christ! I'm 
sorry!" he quickly apologized. "She must have noticed. 
Damn," he thought catching her surreptitious glance at 
his crotch after bumping against her. She neither said 
nor indicated that she noticed. 

They shuffled along the row, taking their seats. He 
decided not to put his arm on her shoulder but reached 
out and held her hand. He sensed her relief. About ten 
minutes later, the lights dimmed. Some junior dip-shit 
came out from the side wing of the stage, thanking them 
for supporting the ASB, eventually introducing the 
performer. The stage darkened except for a single 
spotlight trained center stage. Into the light stepped 
Dr. R.B. Blakely.

"The human mind is still a largely unexplored frontier. 

Science still knows little of how the neurons and 
chemicals in the brain form personality or our conscious 
mind. Even after a century, we have yet to fathom the 
depths of the human psyche. Tonight, ladies and 
gentlemen, we will explore some of the hidden aspects of 
our subconscious minds." His voice was clear and 
resonant. his white, close-trimmed beard gave him a wise 
appearance. His black suit and blue-gray tie along with 
his disciplined manner conveyed authority.

"I will need some bright, young volunteers from the 
audience."

"Go on," she urged. he looked at her. "Go on, Sharat!" 
she said, her hand running up and down his thigh. Her 
eyes sparkled. Her hand stopped, resting on his thigh 
inches from his cock. He stood up.

"Ah, good, one young man!" 

Sharat shuffled to the aisle. 

Did he really want to do this? He glanced back at her; 
she winked at him. He took a deep breath. He walked to 
the first row and was escorted to the stage with four 
other men and five women. 

"We'll begin with some simple tests to see how 
hypnotizable you are." The hypnotist quickly determined 
which would be suitable subjects, excusing two of the 
young men. he then had them introduce themselves briefly-
-first name and class. 

"Now I'm going to go through and hypnotized each of you." 
He came over to Sharat now seated before the audience. 
Dr. Blakely leaned close, "As I touch your head, you will 
feel your eyelids start to close. As your head falls, 
you'll drift off to a deep sleep...One ... two ... 
three." The hypnotist's hands cradled his head. He became 
disoriented. His eyelids sagged. His head dropped.

"Now you will awaken, completely refreshed. One ... two 
... three." His mind was foggy. "With each breath, you're 
becoming more and more awake."

His eyes opened. He was lying on the floor surrounded by 
a crowd of people.

"Okay, okay, step back. Please go home, people. Things 
are under control," came a deep voice from behind the 
spectacled young man seated beside him. To his left was 
Julie. Sharat started to sit up, but the young man put 
his hand on his chest.

"You might want to wait before standing," he cautioned. 

Sharat propped himself on his elbows.

"What the hell happened? Who are you?" The young man gave 
a smile.

"I'm Doug Obermann, a grad student in clinical 
psychology. 

Dr. Blakely suffered a heart attack during the 
performance. The ambulance has taken him to the hospital. 
Since I have training in clinical hypnosis, I have been 
assisting in bringing you and the others out of your 
hypnotic states." He looked about. Julie threw her arms 
about his neck.

"I was so worried about you." She was locked onto his 
neck. 

It felt good. "Let me take you home." Doug and Julie 
helped him to his feet. The others were also sitting 
about, dazed by the ordeal. He glanced up at the clock.

"9:23! I've been out for an hour and a half?" She took 
his arm.

"You were wonderful!" That didn't comfort him. He stopped 
and gently took her arms in his hands.

"Did I do anything ... you know ... stupid?"

"Like crowing like a rooster, or acting as if you were up 
on stage naked," she snickered. "No," she said resuming a 
semi-straight face.

"Really?" he asked with obvious distress.

"No." They walked to the car, arms about waists, 
silently. 

"So did you really run naked through your high school 
prom on a dare?" He froze. She broke into giggles.

"This isn't exactly a level playing field, you know," he 
said trying to play it cool. He opened the passenger 
door.

"I know," she smiled, walking around to the driver's 
side.

"... Besides, I had briefs on." The doors closed. The 
Ford Escort started up, its headlights flicked on, and 
they drove out of the pay lot.

The motor had a dull hum. They didn't say anything for 
several minutes. Then, watching the streetlights' 
repetitive spotlighting of the car's interior, he turned 
to her, "Okay, level with me, what happened. I need to 
know."

"It started off pretty tame. He explained that each of us 
can only do what our consciences allow us to do, even if 
hypnotized. But he went on to show how, when hypnotized, 
we can be tricked into courses of action. He told you all 
to remember your most embarrassing moment in high school 
that you wouldn't want others to know about, especially 
your parents. You were then told that you were the 
principal and you had a transcript of the incident before 
you. But instead of you, it was your enemy in high school 
awaiting your discipline. He asked you to read the 
summaries out loud. Everyone eagerly exposed their 
enemies. Yours was just ... more interesting than the 
others'." He sank in his seat. Exposed as an 
exhibitionist to his classmates and teachers. I'm dead, 
he thought.

"What about the crowing shit?" She glanced over and 
smiled as she pulled into the parking lot of her 
apartment.

"You didn't crow," she reassured. The parking brake gave 
its raking clicks. The car turned off; the lights went 
out. They got out locking the doors. He looked over the 
roof at her.

"I had a fun night ... I think," he joked. She smiled.

"Look. Before you drive home, why don't you come up and 
have a cup of coffee." Ka-ching! Damn, if he could play 
this up, he might make it all the way. As they walked to 
the apartment complex door, "I was a bit jealous there 
once."

"Really?" 

She inserted the key into the outer door.

"One of the women was told that when she opened her eyes 
everyone would be wearing only their underwear." His 
eyebrows betrayed his amusement. "She seemed to do quite 
a bit of crotch watching in your direction." 

He smiled. "Perhaps she expected that streakers don't 
wear briefs." 

She smiled.

"Oh, is that where the cock crowing comes in?" She pursed 
her lips, giving him a playful slug in the arm from which 
he drew back with exaggerated defense.

"I wouldn't be so smug ... Fido," she suggested. She held 
the door. He stood there; it was as if someone had 
dropped lead shot into his stomach. 

"Are you okay?" she asked with concern. 

He nodded yes and proceeded in. They climbed the stairs 
two flights and walked down the hall, stopping at room 
271. She inserted her key and opened the door. "Here it 
is, home sweet home," she gestured as she flipped on the 
light switch.

It was a stylish apartment in blues and greens. It was 
neat; women have a thing about that, he thought. She 
disappeared into the kitchen. He moved forward into the 
adjoining dining room, sitting at the table. Her 
movements were so smooth, flowing. His eyes followed her 
trim hips and ass as she reached about the cabinet, 
searching for the coffee.

"What else happened?"

"He said that we all have our animalistic tendencies and 
that evolution and civilization have only hidden them. He 
had your group focus on what you felt was your strongest 
emotion and to imagine becoming an animal embodying that 
attribute. Do you remember that hunk next to you," she 
asked casually glancing back while measuring the instant 
coffee into the mugs. Sharat remembered the blond with 
the tank top and muscles bulging out all over.

"Monkey? Perhaps, a jackass?" he volunteered. She 
stopped, sighed, and shot him an incredulous glance.

"Jealous are we?

... No," she turned back, putting the kettle on the 
stove, "a horse."

"N-n-eigh-gh, lassie, a wh-ee-ee-ee stallion." 

She turned the knob; the blue flame emerged beneath. 

"So what was I?"

"A dog," she stated matter-of-factly. She turned and 
joined him at the table. "What do you make of that?"

"Loyalty. Devotion. A howling good time." 

She smiled and groaned.

"Right. Shortly after that, Dr. Blakely clutched his 
chest and collapsed on stage while you all were in the 
throes of ... bestiality? That's when that guy came, Doug 
somebody. While the ambulance wheeled Blakely away, he 
went among you helping you to drift back into your 
trances and then awakening you." The kettle lid rattled. 
She rose and added the water to the cups, turning off the 
flame. She took out two spoons. "Milk, sugar?"

"None for me, *honey*." She brought the mugs over after 
adding milk to hers. Sitting, she folded her hands around 
the coffee cup. She looked into his eyes.

"So what's it like ... to be hypnotized?" He smiled at 
her. 

He laughed then shifted.

"If you're so curious, why didn't *you* volunteer?"

She looked down into her cup sheepishly.

"I said that I'd seen him before." His lips parted 
slightly. 

"I didn't volunteer," she quickly added. "I need to be 
... in control."

"Do you want *me* to hypnotize you?" he joked. He leaned 
forward, "You're getting sleepy, very sleepy," he said 
with his best Transylvanian accent. 

She smiled. Their eyes locked for a second. Then he rose, 
"Well, I guess I better get going. It was a really great 
evening ... even if I don't remember it." She smiled and 
got up. Her hand reached out taking his.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening." She reached up with 
her other hand, wrapping behind his head and drew his 
lips to hers. 

M-m-m! He decided to go for it and secured her waist with 
his arm. He gently nibbled her lips. As his tongue slowly 
pushed into her mouth, she drew back, "I-I ..." she 
muffledly started then her resistance faded. Soon their 
tongues explored each other's mouths. His hand moved up 
her blouse, unfastening her bra. She drew back. "Sharat 
... I ... I don't want this to go further." 

Shit, he thought. She looked down and noticed his bulge. 
He stepped back. "I'm sorry." He nodded. He started to 
the door. 

"No ... stay!" 

He stopped. 

"I ... I want you here with me." She went over to him as 
he stood facing the door. "I don't mean to lead you 
along, I just ... Sharat?" He was unusually quiet. "Will 
you say something. Please speak to me!" Suddenly he 
dropped on all fours, gazed up at her and barked.

"Sharat, this isn't funny. Come on get up." He sat back 
on his haunches. He shook his arm then bit at it with his 
teeth. "Right! Okay boy, out you go," she opened the 
door, and he strolled out enthusiastically. Down the hall 
was Twinkie, Mrs. O'Sullivan's tabby.

"Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!" he crawled furiously down the hall 
after it. What if he wasn't fooling, she wondered.

"Come here, boy. Here Sharat!" she called, patting her 
thigh. It was too late, the cat and its adversary had 
disappeared down the stairwell. "Good lord!" She ran next 
door and knocked on the door. The door opened and a young 
man stuck his head out, a golden retriever poking its 
nose around his legs. He gave her a once over and smiled. 
"Todd, can I borrow a leash and collar?"

"Sure. Back Max," he motioned the dog in, closing the 
door. 

He returned with a chain choke and retractable leash. 
"You dog sitting?" he leaned against the doorframe.

"Rather unexpectedly ... thanks, I gotta run." 

He nodded.

"Yeah." She started down toward the stairs. He watched 
her tight full ass. "Let me know if I can help!" he 
called after her. She disappeared down the steps. She 
heard a low growl and some barking. The kitten was 
huddling up on the laundry-folding table.

"Cornered yourself a pussy, huh, Sharat?" 

He looked back with dumb, affectionate eyes. She shook 
her head. Hopefully what's-his-name can fix this. She 
tugged on his shirt collar, "Come on, Sharat." He 
wouldn't budge. She looped the collar over his neck, 
attaching it to the leash. "Come on, Sharat!" she 
insisted, gently shaking the leash. There were footsteps 
on the stairwell. "Damn it, come on!" giving it a firm 
jerk. The collar tightened causing him to cough. "God, 
did I hurt you?" She reached over touching his shoulder. 
He looked up at her. The sight of a 150 lb. man in a 
leash on all fours caused her to grin.

Linda came into the laundry room with her basket of 
laundry. 

She stopped casting an eye first at Sharat then Julie. 
She whistled and shook her head. "Kin-ky!" Julie debated 
whether to go into the story or not. Not, she decided.

"Come on, Sharat," this time he followed. As he crawled 
by, he stopped and started to sniff at Linda's leg.

"G-r-oss!" she bellowed then kicking at him. "Get away 
from me you pervert." He growled.

"Come on, Sharat," she stated with clenched teeth as she 
pulled the chain. He followed behind. They got back to 
her floor and made it back to the apartment without more 
incident. She stopped and looked at him, what was she 
going to do? "I need to call ... Doug ... Doug uh-uh?" 
She took a deep breath. She looked at him. "He's going to 
destroy his clothes like that, but I can't have him 
running around in just his underwear. U-U-Ugh!" 

He sat there, his tongue panting and eyes fixed on her. 
She took off the leash and he immediately bounded over to 
the couch and proceeded to crawl over it. "Stay ... just 
stay," she said using her hands to motion him to lie 
down. He complied. "The auditorium, they'll know." She 
went to the telephone, called the auditorium, but there 
was no answer. She glanced over to see him chewing on a 
tassel. "No!" She rubbed her eyes, "This is a bad dream. 
I'm ready to wake up now!" She gave a determined sigh and 
went over to him.

"Sharat, I hope you don't remember this. If you don't, 
you'll always think you scored the big one." She pushed 
him down on his side. She pulled his shirt out and 
unbuttoned it, working the sleeves off his arms. 
Occasionally he would fuss. "Stop moving about." She 
unzipped his pants and undid the snap. She took a deep 
breath. It was an ecstatic moment filled with dread and 
curiosity. "Sharat, you're not faking this are you," she 
looked straight into his eyes.

"Ruff! Ruff!" his eyes reflected no understanding. She 
proceeded, pulling the pants down his hips.

"Red bikini briefs? You?" she shook her head as she 
pulled them off his legs. He rubbed the side of his face 
against her arm. There was a knock at the door. "Christ!" 
She looked around. "Come on Sharat!" He sat there. "Oh-h-
h!" she grabbed his collar and pulled him from the couch. 
She was leading him to the bathroom, when the door opened 
and Todd popped his head in.

"I ... uh ... oh! I guess I'm ... uh ... interrupting." 

She turned. "No, Todd. Actually, you're just in time. I 
was wondering if you had a second collar. You're a dog 
man, aren't you?" He gulped. He gave a sick smile and 
shook his head.

"Sorry, this ain't my scene."

"Pity! You'd look so ... delicious in chains," she 
purred. 

He quickly slipped his head out and closed the door. 
"That should get that sleazeball off my ass." She looked 
down at him, "Thanks, Sharat, I owe you one." She paused, 
considering the situation, "Maybe not." She let go of his 
collar and went to the phone and picked up the student 
directory. "What was his name?" she struggled to 
remember. "Don? No, Doug. Doug ... O--?" She looked over 
at Sharat who was sniffing about. "Well it's a start." 
Opening the phone book she found the O's and scanned for 
Doug. "Doug Oakland, grad" She dialed the phone and let 
it ring.

"Hello?"

"Is this Doug Oakland?" she asked hesitantly.

"Speaking."

"Were you at the Hypnotist Show Tonight?"

"Yeah. Why? Who are you?"

"My name is Julie Robbins. Did you help the group after 
the show?"

"Yeah? Why? Was there a problem?"

"Well, my boyfriend needs your services again."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"You've studied hypnotism haven't you?"

"Hell no, I'm a chemical engineer. Are you with ASB?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, wrong number." CLICK! It was going to be 
a long night, she thought. There was a trickling sound. 
She glanced up to see Sharat lifting his leg and pissing 
on her potted rubber tree.

"Sharat! No!" She ran over and whacked him hard on his 
raised thigh. He quickly crawled away. The stain ran down 
the side of the wicker planter onto the plush carpet. She 
grabbed the leash and his collar, attached them and led 
him into the dining room. "At least the floor in here is 
linoleum." 

She tied it to the table leg hoping he wouldn't realize 
his own strength or abilities. She went under the sink 
and grabbed a rag and some dish soap. Wetting and soaping 
the rag, she went over and scrubbed the planter and 
carpet. Sharat curled up clumsily and watched her. Drying 
it with some paper towels she stood and scowled at him. 
He sat up, dropping his head to his hands. He gave a long 
plaintive whimper, punctuated with short barks. Her gaze 
softened. He raised his head, tongue dangling. "My 
boyfriend the dog," she quipped. She threw the rags into 
the kitchen.

"Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo. Arf! Arf!" his eyes sparkled.

"You stay!" she said. She went back to the phone. Next 
number, Doug Obermann. She dialed and waited anxiously.

"You have reached Mark Spizetti and Doug Obermann. 
Neither of us are home presently. Please leave your name, 
eye color, hair color, measurements, favorite romantic 
nightspot, phone number and a brief message and one of us 
will get back to you. 

BEEP."

"...Uh, hi...My name is Julie Robbins. I'm calling for 
Doug Obermann. If you're the clinical psychologist who 
helped with after tonight's hypnosis performance, I 
desperately need your help. My boyfriend, who was 
hypnotized, has reverted back ...uh...to a dog. My number 
here is 555-5948. Thanks." She scanned the directory 
finding three more names. Dutifully she called and found 
none of them were psych grads. What to do now? She went 
back to the kitchen and sat down. "Looks like it's just 
you and me, boy ... I mean, Sharat." He rested his head 
on her foot. She noticed that his briefs were soaked as 
well. RING-RING. Sharat looked up. She jumped up and ran 
to the phone.

"Hello?"

"Is this Julie Robbins? This is Doug Obermann ..."

"I'm glad you got my message," she said with relief.

"Yeah. So tell me what happened." She told him how they 
went to her apartment and started some heavy petting. 
"Very heavy petting," he added wryly. It was when he was 
leaving that he changed. "Look, it's probably stress 
induced. Sexual arousal and trances have complex 
similarities in neurotransmitters and cortical activity 
patterns." He paused at her silence. "Just make him 
comfortable and let him sleep it off. He should be fine 
in the morning."

"Will he remember any of this?"

"It's hard to say. He sounds like a particularly 
suggestive person. I kinda doubt it, but he might. If you 
like, I can come over." She started to accept when she 
looked over to see Sharat chained to the kitchen table 
naked.

"No, he's resting now. I'll just let him sleep over."

"Fine, call me tomorrow though if there's a problem."

"Definitely! Thanks for calling back." She hung up and 
walked back over. There was a small yellow puddle where 
he'd been laying. "Okay Sharat, come here." Obediently he 
crawled over to her. "If you don't remember any of this, 
you're definitely going to think you scored." She reached 
out for him.

"G-r-r-r-r," he gurgled.

"Calm down," she glanced down and saw that he was wet. 
She ran into the kitchen and grabbed a wet dishrag and 
came back over and began to wipe him. His thick dangling 
cock and balls caused a warm rush to her face. She took 
the rag and mopped up under the table. Now what. Julie 
gathered up and took the coffee mugs to the sink. She 
turned about to see him in a provocative pose. The chain 
curved down to his collar, he laid naked facing her, his 
cock semi-erect. 

She was getting tired, it had been a stressful evening 
and she needed to get some sleep soon. But she didn't 
want Sharat to pee on the rug again. Then an idea came to 
her. 

She went back to the living room couch and took out his 
wallet. "Are you a naughty boy or a bad boy?" she asked 
peering into its recess. Reaching in she pulled out a 
condom. "Ah," she said looking at him, "a naughty boy! A 
naughty boy with protection." She looked the package 
over. "Sharat, this doesn't come with instructions." 

His vacant eyes just looked at her with adoration. She 
tore it open and pulled out the latex ring. "With women's 
protections they swamp you with all sorts of warnings, 
instructions, diagrams." She shrugged and walked over to 
him. "Roll over, Sharat, roll over." He eagerly complied. 
She stroked along his firm, hairy abdomen. His cock rose 
slightly. "Do you have to be erect to get this on?" she 
asked looking down at him.

"Arf!" he licked her arm. She tried to unroll it over his 
flaccid penis without luck. She reached down. Her fingers 
slowly grasped his penis. Gently pulling she felt it 
growing in her hand. Her hand reached down and stroked 
his balls. "U-u-m-m," came his faint whimper. He licked 
at her ankles. She watched as his cock grew erect. 
Without thinking, she bent over and kissed it. Quickly 
she sat back, bumping her head on the table. She took the 
condom and easily unrolled it down the length of his 
shaft now that it was hard.

"Are you enjoying this?" His mute eyes sparkled. "Right. 

Hopefully, this will hold you till morning. If you pee on 
something else I might just have to put you outside." She 
scooted back and rose. She disappeared from the kitchen 
and returned to the living room moments later with a 
blanket, which she tossed over the couch and tucked under 
the cushions.. She turned around. Sharat sat on his 
haunches, tongue and cock dangling. She shook her head, 
and went over, detaching the leash and slipping off the 
collar.

"Okay, onto the couch," she said clapping her hands. He 
crawled over and onto the couch. She walked over and 
worked to lay him out flat then pulled the blanket over 
him and tucked it tightly under the cushion. He twisted 
about and began a low pitiful whine. 

"Sh-h-h!" She reached up and grabbed a pillow, stuffing 
the corner of it in his mouth. "Will you please be 
quiet." He whimpered slightly then became quiet. "Thank 
you," she added as she pulled the pillow from his face. 
"My week, the typical, a little bondage and bestiality. 
How's yours, Jill?" she mused. "You stay here tonight ... 
okay?" 

His head rolled over and he licked her arm. 

"Stay." She got up and began turning out lights. He 
turned, falling off the couch. He crawled over to her. 
"No! Back to your couch!" 

He stopped, dejected. "Go!" He crawled back and curled up 
on the blanket. Turning out the remaining lights, she 
picked up her nightie and went into the bathroom. After 
changing and brushing her teeth, she made her way into 
bed. "Sharat, off the bed!"

He put his head to his hands. She sighed. She went back 
to the living room and brought his blanket into the 
bedroom. "Down," she commanded pushing the naked man onto 
the floor. She turned out the light.

It was turning out to be an eventful evening, she 
thought. 

Her mind reflected on their conversations over dinner. 
She felt something move. "Sharat!" She felt his tongue 
lick her ankle. "Stop, that tickles." She drew her foot 
away. His arms and head appeared on the side of the bed. 
"Down," she insisted. She drew the covers back and turned 
to push him back. He sat back then, as she sat there, put 
his arms on her thighs and began sniffing her panties. 
"Stop it, Sharat." 

She tried to push him back, but he was more insistent 
this time. His tongue reached out and licked broadly up 
the center, pressing the silk panty dancingly along her 
lips and clit. She put her hands on his shoulders and 
pushed back, "No, Sharat." Resistently, he pushed his 
face deeper. This time she was beginning to feel a 
strange perverted excitement..

"Sit, Sharat! Sit!" He dutifully sat back. 

What the hell she thought. And she stood and slowly 
pulled off her panties exposing her moist pussy. Then she 
drew off her nightly exposing her full, round breasts. 

She resumed her seat. "Come here, boy!" He happily 
crawled over, tongue and dick wagging. She gently took 
his head and pressed his face between her legs. His 
tongue immediately began stroking her lips and clit. 
Sometimes little licks. Then long licks. Sharat's tongue 
was unpredictable, sometimes pressing within. Stroking 
one side or another. 

Soon she was very wet. As he worked, she leaned back and 
closed her eyes. "Here boy," she called patting the bed 
beside her. He hopped onto the bed. She pressed her 
breast to his mouth. His tongue was rough.

He licked about the nipple, beating it with his tongue. 
His arm rested on her chest and pushed her back gently. 
His head lunged forward and began lick about her other 
breast. His nose roughly pushed beneath the breast, 
exposing it to his tongue. She flitted her finger about 
her clit and labia. 

Without warning, he flipped about, his tongue now lapping 
downward over her clit. A shiver went through her body. 
His erect cock was hanging above her face. Her hand 
reached around his calf and slowly stroked it. Her 
breathing became faster as he bit along her labia, his 
tongue plunging inside her vagina. Her mouth rose and 
began sliding along the rubbery shaft. She released it 
and managed to push him aside. She turned and got on all 
fours, "Now, Sharat, now!"

With perfect instincts, he clambered up behind her. With 
her hand guiding his cock into her waiting cunt, he began 
to pump. "Oh-oh-oh." His hands grasped her shoulders. His 
feet moved forward. His thrusting was raising her 
slightly. "Uh-uh. Yes-s." His clad latex cock slid 
easily. She tried to move, but his grip held her tightly. 
He continued to pump. 

Suddenly she felt her inside tighten. She felt like she 
would buckle. Shortly, his rhythm broke. He stopped and 
released her. She crawled forward and rolled to her side. 
A warm glow overtaking her. He crawled forward and put 
his head on her stomach. She ran her fingers through his 
hair. 

They laid there then she adjusted the blanket. "Come on 
up, Rin Tin Tin." He lifted his head, cocked it and 
crawled up beside her. She threw her arm around his broad 
chest, running her fingers through his chest hair. "Makes 
me wonder what you're like when you're you."

"I'm much better..."

Her smile froze, she sat straight up. "Sharat! You're 
you!" 

He turned lazily opening out his arms and looking up at 
her. "Well, I've always been me." 

She looked down at him sternly. "How much do you remember 
about tonight?" 

His eyes sparkled. "I remember stopping at the door ..." 
He stopped.

"... And?!"

"There was something about stay." He stopped and drew up 
a knee. "Next I'm naked, and pumping away doggy style." 
He paused, "I wasn't exactly going to stop and say, `Gee, 
where am I and what am I doing right now.'"

She laid down beside him, and he wrapped his arms about 
her. She pressed her head against his neck. "That 
hypnosis stuff is too weird. Never again." Her thumb 
gently ran along his temple.

"You're absolutely right. Why don't you rest. You must 
feel tired ... very tired. Your legs must feel very 
heavy. Let them relax." He yawned as his eyelids drooped. 
"You can imagine what it's like to lay around all day. 
Your only concern is to please your mistress." Her voice 
was calming. His eyes began to close. "This is your only 
desire, to please your mistress."

"To please m-m mistress," he murmured heavily. She ran 
her hand along his thigh. 

"Good boy," she whispered before going to sleep.

THE END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 13