Hypnotizing the Babysitter Ch. 02

MAY 24th

I returned from my run at 9:30. It was a cool day, and I was chockfull of endorphins ... a real runner's buzz. "And how are YOU this wonderful morning, Dawn?" I chirped, bursting into the kitchen through the screen door. I came up behind her, sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar, and gave her a little peck of a kiss on her left cheek.

"Mr. Torrance!" she exclaimed. Her hand went to her cheek, and she looked down and blushed beet red.

"Sorry," I answered, pouring myself a cup of coffee. "I feel great! And I do believe that I'm in love with the whole world!" I stuffed the two halves of a bagel into the toaster.

She was quiet for an entire minute. "Sir, I had a wonderful time last night. I want to thank you again for it."

"Which part of it?" I asked, innocently.

She blushed even more. "For the part of it that I remember," she said, so softly that I just barely heard it.

"I had a great time, too," I responded gaily. "Let's do it again. Soon." I dug through the refrigerator until I located the cream cheese.

She fidgeted and sipped her coffee. When it became evident that I was not going to say anything else, she coughed gently, seemed to screw up her courage, and asked: "Sir ... did you ... did you ... um ... make me do anything last night?"

"Like what?" I asked innocently.

She took a deep breath. "Sir, please! I can't remember! You put me to sleep, and I can't remember! Did we ... uh ... did we ...?"

"You told me that you didn't WANT to remember. You didn't want to KNOW. Do you remember saying that?"

She stared into her cup. "Yes, sir. I remember that. That's the LAST thing I remember, though."

I used the tip of my finger under her chin to lift her eyes to mine. "And I, ever the chivalrous hero, would never deny milady's wish." The toaster popped up, and I let go of her and turned away to tend to breakfast. When I finished preparing the bagel, I walked around the bar, facing her, and was suddenly shocked to find her crying. I hastily put down my plate and leaned forward toward her. Her hands were around her cup, and I put mine over hers. "Dawn ..."

"Am I still a virgin, sir?" she whispered.

"Oh, crap!" I muttered before I could stop myself. I took a deep breath and gently squeezed her hands in mine. "Look at me, Dawn." I waited until she complied. "I would never, ever take advantage of a woman like that. I didn't do anything to you after you went to sleep. You have my word."

She looked into my eyes through her tears. "You didn't?" Then, she floored me by asking: "Why not?"

I let go of her and took a step back. "Uh ... because I would never, ever take advantage of a woman like that?" I faltered. When she smiled sadly and looked back down at the cup, I became impatient. "Did you WANT me to take advantage of you?" I asked loudly. "Did you WANT me to take your virginity?"

Her unhappy smile broadened. "I wanted to please you, sir. I wanted to give you what you needed." She raised her eyes a little and peeked at me before lowering them again. "I know you wanted me. The way you looked at my ... at my breasts. The way you stared at me. I thought that when I woke up, I would find that you ... that you'd taken me the way you wanted to. But ... but I wasn't sore or anything, and I ... I ... um ... examined myself. And I couldn't see any ... um ... evidence. And so ... I figured that you didn't want me after all."

"Didn't want you?"

"I can understand why, sir. I'm fat, and I'm ugly, and ..."

"You are NOT fat! And you are NOT ugly! And I DO find you ... uh ... desirable!" I took a breath, but kept the volume up. "And I DO find this conversation to be decidedly weird!"

I picked up my plate and cup and I strode out of the room. I sat down at the dining room table and absently turned on the laptop computer there, scanning the news headlines without really seeing them.

After a few minutes, she was standing beside me. "I'm going to walk into town now, sir. Would you like me to get anything for you?"

She'd caught me off guard. "Uh ... not that I can think of, thanks. Why are you going?"

She gave me a shy smile. "You know."

I blinked. "I do?"

The smile broadened. She regarded me calmly for awhile. "Yes, sir. I KNOW when a suggestion had been implanted in my subconscious. I do it to myself all the time. I go to sleep at night thinking of my crystal, and while I begin to fade away, I give myself suggestions ... things that I need to do the next day. And then later, as I start to do those things, I know that I'm acting on the urge created by a posthypnotic suggestion. I can feel it. And so ... I KNOW you told me last night that I'd feel this way ... and that I'd do what I'm about to do. I KNOW that it's because you put it into my head. And I won't resist. I really, really don't WANT to resist." Her eyes shifted, as if she had just thought of something important. "Or is the urge not to resist just another implanted suggestion?" She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Goodbye, sir. See you in awhile."

And she turned and walked out of the house.

I wandered into the village myself an hour later, but I never saw her. There were a lot of tourists milling about, and the place was bustling. The fishing boats were coming in, and I bought a nice rockfish, which I had them filet. There's only one grocery store in town, but I found a couple bottles of Pinot Grigio, some small baking potatoes and a quart of early blueberries that I figured would be good with shortcakes. She wasn't at home when I returned, and I had no excuse not to mow the lawn.

It was much later when, sitting on the front porch swing and reading a volume of Fredric Brown's science fiction short stories, I saw her striding jauntily down the sidewalk with a large shopping bag hanging from each hand. The transformation was astounding. She wore a pair of three-inch heels below a pair of black pleated slacks. The blue silk blouse was low cut, and it showed an abundant amount of cleavage caused by an underwire bra under extreme tension. Someone professional had applied scant touches of makeup to her face that muted rather than highlighted. But it was her hair that made my mouth fall open in surprise. Full, thick, long and straight, it reached to the small of her back; and it was so deeply, glossy black that it seemed to have an almost purplish brilliance.

I found myself standing as she climbed the steps up to the porch. "May I sit down, sir?" she chirped, smiling.

"My God, Dawn!" I took the bags from her and set them down along the wall of the house, then I took both of her hands in mine and held them out apart so I could rake her body with my eyes. She laughed and blushed, but didn't protest as I let go with one hand and spun her around so I could examine her from all angles. I motioned for her to sit on the porch swing, then joined her, sitting close.

"I was SO lucky that they had a cancellation at the beauty parlor on a Saturday," she said. She stiffened for a moment as I put my arm along the back of the swing, but then she settled into me and sighed. We didn't say anything for a long time. "Would you believe that I've only been to a beauty parlor once before in my whole life?" she asked me. "My senior prom." She sighed. "Well, not MY senior prom, actually."

"Not yours?"

"I graduated after the tenth grade. But all of us 'non-in-crowd' girls got together and went En Masse that year, sort of as a show of defiance. The 'ins' were absolutely horrified."

I closed my eyes. "Be quiet for a moment ... let me see if I can imagine you being defiant."

She laughed. "Are you going to take me out again tonight, sir?"

"No. I'm making you dinner here. I'm not going to share you with anyone."

We were silent awhile. "Are you going to hypnotize me again tonight, sir?"

"Oh, yes," I answered.

She waited another thirty seconds before asking: "And are you going to take me ... sexually tonight, sir?"

"Yes," is said immediately. "Not necessarily in that order, though."

She reached up and put her palm on my chest, then leaned in and snuggled the side of her face into my shoulder. "I'm really nervous. But I knew it was coming. You programmed me to accept it."

I let the arm along the back of the swing fall, and I began idly running my fingers through her hair. "I didn't program you, Dawn."

I felt her shrug. "You suggested it, then. You made the hypnotic suggestion; and now, I can't stop thinking about it. I've been obsessed with the idea all day; the idea of surrendering to you, of pleasing you."

We sat like that, swinging gently, for a long time. Eventually, I got up and went inside to put the potatoes in the oven to bake before returning with two glasses of wine. We talked about trivialities, but we sat like lovers sit, close, touching. Dusk was falling and I refilled our glasses, and the evening stretched on, calm yet electric with the underlying anticipation of sex. We finally went in, and she set two places at the table, close together, while I fired up the grill in the back yard for the fish. I popped the cork on the second bottle.

Halfway through the meal, she leaned toward me unsteadily and confided: "Do you want to know something about pushup underwire bras?" She let the question hang for a second. "Too much support hurts."

I stood and held out my hand to her for several seconds before she finally understood my meaning, took it and allowed me to help her to her feet. Slowly, slowly, I unbuttoned her blouse. "Don't you want to finish dinner first, sir?" she asked quietly. I didn't answer, but concluded my task, slipped the garment off her shoulders and draped it across the back of her chair. She shuddered and took a deep breath as I turned her so that I could release the clasp of the bra. When it was off, she started to turn toward me, but I stopped her, and instead held the blouse so that she could put it back on. She giggled when she realized what I had in mind, and slipped her arms through it. She started to button it back up, but I told her to leave it that way, so she sat again. "You've already seen my breasts, sir," she commented.

"Only the left," I said sadly. "I never did get a good look at the right one."

She giggled again and moved the fabric so that her right breast was bare for a moment before re-covering it. I had no idea what her measurements were, but I suddenly realized that it wasn't possible for natural breasts that size to exist without sagging. Every time she moved, even a small amount, they swung gently, bounced and jiggled. With her blouse unbuttoned like it was, I could constantly see the inner sides of both smooth, fleshy globes. Within seconds, her nipples became turgid and engorged, and they seemed to strain out against the silk fabric as if they longed to come out and play.

I continued eating, but she only picked at her food now. "Are you okay, Dawn?"

She nodded, but a few seconds later, a tear emerged from her right eye, and she shook her head miserably. "I ... I sort of lied to you, sir." I didn't comment, and finally, she put down her fork and stared up at me pleadingly. "I'm NOT a virgin." She looked down at her hands in her lap.

"Would you like to tell me about it?"

She sighed. "No, sir." She sniffed a couple times. "Of course, you could MAKE me tell you, if you wanted."

She didn't see my hesitant grin. "I think that what you're trying to say is that you WANT me to make you tell me." I kept my voice tender.

She kept her eyes lowered. "I ... I did it with my hairbrush."

I blinked and tried to take in the implications of that. "You what!?"

"With the handle of my hairbrush. I did it a couple months ago. I was going through ... um ... a rather rough period in my life."

"I'm very sorry. It ... it must have hurt you."

"That's what I wanted at the time," she replied sadly. "To see blood. To feel pain." She paused dejectedly. "I ... I was really fucked up, sir."

It's the first time I'd ever heard her use harsh language. I reached out and took her hand in mine, and she looked down and studied them ... our two hands ... seemingly mesmerized by the sight. "How fucked up were you, Dawn?"

She shrugged. I got the weird impression she was talking to our hands rather than to me. "Oh ... pretty fucked up. And ... at the moment, I was drunk ... and high. All of a suddenly, I decided that I didn't want to die a virgin. I had just swallowed a whole bottle of sleeping pills, you see ... one of the same kinds of pills you have upstairs next to your bed. I woke up the next day in a pool of my own vomit. How pathetic is THAT!?"

"Why did you do that? Why did you try to kill yourself?"

She sighed heavily and continued to speak to the hands. "I read a dozen books on psychology at the library after I tried it. I'd never really been interested in psychology. If you believe all that stuff, I imagine you'd tell me that I was depressed because it was the first time in my life that I was without any kind of structure ... I had no one to give me directions."

"You didn't have a Sir."

"I didn't have a Sir," she repeated quietly. She suddenly seemed to realize something and looked up at me sharply. "But you mustn't think that I would do something like that now. When YOU send me away, I promise you that I will never consider that again."

"Send you away?"

"I know you will, eventually. I expect that, and I accept it. I'll be okay. I even have a job waiting for me, back in California. But ... I've never met anyone like you, sir. The last few days have been like a dream; helping you, being with you, having you guide me ..." Her whole body shivered. "... having you hypnotize me." She picked up her wine glass and found it empty. "I think maybe I've had too much to drink."

I really wanted to change the subject. "Dawn, I'm afraid I have some bad news." She looked up and tried to focus, her eyes startled and serious. "I ..." I picked up her hand and continued gravely: "I ... don't think I can keep my hands off of your breasts any longer. Your nipples are driving me crazy."

She'd been about to cry, and her laughter was broken with wet sniffles. "They're driving ME crazy, too, sir! The silk blouse is scraping against them almost constantly! They feel like they're made out of rocks!"

I stood and helped her to her feet again, then turned her away from me and slipped the blouse off her shoulders. "Rocks just won't do, I'm afraid," I told her flatly. "I don't think I'd like sucking on rocks." She giggled again and allowed me to turn her toward me. And before she was really ready, I kissed her hard.

She gave a surprised little "Mmff!" and staggered into me clumsily, her hands going to my arms, then dropping to her sides, and finally coming back up and snaking around my neck. Her breasts flattened against my lower chest, she gave a muffled moan, and she seemed to melt into me. Slowly, she began undulating her belly and groin against mine. She jerked slightly in surprise as I began exploring her lips with my tongue, then she hesitantly parted them and allowed me access to her mouth, responding with tentative forays with her own, caressing the intruder with hers. Her knees sagged for a moment, and when I finally broke my grip on her, she sighed heavily and hung from me, supporting herself by grasping my shoulders. She buried her face into my chest and kept rubbing herself against me slowly, sinuously.

"No one has ever kissed me like that," she wheezed, her chest heaving against my own. "OH! Oh, gosh, sir!" I had begun kissing my way down her body, pecking, licking, nibbling on her neck. "I'm on the pill," she said, and then moaned as I paid oral attention to the dimple between her neck and her collar bone. "I started taking them the first day I came to work for you, in case you ... you should ever ... want me like this. But ... but ..." She gasped as I nuzzled her neck. "But you'll have to tell me what to do, sir," she panted. "I need to please you. I HAVE to please you! But I don't know what to do. I've never been with a man like this before, and I ... OH!"

I'd made my way to her breast, and I sucked one of those magnificent nipples into my voracious mouth. It was an inch in diameter, and it had the feel of hard rubber. I suck-suck-sucked on it rapidly, then held it between my teeth and flicked it savagely with my tongue. My arms were around her waist, and she bent back against them while putting her hands behind my neck and head and pulling my face into the suffocating softness of her pillowy left breast while an intense shiver racked her body. I pushed away from her, kissed her softly on the lips, took her hand and led her up the stairs toward my bedroom. I found myself seriously contemplating picking her up and carrying her ... a modern Rhett Butler ... but she was too heavy for me to do that delicately. Still, she followed meekly behind me, obviously willing to do anything I told her, and that was enticing enough for me. I paused halfway up the stairs and adjusted my erection before continuing.

When I got her to the side of my bed, I positioned her so that I could gently push her down into a sitting position at one side. "Will you let me take you, Dawn? Will you let me do what I want with you?"

She nodded so vigorously that her hair flew all about her head. I leaned forward and kissed her very gently while I reached down and urged her knees apart with one hand. She complied immediately, and I inched forward between her spread legs until my knees were pressing into the edge of the mattress. I eased her onto her back, maintaining the kiss, so that she lay flat with her lower legs hanging over the edge; and then I began kissing my way down her body. Again, she was caught in a paroxysm of shivers when I started paying special homage to her nipples; and her lower body began straining upward against my crotch and upper legs. She groaned loudly, her breath coming in shuddering gasps.

Leisurely, I slid off the edge of the bed until I was on my knees, kissing and licking her lower chest and her stomach, while I worked with the catch on her pants and pulled down her zipper. Finally, I kissed my way to the tops of her cotton panties, and she popped into a sitting position, crying out as she understood what I was about to do; but she must have remembered her promise to "let me have my way," because with a resigned groan, she plopped onto her back again and ground herself up into my licking mouth. I slipped my fingers into the waistband of her slacks and panties and backed up a little so that she could bring her knees together and raise her bottom as I peeled them off, eventually taking the shoes with them. She wore no hosiery, and now she was completely nude. Then, I moved back in and ran my tongue up the length of her wildly secreting valley, which was nestled in black pubic hair, until I had made my way to her clitoris. I slathered my attention there for a few seconds, and then made my way down until I could sink it deeply up and into her channel. After lingering there awhile, I made the trip back up to her clit again.

She exploded in orgasm, surprising me with how quickly she had reached her peak, and her hips lurched upward, her stomach muscles tightening, her vaginal cavity gapping open, clenching shut, then opening again. She made unintelligible grunting sounds that slowly subsided into a low, almost humming noise, and she jerked as I gave her another few lazy licks before I crawled up until my face was even with hers. I kissed her lightly, then again ... and again. When I probed gently with my tongue, she knew right away what I wanted, and she opened her mouth to accept me, but froze momentarily as she detected the difference this time. She broke away, her hands gripping my shoulders, and she gazed into my eyes.

"Oh, Gosh! That's me, isn't it? That's what I taste like!" She took in my patient smile. "Oh, sir ... I just want to please you! I only want to please you! But everything you're doing is new. I don't understand what's happening. Help me, please! Tell me what you want!"