In a Trance

It was a slow day at the office, a Friday afternoon an hour before quitting time, and Carla was fooling around on the Internet. She should have been working, putting the finishing touches on a report her boss had just dropped off on her desk. He gave her the report and then did a cut and run, the bastard.

Carla suspected her boss was going to meet his girlfriend for a quickie, or maybe get in nine holes of golf before going home to his wife and a dreary supper. The weather had turned warm in Ohio, and it was an effort just to return from lunch. 'They owe me some time,' Carla thought to herself, as she started cruising the Yahoo personals.

And there he was, as big as life. He listed his hobbies as parapsychology, transgressive sexual behavior, hypnosis, and Tarot. 'Sex and hypnosis,' Carla said to herself, followed by 'I'm getting aroused just thinking of the possibilities.'

He used the name "D_Diderot," and he was on-line, so Carla sent him an IM. That was how it all began, and it turned out to be the adventure of a lifetime.

They chatted for a while about hypnosis, his experiences, mostly, the professional hypnotist he studied with while still in high school, and the hypnotic research he took part in as a paid research subject while a college student.

Later she found out that his name was Frank Morgan, but he sometimes published under the name Diderot, after the French 18th Century author and philosopher. Morgan suggested she read one of his published Diderot stories, "Nuts and Sluts," about a kinky young high school student who gets conned into hypnotic research. The girl in the story was quite willing to be manipulated by a college professor; the silly little slut didn't really need hypnosis to shed her inhibitions.

Carla was very different from the woman in the story. When it came to sex, overt sex, she was very inhibited. Carla's turn-on was very different. As she said on her web page, "I love the idea of giving up control thru trance." Morgan concluded if they finally met in real life, she would be a very good hypnotic subject, willing to obey his every command, wanting to satisfy his every wish.

Then Morgan got lucky; the teaching appointment came though. He sent her an IM to tell Carla the good news. He was coming to Ohio in the fall, as a guest lecturer, to give a course in parapsychology and the occult at her local college. In addition, he would be doing research and giving several public demonstrations on hypnosis. For the research, he would need several test subjects.

The week he arrived on campus, Morgan gave a talk and demonstration of mass hypnosis. Naturally, Carla attended. Her husband wasn't interested, so she attended with a woman friend.

There were 60 or 70 people in the lecture hall, and at one point Morgan had all of them stand up.

"Close your eyes and relax," he told the audience. "When you're very relaxed and comfortable, imagine you're holding a string in your right hand, attached to a helium filled balloon, and in your left had is a heavy lead weight. As your right hand rises, your left hand will begin to fall ... as your right hand rises, your left hand will begin to fall ... as your right hand rises, your left hand will begin to fall ....

Carla was beginning to feel very mellow, very relaxed. Without conscious effort on her part, her right hand was beginning to rise, and her left hand to fall. She was beginning to enter a light trance state.

Morgan surveyed the audience, choosing the five best subjects. He went around the room to the others, having them sit down.

"Now, as I count to five, you will gradually open your eyes," he told the five who were still standing.

"One, you are starting to open your eyes ... two, a little bit more ... three, don't move your hands ... four, they're almost open ... five, open your eyes."

The five looked around the room in amazement. Everyone else was seated, and they were all standing, the right arm raised, the left arm lower, almost at their side. First one, and then the remaining four started to laugh.

Morgan brought the five, three women and two men, to the front of the room, seated them in the row of chairs facing the audience. Based on her description in an IM, he suspected Carla was one of the five. The woman was tall, slim, a natural blonde if he was any judge of hair color, with a tight ass and a spectacular rack.

The rest of the demonstration was his standard stage routine. First, "instantaneous induction" using a technique he learned from his teacher, Harry Aarons, years ago. This was followed by demonstrations of catalepsy, negative and positive hallucination, and post hypnotic suggestion and re-induction to the trance state.

For the finale, Morgan induced temporary anesthesia, and pushed a slim needle through the subject's arm. No pain, no blood. The audience was impressed,. By the end of the show, he had learned the names of his five subjects. One was named Carla. Was it a coincidence, or was she the one who sent the IM? He hoped to find out after the lecture.

Morgan had answered questions from the audience, and several members from the Psychology Department came up to congratulate him on an informative lecture and demonstration. The tall, slim blonde who had been one of his subjects finally approached him.

"Professor Morgan, do you have a moment?"

"Of course ...Carla. That's your name, Carla Summers, if I remember correctly." "carlas" had sent him the IMs.

The woman was quite shy, almost hesitant to approach him as the lecture hall emptied out. Another woman stood beside her.

"I'll only be a minute, Grace," she said to the prune-faced woman who stood at her side.

"You want to make an appointment to see me?"

"Yes."

"To talk about my research in 'behavior modification'?

"If that's what it's called," Carla replied.

"Your friend is waiting, so please phone me tomorrow at my office," as he pressed the business card into her hand. "Call me promptly at 10:00 a.m. I'll be expecting your call."

Carla seemed relieved that the hypnotist didn't ask for any more details. He seemed very sure of himself, telling her to call him "promptly at 10:00 a.m." Was he testing her, the same way he tested the young girl in his story?

It would have too embarrassing to have any further conversation with Grace Watkins, the town gossip, looking over her shoulder. She guessed he knew already who she was, and why she wanted to be hypnotized.

Morgan turned and proceeded to put his lecture notes into his brief case. He was smiling to himself. Within a week, he would turn Carla Summers into the secret slut he knew she always wanted to be.

The next morning, Carla was nervous when she made the phone call. She was phoning from work, and she misdialed Morgan's number twice. The first time she was connected to the Psych Department secretary, the second time to Morton's Funeral Home. It took all her concentration to get it correct on her third attempt.

"Morgan," was all he said when he answered the phone on the fifth ring.

"This is ... this is ... this is Carla Summers," the pretty young woman stammered.

"You're three minutes late."

"I'm sorry." Carla knew was already on the defensive, apologizing for no apparent reason.

"And the reason for your call?" His voice just seemed to hang in the air.

"I wanted to talk to you about 'behavior modification,' to see if you could help me with a personal problem."

"Can you come by my office on your way home from work, say about 6:00 p.m.?"

"Yes, I think I can."

"Can you or can't you be here at 6:00?"

"Yes, I can come to your office at that time."

"And this time, I expect you to be on time."

"Yes, Sir." Carla didn't know why she said that. Maybe it was because of her need to obey.

Six o'clock was an awkward time to meet. Her office closed at 5:00 p.m. Her husband was out of town on business, so Carla didn't have to phone home to tell him she would be late. But wasn't enough time to drive home and change her clothing, or at least to put on fresh underwear.

Carla couldn't make up her mind if she should put on the pantyhose she kept in her desk for emergencies, but in the end, decided to go barelegged. So she sat around the office, fretting and fiddling at her desk for half and hour, and then drove the short distance to the college campus.

It was easy to find Morgan's office. She had been a psychology major 10 years before, so she knew the campus well. She arrived five minutes early, waited nervously in the hall, and at one minute to six knocked on the door.

"Enter," Morgan called out.

Carla pushed open the door and entered the tiny office. It did have a window, open to the cool breeze of the evening, which was a relief. Carla was starting to perspire.

"Sit," he said, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. "Now tell me, Ms. Summers, exactly why you're here."

"It's kind of hard to explain."

"I have all the time in the world." His voice was soft but firm, reassuring, comforting.

"You see, I'm extremely uncomfortable with sex. And I find it very hard to even talk about it."

"That's not uncommon, even for married women, especially for married women to talk about sex with a complete stranger."

"Perhaps ... perhaps if you hypnotized me, put me in a trance, I'd feel more comfortable talking about my problem."

G-d bless her, Morgan thought, I didn't even have to suggest it.

"I'll want to know your complete sexual history before I decide on a treatment plan, if that's acceptable," Morgan said.

"Just so long as I don't remember any of this, any of what I told you, after I wake up," Carla responded.

This was going to even better than Morgan imagined.

Morgan did his usual "instantaneous induction," the same method he used on the best five subjects the night before. Carla went quickly and deeply into a trace state.

"Now tell me, Carla, how old you were the first time a boy kissed you on the mouth."

"Twelve or thirteen."

"And did you like it, the feeling."

"Kind of ... until he tried to put his tongue in mouth."

"What did you do then?"

"I pushed him away, and went into the other room, where the lights were on."

"And how soon after that did a boy try to touch your breasts for the first time?"

"I didn't get invited to parties after that while I was still in middle school. The boys all said I was a prude. They laughed at me, both the boys and the girl, because I wouldn't put out." Carla whispered this in a very soft voice. It was one of her shameful secrets, rejection when she was 12 or 13 years old.

"Did you date in high school?"

"Not a lot, not really. I was tall and gangly and had stringy hair and my breasts were really small."

Carla was about 5'7", slim, with a very tight ass, with spectacular 34-C tits. Morgan guessed she was a natural blonde. He would find out soon enough.

"And when did you start to fill out, to get some shape, some curves?"

"I was 15 or 16, a 'late bloomer' my mother said."

"Did things get better after that?"

"Not really. I was in the marching band and the psych club, but I hung around with the nerds."

"And then you started college? Did you go away to school, or live at home and commute."

"I lived at home and went to State. I was a psych major, took classes right here in this building."

"When did you have your first really bad sexual experience?"

"I was a sophomore. I remember I had just turned 19. I was dating a senior and it was Thanksgiving. His name was Billy Jackson. He was from out of state, Kansas or Nebraska, and couldn't get a ride home for the holiday, so I invited him over for dinner with my family."

"Please go on," Morgan said.

"After my parents had gone to bed, we were in the family room, watching TV. We started to kiss, and I liked it for a while. He touched my breasts, and I liked that too. Then he put my hand on the front of his trousers." Carla's voice had dropped to a low whisper.

"Are you feeling uncomfortable telling me this?"

"I don't know. It's strange to think about it after all these years. I'm so embarrassed by what happened, what Billy did to me, what he made me do."

This was getting interesting. After a long pause, "Please don't tell me I have to go with the story."

"Carla, you'll feel better telling me, and you won't remember any of this conversation. So you HAVE TO go on and tell me."

"Billy pushed up my shirt and bra, and started kissing my breasts."

"And did you respond?"

"I never felt that way before, all squishy between my legs."

"But you liked it?"

"At first."

"Did you masturbate as a teenager?"

"That's dirty. Nice girls don't do that."

"And what did Billy do after her kissed your breasts."

"He unzipped his trousers and exposed himself."

"Had you ever seen a man's penis before?"

"Not in real life. Only in biology books. It looked huge."

"He put your hand on, didn't he?"

"Yes, and me made me move my hand up and down. He kept kissing my breasts and telling me how beautiful I was, how much he loved me."

"You were very aroused at that point?"

"Yes. I had never felt like that before, sexy and dirty at the same time. Finally, he asked me to kiss his penis."

"How did you respond?"

"I told him that was dirty. That I was a nice girl, a virgin."

"Then what happened?"

"He laughed. Then he pushed me down and made me take it in my mouth. I didn't want to, but he held my head, pulled my hair, and made me move my head up and down."

"Did he ejaculate, in your mouth?"

"Oh, G-d, yes. It was disgusting. He wouldn't let go of my head, and I was starting to gag. Finally he let me up and I ran to the bathroom. I spit up his cum, and I thought I was going to vomit. I started to cry. I must have stayed in the bathroom 10 or 15 minutes. When I returned, he was gone. I never saw him again." Carla was trembling as she finished the story.

"Thank you, Carla, for telling me this. I'm going to wake you up in a few minutes, by counting from 1 to 5. With each number, you'll become more and more awake. You'll be calm and relaxed, and you won't remember any of this conversation."

Morgan then gave Carla a post-hypnotic suggestion, that whenever he said the phrase, "shoe-book-elephant," and then touched her right shoulder; she would immediately go into a deep, restful sleep. He counted from 1 to 5, gradually bringing her out of the trance. She had a smile on her face; she looked relaxed, beautiful and radiant.

"Sleepy?" Morgan asked her.

"Not really."

"And relaxed?"

"I feel at peace with myself, for the first time in years."

"I think we're making good progress. I also think it would be helpful if I see you again, as soon as possible. Tomorrow, after work at 6:00 p.m." It was given as an order, not a request.

"Yes, Sir." Carla blushed. She was ecstatic.

The next evening, Carla arrived promptly at 6:00 p.m. She had dressed carefully, her best blouse, a straight skirt that showcased her shapely legs and tight ass. She considered wearing pearls, but decided that would be too flashy.

She knocked at the door, and entered the office when called.

"Please sit down Carla. Did you sleep well last night?"

"Like a baby. It was the best sleep I've had in years."

"Before we begin, I'd like to do a simple experiment. If you're willing."

"Yes."

Morgan stood before her.

"Good. Now, I want you to unbutton your blouse and expose your breasts."

"Are you crazy?"

"Show me your tits, Carla."

"I can't ... I can't. Please don't make me."

"I would never make you do anything you didn't really want to do," Morgan told her in his smooth, hypnotic voice

And with that assurance, Morgan took one step closer, said the words "shoe-book-elephant," and taped the pretty blonde on the right shoulder.

Carla slumped forward in her chair. She was in a light trance. The hypnotist proceeded to give her commands to deepen the trance state, and when he thought she was deep enough, began his questioning.

"Carla, on your wedding night, you were a virgin?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Did you find the experience enjoyable, intercourse for the first time?"

"It hurt, and I bled a lot. I didn't like it much."

"And now? You're married 8 years, aren't you?"

"It's not that great, the sex part. Something is lacking." Carla went on to explain, "My husband is a good man, but he's not very assertive sexually. When we first got married, we had sex every Saturday night, like clock work."

"Then what happened, after a while?"

"For a while, it was the same old – same old. We'd kiss, he'd touch my breasts, and then he'd put his penis in my vagina. I was always very dry, and it would hurt, but he'd always climax quickly, and then roll over and fall asleep."

"Was it ever more exciting than that?"

"Once in a while, hubby would ask me to kiss his penis. I told him I couldn't, I simply couldn't. I never had the courage to tell him why. We'd argue, and he'd call me a 'frigid bitch,' and then I would sleep in the guest room for a few nights, until he apologized for being such a pig."

"Did he ever offer to make love to you orally, to go down on you? Or ask to watch while you to masturbated? Or ask for anal sex?"

"He never asked."

"But you wanted him to?"

"I don't know, maybe. Sometimes I think about those things."

"Do you have a fantasy world? Do you ever masturbate?"

There was a long silence. Carla's eyes were closed, closed tightly, and she had an anguished look on her face.

"Do I really have to tell you?"

"You have to tell me. Later, I'll make you show me exactly what you want."

"I can't ... I can't. Please, don't make me."

"Carla, I command you to tell me."

Carla struggled with herself, fighting to wake up from the trance

"I like to pretend that I'm in a trance, that I've gone to a hypnotist, and that he seduced me."

"Seduced you, how exactly?"

"He took away my self-control, made me do things I wouldn't ever do."

"Would you want that to happen now? For me to seduce you, to take away your self-control, to make you do things you've never done before?"

"I don't know. I'm confused. Yes. No. Yes. Please, yes."

"Carla, I want you now to imagine that you're on vacation, without your husband, at a resort in a tropical location. Maybe it's a Club Med resort, or something like that, and all the people there are very uninhibited. Can you imaging that?"

"Yes, Sir."

"The first day, you go to the beach. You're shocked by what you see. Some of the women are topless, and some are totally naked. Some of the women are very beautiful, some are long average. And you know that your body is as attractive as any of the women. Can you imagine that?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Now imagine that you're at that beach. The temperature is warm, the water sparkles, the sky is clear. You're wearing a very modest bikini. Carla, unbutton your top and show me the bikini bra you're wearing."

In slow motion, Carla unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it aside.

"Now the beach wrap. Stand up and find the zipper, so you can enjoy the lush tropical air on your perfect body."

Carla removed her skirt, imagining that it was a beach wrap.

"Now Carla, touch your nipple though your bikini top."

Carla raised her right hand, and began to tease her nipple through the sensible bra she was wearing. After a few moments, the young woman began to smile, although her eyes were closed.

"Does that feel nice, the sensation as you touch yourself?"

"Yes, very. I've never done that before."

"It would feel nicer if you took of your bikini top. Many of the women here on the beach are topless, and you certainly have a better figure than most of them."

Carla unhooked her bra, and her spectacular breasts tumbled free. Her skin was pale, and she had a light sprinkling of freckles across the top of her chest. Her nipples were light pink, tiny and already head from her touches.