Archive-name: Control/puppyluv
Archive-author: Tenebrius
Archive-title: Puppy Love


     "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 lead 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 freee
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 surrepitious glance at his crotch after bumping
against her.  She neither said nor indicated that she noticed. 
They shuffled along the tow, taking their seats.  He decided no
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 dipshit 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 concious 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 subconcious minds."  His voice was clear and
resonant.  his white, close-trimmed beard gave him a wizened
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 openned.  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 assistaing 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
escort started up, its headlights flicked on, and it 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 outloud.  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 the cock crowing comes in?"  She pursed her
lips, giving him a playful slug in the arm from which he drew
back with exaggerated defence.
     "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 drewback, "I-I ..." she muffledly
started then her resistance faded.  Soon their tongues explored
each others' 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 openned the door, and he
strolled out enthusiastically.  Down the hall was Twinky, 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 openned 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 hudlling 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
laugh.
     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 him.  "Get away from
me, 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 tassle.  "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.  Occassionally 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."  Openning the phonebook 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 se 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 planter onto the plush carpet.  She grabbed the leash
and his collar, attached them and lead 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 271-5948.  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."
     "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 in his briefs.
     "No, he's resting now.  I'll just let him sleep over."
     "Fine, call me tomorrow though if there's no change."
     "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. His briefs were soaked.  "If you don't remember any of
this, you're definitely going to think you scored."  She reached
out for his briefs.
     "G-r-r-r-r," he gurgled.
     "Calm down," she said plainly, "these need to come off or
you'll wet the whole apartment."  She gently worked them off and
down his ass.  She glanced to make sure nothing vital was being
squeezed.  His thick dangling cock and balls caused a warm rush 
to her face.  She continued working the briefs down his legs,
over his ankles.  She grabbed the rag and mopped up under the
table.  Now what.  Julie gathered up and took the coffee mugs to
the sink.  She turned about see him in a provocative pose.  The
chain curved down to his collar, he layed naked facing her, his
cock semi-erect.  "Now, I need my camera.  And Jill thought I had
no social life!"  An idea hit 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 bad 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 smooth hand
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 unrolled it down the length of
his shaft.
     "Are you enjoying this?"  His mute eyes sparkled.  "Right. 
Hopefully, these are the *only* kind of accidents to be avoided
or else out you go!"  She scooted back and rose.  She disappeared
from the kitchen and returned to the living room minutes 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
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 her own juices were beginning to flow.
     "Sit, Sharat! Sit!"  He dutifully sat back.  She stood and
slowly pulled off her panties exposing her moist pussy.  Then she
drew off her nighty 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 clammered 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."  The 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 layed 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 openning 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 layed 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 murmurred heavily.  She ran her
hand along his thigh.  
     "Good boy," she whispered before going to sleep.

--