Hypno-Tryst

This story is my first submission, ever! I claim complete responsibility for any errors and omissions. I'm particularly thankful for the editorial assistance of Sappho Sister, without whose assistance my characters would have lacked substantial... well, character.

It was late at night on a Monday, and I was very tired after a long day at work. Don't get me wrong, I didn't slave away at any corporate headquarters anywhere. I just happened to be one of those professionals lucky (or unlucky) enough to work at home. My forte was composing and compiling technical manuals of all types and shapes. Fortunately, my old military discipline proved invaluable in keeping distractions to a minimum during my work "day." The best part of this setup was I got to dress down, wearing just a sports shirt and shorts, and my old lined slippers. Ahhhh...

7:30pm, and I heard a knock at my front door. Now, I don't get many visitors these days, especially at night, and I was tired. Grudgingly, I plodded from my work-den to the front door and opened it to see who was interrupting my quiet evening. Relieved that it wasn't another salesman, I was greeted by my next door neighbor's wife, Linda. Her eyes were a little red, and she seemed pretty nervous, so I promptly showed her the way into my foyer. Seating her inside the entranceway, I once again found myself examining her slight frame with some wonder.

Probably 5'3" or 4", petite and very pretty in a "Barbie Doll" kind of way, she had to be around 35 to 40 years old by now, although she looked perhaps ten years younger. Tonight she was wearing a rather tight white blouse, short-sleeved and unbuttoned nearly to her waist exposing a generous portion of her perfectly proportioned beasts. Her smooth, creamy cleavage was a welcome sight to these sore eyes. She had on a brief pair of shorts that accentuated her slim, shapely hips; something that I hadn't been this close to in quite some time. The faint, sweet aroma of her soft perfume seemed to gather my senses up seductively, and I momentarily forgot what we were about.

Linda and I had never been close, although she and my ex-wife had enjoyed an active social relationship over the years that we'd lived here. Once my wife had left me a few years ago, I seldom had reason to come in contact with any of my neighbors, except to wave across the hedge whenever any of us would pass each other.

Now, here she was, sitting in my foyer, all red-eyed and fretful, hands in her lap, eyes looking at the floor. Shaking my head to break her soft spell, I asked her what I could do for her. She glanced up at my face, and apologized for intruding on my evening. Brushing that aside, I told her that she was not intruding, that I'd just been putting away my work for the day.

Beginning slowly, she related to me that she'd essentially been 'grounded' from watching one of her favorite game shows on TV by her husband, and he'd locked the program out of their cable system so that she couldn't view it even when he wasn't home, which was very often these days. This over yet another of their endless petty arguments.

I'd known Fred and Linda for several years now, and although I never really gotten very sociable with either, I was quick to pick up on the fact that Fred had severe control issues. My ex-wife and I had visited them from time to time when we'd first moved into the neighborhood, but after some extremely tense moments upon our winning a few card games, we'd stopped attending these 'get-togethers' entirely. Only my ex-wife and Linda continued to slip out on shopping trips and such whenever Fred was out of town on business. I simply retreated back into my work-den to labor on various writing projects.

Apparently Fred had used this latest action to punish his wife over some disagreement that they'd had just recently. She said that she'd yelled at him that she'd find somewhere else to watch her program then, to which he'd responded "fine; if you can find some other idiot to allow you to watch that stupid program, have at it!'

At that comment, I suddenly didn't feel as complemented as I might have earlier by her visit. Apparently, I was the idiot that she'd chosen to make that request of. Putting the seemingly innocent insult aside, I quickly confirmed my suspicion that she was here to find out if I were willing to allow her to stop in here to watch her program whenever it was on. She quickly added that she'd not be a bother, and that she would abide by whatever rules that I might apply to her visits.

Looking at her suddenly excited appearance, and the imploring manner in her request, I quickly assessed the proposition. Squirming in her seat and shaking her chest at me didn't hurt the case for her request, either. My work-den was in the east wing of my house, and the 'family-room', containing a 52 inch HD TV system was adjacent to that on the west side. Further west of that room was the kitchen area. The bathrooms in my house were in the eastern and western sides, thus allowing each of us to relieve ourselves in separate areas. Not being interrupted in my work at home was of the greatest importance to me, and if that could be assured, I couldn't think of any reason why this wouldn't work.

I agreed. She informed me that her program came on three times a week, Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 5:00 pm, and lasted an hour. She asked me if she could start the following Wednesday, and I told her that was fine. I impressed upon her however, that I was still working during those hours, and wasn't to be disturbed. She was to alert me only when she was leaving my house to allow me to check the doors upon retiring for the night, and that was essentially it.

DAY ONE

On Wednesday evening, just around 4:30 pm, the doorbell rang. I'd almost forgotten the arrangement that I'd made with Linda about her TV program, but recovering quickly I went to the front door and let her in. Escorting her to the family room, I gave her a quick course on the management of my TV system, and showed her where the bathroom was, and introduced her to my kitchen. She'd brought some snacks for both her and myself, I guess as a courtesy for the use of my TV, and promptly settled in to view her program.

I returned to my work in my den, and tried to forget about my very pretty guest in the next room. Like Monday, she'd dressed in ultimate comfort for herself; a snug yellow tank-top, accentuating her delightful breasts, and a pair of tight shorts that rode high on her thighs. I could see the imprint of her nipples against her top, acknowledging the coolness of my air-conditioning within the house. Her bare, shapely legs, tucked under her on the couch, was the last vision I took with me to my den that night.

I found myself having difficulty in concentrating on my work that night. The picture of her in the next room, tucked up on the couch, watching her program kept intruding on my mind, and the vision of her prominent nipples kept rolling through my thoughts. I had to concentrate particularly hard on my work to get anything done that night.

Just before the hour was up, I walked through the family room to go to the kitchen, just to see if everything were going all right. Linda was still curled up on my couch, concentrating on the last few minutes of her program. It was then that I came very close to agreeing with Fred's assessment of her viewing choice. It was a game show involving hypnosis, whereby the host hypnotist was mesmerizing contestants and compelling, or tricking them, into performing ridiculous tricks and acts for the amusement of the audience.

She acknowledged my presence with a nod, and went back to her program. I continued to the kitchen and poured myself a drink, thinking that the old adage about the 'bubble-headed blond' might not really be so much a myth, and returned to my den. A few minutes later, Linda gently knocked on my door, and announced that she was leaving the house.

While she had been watching her program, I'd given our arrangement some thought. If I didn't want to be interrupted in my work towards the evening on these days, it would be better if I gave her the means to enter and leave the house without bothering me. It would depend a lot upon trust, but the fact that I was home most of the time minimized my risk. I had decided to give Linda the house key that had previously belonged to my ex-wife, so she could let herself in and out on her TV nights.

When I informed her of that decision, she quickly threw herself on me, hugging me tightly. Thanking me profusely, she seemed to be unaware of the affect that her body, warmly plastered against me, was having on my libido. That is, if you spell libido "cock." I quickly pulled myself away from her, hopefully before she discovered that I was even more grateful than her over my decision.

DAY TWO

It was nearly 5:30 pm on Friday that I remembered my arrangement with Linda. Curious, I decided to go to the kitchen to get a drink, naturally checking on the way whether my guest was in the house. As I passed from my den to the kitchen, I noted that Linda was indeed curled up once more in front of my TV, watching the program host hypnotize yet another of his guests, sending them off to perform ridiculous tricks. I got to the kitchen, poured myself a quick shot of orange juice, and turned to go back to my den. On my way through the family room, Linda turned around and said "Russ, come here for a minute and check this out..." Stepping behind the couch, I noticed that the host hypnotist was using a pause in the program to explain some of the routines that he used to put subjects under his control. I watched for a few moments, and found the whole process beyond the realm of reason. So, with a quiet chuckle and an apology, I excused myself to return to my den.

As I sat down to begin my work again, I noted that I was slightly out of breath. I really hadn't done anything to exert myself to that extent, but I quickly put it out of my mind. It wasn't until I noticed the time that I had a bit of a shock. Both my computer and my clock displayed 6:30pm! I had left my room at 5:30pm to get a quick drink and return to my work. I had stopped to look at the TV briefly at Linda's request, but that had taken only a moment. I got up, and quickly returned to the family room to question Linda.

The family room was empty, and the TV was off. I went to the front door to find it locked. I was beginning to think that this 'social' arrangement was already becoming too much of a distraction for me, if I was beginning to lose track of time. I needed my time-related discipline to continue to perform my work at home.

I sat down, and tried to put together the series of events that led up to this state. It wasn't until I agreed to allow Linda to view her favorite program on my TV that things began warping out of predictability. My thoughts had slowly, well maybe not so slowly, begun to fill with thoughts of Linda, clothed; unclothed, in compromising positions; hell, in any position! I was becoming unable to concentrate fully on my work on those days that she was here. If she could only learn to dress up in sackcloth and ashes!. Sigh.

As the weekend progressed, I thought more and more about the loss of time that I had encountered this past Friday. There had to be some explanation for that. Thinking back over the events of that evening, I could find nothing to account for it. The longer I thought about it on Saturday, the more it disturbed me. By now, I was a creature of habit, and there were very few surprises that broke into my life. I had to get to the bottom of it.

Since I was already in the industry, I decided to install a computer-based surveillance system from my den to the kitchen, in order that I might observe myself and my activities during those particular hours. I had to find out what I might be doing during the lost minutes that might account for the time gap experienced in the evening. I only hoped it wouldn't show me drooling, unconscious in some corner of the house to be discovered by a colony of mutated cockroaches.

It took me about half a day to set up the surveillance system, complete with sound that extended from my den, through the family room, to the kitchen. I was prepared to extend that system if the initial results showed me wandering out of this path. For obvious reasons, I did not inform Linda of this setup.

DAY THREE

Monday rolled around, and with minor misgivings I slipped into my regular routine of producing technical manuals for the IT industry. Around 5:10pm I wandered through the family room to see if my guest had arrived. She was already there, curled up on the couch as usual, and engrossed in the game show. I quietly slipped through the room to the kitchen, and made myself an orange juice cocktail.

As I made my way back to the den, Linda looked around and invited me once again to check something out on the TV. As skeptical as I was after the first time, I reluctantly walked up behind her to see what was on the program. The host was again taking advantage of a break in the program to explain some of the finer details of imposing 'instant control' techniques over his hypnotic subjects. Again, after a few minutes, I excused myself to return to my den to continue work, shaking my head.

When I returned to my den, I checked the time closely. Again, it showed about 6:30 pm, nearly one and a half hours after I strolled through the family room. I jumped up to question Linda again, but she was gone, the TV off, and the front door locked. This time though, I had the video display to help me piece it together. For some reason, I was exhausted once more, although I couldn't figure out why.

Re-winding the video and setting it for play, I saw myself working at my desk, checking the time, and leaving the den. My image then walked through the family room to the kitchen. The time line seemed to be as expected. Once I had fixed myself the fruit cocktail, I saw my figure return back through the family room, until Linda stopped me to observe something on the TV. From that time on, things got a little strange.

I remembered leaning over her shoulder to watch the TV screen, but I don't remember standing there frozen in that stance as long as it seemed. All the while I could see Linda's lips moving, speaking into my left ear. The sound system that I'd set up to enhance the video was not sensitive enough to pick up what she was saying, although I could pick up a word or two at times. Words like "...only my voice...," and "...my control...."

She murmured something else into my ear, and I slowly stood up, and moved around to stand between her and the TV. Oddly enough, I found myself thinking that I didn't look that bad on video, for someone who was pushing 50 years old. Tall, fairly slender, with a shock of faintly graying hair hanging down on one side of my face. My habit of running 3 miles a day had kept me from turning into a complete 'computer blob' after all. As I pondered that, I suddenly brought myself back to what was unfolding on the video.

I could hear her fairly clearly now that she had to speak up to the figure before her. She said, "Well, Russ; the first test worked out quite well, don't you think? You don't have to answer that, I already know the answer." With that statement, she gave out a little giggle. "Let me see now, what shall I have you do for me this time?" she continued.

"I know," she said. "I've been housekeeping all day long, and my feet are tired. Kneel down here in front of me, and give me a wonderful foot massage." I slowly knelt down in front of her as instructed, and took off the sandals that she'd worn to my house. I then began to slowly massage her toes, moving through her arches and back to her ankles and back again. All of this I did with infinite care and, as I did so, Linda lay sprawled across the couch, moaning with pleasure.

"That's so nice," she murmured to herself. Soon I saw her right hand slip down into her shorts and move slowly within. I zoomed in on the image and the jerking motion of her arm gave little doubt as to what she was up to. I zoomed out again and watched in awed fascination as she closed her eyes in rapt concentration. All the while, I sat at her feet, stroking her feet sensuously.

By now Linda was gasping with delight. Her left hand unbuttoned her blouse deftly and ventured to her right breast which she began to rub adoringly, tweaking the ruby red nipple.

Watching this little scene, I soon began feeling the heat of the whole situation myself, and my cock began to strain against the material of my shorts. Carefully unbuttoning my fly, I released my now-thoroughly aroused member, and began slowly stroking it as I watched the rest of the video. A little sweat began trickling down the back of my neck as I heard Linda blurt out her next command.

"Lick my toes! Lick my toes!" she squealed. To my amazement, I saw myself slowly raise her feet to my lips and begin nibbling, running my tongue around each toe as lovingly as if it were her nipple or clitoris. Linda was evidently losing control. Her right hand accelerated its thrashing between her thighs, her left was squeezing her tits in a frenzy. On the couch she was writhing in self-inflicted ecstasies, biting her lips, moaning incomprehensible encouragements to me.

Although I was pretty certain that I had no foot fetish, I found myself getting caught up in this thoroughly erotic scene, and sped up the pace with which I tried to satisfy the hunger of my own personal beast.

It wasn't long before Linda froze for just a moment or two, shuddered, let out a giant breath, and groaned herself to an apparently powerful orgasm. I was nearly out of breath myself as I observed my figure continuing to treat her feet to my ministrations. She choked out a brief "Stop!" to catch her breath, and lay there breathing quite heavily for a few minutes as I knelt before her like an obedient puppy. She raised her right hand to her lips and licked her fingertips delicately, savoring her own juices.

Once she had caught her breath, she murmured, "Now I have to see if your ex was right, then I'll let you go."

"Come here, Russ," she instructed. When I'd done so, she slowly reached out her right hand, and gently slid it up the pant leg of my shorts, directly to my groin. Her eyes widened, and a wide smile began to extend across her face. "Ooh lala," she muttered. "Who's a big boy!"

Apparently unable to control her curiosity, she fondled my cock to a powerful erection under my shorts, and withdrew her hand only to instruct me to unbutton and drop my shorts in order to free my very aroused member. Doing as she had asked, my cock now stood proudly jutting out and up, just a few inches from her face. She ran her fingertips over its length and cradled my balls with her hand.

Grinning up at me, she whispered, "Mmm. Melikey, melikey a lot." She sat back on her haunches and, releasing me from her gentle grip, gazed at it fascinated for a few moments, and then instructed me to 'jack-off' in front of her. As I complied, she said laughingly, "Not so stuck up now, eh Russell?"

Not believing what I was seeing myself doing on the monitor, I began to match my video counterpart in stroking myself off towards my long-awaited orgasm. It didn't take long. Long months of self-imposed celibacy had created a virtual dam behind which an explosive reservoir of cum was prepared to erupt.

Since Linda had obviously excluded my mental senses from this process, she had no visual or audible signs from me to alert her when I was about to climax. My orgasm caught her completely by surprise! As I continued to milk my cock of sperm, ropes of the white, milky liquid erupted into her hair, on her face, across her chest and ultimately into her lap.

"Oh baby!" she exclaimed, half-angry and half-delighted at the volcano that had engulfed her. "You needed that, didn't you?" She began to wipe the smears of cum from her cheeks with her hand. It was clear that we both had a mess to clean up. At least I had something handy to do it with; she did not. I saw her quickly looking around the immediate area for something with which she could clean herself. There wasn't anything, and she didn't want to leave me alone in that room to explore any further. Also, while checking around she apparently noted a couple of things that spurred her to faster action. Her TV program was over, and it was getting a bit late.