Unbroen Induction

Copyright Miss Irene Clearmont © 2012 (September-October)

Synopsis:

They are an ordinary couple... Bernard is a small businessman who is bored of sex with his plump wife Mary. Mary, on the other hand, is frustrated and seeks sexual solace on the Internet. There she finds films, ideas and obsessions that make her long for a rather different approach to her sexuality. Then follows a strange event at a stage show that causes Bernard to become easily influenced by Mary and her wicked friend Evelyn. Evelyn the loner. Still single as well as being the teenage seducer of Mary many years ago; she has an agenda, an agenda that is a limitless gluttonous feast of lust at anyone and everyone's expense...

Chapters.

Setting The Scene.

Stage Fright.

Safety Curtain Raised.

Writing The Script.

First Rehearsal.

Command Performance.

Setting The Scene.

-------------------------

The match was over and now, after all the beer and snacks it was time for sex!

Bernard watched his wife enter the room and felt a feeling of emotionlessness boredom. Even though she had spent all of the second half of the match preparing for this, he was really just not interested.

Not at all...

Sex had become a duty, just an bore to Bernard!

All he wanted was to go to bed and sleep. Sleep until late on Sunday morning.

Of course there had been a good time! Years ago, when it was all they could do to keep each other's hands from touching each other's flesh in public. Those days when he had fucked her for half an hour before he finally allowed himself to climax as she writhed under his pumping prick and screamed blue murder before he drove deep and pinned her struggling form on the bed.

But those days were gone...

So, it was with a feeling of disinterest that he followed her to the bedroom to perform his duty. Mary was dressed to kill. Stockings and corset, handcuffs dangled from her waist and the heels were so high that she could only wear them in bed.

"Come on darling, let's do something different..."

'How often it had started with those words,' he thought, 'and how often it had ended with a squib as he lay on her and did his duty.'

With a bored glance at her, he undressed and threw his clothes in an untidy heap on the floor. His lack of interest showing in the flaccid state of his cock.

"I just want to put some spice into our lives. I want so much, I need so much," she pleaded. "I want you to suck my pussy and ass, I want to writhe and climax like a train. I want to be fucked and tied. I want you to be helpless at my feet, I want you to come in a fountain that stains the ceiling."

"We have never done any of that..."

"I know, Bernard, and that's why I want it so badly! Our sex was always so straight, so direct," she said as she ran her hand to his prick. "It was great in our twenties, OK in our thirties, but in our forties I want to go somewhere, develop, grow and experience all that lust again!"

He looked down and saw her hand cupping his balls. He saw the soft cock fall to point at the carpet. Bernard could not, would not and did not get an erection.

Tears came to her eyes and she wiped her gloved hand over the drops, making the makeup smear and change from erotic bitch to smeared grey in the candle light.

"Is this how it's going to be?" she said as she stopped herself sobbing. "Is football, the pub and the occasional holiday in Cornwall going to be how we pass our time?"

Bernard grimaced and slipped into bed.

"I really am not in the mood for this conversation," he said.

"You are never in the mood! All you ever do is avoid the discussion. I want to find the problem. Is it me? Am I just no longer a turn on? What has happened to the nine inches of cock that you used to push into me? Where has it gone?"

A soft snort came from Bernard and she realised that he had actually drifted off to sleep as she had spoken. The ultimate disrespect, the definitive show of complete and utter indifference.

With a sigh Mary wiped the last tear from her cheek and left the bedroom. Her heels clicked on the floor, her hips swayed and her large breasts swung, but she was alone. There was no man to beguile, no husband to lure, no lover to cheat with. As far as sex was concerned, Mary was all alone with her thoughts, lusts and desires.

She switched on the computer and waited while the screen lit her with an eerie glow. This was it then! Sex sites full of delicious men and women who enjoyed their lusts twenty four hours a day at the beckoning call of the mouse.

She logged on and surfed.

Her left hand between her thighs and her right controlling her passage from one site to the next as she gorged on fantasy and was exposed to all the things that she desired, without ever becoming a participant.

Exposed, tempted and excited.

Contaminated and corrupted.

But debased on her own as her own fingers ploghed her furrow..

Stage Fright.

-------------------------

The theatre was crowded, every seat taken with an expectant public who had paid to enjoy a show which promised to be sheer amusement at the expense of others!

Mary and Bernard sat in the front row, looking up at a stage that was at eye level. The curtain was down and the audience was settling down, mumbling, muttering and still sliding into their seats.

"This should be good," said Bernard with a whisper. "It's such fun to watch this sort of stuff! All these idiots making fools of themselves for our amusement."

Mary snorted at his rather boorish comment: "I really don't why I came with you tonight, I hate all this rather childish hypnotism stuff, it's all a sham anyway! I should have gone to Evelyn's, she's more entertaining."

"Your best friend Evelyn is poison," mumbled Bernard under his breath. "I hate the bitch!"

Mary only caught the words 'friend' and 'bitch' properly. Then she figured what he had said and her lips pulled into a tight line. He would regret that! She would make him pay for saying that about the friend that she loved so much.

Mary thought back to the times long before she met Bernard, the times when the first fumbles in the dark had been with Evelyn as they discovered sex together without the insistent pressure of some boy, with hands down knickers and kisses that felt so wrong and so delightful as they climaxed in each other's arms. Evelyn was a sort of 'first love' for Mary, a reference point on the road to adulthood and a simple time that she longed to return to.

The music started, the lights dimmed.

A brassy fanfare.

The curtain raised and the show began.

Michael Bowswill came onto the stage and bowed. After a few of his rather blasé comments and a few weak one liners, Mary switched off and took a sly look at the man beside her. Not Bernard but the hunk on her right.

Bernard seemed entranced with the whole show thing, his mouth was open slightly and he laughed at every one of the weak jokes that were the introduction to a show that promised to be so banal that she could not help but suppress a yawn.

'Whatever happened to the intelligent, forceful man that I married,' she thought. 'He's become nothing more than a sad couch potato.... Shit! I should have stuck with Evelyn, at least she knew how to make a girl shiver and orgasm with a yell!' Mary suppressed a giggle at that thought and started to think about all the fun that first-sex had been.

With her thought running in that vein for five minutes she jumped when the woman behind her tapped her on the shoulder. Suddenly she realised that Michael Bowswill had invited her and Bernard to come onto the stage!

For a moment she hesitated as the audience laughed at her discomfiture. Bernard stood and took her hand and in a daze she followed him onto the stage.

"Front row seats are always dangerous," said the hypnotist with a sly laugh as the couple came self-consciously onto the stage and introduced themselves.

When he found out that Bernard owned a large plumbing and hydraulics company he raised a few toilet laughs before he turned to Mary.

"So, Mary, what is the most irritating thing about your husband?"

For a moment she was so tempted to say that he was a complete bore in bed, a limp uninspired lover with no imagination and no taste for the exotic. With all the audience and Bernard waiting she simply said, "Bernard smokes!"

The hypnotist laughed as though this was the funniest thing in the world and turned to ask Bernard the same question.

Bernard smirked and said; "Mary doesn't smoke!"

The audience thought that this was a very funny riposte and took a moment to stop clapping and laughing.

"Then let's see what I can do!" said Michael with a flourish.

This was the real meat of the show. Audience members were chosen at random from the first two rows and then hypnotised, humiliated or perhaps cured of some character defect or addiction. Smoking, overeating and suchlike. With a flourish Michael pulled a gold coin from his pocket. He decided that Bernard was more susceptible to the induction and began his little routine to pull him into that trance like state where he would be almost unconscious.

A few words, a slow movement that had a slight rhythm. He felt Bernard slip into a state of dulled awareness before he began with Mary. She was so much more resistant, he felt. She fought the gleam and movement of the coin, she tried to fend off his voice, but in the end he was satisfied that both of them were deeply under. Induction had been achieved, now suggestion would commence.

He made Bernard obey a few simple commands and then tried with Mary, but even though she had fallen into a state of hypnotic suggestion she was hesitant and insensitive to his touch.

"Bernard, cigarettes are so bad for you, they taste so bad... bitter, sour and you can not help retching at the taste."

His soft voice soothed and flattered as the patter dripped like honey. He got nodded agreement as he worked on Bernard with a sure touch and then moved to Mary. Now he was doing the opposite. The sweetness in his voice told her that smoking was 'the gentle art of smoking'. That smoking was sexy and strong, that smoking cigarettes were sexy, erotic and exciting. Women that smoked were rulers of their fate. That there would be rewards...

Finally he was satisfied that both would play the game, he relaxed and brought them back to induction without freeing them from the hypnosis.

With an audience that laughed at his every little sly smile he offered a cigarette to Bernard who refused it with a sour face. As he turned to Mary she reached out and took a cigarette from his hand and searched her handbag for Bernard's lighter.

She took a deep pull and felt the taste and rush of the nicotine whilst the audience clapped and laughed in delight. The moment of that first pull as she filled her lungs felt so dreamy, almost an erotic push, strong and sexual.

Michael Bowswill took a bow and put his arms about Mary and Bernard's shoulders so that they could bow too. Somehow Mary felt assaulted, her mind was a mass of contradictions and questions. She had her cigarette, why was the audience laughing? With a quick movement she slipped from the hypnotist and pulled Bernard by the hand.

Her intention was to get to their seats and figure out what everyone was finding so amusing. She tugged Bernard away from the surprised Michael and led him to the steps at the side of the stage.

The audience laughed and clapped.

Now she had two directions, back to their seats or up the aisle and out of the theatre. She cast a glance at the hypnotist who was following behind them and decided that she wanted to exit.

Leave.

She had to go, she had to finish her cigarette, she had to clear the daze from her mind in the fresh air, her thoughts fell like stones from the sky and confused her.

She tugged Bernard, who seemed in a daze and led him out.

"Wait!" called Michael. "I need to release you from the suggestion..."

But his call was in vain and Mary led her dazed husband out of the Theatre into the fresh air of a Birmingham street.

"I'll drive," she said as she searched for the keys in his pockets. "Give me the car keys."

Bernard looked confused and then passed her the keys.

For a moment Mary was overcome by a strange feeling. Bernard always insisted on driving, he preferred it to having a drink when they went out and here he was just meekly passing the keys to her!

"Follow me," she said.

The fresh air had woken her up so she took a cigarette from her bag and lit up as she led the dazed Bernard to the car. She felt a fog in her mind, the tattered remains of the induction that had not been cancelled, the suggestions that lingered and gathered around her consciousness without quite becoming real enough to focus on.

As she drove them she looked at Bernard. He seemed fixated by the movement of traffic, almost as if he were almost half asleep. His mind was out of phase, self-will had slipped to one side and suggestion had reasserted itself. His wife, Mary, she would look after him, she knew what to do, she always did.

"I'm going straight home," she said as she flicked the ash from the open window as the car stopped at the traffic lights onto Haden Way. "That's OK isn't it?"

"Of course," mumbled Bernard.

The trip was fast and smooth. King's Heath was just ten minutes from the centre at this time of night and the open window and the cigarette freshened her mind. Every now and again Mary cast a glance at Bernard who was not his usual self. Normally he would be complaining that she had taken him from the show, that she was driving too fast and that he needed a cigarette.

The thought brought her back as she looked in her hand and then at Bernard. Surely he smoked and she didn't! On the other hand... It was all so confusing! No, she smoked and he hated it, that was right.

At last they were home.

She led Bernard to bed as though he was drunk.

'Maybe he is!' she thought as she closed the door behind her and lit her fifth cigarette of the night. For a minute she stood by the door and tried to get her thoughts together. It was not that she did not remember the show, it was just that it was all in a haze, a fog of misperception and confusion. Like a telescope looked into from the wrong end.

Mary slipped off her dress and blouse and sat down at the computer. Her intention was to check her E mails. Her actions took her to her most vivid porn sites.

Within five minutes she had orgasmed twice. The flickering screen, the vibrant colours, the hypnotic clicking and the moaning of the women. She watched a woman mistreat a man. She saw a woman sliding in ecstasy over the face of a female victim. Mary became entranced by the bright black latex, the oil that lubricated the sex, the clink of the chains and the lascivious, decadent enjoyment that filled the porn stars as they danced for her and filled their cunts with pricks, hands and rubber.

It was all so entrancing and enticing, it was all just training for her confused state of mind.

*****

She woke first, that was a given. Mary always woke up first.

Mary made a coffee in the kitchen and sipped it as she wondered at the feelings that coursed through her head as she lit her first cigarette of the day. As she stubbed it out, Bernard traipsed into the kitchen and wordlessly made a coffee for himself.

"Take out the rubbish, dear," said Mary.

It was one of her little obsessions that the kitchen bin had to be emptied every day. Normally she asked him to empty it out and then found herself with the bag and the dustbin lid in her hand as he read the paper and sipped his coffee.

"Yes, dear," he mumbled as he pulled the bag full of refuse from the bin and went outside to do her bidding.

As he went, she felt a slight satisfaction to see him so docile. Nice that he actually did what he was told for a change! When Bernard returned he took the paper and sat with coffee in one hand and gave her a small glance.

"I feel a little woozy," he commented as he flipped through the pages.

"The coffee will sort that out," she replied. "Today we have to do some shopping and then I have to prepare for tomorrow."

"What's on tomorrow?" he asked.

"Evelyn is coming over and I have to cook the Sunday roast."

"Oh, good," he replied without the usual comment that he made under his breath.

"We'll go now while the shops are still empty," she said.

Without a word, Bernard folded the paper and left the kitchen. Mary heard the sound of him finding the keys and then pulling on his jacket and checking his wallet. She shook her head in a small flick of disbelief and hurried to join him. Never had he jumped to her suggestions so quickly.

"I'll drive!" she said.

He tossed the keys to her and stood by the open front door as she pulled on her shoes and found her hand bag. This was another first! The bins, the shopping, no protest or attempt to escape her friend and now he was just tossing her the keys as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

As she drove to the local supermarket she wound down the window and lit another cigarette. It helped her concentrate on wondering what it was, that had happened between yesterday and today, that seemed to have caused a small change in her husband's attitude to her.

The show last night?

Mary realised that her memory of the show was rather hazy, she knew that they had got back early, but the details escaped her.

"Do you have to smoke so much?" asked Bernard in a small voice.

It sounded as if he had been summoning up the courage to comment all the while and not until she had flicked the remains into the traffic had he dared speak.

"I like it, so you will just have to live with it!"

There was a silence from her husband at her rather peremptory reply and then he spoke: "If you like it..." He paused for a moment before continuing, "then by all means."

The supermarket was already half full and Mary trailed around the shelves deciding what to toss into the trolley that Bernard was pushing behind her. Of course, normally he passed the trolley to her and then checked out the magazines, DVD's and the electrical gadgets that were on display.

This time Mary told him to follow her and not comment as she struggled to decide whether a capon or a duck would make the best roast for the Sunday.

Just two hours later she was driving them home again. It was almost a strange feeling having Bernard as a passenger instead of at the wheel, but she enjoyed every minute.

*****

The sound of the end of the first half of the football match wafted into the kitchen from the lounge where Mary was making the stuffing for the huge duck that she had settled on. Fresh orange, minced pork with fresh Basil and then chopped pine nuts. She hummed as she worked and kept half an ear out for the start of the adverts that would allow her to call Bernard from the screen for ten minutes help in the kitchen at half time.

"Darling," she called, "just pop in here for a minute and do the washing up."

Bernard came and silently did the washing up, stacked all the tools of the vast meal that Mary was working on and then dried all the plates.

In the lounge she could hear the commentators come back on again as the match was about to restart.

"Peel the potatoes as well, there's a love," she said.

Now she would test his fortitude! Now she would find out the limits of his new attitude. Now she would find out if he was just fooling around.

Mary had started to think that Bernard was playing some sort of strange mind game with her. The last few hours had been an almost out-of-body experience. Gone was all the bickering that went hand in hand with a bored look on his face. Gone were the half breathed comments of which just one word was enough to make her temper boil. Taking him from his beloved footy would really test him...