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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.



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