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Subject: {ASSM} Under the Bell Curve [mc]
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     Under the Bell Curve, by Rajah Dodger
<rdodger@hotmail.com>, Copyright (c) 2000, 2003.  All
rights reserved, except that electronic not-for-profit
reproduction rights only are explicitly granted with
the stipulation that this authorship and permission
note must remain attached.

     I was taking Peg to Rita's Roadhouse for dinner. 
Peg was my date for about the fourth or fifth time
this semester, and we'd had some pretty good times --
movies, concerts, that sort of thing.  She was a
chatty and ebullient brunette, and filled out a
sweater nicely.  The most adventurous I'd gotten with
her was bringing her to the fraternity house for
pick-a-pledge night, but that turned out to be a bad
call on my part.  Obnoxious frat boy antics weren't
her cup of tea, and one of the gang spilled his
bourbon punch on her skirt.  (Her roommate, Janine,
was even less thrilled -- it was her skirt.  I wound
up paying the dry-cleaning bill.)  Still, Peg didn't
quit seeing me, and she did give great hug.  Best of
all, she wasn't bored when I talked about my classes. 
That's a marvel, because usually when I tell people
I'm in statistics their eyes glaze over.

     We were waiting at a stoplight and I was lovingly
describing the finer points of avoiding alpha and beta
errors using two-tail tests.  Peg was doing her best
to appear interested when suddenly she stiffened and
shivered all over.  I looked at her, concerned, and
asked if she was all right.  "Yes," she said, but her
voice was colorless, without a hint of her usual
animation.  I continued, asking her what just
happened, and her answer blew me away:

     "I hear and obey my command phrase, Teacher.  I
wait for instruction."

     Command phrase?  This was too weird for words.  I
looked around for a TV show camera crew, but all I saw
was the guy behind me waiting impatiently for me to
move since the light had changed.  I pulled through
the intersection and found a convenient place to park.
 Then I bit my lip, took a deep breath and tried a
question. "Tell me your command phrase, Peg."

     "You told me *high chi-square*, Teacher.  I wait
for instruction."

     This was getting weirder and weirder.  I wondered
if she was pulling my leg, but she'd never shown any
inclination to practical jokes.  I had this sudden
flash of the computer at the end of the movie 2001,
singing Bicycle Built for Two.  Well, if Peg were
really under some kind of hypnotic programming, then
she should follow orders.  Like any good scientist, I
had to test my hypothesis.

     "Lift your left hand, Margaret."

     It was spooky -- she raised her left hand and
held it in the air near the dashboard.  I bit my lip,
tossed around the odds -- like I said, I know
statistics -- and put my hand on her leg.

     She didn't move -- didn't even blink an eye.  I
slid my hand up her leg to the edge of her panties. 
Still no response.  I had to take a minute to get my
own reactions under control.  I cupped my hand over
the front of her panties; her thighs were warm to the
touch and I could feel the rustling of pubic hair
under the fabric, but Peg didn't do anything.

     Well, in for a nickel, in for a dollar.  I lifted
my hand and cupped her breast.  Wow.  It felt soft and
heavy, and when I rubbed my thumb over it I could feel
her nipple harden.  Peg didn't even blink.

     I yanked my hand back like it was burnt.  Now I
was really freaked out.  I told her to lower her hand,
and when it was safely in her lap again I did the
mental equivalent of howling at the moon while
cowering in fright.  Here I was on a public street,
with my date sitting obediently just waiting for me to
tell her what to do.  It would have been a wet dream
come true if I'd had any idea how far the control
went, or how to shut it off... or the real kicker,
where it had come from in the first place.

     Peg was still sitting quietly next to me.  I
decided to try a shot in the dark.  "Margaret," using
my most formal voice, "repeat your commands for me."

     "Yes, Teacher," she said in a very subdued
un-Peglike voice.  "My master trigger, when You are
with me in person, is 'High chi-square'; if You wish
to command me over the phone the full trigger is
'Insignificant results cannot have a high chi-square'.
 When You wish to release me the clear phrase is
'Normal Curve, Peg'."

     It was summertime, but I was deathly cold in that
car.  I'd thought of a couple of possible pitfalls in
this.  Not the least was that I was definitely not the
"You" who had given Peg these commands in person.  And
if she thought I was that "You" then there wouldn't be
any way to find out who the real one was.  "And your
memory, Margaret?  What happens to your memory when
the clear phrase is used?"

     She responded in the same spooky voice, "I
remember only what you have told me to remember,
Teacher."

     I paused before the next question.  "And you will
follow all of my orders, Margaret?"

     I thought I saw her flinch, but it may have been
just the flickering of the outside street lights.  "I
hear and obey, Teacher.  I am Your good student."

     Whoever had done this seemed to have all of the
bases covered.  I didn't believe it.  Not for one
minute.  But I couldn't resist the urge to find out. 
We were supposed to be going to the Roadhouse, but it
was too likely we'd run into someone who knew Peg
there.  Instead I drove to a little Italian place on
the other side of downtown.  I'd been there before,
and remembered the food was reasonably priced and the
lighting was conveniently low.  While I drove, I
reminded Peg to use her normal tone of voice and asked
her if she liked Italian food.  Her response was less
than helpful -- "Whatever you serve, Teacher, I will
eat."  I could see there were some rough edges on this
hypnosis thing.  I hoped one of them didn't reach back
and bite my head off.  I instructed Peg that after we
were seated at the restaurant she was to go to the
restroom, remove her panties and bring them back to
me.  Also, as an afterthought, that I could touch her
anywhere without complaint.  That seemed like a good
test.

     We parked the car and I cleared my throat before
saying "Normal Curve, Peg".  She shook her head and
looked confused for a second, then looked around. 
"Chet, weren't we going to the Roadhouse?" she asked. 
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, and
answered her.  "Well, I thought I was getting too
predictable with that, and I hear this place is great
for Italian."  When we entered the restaurant, I asked
for one of the booths and the waitress found us a nice
spot somewhat secluded from the general customer
traffic.  We sat down and ordered drinks; I had a
ginger ale, Peg asked for a daiquiri.  As soon as the
waitress left, Peg excused herself to go to the ladies
room.

     I waited, nervously twiddling my thumbs while the
waitress brought our drinks and left again.  I did
have enough presence of mind to pull out a pen, write
down the control phrases and stick them in my wallet. 
After what seemed like a long time, I saw Peg coming
back through the restaurant -- with something clutched
in her hand.  I stood up and let her slide into the
booth, and she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek
before sitting down next to me.  "Sorry it took so
long, Chet, you know how we women are," she said
pleasantly.  As she spoke, she opened her purse and
without looking at it pulled out a pair of powder-blue
panties and put them in my hand.  "So," she continued,
"did you at least get a good grade from your professor
on that project?"

     I slid the panties into my pocket, trying hard to
keep a normal look on my face.  It was like her hand
and her head weren't connected.  "Yes, though he still
counted off for our not having been specific about how
we computed the degrees of freedom."  I put my hand on
her leg, but her eyes never left mine.  "I wouldn't be
surprised if a lot of the class doesn't drop the
course after that stunt, though.  What about your
week?"

     Peg lifted her drink to her lips and responded. 
"Oh, nothing special.  Really, the hardest part of my
week was helping Janine get through her first major
report.  I guess they don't teach writing skills in
the big city the way they did at home."  If I didn't
know how much Peg liked her roommate, I'd have thought
she was being snide.  While she spoke, I slid my hand
far enough up her leg to be sure she had no panties
on.  Wow!  Here I was with my hand between Peg's
thighs and she was calmly sipping her daiquiri and
talking about her roommate as if nothing was
happening.  Well, maybe nothing was happening in her
mind, but I had a hard-on that wouldn't quit.

     About then the waitress came back and I had to
get my hands back above the table to handle the menu
and order dinner for us.  When the waitress left, I
skimmed my hand back up Peg's leg until my fingers
were resting comfortably in her pubic hair.  She
continued to talk about her week, and I managed to
divide my attention between my activities above and
below the table.  When I rocked my hand from side to
side, she responded by opening her legs. That gave me
enough access to stroke her labia, which quickly got
tangibly wet.

     That finally drew the first obvious response from
her.  "So with the concert coming up --"  She broke
off what she was saying, and her eyes got big, then
she closed them and took a deep breath.  I licked my
lips, but then I got this mental image of Meg Ryan
from When Harry Met Sally -- the scene where she fakes
an orgasm in the restaurant.  I didn't know if Peg was
a screamer, and this wasn't a good place to find out. 
Anyway, I'd pretty much proved that the control on her
was real, so I took my hand back, wiped it on my
napkin and lowered her skirt where it had gotten
pushed up.  When I was satisfied everything looked
normal, I triggered her, told her not to notice the
absence of her panties for the rest of the evening,
then said "Normal Curve, Peg" and mentally held my
breath.

     She blinked, twice, and her first comment was "I
wonder why the food's taking so long?"  From that
point until dinner was over I looked at everything she
said or did for double meanings, but there weren't
any. As far as anyone could tell, we were just a
couple of college kids having a friendly dinner
together.  And that's just what we had.  The rest of
our dinner was like any of our other dates, except
that I had a pair of blue panties in my pocket and an
erection that wouldn't go down.

     We both had early classes the next day, so I took
her back to her apartment and she invited me as far as
her living room. I thanked her for a good time and
opened my arms for a hug and kiss.  The kiss was okay
-- a warm peck on the lips, and the hug was her usual
full-body approach.  I noticed that she smelled spicy,
like new-mown grass.  If she noticed my erection, she
certainly didn't do anything to encourage it and I
didn't feel like pressing my luck.  Besides, Janine
was studying in her room, and I wasn't up to trying to
deal with two girls at once.

     I went home, jacked off, and spent half of the
night thinking about Peg instead of studying for my
English Lit exam.  Getting into her pants this way
seemed like cheating -- but I decided since I wasn't
making any headway otherwise I might as well go for
it.

     *****

     Peg had a wind ensemble concert coming up and the
clarinet section had a lot of evening rehearsals
scheduled, so I spent the better part of the next two
weeks in the library reading about hypnosis.  We set a
movie date for the Saturday after the concert.  I
wanted to call her in the meantime and do some more
tests on her control, but I also wanted to be around
her in case something went wrong.  I finally came up
with an idea I thought was workable, then spent three
days working on how to phrase it correctly.

     Wednesday night I called Peg, ostensibly to wish
her luck.  While we were on the phone, I gave her the
trigger phrase and told her this: "Margaret, tomorrow
night at the concert you will feel every note of the
music passing through your body, from the tips of your
wiggling toes to the points of your nipples.  Although
you will become more and more aroused as the concert
progresses, you will not come, nor will you touch
yourself in order to increase or relieve your arousal.
 After the concert, you will wait for me backstage and
when I give you a hug you may finally come, but may
not make a sound while doing so."  I had her repeat
the instructions, blew her a kiss, remembered to say
"Normal Curve, Peg" and hung up.

     The next night I dressed up and went to the
concert.  Wind instruments aren't my favorite, but the
music was okay, and Peg looked good in her black
concert skirt and white silk blouse. I looked
carefully as the concert dragged on, but I couldn't
tell whether she was showing any effects from my
suggestion.

     When the concert ended, I waited a few minutes
then wandered around back stage.  I looked around the
crowd until I spotted Peg, sitting by the punchbowl. 
Her face was flushed and she kept rubbing her hands up
and down nervously over her knees.  That looked
promising, and I came up on her from behind, tapped
her on the shoulder and said "Nice concert, Peg."  She
turned around with a gasp, wrapped her arms around me
and hugged me hard enough to break some ribs and so
close that her crotch was rubbing up against mine. 
"Oh, Chet, I'm so glad you came!"  If she wasn't
careful with the way she was hugging me, that was
going to have a double meaning.  As I put my arms
around her, she suddenly shuddered all over, buried
her face in my shoulder and pasted herself all over
me.  I stroked her back gently as the scent of her
hair surrounded me, and focused on not coming in my
own pants.

     Eventually her spasms passed, and she stood up
shakily a few inches away from me.  "I'm sorry," she
mumbled in obvious embarrassment, "I guess I've just
been working so hard for this concert. Would you like
to come over and visit for a while?"  I had figured to
wait for our movie date to go further with her, but
she sounded so sexy and vulnerable that I couldn't
turn her down.  "Sure thing, hon," I said.  "Are you
okay driving or do you want a lift?"

     "I'll be okay, but thanks for asking.  I guess
the music really got to me tonight."  She kissed me,
quickly but forcefully, and headed off toward the
parking lot.  I gave her a ten-minute head start, and
then went to get my car.

     *****

     When I got to Peg's place, her roommate Janine
was there.  I didn't really want her around, but I
didn't want to seem rude in front of Peg.  Peg gave me
a quick but very enthusiastic hug, then went to fix a
round of drinks while I sat on the sofa.  There was
some kind of drumming CD playing -- tribal chants,
grunting, that sort of thing.  Not my taste, but the
rhythms certainly got the blood flowing.  When Peg got
back with the drinks, I looked around and realized
Janine was missing.  "Hey, where'd your roommate go?"
I asked.  Peg sat on the sofa next to me, saying "Oh,
she had big plans tonight, Chet, you must have missed
seeing her leave.  I think she's going to some kind of
all-night rave."  I mentally shrugged my shoulders; my
opportunity was finally here.  I watched Peg as she
sipped her drink; she was moving sexily and
unconsciously to the tom-tom rhythm of the drums.  I
took another sip myself and triggered her. "*High
chi-square*, Margaret."

     She stopped moving, and shivered all over for
just a second.  I decided I wanted her undressed, and
it seemed like the words were barely out of my mouth
before she had put her drink down and started to
unbutton her blouse, uncovering her well-filled white
bra.  In no time she had shimmied out of her skirt
leaving her g-string on, and was sliding the bra cups
down showing me that her nipples were perked up
already.  She came up to the sofa and started
unbuttoning my dress shirt... did I ask her to do
that? Maybe I wasn't specific when I told her to
undress.  Anyway it was hard to concentrate between
her full breasts brushing against my face and the
blood-stirring drumming from the stereo.  "Shoes..." I
mumbled, and Peg was already kneeling on the floor
taking off my shoes and socks, rubbing each of my feet
between her breasts, then running her hands lightly up
between my legs to lift and fondle my balls.  Wait...
what happened to my pants?  Who cared when her tongue
was painting hot lines up and down the shaft of my
cock.

     "Maybe you'd feel more comfortable lying on the
sofa instead of sitting up," she suggested.  That
sounded like a good idea, and I shifted positions with
one leg on the sofa and one dangling off to give her
hand more room to wander under my balls.  She turned
around and straddled my face, saying "I've been so hot
for you since the concert, Chet, see what you did to
me?"  Her labia were all puffy, and her vaginal petals
were dark red and flared out.  I wondered what they
tasted like, so I stuck out my tongue.  She shivered
all over again and settled down pressing herself to my
face.  She was oily and kind of tart, but not
unpleasant.  She was doing nice things to my cock,
playing with it, occasionally taking the head in her
mouth, and I explored her with my tongue until she
ground herself down hard on my face and shook all
over.

     She must have been using some kind of scented
body wash -- I recognized the same perfume from the
concert, but the drinks must have gotten to me because
everything after that was a haze.

     My aching balls when I woke up the next morning
weren't hazy at all; I had to walk bowlegged to the
shower.  Hypnosis was obviously great stuff, but I
really needed to watch my liquor.  As I was getting my
books ready for class, I saw a note on my calendar
about having dinner Saturday with Peg and Janine.  I
scratched my head, wondering why Peg had changed our
plans from going to the movies.  I was disappointed,
since I really wanted to see how far this control
thing went -- and the next time I'd be sure not to
drink too much.

*****

     Classes Friday were hell, not from the subject
matter but from the erection that refused to die.  My
mind kept wandering from the professor's voice to the
picture of Peg straddling my face, and only luck kept
me from having to answer any direct questions.  I had
dinner at the fraternity house for a change; the jokes
about who had and hadn't gotten any rang hollow now,
but I didn't see any reason to let the guys know that
boring Chet was now one of the lucky ones.  Saturday
was almost as bad; I did my laundry and worked on my
computer lab project, but alternated between wishing I
was with Peg and wishing Janine would be anywhere
else.

     Saturday evening at 7:30 found me at Peg and
Janine's door, a small spray of flowers in my hand. 
Janine opened the door, and if she noticed my
momentary disappointment at not seeing Peg she chose
not to comment on it.  "Why Chet, how sweet of you!"
she said as she took the flowers and held the door for
me.  "I'll put these into a vase -- why don't you go
into the living room, I think Peg wanted to talk to
you before dinner."

     When I entered the living room, Peg rose from the
sofa and came over to give me one of her patented
enthusiastic full-body hugs.  I wished that I'd been
able to put her under control so that I'd feel safe
squeezing her bottom; as it was, I let my hand lie at
the base of her spine and she didn't complain at all. 
She was wearing that spicy perfume again, I noticed. 
"Chet, I've been waiting for you all day," she
bubbled, "I've got a little something I want to show
you before we eat.  It's kind of a surprise!"

     She ushered me to the sofa and plopped down on my
right side; to my surprise, Janine joined us and sat
on my left while handing me a glass of iced tea.  Peg
grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and
flipped it on.  I was shocked to see it was some kind
of amateur adult video, with a naked girl's back to
the camera as she knelt in front of a guy on a sofa,
unbuttoning his shirt and pulling his pants down
before giving him one whale of a blowjob.  You could
tell by the look on his face... wait a minute... 

     I started to jump up from the sofa as I realized
that was *my* face, as I watched my sweet Peg swing
herself up and spread her legs over my face on the TV
screen, one hand on my cock as I eagerly licked her
out.  But Janine held me on the left side, Peg held me
on the right, and when Peg's hand fluttered down over
my crotch I realized that this could be a very good
surprise after all.  Besides, I wanted to see what had
happened after my own memory of that night gave out.

     On the television, Peg got off the sofa, turned
around with her bottom facing the camera, and kissed
me -- a long wet deep kiss that I could feel even off
the tape.  She wiggled her bottom at the camera; you
could see the moisture on her pussy lips between her
parted legs.  She sat up on my stomach, her breasts
swinging with the rhythm of the drums, and slid
sinuously down to my crotch where she proceeded to
maneuver herself up and down on the videotaped
erection.  I must have been really into it -- my body
on the sofa was writhing and humping beneath her and
the sofa was squeaking like crazy, although for some
reason I wasn't saying anything.  Peg came again,
bouncing up and down on my cock like a piledriver, and
grunting out "Oh Yes, Oh YES, OHHH YEAAHHHH!"

     The television screen was one thing; real life
was something else again.  Both girls had their hands
in my lap, one or the other had unzipped me while my
eyes were glued to the screen, my legs were spread out
over each of the girls' legs.  Their hands were busy
inside my shorts, and my cock was threatening to
burst.  I almost did lose it when I watched Peg on the
TV screen climb off me.  My video erection was
standing straight up, larger than I'd ever seen it and
colored a dangerous dark red.

     On the screen, Peg giggled.  The Chet on the sofa
looked at her with a piteously needy face, and she
spoke while giving the camera a half-glance.  "Poor
Chet," she said, "Here I've had all this fun and I bet
you're just aching to come, aren't you?"  The me on
the sofa opened his mouth but nothing came out; he
settled for nodding his head vigorously and rocking
his hips in little in-and-out motions.  "That's okay,"
she cooed, "I know all about it."  She knelt by the
side of the sofa and kissed her way around my/his
nipples and down his/my stomach, finally taking each
of his balls in her mouth and swirling her tongue
against them.  "I love these," she continued, "and I
know Janine's gonna love them just as much!"

     I was trying to reconcile the sweet, demure Peg I
knew with the sexual animal on the screen, not to
mention keep my eyes focused while one girl twisted
and rubbed my cockhead and the other did obscene
things under my balls.  On the television, Peg was
standing by the sofa with one hand on my thigh. 
"Count with me," she cooed.  The version of me on the
sofa opened his mouth and rasped out hoarsely along
with her:  "one" ... "two" ... "three!"

     At the count of three Peg tapped the sofa-me with
one finger on his balls.  Oh how he came, cock
spurting and muscles spasming, cum flying everywhere,
even up into his hair.  She kept that one finger busy
touching one spot and another until his legs lay
bonelessly half-on and half-off the sofa and his cock
was just barely dribbling from the end.  In the real
sofa, I was doing the same thing except that I still
had my shorts on, shorts that were now soaked and
dripping; the girls had held my legs open so that I
couldn't squeeze their hands, and their fingers slid
repeatedly over the length of my cum-coated cock. 
First Peg, then Janine swirled their hand around
inside my sodden cotton then lifted their fingers to
my lips.  It seemed the most natural thing in the
world to lick their fingers until they were glistening
clean.

     Peg leaned in front of me, her eyes shining
brightly into mine.  "You know," she told me,
"Janine's a psychology major.  I thought you were
never going to make a move on me, so I made a deal
with her.  She taught me how to hypnotize you."   I
felt Janine pulling my pants off; I found enough
strength to lift my hips to make that task easier. 
Despite the incredible way I'd just exploded, my cock
was getting hard again.  "Our deal was that after I
got you inside me, she could do whatever she wanted
with you."

     I felt lips envelop my cock and a cum-slick
finger exploring between my cheeks.  I had questions
but the erotic inputs were drowning them all out.  Peg
beamed at me, watching the reactions cross my face. 
"You know, it's just as well you're the bashful type;
this way we get you all to ourselves.  You won't be
chasing after any other girls at college now, will
you?"

     I started to say yes, I mean no I won't, but her
lips met mine then and I heard Janine's voice saying
something about taking turns and things got fuzzy
again...

***** {END} ***** Originally written 2000-05-06;
revised 2003-09-22, 4611 words

     This story was workshopped at the FishTank:
http://www.desdmona.com/fishtank.asp

Copyright (c) 2000, 2003 Rajah Dodger
(rdodger@hotmail.com)

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


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