FZ - CARMEL

I became a confirmed bisexual that night. From the early morning hour I when finally left Acropolis, I began noticing other girls, other women as much as sexual partners than competitors. I had seen so little of Womanhood! Women always think of ourselves as more observant, more in tune with people than men are, but as the weeks followed, I learned otherwise. I was as transparent as glass to someone like Sofia!

For the next several weeks now I remained after class, with or without Zephyr, and became the willing slave of Sofia. She allowed me to maintain all my self-control and will during dance lessons, and then afterward, I might simply be asked to pull down my trousers and bend to the floor for inspection or delicious fondling (which never failed to produce at least one quick orgasm!). Or I might "milk" Sofia's broad dangling titties as she knelt above me. Or Zephyr and I would make noisy, sweaty passion (I can't call it "love" yet) on a pile of clothing, following the hypnotic suggestions of our mistress.

There were no more languid, seductive inductions. I'm sure I was already in trance whenever I was around my teacher, and Zephyr and I would simply comply instantly with any request or directive from Sofia. Including unconsciousness.

I loved being made sleepy... something about drowsiness brought an extra deep sexual response in me, my climaxes might not be as sharp, but I learned to nurse them along, or let them nurse me along, and my hips pressed and moved it seemed forever as the heavy, hot pressure within the whole length of my vagina tugged me this way and that for what seemed like hours!

To this day, my favorite lovemaking is this infinitely luxurious, slowed-time kind of pulse.. and come... pulse... and come... just one after another... ahhh! I can do it alone, mentally in some boring movie or meeting, or favor my husband with a prick-soaking interior manipulation of the most exquisite kind... how he loves the tender yet piquantly arousing sensations, urging, coaxing... dominating his organ to obey the constricting band of muscle surrounding it..

Yes, I also learned much about domination and submission. While I was "allowing" myself to feel like Sofia's helpless thrall, who could be made to want and ask to tongue between her puffy buttocks, or to lick her armpits clean and dry after a long dance lesson... she was repaying Zephyr and me by inculcating within us the ability to "read" and manipulate the will of others, to "bond" in empathy with them, subtly shifting their emotions or desires along our pathways.

Now we studied hypnotism like we had almost never studied anything in our regular schooling! I had several books from the library, and today I have to chuckle that I would study some statistical eye-roll response table, thinking I was learning something! Zephyr had only been to high school, but was no dope at all. She listened and observed better than I. I never got out of that self-absorbed slant on things, that had made me such an easy subject... ripe for Sofia's plucking.

It sounds as if we were turned into lezbo-nympho-slaves, but Sofia was kinder than that. I think that I could have been, I often thought that I was in love with Sofia or Zephyr, but never was I more to the teacher than "little bird," with a body that she used to pleasure herself when she wished. She took delight in exploring and manipulating, and satisfying me as well.

Manipulation. This is the way I matured over the next twenty years. To learn how and why people manipulate, to become good at it, then to be able to let it go! so it didn't turn into a simple fetish or habit I couldn't live without... I did NOT learn that from Sofia. I can thank Jerry for much of that... My husband Jerome, about which you'll hear no more from me. But I owe him, and I'm spending a lot of time repaying him... yummy!

Sofia was a prisoner of the pleasure she took from the control of others. It meant more to her, I think, than the actual sexual release. But she realized this, I'm sure, and didn't try to turn herself into a religion in my eyes. And I was air-head enough to have turned her into some hypnotic guru for a while. But it didn't happen.

Some of you who saw me dancing during the eighties, you now know perhaps why you watched me so intently in those brief times when I took the stage, the flutes tweeted, the hand drums popped and the bouzouki players flailed... I wanted your attention, I loved it, and for a time, I knew how to command it.

Even visiting cognoscenti from the Mediterranean area threw coins to my stage. I never had the desire to become a public figure, more than wriggling for men while they forgot themselves for a while... but I think I could have been something of a star. Sofia said so...

"You have not the perfect body for the dance," she told me, "but you appeal to the boys... you dance to the body, and they do not need to think... very valuable, although the "artistes" will look on you with scorn, they will be jealous of the coins too!"

I loved watching your eyes, fastened onto my body as it slickened under the lights, slid and moved as I directed your gaze now to my breast, now to my knees, as I held out my arms to you, each individually, and begged you to take me, take me, take me! Many of you did, out there in the dark surrounding the little stages. You know you grew hard and uncomfortable, that you couldn't stop watching me, that you wanted to reach down and quell and release your longings under your tables... Some of you looked almost comical, concealing your lusts, bumping your table legs as your balls pumped your fluids up into your trousers, as you slumped back in your chairs... the eye-cock connection felt unbreakable to you perhaps?

I saw the wine glasses shake on the tabletops, the faces turn dark red behind the lights, the eyes bulge and glaze.

I made this happen.

This was my nine-year performing "career" to some of you. To a smaller number, perhaps seventy-or eighty of you, you may not remember as well the performances in the restaurants. Your memories are hazed, uncertain, gone. You (or I) wished it so. To some of you, when you see the phrase "The Isle of Hypnos," some memory may return, and your bodies may jerk again in their chairs, your arms may float to your belts, ah well, who knows, out there in electronic darkness, WHAT you recall? Only you! I have left your life, and you played only a brief role in mine, but I "loved" you no more than Sofia loved me!

I loved your swellings and thrustings, your jerkings and your puppetlike obedience for a time, till I did not need it or want it anymore... but I don't renounce it... or you, the memories bring pleasure (and refreshing stimulus) to Jerome and me, and so I will recount some more of those times now. For self-protection, I learned from your own sleeping mouths all I needed of your identities, but not once have any of you blundered or fought your way back into my life, and I have not needed any protection. I will honor you with your first names only.

Let me prime you once again... "The Isle of Hypnos."

Some of you now feel, even after all these years, a delicious feeling overtaking you. Do not betray yourself with public arousal or shame. As your need returns, you may wait and discharge yourself in private. Another little gift from Shabari. Shabari from Hypnos. Hold in your need if you have to, if not, you may release at any time.

I had been with Sofia two years, and in the arms of Zephyr for several months. She distrusted many men, and always wanted the upper hand, but she too enjoyed performing (she still does, not in Middle-Eastern dance, but in other fields, including some powerful erotic art!). She liked the attentions of men when she controlled all the circumstances. She was much more like Sofia than I, and enjoys the "Dominance" scene. She too was able to bring me to my knees, after that night when I watched her being shorn. Able to invoke my need to obey, to give in and be manipulated, my excitement as my body moved in ways dictated by another.

"Get my asshole all wet," she might tell me, and there I'd be, pulling her buns up off the bed, laving her sphincter assiduously, feeling her own erotic reflex begin to control HER, then she might demand a finger or two there, or a vibrator driven up into her, or even to be tickled. I complied happily, even the week she thought she should be whipped.

She never inflicted pain on ME, and now I understand that Sofia, the mistress of us both, must have enjoined her from doing or wanting to do harm to me. Zephyr too was as docile as a tame goat for Sofia. Kneeling, massaging, anointing and salving feet, kissing toes, she hastened to do Sofia's bidding.

This was all Sofia's "price" for the understanding of sexual hypnosis. We had no way to practice, except on each other. Zephyr could have me under in a second or two, but I always preferred the slow, sinuous seduction of the unaware mind.. once I'd tried it. Just like Sofia had seduced me.

Flashes of my instruction from Sofia:

"...You have a feeling within you," Sofia said to me. "If you are to command men, you must also want them. Your fascination and concern for them will pull them into your influence, and soon..."

"...It is also the costumes sometimes. The lights can make them sparkle, and some men nearly fall over on the tables, especially after too much retsina..."

"...With few, dancing is enough, for most, you must speak into their minds while they are held open by the dancing..."

"...The music must not confuse them from your voice..."

"...Tell a story to lead in to your spell...sing to them, put them to sleep, rock them with your body..."

"...Men do not know that they love to be controlled. Most do, I think, but is a waste of time, dangerous to try on all men. Know how to choose who you want, yes?"

...And on and on, but I had no experience or seeing yet! So Sofia told us to come on other nights and watch her perform. We did so, and we saw... my panties were often completely soaked after watching a dozen or so men of all types and descriptions surrender to her influence.

"Try to guess who will respond, and I will show you when dance is over," she said. She would dance, they would stare. She would fling out a wrist or shake an ankle, and their gazes would flick out, or lock down, and afterward settle in on her belly and hips as she caressed their eyes and minds and brought them into her body.

I watched, and sooner than you might think, learned to evaluate "the glaze." When a dance would end quietly, and she would slowly become still as a statue, the restaurant was often completely rapt. Even as the applause began, some men would be held still motionless, until Sofia shook herself amusingly, then they would blink, and come to themselves. I learned to find these men behind the bright lights, I learned to gauge their receptivity.

Then, we began to watch her "Tarky-ize" them.

Uncle Tarky had long ago been placed in Sofia's "service." I had not observed him since that dreamlike first night in any guise other than restaurant manager. I remembered his massive testes pumping out their thick gobs, but to me he had been the usual dour elderly uncle in the several months since.

"He is mine," Sofia mentioned once, when she saw me daydreaming during class as I gazed at him, remembering hazily. "I knew you would learn to want him, but he has been mine for years." He was so... almost old and ugly! I told myself, but his hard hands... I remembered them, and the thick moustache would tickle and prickle my pussy...

"Ah, but I control Tarachis, it was I that bound him, and he chose servitude to me," she said on another occasion, her eyes glinting forbiddingly at me, "and, anyhow, you will find yourself spread apart by many many delightful spears... oh, yes, young and old, you will find them eager to plunge, little bird, because you have my gifts."

And within a week of that comment, after I had observed her perform for the fifth time, she invited me to a private party.

She had been invited to dance for some visiting businessmen and minor government officials from ____, who were touring our part of the country in search of... I suppose business matters... if she told me, I forgot immediately. "I think you will understand more of my passions. I enjoy drawing, for example, your plump active tongue deep into my mouth, my dear..."

I was in the circle of her arms in an instant, my body melting with affection towards my guru. I offered my probing skillful tongue to her own, and felt my nipples contract as her soft hand roamed freely about my breast.

The month was an unseasonably warm, moist May, and her dance was part of a private party at the home of an electronics tycoon who lived up in the hills with dogs and mistresses and cars. His swimming pool was part of a lush water garden, and most of the plants were already thriving, with a few blossoms already budding on the most hardy. Although the patio could actually be covered with a tent, there turned out to be no need for this on that Thursday.

We arrived, along with a quartet of the finest musicians in the area. I should say that the drummer was one of Sofia's conquests, although I don't remember how I knew this. Maybe another as well, and so there was more than money in this "gig" for them. Also, my increased powers of observation had picked up on the devotion paid Sofia by many of the players who propelled her dancing. One of them, not a Middle Easterner, had mentioned once to me how he enjoyed playing for someone who "made love" to the musicians as well as the audience.

The party was humming along, with several well-fed well-dressed men lounging in deep chairs round a small trickling fountain that fed an artificial stream down into the black tiled pool. Torches flickered on tall poles everywhere (no insects yet, thank God!), and another trio was just packing up instruments in a corner away from a very well-stocked bar. They looked like cocktail music, based on the singer's hairdo.

We had "performed" several more times for the "boys" in the Acropolis, joined by Constanze, another one my fellow students, a brunette with a comfy-looking body, tapered legs from plump thighs, very narrow ankles and small feet. Connie exuded happy good will in person and on "stage," and although she was not part of this lascivious inner circle, we all liked her. Sofia pronounced us all competent to perform... for money! and that had us both anxious and floating on air as she met the majordomo of the household, who told us that we could begin performing almost at once.

As we hurried off to change, Connie and Zephyr chatted about the limos and sports cars packing the long driveway, but I felt an anxious knot in the belly that was supposed to pump and flex the boys to heaven. Zephyr held my hand then.

"Hey, sis," she reassured me, "we got it made!"

"I know, dammit!" I answered, annoyed with myself for being so green, and so... obvious about it! "Sorry, I've just been thinking about trying to dance for money, and now... shit, it's not like I want to be nervous... if it was at the restaurant..." I prattled on a bit, and when Sofia joined us, she saw that I hadn't begun changing yet.

"Hurry now, Carmel," she said to me... no "little bird" tonight, but her wish was my command, and, feeling butterflies, I stripped down, and began wrapping myself in my gauzy pantaloon costume, and brushing my hair. I was to do some sort of trumped up "slave-girl in the harem" kind of dance alone, after Zephyr and Connie had opened, then Sofia herself was to perform as the Big Name. Hell, I sound jealous, but I knew that next to Sofia all WE really had on the table were younger bodies for the babies to ogle! We were just amateurs.

"Here is your tiara," offered Zephyr, adding as she looked me over "what's wrong with your eyes?"

I'd evidently worked up a furrow of stress that, with her new-learned observational powers, was a dead giveaway to my inner turmoil.

"Hurry now," urged Sofia, and we could hear that our band had already begun their opening tunes. They could keep that up all night, the program wasn't THAT precision. We'd been told that we could dance as long as any of the guests paid attention, and Sofia had said that occasionally it went on very late indeed! "Constanze will lead."

She led us round to the back of some ornamental screens near the pool. Guests were chatting and walking around, and perversely I felt more calm as I perceived that four scantily-clad females gliding somewhere piqued a lot of curiosity. But I was glad I wasn't first.

Behind the screens, Sofia signalled Ibram (lead bouzouki) that we were there. In another couple minutes the band led up to one of those grand high-speed chases and in a whirl of notes. They were good, with lots of showmanship, and the audience over on our side of the pool had grown. As the applause died, Ibram was heard again, slowly and insistently setting up the first song. His ostinato provided the 2nd bouzouki player with a backdrop as he stepped out and bowed politely.

"Do you know him?" Connie giggled at us as she primped a bit more. "His name is Bob." Zephyr sputtered in nervous glee, and as "Bob" introduced the first dance into a small PP A system, the two women hugged each other for luck. My nerves had settled enough that I chipped in something like "break a hip!" and as the drummer spat out a sharp command, the two were on.

Monumental as this moment was to us, the audience was not tied in completely, to say the least! Glasses clinked, women shrieked somewhere on the grounds, there was some chatter from the huge heated pool as well-to-do nymphs braved the cool May air to sport their tans and their Aspen-trimmed thighs as long as someone was watching them. The underwater lights flickered and rippled reflected in the high shrubbery, and the white bodies glided around, in complement to the cloudlike figures of my two friends now beginning their performance.

They were to do a number together, then Sofia had made them each memorize a little comment so they could introduce each other in short solo acts. Finally, they would get things revved up with a very rambunctious duo number. Things seemed very smooth, and now I was nearly not ready to throw up!

"Ah," murmured Sofia, pulling me back from the screen, "they are fine, and you will be fine as well. I know some of these men AND their wives!" She walked me back into the hallway, now deserted except for an occasional caterer humping cartons and trays around. "Soon, the audience will be mostly male, you will see! Soon even some of the Arabs will be drunk, and the Lebanese... well!"

"I'm nervous," I whispered like a schoolgirl. She tsk'd and frowned.

"It is a good thing that I am not your mother," she hissed at me. "I know you better than that, young lady!

Then her eyes twinkled. "You need not get attention from ME, little bird, soon you will have all the attention you truly crave. Remember to command their eyes. As you dance the slave motions, remember always to MAKE them feel your desire, TEACH them to sense your need..."

"Yeah, OK," I husked back at her, but she held my wrist as I started to turn back to listen to the music.

"I am a professional," she said calmly to me. I was held by her eyes, and her personality and will flowed smoothly through her gaze. I felt as if a volume control had turned the party way, way down... "a professional, and after tonight, you will be as well. We will be colleagues, although you still will need... guidance... I see you are already in my power..."

"Yes, mistress," I said, locked on her gaze forever, unless she released me.

"You will learn to channel all your excitement through your arms, your face, your breasts and sex, out into their minds," she said. I nodded, and sighed a bit... I was ready to forget the party and have her stroke me... "You will do this because you love to do it," Sofia commanded in a sharper tone, "and you will do it without fear tonight because it is my will that you do so."

"Yes, mistress," I said.

She released me with a hard pat on one cheek that almost stung. She turned back outside, and I followed her, still in a bit of a haze, but now thinking of my dance.

Applause. Connie and Zephyr whirled off in a spin, and Sofia pulled them back farther from me. Then I was "on." Then the first crowd of eyes pinned me, painted me, sculpted me... and my career had begun.

Well, someone who knows hypnosis as well as I do can surely dredge out of her own memory every single detail of my dances, and every response from the audience. I can, but I never have, and probably never will, just because, in hindsight, I know how... average... it all was! I did my steps competently, I was "on" the music for the slave dance (about which I WILL tall you later), and got a a good deal of applause.The magic, and my next instruction came shortly later.

I did loosen up enough to observe some of the crowd. There were few in suits, several in robes, the most were local rich guys in sports clothes, some already more than a little sloshed. I had smelled many a whiff of pot from various locales, and I'm sure that these trendy business types were already doing coke somewhere in that house... There were only about seven or eight women playing close attention to us (and their males!), and the remaining forty or so were fairly attentive, especially during my slave number, where the music was quieter, with many sudden complete pauses.

As I moved, I was not aroused much at all, I felt too mechanical, but I saw several nods from the burnooses round and about, and this gave me more confidence. One or two young lads (about my age, probably!) could have been either drunk or stoned, but they were completely wrapped up in the sight of our undulating flesh. I danced "to" them, unconsciously moving to the easiest audience. I heard from my teacher about THAT later, you can be sure! The blonde-haired man was clad in chinos and a tunic sort of loose shirt. The other, sporting tight dark curls, had a sort of pudgy, dissipated face, but a very cute little mouth and chin on him.

Their faces were locked on every part of my body as I shimmied. As I flipped a forearm out and back occasionally, the dark one particularly moved his eyes to follow the motion, his head nodding dreamily along with the music. He looked placid and relaxed, but I felt sure he was getting horny.

No question about blondie, though, I catalogued... he fidgeted now and again, almost visibly adjusting his trousers, between bouts of almost stupefied attention to my breasts. A real tit man, I actually thought to myself... Zephyr must have nearly had him jumping down her cleavage. For all her disdain of the "wet-nurse" syndrome, she enjoyed shakin' 'em, I'd noticed.

Blondie was slumped down in his web chair, and his eyes didn't even bother to follow my arms as I finished my second number. He roused up enough to whistle and whoop, joining what sounded to me like a thunderous ovation. Remember, it was my first solo! As I floated off-stage, Sofia gave me a kiss right on the lips! and turned me back for a curtain call. Several men were stamping their feet, and waving cocktail napkins, and then... I heard clinking. Clinking! My bare feet felt several coins, coins that were being tossed to me! I watched one plump Lebanese as he scattered several coins, looking at his tablemates with what seemed to me to be tolerant approval! The locals picked up on it, belatedly, and as the applause died and I left the patio, I heard more money striking the smooth flagstones.

Sofia hugged me again. "Quite respectable," she said, and more than the applause (or money!) this approval both melted me and matured me a little. I smiled and gave her my "stage" nod, then of course I folded up into her arms. The musicians were playing a raucous interlude while awaiting Sofia. Bob had been collecting the offerings, and brought back quite a pile of loose change! He nodded at me, and rattled something off to Sofia, who sent him back out with instructions.

"We will talk over the whole dance later," Sofia said to me. Constanze and Zephyr had not reappeared, and I looked round for them. "Constanze met a friend right after her dance, and she is in the home," Sofia twinkled. "Zephyr has begun her other training in the audience."

"Where?" I asked. I hadn't noticed the statuesque girl amongst my viewers! though I hadn't been looking for her specifically.

"Ah, she is a good selector, that one!" Sofia nearly bubbled with good humor. "She is far away from the drunk ones that YOU liked, little bird!"

She had noticed my special "audience members."

"I think if they do not have more liquors you will learn something, but you must go out and try. I suggest the dark-haired man, but the fair one may be more sober than he looks."

"You mean..." I had not been prepared for this... was she sending me out to... were Zephyr and I to...

Sofia looked me in the eye with her special glint.

"Yes, mistress..." I heard myself sigh, and now my relaxation released some sexual tension, and my nipples snapped to attention, and scraped against the filmy brassiere.

"You may CHOOSE" she said calmly to me, "you may choose to capture a man, to test your powers this very night... don't you remember your lust for men, Carmel?"

"Oh... yes, mistress..." I gulped like a teenager, held in her gaze.

"You cannot fail tonight," she continued, "because I will be dancing."

My loins heated as I watched her eyes seem to blaze at me. They were kindling with her own performance lusts, I know now. I nodded, stricken dumb with her power over me. My knees felt weak, I wanted to strip and spread for her then and there...

"I will dance, and YOU may ride the men," she said. Her hand slipped down where it had rested on my shoulder, slipped down to burn on my left hip. "The men are already mine... I will test myself on one or two of the... others..."

At the word "others," her eyes dropped from mine, and her spell was loosed. I realized, as she sent me away, round the back of the patio, that she had revealed her intention of seducing a woman! More accurately, women from the small group! At this realization, I had to stop walking and hold a hand inwards at my crotch. I felt like the little Dutch boy, trying to hold back the leak in the dike! I envied her targets, and now my own sex was come to full humming awareness, and I found that I was wholeheartedly prepared to practice a darker, deeper "art" on... on...