Emma sincerely thanks the cd merchant as she leaves. Clutching the bag that contains her recent purchase, she decides to browse the other vendors to see what they have to offer. After those recent experiences, one would think Emma would be ready to call it a day. But instead, she feels rather refreshed and renewed. Granted, her mind is reeling with the remembrances of what has just happened, but she can't think about that now. Emma rationalizes, "It is a good day to shop. I must see what else there is!"

This flea market is much larger than the first and Emma is right, success is blowing her way. After all, she did find this magic cd. Emma wonders what could possibly be burned on it? Does she dare listen to it? Emma impishly giggles and asks, "Why else did you buy it, silly?"

Emma briefly goes from one vendor's table to another. Her last purchase, a small watercolor seascape set in a handmade seashell frame, will hang in her bathroom. She hasn't decided yet which room the African mask will grace, but she is sure that the elephant creamer and sugar bowl will go in the kitchen.

She is able to carry all of her purchases in the large canvas bag that she has brought with her, but she keeps the cd separate. Unable to forget about it for the time being, she periodically opens the little bag and peers inside. Did this shiny little disc really control her behavior? Did it really take her on those fantastic trips? Emma concludes, "It is time to go home and find out!"

She hops into her Mustang and carefully checks that the Duncanesque scarf she is wearing is safely tucked inside the car before she closes the door. She may be eccentric, but she is not careless. She opens the little bag again and is tempted to touch the cd, but decides, "Surely, I can wait."

The drive is not far, but Emma's foot pushes the gas pedal a little more and more. She continues to speed a little faster and faster the closer she gets to home. Emma cannot stop thinking about the euphoric sensations she felt by looking at the colored disc. And the memory of each experience plays over and over in her mind. She can't get home soon enough! She has to listen to that cd now!

Emma's heart begins to beat a little harder as she rounds the bend to her street. She breaks to a stop, throws the car into first gear, grabs her booty, and flies up the stairs to her apartment. She breathlessly flops onto the pink naugahide couch, turns on the Victorian lamp beside her, and anxiously peeks into the little bag again.

She reaches into the bag, but pulls her hand out quickly. A huge smile appears on her face and a giggle of anticipation escapes Emma as she promptly closes the bag. She opens it again, reaches in, and quickly grasps the jewel case. Nothing happens. She pulls it out and looks at it. Nothing happens. With both hands opening the case and somewhat disappointed, Emma sighs, "Well, I may as well listen to it."

There is just enough light streaming from the Victorian lamp to cast a reflection on the shiny little disc. Immediately the rainbow of colors takes Emma to that wonderful trancelike sensation she felt earlier today. She loses all physical control as her body seems to rise from the couch and hover in a frozen suspension. Her mind empties of all thought and reason. The nothingness consumes her physically and mentally and she is unaware of any actions that are about to happen.

Anyone watching Emma would think she was merely walking to the cd player in a slow deliberate manner. But a compelled Emma, submissive to the shiny little disc's command, obliviously floats to the player and inserts the cd.

Emma's anticipation builds with each eternal second that it takes for the vintage tube amplifier to warm up. She keeps whispering, "Hurry up! Hurry up!," as she clutches her hands in front of her.

Finally, the quadraphonic speakers distribute the strong authoritative expression, "Listen to the sounds and allow them to be your guide. You must choose a track number."

Emma chooses Track 20, without a single thought as to how many tracks there might be on this cd. The selection begins with a steady tapping. Within seconds Emma is absorbed in a pitch black, a mysterious total darkness.

Emma begins to slowly sway back and forth to the tapping beat. As it becomes a little louder, the hooves of a stampeding zebra herd are distantly perceived. As the stampede pounds closer, the tapping increases in tempo, which forces Emma to increase her swaying. Louder! Faster! And soon the stampede passes her and becomes distant again. Her heartbeat rises also with the excitement, but calms again as her swaying subsides to the slowing of the taps. It slows to a very quiet final tap.

On the next expected beat, Emma hears the soft thump of a drum. Again, very slow at first. As it increases in tempo, Emma's swaying becomes more of a dance and her feet lift with each opposite sway in a very rhythmic movement. The drumming becomes louder. She hears exotic animal sounds like the chirping of birds before the night's rest, the trumpet of elephants at feeding time, and the growls and roars of beasts protecting territorial rights.

A crackling bonfire calls Emma closer and reflects a drummer. Emma instantly finds herself among nineteen young native women standing in a line and swaying from one foot to the other while keeping time to the soft thumping of the drum.

These dark beauties, and Emma included, are totally naked except for their exquisite jewelry made of gold and colorful beads. It adorns them from head to toe. Emma's hair is free falling and flows over her huge hoop earrings. Around her neck are several strands of beads and cowry shells; the longest resting just above her cleavage. A coiled bracelet of gold accents her upper left arm and two thin beaded bracelets of blue decorate each ankle. A belt of thin leather hugs her hips. It supports a dangling array of multi-colored beads that just covers her pubic area. It is very enticing to watch the jewelry bounce and hit against her as she dances.

Twenty native males are in a line opposite the women. Similarly adorned, they sway to the drumbeat also. They lead a chant, which the women repeat. Both parties match the continually increasing tempo and volume of the beating drum. Soon they are jumping up and down and spinning around and pounding the earth with a craze to match the mantra they are shouting. Emma breathily discovers, "This is some kind of tribal ceremony!"

Then the drum gradually slows and everyone returns to the rhythmic sway from one foot to the other. The singing turns to humming with an occasional syllable or two expressed by the men. One woman dances over to the opposite line and starts a courtship ritual. She pauses to examine one of the eager males by circling him, bending and rising in rhythm, and wiggling and shaking around him. She moves on to another and then another with the same scrutiny. Finally, she chooses a lucky contender and together they leave the group.

The next dancer prances over to the waiting men and similarly chooses a hopeful candidate. Then the next and the next, each with a personal variation to her dance, but always with the same goal: to choose a partner for the night. Emma enthusiastically concludes, "Soon it will be my turn."

The young bucks grow in excitement and anticipation. Sometimes they wish to be chosen immediately, so they can commence with the sexual connection. Sometimes they wish to be passed over, so they can continue to be aroused and prolong the foreplay a little longer. Either way, the teasing women delight in the physical proof that they elicit from each potential mate.

Observing for quite some time now, Emma's turn has arrived. Her eyes seem fixed on one handsome figure in the long line of men, and she is relieved that he has not yet been taken. With her hands gently fondling her own body, she gracefully strolls toward the opposite line in a back and forth direction. First she enchantingly heads to the left; then she alluringly turns to the right, just far enough that her direction is not toward her true choice, but very close to him. She weaves enticingly left again, making sure that her fingers delicately touch her lips and tongue, and that her hands seductively caress her breasts and smooth over her hips and ass. Her physical approach gives no indication of whom she will play with first, but her eyes never leave her target.

Even though it is quite obvious that Emma desires only one, all the men display their arousals proudly and watch with excitement as she draws near her preference for the night. Emma purrs softly as she approaches him. She brings her face so close to his, that she can feel the vibrations of his chants on her lips. Her hard protruding nipples graze his chest. She expertly shakes her hips while turning her back to him. She bends a little, and with a wiggle she juts out her ass in invitation. She feels his tip slightly touch her as it rises in acceptance.

Emma faces him again and places her hands on his dark black skin. She traces the outline of his muscles as she dances around him. His sculptured arms are hard and his back is moist from sweat. As she completes the circle around him, Emma slides her fingers down his chest and abdomen, slips them inside his decorative belt, and leads him to one of the distant huts.

There are about four other couples in the hut already partaking in sexual pleasure. The air, pungent with the scents of pheromones, testosterone and progesterone, makes Emma giddily comment, "Mmmm, the 'mones and 'rones are thick tonight." She and her partner inhale a deep breath and grant themselves a moment to soak in the strong aroma before he guides her to the thick woven mat on the ground, tightly squeezed between two other engaging couples. They immediately become enraptured with each other's scents and tastes as their bodies become entwined and their lips and tongues explore.

Someone else's body bumps into Emma's, but neither person pulls away. It feels natural and Emma voices in her partner's ear, "Oooh, this is so stimulating."

Emma can feel his hardness pressing against her and begging for attention. She slides down and positions herself between his legs. Lying on his back, he watches her grasp him with both hands. She licks his dark shaft to make it slippery. She rubs her lips and chin and cheeks on his huge cock in a gliding motion. Back and forth and up and down she turns her face to massage his cock, making sure to lick it to keep it wet and smooth. The drops of precum deliciously add to the lubrication.

He motions her back to him and he deftly rolls her over on her back, positioning himself on top. His strong hands hold and pet her head as his large lips smother hers in passionate kisses. He drives his hard pole into her dripping hole and their oneness takes her to a new level as he rhythmically thrusts his hips forward and back.

Emma feels tickles and tracings on her breast, around her nipple, down her side. She knows they are not his fingers because his hands now have hers locked above her head in a strong hold. They must be from the one lying beside her. And they feel feminine. Her imagination carries her to higher level of excitement. She likes not knowing who is pleasuring her with such erotic touches. Like she told the coed earlier this afternoon, "It doesn't matter from where the feelings are generated."

Emma allows herself to succumb to the added excitement of the touches as her partner beautifully makes love to her. Their bodies wet from mingled perspiration slide in a sensuous dance. He grows more ardent and pumps faster and harder. She feels the fingers travel to her own swollen organ and responds with harder pumps of her own.

Emma is intoxicated with her ebony surroundings. The groans and grunts, the scents and smells, the touches and strokes, and the pumps and jams elevate her to the highest level achievable. She feels her man's cock grow rock hard and he stiffens his body as he releases his load into her. With his last few pumps, the mysterious fingers bring her to orgasm with him and their warm juices mix and ooze out of her.

She dreamily drifts off for a few seconds and then hears deep in her ear, "Please choose me again. Please choose me again."

The voice on the cd is saying, "Please choose again. Please choose again."

Emma opens her eyes, hears the recording, and sees that she has not moved from this spot since she inserted the cd. She does notice that she is sweaty, wet, breathing rapidly, and her heart is pounding.

She smiles and claims, "This is one damn good cd!" Then she ejects it.

As she removes the cd from the drive, Emma reconsiders, "Maybe I would like to hear another selection while I take my bath." She carries the cd into the bathroom and draws the warm water into her old deep clawfoot bathtub. She looks at the shiny little disc once more and of course the bright light reflects a spectrum of colors. It inundates Emma with a conforming numbness and commands her obedience.

Unconsciously, Emma reinserts the cd into a portable player and again it says, "Listen to the sounds and allow them to be your guide. You must choose a track number." A cataleptic Emma randomly chooses Track 8.

Emma, in her trancelike state, steps into the tub and lies back. She hears water crashing as she becomes surrounded by white, not pure white, but a foamy white like the breaking waves of the ocean.

The vast sea refreshes and cleanses Emma and the saltwater makes it so easy for her to stay afloat. She relaxes and closes her eyes. The more she relaxes the heavier she feels. She begins to slip deeper into the water. Her mouth, her nose, her eyes, and now her head completely submerge.

She hears bubbles. Emma looks up to see the surface of the water becoming more and more distant. She hears more bubbles. She will have to take a breath soon. She sinks deeper and watches the water surface grow more distant. She gulps for air as she loses sight of the surface completely. She hears more bubbles and more bubbles. They have a slower echoing sound. She takes another gulp. She hears more bubbles. To her amazement, she is still breathing! Emma exclaims, "I am breathing under water!" She lets out a huge laugh and watches the bubbles float upward.

Emma swims around and explores her surroundings. She can hear little beeps and clicks and gurgles. She imagines she is a mermaid. She tries to swim holding her feet tightly together and paddling them like a fish tail. She likes the buoyancy of her breasts and her continually hard nipples. Emma thinks, "Neat, picture perfect!"

Emma becomes absorbed in her surroundings. Such colors! Red urchins, orange stars, gold and pink polyps, purple sponges, giant green kelp! Emma doesn't even consider any possibility of danger; she is so immersed in the beauty.

Emma also is not aware that she is being observed. Swimming in and out of the giant kelp and hiding behind the larger rocks is a shy spectator. He discreetly follows Emma and delights in observing her play and frolic. It has been a long time since he has had human companionship; he must convince her to stay. Therefore, he uses his magical ability of transforming into a sea animal.

Suddenly Emma feels a snake-like creature slither around her left side and under her breast. Startled, she arches her back slightly and freezes. She slowly begins to break away when another slither is felt on her right side. This creature curls around the outside of her right leg and into her inner thigh.

Emma freezes again. Then another wraps around her waist! The grasp is not tight and sometimes the currents of the water cause her to float within her confinement. She feels the large things brushing her now and then, creating a sensation that resembles sucking. It causes little tingles to radiate throughout her. She looks down and sees that these three individuals are identical in their large size, tentacle shape, and brown color, and she sees several others exactly the same wiggling around her.

Upon closer scrutiny, she notices little suction cups that are opening and closing. She tries once more to flee, and another one slithers around her right side and curls around her right breast. She feels several suction cups grasp her breast off and on in a random order, one so close to her nipple. The arousing effect awakens Emma's libido. She is shocked at the realization that she truly enjoys it. The tingling is unbelievable, like several mouths drawing at once, and she craves for it to actually take in her nipple!

Suddenly Emma also realizes that these are not several snake-like creatures. It is one creature! With its free arms, Emma is rotated within the confines of her prison. She comes face to face with a giant octopus! He gently smoothes her hair from her face and curves an arm around her neck.

He calms Emma's trembling by loosening his holds on her. He tenderly maneuvers her up and down, left to right, and around in spins. She begins to relax and flow with his motions. She enjoys the playful dance and willingly participates. She becomes accustomed to all eight arms sensuously slithering all over her. Each one explores and slides over all the parts of her body. Emma's heart skips a beat each time an arm glides over her breasts. And she especially feels a rush of arousal when an arm slips through the crack of her ass or between the swelling lips of her pussy.

Several suction cups of each arm form little vacuums on her skin. She feels the sucking everywhere simultaneously. Electrical charges surge throughout her as he continues to gently suck her face, arms, back, and legs, making them feel as equally erogenous as the sucking on her neck, breasts, buttocks and inner thighs.

Emma basks in this rapturous delight without a care or concern. Again, she reminds herself, "It doesn't matter from where the feelings are generated. Just allow yourself to feel and enjoy." And she does. The concurrent tingles turn into building sensations of salacious prickles and stings. They are so great that an enthralled Emma begins to throb with the anticipation of a never before experienced orgasm.

The rims of his suckers are particularly sensitive to him and he grows in excitement as well. Aware of her readiness, this metamorphosis decides that it is time to return to the shy being that he was before.

He satisfies Emma's growing need for climax by thrusting his hard pulsating cock into her from behind. Emma's pulse quickens as she yields to the pleasure. Her mind quickly questions, "Did he really enter me with one of those arms? Was I really hoping for that all along?"

Emma doesn't care. It is too late. She is already quivering and quaking in a sublime response to his penetration. And she is right; it is the craziest orgasm ever!

As Emma takes pleasure in her afterglow, she becomes aware of her freedom. Eight brown sucking arms no longer confine her. There are only two arms, human arms, enclosing her. She slowly turns around to set eyes on a handsome merman tenderly looking at her and asking, "Do you want to stay?"

Emma knows she can't and begins to swim upward, away from him. He calls again, "Do you want to stay?"

She can't answer. She only knows that she must keep swimming upward. She feels something wrap around her ankle and she envisions the long octopus arm entrapping her again.

He calls again, "Do you want to stay?" His grasp becomes tighter. Emma jerks her foot and swims harder. The plug of the bathtub, wrapped around her ankle, is pulled loose and the water drains slowly from the tub.

Emma awakens to the shiny little disc asking, "Do you want to stay? You must choose a track number."

Emma smiles with bemusement, and amazingly exclaims, "No, I think I have had enough for one day." Then she adds with a devilish remark, "But there is always tomorrow!"