[bell] [2000-05-06] Under the Bell Curve [mf mc]
Under the Bell Curve, by Rajah Dodger <rdodger@hotmail.com>,
Copyright (c) 2000. 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.
Word Count: 3428
Life is funny. Sometimes you think you're just one of the
herd, just another meaningless statistic. Then all of a sudden
you're somebody special, and you don't even know why. I know,
because that's what happened to me.
I was driving with 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 together -- movies, concerts,
that sort of thing. 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. Still, she didn't
quit seeing me, and she did give great hug. And best of all, she
wasn't bored when I talked about my classes. That's important to
me, because I'm majoring in statistics and we seem to rate down
with accountants and language majors on the boring scale.
We were waiting at a stoplight and I was talking about the
results of an experiment I had run, when suddenly Peg kind of
stiffened and shivered all over. I looked at her, concerned, and
asked if she was all right. She said she was, but in a very
colorless voice, not her usual manner of speaking at all. I
continued, asking her what just happened, and her answer blew me
away:
"You gave me the trigger phrase. I am waiting."
Trigger phrase? This was too weird for words. I looked
around for Candid Camera, but all I saw was the guy behind me
revving his engine because 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 trigger phrase, Peg?"
"You told me *high chi-square*. I am waiting."
This was getting weirder and weirder. I wondered if she was
pulling my leg, but she'd never shown any inclination to sadistic
practical jokes. I wanted to ask her, waiting for what, but I
had this horrid feeling I knew what the answer would be. 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 jumped into the
lion's den. I reached out and cupped her breast.
It felt soft and heavy, and when I rubbed my thumb over it I
could feel her nipple. Peg didn't even blink.
I yanked my hand back like it was burnt. Now I was really
getting 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 occasional date both waiting and willing
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 came from in the
first place. I felt like someone had handed me a lollipop with
superglue on the stick. Sweet, but you can't put it down...
Peg was still sitting quietly next to me. I decided to try
a shot in the dark. "Tell me, Margaret," using my most formal
voice, "recite the triggers for me."
"Yes, teacher," she said in a very subdued un-Peglike voice.
"*High chi-square* is my master trigger, and I respond to it only
when spoken by you in person; if you wish to trigger me over the
phone the phrase is *Insignificant results cannot have a high
chi-square*. The restoration trigger is *Normal Bell, Peg*."
It may have been summertime, but I was deathly cold in that
car. I'd thought of a couple of possible pitfalls in this. "And
your memory, Margaret? What happens to your memory when the
restoration trigger is used?"
She responded in the same spooky voice, "As you know, I
remember only what you have told me to remember."
I paused before the next question. "And you will follow all
of my orders, Margaret?"
"Of course. That is my purpose."
Whoever had done this to Peg 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 dinner, but it was too likely we'd run into someone who
knew Peg at the Roadhouse, so 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
low. While I drove, I reminded Peg that she should be using her
normal tone of voice and asked 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. That seemed like a good test.
We parked the car and I held the door for Peg. 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
came with 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 when I sat down I asked her to hand me the panties.
She did so, no questions asked, and I put them in my pocket.
Then I put my hand on her leg and slid it up far enough 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 now
that wouldn't quit.
About then the waitress came back and I had to bring my
hands back above the table to handle the menu and order dinner
for us. When the waitress left, I slid my hand back up Peg's
left 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 -- she broke off what she was saying,
closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I licked my lips, but
then I had 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 back to normal, I told her not to
notice the absence of her panties for the rest of the evening,
then said "Normal Bell, 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 powder 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. If she noticed my
erection, she certainly didn't do anything to encourage it and I
didn't feel like pressing my luck.
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 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 a couple of nights 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.
The night before her concert 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 cum, 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 cum, but may not make a sound while doing so." I
had her repeat the instructions, blew her a kiss and hung up.
The next night I dressed up and went to the concert. Wind
instruments aren't my favorite -- too hooty for my taste. But
the music was okay, and Peg looked good in her black slacks and
white silk blouse. I looked carefully as the concert dragged on,
but I couldn't tell that 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, Alan, 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, trying to keep
from 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, "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 just let her
cum then wait for our movie date to go further with her, but she
looked 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
five-minute head start, and then went to get my car.
*****
When I got to Peg's place, her friend Janine was there with
her. Janine was kind of a cold fish, not rude or anything, just
standoffish, and I didn't really want her around. 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. Peg said she had left to go clubbing, I guess I
missed seeing her go. I watched Peg as she sipped from her
drink; she was moving sexily and unconsciously to the music. I
took another sip from my drink 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 clear when I told her to undress. Anyway it was
hard to concentrate between her full breasts brushing against my
face and the drums on the stereo. "Shoes..." I thought, and Peg
was 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? I couldn't focus on that when her
tongue was making 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, Alan, see what you do 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.
Then Peg got up, turned around and kissed me -- a long wet
deep kiss that did nothing to relieve the pressure building up in
my balls. She sat up on my stomach, her breasts swinging with
the rhythm of the drums, and maneuvered herself up and down on my
shaft. I was really enjoying the feeling, but I could tell I
wouldn't last long. I tried to tell Peg, but my throat wouldn't
work right and besides I was breathing too hard to talk. Just
then Peg came, bouncing up and down on me like a piledriver, and
grunting out "Oh Yes, Oh YES, OHHH YEAAHHHH!" I was bucking my
hips up off the sofa trying to go deeper inside her and my thighs
were cramped from the need to come. Eventually she slowed down
and flopped on top of me, and all I could do was whimper from the
feel of her still clasped around my engorged cock.
She giggled.
That was somewhere near the last thing that I wanted to hear
at that particular moment.
"Poor Alan," she said, "Here I've had all this fun and I bet
you're just aching to come, aren't you?"
I tried to say yes, but I still couldn't get my throat
muscles to work right. I settled for nodding my head vigorously
and rocking my hips in little in-and-out motions. "That's okay,"
she cooed, sliding herself off me, "I know all about it." She
knelt by the side of the sofa and kissed her way around my
nipples and down my stomach, finally taking each of my balls in
her mouth and swirling her tongue against them. I lifted my head
enough to look that direction and groaned louder; my cock looked
dangerously swollen and purple, a color I'd never seen before.
"I like this," she continued, "and I just know Janine's gonna
love it!"
Before I could ask her what she meant by that, she did
something with her hands and I felt a weird sliding sensation at
the base of my cock, then Peg was standing by the sofa, one hand
on my thigh. "Count with me," she said. All of a sudden I could
talk again, and I rasped out with her "one" ... "two" ...
"three."
At the count of three she just tapped me with one finger
between my balls and I came! Oh how I came, spurting and muscles
spasming, cum flying everywhere, even up into my hair. She kept
that one finger busy lightly touching me until I collapsed
bonelessly onto the sofa and my cock was just barely dribbling
from the end. I lay there, panting, as she slid her finger along
my limp cock, up my stomach and around my nipples, finally
sliding it into my unresisting lips. It was coated with my cum,
but I automatically licked her finger clean.
"You know," she told me, "Janine's a psychology major. She
thinks you're cute, but I thought you were never going to make a
move on me. So we made a deal. She helped me hypnotize you."
My eyes got bigger, but I didn't say anything as I was still
sucking on her finger. "Our deal is that after I finally got you
inside me, she gets the next turn." She cupped her mound with
her other hand, and her eyes briefly lidded over. "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, will you?"
I nodded in agreement, her finger still embedded in my
mouth.
"Good," she said. "I'm going to get a washcloth and clean
you up, and maybe play with you a little more, and then I think
you need to get back to your place and get a good night's sleep."
She said something else, but things got fuzzy about then...
*****
I woke up the next morning with aching balls. Boy, once I
got Peg in her apartment, she'd really turned into a dynamo in
bed. I didn't think I'd be able to walk straight. As I was
getting my books ready for class, I saw a note I'd written to
remind myself that Peg and Janine and I were having dinner
together at Peg's place Thursday. I kind of felt sorry for
Janine. She's a nice looking girl, but never seems to go out
with any guys. Peg's a real sweetheart trying to get her out of
her shell. I like that about Peg, always thinking about other
people.
/end/ 05-06-2000 Rajah Dodger <rdodger@hotmail.com> (c) All
Rights Reserved