Under the Bell Curve

 

     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 /