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HJ[Message 1 of 1 in thread 36 of 42] rec.arts.erotica

Ulma's House (poem)
    From: Philip Alexy <[e-mail]>
    Date: 27 Apr 1994 02:20:25 -0400    (3 screens)

Archive-name: ulma.p

Here's a submission of poem that I think will get the audience I'm
looking for on rec.arts.erotica.

Ulma's House

I remember that night as I stood before the gate
Knowing that inside that house lay my undecided fate.
As I walked down the path I could feel the trees awake
Their tinny screams making my soul quake
"Welcome," they shrieked, "to Ulma's house."

She stood at the doorway, foam on her lips
She ran past me and I remember staring at her skeletal hips.
I stood unmoving, wondering if my medicine had started me to trip
More?all
And Charlie with his toothy grin began to do some clever flips
As she tried to run away from Ulma's house.

She screamed and yelled and tried to run away
But the doctors caught her out on the bay.
They said, "We know you've killed but that's okay.
"A monster you'll be, evermore from today,
"And we'll take you back to Ulma's house."

I met her again on the doorstep of ghostly oak
The tatters of her dress reaching for my throat
Her kisses of maggots making me choke
And felt the ice of her stare melting to form the moat
That trapped us forever at Ulma's house.

She reached past her ribs to find her heart
Bony fingers tearing her skin apart
But she'd forgotten that they had ripped it out
As she reached for my eyes, she began to pout,
"It must be back at Ulma's house."

As she lead me inside, I felt the blood run down my chin
And I smelled Charlie's breath as he began to lick my shin
My eyes were crushed in her palms but I just had to grin
For I knew the gory banquet was about to begin
Deep in the depths of Ulma's house.

As they sharpened their knives, she whispered in my ear,
"It won't hurt much, but I still love you dear.
"Don't think of me in your final moments of fear...
"Charlie!  Let go of his ear!"
And that's the last I heard at Ulma's house.

The house still stands with its grove of black trees
For there is a ghostly echo of dying bees.
And if you listen closely you can still hear the pleas
Of all those lovers that died bloodily on their knees....
And that's the story of Ulma's house.

Philip Edward Alexy
C&C welcome at [e-mail]
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Moderator, rec.arts.erotica.  Submissions to [e-mail].
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HJ[Message 1 of 1 in thread 37 of 42] rec.arts.erotica

Trances (2/5)
    From: Michael Kalen Smith <[e-mail]>
    Date: 27 Apr 1994 22:34:56 -0400    (11 screens)

Archive-name: trances.2

[Everyone seems to have a mind control story in their files, so I guess
I'll have to come up with one, too.  No super-muscles in the brain, though,
and no Buck Rogers inventions.  After all, hypnotism has been around a long
time....]

[If you haven't read Part 1 of this saga, the 2nd part will make very
little sense to you!]



                         TRANCES -- part 2

                        by Michael K. Smith

More?all
   The months with Kathy had been an interesting experiment and I had
learned a lot.  But I had become certain that I had only released feelings
in her that were already there.  Kathy had already been attracted to me or
I wouldn't have been reading Byron to her that afternoon.  I had removed
her inhibitions, perhaps, but I hadn't convinced her to do anything she
might not have done anyway.  I needed to find a more naturally resistant
subject.  I wanted to discover just how far my power extended.  And I had
my chance when I went home for the Christmas holidays.


   I had two weeks of down-time before the spring term began and I was
mostly hanging around the house, reading and watching TV, and visiting
friends.  Generally goofing off.  Of course, I made a point of dropping by
to see my old friend Jeff, who had transferred to a different college.  As
it turned out, he was off on a Christmas shopping expedition with his
mother and the door was answered by his licorice-hating little sister,
Sharon -- my very first hypnotic subject.  She was fourteen now, a very
cute, bouncy little gumdrop with a babyface and a sweet smile, and the
moment I saw her I knew what my next experiment would be.
   "Hi, Sharon -- you've really grown up since I saw you last year!  You
remember me, don't you?"
   She blanked for a moment but then recognition appeared on her face.  "Oh
-- yeah!  Jeff's friend!  Um, you hypnotized me once, didn't you?"  She
opened the screen and motioned me in.
   I followed her into the living room, watching the jaunty twitch of her
little bottom beneath the tight denim of her jeans.  She was wearing her
hair below her shoulders and it bounced and swayed in shiny waves against
the back of her pink sweatshirt.  God, she was so full of adolescent female
energy.
   "You remember being hypnotized, do you?"
   "Oh, sure!  You don't forget something like that.  I was so surprised
that I went under so easily.  I remember, you gave me some chocolate, too,
didn't you?"
   "Do you remember what a posthypnotic trigger is, Sharon?"
   She turned as she reached the living room.  "A post-what?"
   "Dive, Sharon, dive," I said quietly.
   Her puzzled expression slowly cleared and she smiled happily.  "Yes...."
I learned very early to always leave a back door.
   "Sharon, I'm going to ask you some easy questions.  You know the answers
and you will be absolutely honest and candid.  And you won't
feel any reason to be embarrassed, will you?  You know I'm your friend,
don't you?"  She nodded and cocked her head attentively.  "You know I like
you, Sharon, and that I have only the best intentions, right?"
   "Sure."  We sat down on the sofa, side by side.
   "Is there anyone else in the house right now?  Is Jeff due back anytime
soon?"
   "Nope, I'm all by myself.  I don't expect Mom and Jeff for at least a
couple of hours.  Why?"
   "Because I don't want us to be disturbed.  Now remember, Sharon -- be
honest with your answers and don't be embarrassed, either.  You can tell me
absolutely anything, can't you?"  She nodded again.  "Does it usually
embarrass you to talk about sex, Sharon?"
   "Um,... no, I guess not -- not when I'm talking to you, anyway."  Very
good, I thought.
   "Most teenaged girls get horny -- right, Sharon?  And they masturbate.
How old were you when you started doing that?  How did you discover it?
And how often do you do it?"
   "Oh, I found out about getting sexy a couple of years ago; I guess I was
eleven or twelve.  My jammies were a little too small and the top rubbed
against my titties and they got tingly, sort of.  My friend Debbie told me
she got hot when she wore tight jeans without underpants, so I tried that,
too.  That got me really horny and I started rubbing myself in bed.  I
guess I get off once or twice a week, now."  She sounded very matter-of-
fact.  Terrific, I thought; the timer was sure ticking on *this* little sex
bomb.
   "That sounds about right, I think.  Have you ever masturbated in public?
In school, or on the bus, or someplace?"
   She giggled mischievously.  "Yeah, I've done it on the school bus a
couple of times.  If you put your legs close together and squeeze the
muscles just right, you can get off that way!  The bus bouncing helps,
too."  She was even sexier when she grinned.
   "And I did it once in science class, with my pencil eraser, because Mr.
Edwards is really cute!  Even if he is almost thirty.  All the girls have
the hots for him, I think.  I know a couple of girls who have used their
fingers to jack off in the showers in gym, but I've never done that.
People might think I was a lesbian!"  She laughed and her hips squirmed --
which suggested something.
   "Sharon, while we're sitting here talking about sex, you're getting
really horny, aren't you?  You really want to jack off right here, don't
you?"
   "Ummm, yeah, I really do...."  Her voice had lowered in volume and pitch
and she squirmed even more.  "Can I, uh,...?"
   "Yes, of course you can, Sharon.  Just pretend I'm not here and I can't
see what you're doing -- but keep answering my questions."  The girl
scooted her ass forward on the sofa beside me and her thighs parted as her
hand glided down to cup the crotch of her jeans.  She began massaging and
rubbing the denim between her legs rhythmically but her attention didn't
wander from my face, though she licked her lips a couple of times.  The
side of her knee was pressed against my thigh and I could feel the small
muscular twitches as she climbed higher.
   "Sharon," I continued softly, "close your eyes and picture the sexiest
things you can think of, as if they were on a movie screen in your head.
The pictures are very clear.  What do you see while you masturbate?  Tell
me what you see, Sharon."
   She drew a shaky breath.  "It's Darlene's brother, Phil.  He's two years
older than Darlene and me.  I'm over at Darlene's house and I go upstairs
to use the bathroom, and Phil's bedroom door is open a crack, and I hear
these ... sounds.  And I can't help it: I go over real quietly and peek
in."  Her voice was low and she was breathing faster as she relived the
experience.
   "All he's wearing is a T-shirt; his jeans and his shoes are on the
floor.  I've never seen a guy that old naked before!  He's holding his,...
his penis.  He's, like, jerking off, and his cock is real big and stiff-
looking, and I wonder what it would feel like if he put his cock in my--
between my legs.  It looks so big -- but it must fit, people do it all the
time.  And he's moving his hand faster and faster, and I'm getting hot just
watching him, I'm getting wet down there, I can feel it...."
   Sharon's hand was moving in tighter circles and her pelvis was jerking a
little.  She was sure as hell getting *me* hot!  "Go ahead, Sharon -- what
happens next?  What does Phil do?  And what do you do?"
   "I put my hand between my legs, feeling myself up.  And Phil's bouncing
on the bed and he's got his eyes shut.  And then he comes.  I've never seen
that before -- God, there's so much of it, all that white stuff!  And he
shoots it at least a foot in the air, he shoots off several times, I can't
believe it goes so far,... and I can't imagine what it would feel like if
he squirted all that stuff inside me.  But I'll bet it would feel really
great!"
   Sharon's hand was really moving now, and her hips were bucking.  I
should have had her take her jeans off, I thought -- but this was safer.
And then she sort of squeaked and I could feel the trembling in her knee.
She let out a long, ragged sigh.
   "The idea of having sex with a boy kinda scares me, but I can't wait
until I'm old enough.  And then I tiptoe to the bathroom, real quiet, and
while I'm on the toilet, after I pee, I finger-fuck myself.  And I imagine
Phil walking in on me, because I deliberately didn't lock the bathroom
door.  And that makes me come -- it's only the second or third time I ever
really came, too."
   Listening to Sharon's sweet young voice describe her experience was
intensely erotic and it had my cock as hard as a baseball bat.  So I took a
pretty stupid chance.
   "Sharon, would you like to see another guy's cock?  I'll show you one,
but you must not be frightened by it.  You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
   "Oh, uh,... I don't know.  You mean, like, close up?  Oh, wow...."
   "Yes, close up, Sharon -- very close.  I'll show you my cock and I won't
touch you.  There's nothing to be afraid of, is there, Sharon?  It's
completely normal for a fourteen-year-old girl to be curious.  You'd like
very much to see my cock, wouldn't you, Sharon?  It's really stiff...."
   I could see on her face the struggle between aroused curiosity and
little-girl uncertainty.  "Oh.  Well, uh,... I think-- I think I'd like to
see it."  She licked her lips again and swallowed, and straightened her
shoulders.  A slight but enjoyable aroma permeated the crotch of her jeans.
   I leaned back and unhooked my belt, unzipped my fly, and slowly pushed
down my jeans and my shorts.  My cock sprang up like a Jack-in-the-box but
Sharon didn't even flinch.  I'd been successful in subverting her
inhibitions and fears, and now this was what she really wanted to see.  In
fact, she leaned closer in obvious fascination and hesitantly reached out
her hand.
   "You can touch it, Sharon, it won't hurt you.  You really want to find
out what it feels like, don't you?  You really want to hold my cock in your
hand...."
   And then her soft, warm fingers had grasped the thickest part of the
shaft, near the base -- and her other hand had closed carefully over the
head.  "Wow... it feels so hard and so soft, at the same time...."  She
moved her lower hand slowly, lightly, up and down, staring fixedly at what
she was doing.  She seemed to be trying to imitate Phil but she wasn't sure
how.  It sure felt nice, sitting there, being jerked off by this cute
little teenybopper, but if things reached their natural conclusion I'd
probably make a mess I'd have a very hard time cleaning up or explaining.
   "We'll just do this much, Sharon."  I folded my hand gently around hers
and moved it upward, squeezing a large drop of semen onto the palm of her
hand.  "Sharon, you have an overwhelming desire to know what that 'white
stuff' tastes like, don't you?  It can't hurt you and it doesn't taste bad.
Women do this all the time.  Put out your tongue, now, and lick that drop
off your hand.  Taste it slowly and remember what it tastes like."  She put
out her little kitten tongue and cleaned her palm with a thoughtful
expression.  Her nose twitched and she smiled.
   "Now, Sharon, cup your hands over your nose and mouth and inhale deeply.
That's it, sweetheart.  Remember that aroma, Sharon: That's what sex smells
like.  It smells wonderful, doesn't it?  Do you like it?"
   She smiled again and nodded happily as she lowered her hands.  "Yes, I
really like it."
   "All right, Sharon.  You will not remember that any of this has
happened.  But whenever you feel sexy, whenever you start to masturbate,
sometimes you will think about when you watched Phil jerk off -- but more
and more often, you will think about me, instead.  You will think about
what my penis looks like and feels like.  Your imagination will call up the
visual memories and images of this afternoon.  You'll remember the smell of
sex.  And your imagination will take it from there: You will fantasize
about having sex with me, all different kinds of sex, and that will make
you very, very horny.  All this will happen only when you're by yourself
because you don't want to get caught, do you?  You will always be aware
that it's just your imagination coming up with sexy, exciting thoughts for
you to get off on.  But you'll also start to have private daydreams about
making love with me.  You won't know why it's *me* your imagination has
picked to fantasize about, but you won't worry about that.  And, Sharon --
you will begin to look forward to seeing me again during the summer, won't
you?  You will begin to think about finding some way to meet me alone."
   She smiled warmly.  "Oh, yes -- I'm really looking forward to seeing you
again next summer."  She was gripping my cock again and now she gave it a
friendly little squeeze before releasing it.  All this was so far beyond my
spur-of-the-moment expectations, I could hardly believe it.
   I stood and pulled up my jeans and tucked in my shirttail while sexy
little Sharon watched with bright eyes.  I reminded her once more that she
would not consciously remember what we had been up to and then I brought
her up out of her trance.
   She blinked and I said, "Well, It's been nice seeing you again, Sharon.
Tell your brother I stopped by, okay?  Ask him to give me a call before we
go back to school."
   "It's nice to see you again, too.  Real nice," she added.  Her tone and
her expression were freighted with new meaning.  "Maybe I'll see you again
over summer vacation...?" she suggested.  She looked hopeful and she was
leaving eyetracks all over my body.  Who knew what might happen when the
seeds I'd planted began to ripen...?  I felt kind of like a squirrel
putting away nuts for the winter.


                           *  *  *  *  *


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright 1993 by Michael K. Smith. Copies may be made and posted elsewhere
for personal enjoyment, but all commercial rights are reserved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Michael K. Smith             [e-mail]
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
It doesn't TAKE all kinds, we just HAVE all kinds
--
Moderator, rec.arts.erotica.  Submissions to [e-mail].
Please, no reposts, first drafts, or requests for "subscriptions,"
stories, GIFs, or archive sites.

Next thread [Return], Reply, or ?>