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Under the Bell
by Rajah Dodger

[bell] [2000-05-06] Under the Bell Curve [mf mc]

Under the Bell Curve, by Rajah Dodger <rdodger@hotmail.com>, Copyright (c) 2000. Electronic not-for-profit reproduction rights are explicitly granted with the stipulation that this authorship and permission note must remain attached.

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 built 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

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