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Sunday, January 30, 2005

play time
Dr. Paul Evans, psychiatrist, clicked the OFF button on hismini tape recorder and set it down. He'd give the tape tohis assistant for transcribing later; for right then, heset it aside and looked over the hypnotic script on hiscomputer screen one more time.One eye crept back to the clock -- 2:45pm; his wife Joycewould be in soon to say goodbye as usual before going home.It was an arrangement they'd made once Jeremy, now sixyears old, had started school. Paul's office hours startedat 10:00 and ended at 6:00; it was his job to get Jeremyup, fed, ready, and on the school bus every morning. Joycecame in at 7:00 to open the office and take the firstappointments, and left by 3:00 each day so that she wouldbe home when Jeremy's bus dropped him off. From Joyce andPaul's perspective, it was an ideal solution to the age-oldwork/family/daycare dilemma -- they each played a role inJeremy's daily life, yet they could both continue topractice their profession on a reasonable schedule withoutstressing out over the hassles of modern day care. Some oftheir patients, who found the available early and lateappointment slots convenient, benefited as well.Right on schedule, his office door opened and Joyce pokedher head inside. "Busy?""Not for you."Joyce came inside the office, closing the door behind her,and plopped onto the analysis couch. "Help me, Doctor,"she said in mock distress, "I think I'm having a nervousbreakdown."Paul clucked his tongue sympathetically. "The Donahuetwins?"Joyce smiled and nodded, a tired sigh escaping her lips."Very perceptive, Doctor."Paul nodded. Joyce's specialty was children withbehavioral disorders; the Donahue twins were her mostdifficult patients: a pair of identical 12-year-olds witha talent for draining the patience of the adults aroundthem. Paul had put them on a medication that seemed tohelp, but the parents were inconsistent about making surethe kids took it."I think I know exactly what you need, young lady," hesaid, putting on a comically fake Austrian accent. "Youneed to spend a night making wild, passionate love withyour psychiatrist.""But Doctor," Joyce objected with a twinkle. "What will myhusband say?"It was an old joke, of course, but they both laughedanyway. Paul came over to his wife's side and took herhand, stroking it gently. "Seriously, hon," he said. "Youlook pretty stressed out. I want you to relax some thisafternoon. Relax, let go, take it easy."At the words 'relax, let go' Joyce's eyes fluttered alittle bit. "I know what you're doing," she said, "and Ifully intend to. Jeremy is spending the night at Alex'shouse, remember? All I have to do is drop him off, and weget the whole night to ourselves.""I remember," Paul confirmed, his voice staying low andsteady. "In fact, I'm looking forward to it. We've bothearned a little play time, Joyce..."His wife's eyes widened in surprise for all of half asecond, then glazed over and closed as she slipped intotrance. Paul savored the image; they'd done this to eachother hundreds of times in their 10-year marriage, but thesight of his wife going deeply under at his command stillput a lump in his throat -- not to mention his pants."Relax, Joyce," he continued. "Deeper and deeper, notworrying about the time, just listening to my voice." Oneeye on the clock, he deepened his wife's hypnotic stateuntil he judged she was well under. Then he reached intohis briefcase and pulled out a shiny plastic toy: a gun,adorned with colored lights and thunderbolts, labeledGalaxy Blaster Stun Gun."Now listen to me very carefully, Joyce ... "Joyce's eyes snapped open. She looked up at her husband insurprise, then chuckled softly at the impish grin on hisface. "Why do I keep letting you do that?" she asked."Because you always feel better afterwards," he suggested.Joyce smiled back at him. "You're right," she agreed. "Ido feel better. Calmer, more refreshed, all good things."She peeked at the clock. "But if I don't get out of herenow, I'll be late for Jeremy's bus.""Sorry, dear ... I just hate to see you leave here sofried."Joyce rose from the couch and kissed him, a deep kiss thatpromised more to come. She brushed a hand across the frontof his pants and, feeling the erection inside, added, "Savethat for later, okay?" She walked out of the office at3:05, feeling content and in control.For Joyce and Paul, it was a much-needed evening out:dinner at a four-star restaurant, followed by drinks anddancing. By the time they got home it was late."That was wonderful," Joyce said to her husband, "but nowI'm beat. It's bed time." She kicked off her shoes,picked them up and headed for the bedroom."Not so fast," Paul countered. "I've got a little surprisefor you."Joyce turned and winked at him. "If it's what I think itis, I've seen it before ... but you can show me again ifyou do it soon.""You go ahead," he told her. "I'll be right behind you."He watched appreciatively as his wife slinked up the stairsin her clingy black dress. She put a little extra sway inher hips to encourage him.Paul waited until she was out of sight then retrieved theray gun from his briefcase. He hid it behind his back andfollowed her into the bedroom.Joyce was standing in front of her vanity when he reachedthe bedroom. She had already let down her long brown hair,and was in the process of removing jewelry. "I hate towaste the opportunity," she said to his reflection in themirror, "but honestly, I'm too tired for anythingelaborate. Can we just have a quickie tonight, and maybeset the alarm a little early?""Sure," he said with a sneaky smile, bringing the toy guninto view and aiming it at her.Joyce froze and looked quizzically at the gun. "What areyou going to do," she joked, "screw me at gunpoint?""Close," he said, and pulled the trigger. Red and greenlights flashed where the gun's muzzle was, and it emitted ahigh-pitched warbling sound.Joyce gasped at the sound and dropped the earring she hadbeen in the process of removing. A sensation gripped her,that of a half-dozen hands and mouths kissing, stroking,licking the most sensitive areas of her body. In secondsher nipples became hard and distended, her breathinglabored, her sex steamy and slick. "What the --" sheturned to face her husband, bewilderment on her face, tosee him pull the trigger again.The sensation hit her again, twice as powerful as the firsttime. She moaned out loud and fell back against the wall,one hand pawing at her breasts, the other going straight toher crotch -- whether her hands were there to protect or tofurther stimulate she didn't know or care. Part of hermind, the professional therapist, detached itself a littlebit and admired the strength and ingenuity of what must bea posthypnotic suggestion while her body quivered withsexual energy.Paul fired the gun a third time and Joyce's mind shut downcompletely for a few seconds as a thundering orgasm rippedthrough her body. She squealed with delight as her legsbuckled beneath her, her body sliding down to a sittingposition on the floor.Paul watched with lust in his eyes as Joyce's orgasmsubsided, letting her catch a couple of breaths. He camecloser, standing over and her, smiling wickedly. WhenJoyce's eyes opened and looked up at him, he lifted the gunand fired one more time.Joyce saw the lights and heard the sound, and then squealedagain with the impact of a second orgasm. She quivered andheaved on the floor, feeling the aftershocks, waiting tosee if he would do it again.But he didn't. Paul set the toy gun aside and knelt downnext to his wife, who was slowly collecting her wits. "Twoorgasms," he said teasingly, "and you're not even undressedyet. How's that for a quickie?""Hoo-boy," Joyce panted, regaining her breath. "A littleforeplay would have been nice, though."Paul took his wife's hands and helped her to her feet. Hereached behind her, found the zipper at the back of herdress, and pulled it down slowly. "Baby," he said in alow, sexy voice, "that was the foreplay." His handsslipped the dress off her shoulders as he drew her in for akiss. Their lips met and their tongues met as they kissed,each of them now working at the other's clothes. In a fewminutes they were both naked and made their way to the bed.Joyce sat down first and let herself fall backward; Paultook the hint and positioned himself between her legs, theninserted himself into her dripping, waiting slit. Joycewas still highly aroused from the two orgasms, and Paul washigh on the sexual thrill of watching his suggestions workon her; it wasn't log before they were both grunting andmoaning through their climaxes -- her third, his only."That," Joyce declared at breakfast the next morning, "wasdepraved.""What?" Paul looked across the table at her, liking thesparkle in her eyes."Turning an innocent child's toy into an orgasm gun, ofcourse."He grinned sheepishly at her. "Yeah, a little bit," heagreed. "But you have to admit it was fun."Joyce shivered as her body remembered the sensations thathad come from Paul's use of the gun. "Of course it wasfun. More than fun -- I'm tempted to take the day off andspend it in bed shooting myself every few minutes. ""In that case, let me get you some fresh batteries."Joyce wadded up her napkin and threw it at Paul, whoducked. "Were you this much of a pervert when I marriedyou?""Of course," he replied innocently. "That's why youmarried me."She made a show of smacking her forehead. "I knew therehad to be some reason!" Her eye fell on the stove clock."Yikes! I need to get out of here." They shared a tenderkiss, then Joyce fled to the office.Jeremy would be riding to school with the friends who'd lethim stay overnight, so Paul had the morning off. He spentsome time straightening up the kitchen and bedroom. Hestarted to put the gun back in Jeremy's toy box, thenstopped -- the night before had been an awful lot of fun,and Jeremy hardly ever played with the gun himself.Smiling broadly, he took it back to the bedroom and droppedit on the night stand by his side of the bed.Joyce got home at 3:20, just in time to see Jeremy's busdrive up to the end of the block and discharge a few dozenkids. Jeremy, a leggy six-year-old who enjoyed showing offhis long stride, saw his mom at the mailbox and covered thehalf-block between them at a full run. His arms flewaround her waist and he almost pulled them both to theground with the impact. "Mommyyyyyyy!!""How was your day, sweetie?" she asked, adoring the happylook on his face."Great!" he replied emphatically. "I got a 'Great Job'sticker on my math paper, and I got to play with Elliott atrecess.""Ooooohh," Joyce said. "Are you ready to go inside now?""Yup -- I'm hungry!"Joyce chuckled. The school served lunch at 10:45, aridiculously early hour in her opinion when the kids werein school until 3:00. As a result, Jeremy always came homefrom school looking for a snack. "Okay, hon. You go washup, and I'll fix you an apple.""Cool!" Jeremy vanished down the hallway and into thepowder room. A few seconds later he came out again. "Mom,the soap pump is empty."Joyce took the empty hand soap bottle from him. "Why don'tyou use Mommy and Daddy's bathroom, and I'll fill this uplater?"Jeremy made the 'OK' sign and dashed upstairs to thisparents' bathroom. Joyce selected a red delicious applefrom the fruit bin in the refrigerator, cored it, and cutit into slices the way Jeremy liked. She set it on thetable in a plastic bowl, then added a glass of milk and agraham cracker. At that point her maternal sense told herthat Jeremy had gotten sidetracked; he'd been gone toolong. "Come on, Jeremy, I've got your snack ready."As she was washing the knife, she heard the boy's footstepsstomping down the stairs. She put the knife down andturned just in time to see him leap into the kitchendoorway with one hand behind his back. "An alien!" heshouted. "AAAACK!" The hidden hand came out, and therewas a shiny plastic gun pointed at Joyce. Before she couldreact, Jeremy pulled the trigger.Red and green lights flashed, and the high-pitched warblingsound came out loud and clear. Joyce felt her body quiveras the sensation of a half-dozen hands and mouths tingledand teased her once again. She let out a gasp to go withher surprised face.Jeremy waved the gun menacingly at her. "Die, alien scum!"he shouted, and pulled the trigger again.Joyce's mouth dropped open, but no words would come out,only a heavy groan as the stimulation doubled. Her entirebody caught fire once again; her arms grabbed and stroked,and her legs buckled.This time Jeremy giggled gleefully at his mother; she's sofunny, he thought to himself as he watched her gasping andmoaning, pretending that his little ray gun was stunningher. He took a few steps closer and shot her again. Hismommy shrieked and made a really funny face, and sheplopped down on the floor like she was really being hit bya ray gun. Cackling with sadistic pleasure at his mom'soveracting, Jeremy fired the gun again and again. Eachtime Mommy reacted by making more of those really funnynoises and clutching herself like she'd been hit.After a few more shots, Jeremy decided he'd had enough.His mommy, however, stayed on the floor panting andgasping. "You can stop dying now, Mom," he told her withall the wisdom of his years. "It's not a real gun, youknow."Joyce gathered herself together enough to speak. "I know,honey," she said between heavy breaths. "Why don't yougive Mommy the gun, and you can sit down and have yoursnack now?"Jeremy looked over at his apple and graham cracker."Okay," he agreed cheerfully. He handed the gun to hisflushed, prostrate mother, sat down at the table, andstarted eating.Joyce slowly regained her feet. Her legs felt wobbly andweak, but they carried her upstairs to her bedroom. Shesat heavily on the edge of the bed. Her fingers found thelittle trap door in the butt of the gun and opened it,letting two AA batteries fall into her hand. She tossedthem under the dresser and let herself fall backward ontothe bed, the now-unloaded gun landing somewhere beside her,for a much-needed rest.She lay there for maybe a minute in silence, regaining herbreath, and then started to chuckle softly. Isn't thatjust like a 6-year-old, she thought. The one toy in thehouse you don't want him to pick up ... The more shethought about it, the louder her laughter became. Shepictured herself in the kitchen, gasping and moaning out ofcontrol, in the throes of orgasm after orgasm, and herlittle boy laughing himself silly thinking she was playingalong with his game. What else would it look like from hispoint of view? she thought, laughing even more at thesurreal image in her mind.In a few minutes the weirdness wore off and Joyce was backto slow, easy breathing. She grabbed some fresh clothes --her panties and hose were sopping wet in the crotch, andthere was a corresponding wet spot on the dark skirt she'dbeen wearing -- and cleaned herself up, then rejoinedJeremy in the kitchen.Later, while Jeremy was engrossed in the day's episode ofDigimon, Joyce had a mischievous thought of her own.Retiring again to the bedroom, she picked up the phone anddialed Paul's direct number."Hello?""Hi there, loverboy," she said, her voice low and sultry."Are you wearing your headset?" She'd given him one forhis last birthday to make long phone consultations morecomfortable."Not at the moment," he replied. "Should I be?""I'll make it worth your while," she promised."Well, since you put it that way ... " She heard a softclick, then Paul's voice came back. "Okay.""Are you alone?""Yes. And the door is closed. Is this going to become anobscene phone call?" She could hear the anticipation inhis voice. Good, she thought."Deep trance, darling," she said, slowly and evenly."Deeper and deeper, letting go, letting me take care ofyou." She pictured his head dropping down on the desk, hisears picking up her words as they always did when she usedthis trigger on him. She talked him deeper, making sure hewas completely under and ready to receive suggestions. Aslow, satisfied smile grew on her face as she readied forthe next step."Now listen very carefully, darling ... "Back in his office, Paul looked at the phone in mildannoyance. Who the hell was that? he thought. I hate itwhen people just call and hang up."Mommy, Mommy -- Daddy's home!"Joyce came out to the family room and looked out thewindow. Sure enough, Paul was just getting out of his car.She grabbed a nearby toy -- a big, round, clocklike toywith a pull string and a single arrow-shaped hand. Aroundthe perimeter of the toy's face were pictures of commonbarnyard animals. "Here, Jeremy," she said, handing himthe toy. "When Daddy comes in, show him how you've learnedto spell all of the names of the animals. If you pull thecord, he'll make the noise of whatever animal it points to."Jeremy looked puzzled. "Daddy doesn't make animal noises,"he said.Joyce grinned broadly. "He does tonight."by Wiseguy

soroush  Soroush Bokon Tosh ||  3:29 AM

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