Exotika 08 - Private Daydreams

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Exotika 08 - Private Daydreams Page 10

by J. W. McKenna


  Tha mi fo ch˜ram a dhiu ro eileadh.

  Tha mi fo ghruaimean

  ‘S gur fhad o’n uair sin

  Mo ghaol a’ bhuachaill

  ‘S cha chual e fhËin e.

  When he was finished, he was silent for two long minutes. The women stayed huddled in their nakedness, eyes closed, waiting for their ordeal to end.

  “Very well. The curse is almost lifted.”

  “Almost?!” exclaimed Suzanne. “What now?”

  “No, I’m sorry, I misspoke. Please, you may all get dressed now. I’ll explain more fully in a minute.”

  They all scrambled into their clothes. When they were seated on the couch and chair again, their eyes burned holes into Peter as they waited.

  “Please,” he said, holding up a hand. “Relax. The power of the ‘curse’, as you call it, has been greatly diminished. Now it’s back to where it’s supposed to be, just a mere suggestion. Like something you’d all like to do one day.”

  “I think we’ve done quite enough, thank you,” Carol said.

  “Yeah, I never want to have any more fantasies about being a call girl,” noted Wendy.

  “Or an exhibitionist.”

  “Or a slut.” They all laughed nervously at Suzanne’s crude description of her escapades.

  “So then we won’t have these strong desires anymore? You promise?” Carol wanted to be sure.

  “Not according to my clan, who are experts in this. They say such a thing should have never happened. It has never happened before.”

  “Yeah, we should sue,” said Diane. “I’m going to be losing my job over this.”

  “Maybe not. You could go back to your boss and explain that you were hypnotized or something.”

  “Well, I’m just glad it’s over,” Wendy said. “Now I want to go back to my regular life.”

  “What will you do when your escort service calls?” Diane asked.

  “I’ll tell them I retired. Effective immediately.”

  “At least you made six hundred bucks,” Carol said wryly. “I had to pay the man to whip me.”

  “I lost my dignity,” Diane said. “I’ll trade you.”

  Suzanne stood. “Well, if that’s it then we’ll be going.” She turned to the Irishman. “But if anything else happens, can you fix it?”

  “I can redo the incantation again if necessary. But I doubt it will be. Consider yourself cured.”

  The women nodded and left, much relieved. Outside, they stood on the sidewalk and chatted for a few minutes.

  “That little scene in there was weird,” Diane said. “I mean I’m the exhibitionist so I kinda liked it, but it was weird, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it almost seemed like some practical joke or something. I mean if it wasn’t so serious,” added Wendy.

  “But how do you feel? Do you feel different?” Carol looked around anxiously.

  “Yes, I do actually,” Suzanne said. “I don’t feel like picking up any more men, that’s for sure. Maybe I’ll become a hermit.”

  “And I’m glad I have my clothes on,” Diane added.

  “Good. Then I can sleep easy tonight,” Carol said, trying to hide her disappointment in not needing Barry’s services any longer. “Thank god.”

  “Don’t you feel better too?”

  “I guess. But I think it’s so fresh in my mind. I mean it was a powerful experience.”

  “Of course,” Suzanne said, patting her arm. “Just give it time.”

  “Well, I’d better get back to work. Anyone going uptown?” Wendy flagged down a cab.

  “I will,” Carol said, and they jumped in it together.

  “You going downtown? I can get us a cab,” Diane said.

  “Yeah.” But Suzanne stood there, looking pensive.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. Nothing. It’s just this whole thing has me rattled.”

  “That’s the understatement of the year. Come on, I’d better get back to work while I still have a job.”

  * * * * *

  The butler returned to the library and approached Peter’s desk. He picked up the dusty volume and read the cover. “Gaelic poetry, sir?”

  “Were you listening?”

  “To some of it. I used to know that poem in English. It goes something like—

  I will climb no more

  To the wilds of the moorlands;

  I will climb no more.

  I received a letter from Edinburgh

  Saying I must not go to the moorland…

  “I can’t remember the rest.”

  “That’s very good, Emmon. You have an excellent memory.”

  “What about the ladies?”

  Peter laughed. “You know, I’ve never gotten four at once like that. That’s as rare as a four-leaf clover, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, sir. But you really think it was wise, leading them on like that?”

  He shrugged. “Probably not. But it was fun, getting them starkers and all. That little bit of nonsense should keep them for a while. The power of suggestion, you see.”

  “And then what, sir?”

  Peter looked around his favorite room. “I think we might’ve worn out our welcome here in New York. What do you say we pack up and try France for a while? I’d love to snare a lovely young Frenchwoman. I hear they’re very passionate.”

  Emmon smiled. “Very good, sir. I’ll make the arrangements.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tendrils

  For the women, the week crept by in blessed peace, disturbed only by occasional dreams that served to remind them of their individual fantasies. They chalked it up to the “suggestion” left by the curse and moved on to repair the damage in their lives.

  Diane reached out to Dartling by sending him a note to tell him she had been hypnotized at a party recently and was made to think she was an exhibitionist. I fear in my nervousness in meeting with you in your office, I may have regressed into my hypnotized state and acted inappropriately, she wrote.

  He called her back up to his office the next day.

  When she was in his presence again, Diane tried to pretend that she had little memory of their previous encounter. Dartling remained skeptical.

  “This story sounds farfetched,” he told her. “I saw you with my own two eyes. You wanted to stand naked in front of that window and have sex!” He pointed with emphasis at the large window facing across the street.

  Diane followed his finger and found a sudden pang of desire. It shocked her. She covered it well. “Oh my god!” She hid her face in her hands. “I am so sorry! I don’t remember everything that day. I can’t believe I did that!”

  “What do you remember?”

  “Well, I remember you were very nice to me. We were talking and you asked if I needed a brandy. And I remember touching your, uh…” She trailed off. Her boss looked away, embarrassed. “Then…my memory is hazy after that.”

  He softened, but only a little. “This sounds like ‘damage control’. I never knew hypnosis could make one do something they wouldn’t normally do in real life.”

  She looked up. “Sir, I think I know where this came from.” She didn’t have to act during this part—she could feel the blush rise in her face. Taking a deep breath, she described her “secret fantasy”, just as she had done for her friends earlier. He looked shocked.

  “That’s something I never told anyone before because it’s so embarrassing. But I believe this explains why I was able to be hypnotized in that way.”

  “That’s…that’s incredible. So at this party, did the hypnotist make you, uh, do things like that?”

  “Yes, although I don’t remember. He told me he made me cluck like a chicken and other routine things, but I suspected that more took place. The others at the party seemed quite amused by me. It was only after I confided in a friend who was also at the party that she mentioned that the hypnotist made me flash the crowd. It was nothing more than unbuttoning my blouse, she told me. It w
as actually quite innocent, but I think it caused something to be tripped in my mind. That was why I was so strange that day.”

  She saw his surprised expression and quickly added, “I’m not really crazy. I feel I was pushed into it. But I’m better now.”

  He nodded. “Very well. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt—but only because Richard spoke up in your defense. You may return to your office. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  She stood and thanked him for his time. She noticed with some secret pleasure that his cock had again grown hard in his pants.

  * * * * *

  When Wendy’s service called that night, she told Mrs. Tueh she was quitting.

  “What? You just start! You make good money!”

  “I know, but it’s just not me. I thought it was,” she said. “Turns out I’m not a whore after all.”

  And that was it. She was furious and cursed her out in Vietnamese and Wendy simply hung up on her. In an exaggerated motion, she dusted off her hands and tried to put the ugly incident behind her.

  It wasn’t easy. She met Bob in the hallway often and always turned bright red when she remembered how she had fucked him. And that was the proper word—not “make love” or “have sex”. She had fucked him like a hooker.

  “Hi there, Wendy,” he would say, giving her a nod or a wink, and she’d blush and turn away.

  One evening, not long after the incantation, Bob stopped her in the hall and asked her if she had been accepted into that club.

  “What club?” she asked foolishly before she realized what he meant. “Oh that club! I, uh, decided not to join after all.”

  “Really? You seemed willing to do anything to get in before. I was hoping your initiation might be repeated.” He tipped his head knowingly.

  “No! I mean, no, I don’t think so. It was kind of an aberration. Please, can’t we just forget about it?”

  He nodded sadly. “Ah well. I suppose it was too good to be true. But I want you to know that you made my night—hell, my year—and if you ever change your mind, I’ll be around.”

  She thanked him and scooted away. Surprisingly, she felt guilty. He could’ve become a very good customer, she thought. A little pang of desire thrummed in her.

  * * * * *

  Suzanne stayed away from bars—and men—for several days. She went to work, came home and went out only for groceries. She didn’t even contact her best friends, nor did they contact her. It was as if they all wanted to forget everything and just looking at each other would remind them. She hoped their friendship wasn’t ruined forever.

  Friday afternoon, a coworker invited her to join a small group for drinks at the bar down the street. She almost said no then decided it was silly for her to continue to deny herself fun. “Sure,” she said. “Just for a little while.”

  She met two other women in her department in the lobby downstairs and they headed off to the bar to complain about their bosses and discuss projects. It was an enjoyable evening. Suzanne even caught sight of a man she’d like to meet but resisted the urge.

  One of the other women—Alice—caught her roving eye and told her she should go for it. “Come on,” she urged. “Pam and I will be fine. He’s a hunk and he only has eyes for you.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” she said, turning her back to the man. “I’m not in a place to meet guys right now.”

  “Oh really? When does that ever happen for women?” She meant it playfully but it struck a nerve.

  “What? You think I’m just out to pick up men all the time?” She regretted her words instantly and apologized. “I’m just a little on edge. I broke up with a guy recently…” She waved off any further details.

  Even as she spoke, she felt that familiar heat in her loins and realized she missed having a man around. When the stranger sent over a round of drinks to the table, she turned with the others to raise their glasses in thanks and she saw the other women were right—he only had eyes for her.

  He came over. Pam and Alice nearly squealed with excitement. Suzanne steeled herself.

  “Hi,” he said, smiling with even white teeth. He was ruggedly handsome and dressed in an expensive suit. He would look at home chopping wood at a mountain cabin or in a boardroom. “My name is…”

  Suzanne found herself gripping the edge of the table so hard her fingers turned white.

  “Ben. Ben Samuelson.”

  She smiled. The world didn’t end because he told her his name. The curse must really be gone, she decided.

  “Hi,” she said. “I’m Suzanne. This is Pam and Alice.”

  * * * * *

  Carol wrestled with her conscience over the next few days. She knew she was cured yet she wanted to see Barry again. The idea of submitting to the strong, handsome man sent shivers down her spine. Why was that? Perhaps it wasn’t the leprechaun but her own needs coming to the surface.

  She almost called him a couple of times but stopped each time. She also didn’t like the idea of having to pay him. That wasn’t right. If she was going to find someone with whom she could explore this D/s relationship, she damn sure wasn’t going to pay for it! She had more pride than that!

  But it was right, the way it had gone. By paying, she had become the customer. It was a business arrangement. She smiled to herself as she rode the subway home and caught the eye of the man across the seat. He smiled back, thinking she was flirting with him. Carol averted her eyes.

  At home, she allowed her curiosity to get the better of her and sat down at the computer. She called up various bondage and D/s websites. She looked at pictures and read some stories. They excited her and she removed her skirt and pantyhose. Her hand was busy between her legs. Carol brought herself to three orgasms before she finally tore herself away and went to bed.

  Lying there, she could recall the home page of one of the sites, a personal favorite. There to the left had been a list of links she had tried hard to ignore. But now, in her mind’s eye, she could see the link to BDSM Chat and wondered if she would have the nerve—or the need—to explore this lifestyle further.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Realization

  Monday night, the weekly bull session of the girls almost didn’t happen. But Suzanne called and insisted they come to her house to talk over everything. She had her doubts about what had happened at O’Grady’s townhouse and wanted to hear what the others thought.

  They trooped in at seven, looking tired and anxious. Looking at them, it would be hard to imagine the cheerful, funny, bitchy women who had filed in to Suzanne’s just two weeks ago.

  “Anyone want a drink?”

  There came a chorus of affirmatives. Suzanne poured everyone wine. For several minutes they sat and drank without speaking a word. Then Suzanne broke the ice.

  “I know no one really wants to be here. Trust me, I felt the same. Not that I don’t love you girls to death, but I just wanted to be alone with my own thoughts and see if this curse was truly lifted. Since we’re all in this together, I wanted to discuss it with you.”

  The other three nodded. This was like a trip to the dentist—painful but necessary.

  Suzanne went on to describe how much better she felt and how she hadn’t had the urge to pick up men…except for that odd little incident when she met the man on Friday and had to grab the table in panic when he told her his name.

  “I just thought that was strange for a woman who’s ‘cured’. Did anyone have any similar experiences?”

  Diane described her attempts to make amends with her boss. “It seemed to go pretty well but I’m not sure he’s convinced.”

  “Yes, but did you feel any urges? You know…” Suzanne pressed.

  “Well, there was a twinge I felt when I saw his big picture window again. But I chalked that up to the fact the leprechaun still is ‘suggesting’ things to us. It seems controllable…”

  “Wendy? How about you?”

  “I quit the escort service of course. The only thing now is I’m embarrassed to see M
r. Townbridge in the hall.”

  “Well, that’s good news,” Suzanne said. “That’s really good news.”

  “Yeah, except that…”

  The others leaned forward, their faces tense.

  “Well, he was really nice to me. Mr. Townbridge. He was what I would’ve called a ‘good customer’. I still have that feeling about him.”

  “Oh shit,” Carol said.

  “Did you feel something too?”

  “Yeah. I mean mostly I felt this, uh, curiosity. But I haven’t acted on it…yet.”

  “Yet?” Diane asked.

  “It’s hard to explain. Barry—the Dom I visited that one time—was really nice. So I’ve been doing a little research into the subject. And I have been having some dreams again.”

  “Shit,” Suzanne said. “We’ve got to call O’Grady. We might have to have another incantation.” She got up and went to the phone. Standing there, she could see the worry on her friends’ faces and hoped another session would do the trick. The phone rang and rang.

  “Dammit! There’s no answer. And no answering machine.”

  “Well, he’s probably out, doing whatever it is leprechauns do,” Wendy said. “Try again later.”

  The four women tried to talk about other things—work, relationships, mothers—but soon the conversation trailed off. Suzanne tried to call O’Grady again and got nowhere.

  “Tell you what,” she said. “I’ll stop by there tomorrow and talk to him or his weird butler and let you guys know what’s up.”

  They all agreed. Looking at each other, they realized they had nothing more to say. They made their goodbyes and left. Suzanne looked at her watch—seven-forty-five. Normally, the girls would’ve stayed until nine-thirty or ten.

  The next day, Suzanne took a taxi to O’Grady’s during her lunch hour and stepped out, determined to get to the bottom of all this. She froze immediately. There in front of the building was a Realtor’s sign.

  “Oh no,” she whispered, and ran up the steps. She pounded on the door. There was no answer. “Oh no,” she said again, and hurried to a window. Peering inside, using her hand as a shield, she could see only an empty room.

  “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!”

  Grabbing her cell phone, she dialed the Realtor’s number.

 

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