Wilderness
PART 2: Allison
The following evening we re-convene at the lodge—our days begin so early that by 4 or 5 we are already exhausted and are happy to spend the remainder of the daylight hours drinking or telling stories, guests lounging by the pool or in the hot tub. Today’s excursion involved a riverboat ride with numerous bird sightings. Anna should by all rational means be the celebrity of today, having manned the boat, spotted the birds, and showcased a decently sized Anaconda that she found in the branches of a tree by the boat dock.
She sits at the bar, her lithe form perched on a stool, tucking her hair behind her ears. She is politely answering questions, but eventually the tourists have their questions answered and leave and she sits alone, nursing her beer. I sit down beside her. She is wearing a white V-neck T-shirt with a gray sweater over it because it is cold in the lodge.
“You had an amazing day today,” I tell her.
“It was,” she says, smiling. “It was a really good day.”
“I hope your evening is just as rewarding,” I say cheerfully and lift my beer to toast her. She lifts her beer but smiles, shaking her head.
“The evenings aren’t exactly rewarding,” she says. “Thoughtful, maybe. Reflective.”
“You’re welcome to stay out and drink with all of us,” I encourage.
“Maybe at some point,” she says politely. “I just don’t always mesh well with others.”
“I try to drink enough so that I stop caring how well I mesh or don’t mesh,” I tell her, and she laughs. I am secretly pleased to have made her laugh. She looks at me and for a moment I am overwhelmed by her—the top of her breasts visible through her V-neck which I am trying desperately not to look at. Her long, tanned legs. The curl of her hair brushing against the small red mosquito bite on her neck. I imagine twenty scenarios in which I grab her and take her up to my room, fucking her senseless, gorging myself on her beautiful, soft body, but then I am back to reality and she is standing there, smiling at me, telling me she’s going to head up to her room to read and go over tomorrow’s agenda.
“Another evening then,” I say. “Stay out and keep me company.”
“Maybe,” she says smiling, and disappears into her room.
Tonight it is two girls in the hot tub who were told the tarantula story by their friend. I sit on one of the lounge chairs, peering down from the pool deck.
“Nicole can’t stop talking about what you did to her yesterday,” they say. “With the spider. Did that really work?”
“It did,” I say. “It worked very well.”
“And that’s all you did?” one of the girls asks, smiling mischeviously. “You guys disappeared for a while.”
I say nothing but smile at them knowingly.
They are attractive in the same way their friend was attractive—they are pretty, albeit over processed and overdressed for a wilderness lodge. They are both blonde, taking care not to get their hair wet in the hot tub. One is thin and one is more voluptuous, her gorgeous breasts on display atop her crossed arms. I am a little drunk and am having trouble not blatantly staring at her breasts. They are both wearing string bikinis.
“So can you make it so we’re not afraid of Jaguars?” the thinner one asks.
“Why wouldn’t you want to be afraid of Jaguars?” I ask. “You should be VERY afraid of Jaguars,” I tell them.
“What about snakes?” she says.
“You should be wary of some snakes,” I tell her.
“But not terrified,” she says. “I want to know what it feels like to not be afraid of snakes.”
“If you want,” I say.
“Go ahead,” the voluptuous one says. “Do her. I’ll stay here and watch. I want to see how you do it.”
“You don’t want to get involved?” I ask her. And she shakes her head, smiling seductively. Already I can feel myself getting aroused just from the way she is smiling. Where do they teach girls to smile like this?
“I didn’t say I don’t want to get involved,” she says, suddenly coy, batting her eyelashes. “I just don’t know if I want you to use the wand on me.”
“Use it on me,” the thinner one says, giggling. “I’m not afraid of your wand, Mr. Big Tough wilderness guy. It may work on a Jaguar but it may not work on me.”
“It will work on you,” I tell her politely. “It works on everyone.”
And I am mildly uncomfortable because we are so much closer to the lodge than last night. I look at the windows but most of the lights have gone dark.
“Do I need to get out of the hot tub?” the thin girl asks, and I tell her no, she is fine where she is. I remove my wand from its sheath and hold it in front of her eyes. The blue light from the wand is reflected in her dilated pupils. I cross the wand back and forth in front of her face, slowly, rhythmically. I would feel ridiculous—like a mediocre B movie villain, if I were not so turned on by the sight of these women in their small black bikinis—their faces growing blank, their mouths going slack. Is is only the thin one at first—the voluptuous one is going to “just watch,” which I will allow her to do for a few minutes. Her friend is already wide-eyed and silent, watching the wand go back and forth, her back stick straight.
“Back and forth,” I tell her.
“Back and forth,” she says.
“Already you are feeling much more relaxed. Much less anxious.”
“I feel...” she stutters. “Different. I feel...”
Back and forth,” I say, waving the wand like a metronome.
“Back and forth,” she whispers.
“Back and forth,” I say. “Let your eyes follow the light.” I keep my language mellow and hypnotherapy based, knowing that her friend is watching us.
“You feel very relaxed,” I tell her.
“Very relaxed.”
“Watching the wand makes you more and more relaxed,” I say, touching the back of her head gently with my hand.
“What did you do to her?” the voluptuous girl asks, awed.
“I helped her slow down her mind a little.”
“You did it so fast.”
“It happens fast,” I tell her. And with that I wave the wand three times in front of her own face. “You can already feel something after just my doing that, can’t you?”
“I...”
“Admit it,” I tell her. “You already feel a change.”
“I...I feel a little bit numb and tingly,” she admits.
“You do,” I assure her. “You feel a little bit numb and tingly, and if I were to do it three more times,” I say, waving the wand three more times slowly across her face,” you might feel a little more sleepy, a little more relaxed.”
“I feel...” she began. Already she is floundering for words.
“You do feel,” I said calmly. “That’s part of what will happen. Usually in life you both feel and think, but this wand will make you think a lot less and feel a lot more. You won’t need to think much for what we have planned tonight.”
“It’s so hard to...think,” the voluptuous girl says softly.
“I know,” I tell her. “And after I’ve already used it this much it’s going to be hard for you to remember that you didn’t want to be put under in the first place, or to resist it if I try.” I slowly, steadily, begin passing the wand before both girls’ faces.
“Didn’t want to be put under...” she says, emotionless. I laugh politely.
“But you’re going to go under anyway.”
“No...wait,” she says, “I don’t want...”
“You can’t remember what you want and don’t want,” I say.
“Can’t remember...” she says.
“There’s a tiny part of you that wants to resist, but that part feels itself growing weaker and weaker as you look at the light,” I say.
“Look at the light,” she murmurs.
They are both fabulous subjects—not too smart, but pretty and easily put under. The voluptuous one appears a little smarter than her friend, as evidenced by the fact that she is at least attempting to resist. It’s always such a turn on to see them trying to resist. To see them fighting it, only to eventually succumb. The fighters are always my favorite.
“You’re all done fighting,” I tell her, passing the wand over her vacant eyes. “You’re all done trying to resist.”
“Resist,” she says, her voice empty.
“You’re not going to resist,” I tell her, running my hand along her already slack jawline. “You’re going to relax and enjoy the evening. In fact, you’re both feeling very submissive.”
“Back and forth,” I say.
“Back and forth,” they repeat.
“It gets harder and harder to think,” I tell them.
“Harder and harder to think.”
“What’s your name?” I ask the voluptuous one.
“Alison,” the girl says quietly.
“Alison, you’ll forgive me for putting you under, but I’d be self conscious having you watch me fuck your friend in the state she’s in...which is one you’re in now as well, of course. I won’t touch you unless that was something you were considering anyway. Were you thinking about sleeping with me? Answer me honestly, please.”
“Yes,” she says softly.
“So you wanted to sleep with me but you didn’t want me to use the wand.”
“Scared of what I’d do if you used the wand.”
“You were nervous about giving up control,” I tell her, stroking her face gently. “You don’t have to be nervous about that any more—in fact, you love giving up control.”
“I love giving up control.”
“You want to let me be in control for tonight.”
“Let you be in control for tonight.”
“Alison, you still have your arms crossed. Girls who have their arms crossed are usually defensive—they’re usually anxious about opening themselves up. When I touch you on the shoulder, you will uncross your arms and feel your defenses drop. You will become perfectly open to whatever I suggest.”
I gently tap her on the shoulder and Allison, eyes glazed, lets her arms fall to her sides, her enormous breasts reigned in by a bikini top the size of a cocktail napkin. I continue crossing the wand before their eyes, slowly back and forth.
“You are both so relaxed,” I say, “It’s wonderful to feel this relaxed, but it’s hard to keep yourselves from sliding into the warmth of the tub.” And with that the girls relax further, sliding down the bench, their heads tipping back. Their hair is wet now—blonde and sleek with water, and their mascara slightly smudged. They look wild—or as wild as they have allowed themselves to look since arriving in the jungle. I am having a hard time not going after them right here in the hot tub but we are too close to the lodge.
“Stand up, girls,” I say, and Alison and her thinner friend stand up, their eyes blank, water dripping off their hair and their black bathing suits and their beautiful tanned bodies. “Step out of the tub,” I tell them.
And that is when I see Anna, twenty feet away. She is holding a folded towel and wearing a simple, navy blue bathing suit top with her khaki shorts. She looks at me and then looks at the girls, who are vacant-eyed and speechless. Her posture becomes suddenly defensive.
“What’s going on?” she says.
“Shit,” I think. “Shit shit shit.” This is not how I want her to see me—this is not the person I want to be for Anna, but here I am, with two deeply tranced blonde girls in black bathing suits. Neither of the girls seems to notice Anna is there.
“What’s wrong with them?” Anna asks me, her voice anxious and agitated.
“Nothing’s wrong with them,” I tell her. “They’re the same girls from the lodge last night. They get drunk and flirt and ask me to use the wand on them. It’s something girls do a lot.”
I try to make it sound as innocent as possible—as if the girls have forced my hand. As if they forced me at gunpoint to use the wand on them, turning them into speechless, vacant, sexdolls. As if I am repulsed by the entire scenario.
“The wand for the animals?” she says, incredulous.
“I’ve had a lot of girls ask me to use it on them. I think they assume it’ll be like getting drunk fast. These girls asked me to help make them less afraid of snakes.”
Anna backs away from me slightly, beginning to shake. I watch as she quietly places a hand on the knife that is sheathed in her belt.
“Do I look like an idiot?” she asks, turning. “Do I look like I was born yesterday?”
“God, no, Anna. I don’t...I mean...they really did ask if I would help them overcome their fear of snakes.”
“And that’s all you were going to do to them?” she says, angrily. “You were going to take these two gorgeous hypnotized women in bathing suits into the jungle and you were going to make them less afraid of snakes? I’m embarassed that you think I’m that much of a moron,” she says. “I’m embarassed that I even came out here to keep you company.”
God, I think, I have ruined fucking everything.
“Please,” I say, pleading. “If I had known you would join me I wouldn’t have bothered spending time with anyone else. I would love to have you keep me company.”
“I don’t think I’m the sort of company you want,” she says sarcastically, gesturing to Allison.
“I’ve wanted to spend time with you for months now,” I tell her, perhaps too forcefully. “You are exactly the sort of company I want. You’re beautiful and interesting and I smile every time we’re talking because I’m so happy you’re talking to me. That’s completely true.”
“You’ll excuse me if I don’t exactly believe you,” she says angrily. “But judging from what’s happening here, you seem fairly happy with another type of woman.”
“Stop it,” I say. “I know it looks terrible and I’m not proud of what I’m doing, but you need to believe me.”
And suddenly I am gripped with a one-shot idea and I reach for my wand. Anna immediately reaches for her knife.
“Don’t you DARE use that wand near me,” she says. If you so much as flash it once in front of me I will throw this knife, so help me god, and I won’t miss. I’m not an idiot and I am not a bad shot. I know something that’s supposed to work on snakes and Jaguars will be pretty effective on human beings.”
God, I think, how I want to use the wand on Anna—to see her tranced and heaving with pleasure—to see her obediently removing her clothes at my command and offering herself to me, her breasts swinging hypnotically. I want to watch her resistance being overcome as her beautiful gray eyes glaze and she becomes helpless and sweetly compliant. I could chance it, I think, technically. There is always the chance that I could subdue her with the wand before she had hurt me too badly. That I could get her under before I was bleeding from too many stab wounds. But I also know that I can’t, of course. Because to betray Anna’s trust would hurt me more than anything else would hurt me. Because I would never want her to be with the type of person who would betray her trust.
And that is when I reach for the wand and, pulling it rapidly out of my belt, hurl it at her feet. I see her reach for the knife and I try to throw myself out of the way but she is fast and I am a little drunk and it grazes my arm, lodging in the tree behind me. She sees that I am bleeding but not heavily. She stares, dumbfounded, at the wand I have thrown at her feet.
“Pick it up,” I tell her, clutching my wounded arm.
“What are you doing?” she asks, incredulous.
“Use it on me,” I tell her.
“What??”
“You don’t believe me—that I care for you, that I would never hurt you. Use the wand on me until I’m under enough that I can’t lie to you and ask me how I feel.”
“Are you insane?” she asks. “And what about them?” she gestures to Allison and her skinnier friend, who are still standing, oblivious, awaiting instruction.
“Have them sit down or sleep while you do it,” I tell her. And bring me out of it when you’re done—don’t leave me tranced in the middle of the fucking jungle.”
Anna stands, weighing her options. Her lower lip is trembling slightly but her posture is brave, determined. She walks over to the girls and whispers something to them and both girls lie down on the floor of the jungle, instantly asleep. Anna walks toward me with the wand—I am still clutching my arm to subdue the bleeding.
“All right,” she says. “I’m sorry about your arm. I thought you were going to try to—”
“I know what you thought. I would never hurt you,” I say.
“Maybe you should,” she said, gesturing to the knife wound. “Clearly I have no trouble hurting you.”
“You were defending yourself.”
“Ok, enough with this,” she says suddenly. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Go ahead,” I tell her. “Don’t put me under too deep if you want me to coherently answer questions.”
Anna waves the wand slowly over my face and immediately I feel like I have taken some sort of powerful drug. My entire body and my brain feel slower, as if I am moving and thinking through syrup. I watch the light moving back and forth, unable to tear my eyes from it. And suddenly I feel happy and relaxed. I am so relaxed that I can barely keep my eyes open. Someone is standing in front of me, talking to me, and I am talking back to her. A very pretty woman is talking to me and I am answering her questions. She is so pretty, I think. I want to answer all of her questions honestly because I could never lie to someone so pretty. She asks me something about the wand, and whether I wanted to use it on her and I tell her of course! That I would love to use the wand on her to make her relaxed and obedient and submissive. That nothing gets me as excited as seeing gorgeous, hypnotized women who will do anything you ask them to do. The woman gets very upset at me for this. She asks if I would ever try using the wand on her and I politely tell her that I only use the wand on girls who are coming on to me strongly, or who flat out ask me to use the wand on them. I would never make anyone have sex with me who didn’t want to have sex with me, I tell her.
The pretty woman narrows her eyes and asks how I feel about Anna, the guide I work with and I feel my face get red. I love her, I tell the woman. She’s smart and beautiful—I’m so intimidated by her. But I’ve loved Anna since I met her. She’s different from every other girl I’ve met.
“If she liked you,” the woman said, “could you stop doing this?” She gestured to two beautiful girls sleeping on the floor of the jungle. “If you were with Anna could you stop doing this to women?”
“I would never stop being turned on by it,” I tell the woman happily, my words casually spilling from my mouth, “because I can’t control that. I would always want to do it so badly. I would always fantasize about it. Always. But I would stop doing it.”
“You would stop?”
“You can’t help what you think but you can help what you act on. And I wouldn’t want to act on anything that would hurt Anna,” I say.
“I am a lot of things,” I continue, sighing, feeling so wonderfully relaxed. “But I am not a terrible person.” I am happy the pretty woman has asked me all these questions. I feel so good when I answer them honestly—answering her questions honestly makes me feel so relaxed and happy. I feel relaxed and calm when I do what she tells me to do.
The pretty woman has tears well up in her gray eyes but suddenly she begins to cross the wand back and forth over my eyes and she is whispering something in my ear for a long time. I smile and feel my mind get cloudier. Everything that is happening is fine, I think. It is good to feel this warm and obedient and relaxed. And my eyelids suddenly become so heavy that keeping them open is a gargantuan act of will. I allow them to slide closed, and everything goes dark.
I open my eyes. I must have drifted off, I think. Allison and her friend are lying on the floor of the jungle which I don’t remember telling them to do, but I suppose I did because how else would they have gotten there? There is a makeshift bandage around my arm made from a roughly cut-up towel and at first I wonder how it got there and why there is so much dried blood on my arm, but suddenly it strikes me as not all that important and I stop worrying about it. I’m sure it’s nothing.
I gently wake up Allison and her friend and they are still in trance. Where were we, I think? How did I get so off track? And then I remember—snakes. I was going to find a snake for one of the girls to help her get over her fear and that is when I notice that there is a medium sized boa lying on the ground in front of us, as if someone has left it there for us to find. I pick it up and hold it as it curls through my hands and over my shoulders.
“Stand up, girls,” I tell them, and they both rise.
“What is your name?” I ask the thinner girl. “I still don’t know your name.”
“Tara,” she says.
“Ok, Tara, you were afraid of snakes, but by the time we’re through here you’ll find that snakes don’t bother you anymore.” And with that I place the boa around her shoulders, letting it weave in and out of her hands.” Tara stands, eyes blank, as if hypnotized by the snake itself.
“And for you, Allison,” I say softly. “Spread your legs and put your hands behind your head so I can look at you.”
Allison places her long, tanned arms behind her head, causing her already enormous chest to jut out further. Gently, I pull the string that unties the black bow of her bikini, allowing her breasts to fall free and almost instantly I have a painful erection. They are gorgeous and heavy and full, the nipples pink and enormous. Reaching for the wand, I pass it back over her eyes and her gaze immediately locks onto the small blue light, her eyes going back and forth, following the wand.
“You love putting your gorgeous tits on display for me,” I tell her.
“I love putting my gorgeous tits on display for you.”
“As soon as you feel the air hit them you begin to get more and more aroused.”
“Aroused...” she parrots, mindlessly, but I see a flush run through her body. Her nipples suddenly become erect and her breathing becomes more ragged.
“When you feel my hands on your skin you become uncomfortably horny,” I tell her. “Your only thought is that you need me inside you.”
“Need you...” she says, shaking, as I place my hands on her waist.
“You are no longer in control,” I tell her, softly. “I am in control and your body is in control. Your body is telling you what it wants. Do you understand what your body wants?”
She whimpers softly, her hips gyrating slightly. I place my hands on her breasts, rubbing the nipples between my fingers. She convulses so violently I momentarily stop to make sure that she is ok.
“You love when I touch your breasts,” I tell her.
“I love when you touch my breasts.”
“You become uncontrolably aroused when you feel my hands on your breasts.”
“I become...oh god stop...I can’t...,” she says, panting
“You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter from the sensations,” I say, and her hips begin bucking softly. Turning away, I address Tara.
“Tara, I need you to fondle Allison’s breasts until she becomes even more excited. I need you to get Allison ready for me,” and Tara, the snake curled around her arm, walks blankly over to her friend and begins playing with her enormous breasts. Tara’s hands pull erotically at the tanned flesh of her friend’s chest as I stand nearby, my cock throbbing. I watch as Tara quietly kisses Allison, her tongue darting in and out of her friend’s mouth, Allison biting through her own lip as she thrashes from her own arousal.
“More and more aroused, Allison,” I say softly.
“Unnhh...oh god,” she says.
Tara takes her friends breast into her mouth and buries her face in its softness, her hand tweaking the nipple of the other breast. The snake slowly ventures between the girls, encircling Allison’s shoulders before returning to Tara. Tara, the snake moving hypnotically over her torso, inserts her fingers into her friend’s dripping pussy. Allison seems as though she is close to passing out from the sensation.
I had gone over dozens of situations we might have enacted, but I have misjudged my own level of control over the situation and I realize I need to be inside Allison immeidately. She is almost crying, she is so aroused, her whimpers making my cock twitch, her scent permeating the jungle around her. Pulling down her bikini bottoms I thrust myself inside her and she closes in around me. It is warm and sticky as the rainforest itself and I am panting. I have Allison drop to all fours and I mount her furiously as she cries out like a cat in heat. I grab for her tits and her hips begin to buck again but I am already so close—she is bucking and I thrust inside her, inches away from my own climax.
“Cum for me, Allison,” I tell her and she bucks so violently I feel myself coming, feel myself unloading the hot tension of the last hour inside her, and both of us collapse on each other.
We lie still for several minutes, Tara standing a few feet away, the snake still coiled erotically around her hypnotized body. I take Allison’s breast in my hand.
“In the future, when you allow yourself to give up control,” I tell her, “you will be as aroused as you were just a few minutes ago. Do you remember how aroused you felt?”
“Yes,” she pants.
“Good,” I say.
And slowly I speak to both Tara and Allison, telling them what they will and will not remember when they wake tomorrow. They nod their heads submissively, their eyes still glassy. There is a lot I am telling them to forget, I think. There is so much of this night that will have to be forgotten, I tell them, and yet, I think, there is this strange, nagging suspicion, that there is something that I have forgotten as well.