"When I count to three you will awake, feel wonderful and you'll be ready to begin," I said softly. "One, two, three!"
She lifted her head, blinked, then carefully looked around. She didn't see me or her surroundings. In her mind I wasn't there and the room was somewhere other than my study. Idly I marveled at the wonders of Hypnosis. Mrs. Ruth Claypool was in a deep hypnotic state and truly believed she was at a reputable university, in a totally secure room, just another anonymous participant in a respectable and responsible study on human sexual response; unknown and unseen by the experts who were going to question her. Even her voice would be disguised.
In safe, non-threatening surroundings' women like Ruth Claypool - allegedly good and decent, became more than willing, even excited to reveal their secret innermost sexual self. As a practicing psychologist I knew from experience these same women could hide the most veracious sexual appetites; some suppressed while others actively indulged in sexual cultures most people only dream about. Behind her careful facade, Ruth Claypool was one of the active ones.
Ever since my nieces' slumber party, three weeks ago, when I had stumbled on to the fact that the lovely, and oh-so-fuckable Ruth Claypool, the prim and proper wife of our esteemed and pompous minister, the Reverend Doctor Claypool was secretly fucking Charles, the church sexton - the very big and black church sexton! - I had been waiting for an opportunity to find out more. That night a drugged, thus truthful, Ruth Claypool had divulged that she loved the wicked debauchery of having black cock thrill her luscious and responsive body, and had from an early age. This was sensational stuff and the voyeur in me couldn't wait to find out how this sweet, but seemingly unworldly Christian lady started leading a double life. I had to get it on tape.
I connived to get her to visit my house again on the pretext of discussing her chaperoning another of my niece's slumber parties. Once in my study, without her being aware of it, I induced hypnosis, placed her in a deep trance and prepped her with information about the study, convincing her that she had something important to contribute and that her participation would be completely secure and forever secret. That was most important since people under hypnosis usually won't do anything they wouldn't do while conscious - unless, of course, they're convinced that their surroundings are real. To Ruth, this was real.
"Good morning."
Ruth looked around the room for the disembodied voice then 'saw' the speaker on the desk. "Good morning," she said in that soft, husky voice of hers. Just a hint of a southern drawl.
I smiled to myself. Beneath the conservative suit was a really good-looking woman; pretty face, full breasts, slim waist, and long, shapely legs. She also had a thick, hairy bush covering a hungry pink-lined cunt that produced thick and juicy pussy cream and a mouth that sucked cock like a vacuum cleaner. She was the epitome of that old saying, A lady in the living room, a whore in the bedroom.
"Just to review the ground rules. We don't know you, so naturally no names will be used. We'll refer to you as "Miss." You can call me, "Doctor." This conversation will not be recorded but it will be transcribed."
"Yes, that's right," she said, unaware that repeating the ground rules just reinforced my hypnotic suggestion to her. She would be completely comfortable in these surroundings and totally truthful.
"Thank you, Miss. Would you please state your age, race and martial status."
"I'm thirty-eight, white, and I'm married."
"Is your sex life with your husband satisfactory?" I asked in a detached and deliberately boring manner. A real sex survey would be done just that way.
"Not really."
"Have you ever had an extramarital affair?"
She paused. I could see the glint in her eyes. She was about to reveal a deep dark secret, "Yes. Several times. In fact, I'm really a slut at heart. I love sex!" Ruth's voice was breathless. "Special sex!"
"What sort of special sex?"
"I love fucking black men!" She said in a voice suddenly charged with emotion, "Big cocked black men! The bigger and blacker the better. I love watching them put their black pricks in me; seeing their dark color on my white skin! You wouldn't believe how hard I cum when a black man fucks me."
Bingo!
"Black men! I see. When did you first become aware of this, eh ... fixation?" My chest was tight and I had trouble keeping my voice under control. This was super voyeurism.
"It's kind of a long story and it doesn't begin with me."
I felt my cock jump. This was what I was waiting for. "That's quite all right. Take all the time you need," I said, and checked to insure that the recorder was running.