“Tangled Passions” | Covert Hypnosis Fable

As the rain poured down heavily, Jason, a student teacher from UW, was driving back home after a tiring day of shadowing the senior history teacher at a local Catholic high school. The evening had begun to cast its dusky shadow, and the roads were becoming slick.

Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared on the side of the road, drenched from head to toe. As he slowed down, he recognized her — it was Kali, one of the students from the history class he was assisting with.

Pulling over, he rolled down the window and called out, “Kali? Is that you? What are you doing out here in this rain?”

She looked up, her eyes widening in recognition. “Mr. Johnson? Oh, thank God! Can I get a ride?”

A slew of concerns raced through Jason’s mind — protocol, appropriateness, the implications. But seeing her so wet and vulnerable overpowered his reservations. “Okay, get in. But for both our sakes, I’ll drop you off a bit before your house. It’s just more appropriate that way.”

She nodded, getting into the car.

“Kali, where should I drop you off?

“Sixth Street at Emerson,” she replied.

As she settled in, Kali’s eyes darted to the pile of tape decks on the passenger seat. With an amused grin, she held up a particular tape. “Depeche Mode? Seriously?”

Jason chuckled, a tad embarrassed. “Yeah, a bit of a guilty pleasure. You know them?”

“Of course!” Kali responded with genuine enthusiasm, “Can we listen to it?”

With a nod, Jason popped in the tape, the familiar tunes providing an unexpected soundtrack to their ride home.

Kali’s petite frame was adorned with the distinctive uniform of a Catholic school. The crisp white blouse clung delicately to her slender shoulders, its collar peeking out just above a plaid tie.

Her navy blue, knee-length pleated skirt accentuated her youthful silhouette, contrasting with her white knee-high socks. Rather than the traditional shoes, Kali had opted for white sneakers, a bit worn and torn at the edges, adding a hint of rebellion to her otherwise pristine appearance.

Though her slender frame didn’t necessarily require a bra, Kali chose to wear one for modesty and added coverage.

Her white bra was faintly discernible through her soaked blouse, the rain having made the fabric nearly translucent. The wetness of her attire accentuated its contours against her nipples.

Earlier that day, Kali had playfully remarked about Mr. Johnson. While seated, his khakis had a tendency to gather around the thighs, unintentionally drawing attention and leading to some whispered speculations. Being one of the younger faculty members, he unwittingly became the subject of many of the girls’ affections.

While cruising in his dark blue ’90s Saab Classic, Kali’s eyes momentarily darted to his crotch area, noticing the familiar bunching. Hailing from a vibrant metropolis like New York, Mr. Johnson radiated a distinctive blend of poise and urbanity. This made him stand out, especially against the more reserved and country-centric sophistication of Kali’s private school classmates.

“So, Kali, share a bit about yourself. You’re in your final year, a senior, right? What’s next for you?” Mr. Johnson inquired.

“Well,” Kali began thoughtfully, “Once I turn 18, I’m looking to enlist in the Air Force. After that, I’m contemplating a career in law, maybe as an attorney or…”

“A lawyer?” He chuckled in response. “Given how diligently you take notes in history class, I would’ve guessed writing as your calling. I’ve heard about your involvement in poetry slams and the books you’ve published. That’s an impressive feat, especially at your age.”

Kali, though reserved, was perceptive. She sensed his veiled admiration and, in a bold yet subtle gesture, shifted her posture, causing her skirt to ride up slightly, unveiling more of her thighs.

He stole a fleeting glance, making no overt move, but there was an unmistakable appreciation in his eyes.

Mr. Johnson subtly steered the conversation. “Kali, could you imagine the feeling of a kiss under this rain, with the whole world blurring away except for that one moment?”

Kali, taken aback but intrigued, glanced outside, where the raindrops raced down the windowpane. “Rain like this reminds me of a poem I once read about two lovers sharing a stolen moment.”

Not missing a beat, Mr. Johnson skillfully utilized her reference, incorporating it into their conversation. “It’s fascinating how rain can evoke such vivid memories. Speaking of memories, can you remember the first time you were kissed?”

She hesitated, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Yes, it was unexpected but… thrilling.”

Sensing the mood, he continued, crafting a path of undeniable statements. “Rain has a way of making things feel intimate, doesn’t it? Just like how a car can become a world of its own, separating two people from the outside. And in such moments, things can happen quite naturally, can’t they?”

She leaned in slightly, lost in the atmosphere he was creating, the line between reality and suggestion becoming beautifully blurred.

The car stopped.

“Kali, as you sit there, have you ever noticed how the soft drumming of raindrops can make you feel? How it can draw your attention, making everything else fade away?”

She nodded, becoming more attuned to the sensations around her. The warmth of the car’s interior, the scent of leather, and the muted sounds of the outside world filtered through the rain.

“Let’s try something, just a fun game,” he started, his voice maintaining that mesmerizing cadence. “Imagine a moment in your past when you kept a secret, maybe a secret that made you feel really good. Got it? Now, I want you to combine the image with one where you felt incredibly cherished and desired to keeping this secret. This secret between you and I, and I want you to move them fast, where they’re combined into one. And not only can you keep a secret Kali but you know it’s because what you’re keeping is making you feel cherished and desired.”

His hand ventured up her skirt, momentarily catching on the fabric of her panties.

“You are wet Kali.”

His fingers ventured further, sensing her responsiveness. He withdrew his hand and, without breaking their intense gaze, moved it towards her lips, urging her to taste her own essence.

She hesitated for a moment before parting her lips and savoring his finger.

“Are you enjoying our little game, Kali? It’s time to head inside; I’m sure your parents are expecting you.”

In a fleeting moment, the game had ended. My heart had found its first true love in Jason. Over the next decade, our paths would intertwine, with me constantly drifting in and out of his life.