This is the page for the never-ending saga of the young gang of friends that run the mysterious and mystical Hypnotic Shoppe!
Diane returned, looking 50 years younger, cryptic about their journey or if Mable would return. She runs the corner bar, occasionally peers in to give advice and knows much more than she tells.
Wendy and her friends work at the shoppe, go to classes, meet at the Haven, the large gothy night club downtown, and go on fantastical adventures both humorous and horrific. There are aliens, evil organizations, mean neighbors, destructive robots, seductive undead, power hungry hypno-tyrants, insects, (I HATE insects) and a strange cat.
The stories often have Mind Control, Transformation and Hypnosis themes, involve nearly every genre of fetish, from latex, footworship, Pony play, dolls, robots, adult babies, age regression and progression, violence, drug use and casual sex. many scenes involve non consentual events, i.e., being hypnotized against their will, forced to fall in love with the sexy evil villain as an obedient thrall, or become a coat rack. ( it could happen here!)
Therefore here's your warning, if you are not old enough to legally read mature erotic literature, read no further. Also, I write about things I find scary, or erotic and often they are one and the same; some things that I hate and scare me, arouse me, many things I like, are fun and happy, but a bit boring. You'll find it all here I think.
If you are legally allowed though, be welcomed by the jangling door chimes and bells, peruse the periodicals and book shelves of ancient manuscipts, cautiously try the antique furniture, and jewelry, and incense,
. . . and be very careful what clothing you try on . . .
REMODELED 1 , A Hypnotic Shoppe Episode. We do a little catching up here, from Wendy’s receiving the ownership of the shoppe, meeting a few main characters , and an existing sideline story takes center stage.
Wendy flipped her tossed blonde hair back out of her eyes and looked out the streetside window from her apartment, above her store, The Hypnotic Shoppe. Cleaning and remodeling was done, as was fall quarter at college. Her ballet class was full, and she remembered she had to clean the studio, which shared the upstairs hall with her apartment.
She showered quickly and dressed in jeans and a hoody sweater, basic undies and sneakers, and a scrunchy for her hair.
At the door to the street, merely eight feet from her shoppe entrance, she smelled the air. Others may do so to check the temperature or revel in the fragrance of fall. Since her freak transformation a month ago, to a german shepherd and back, she had uncanny senses, and among other things, could smell the presence of other dogs. They also seemed to smell her, and it was that point she was avoiding.
Amy, Wendy’s friend and pixie goth companion, strolled in at exactly nine. She had re-dyed her hair black from last week’s excursion into bleach blonde, and was wearing a black skirt and sweatshirt. The small hyperactive girl with the straight 4.0 average had one tell-tale sign remaining to show she had owned, and gotten too involved with the Ditz dolls. Until the end of the month when she had a surgery planned, her five foot, one hundred pound body would sport breasts size 40 D. Wendy smiled at her friend’s return to her old self.
“Wenders! The new painted walls rock! I love the eerie quality with the candle sconces on the walls, that’s totally cool. How did you make the walls look like stone?”
“Haha! With this stone-paint stuff and a ruler, and some spackle stuff to look like mortar in between. Awesome huh? Now we have a full tea and coffee area and reading area, over there is all the clothing, and that closet is now for trying on things.” Wendy glanced around at the changes she’d made in a month, and felt true improvements had been made. ‘Mabel would have been proud’, the new owner mused, still wondering what had happened to the former owner.
“What did you do to the basement?”
“Um,” Wendy placed periodicals on the magazine shelf haphazardly. “Well there’s one area of the basement I had to have the builders wall off. There’s a way to move one wall though, I will show you some time. The rest of the basement has been made into well, little areas which we can do stuff with later I guess!” Amy scowled, realizing her friend wasn’t going to talk about the forbidden area, or why it “had” to be walled off.
Wendy poured Amy some ginger tea, then grabbed her full length, coyote fur coat.
“Hon, I will be back around noon, I just have to run to the bank and then get some boxes at the post office. You know all about those new oils right? don’t touch! Just read off what they do for the customer. Mark them 250.00 each small vial, and we learned from last night,, don’t get ANY on you. No returns anymore on anything!” Wendy peered down the street both ways, hoping to get to her little car before any stray canines get a whiff of her- needing to avoid another night like last night. With a deep breath and wave of wiggling fingers, the college student performed a Grand Jete' into the windy street.
The heavy wooden door slammed shut with a cacophony of bells and jangling. They’d been there through the last few owners and though annoying, they were supposedly powerful mystic protection, so they stayed. The fire in the fireplace seemed to say goodbye to Wendy, flaring momentarily, then settling back to a low pleasant crackle.
Amy pulled out from her backpack, a copy of ‘You’re Not Your Body’, and sat at the glass counter in the front of the store by the large display window. The new barstool had a back, and more cushiony than the old wood one. Amy felt the changes would be good, and wondered what the future may bring.
Carla put her cigarette out on the bottom of her black slip-on shoe. Her dark blonde hair hung in her eyes, unnoticed. She straightened her button up shirt, pulling the hem to cover her, down
to the low cut hips of her faded jeans.
"Amy, what the Hell are you doing here? Where's Wendy? Wow." Carla took in all the painting, new wood panels and faux stonework. The candle sconces and stone fireplace near the reading area were lit, but by lights resembling real flame. A smile crawled onto her face. She wished she'd washed her hair, now that Amy was working the shift.
"I freaking love it; it's a cross between old world bookstore, medieval antiques, and gothy, mystical," she fumbled for a word tillbCarla put her hand on Amy's shoulder and grinned.
"It's a Harry Potter Head shop."
"What EVER!" Amy pushed her friend with two tiny hands onto Carla's ribs, just below her normal-sized chest. Old feelings twinged in both the girls, who had explored a relationship a year previous.
Both went on to other things- Amy to her studies and Carla to new relationships weekly. Amy grabbed her coat.
"I have to go to the doctor and get THESE removed, and though, they say I will be fine but for sore chest and muscle pain, if you want, you can bring me some soup or something." Amy batted her eyes
as she looked down, only half doing it for the effect.
"Ohh, Ames, you know I'm totally bringing the wine and Demerol, or whatever you need, I still got connections." Carla wondered why Amy would want the 40D implants removed. They were free, and even covered with a zip up cable knit, they commanded attention. They were clearly too large for the tinkerbell look-a-like.
"Just wine! Hm,, Arbor Mist?"
The huge old wooden door shuddered, dozens of bells and tinklers jangling as a tall, slim man entered. He looked like a catalog underwear model, smooth, defined. He looked at the two women, standing by the front glass counter and cash register, and swallowed hard. The guilty-looking man held the door open, and like a princess, in strode an average height woman, in her late twenties, with average brown hair and average looks in a white business dress and blazer. She clearly bore a more than average attitude, however. She didn't have a gun but was just as threatening- her kind usually had a lawyer
on speed dial.
"I'm looking for Amy, or Amerz." Amy recognized the man. He had come in and talked to her about a strange book his girlfriend had found, bound in leather and containing a map, and strange sigils. She had copied part of it and was researching it before she was given that Ditz Doll, and was sidetracked. Carla knew too well the man that had touched her glove, just after she handled that new oil, spending
all night with Wendy to change him back to himself after he transformed into the exact likeness of Carla.
"Hello, you must be Gia, I'm Amy. Ken brought me your book to research. Did my notes help?"
Gia put her hand on her cocked hip and snarled. She took a deep, dramatic breath and huffed.
"And I suppose that's all you did." Amy looked innocent, Carla looked ready to fight.
"Well yes Ma'am, that,,,"
"DON'T call me Ma'am like I'm old. He talks in his sleep! He says, `Amerz, Amy', and crap like that. He had the audacity of using as a lie, some story about being transformed by magic into your lesbian lover!" She shot Ken a death glance. "So now, you're going to tell me you have a lover and save him aren't you?"
Carla wrapped her arms around her short ex-lover, her hands secured around Amy's belly. Carla’s fingers remembered exactly where to touch, how to slide up the floating rib and rest on a sensitive spot for her ex- but now that spot on Amy grazed her new 40 D chest candy.
"You don't have to tell this biotch shit. Candy-ass needs her bottle and a nap, or her hair ripped out!" Amy grimaced at Carla's words. Getting the clue though, and wanting to save Ken from his psychotic fiancée, Amy leaned her hip against Carla’s thigh, just like she had done at the club most nights last year. Goosebumps rose all over her body, her new large aureolas wrinkling into taut sensitive nipple-buds. The surprisingly exhilarating feeling of Carla’s touch, and her nearly rabid defense against the snooty debutante, was intoxicating. ‘Last week’s change into a real life bimbo doll may have lingering effects,’ Amy thought with a warm shiver.
"Huh! At least I don't look like someone begging quarters by the underpass." She reached to put her arm around Ken, but found he had moved to the oak reading table.
"Everyone knows what you'd do for a quarter, skunt!"
Amy's right Doc Marten boot came down on Carla's soft black shoe. Carla grabbed her foot, sitting on the old wood floor silently.
"Gia, my relationship issues are not your concern, are they?"
The girlfriend flipped her long straight hair behind her ear. She looked long at her boyfriend, now standing by the jewelry counters.
"Well,,, after I tried reading one page of that book, and saw what happened to little Joy-Joy, I find I'm believing in your research, and in magic now." Ken looked up from the bracelets.
"That was our dog”, said Ken. “She read that page you pointed out, just like you said, but before she was finished with the magical incantation, Joy-Joy licked her hand." Gia had tears welling in her mascara-smeared eyes.
"It's clear you know what you're talking about, and Daddy has become interested, not in the magic in the book but the map to the temple and sacrificial treasure. We'd like to hire you and your um, team or company, whatever, to get Daddy the treasure and me the magic in the Necro-Archon."