If Only She Knew
by morpheus


It was late, and for the twenty-eighth consecutive night, Tom had fallen 
asleep in front of the TV. The volume was sufficiently loud that the 
sound of a window being forced open didn't cause him to stir. With great 
care, a feminine figure clad in a black spandex leotard crept inside, 
then closed the window with gloved hands. She turned to survey the area, 
and a smile parted her lips as she found Tom dead to the world. Just 
like Lynda said: asleep on the couch. Piece of cake, thought the 
intruder. 

She opened a small pack on her waist belt and pulled out a thick cotton 
pad and a brown glass bottle. She removed the cap and upended the 
container, soaking the cloth with its contents. A heavy, sweet odor 
tugged at her senses, and she quickly capped the bottle and returned it 
to the pouch. Stealthily, she approached Tom, coming to kneel at the 
sofa where he lay. 

She brought the pad up and held it close to his face, not touching him, 
but near enough that the fumes were swirling about. His nose wrinkled as 
he caught the pungent aroma, and he sniffed reflexively, inhaling more 
of the strong vapors. He turned suddenly away from the source of the 
smell, moving so quickly that the woman thought he might be waking up. 
In a panic, she pressed the damp cloth to his face, covering his mouth 
and nose. Tom's eyes instantly snapped open, widening in terror as he 
realized the nature of his dilemma. He tried to struggle, arms flailing 
in uncoordinated movement, but he couldn't resist the drug's influence. 
His arms fell limply to his sides and he slumped in defeat, eyelids 
fluttering closed as he sank into an anesthetic slumber. 

Satisfied that the chloroform had done its job, Amy withdrew the pad 
from his face and folded it before putting it away. She knew she would 
need it later. 

As she rose to her feet and walked to the front door of the apartment, 
she gave silent thanks to Karen. Without the nursing student's help and 
experience, she couldn't have attempted this. Heck, she wouldn't even 
have thought of it if Karen hadn't confided some of her family's 
activities to her. At first Amy was horrified at what she heard, but 
Karen assured her that nobody ever got hurt. And, besides...it was fun. 
Karen had proven that more than once. So when Lynda told Amy about her 
next-door-neighbor and how much she liked him, Amy's wheels started 
spinning. 

At the front door, Amy took a look through the peephole before opening 
the door. Lynda was waiting outside, looking a little agitated. Amy 
smiled to herself; Lynda would be completely relaxed before this night 
was over. 

Amy slid the chain off its latch, threw the deadbolt, and opened the 
door. Lynda came in pushing a wheelchair and Amy closed the door behind 
her. 

"I hope you know what you're doing, Amy," Lynda said with a slightly 
whiny tone as she saw Tom sleeping off the chloroform. "Are you sure 
this is such a good idea?" 

"Calm down, Lyn," smiled Amy reassuringly. "Look, he's sleeping like a 
baby. All we have to do is get him in the wheelchar and he'll be over at 
your place in no time." 

"Yeah, I know, but what if..." 

Amy cut her off with a sharp look. "If you'll just take it easy, 
everything will be fine. Now, let's get him in the chair and get back to 
your place." 

Lynda nodded and reached for Tom's knees; Amy took his shoulders and 
they managed to put him in the chair without a problem. Lynda pushed Tom 
over to the front door while Amy turned off the television and checked 
around to make sure there were no signs of their having been there. Then 
she opened the front door a crack and glanced outside. The coast was 
clear. Signaling silently for Lynda to follow, she stepped out and went 
to the front door of the adjacent apartment... Lynda's apartment. The 
door was unlocked and Amy opened it so Lynda could maneuver Tom inside. 

Once safely inside, Amy bolted the door and slid the chain, checking 
through the peephole one last time for any indication they had been 
seen. Everything was quiet. She smiled again to herself; the hard part 
was over. Now the fun would begin. 

They wheeled Tom into Lynda's bedroom and lifted him from the chair to 
the bed. Lynda already had fur-lined leather cuffs attached at the 
corners for Tom's wrists and ankles, but Amy had something in mind that 
would make them unnecessary. The girls stripped Tom naked and tossed his 
clothes aside. Lynda was about to put the cuffs on him when Amy stopped 
her. 

"You don't need those. I've got something much better," she smiled 
mysteriously. 

Lynda's eyes came up in a look of surprise. "Better? Like what?" 

"Like this," Amy replied, reaching for the duffle bag she'd brought over 
before breaking into Tom's apartment. She produced a silver metal 
cylinder about two feet long linked to a black rubber mask by a length 
of plastic tubing. She held it out to Lynda like it was a trophy. 

"What is it?" she asked, almost fearfully. (Amy liked that look; it 
meant she was in total control.) 

"It's anesthetic gas. It'll keep Tom sleeping peacefully while you play 
with him," she replied, her tone light and friendly. 

"Is it safe to use on him for extended periods?" Lynda's worry was 
replaced by a kind of hopefulness. She seemed open to the idea of 
gassing dear Tom. If only she knew... thought Amy, who smiled and said, 
"Of course, it's perfectly safe. I have a friend who uses it all the 
time. She gave some to me and I thought you might find it preferable to 
keeping him chained to the bed." 

Lynda's curiosity was piqued; she seemed to forget about Tom for a 
moment. "What does your friend use it for?" 

"Oh, she plays all kinds of sleepy games. Knocking out her boyfriend and 
having sex with him while he dozes away. Asking for help with her 
nursing studies and then slipping him something to put him to sleep. Her 
mom taught her everything; sometimes they play little tricks on her 
dad." Amy's tone was offhand, almost disinterested, but she was very 
turned on by what she was saying. She couldn't let Lynda know how 
aroused she was or her plan might fail. 

Lynda frowned. "It sounds pretty weird to me." But she continued to look 
at the tank of gas and Amy knew she would want to use it. 

But she affected an air of disappointment. "Oh, well, if you'd rather 
risk him waking up and pulling on the cuffs... hurting himself or 
getting away..." Amy turned and started to put the cylinder back into 
her duffle. 

"Wait! I didn't say I wouldn't try it," exclaimed Lynda hurriedly. 
"Let's see how it works." 

Amy looked over her shoulder. "Are you sure, Lyn? I mean, if it's too 
kinky for you..." 

Lynda was about to respond when Tom began to stir. Frantically, she 
cried, "Quick, bring it here!" 

Amy hopped over to the bed and sat next to Tom. Opening the valve and 
adjusting the gas flow, she placed the mask over his nose and mouth just 
as his eyes were opening. For a moment he was aware, his eyes turning to 
take in his surroundings with an air of detached interest. Then the gas 
filled his nostrils and his eyelids grew heavy as he drifted into 
helpless drowsiness. Amy slipped a strap over his head to keep the mask 
on him and fiddled with the concentration until she was satisfied that 
Tom would remain doped but sufficiently capable of performing. Then she 
looked up at Lynda. "He's all ready for you." 

Lynda's mouth opened in a predatory grin. "To-omm. Tommy boy." Tom's 
eyes flickered in Lynda's direction, half-lidded but seeing. Lynda 
glanced at Amy. "Will he remember any of this?" 

Amy shook her head. "Not with this mixture. He'll think he had a sexy 
dream about you, but it won't seem quite real." 

Lynda smiled wider. "Then I'd better videotape it." 

"Let me do it," Amy said. "You don't want to waste a second of this 
magic, do you?" she asked, her finger tapping the gas tank. 

"No, I don't. Thanks, Ames." Lynda looked back at Tom and began to 
undress. Amy withdrew to man the camcorder, which was mounted on a 
tripod in the corner. She peeked into the viewfinder and lined up the 
shot, centering the lens on Tom's naked, relaxed body, then widened the 
image slightly to include Lynda, who was down to her bra and panties. 
Pressing RECORD, Amy stepped away and reached into her fanny pack for 
the cotton pad and the chloroform. 

Lynda doffed her bra and slid her panties off her hips and down her 
legs, then crawled onto the bed, careful not to obscure the camera's 
view of the semi-conscious man. She reached for his penis and leaned 
over to take it into her mouth. Swirling her tongue around and over his 
ever-growing length, she was unaware of Amy approaching her from behind. 
Lynda continued licking and sucking Tom's penis while gently cupping his 
balls, drawing him to his full length. She stopped for a moment to 
admire his incredible tool and Amy took advantage of the opportunity to 
clamp the gauze, freshly soaked with chloroform, over Lynda's mouth and 
nose. 

Lynda squealed into the damp cloth and tried to claw at Amy, but her 
friend had anticipated this and she pinned Lynda's arms with her free 
arm. As the girls struggled --- Lynda to escape her friend's clutches 
and the chloroform's sleepy embrace, Amy to compel her friend to breathe 
the strong fumes and go to sleep --- Tom looked over at them, still 
drifting peacefully on his anesthetic cloud, not bothered at all by the 
display of physical conflict. 

As might be expected, Lynda was losing. The sweet aroma forced into her 
nostrils was causing flashes of color to burst behind her eyes. Her body 
seemed indifferent to her plight, no longer obeying her commands; her 
struggles grew languid, her muffled noises of protest gradually becoming 
moans of resignation, marking her inward breaths like a metronome that 
slowed a beat with each tick. Within moments, Lynda was on her way to 
dreamland, borne on the chloroform's heady vapor. Amy released her hold 
on the drugged girl, gently placing her on the bed next to Tom. 

Once Lynda was comfortable, Amy walked over to the duffle and produced a 
second rubber mask, identical to the one Tom was wearing. Returning to 
the bed, Amy connected it to the auxiliary valve on the tank and held 
the mask close to her face to gauge the flow of gas. A soft breath of 
chemical sleep brushed her cheek and gave her a second or two of 
pleasant dizziness; putting the mask over Lynda's nose and mouth, Amy 
took a deep breath of fresh air and chased the giddiness away. She 
smiled down at her best friend as she brought the strap over Lynda's 
head that would ensure the mask's placement, and began to strip off her 
leotard. 

Turning her attention to Tom, she was pleased to discover that he hadn't 
lost any of the firmness bestowed on him by Lynda. There was a tube of 
lubricant in the duffle bag, but Amy didn't need it. She had been wet 
from the moment she applied the chloroform-soaked pad to Tom's face. 
Straddling his erection, she lowered herself carefully until his entire 
length was inside her. As her pussy lips accepted him, the sensation 
caused a slight ripple in Tom's awareness and he seemed to know what was 
happening. 

She smiled down at him, her innocent, helpless lover --- I hope you 
dream of this often, she thought --- and began a slow rhythm of 
movement. Rising and falling, her hips rotating with each stroke, she 
methodically increased her tempo. She let the intensity build 
gradually...her movements becoming more and more frantic...gaining speed 
as waves of pleasure broke inside her, crashing over and through her, 
leaving her panting and spent. With the accumulated sexual tension 
released, Amy collapsed between the two sleepers. 

A trickle of moisture down the length of Tom's glistening, semi-erect 
penis caught her gaze and she realized that Tom's climax had immediately 
preceded hers. She sat up and took hold of his member, leaning forward 
to taste their mingled flavors. In the process of licking his penis 
clean, Tom had a second orgasm, an eruption of surprising force 
considering his helpless condition. Amy was pleased to see him enjoying 
her caresses --- any pleasure she gave him was only a fraction of what 
his unwitting presence had created in her. She finished up and gave his 
penis a gentle 'good-night' kiss. Now it was Lynda's turn. 

While Amy was making love to Tom, Lynda had drifted to a semi-conscious 
state, buoyed by the gas' effect. She didn't seem aware of theactivity 
happening around her; she was too busy enjoying the floatingsensation 
and dreaminess all around. When Amy turned to see how she was doing, 
Lynda's half-lidded gaze seemed focused on a colorful print hanging on 
the wall. To Lynda, the images had a life of their own, and they danced 
and spun for her amusement. At Amy's touch, she turned slowly to look at 
her friend, a glimmer of recognition in her eyes above the mask. Amy 
smiled warmly down at her --- here's a dream for you to keep, she 
thought --- and positioned herself so her head rested between Lynda's 
legs, gently nibbling on her warm, damp folds. 

A soft groan, muffled by the rubbery mask, was all the reaction Lynda 
could make as Amy continued to kiss and lick her sweet, fragrant pussy. 
Amy's tongue slithered over and around her friend's clit, darting out to 
flick it gently, again and again and again. At some point, Lynda reached 
her pleasure threshold and exploded in a torrent of hot wetness, 
flooding Amy's mouth with her juices. Amy gave her sleepy friend a 
thorough tongue bath, until every drop of Lynda's cream was gone. 

Rising slowly from between Lynda's legs, Amy glanced up to see what her 
reaction was...and found her once again gazing at the picture on the 
wall. She wondered if Lynda would come to associate the image of a field 
of brightly-colored wildflowers with the intense pleasure she had felt. 

Looking over at Tom, she was pleased to see him fast asleep, the soft 
rasp of his breathing barely audible over the hiss of the gas. He'd been 
exposed long enough to guarantee no true memory of this night would 
remain; only a lingering dream-image that might visit him on nights to 
come. 

Lynda hadn't yet breathed enough to obscure the night's events in dream-
light, so Amy left her with the tank as she took Tom home in the 
wheelchair. She had some difficulty moving him back to the couch by 
herself, but finally managed to put him in the same position in which 
she had found him. She pushed the empty wheelchair back to Lynda's 
apartment, then returned to lock Tom's door from the inside. Before 
leaving through the window, Amy turned the TV back on, lowering the 
volume to a soft whisper so as not to disturb him from his gas-induced 
slumber. 

Back in Lynda's bedroom, she rewound the videotape and put it in the 
duffle with the mask that Tom wore. She waited another hour before 
removing Lynda's mask and putting the tank away, long enough to ensure 
that nothing but a hazy dream-image would remain. Tomorrow she would 
call Lynda and apologize for having fallen asleep instead of coming 
over. Lynda would probably say, "That's okay, I went to sleep early, 
too. I don't even remember going to bed..." 

Amy gathered her equipment, locked Lynda's apartment with her key and 
walked to her car, pushing the folded wheelchair ahead of her. She 
couldn't wait to watch the video...or to show it to Karen. As she drove 
home, she glanced over at the duffle bag sitting in the passenger-side 
floorboard and gleefully considered its contents. This is the stuff that 
dreams are made of... 

The End