Haxsaw's Vacation and the fun he got into while there with Mark Andrew Runnells

The following is a drawn out, false account of my vacation time in the state of Maine. I went overseas, back home. I telephoned ahead and even met Mark Andrew Runnells. I present what we did, on our one brief time together. Please let me know what you thought of it?

The University of Maine had many houses on the campus for sorority and fraternities. As the kids were gone on vacation, summer classes were in swing. Those kids who found it cumbersome to travel back stayed on campus. It was as if paying rental fees yet kept you close to the summer classes. Even had you not been taking summer classes you would work a part-time job, starting regular classes in the fall. The sorority and frat houses rented spaces to kids, as a means to earn more income, also.
It was Friday night and a taxi cab dropped me off. I was on the gravel covered, flat yard of Delta-Delta Uum. I was early, as was expected. I checked my watch. The tires to the taxi cab crackled as it eased out of the yard and accelerated unto Stillwater Avenue again. Standing patiently along this rarely traveled roadway a rumbling started. A man in leather came wheeling in, riding a heavy motorcycle. It was Mark.
The roadway was straight. It featured groomed sidewalks and each yard bordering it held well manicured lawns. It was a pleasant summer sight. The biker came up close and shut down his machine. He took off his large black helmet.
"Mark Andrew Runnells! How are you!" I yelled as a greeting. We exchanged grins. I mostly talked. Mark later parked his machine, a 1,000 c.c. Harley Davidson Fat Boy, over to the side of the building. I waited by the entrance to the house. Mark was in a black leather jacket and black leather chaffs over his blue jeans. He key opened a saddle bag on the motor bike. Pulling out a trail of chain he then chained the motorcycle frame to a nearby tree. I just watched.
Some college guys met us out on the front entrance way. I was already in a suit and tie. The planned performance was to start in ten more minutes. We were told many were in their first floor, main hall. It was understood and would be announced under no condition would anyone charge the stage. Mark folded his arms over his chest and grunted.
The hypnotic, "anything goes wacky," show was already an advertised event for this locale. The frat boys were paying and the sorority girls were participating. Money to match the fees was to be donated to a local area soup kitchen. The area soup kitchen fed homeless people. I was ready. So was Mark.
I had eight girls on stage. I went through my standard program. A D.V.D player was rolling, at low volume, repetitive music featuring the old, worn use of the drum beat. Lights in the main hall were turned low. Two table lamps were at each side of this make shift stage area I was at. While on with each girl I asked questions. After the expected giggles and nervous wiggling, the talks I had with each helped them to calm much.
I even pointed out no matter what, they were safe, Mark would see to it. Mark was at the side, nodding his head to each girl. Somehow, this helped each calm more. I had each served a small cup of ginger ale. A frat boy there had ginger ale poured in Dixie cups. He politely served each girl, as directed.
I went through the next phase. After about seven minutes they were all seated yet out like lights, as it would be. I had one girl stand up.
"What is your name?" I asked. She was Katherine. She was a former high school cheerleader and had many, many friends. As she was open and susceptible I asked her what she thought of herself. As it would be she thought she was very, very good looking, felt pity for girls who were not good looking and was thankful she was blessed the way she was. After longer talks I discovered she figured any guy to date her was also lucky. I figured I would change her attitude.
To the roar of the guys seated Katherine was soon stripped naked. One guy in the gathering, a drunk, charged forward to get a "Piece of that!" It was then Mark Andrew Runnells, facing the girl by me, brought his arms up, straight, and leaned his body weight back with force. The college drunk fell to the floor and the crowd was suddenly silent, despite the good looking naked girl on the stage. I calmly reminded them we had an agreement and then continued. The loud college student, very sore, sat back down again. From here on in the young frat boys were well behaved.
I did what was found on some of my files at warpmymind.com. After the dear girl opened her eyes, finding the crowd of onlookers she clutched herself. I then told her her feet were not moving and her arms were very, very heavy. As Katherine shrunk away, face turning red, trying to at least place one leg in front of the other, she struggled to raise a hand to her breasts. I then told her if she did as I said the shame would end. I also reminded her she was like everyone else. Convincing her a bolt of lightening would strike her, as in my "Thunder Struck," file at warpmymind, I snapped my fingers.
Katherine's head jerked back. Her eyes were closed and her face expressionless. Her nude body was erect and at attention. Her arms merely dangled. With a head tilted back her mouth was with parted lips. I then presented her. Some frat boys asked permission as they then took photos. I reminded them though it was okay to post them as a screen saver on their computer if any got on the Internet I would report them to The University Administration, the girl's mom's and dad's and make a report for the local newspaper. Many of the frat boys stopped taking photos and sat again. I imagine they were actually horrified if word got out and the fraternity organization they belonged to sued them instead, for pulling this show.
Mark came behind me, after the viewing was done. He stood before Katherine, holding up a white bed sheet. I snapped a finger, unlocking Katherine. After she dressed she went to the seating with those gathered. I made sure she forgot everything! Uh... Haxsaw does not want to be sued!
I had five other girls act as children at a playground. I had times they would laugh, fight over toys and even cry. It was at times mildly amusing to watch the antics played out.
The last two girls were treated from various different accounts from the "bound" series of files. I would drop several one hundred dollar bills and command the two girls to take them. As they struggled and shook, not one could lift from her seat. I ended it with the "pet" commands. Did I want these two young ladies as my French Maids?
Does a duck like water?
In reality... I implanted an urge so they would seek to be hypnotized many times. The two young ladies were all over me! They would hold my hand, lean against my frame, even kiss me. I would ask each one what they thought of me. Each girl gave replies relating to how I was like a man they had never met. As the crowd softly laughed I played it out, asking each if they would like being my pet forever? How about going home with me? "I can pack you in my suitcase." Shortly after this part, along with members gathered snapping more photos, I ended the little show.
While everyone was now seated I made a quick announcement, snapped my fingers and told everyone to, "Sleep for me now!" That worked just smooth. I also reminded everyone to forget I was ever there. I further told them I had never arrived and no one had even invited me. Everyone present was sleeping fine. Mark was carrying tables across the floor. Later, having found a twelve pack of Budweiser in the refrigerator at a back room, he opened all the cans. Most he half emptied down the sink there. Out at the tables before the crowd at the Delta Delta Uum Mark sloppily placed cans of Bud at many various areas of the table. I was back from him, making sure the D.V.D. containing subliminal messages was still playing. I had the frat house's player set on CONTINUOUS PLAY option. Turning, Mark spilled some beer on the floor. Mark was heading for the exit. He snatched up his helmet from a nearby chair. I dashed out as quickly as my old frame would allow me.
Mark had the chain back in the duffle bag. He grunted and rolled his machine out across, back on the gravel surface. It was dusk. It brought enough shadows to conceal our figures. Throwing his muscular frame over the low cut seat, he kick started the motor bike. Had that machine ever kicked back? God forbid if it ever did! I could see Mark Andrew Runnells was wearing his usual low cut, steel shank, black leather boots. I could feel a weak spot, deep in my gut. The Harley machine easily fired over slowly on the first kick. I climbed on. He waited a long time, warming it up, carefully. He revved it gently and shifted. We rode out.

I spent a two week vacation in Bar Harbor, there in Maine. Beautiful place! I never saw Mark again while I was there. I did check his Facebook account. Somehow... he had the photo of the thunderstruck girl. As I studied this revelation from my laptop; my last day in my motel room, I grinned.