Some time ago I decided to mix my love for pantyhose and hypnosis into one strange tale. This one is a bit long and takes a while to get to the action, so here's a fragment:
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The moan vibrated again, penetrating everything that was solid and was not. Lorena’s lips quivered and then parted. Her fingers began to tremble. Her breathing deepened and her heartbeat increased. Her whole body suddenly reacted to the sound of the moan, which seemed to speak out to her. Her hazy mind comprehended it as a voice asking a simple yet earth-shifting question, but it was nothing of the sorts. So beyond their minds it was. Whatever it was that spoke to Lorena, it prompted her to speak. Her voice was a distant whisper; every syllable was prolonged as if it took years for the information to reach her mouth. “Pantyhose...” Her mouth moved slowly. “Pantyhose...” She repeated.

The word felt foreign, strange, and even surreal. The still thinking part of their brains, that little speck of electricity and chemistry that made thoughts possible was surprised and quizzical. Why did I say that? Why that word? Why!?

The box moaned again.

Rupert and Lorena shuddered, their eyes rolling into their heads. Rupert’s shoulders slump and his chin touches his chest while Lorena starts to move, with wobbling steps, towards the box. He catches a glimpse of her body; shoulders slumped and head lolling, before everything went black for him.

Two steps and Lorena’s shins touched the table’s border. She bent at the waist and managed to stick her hand inside the box.

Had she been aware of anything, she would’ve screamed and then moaned. Her fingers touched something soft and silky that made her shiver all over; her skin goosepimple; and a sticky, musky-smelling liquid dribble down her thighs.

Her hand wrapped around something that seemed to float in space. She felt a shiver crawling up her arm and gasped slightly before pulling her hand out of the box.

It was the silkiest thing her hand had ever touched, smooth and soft. Every thread was perfect on its own, a thin line of string crafted by mystic spiders. Lorena pulled her hand out of the box and stared at something of such a deep black that it could’ve easily swallowed her whole.

Her hands began to stroke the pantyhose, each caress feeding the growing smile on her face. Each time her skin stroked the nylon, her body straightened, her eyes recovered some of their true colour yet they remained lost to the blackness of the pantyhose.

Rupert began to whisper something, his voice too distant and her mind too distracted to really care. Far-off echoes(,) voice-like, scratching sounds filled his emptied mind. His lips quiver, his tongue smacks against his teeth, saliva pools under his tongue, and air moves out of his lungs like water through a net. His voice soon echoes, repeating the word Lorena had been, in a way, forced to say: “Pantyhose... pantyhose...” He droned as his feet began to move under him.

Imitating Lorena, Rupert bends at the waist and slowly puts his hand inside the steaming, colour-vomiting box. Still echoing the word, Rupert wrapped his hand around something suspended in space; it was soft and silky and smooth. Suddenly his whole body felt like ice cream under the sun—slowly melting and soon to be useless. Sighing, Rupert pulled his hand out of the box and stared at a pair of pantyhose similar to Lorena’s.

Suddenly, the two feel nothing.

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If you wish to read more, here's the whole story: http://mcstories.com/MoonlightKeyForARedBox/index.html

Excuse me for any grammatical horrors - I made the terrible mistake of not sending this story to my editor.

Do send some feedback my way, friends.

- Mr. Scade