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Message-ID: <32532asstr$1000606203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Wiseguy" <wiseguy@screw.u.spammers.com>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 15 Sep 2001 17:38:57 PDT
Subject: {ASSM} Business Class [1/3] {Wiseguy} (MF hyp rom cons dream)
Date: Sat, 15 Sep 2001 22:10:03 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Content Codes -- this story contains:

MF            Heterosexual sex between an adult male and an adult female
HYP          Hypnoerotica (consentual use of hypnosis to enhance sexual
pleasure)
ROM         Romance (consentual sex based on the characters' love for one
another)
CONS       Consentual (all sex in the story is fully consentual)
DREAM    Some of the sex in the story occurs in a dream/fantasy rather than
in reality

-----------------------------------------



NOTICE:  This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual 
activity between consenting adults.  If you are not of legal age 
to read such material, or if you find it offensive, then stop 
reading now.

This story is (c) Copyright 2001 by Wiseguy and may not be 
reposted on any for-profit system.  Posting on a noncommercial 
site is normally okay, but check with me first and do not alter 
the story in any way.

The full text of this and all Wiseguy stories is available for 
download (text or PDF) or for on-line viewing (HTTP) at my web 
site,  http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Wiseguy/www.

I welcome all comments from readers (wiseguy35@hotmail.com).




Business Class

(c) Copyright 2001 by Wiseguy


Inspired by the real-life erotic hypnosis book _Look 
Into My Eyes_ by Peter Masters.



It was her smile that first drew his attention -- a 
subtle, secret smile that showed more in her eyes than 
on her lips.  When the smile was followed immediately 
by a furtive glance in his direction, he pretended not 
to notice.

But he was hooked.  He had to know what she was 
reading.

He shifted his laptop slightly on the table in front 
of him, the better to covertly observe the woman 
across the aisle.  She seemed to be of medium height 
and slender -- one might even say slight -- build.  
Her hair was dark brown, long and curvy but carefully 
arranged to frame an attractive, woman-next-door face.  

She was reading what looked like a soft cover 
textbook.  It was fairly thin, maybe 150 pages.  A 
paper jacket, of the kind school children make from 
grocery bags, concealed the cover.  She studied it 
intently, every now and again letting that hint of a 
smile creep across her face and then catching herself. 

A door opened and closed behind him.  She looked up at 
the sound; his eyes darted back to his laptop screen, 
hoping she hadn't caught him studying her.  In his 
peripheral vision he saw her close the book, marking 
her place with the inside flap of the homemade book 
jacket, and lay it on the seat beside her.

"Your ticket, please?"

She gave a genuine smile to the conductor, who punched 
her ticket and returned the stub.  "The caf  car is 
the next one up," the conductor explained.  "Non-
alcoholic beverages are complimentary for business 
class passengers; just show him your ticket stub."

"Thank you," she said sweetly.  Her voice was a little 
rough -- she'd be taking advantage of that offer soon, 
her observer guessed.   

Sure enough, a few moments later she stood up and 
headed toward the caf  car.  Her eyes met his for just 
a moment as she passed, then moved on innocently.  The 
conductor followed, having finished his job for the 
time being.

His curiosity would permit no further delays; with a 
quick peek at the other passengers, he casually stood 
up and eased across the aisle.  He leaned over the 
woman's seat, gently opened the book to the spot she'd 
marked, and read the title from the top margin of the 
page:

EROTIC HYPNOSIS:  A Beginner's Guide 
by Eric Milton.  

His book.

His head dropped with a sigh that was half amusement, 
half disbelief.  Fate laughs at probabilities, he 
thought to himself.  He put the book down carefully, 
making sure to leave it exactly as he'd found it, and 
returned to his seat.

He was back in his seat, staring into his laptop 
screen, when she passed him again in a whish of navy 
blue cloth.  He noted the Diet Sprite in her hand, 
already open and sweating.  She settled back into her 
seat with her book, and he made a serious effort to 
apply himself to his work.

It had been almost a year since he'd finished the 
first draft of the book his traveling companion was 
now reading, an entry-level guide to sexual hypnosis.  
Sales had exceeded expectations enough that his New 
York publishing house had just agreed to pay him an 
advance for the sequel.  Which means, he scolded 
himself as he forced his gaze back from the reader's 
legs to the unfinished chapter of that sequel on his 
computer screen, that you'd better get your mind back 
on business!

His hands hovered over the keyboard for a moment, 
waiting.  His brain responded, and the words began to 
flow.  

  Fantasy #4:  Sex at Sea

  This fantasy may be particularly effective during a 
  summer holiday at the beach, or by the pool, 
  especially if your partner is already in a bathing 
  suit or less.  Place your partner in trance and deepen 
  as much as you can -- the deeper the trance, the more 
  vivid the fantasy will be for her.

  (Spoken to the subject)
  We're on vacation in the Caribbean, just the two of 
  us.  We've rented a boat for the afternoon, and are 
  cruising in a secluded cove.  You feel the sun warming 
  you as you lie out on the deck in your skimpiest 
  swimsuit.  You have plenty of sunscreen on, so you 
  don't have to worry about burning, and your favorite 
  sunglasses are protecting your eyes from the glare.

  The gentle thrumming of the boat's engine is soothing 
  to you as you lie there on the deck.  The sun's rays 
  are warm, so warm that even in your skimpiest swimsuit 
  you can feel tiny beads of sweat starting to form 
  underneath your suit.  (Pause for a few moments to let 
  the feelings sink in.) 

  Still you lie there, enjoying the feel of the sun on 
  your bare skin, but getting warmer and warmer.  You 
  decide to take off your swimsuit because it's just too 
  warm to be wearing it.  Slowly, easily, using the 
  least amount of energy necessary, you take off your 
  swimsuit and leave it lying on the floor next to you.  
  Your skin can breathe now, and it feels so much better 
  now that it's all exposed to the sea air and sunshine.  
  (Again, pause a few moments to let her enjoy the 
  sensation.)


His eyes stole another glance across the aisle:  the 
woman sat upright, legs crossed, holding the book 
close to her face.  Her eyes scanned the pages in 
front of them slowly and methodically while her lower 
lip seemed to recede into her mouth.  Between pages, 
her left hand toyed idly with the top button on her 
blouse.  Her visage merged with his thought stream 
until the mental picture in his mind was of her lying 
naked on the bow of a sailboat.  His cock tingled and 
stiffened as the fantasy formed in his mind and 
energized his fingers.


  As you lie there in the nude, so comfortable, you 
  realize that there are parts of your body that don't 
  have sun block on them -- the parts that were covered 
  by your swimsuit.  You certainly don't want sunburn on 
  those sensitive parts;  you pick up your bottle of sun 
  block and squeeze a generous amount of it onto your 
  hand.  It feels cool against the palm of your hand.  
  Now, using your hand, you wipe the lotion onto your 
  breasts, working it in to make sure every exposed part 
  of your breasts is protected.  As you rub the lotion 
  in, you find yourself enjoying the sensation of your 
  hand caressing yourself, sliding so smoothly over your 
  soft skin.  Your nipples become erect, and you play 
  with them as you rub the lotion into them, enjoying 
  the arousing feelings you get when your fingers touch 
  them.  You are feeling very sexy and aroused now, and 
  it feels very good to indulge yourself.  (Another 
  pause.  Depending on her trance depth, your partner 
  may begin caressing herself as the fantasy plays out 
  in her mind.)

  Now you remember that your crotch is also exposed to 
  the sun.  You apply some more lotion to your fingers, 
  and with a smooth, easy motion you begin spreading 
  that lotion over your bikini area.  You start with 
  your mound, letting your fingers run easily through 
  your pubic hair as you spread the lotion over the skin 
  beneath.  You open your legs slightly and slide your 
  fingers between your thighs.  As you rub the lotion up 
  and down over your slit, your finger accidentally 
  brushes your clit and a sudden wave of pleasure rushes 
  over you.  You caress yourself more, and soon you feel 
  much more wetness in your center than just the lotion.  
  You slip a finger inside your vagina and fantasize 
  that you are having sex with me, letting your finger 
  stand in for my penis.  It slides in and out, and you 
  feel a growing sexual arousal, an urgent need that 
  must be satisfied.

  You hear a sound and sense a shadow falling over you.  
  Your eyes open and you see me standing over you, 
  watching you fondle yourself.  You can see by the 
  bulge in my swim trunks that I am very aroused.  I 
  push my trunks down, and seeing the size of my 
  erection gets you even more aroused than you already 
  are because you know that I want you.
  
  You don't resist as I spread your legs apart and 
  settle down between them.  You take my penis in your 
  hand and guide it into your vagina.  It feels so good 
  as I penetrate you, filling you up and pressing 
  against all the sensitive spots inside you.  You feel 
  your hips moving up and down on their own, working my 
  length in and out, and bringing you closer and closer 
  to orgasm.


"Oh, shit!"

She hadn't said it loudly, but the sudden outburst was 
enough to break his concentration.  He looked up to 
see her kneeling on her seat, leaning over the one 
beside her, a grimace on her face.  She fumbled with 
something unseen for a moment, then hustled up the 
aisle toward the caf  car again.  The dripping wet 
napkin and empty can in her hands told the story.

She returned with the conductor, who carried an 
oversized sponge.  "It's not a problem," he assured 
her as he dabbed at the seat and floor.  "All the 
fabrics are treated.  In half an hour you won't be 
able to tell anything happened."

"I'm really sorry," the lady replied.  "I didn't 
realize it was that close to the edge."

The conductor's friendly smile didn't waver.  "Not to 
worry, ma'am.  It happens a lot."  He continued 
dabbing at the spill while the lady passenger fretted 
over the mess.  

The writer watched from his seat, then on an impulse 
slid out and walked through to the caf  car.  A simple 
snack bar took up most of the space; the rest was 
dotted with round tables and stools, all of which were 
bolted to the floor.  The snack bar attendant greeted 
his new customer with a friendly, professional smile.  
"How can I help you, sir?"

"Root beer and a Diet Sprite."  The writer held up his 
Business Class ticket stub. 

The attendant nodded and place two ice-filled plastic 
cups and two cans of soda on the counter.  "Anything 
else?"

"This'll do for now."  With an answering smile of his 
own, the writer gathered his drinks and returned to 
the business class car.  He set the drinks down on the 
table by his laptop and, with a tentative clearing of 
his throat, addressed the lady in the aisle.  "Excuse 
me."  When she didn't respond, he reached out a 
forefinger and touched her elbow.  "Excuse me," he 
repeated.

Her head turned at his touch, her eyes darting first 
to the intruding finger, then to his face.  

"There's plenty of space over here," he offered, 
pointing to the table where his laptop sat.  "The 
table is level, too.  Why don't you join me?"

He could see the doubt passing over her face.  He put 
on his best innocuous smile and lifted the new Diet 
Sprite he'd bought.  "See?  I've even got a new drink 
for you -- you wouldn't want that to go to waste, 
would you?"

The smile worked -- she broke into one of her own, 
chuckling slightly.  "I suppose not," she agreed.  
"But I hope that laptop is insured against moisture 
damage."

"I'm willing to risk it.  My name is Eric, by the 
way."  He put down the soda can and extended his hand.  

Her handshake was well-practiced:  firm and 
businesslike, but not so much so that an insecure man 
might feel challenged.  "I'm Patty," she replied.  

"Welcome to the big table, Patty."  He winked at her 
and then slid back into his seat, moving the laptop 
closer to give her as much room as possible.  

Patty took the seat diagonally across the conference 
table from him, opened her soda and poured some into 
the plastic cup.  "This is much nicer than the fold-up 
tray," she said, running a hand over the mini 
conference table between them. 

Eric nodded.  "Most business class cars have one of 
these tables at each end; I try to sit at one whenever 
I can.  The extra elbow room is always nice, and my 
drink doesn't slide off the edge."

"That's exactly what happened to me," Patty said.  "I 
set the cup down in the middle of the tray, and the 
next thing I knew it was face down on the seat."

"Is this your first train trip?"

"Yes," she answered, her eyebrows rising.  "How'd you 
guess?"

He shrugged innocently.  "Just a hunch."

"I usually fly to DC on the shuttle," she offered, 
"but with all the papers talking about a possible 
strike this week, I didn't want to get stranded."

"A smart move.  I take the train for economy -- a 
business class train ticket costs a lot less than 
flying coach, but look at the service and the 
amenities.  I can eat or drink what I want to, when I 
want to; I can get up and walk around without being in 
anyone's way; I can plug my laptop into the AC outlet 
right here and write for the whole trip if I want to.  
What airline can match that?"

"So you're a writer?"

He paused a moment to admire the smooth movement of 
her throat as she swallowed some more Sprite.  "Yes," 
he confirmed, feeling the small rush of pride that 
usually came from answering that question.  Go ahead, 
a little voice inside of him urged.  Tell her.  He 
thought about how to say it, how she might react -- 
after all, she clearly didn't want people to see that 
she was reading an erotic hypnosis book.  He needed to 
be careful.

The moment passed.  "That's nice," she said politely.  
"I'm a technical trainer; I teach people to use my 
company's software."

"That must be interesting," he replied, feeling his 
chance slipping away.

She smiled and opened her book.  "It has its moments," 
she remarked, and then turned her attention to the 
book. 

Eric watched her for as long as courtesy would allow, 
then took the hint and addressed his laptop again.  
The image of Patty, naked and writhing on the deck of 
the boat, came again to the front of his mind and he 
resumed his writing.

  You don't resist as I spread your legs apart and 
  settle down between them.  You take my penis in your 
  hand and guide it into your vagina.  It feels so good 
  as I penetrate you, filling you up and pressing 
  against all the sensitive spots inside you.  You feel 
  your hips moving up and down on their own, working my 
  length in and out, and bringing you closer and closer 
  to orgasm.
 
  You sense my penis quivering slightly and you squeeze 
  down with your pelvic muscles, doubling the erotic 
  sensations for both of us.  The pleasure pulses 
  through your entire body; you are only seconds away 
  from a wonderful orgasm.  You look up into my face and 
  see my eyes roll upwards, and you know that I am 
  coming right now inside you.  It pleases you to know 
  you've made me come, and that knowledge triggers your 
  orgasm.  

  (Watch for the physical signs of orgasm before 
  continuing.)  The pleasure sweeps over you as you 
  come, so that you feel it in every part of your body 
  all at the same time.  The orgasm lasts as long as you 
  want it to last; it is completely satisfying and 
  leaves you with a wonderful, happy feeling all over.  
  (Repeat the last line every few seconds until her 
  climax appears to be over.)

  And now, you are no longer on the deck of a rented 
  boat.  You are back (state your real location) with 
  me, where we have just shared a nice hypnotic fantasy.  
  When I count to three you will awaken, feeling 
  contented and peaceful.  (Conclude with a three count 
  and make sure she is fully awake.)


Eric stopped and saved his work.  The erotic charge 
hung over him like static electricity; he could feel 
it everywhere from his tingling scalp to his throbbing 
cock.  His toes curled and straightened nervously 
inside his shoes.  It was normal for him to get worked 
up writing these fantasies, but doing it with a 
specific person in mind -- a person who was sitting 
not three feet away, totally oblivious to it -- had 
added a whole new dimension.

Patty, meanwhile, seemed to be enjoying her book.  Her 
skin was flushed, her nostrils flared, and every few 
moments her hips would shift slightly on their own in 
a subtle, unconscious rhythm.  

Above their heads the PA system clicked.  "We will be 
arriving in Philadelphia in about 3 minutes," a 
nondescript voice announced.  "Passengers leaving the 
train in Philadelphia, please check around your seats 
now and gather your personal belongings.  Also, please 
use caution when exiting as there will be a slight gap 
between the doorway of the train and the platform."

Patty glanced briefly up the aisle at the 
announcement, then continued with her reading.  Eric 
watched out of the corner of his eye, wondering.  What 
fantasy was she reading?  What lover was she picturing 
in her mind?

The train lurched slightly on the way into the 
Philadelphia station.  Patty felt the movement, 
snapped the book shut and hid it in her lap under the 
table.  She sat upright as a few passengers filed out 
past her.  There was only a short delay before the 
train moved on, starting out slowly and picking up 
speed once clear of the station.

Eric looked at Patty and smiled.  "I think the coast 
is clear now," he remarked.  

She blushed a little.  "Was I that obvious?"

"It's okay," he joked.  "Lots of professional women 
read romance novels."

"Not this one," she replied, shaking her head slowly.  
"Not today, anyway."

Eric played along, looking more closely at the paper-
covered book.  "It's too small to be hiding a nudie 
magazine," he mused.  "It must be some kind of 
perverted sex manual."

"No."  Patty tensed up immediately and withdrew into 
her seat.  The sparkle faded from her eyes and was 
replaced by a tense wariness.  

For a moment, Eric feared she would get up and leave.  
"I'm sorry," he said quickly.  "I was way out of line.  
I get a little too flippant for my own good 
sometimes."  He watched Patty's eyes anxiously, and 
was relieved to see her relax a little bit.  "Let me 
make it up to you," he suggested.  "How would you like 
to see the book I'm working on right now?"

Patty blinked.  "You mean, the one you're still 
writing?"

"The very one.  Usually I'd rather have root canal 
than show someone a rough draft.  But I owe you 
something for that last crack, and I have a feeling 
you might like this.  Are you interested?"

Patty searched his eyes for a moment, considering.  
"Okay.  But you really don't have to."

Eric smiled, and was pleased to see her smile back.  
"Maybe not, but I'd like to anyway.  Here you go."  He 
pulled up the file with the book's title page, turned 
the machine around to face his companion, and scooted 
back to get a good look at her face.

Patty tilted the screen to improve her viewing angle 
and saw the title page:  

   EROTIC HYPNOSIS:  Tips, Tricks, and Fantasies
	by Eric Milton

He was not disappointed.  Patty's jaw dropped and her 
eyes opened wide.  The book slipped out of her hand 
and hit the floor near her feet, but Patty didn't move 
-- she simply stared at the title on the screen.

"It's a sequel, sort of," Eric explained haltingly.  
"For people who've finished the first book.  It'll 
have some new inductions, suggestions for cool 
posthypnotic suggestions that lovers can use, and 
ideas on how to create more vivid fantasies.  I'm also 
going to include a companion CD with some recorded 
goodies."

Patty looked at the laptop without reading while Eric 
mentally crossed his fingers and waited for her 
reaction.  "You knew," she finally said, in the voice 
of a child caught in a lie.  "How did you know?"

Now it was his turn to blush a bit.  "Curiosity," he 
explained.  "It's one of my vices.  When I first saw 
you sitting over there, you were clearly absorbed in 
what you were reading; I had to know what it was.  So 
when you went to the caf  car for a drink, I peeked.  
And boy, was I surprised."

"Is that why you invited me over here?" she asked 
skeptically.  "So you could play 'I Know Your Secret' 
with me?"

"No no no no no," he protested.  "Well, okay, maybe.  
But not just for that.  Sure, I wanted to tell you 
that I wrote the book you're reading, and maybe even 
find out how you like it.  I mean, I've never met 
anyone who's read it before -- anyone outside the 
publishing staff, anyway, and the couple of friends 
who looked at the proofs.  You look like an 
interesting person, and I just thought it would be 
cool to meet you even before I saw what you were 
reading." 

Patty saw the anxiety in his face and smiled, relaxing 
a little.  "How do I know you're really Eric Milton?" 
she teased.  "You could have made up that cover page 
while I was reading."

Eric saw the smile and the slight twinkle in her eye, 
and a wave of relief swept through him.  "You're 
playing with me now.  Okay, fine -- ask me a question 
about the book."

Patty bent over and retrieved the fallen book.  "All 
right.  What's on page 83?"

"You're kidding me -- how am I supposed to remember 
one page, by number?  At least tell me what chapter 
it's in."

She let him sweat for a second before agreeing.  "Fair 
enough.  It's in Chapter 5, and it's the third page in 
the chapter."

Eric frowned.  "You're determined to make this 
difficult, aren't you?"

Her smile grew broader.  "You started this, and you 
admitted peeking."

He chuckled and shook his head.  "So be it.  Let's 
see, the fifth chapter would be ..." He ticked off the 
chapters in his memory.  "Posthypnotic Suggestions.  
It starts out talking about what a posthypnotic 
suggestion is and what kinds of things are possible.  
There are a couple of anecdotes about suggestions that 
will and won't work.  By the third page, you should be 
into the Do and Don't list for effective suggestions."

"So far, so good," Patty confirmed, looking into the 
book.  "What are some of the items on the Do list?"

"Do be specific:  use precise language, and don't 
leave out any detail, like opening the eyes.  Do 
repeat the suggestion several times, and make sure it 
is okay with the person.  Do make sure the suggestion 
has definite limits and parameters to avoid unintended 
results.  And do cancel every suggestion that isn't 
meant to be permanent.  Convinced?"

"Convinced."  She snapped the book shut and laid it on 
the table.  Her eyes met his and paused there for a 
long moment.  "Now what do we do?"

Eric made an exaggerated gulp.  "Well, I suppose you 
could tell me what you think of the book."

"I haven't finished it yet."  A faint smile hovered 
over her lips.

"But you must have some impression."

Seeing his anxious look, she sighed and let the smile 
show through.  "I've read my share of hypnosis books -
- at least six or seven, ranging from Jung to Hypnosis 
for Dummies.  Some of them are so simple and 
generalized that all they really seem intended to do 
is send people to a professional with a few less 
questions to ask.  Others are so full of jargon that 
you have to be a shrink to understand them.  Yours is 
the first one that's struck me as something normal 
people can use."

"Thank you," he said.  "I write from experience.  
Everything in that book is something I've done in real 
life -- most of them several times."  He winked and 
added, "Research is important, you know."

She laughed lightly.  "I'm sure it must be."

"Have you tried anything from the book yet?"

"Oh, no," she said, shaking her head gently.  "I don't 
even know if I can be hypnotized."

Eric's eyebrows rose in surprise.  "All that reading, 
and you've never actually tried it?"

"Nope," she confirmed.  "I did try self-hypnosis, just 
to see what it was like.  I put a little red dot on 
the ceiling above my bed and stared at it while I told 
myself to relax."

"And?"

She shrugged.  "I relaxed, all right -- right to 
sleep."

Eric looked around the car:  there were about eight 
other passengers, most of them toward the back end of 
the car, all of them either engrossed in a book, 
staring into a laptop, or sleeping.  "Would you like 
to try again?"

She thought about it for a moment.  "You mean here?  
Now?  Can you do that?"

Eric nodded reassuringly.  "Yes, here and now.  I've 
worked with people under worse conditions than a 
moving train; if you really want to experience a 
trance, I can get you there."

Her eyes focused on a point in space while she 
contemplated.  "Do we have time?  First sessions 
usually take a while, don't they?"

Eric kept his head very still, his voice even.  
"What's your final station?"

Patty checked the ticket stub in her blazer pocket.  
"Alexandria."

"That's the stop after mine.  We have a good two hours 
to work with; plenty of time, if you want it."  
Holding Patty's gaze, Eric could see desire sparring 
with hesitation.  He waited quietly while the duel 
played itself out in the arena behind her eyes.

Desire won.  "I want it," she said quietly.  

"Okay.  Why don't you go to the lavatory now so we 
don't have to interrupt the session later, and I'll 
get things ready here?"

While Patty was away Eric saved his work, closed the 
laptop and set it aside.  He pulled the curtain over 
the window and cleared the table of excess debris from 
their drinks.  His root beer was gone, so he refilled 
the can with fresh water from a dispenser near the end 
of the car.  His mouth felt dry; half the water was 
gone before he realized it.  Steady, Eric, he told 
himself, taking a deep breath and letting it out 
slowly.  Calm and confident.  

He was standing in the aisle waiting when she returned 
from the lav.  "Right here," he said, motioning toward 
the seat she had already been in before getting up; an 
unnecessary instruction, he knew, but one that helped 
to establish their new roles in both of their minds.  
"Go ahead and get comfortable," he told her before she 
could do so on her own.  "Find a position that feels 
right, and that you can maintain for a while."

"Can I recline?"

"A little bit, if you need to.  Not more than a few 
degrees."  He waited until she had settled in before 
sitting down himself.  He slid over to the window seat 
so that he could observe his subject without being 
directly in front of her.  

"Now what?"

Eric smiled.  She was already ceding control of the 
situation to him -- an excellent sign.  And was that 
an extra touch of pink in her cheeks?  "We're just 
about ready to begin," he explained.  "Since there are 
a lot of visible distractions, I'll take you into 
hypnosis by having you close your eyes and imagine an 
hourglass filled with different colors of sand.  As 
you envision the sand slowly draining from the top of 
the hourglass to the bottom, you'll find yourself 
relaxing and falling just as easily into trance.  Once 
you've achieved a workable depth, we'll do a few tests 
to show you that you really are under hypnosis, and 
then see how much deeper you can go.  I don't like to 
get too ambitious with a first session, but if things 
go very well we'll do a couple of simple, G-rated 
posthypnotic suggestions.   You'll feel yourself 
responding to them without thinking, and that will 
prove how good a hypnotic subject you are."  He paused 
a moment to let his predictions sink in.  "Are you 
ready?"

She licked her lips and met his gaze directly.  
"Ready."

"Then close your eyes," he instructed, letting his 
voice drop into a low, soothing tone.  "Close them 
now, and imagine that you are staring at an old-
fashioned hourglass.  See the wooden frame, the shiny 
glass, and millions of tiny grains of sand inside it.  
The upper half of the hourglass is completely full, 
the bottom empty; but as you watch, you can see that 
the sand has already begun streaming out of the upper 
half of the hourglass into the lower half.  See the 
sand, Patty.  Concentrate on the sand so that you see 
every grain of sand in that hourglass; nothing else 
that comes to your mind matters.  Let any other 
thoughts and idea just fall away; they're not 
important right now.  Focus your mind until the only 
things you are aware of are the sand in the hourglass 
and the sound of my voice.  

"Focus on the hourglass, and you'll find that as the 
sand flows smoothly, easily, and inevitably from the 
upper half to the lower, your body and your mind will 
relax just as smoothly, easily, and inevitably.  
You'll feel all of the tension in your muscles fading 
away with the flow of the sand, leaving you nice and 
relaxed and comfortable.  Each breath you take, each 
slow and easy breath, will help the sand flow and help 
your mind and body relax."

Eric continued his monologue in a smooth, even, well-
practiced voice, watching Patty for the first signs of 
physical relaxation.  When her face went slack and her 
head began to sag several minutes earlier than 
expected, he felt the familiar, delicious thrill rush 
through his body.  It's been way too long, he thought 
to himself.  

Seeing Patty's body respond, he shifted into the 
present tense.  "Your head is feeling heavy," he said, 
carefully masking the growing excitement within 
himself.  "It's okay to let your head fall gently 
forward, letting it rest, letting those tired neck 
muscles relax.  Your arms and legs feel limp and 
heavy, as if your whole body was turning into a big 
rag doll.  And with every breath, you feel yourself 
relaxing more and more, watching the sand flow through 
the hourglass, taking you into hypnosis.

"Keep watching the hourglass, Patty, and listening to 
my voice.  As more and more sand flows into the bottom 
half, you feel yourself floating deeper and deeper 
into a nice, relaxing trance.  My voice is here to 
guide you; listening to my voice takes you deeper and 
deeper into trance, gently and easily going deeper and 
deeper into trance.  You listen to my voice, and you 
find yourself responding to everything I say.  

"The hourglass top is almost empty now, Patty.  Empty, 
like your mind is becoming empty of all unnecessary 
thoughts.  My words help to clear your mind, and my 
voice takes the place of your thoughts.  You are now 
in a deep, relaxing trance and you will respond 
totally to everything I say."

And she was deep, he observed, noting the change in 
skin tone and the tiny movements of her eyes below the 
closed eyelids.  Plenty deep enough for the few simple 
tests he'd promised her.  

"In a moment, Patty, I'm going to lift your arm to see 
how relaxed you are.  I want you to keep watching the 
last bits of sand drain out of the top of the 
hourglass, and pay no attention at all to my touch.  
When I let go of your arm you will let it fall back to 
your lap, and when it does you'll relax even more and 
go deeper into your trance."  Moving carefully so as 
not to jostle her or brush against her relaxed, 
extended legs, he got up and walked around the table 
to her side.  Her right arm was totally limp and felt 
heavy in his grasp as he lifted it gently and hefted 
it.  "This is excellent, Patty," he commended his 
subject.  "Feel how very relaxed your arm is.  You've 
gone into a very deep, satisfying trance.  Now I'm 
going to put your arm down so that you can go even 
deeper."  He lowered the arm until it was just above 
her lap, then let go and let it drop.  She seemed to 
sink just a little deeper into the seat.

"I'm going to touch you in a few more places now, 
Patty," he said.  "On your neck, and on your face.  
Each touch will send you deeper into trance."  
Slipping off his wristwatch, he placed an index finger 
against the side of her throat and counted the pulse 
beats in 15 seconds.  Her heart rate was very slow but 
steady.  The skin of her face had a slightly clammy 
feel, evidence of reduced circulation.

"Patty, in a moment I am going to count to three.  On 
the count of three, I want you to lift your head and 
open your eyes.  I do not want you to wake up; just 
lift your head and open your eyes.  I don't want you 
look at anything in particular or try to focus your 
eyes on anything, either.  Just let them open and look 
straight ahead.  One, two, three."

Eric watched with satisfaction as Patty's head rose 
slowly from her chest.  When she was facing straight 
forward, her eyes slowly opened.  The still, unfocused 
stare he saw in them sent another rush of excitement 
through Eric's body.  A first-class subject, he 
thought to himself.  Even better than Kelly was.  For 
a second or two he pictured Kelly's face with that 
same blank stare.  How long had it been since they'd 
ended it -- six months?  Eight months?  Too long, 
certainly.

Stop it, he scolded himself.  This is not a sexual 
encounter.  His cock seemed unconvinced, standing at 
half-mast.  For all I know, she's married.  One look 
at her left hand suggested not.  She's probably got 
someone back home, he tried.

Ask her out, an inner voice suggested.  If she's 
attached, she'll say so.

"Close your eyes now, Patty, but leave your head 
upright."  He watched as her eyes closed, then slid 
back into his seat opposite her.  "Now, Patty, I want 
you to imagine a thermometer.  This one is different 
from most thermometers, though, because it is your 
trance thermometer.  Its numbers run from zero to 100; 
zero means you are not in a trance at all, and 100 
means that you are in the deepest trance you think you 
can reach.  I want you to imagine your trance 
thermometer now, and on the count of three I want you 
to tell me what number it is showing.  You can speak 
clearly and distinctly to answer me, and it will not 
disturb your trance state.  One, two, three."

Patty's lips parted slowly.  "Sixty two," she said in 
a sleepy monotone. 

His eyebrows rose -- Patty was turning out to be a 
surprisingly good subject.  If only they were in a 
quiet, private place ... 

No, Eric thought, mentally tying a tourniquet around 
his swelling cock.  This is not a seduction.

But you wish it was, the inner voice taunted.  You 
know you want her.

Yes, I do, he argued back.  But I can't break trust 
again.  That's how I lost Kelly.

The voice had no answer for that one.

Eric jerked his mind back to the present.  Patty had 
passed her tests easily, and was clearly deep enough 
to accept a posthypnotic suggestion or two.  Time to 
get back to the plan.

"Patty," he said, "you have done very well with the 
tests.  You know now that you are a very good hypnotic 
subject; you have no difficulty at all following my 
suggestions while in trance.  Because you are such a 
good subject, we are going to do some posthypnotic 
suggestions now.  You will listen to my suggestions, 
and you will follow them to the best of your ability; 
you are such a good subject that you will always obey 
my suggestions.  Let your head relax again now, 
sinking back to your chest, and listen to my 
suggestions."  

He waited for her head to settle back onto her chest 
before continuing.  "Your first suggestion is your 
trance trigger.  Whenever we are together, if I hold 
one of your hands and snap my fingers you will go 
immediately back into trance.  You won't think about 
it; you'll forget about whatever you might be saying, 
doing, or thinking at the time and just let go into a 
nice, deep trance, deeper even than the one you are in 
now.  You will go into trance only if I snap my 
fingers while holding one of your hands, Patty; if I 
just snap my fingers, or just grab your hand, it will 
mean nothing special.  If, when I hold your hand and 
snap my fingers, you strongly do not want to go into 
trance, you will say 'No' and tell me why you do not 
want to.  Otherwise, you will always respond by going 
immediately into trance whenever I hold your hand and 
snap my fingers.

"Your second suggestion is a test, to show you how 
powerful my suggestions are to you.  Sometime after 
you awaken, I am going to say the words 'animal 
magnetism' to you.  When I say 'animal magnetism', 
your hands will feel a powerful magnetic force pulling 
them upward towards the roof of the train.  The force 
will be irresistible; the harder you try to keep your 
hands down, the stronger will be the force pulling 
them up.  Your hands will rise until your arms are 
pointing straight up at the ceiling, and they will 
remain that way despite any efforts you make to bring 
them down again.  The force will not be strong enough 
to lift you out of your seat, or make you 
uncomfortable in any way, but your arms will continue 
pointing straight up until I clap my hands once.  When 
I clap my hands once, the magnetic force will go away; 
you will once again have full control of your arms, 
and this suggestion will be completely cancelled."

Eric repeated his suggestions, reinforcing them in 
Patty's subconscious mind, until he judged she had 
absorbed them fully.  "In a few moments, it will be 
time to wake up.  I'm going to count from one to ten, 
and with each number I count you will find yourself 
slowly rising out of your trance.  When I reach the 
number ten, you will be fully awake, alert, and 
feeling refreshed."  He counted up slowly, giving 
Patty plenty of time to rouse herself in response to 
his commands.  When he reached ten, her eyes fluttered 
open.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

She considered for a long moment before answering.  
"Wow," she finally said.  "I feel good.  Refreshed, 
like you said I would.  It was weird, though.  I 
remember everything, but it's like I wasn't really 
paying attention.  Does that make sense?"

"Sure it does.  A lot of people get that disconnected 
feeling when they're in a trance.  For me, it's like 
my body responds to the hypnotist on its own while my 
mind just sits back and watches."

"Was I really that deep?"

"It looked that way.  You could have gone a lot 
deeper, too, according to the depth test we did."

"Sixty two," she said with wonder on her face.  "Sixty 
two out of a hundred.  I wonder what a hundred feels 
like."

"Practice, and you'll find out."

"Speaking of finding things out," she countered.  
"Aren't you supposed to say something pretty soon?"

He grinned.  "You mean, some kind of remark about 
animal magnetism?"

Patty let out a soft gasp as her hands rose quickly 
above the table.  "Wow!" she exclaimed.  Her face 
flushed red; Eric could see the concentration in her 
eyes as she fought the imaginary force.  Her arms 
quivered with the effort, but succeeded only in 
slowing their ascent.  "I ... can't ... stop it ...  
arghhh!"  She growled and gave up; her hands, already 
at eye level, shot up the rest of the way and remained 
aloft, pointing to the ceiling of the train car.

"Surprised?" Eric asked, seeing the tiny beads of 
sweat that had formed during her effort.

"I shouldn't be, I guess," she replied.  "You told me 
it would be like this.  I thought I'd be able to fight 
it for a few minutes, though.  Jesus!  It's a good 
thing you didn't tell me to strip."

I could, the inner voice piped up.  He choked it off.  
"That might have worked," he said instead, "but 
probably not the same way.  Unless you're accustomed 
to being nude in public, your mind would have found a 
way around the suggestion.  You might have gone into 
the lavatory and stripped there in private, then put 
your clothes back on to come back here and tell me 
off.  Or your mind might have just postponed following 
the suggestion until you found yourself in a place 
where you felt comfortable taking them off.  Either 
way, you'd have good reason not to let me hypnotize 
you again."

"Can I help you, Miss?"  Neither of them had noticed 
the conductor entering the car.

"No, thanks," she replied, thinking quickly, looking 
at her arms.  "Just stretching a bit."

"Okay, Miss."  
 
Eric clapped his hands lightly as the conductor walked 
by.  Patty made a point of visibly stretching, then 
brought her arms to her sides and rested them on the 
table.  She and Eric shared a conspiratorial giggle.  
Overhead, the PA system announced their imminent 
arrival in Wilmington, Delaware.

"Nice thinking," Eric remarked as the train pulled out 
of the Wilmington station.  He held out his hand 
across the table.  

"Thanks," she said, unconsciously taking his offered 
hand.  "It seemed like a--"  The rest of her sentence 
vanished unspoken from her mind as Eric snapped the 
fingers of his free hand.  Her eyes glazed over and 
lost focus, then closed down as her body slumped back 
in the seat.

"Very good," Eric said, watching her settle into the 
seat.  "Your subconscious remembers and responds to 
your trigger.  Every time I hold your hand and snap my 
fingers, you will fall more easily and quickly into 
trance, and go deeper than the time before.  Let 
yourself go now, and sink deeper and deeper.  Imagine 
your trance thermometer, Patty; as you sink deeper and 
deeper into trance, you will see the indicator on the 
thermometer go to higher and higher numbers.  When the 
indicator reaches 75, I want you to squeeze my hand 
once."

He didn't have to wait more than a minute for the 
squeeze.  "Very good," he told her.  "You are now at 
75 on your trance thermometer.  I'm going to count to 
10 again, and as I'm counting you will wake up.  When 
I reach ten, you will be completely awake but unable 
to let go of my hand.  Nothing you do will enable you 
to let go of my hand until I tell you that you can."  
He counted to ten again, enjoying the sight of her 
eyes fluttering open.

As soon as her eyes focused again, Eric saw her left 
shoulder begin to flex.  "It's working," she 
confirmed, her eyebrows crinkling up in concentration.  
"I'm trying to pull my hand away, but the muscles 
won't work.  I can't do it."

Eric grinned.  "Of course not.  I told you, you're a 
very good subject."  Before she could reply, he 
snapped his fingers again and she slumped back into 
the chair.  "That's good," he said.  "Deeper and 
deeper, deeper than before.  See your trance 
thermometer, and when you reach 80 you will squeeze my 
hand."

It took only a few seconds, then he felt the pressure 
around his hand.  "Excellent, Patty.  Now, on the 
count of three, I want you to open your eyes and act 
as though you are completely awake.  I don't want you 
to wake up; you will remain in a deep trance, but you 
will sit up and move around and talk to me as though 
you were awake, all the while obeying my every 
instruction.  One, two, three."

Her eyes snapped open and she sat up in the seat.  "I 
still can't pull my hand away," she observed.

"True -- I haven't cancelled that suggestion yet.  How 
do you feel?"

"Fine," she said.  "A little spacey, maybe, from all 
the passing out and waking up."

"Not dizzy at all?"

She looked puzzled.  "No."

"Yes, you are," Eric said, watching her face.  "You 
are becoming very dizzy, as if you were very drunk.  
The entire train feels as though it is spinning 
around."

The puzzled look quickly faded into a slack-jawed, 
disoriented expression.  "Holy shit," she said.  "I am 
dizzy.  What the hell is going on?  Why is everything 
spinning around?"

"It's not," he replied.  "Even now, the dizziness is 
passing.  Everything looks normal again, and you feel 
fine."

Patty looked around her and nodded wonderingly.  "Yes, 
I do.  I'm fine again.  This is amazing."

"This is hypnosis," Eric told her.  "You are in what's 
called a waking trance; able to act as if awake, but 
your subconscious is still in control -- and I control 
your subconscious."

"Wow ... how long are you going to keep me like this?"

"Not much longer.  It's an advanced trick, especially 
for a first session.  I wouldn't even have tried it if 
you hadn't responded so well to the other 
suggestions."

"You are very good at this, aren't you?"

He smiled.  "Pretty good.  But it's you doing most of 
the work.  Do you have any requests before we end the 
session?"

She looked thoughtful.  "Requests.  Do you mean, 
suggestions to try?"

"Sure."

She flushed a little bit.  "I'd like to try something 
a little more ... risqu .  Something from the book."

"Really?"  Eric was surprised, and aroused.  "You 
mean, like one of the fantasies?"

"God, no," she said quickly.  "I'm pretty loud when 
I'm ... you know.  The whole train would know what I 
was doing.  I was thinking about the switch trick from 
Chapter Five; you know, 'Switch On' and 'Switch Off'?"

Eric worked hard to contain his excitement; meanwhile, 
his cock sprang to full attention.  "We can do that, 
certainly.  On the count of three, you will close your 
eyes and return to your deep, relaxed trance state.  
One, two, three."  On command, she slumped back in her 
seat again.  "Patty, I want you to let yourself drift 
deeper and deeper into trance.  Watch your trance 
thermometer, and squeeze my hand when you get to 85."

He waited, repeating his mantra of "deeper and 
deeper," until he felt the squeeze.  "Patty, you've 
read the chapter in my book on posthypnotic 
suggestions.  From now on, whenever I say the words 
'Switch On' to you, you will become extremely aroused, 
sexy and horny.  The foremost thought in your mind 
will be having sex at the first available opportunity, 
and the longer you have to wait for that opportunity 
the stronger that sexual desire will become.  Your 
sexual need will continue to grow until you actually 
have sex, or until I say the words 'Switch Off'.  When 
I say 'Switch Off', any sexual feelings that have been 
caused by a 'Switch On' command will be negated, and 
you will have complete control over your sexual 
thoughts and feelings again."

After reinforcing the suggestion several times, he 
woke Patty one more time.  "How do you feel now?"

"Good," she answered.  "A little anxious; I can't wait 
to find out what being switched on feels like."

"Switch on, then," Eric replied with a smile.

Patty shuddered, and her eyes opened wide.  "Oh, God," 
she gulped, her free hand pulling instinctively to her 
gut.  She stared at Eric as if seeing him for the 
first time, studying every aspect of his face.  "Do 
you have any idea what this feels like?"

"A little bit," he said, grinning openly.  "I know 
what it feels like when I'm the one being switched 
on."

"This is such a rush," she said.  "I've never been so 
out-and-out horny in my life as I am right this 
minute."  As she spoke, her free hand crept upward and 
cupped a breast.  

Overhead, the PA system crackled to life again.  
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are approaching Baltimore 
station.  Baltimore station in about two minutes."

"Had enough?"  Eric asked.

She squirmed in the seat and grunted softly.  "Yes," 
she said, nodding vigorously.

"Switch off."

She blinked, took a deep breath and let it out with a 
long sigh.  "Whew," she said, fanning herself with her 
free hand.  "Somebody turn up the air conditioning for 
a few minutes, please."

"Okay."  Eric snapped his fingers one more time and 
Patty dropped back into the seat.  He coached her back 
down to 85 on her depth meter, then gave Patty her 
final commands.  "On the count of ten, you will wake 
up and be completely alert and refreshed.  Your body 
will feel completely comfortable, neither too warm nor 
too cold, and all of my hypnotic suggestions to you 
will be cancelled--" an idea struck him and he changed 
his mind.  "Except for your trance trigger.  You will 
still go immediately into a deep trance whenever I 
snap my fingers while holding your hand, but none of 
the other suggestions I've given you today will affect 
you after you wake up this time."

The train was stopping -- they had reached Baltimore.  
He counted her up much more quickly than usual; Patty 
struggled a bit to open her eyes.  "Wow," she said, 
slowly pulling her hand out of his.  "That was a 
trip."

"I know," Eric replied, willing his cock to settle 
down again.  "You'd like to do that again sometime, 
wouldn't you?"  It was a suggestion disguised as a 
question.

"Absolutely," Patty replied automatically.

"Good.  Did you have any plans for this evening?"

"Nothing -- just check into the hotel, have dinner 
somewhere, read some more, and go to sleep.  My work 
doesn't start until tomorrow morning."

"Let me take you to dinner," he suggested, suppressing 
a wince as his conscience flogged him.

"Sure," she agreed, seemingly a little surprised at 
the speed of her own answer.  

They sat together making pleasant small talk while the 
train wound through Baltimore.  It stopped at BWI 
airport, and again in New Carrolton, Maryland.

"That's my cue," Eric said as the train pulled out of 
New Carrolton.  "Next stop, Union Station.  Alexandria 
comes after that."

"Where are we going for dinner?" she asked.  "I didn't 
bring anything very dressy."  

"I know a nice place in Springfield," he said.  "Good 
service, a nice, casual atmosphere, and succulent 
prime rib."

"Sold," she said with a smile.  

Pulling a notepad from his laptop case, he jotted down 
her hotel name and phone number.  "I'll pick you up at 
seven, okay?"

"That's fine."

He gathered his things together as the PA system 
announced their imminent arrival at Union Station.  
"By the way," he said with nonchalance.  "Do you have 
a CD player with you?  Something you can listen to 
while in your hotel room?"

"Not with me," she replied.  "Why?"

"Just an idea," he told her.  "I've done some audio 
recordings for the new book, and if you had a player I 
thought it might be fun to have you try them out.  I 
haven't had a chance to test them yet."

She shrugged.  "Sorry.  I'd love to, but I don't have 
anything to play them on here."

The train slowed and stopped.  "It's okay.  I'll see 
you again soon."

"Seven," she repeated.  "I'll be in the lobby."

They exchanged smiles.  Eric watched the train pull 
away from the platform and sighed, feeling excited and 
guilty at the same time.






Patty was waiting in the hotel lobby when Eric arrived 
at 6:55.  She had changed into a lightweight blue 
dress and heels.  She took his offered hand without 
thinking, then suddenly tensed; her eyes met his and 
she paused for a breathless second, part of her 
wanting him to snap his fingers and part wanting to 
pull the hand away before he could.  

Eric saw all of this flash across her face and smiled 
reassuringly.  "Ready to go?" he asked, releasing her 
hand.

She nodded and followed him to his car.  They headed 
west on the Capital Beltway toward Springfield and 
stopped at Kilroy's, a cozy restaurant/pub tucked into 
a shopping center off Braddock Road.  A pretty hostess 
led them to a corner booth with high walls.

"Nice place," Patty remarked, looking at the wartime 
memorabilia covering the walls of the booth.  

"I like it," Eric replied.  "It's comfortable, there's 
a lot of privacy, and the food really is splendid.  
Wait till you taste the honey-buttered biscuits they 
serve here."  He reached toward her for a menu and was 
amused to see that flash of conflict cross her face 
again.

"When you took my hand in the lobby, Eric, it felt 
like ... I mean, I thought you were going to ..."

"I know," he said, keeping his voice light.  
"Occupational hazard.  When I'm with someone I've 
hypnotized several times, I have to be careful to keep 
my voice from slipping too low -- if it gets too close 
to my hypnotist's tone, they tend to fade out on me."

Their waitress brought them tall glasses of iced tea.  
"Ready to order?"

Eric looked at Patty, who squirmed a little in her 
seat.  "Can you give us a few more minutes?" she asked 
the waitress.

"Sure," she said, and retreated with a smile.

Patty became clearly uncomfortable.  "Eric," she 
began, looking at anything and everything in the booth 
except Eric.  "Before you get the wrong idea, I really 
need to tell you something."

Eric waited, a lump growing in the pit of his stomach.

Patty drew a deep breath and let it out.  "I'm sort of 
engaged."

He let it hang there for a few moments.  Calm and 
confident, he reminded himself.  When she gathered the 
courage to meet his eye, he was ready.  "Sort of 
engaged?  Is that anything like 'sort of' pregnant?"

"Sort of," she replied, flashing a weak smile at her 
feeble joke.  "Craig is a great guy.  We've been 
together for about three years.  We live together, in 
my apartment on Staten Island, and we're going to get 
married eventually.  Right now we're just waiting for 
his next promotion, and then we'll make it official."

Eric kept his voice light and casual.  "Are you happy 
with him?"    

"Of course," she answered quickly.  "We have our off 
days, but so does every other couple in the world.  We 
have a lot invested in this relationship.  I haven't 
even thought about anyone else since I met Craig.  I'm 
not even sure why I'm here with you now, Eric.  I 
really shouldn't be, it's not fair to either of us."

"It's all right," Eric lied.  "I wasn't looking for a 
life partner on that train.  I asked you out because I 
like you, because I knew you'd probably be free, being 
away from home and all, and because I'd like to ask 
you a favor.  As for why you accepted ..."  Eric 
cleared his throat.  "I have a good idea, and I feel 
pretty guilty about it."

"What did you do?" she asked, surprise and suspicion 
creeping into her voice.  "Did you use a hypnotic 
suggestion to get me to go out with you?"

"No, no, no," he said.  "Nothing that underhanded.  
What I did do was take advantage of a side affect of 
deep hypnosis.  When you come out of a good trance, it 
takes a while before the critical thinking facility 
comes fully back into play.  During that time, which 
varies with the subject, you're still very susceptible 
to suggestions -- especially from the person who 
helped put you into the hypnotic state to begin with.  
Therapists take advantage of that phenomenon to help 
reinforce their suggestions even after the patient is 
awake; they call it 'waking suggestion'.  I took 
advantage of it to ask you out at a time when I knew 
you'd be strongly predisposed to agree."  He let his 
head drop.  "I shouldn't have done that, and I'm 
sorry."

Patty waited for him to look up again before 
answering.  "I'm sorry, too," she replied, meeting his 
eyes.  "Sorry that I didn't tell you on the train that 
I'm not available.  I think it would have been fun and 
exciting to date you, Eric.  But as it is, I should 
probably go."

"Don't," he insisted, reaching across the table for a 
hand.  "You don't have to go.  You still need to eat, 
and this is a good place to do it.  So we're not on a 
date; that doesn't mean we can't have a good time and 
just be friends."  Inwardly he winced at the clich .

"I suppose not," she mused.  "As long as there are no 
false expectations, I guess it wouldn't hurt."

"I think we've both put our cards on the table.  That 
is, unless you're secretly a man or something."

The joke was just funny enough to break the tension.  
"Not the last time I checked," she replied in kind.  


Some time later, Patty slid into the passenger seat of 
Eric's car and let out a contented sigh.  "That was 
delicious," she said.  "Thank you, Eric."

Eric smiled and looked into her eyes, wondering.

Patty picked up on the look.  "What?"

"We've been sitting together talking and eating for 
over an hour," he observed.  "In that time, you 
haven't said a word about your fianc e."

Patty flushed a bit and became very interested in the 
handle of her purse.  "I didn't think you'd want to 
hear about him."

"But I do," he said.  "I'm interested.  In writing my 
book and doing erotic hypnosis seminars, I've met a 
lot of couples; I enjoy hearing about successful 
relationships."

His earnest look overcame her initial suspicion.  
"Craig's a great guy," she told him.  "Confident, 
outgoing, just a bit of a tease.  Fun to be around."

"Does he know about the book?"

Patty shook her head.  "I haven't shown it to him yet; 
I wanted to read it first, see if it was really 
something I thought we could do.  He won't have a 
problem with it, though -- as a rule, he'll go for any 
activity that ends with us in bed."
They shared a soft chuckle, which subsided quickly.  
Patty stared out the window at the Beltway traffic 
while Eric contemplated his next move.

She gave him his opening.  "You said at the restaurant 
that you wanted to ask me a favor," she said.  "Do you 
still?"

Eric wanted to grin; he limited himself to a friendly 
smile instead.  "Yes, if you're willing."

"What did you have in mind?"

He popped open the armrest storage bin, removed a 
small cardboard box, and handed it to Patty.  She 
opened the top flap to find a Rio Volt, a pair of 
good-quality headphones with a long cord, and a CDR 
disk.  Eric cleared his throat and explained.  "My 
publisher thought it would be helpful if the second 
book included a CD with some sample sessions on it, so 
people can hear what an experienced hypnotist sounds 
like.  She thinks it will boost sales; I don't know, 
maybe it will.  So I recorded a long induction, a 
short induction, a couple of deepeners, and a few of 
the fantasy sessions.  The problem is, there's too 
much material there for a regular CD -- I had to 
convert the tracks to MP3 format to fit them all on 
one disk.  I need someone to listen to what's there 
and tell me which ones work the best, so we can put 
the best stuff on an audio CD."

"And you want me to help you with that?"

Eric nodded.  "You're such a good subject that it 
isn't really a fair test; things that work well for 
you might not work at all for someone less skilled at 
going into trance.  But I need someone other than 
myself to bounce these off of, and I hoped you'd give 
it a try."

Patty examined the Volt with interest.  "I will have a 
lot of free time this week," she remarked.  "This 
would certainly be a relaxing way to spend some of 
it."

"You'll do it?"

"Sure.  How do I work this thing?"

Eric let himself sigh.  "The instruction book for the 
Volt is in the box.  It's pretty simple, really; I put 
a paper list of the tracks in there for you.  You can 
program the Volt to play an induction, a deepener, and 
then one or more of the other tracks for you.  There's 
a wake-up track to finish off with.  All I ask is that 
you try each track at least once and rate them for me 
with how well they worked for you."

She nodded.  "And how do I get this back to you at the 
end of the week?"

"My phone number is on the sheet.  Give me a call and 
I'll come pick up the Volt.  Keep the disc if you want 
-- you can use it on your home computer.  I'll even 
give you a ride to the train station if you want."

Patty eyed him appraisingly.  "You're making it very 
easy to say yes to you."

Eric gave her an innocent shrug.  "It would help me a 
lot," he explained.  "I'm not seeing anybody right 
now, so I have nobody to test this stuff on.  In fact, 
if Craig is interested, I'd love to have you and him 
try some of the material from the new book.  I go up 
to New York every month or so to meet with the 
publisher anyway; we could get together and exchange 
notes."

"One step at a time," Patty said, giggling softly.  
"He doesn't even know about this particular kink of 
mine yet.  But I'll be happy to be your guinea pig 
while I'm in town, at least."

The car came to a stop in front of Patty's hotel.  
Eric held his hand out.  "That's good enough for me," 
he said.  "Thank you."

Patty took his hand and shook it.  Then, on impulse, 
she leaned over and kissed his cheek.  "I'll call you 
on Friday."

Eric watched Patty until she was inside the lobby and 
out of site, then sighed and pulled away.  On the way 
home, he found himself singing along with the Black 
Crowes.

Action speaks louder than words
And I'm a man of great experience.
I know you've got another man,
But I can love you better than him ...





Patty sat in the armchair in her hotel room.  The Rio 
Volt lay on the table beside her, the headphones in 
her hand.  For the fifth or sixth time, she raised 
them to eye level and then put them back down.  Her 
stomach felt queasy, her knees weak and shaky.  Why am 
I so nervous? she asked herself.

Because this is powerful stuff, her conscience 
answered.  You got a taste of how powerful it is on 
the train.

Yes, she argued with herself.  But it's still just 
hypnosis -- it can't make me do anything I don't want 
to do.

Oh, really?  Are you saying you wouldn't have 
willingly jumped Eric right there on the train if he 
hadn't given you the switch off command?

She paused, the memory of the experience flooding 
through her, bringing a tingle to her erogenous zones.  
He'd said, "Switch on," and in that moment every nerve 
and fiber in her being had only one desire -- sex, hot 
and wet and reckless and right away.  If, instead of 
"switch off," he'd said "Fuck me," would she have done 
it?

In a heartbeat, she realized.  Craig or no Craig, 
privacy or no privacy, she'd have given him anything 
he asked at that moment, done anything to satisfy the 
sexual need brought on by the hypnotic trigger.  That 
was scary.

And titillating.

Patty stared into space, daydreaming.  In her 
imagination, Craig was sitting on the bed nearby, 
smiling.  "Switch on," he said to her.  She saw 
herself moaning, ripping off her clothes, bowling 
Craig over onto the bed.  A raw, animal lust drove her 
as she forced down his pants and took his thick, rigid 
cock into her mouth ...

She shivered at the image.  Powerful, she thought.

This time she actually put the headphones on.  She'd 
skimmed the Volt instruction manual; it wasn't too 
hard to use, for all the features it had.  She worked 
the buttons to program a sequence of tracks.  Just an 
introduction, she told herself, and hit the Play 
button.

Eric's voice filled her mind almost immediately.  The 
quality surprised Patty; there was none of the usual 
hiss or background noise she was accustomed to 
hearing, just Eric, speaking as if from within her own 
mind, telling her to get comfortable and relax.  He 
told her to find something to focus her eyes on, 
either a spot on the wall or a favorite object, 
something she would enjoy looking at intently.  
Patty's eye settled on her own reflection in the 
dressing mirror across the room.  She looked deeply 
into her own eyes and, on Eric's cue, took a series of 
long, deep, slow breaths.  As Eric's voice droned on, 
Patty became increasingly aware of every detail of her 
face as reflected by the mirror:  how her eyes had 
those tiny flecks of gray in them, how her nose seemed 
to flare out as she exhaled, and how very sleepy and 
relaxed she looked.  Her eyes wanted to close; it 
wasn't time yet, she knew -- Eric had only just said 
that her eyes would begin to feel heavy and tired soon 
-- but holding them open was just too much effort.  
The lids dropped, and her head sank down onto her 
chest.



Eric sat in the makeshift study of his Dupont Circle 
home.  The laptop was open on the desk, but his 
fingers couldn't find the will to type.   His mind 
kept returning to the image of Patty, deep in trance; 
Patty, eyes open, staring blankly ahead; Patty, in 
switched-on mode, radiating sexual desire with her 
every move and look.

Patty, at the restaurant, saying, "I'm sort of 
engaged."

He let out a deep, unhappy sigh.  The good ones always 
are, he thought to himself.  

Why are you so stuck on this woman?  a voice inside 
him asked.  Just because she's so hypnotizable?

Of course not, he answered.  Because she's pretty and 
smart and shares my interests.  She's classy but still 
approachable, easy to talk to, with a really nice 
smile.

In other words, the voice remarked sarcastically, 
she's just like Kelly.

He had no comeback for that one.  It didn't matter 
anyway, he reasoned, since Patty was engaged.  He'd 
see her one more time, to retrieve the Volt and get 
her feedback on the recordings, and that would be it.

In his mind, he pictured himself knocking on a hotel 
room door.  Patty answered, in a silky bathrobe and 
slippers, looking surprised to see him.  "Switch on," 
he said to her, and watched the wariness in her face 
turn to unfettered desire.  In seconds the robe came 
off, revealing Patty's trim body adorned in a lacy, 
see-through bra and panties.  He stood still, watching 
with interest while she stripped off her underwear and 
posed for him, trying her best to be sexy for him.  He 
smiled as he pictured himself going down on her, 
driving her to the edge of incoherence before finally 
sinking his cock inside her...

No way, the inner voice proclaimed, breaking his 
daydream.  Not gonna happen.

Frustrated, and sporting a half hard-on, Eric grabbed 
his spare headphones from the desk drawer and plugged 
them into his laptop.  He pulled up Winamp, pointed it 
to a saved play list of old WAV recordings, and hit 
Play.

A rich, smooth female voice came through the 
headphones.  "Relax for me, Eric," it said, and even 
though it had been months since he'd heard Kelly's 
voice it melted him instantly.  Eric let go and 
allowed himself to slide out of consciousness, 
floating along in the silky smoothness of Kelly's 
voice as it guided him into fantasy.

"We're at a party," she told him, "a semi-formal 
affair full of people we don't know, arranged by the 
publisher.  You didn't really want to go, but felt 
obligated.  To make things a little more pleasant for 
you, I'm wearing my pink dress -- the one with the 
spaghetti straps and the scooped back, the one that 
always seems to grab your eyes and pull them directly 
to my cleavage, the one that you love seeing me in 
almost as much as you love getting me out of it.  

"You've already suggested once that we leave, but 
we've been there less than an hour so I tell you we 
have to stay and mingle a while longer.  You sigh and 
we drift apart, working the room.  You find yourself 
talking to one of the senior editors, saying all the 
right things, with half your mind idle and wanting to 
take me home and get me out of that dress.  You spot 
me across the room talking with your editor and his 
wife; our eyes make contact, and a playful, impish 
thought comes into your mind.

"The next time you see me looking at you, you touch 
your left earlobe.  It's my trigger, the one that 
makes me so incredibly horny I can barely concentrate 
on anything except how much I want your hard cock 
inside me.  You watch with satisfaction when you see 
me react to my trigger:  my eyes get wide, and my 
breath catches.  You see me trying to dissemble, to 
explain away the sudden change to you publisher and 
his wife, all the while being unable to keep my eyes 
from searching you out and staring at your crotch.

"You tease me for a while, working the room, letting 
the various VIP's draw you into short conversations, 
knowing that I'm getting hornier and more distracted 
with every passing minute.  Finally you come up to me 
alone, and ask if I'm ready to go yet.

"You can smell my arousal just standing next to me, 
and knowing how desperately I want you arouses you as 
well.  Taking my hand, you lead me to a nearby office 
and shut the door.  I wrap my arms around your neck 
and kiss you with all the built-up passion in my body.  
You lift my dress up and stick a finger inside my 
panties; they're soaking wet, and the feel of your 
finger against my slit makes me latch onto you even 
harder.  You pull my panties down, lift me up, and sit 
me on the edge of the desk.  

"I wave my arms back, pushing desk accessories and 
paperwork out of the way, and lie back on the desk for 
you.  You pull the spaghetti straps off my shoulders 
and roll my dress down.  My nipples are stiff and 
hard, and when you caress them with your hand I can't 
help but moan loudly.  You can see that I'm ready to 
come, and knowing what you've done to me makes you so 
hard and ready that you don't want to wait any longer.  
You drop your pants and underwear and thrust your cock 
deep inside me.  I'm so wet that it slides in easily, 
all the way, until you can feel yourself pressing 
against the end.  

"The pleasure is too much for me.  I start squealing 
and moaning, getting very loud.  You know how loud I 
can get when I'm excited, so you give me something 
soft to bite down on -- a little cloth beanbag, the 
kind people squeeze to help relieve stress.  I put 
that in my mouth and bite down hard on it, muffling my 
screams of ecstasy.  You thrust your cock in and out, 
getting us both so aroused, so ready, so needing to 
come.

"Finally, you feel my muscles clamp down on you as I 
scream into the stress ball.  I'm coming, and knowing 
that you've made me come like this feels so good that 
you can't hold back any longer.  You come, pumping 
inside me while I squeal and pant.  It is the longest, 
best orgasm you can remember having.

"Some time later, our breathing returns to normal.  
You withdraw yourself from me and pull your pants back 
up.  I'm too exhausted to move right away, so you kiss 
my thighs and wipe me off with a cloth napkin you 
pocketed from the party earlier."

A few minutes later, Kelly's voice counted up and Eric 
opened his eyes.  He was dazed and a little 
disoriented.  A wet, sticky stain was spreading across 
the front of his pants and a vivid memory of something 
that had never actually happened was haunting his 
heart.  

You had Kelly, the inner voice taunted him, and you 
blew it.

I know.




Patty opened her eyes at the count of ten.  She 
shifted in the chair, stretched and yawned.  A good 
ride, she judged.  She'd set the Volt to play back the 
long induction, followed by a deepener, then another 
deepener, and then the wake-up track.  Her watch told 
her that she'd been under for slightly under an hour, 
which agreed with the play times on the tracks.  She 
felt refreshed, calm, content, and a little excited.

See, she scolded herself lightly.  No adverse effects.  
I'm not suddenly, uncontrollably lusting for Eric.

The voice quieted, she undressed and went to bed.





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