On line to get her a decaf espresso, he glanced at his watch. Jarrod's program started its second function a minute after he'd left, and had about ten minutes to run through its first pass. He smirked. The males in the IAEC's reactor compliance section universally reviled Christmas. She dressed to kill, and gave no male even the time of day. That was definitely going to change, for at least one of the guys -- him! He hummed tunelessly as he made his way slowly past the cashier's, then down the halls, elevators and more halls back to their area. He awkwardly worked the door handle and stepped into their office.

Christmas Jones was looking straight ahead at the screen, back nicely straight, arms at her sides, firmly fixed at the screen. A folder in her lap had spilled its contents to the floor. She didn't look up at him. He carefully set down his tray on his desk as he eased their door shut with his foot. No sense in startling her if she wasn't really set in the trance inducer's grip. He donned a set of noise-canceling headphones and plugged them into his computer, then activated the controller program running on his machine. He maneuvered his keyboard, screen and chair so that he could see her without getting caught by his own screen capture program. He sniggered to himself; 'now that was a new use for the phrase!' He pulled out his PalmPilot and brought up a memo entitled "check list," and started working through the list.

"Christmas, can you hear me?" Jarrod said carefully and clearly.

"Yeh.. uhhhh...... yes," she slowly answered, eyes transfixed on the inducer's screen, which had taken over her monitor's display and audio system.

"Can you see the pattern yet?"

"Uh hmmmm...."

"Go deeper, and you will see the pattern. Deeper and deeper. More relaxed with each breath. Count your heartbeats down from one hundred."

"Ninety.... nine.... Ninety.... eight...." Christmas kept counting woodenly while Jarrod stood up and snagged their "conference call sign from the inside door knob, opened their door a crack and hung it on the door. That would keep people out for a couple of hours. Then he leaned over from behind Christmas' desk and pressed the 'make busy' button on her phone then, back at his desk, on his. Check, check and check, down the list. He went over the next steps while Christmas chanted woodenly downwards in the background, her voice getting more distant and slower as she neared the end.

"Three.... Two.... One......." she stopped, still fixedly staring at the screen.

"You are in a comfortable place, Christmas, right?"

"Yuh.... huh...."

"Very good. I want you to remember this place. When I call you 'Ex-mas darling,' you will immediately come back to this nice, comfortable, soft place. Every time I call you Ex-mas darling. Do you understand?"

"Yes.... ex-mas darling. Come back. Soft. Comfortable...." She trailed off again.

"Great," Jarrod said warmly. "Very well done. You like to do things well, right Christmas?"

"Yes.... always well.... The best...."

'Wow,' Jarrod thought, 'she's that sure of herself, all the way deep and down.' "Yes, you are. And you are the best lover, too. You know that, don't you, Christmas?"

She frowned a bit, vaguely. Shifted slightly in her armchair. "Ummm.... I don't I don't..... know."

'A hah,' he thought, the chink in the armor he'd been looking for. "Why don't know know Christmas? Tell me truthfully; I am your friend, you trust me."

Christmas visibly tensed, but her eyes were still firmly rooted to the screen capture's display. "I don't know... haven't been good friends with men.... they want my body, reject my.... my mind." Christmas' eyes started tearing up.

"That's okay," Jarrod hastened. "You are safe. You are comfortable. You feel only pleasure in this place." Christmas immediately relaxed, her breathing went back to the slow sips of air she'd been taking.

"You feel a lot of pleasure in this place, Christmas. Your mind is clear, you think of no troubles. Your body feels good, you feel sexually alive. You feel horny, Christmas. Tell me you do."

Christmas started squirming slowly in her seat. "Yes," she said, a little lower-pitched than before, "I do feel pleasure. I feel good here."

"Let yourself feel your pleasure. Touch yourself where you feel pleasure. Feel warm, feel hot." Jarrod was starting to feel a little hot under the collar himself, but he kept to the checklist. Christmas raised her left hand slowly to her right breast, started massaging it through her bra, rolling, then pinching her nipple. Her right hand dipped lower from her lap into her crotch, rubbing at it with the side of her palm, from the thumb's first knuckle to her wrist. As she finished a downstroke she wiggled her wrist hard into her crotch. She started moaning quietly.

"That's right, Christmas. Feel the pleasure. But while you're feeling pleasure here, in the office, you can't use your voice. Your larynx doesn't work here. Nod if you understand." Christmas' moans stopped immediately, and she nodded in time to her slowly stroking hand between her hips. She shifted forward, putting her crotch at the edge of the chair, giving herself more room to work her wrist.

"Good work, Christmas. You are very hot now, but you cannot come here. You can feel pleasure, but cannot come. Do you know why, Christmas?"

A faint look of consternation crossed her face, and Jarrod realized she might have been going without for a long time. She shook her head.

"You cannot because you left your orgasm in my house, Christmas. You left it there and until you go to my house you can't have one. Do you want your orgasm, Christmas? Do you want to complete the pleasurable feeling?"

Christmas nodded vigorously, rubbing herself harder. She switched hands, her left diving down to her pants, slipping under the jeans while her right twirled and tweaked the peak of her left breast.

"Okay, Christmas. Stop what you are doing and listen to me. Only by listening to me can you find your orgasm." She stopped and brought her hands back to her lap.

Jarrod, went over a list of things she had to do. by the checklist. Finally, he prepared to bring her out: "All right, Christmas, you will do everything I've said here, but your awake mind won't remember them or know why. That way you can be the best lover. If you do not do this, you will not be the best. You do want to be the best, right, Christmas?"

Christmas nodded frantically, fear crossing her face, closely followed by panic.

"Okay, relax, Christmas. Come back to he comfortable place." He waited as she relaxed. "Remember, when I say 'ex-mas darling,' you will immediately come back to this safe, comfortable, pleasurable place."

Jarrod deactivated her screen capture program from his machine, and reinstated the subliminals. He took off and put away his headphones. Then he took her espresso and put it into the small microwave in their office. When it was hot, he put it back on the tray. "All right, Christmas. I'm going to count back from three. When I say 'one,' you will wake up refreshed. You will think you had a small nap, so lay your head down on the desk." Christmas immediately complied, and closed her eyes. "Okay, when you wake up you can talk again, and while you won't remember anything we talked about, you will do as I instructed."

"Three.... two.... One." He lifted up the tray and passed it towards Christmas, who was just picking her head up. "He, sleepyhead, here's your coffee. You owe me a buck."

Christmas shook her head muzzily. "Wow, I must have really been wiped." She looked down at the spilled papers. "How long have I been out?"

Jarrod checked his watch. "About an hour, I think. You were really crashed, so I put up the do not disturb on the door and phones. I hope you don't mind."

"Shit, Jarrod, someone could have needed me." She paused a moment. "Sorry, Jarrod, knee jerk reaction. I appreciate the thought."

'And I appreciate your reprogramming, thank you very much,' answered Jarrod to himself, as he smiled meekly and returned to his work.