Things might have gone differently if Coral hadn’t hired a gorgeous and troubled girl like Judith to begin with. Or if Coral hadn’t become so preoccupied in her studio, at the same time that she lost some of her ferocity in bed. It might have been different, too, if Coral hadn’t been so willing — almost eager — for me to see Judith as a client.

That must be one of my faults, trying to lay the blame for my reckless compulsions at somebody else’s feet, as though the demons inside of me needed a whole lot of help. As though I hadn’t been in their grip long before I’d even met Coral. As though I didn’t know how to spit in the face of reason all by myself.

It didn’t help that I felt on edge all the time, wondering what Mira had intended me to know while fearing what Coral did know. The most sensible thing, given the circumstances, would be to email Mira, and try to learn what I needed to know to head off disaster. TheselegsR4U was an unforgettable address, and I had already created a new private account, one that Coral would not know existed. Contacting Mira, however, meant total collapse to me. The collapse of my marriage, probably, because seeking a taste of Mira could only lead to further tastes of Mira, and she was about as manageable as a sudden thunderstorm. Contacting her meant losing of any hope of self-control, and assured the collapse of… well, me, the supposedly new and improved Michael.

Which was just another lie, of course. That illusion was collapsing on its own, because there was no new Michael — how could there be, when I was already weighing how to cheat on my wife, rather than whether to cheat?

Having the walls tumble down did not come without a price, which included a bit of paranoia. Several times, I felt with visceral certainty that Mira was nearby, regarding me. The sound of high heels quickly stepping on the sidewalk at my back, for instance— I would stop, and turn, certain that the heels led to a pair of silk stockings, clinging to the best legs I would ever know in this life. Twice, while in the kitchen, I felt a presence in the room, when I knew Coral was away running errands. Though my blood turned to ice in my heart and shoulders at these moments, my cock grew instantly hard, and I couldn’t ignore the mixed emotions of relief and disappointment when the clicking heels behind belonged to a short Asian woman, or the presence in the room turned out to be Scarlet, stretching on the floor.

I feared the reappearance of Mira; I craved the reappearance of Mira. And I loved Coral, although she was lying to me, or withholding crucial information about a hypnotized sexpot whose radar had been tuned to pursue my dick. Coral's uncharacteristic deceptions ate at me. They made me want to act out, and control whatever events I could, whenever I could.

Which must explain why Judith’s submissive streak kept calling out to me so strongly. Though she represented everything I knew I should not do, I couldn’t ignore how ideally her semi-conscious kinks played into the immersion technique’s effectiveness. It was almost like a perfect storm — Judith’s sunny good looks and willing malleability, added to two things she had said in my office on Friday. The first, before I’d put her under: You can hypnotize parts of the body. She hadn’t known what she was talking about, but with all I had learned in recent months at the hospital, she might be correct. And later, when in the immersion state and made to speak her deepest truths: They… push buttons… unknown to me. They make me feel, and do… And I can’t help it!

I felt compelled to gauge the effectiveness and scope of my abilities, now that I’d had months of additional experience of directing the mind’s relationship to the nerve centers of the human body. More than that, I wanted Judith to know something of what was happening, and to get off from knowing. To this point, my immersion mischief had remained unknown to those affected — though they couldn’t help succumbing to the energy of their stoked unconscious drives, they remained unaware of the extent of my meddling, and complicity. They thought it was them, and their issues, not my hidden hands shaping the clay of their minds.

It could be different with a girl like Judith. With what I’d accomplished during that first rushed session, I could go at her again and again, turning her into my little cognizant anti-Mira, a disciplined hypno-puppet who kept coming back for more even when she knew what she was getting. She wouldn’t be out of control like Mira, and she wouldn’t believe I was helping her, like Rosita. She would know that I was inside, playing her mind and body. She would feel me inside, and drip all the more.

It was too rich a fantasy to leave unexplored, and too compelling to resist. And, as expected, it was not a long wait. Judith called two days after that kitchen blackmail encounter, and just hearing her voice on the phone made me hard. Friday’s immersion suggestions had silently taken hold of her, doing their dirty little deeds, and I could hear the effects in her voice the moment she opened her mouth.

“I know I have no right to ask this, not after what I did to you the other day,” she spoke quickly, as though afraid I might hang up. “I wouldn’t even be calling if I didn’t feel so… desperate. I think I need to see someone, a therapist. I’m coming apart at the seams!”

“How so?” I asked. “What is it that you’re feeling?”

“I don’t know, it’s… For the last month, at least, I haven’t felt like myself, like I’m… you know, going kind of crazy! I wouldn’t have done that to you… in your kitchen… I didn’t know I was like that! I lost control and… Oh God, can you forgive me?”

For the last month — when she’d begun to model for my beautiful wife and learned of my hypnotic talents, stirring her latent tendencies. “I don’t know if I can forgive you,” I answered. “You were being such a bitch.”

I heard her breath change over the line, the stern talk getting her hot. “I really need to see someone, Michael. Please let it be you. I felt better leaving your office, a lot better. All energetic and… purposeful. But now… Oh please, please! I’m so… agitated! I need… I need…”

“What do you need, Judith?”

“My cun… I mean…” She more or less groaned into the phone, then began talking too fast. “Hypnotized, I need to be hypnotized, I just need a session with you like really really bad, and I’ll be a client, like a real client, and I’ll pay you to hypnotize me! I just… Oh pleeease!”

Her words might as well be butter that she was spreading all over my dick. “Come to the house at seven tomorrow,” I consented.

“In the morning?” she asked, hopeful.

“Fuck no! You don’t think I have a life?” I listened as she stifled a gasp of pussy pleasure. “You’re lucky I’m willing to meet with you at all,” I faux-growled before hanging up. I smiled, imagining the scene on the other end of the line. She probably had a finger inside her pussy already.

Judith appeared Monday evening, just when I’d known that Coral would be at a planning meeting at the university. It probably wasn’t critical that she was away — the walls of our house are thick, and my third floor office might as well exist in its own world. Judith had been instructed to conceal her feelings when Coral was present, too, making an ugly scene extremely unlikely, perhaps impossible. It felt right to me, though, to have Coral absent during this first session with Judith, because I knew it was going to involve real sex this time, under our roof. I had that much integrity, at least, to have the wife away.

To my eyes, Judith looked better than ever when she rang our bell. She appeared in white short shorts and running shoes, with a lime green tank top and the conspicuous absence of a bra. The strap of a large shoulder bag cut diagonally across her front, slipping into the crack between her firm tits and drawing the green cotton to them, turning them into neatly delineated mounds with swollen nipples. What made it all perfect, though, were her eyes. They couldn’t be baggy when she was only eighteen; even so, it looked like she had barely slept since I’d seen her on Friday. Judith, by all appearances, was a wreck — a sexy blonde hypnotized Valley girl of a wreck with excited nipples and a world-class ass, yes, but still a wreck.

“You’re two minutes late!” I snapped.

You had to be looking for it, to see the tremor passing through her system. “Oh God I’m so sorry!”

“I want you to be punctual.”

“I will be! I promise!”

I didn’t invite her in, just taking in the swell of her strap-divided breasts, and the way the slanting sunlight added hints of orange to her fine blonde hair. Looking at her dressed this way reminded me of high school, and every unattainable cheerleader I hadn’t fucked.

“Is Coral here?” she asked.

“No, she isn’t. She won’t be back for a couple of hours.”

“Good! I mean…”

“What are you here for, Judith? Are you even sure?”

Her answer came in the form of her weight shifting on restless legs. She looked like she had to pee, but I knew better. “I broke things off with my boyfriend,” she finally said, looking into my eyes to see if that pleased me.

“He sounded like a twit.”

“He was! He was disgusting. I can’t believe I ever…” She didn’t finish.

“Is that why you want to see me? Because you feel unglued after breaking up with your boyfriend?”

“No, it’s… more. Can we, you know, go up to your office?”

To the safe zone I’d given her, where she unconsciously knew she could let it all out. “You can say what you need to say out here. Nobody is watching, or listening.”

“I want you to hypnotize me again!” she blurted, once given permission.

“Why don’t we conduct an exploratory session in the kitchen instead?” I asked. “My memories of you in the upstairs office are hardly professional, because they involve blackmail, and lingerie, and you wanting to suck on my cock. We could start all over in the kitchen over some iced tea, and informally explore whether we’re even going to have any sessions.”

I watched the blood drain from her face. For a second or two I thought she might faint. An almost inaudible whimper eased through closed lips. “Can you hypnotize me in your kitchen?” she asked, not looking up.

“No, I can’t.”

A faint birdlike peep of pain. Her head continued to hang down, and I realized that she was staring at the erection pushing at the crotch of my khakis. Her eyes locked on with her mouth hanging open.

“I want the kitchen, Judith. What do you want?”

She stood still, caught. She was dying for an immersion session in the office, but also wanted to please me and obey. I waited her out, providing no relief from the indecision. Which impulse was stronger, her naturally submissive side or the implanted suggestions?

“I was really hoping?” she squeaked.

“For?”

“That you would want what I want, and want me to do it?”

The pressure inside had her sentences ending as questions, the tone of her voice like a piccolo at the end. Under the circumstances, it was hot.

“Do you take public transportation, Judith? Or do you drive?”

“Huh? I…”

“Answer me!” I had my reasons for needing to know.