I didn't expect to enjoy the party now, but I was so angry I wasn't going to let anybody think they'd driven me away. I was relieved not to see Malcolm in the lounge, and I went to the drinks table where Bob was pouring. He cheerfully provided the rum and coke I requested, heavy on the rum. Twenty minutes later I was starting my third and I sat down alone on a sofa, beginning to feel really depressed.

I've always had a terrible temper. I was a brat when I was growing up, with frequent tantrums where I'd destroy property and throw things at people. Mom was a schoolteacher and Dad was a librarian, both of them dead-set against physical punishment for children, but by the time I was ten they gave up on theory and started paddling me when I acted up. Once they learned to do it hard enough to intimidate me, it was the only thing that made me behave myself for three or four weeks at a time. My disposition got even worse during adolescence, and I kept getting punished until I was nearly sixteen, when I finally understood that my parents were really on my side and my anger was hurting me more than anyone else.

I was boy-crazy early, but by the time I was allowed to date I had special needs I couldn't communicate to any of the boys I knew, so it never worked out. I'd start feeling sexually stifled in every relationship, even with the two guys I went to bed with, and I'd end up getting angry and starting arguments until we broke it off. In my sophomore college year I decided it was hopeless and began refusing dates, but when I met Vince last February I immediately realized he was different. He came from a tough neighborhood in LA and had an effective way of dealing with my temper, which meant, among other things, that I was able to relax with him. He was a lot smarter than Patty realized, and kind of sweet really, so I opened up to him more than I ever had with boys in school. He learned about my special needs and how to turn me on, and we ended up having a great physical relationship! But then Vince got in trouble last summer, and the police said that if he joined the Marines they'd drop charges. We both cried when he had to leave, but he only wrote once at the end of basic training to say he was going to be stationed in Manila. I realized after reading the letter several times that he was telling me he wasn't going to be any good at carrying on a relationship by mail.

So here I was almost halfway through my senior year without a guy in my life, acting bitchy when I got asked out because I felt so frustrated. Malcolm was probably the nicest guy in our dorm. He hadn't really been that pushy -- he probably just knew my reputation for dating and didn't want to give up easily. I felt tears in my eyes, and realized the drinks were making me maudlin. Then I saw Patty magically appear next to me on the sofa.

"I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time, Laura," she said gently. "I lost my temper."

"YOU lost your temper?" I realized I was close to slurring my words. "You do OK in the temper department, but I'm the one who's the champion at that!"

"Yeah, we both have tempers. I think it's because we're both half-Irish: Laura O'Connor and Patty Doherty!" This was Patty's favorite reason for all our shared traits. "But you're the one with red hair, so you have the champion temper!"

I nodded a little too vigorously and felt dizzy. That was what all my Irish relatives said too.

"I'm going to have to apologize to Malcolm when I see him," I said. "If you run into him first, tell him I feel bad about the things I said, OK? And I didn't really mean them." Patty nodded, friendly again now that I was acting reasonably, and I added, "I'm really sorry I told you to fuck yourself, Patty. I think one reason I'm so tense lately is that I've been trying to diet."

"And the other reason is that you're dying to try it!" This was another of Patty's favorites.

"Yeah, that's true."

I wasn't going to explain how true it was, though, not even to a roommate. I'd been tense most of the term because I was following a regimen to reduce my libido that I'd read about in book on women's sexuality. The book said that if I cut down on masturbating I'd eventually stop thinking about it so much, but it sure hadn't worked during the eight weeks I'd been trying. My target was once a week, and I hadn't been able to achieve that yet, but at least I'd cut back from the twice a day frequency after Vince left.

I talked with Patty for a while and gradually began feeling social again, so I didn't leave the party until midnight. I'd had a lot to drink by then and I wasn't used to it, so I just had time to get my clothes off before I fell into bed naked and went to sleep. At least I was able to avoid my usual fight with temptation after I got in bed, which was usually worst on a Friday night.

When I woke up and looked at the clock, it was almost 9:00 AM. On a Saturday! Shit! I was late, and X would be angry!

I grabbed my robe and bathroom kit and ran into the hall, unexpectedly meeting a floor resident named Tim while I still didn't have my robe fastened properly. I had to take my time in the toilet to get ready for my weigh-in, but then I showered and brushed my teeth in three minutes flat, and ran back to my room. Patty was gone, so I didn't have to be surreptitious about what I did next. I rummaged in my panty drawer for my diaphragm, glooped in some Koromex jelly and inserted it. Then I put on my underwear and a tracksuit, stood up, and said, "I'm ready."

I had the usual feeling of being in a Star Trek transporter as my dorm room dissolved around me and X's larger bedroom took its place. X was standing in front of me wearing his running suit, and I knew he didn't have any underwear on -- he could just pull down his pants and he'd be ready to come into me. I suddenly felt tremendously attracted to his tall runner's body, six-two to my own five-nine, and realized how horny I was. But I knew I wasn't going to get any treats to start with.

"You're late, Laura." X sounded annoyed, and I felt a sinking feeling. "Are you ready for your weigh-in?"

"Yes, sir," I said, and started taking off my own tracksuit, flushing like a fifteen-year-old as usual.

I didn't understand why I still got so embarrassed stripping in front of X. I should be used to it my now! I'd finally settled on taking off my bra in case the three ounces might put me over my weight line, but leaving on my panties since they only weighed an ounce. I knew I wouldn't have my panties on very long, but I just couldn't bring myself to take them off for my weigh-in. When I stepped on the scales, I held my breath as I adjusted the small weight, and finally let it out again as I saw I was right on my line, 143 pounds. So I wouldn't get paddled for that! I marked my weight for the week on the chart, then stepped off the scale and went to the table where X had his paddle and other toys.

"Did you masturbate again this week after I caught you Monday?" X asked. He didn't sound angry now, so I began to hope he wouldn't be too hard on me.

"Yes, sir," I answered. I had to tell the truth, of course. "I did it again on Wednesday after dinner. I was getting so horny I couldn't stand it."

"That's hard to believe since I got you off after your paddling on Monday." X paused, looking at my body in a way that excited me, then continued, "But at least you waited two days, so you'll only get twenty spanks for that. Did you do anything else to be punished for?"

"Yes, I was late just now . . ." I hesitated, trying to resist telling on myself, but it was hopeless. ". . . and I acted bratty with Malcolm and started a fight when he asked me out."

"How many spanks do you think you deserve?" I felt a wave of relief as I realized I was going to be allowed to name my own punishment. I didn't dare make it too easy though.

"Twenty for fighting with Malcolm and ten for being late?" I worried he'd say I wasn't being serious enough and double the number, but he didn't.

"All right, that's fifty you have coming. Get in position."

Now I had to drop my panties of course and I got MUCH more embarrassed, flushing like a fifteen-year-old about to get a bare bottom paddling from a male classmate. I dropped my panties before X could say I'd delayed, then bent over the heavy table close to X, who was standing at the head of the table on my left. I reached as far across the table as I could to grab the other edge, and spread my legs to lower my hips, until my belly was resting on the surface. All the weight of my upper body was on the table in this position, so I couldn't jump up -- I couldn't even twist away when I felt the first paddle spank land.

I cried out when it came, then concentrated on making as little noise as I could, as I'd been told. Toward the end of the first thirty I was squealing pretty loudly with each new stroke, but then X gave me a short rest and I was able to catch my breath for a minute. The right cheek of my bottom was stinging a lot more than the left, and I wished X would switch sides between rounds to make it even out. Somehow it didn't feel right this way. He never did that though.

After a few minutes rest, X started paddling me again, and I was much more tender now. I gave a little shriek every time I got a spank, and I was keening continuously at the end. X had a rule I couldn't ask for mercy or I'd get extra spanks for speaking out of turn, so I just had to take it. I was grateful that I was only getting fifty spanks today, because it felt excruciating when I had to get a third or fourth round. X never gave me more than four rounds, thank God.

Now that my paddling was over I was anticipating what X would do next, and looking forward to the part at the end. X told me to let go of the opposite edge of the table. Then he dropped the leaf on that side, so I was resting on a narrower table with my breasts hanging pendulously over the edge where the leaf used to be. I put both arms behind my back and grasped one wrist with the other hand, then felt them lock together. X was still at the head of the table where he could touch my breasts and rear, and I gasped as he started to rub my sore bottom with his right hand. I felt sudden arousal moving in waves from my behind into my groin, and when he started playing with my nipples in front I began panting and making little cooing noises. X seemed to move his left hand away from my breasts, but I could still feel my nipples being played with, both of them in fact, and then I saw X reach around me for the moisturizer cream. A moment later I felt the little anal dildo sliding into my rectum, and I got even more excited, squirming in place on the table as he pushed it in and out. A minute later X's middle finger came between my legs and touched my clit, and I was humping immediately, moving as much as I could against X's finger in that position. Within a minute I was moaning loudly, and pretty soon I felt like I was only about ten seconds from orgasm.

X always knew when I got close though, and he stopped touching me whenever I had any hope of getting off. He left me with no contact for about thirty seconds, then touched my clit again for a much shorter period until I felt like I could come again, and broke contact a second time. He kept repeating this, leaving me without contact for thirty second breaks, then touching me again to get me close. After awhile he only had to touch me for a few seconds after each break, and I felt like I was ready to come anytime if he just maintained contact for ten seconds. I was humping galvanically now whenever he touched me, and even when he didn't, making animal noises and losing control of my leg muscles, beginning to drool on the floor.

Suddenly X spoke through my fog of arousal. "Do you want to come?"

"Yes, sir!" I shouted. "Please, sir! I'll do anything you say."

X told me to stand up, and I saw he'd taken off his tracksuit and had a wonderful erection for me! He started walking over to the bed, and I ran in front of him, so aroused I was practically dancing with excitement, but afraid he'd be mad if I tried to hurry him. He got on the bed and lay down on his back while I waited for permission, then finally told me I could get on top. I was on top with him in me within three seconds, and I came instantly with a guttural scream. X hadn't had any friction at all up to now, so he was still rock-hard, thrusting in and out of me and manipulating my anal dildo with his fingers, and almost right away I began to climb to a second orgasm, something I never had ordinarily. I came again just as X started his climax and we were both making a lot of noise at the end.

After it was over I got down on the bed by his side but kept my arms around him so we could hug. I felt profound satisfaction from my two orgasms, but I still wanted X to show me some affection. Luckily, X liked to cuddle after sex too, so we spent a long time kissing and twining our bodies as close as possible. Pretty soon he started teasing me about what a naughty girl I was, but made it clear he thought it was sexy to punish me. By this time the paddling I'd had seemed like just a preliminary to sex, but I knew I'd be scared later to get another one. Still, I understood that this was the discipline I needed, so I told X that and he kissed me and hugged me until my tension and unhappiness of the past few days had disappeared. I finally drifted off to sleep for a minute and when I came out of it X said it was time to leave, so I got up obediently, took out the anal dildo and took it into the bathroom to wash it off, then put on my clothes. After I said, "I'm ready," I saw X's bedroom dissolve back into my dorm room, the last thing I noticed.

It was nearly six on Saturday when I finished my homework and put away my text. I was all caught up, so I had the rest of the weekend to myself, but when I stood up from my desk I noticed a squishy feeling between my legs. My period was two weeks away, and when I took off my panties I saw a milky discharge that smelled sexual. Odd. I'd gotten myself off this morning, Saturday was the one day a week I was aiming at, but I wiped afterward didn't I?

I couldn't remember. In fact I couldn't actually remember masturbating, although I was positive I'd done it. I still felt kind of satisfied: there was only the tiniest bit of sexual tension beginning to come back. But this was so weird, not remembering! I usually lapsed from my regimen a few times during the week, but the book I was reading said I was supposed to concentrate on my target day, and I looked forward to it a lot!

I wiped myself with a wash cloth and dropped the cloth and my panties in the hamper. When I opened my panty drawer, I saw my diaphragm container on top, next to the Koromex jelly. Weird! This was the fifth or sixth time I'd seen it there, and I couldn't explain it! I'd been in my room all day since I got dressed that morning, so nobody could have moved it! I opened the container and looked at my diaphragm, unused since Vince left in late August. What the hell was going on? I seemed to be having a lot of memory lapses lately.

Patty was out as usual -- she was almost never in the room -- but she usually came home for dinner. I started reading ahead in my Accounting text, and Patty arrived a few minutes later with Gail so we went to Angelo's and split a large pizza. Afterward I went to the dorm lounge and watched TV for awhile, then took a long walk around the campus before I came home and got ready for bed. I wasn't very horny yet, and it was easy to resist temptation on Saturday night.

On Sunday, I joined Patty and her group that takes hikes around the Park trails. It was a long, vigorous day, and we had a late dinner when we got home, then sat around talking in the lounge until I felt like bed. Patty said she wanted to stay another hour, but she'd let herself in quietly. Sometimes I wished Patty were in the room more so I wouldn't have so much temptation. After I got in bed, I realized all the exercise had brought out my physical side and I was dying to masturbate. I'd been trying my best not to do it two days in a row, but I kept having erotic thoughts and felt myself weakening. I finally decided to give in and was reaching my hand down, when I suddenly remembered: X might catch me!

Whenever I tried to masturbate lately, X caught me at it about half the time. I'd start humping in my bed on my tummy the way I always do, and when I got really close I'd be pretty oblivious until I suddenly realized I was in X's bedroom and he was watching me doing belly flops onto my hand. No matter what I'd been wearing when I started I'd be nude on X's bed without any bedclothes, and I'd feel intense shame getting caught in the act like that. Then X would make me get up and bend over the table, and I'd get twice as many spanks as I would if he didn't catch me until I reported myself on Saturday. And of course he'd double my spanking again if I tried to get off two days in a row, right after he fucked me on Saturday!

I didn't dare masturbate now. At least if I waited for Monday night, X wouldn't be so mad and I'd only get twenty spanks on Saturday if he didn't catch me at it. I started feeling even more turned on as I thought about X catching me, but I wasn't seriously tempted. I drifted off to sleep thinking sexy thoughts about X.

Monday morning I woke up at eight AM, feeling good. I remembered I'd been tempted to masturbate last night, but I'd somehow found the self-control to resist. I was getting so I never did it two days in a row anymore.

My first class was at eleven, but I had a dental appointment at nine-thirty, so after breakfast I spent some time looking through my diary until I had to leave. I noticed I'd written in my height and weight in late September: five-nine and 143 pounds.

That was wrong! I KNEW I'd lost four pounds since I started my diet in October, and I had a perfect recollection of a recent weighing at 143 pounds. Then I started getting confused as I realized I'd weighed 143 for two years. I couldn't remember any details about the recent weighing either. I thought I'd weighed on Saturday, but where? I couldn't be wrong about losing four pounds, could I?

It was time for my appointment, so I walked to the University medical building. My dentist was Dr. Petrosian, a wonderful old guy who reminded me of my Uncle Oscar. He acted like my uncle too, giving me advice on finding a job after graduation or maybe going on for an MBA. He was very smart and his advice was always detailed and useful, so I paid close attention.

"Ah, Miss. O'Connor!" he said as I entered his office. "Today we fit the final caps! And you still want me to provide your hypnotic key phrase, correct? Did you remember to bring your recorder?"

I'd originally come to Dr. Petrosian in late September when I learned I had to have all my wisdom teeth capped. I'd gotten referred to him because he used hypnosis, and I'd always hated the way novocaine made me feel. He'd said I was an excellent hypnotic subject, and that gave me the idea of using autohypnosis to help with studying. He was dubious at first, but finally agreed.

"Yes, for you I will do it! You are a levelheaded young woman. But there are rules!" The rules were obvious, that I shouldn't use hypnosis for anything that could harm me physically, like ordering myself not to eat so I could lose weight, and of course I agreed.

I got my recorder from my tote bag and sat down in the dentist chair. Dr. Petrosian handed me a piece of paper and told me to record what he'd written. I pressed Record, and read my key phrase, "Sredni Vashtar of Leningrad was cruel," obviously nothing anyone would say by accident. Then I read instructions to myself to remember everything I heard for two minutes, and told myself to wake up.

I rewound the tape, then leaned back in the chair and pressed Play, and forgot everything that happened for awhile, standard when I went under hypnosis. When I came out, Dr. Petrosian was looking at me closely, but when I grinned at him he seemed satisfied. He started reciting a long poem in Russian, and when he asked me to repeat it back, I found I could do it easily! He nodded as I quoted back, and at the end he looked at his watch before he spoke again. "Excellent!" he said. "Two minutes have passed, so you should be over this now. Say this back." He spoke in Russian for about five seconds, and I couldn't remember a thing at the end. He nodded again and said, "You shouldn't keep a perfect memory for too long a duration. People who remember everything become confused about what is important." I promised I'd be careful and then had a sudden thought. "You know I always forget everything that happens while I'm hypnotized. Could that be spreading somehow to my normal memory? I've been forgetting a lot of things lately."

Dr. Petrosian suddenly looked grave as he asked me how long this had been going on, and what I'd been forgetting. I flushed as I thought of my errant diaphragm and having no memory of masturbating. I told him they were trivial things, kind of embarrassing, and asked if he could just put me under and help me remember things I was forgetting without being explicit about what they were."

"Certainly! There is a good chance it will help!" He paused, then added, "And I will also give a command to wipe out any hypnotic effects that might have made you forget anything."

He put me under right away, and when I came out of it again I felt a little confused for a moment. Then I felt my face getting hot as I started recalling fragmentary memories of someone named X and some sexy things he'd done to me. I tried to make some sense of the memories, but there was just too much all at once and it was confusing. But very erotic!

"Are you all right, Miss. O'Connor?" Dr. Petrosian sounded concerned and I realized I was flushing extravagantly.

I was NOT going to tell Dr. Petrosian about this. My new memories seemed unreal to me, and I might need to ask his advice eventually, but these scenarios were simply too embarrassing to talk about right now. I needed a chance to think about them on my own first.

"I'm sorry," I answered. "As I said, it's just trivial stuff -- kind of embarrassing. I think I'm remembering things better now." Dr. Petrosian was still looking at me closely, and I made an effort to stop thinking about scenes with X and calm down. After a minute I felt more normal.

"If you're sure you're feeling well, perhaps I should put the caps on now."

Dr. Petrosian enjoyed his work, and I did my best to concentrate on dental details for awhile. By ten-thirty we were done, and as I walked with him from the dental office to the business office, I had a sudden, startling recollection.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," I said, trying to sound casual. "The . . . second time I came here there was a guy sitting at your desk doing something with your computer. Do you know who I mean?"

"A young man?" Dr. Petrosian asked after a moment's thought. "Dark hair? Rather tall?"

"Yes! He looked familiar. Is he in the University?"

"I believe you refer to Professor Easton. He was upgrading my database."

"He's a Professor?" I asked. He hadn't looked old enough!

"Yes, in the Computer Science Department I understand. He donated some of his time for computer-related needs in our medical department. A nice young man, I thought."

I wondered how nice he really was. Professor Easton looked like the man I thought of as X!

My erotic memories seemed so realistic as I walked out of the Medical building that I started feeling a little upset. I decided to cut my eleven o'clock class and go back to my room to think. When I got home I started my Web browser and linked to the CS Department, then the Home page for Professor Kevin Easton. His picture came up and I looked at it very carefully. I could swear that he and X were the same person! That is, if there really was someone called X and my memories had anything at all to do with reality! The Home page personal description said Easton received his Ph.D. last June, and was in his first year on the faculty as an Assistant Professor. So he had to be twenty-five or twenty-six, but he looked younger.

I closed my eyes and tried to marshal my recollections of X from disconnected fragments. I realized that when I concentrated on some specific event, I could slowly remember a temporal sequence around it, so I tried to focus on my meeting with X two days before. I recalled waking up late Saturday morning and rushing to get ready, putting in my diaphragm, then being transported to X's bedroom and having to strip for my weigh-in. I started flushing again as I remembered how embarrassed I'd been, especially when I had to bend over the table to get paddled. And then afterward I had a vivid body memory of X tantalizing me -- excruciatingly frustrating, but almost worth it when I recalled how wonderful it felt at the end!

Nothing like this could possibly have happened of course! I hadn't felt that kind of embarrassment about taking off my clothes in front of a boy since before I'd started dating, and there weren't any Star Trek transporters in my dorm as far as I knew. I suddenly remembered that I wasn't really transported instantaneously -- I'd walked to X's apartment! But that didn't really help, there was no reasonable explanation of why I had two different memories of how I'd gotten there. I'd heard hypnosis could make people remember things that never happened, and that must be what this was -- a sexual fantasy I'd made up myself. The paddling I got as a preliminary to sex clinched it. That was very erotic for me!

Back when I was an adolescent getting punished for my temper tantrums, I figured out how to masturbate the first time while my bottom was still sore from a paddling. I fixated on that feeling and started having fantasies about boys paddling me and then getting me off. After awhile getting paddled by a boy was the most important erotic element in my fantasies. I confided this to a friend when I was fifteen, but she told some other girls and they all started teasing me about it. I spent several months getting teased unmercifully, terrified that everyone in school would find out about my fantasies, and ending up completely traumatized. When it finally died down and I started dating, I could never tell the boys I knew about it, for fear the whole thing would start up again, with boys joining in teasing me this time. My paddling fantasies were the special needs I couldn't communicate, and they were so important to me that not being able to act them out with my boyfriends made me feel frustrated all the time, so I always broke off relationships by starting fights. I finally stopped accepting dates as a college sophomore to spare myself the frustration, even though that seemed to mean I'd never have a real relationship.

Then one day I was in a park, bending over to pick up some litter, and Vince strolled up behind me and swatted me on the behind. I could hardly believe a boy in California would do that, but when I looked up and saw his motorcycle jacket I realized political correctness wasn't a big issue for him. I thought he was cute though, and I felt kind of turned on so I started flirting with him. A little later while we were having coffee, I explained how I'd been paddled while I was a kid, and opened up more than I ever had with a boy at school by saying I still needed that sometimes. We started a relationship where he'd spank me and tease me a little before he'd come into me, and it was just as sexy as I'd always thought it would be.

After a few weeks of dating, when I felt PMS tension and tried to pick a fight with Vince, he put me over his knee and started a really hard spanking. I got angry and yelled at him -- I hadn't consented to this, and it was demeaning -- but then I began to feel intimidated by the pain, and he wouldn't quit until I apologized and promised to be good. A few minutes after that I got so horny I asked Vince to fuck me in the woods where we'd been walking. I expected him to find other reasons to spank me that way again soon, but he didn't. He just treated me like his girlfriend again, basically an equal if I didn't step out of line. After the second time I got a spanking for trying to start a fight, I realized I could RELAX with Vince because he knew how to deal with my temper! I'd never felt so happy in my life -- demeaning or not, this was a perfect relationship as far as I was concerned!

After Vince joined the army, I went back to feeling frustrated, masturbating twice a day until I started the regimen in October to make myself cut back. The thought of getting paddled still turned me on though, and my fantasy about X was one of the most erotic one I'd ever come up with. It seemed to explain some of my memory lapses -- my diaphragm moving, and not being able to remember masturbating. I never remembered anything about X after I calmed down, and I thought that was weird! Also, the fact that my diaphragm really moved meant I must be doing something with it. Maybe I even put it in and took it out again later without remembering! I began to worry that my fantasy about X was making me lose touch with reality.

I had a sudden thought that this might have something to do with trying to cut back masturbating to once a week. Maybe I was being too hard on myself! I decided to get myself off right away, since it would be silly to stick to my regimen under these circumstances. I walked over to my bed to put my plan into action, but then suddenly had the thought that this was a bad time. I didn't want to do this now. In fact all I really wanted was to get back on my normal schedule. It was nearly noon, so I decided to go to lunch and then attend my afternoon classes.

I came straight back to my room after my last class ended at four, and was suddenly aware of how aroused I was! I'd been remembering more details of my fantasies all afternoon, but I'd just ignored how wet and excited it made me because it seemed so important to keep to my regular schedule. Weird! And another thing: why did I change my mind after I made a rational decision to masturbate earlier? There was something . . . I remembered X saying . . .

If you want to get off when you can't contact me, you'll lose interest and go back to your regular schedule until you can.

Right! In my fantasy, I had to phone X whenever I decided to masturbate . . . but I wasn't aware of doing that. Then he'd usually tell me to put in my diaphragm and go to his apartment . . . and when I thought I was getting myself off in my room he'd really be inside me, fucking me! Or sometimes he'd catch me doing it, and punish me, then tantalize me until I could hardly stand it and fuck me at the end!

The memory explained why I'd lost interest earlier. I was acting out my imaginary scenario that I needed to be able to phone X! I was really losing touch! I had to see someone about this! It was too late today though; it would have to wait for tomorrow. Right now . . . I tried to remember if my fantasy allowed me to get myself off after class, and decided the only way to find out was to try. As soon as I decided, I felt a thrill of fear that X would catch me at it! I tried to ignore it -- the fantasy had too much of a hold on me, and I didn't need a fantasy to get off anyway the way I was feeling. I started unbuttoning my skirt, and ten seconds later found myself with the phone in my hand, keying in a number.

I stopped, horrified, and just managed to keep from pressing the last two digits on the keypad. But I couldn't put the phone down, and I wanted to finish keying the number I'd started.

I'm not going to masturbate! I thought suddenly. I'll wait until later!

After a moment I was able to put the phone down, but I was really frightened now! Was I just acting out an imaginary scenario, or had Kevin Easton really done something to me? Was it possible he'd found a way to hypnotize me, the only way I could think of to control me like this?

YES! He'd been in Dr. Petrosian's office upgrading the database! If Dr. Petrosian kept his key phrases for his patients in his database . . .

I felt a sinking feeling -- I could see it was possible now. Kevin could have hypnotized me and invented the "X" fantasy where I'd go over to his apartment when I felt horny. He'd made me believe it was natural while it was happening -- like there was nothing weird about being paddled and sexually molested by some mysterious guy. And when I was in a more normal frame of mind, I never remembered anything about it. Until now. But suddenly I felt unsure again. I didn't have any evidence this had really happened, other than my own dubious memories.

Then I realized I knew a couple of phone numbers and a schedule of times X could be contacted. I wrote everything down on a slip of paper, then connected to Kevin Easton's Home page again. The number I'd just tried to phone was his office, and this was supposed to be a contact time for that number, so I took a moment to nerve myself up, then dialed it. After two rings I heard an answering male voice I remembered from my fantasies and hung up, trembling.

I hadn't seen the other phone number on his Home page, and when I looked for his name in the telephone directory I didn't find it. I dialed the number I remembered and waited through four rings until I heard Kevin's voice telling me to leave a message. I hung up and thought for a minute, then dialed information and asked for the home number for Kevin Easton. I even remembered an address, but said I wasn't sure it was right. The operator came back and told me it was an unlisted number.

So it was true then! I couldn't have known Kevin's home phone number if he hadn't told me.

I suddenly had a horrible realization! Kevin's compulsions still worked on me -- I couldn't masturbate without phoning him! Maybe he phoned me at a certain time every day and I had a compulsion to answer the phone so he could take control of me! I looked at the clock and it was four-thirty, a good time since I was always in my room about now. And Kevin might be suspicious about the hang-up call I'd just made! God! If he found out what I'd learned he could just make me forget everything! I'd be his slave again!

I felt a sudden panicky need to do something to escape his control. I became more and more frightened, and I was whimpering with fear before I finally thought to pull the phone jack from the wall! After that, I gradually got myself under control as I convinced myself Kevin couldn't control me now without coming to my room in person. I was safe for the moment, but what could I do next? He MIGHT come to my room if he couldn't reach me by phone! I suddenly remembered my autohypnosis, and I scrabbled in my tote bag to get my recorder and the sheet of directions Dr. Petrosian gave me. My hands were trembling so much I could hardly read the sheet, but after a minute I thought I saw what to do. I pressed the record button and gave myself commands in a quavering voice that I'd no longer feel the need to carry out any hypnotic compulsions I'd received from anyone. I thought for a second, then added that from now on no key phrase would put me under hypnosis, unless it was my regular key phrase spoken in my own voice from my own recorder. I couldn't think of anything else, so I ended the recording by telling myself to wake up.

I rewound the cassette, sat back in my chair, and pushed the play button. When I woke up, the cassette was a couple of minutes in and I stopped it. Was I safe now? I thought a moment, then got out my address book and reconnected the phone to dial Dr. Petrosian's office. A secretary said Dr. Petrosian was gone for the day, but I could reach him by phone tomorrow, between ten and eleven.

I disconnected the phone again, and realized there was something else I could try. I hesitated, then let myself start thinking again about wanting to masturbate. I tried to take my time and let my decision to do it form as slowly as possible. When I started taking off my clothes, thinking about what I was going to do in a minute, I still hadn't felt that thrill of fear that X might catch me. I went over to my bed and lay down on my tummy, started touching myself, and then lost control completely. I reached orgasm in about two minutes, and during the last minute I was fantasizing about X catching me and giving me a good paddling. Traitorous libido! When I was done I saw the phone jack still lying on the floor where I'd left it, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

After I got dressed, I went to sit at my desk and think. After about fifteen minutes I realized I was shaking with anger about what Kevin Easton had done to me. When Patty got home, I tried to get my mind off it as I joined her for dinner, but it didn't work. I hurried through the meal and returned to my room, where I obsessed for hours about finding a way to take revenge on Kevin. Around nine I tried to do some homework, but I couldn't concentrate, and the paper I wrote wasn't worth my usual A. That made me even angrier, since I'm a scholarship student and need to keep my grades up. My parents don't have much money: librarians and schoolteachers can barely afford to pay a mortgage in Los Angeles.

Tuesday morning I gave up trying to work, and concentrated on how to deal with Kevin. I'd decided to confront him as soon as I was sure he couldn't take control of me again. At ten, I called Dr. Petrosian and told him I was thinking about doing some experiments with autohypnosis and needed his help. It wasn't covered by my health plan but I offered to pay for his time. Dr. Petrosian laughed at payment, saying he could always find time for a young person with a questing mind. I felt guilty to be fooling him when he gave me a three-thirty appointment.

When I got to Dr. Petrosian's office, I'd come up with a list of illusions I wanted him to try on me. He needed to put me under hypnosis several times and bring me out again to check the effects, and at the end I thanked him as nicely as I could and said I might want to come back again sometime. He said he'd look forward to it, and I left the session happy. Dr. Petrosian's use of my key phrase hadn't put me under once, and the illusions he'd suggested had no effect either.