The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I think David and I liked each other on sight. We met in the waiting area at a Riggs Bank branch downtown. We were waiting to meet with the loan officer, who of course was running behind schedule. At first we were silent, David shuffling through a stack of handwritten notes and me looking through my business plan one more time, rehearsing in my mind the presentation I was about to make.

Soon the tension and the boredom got to both of us. I looked up to see a pair of cool, gentle gray eyes studying my face. “The way I see it,” he began, “we have a couple of choices here. We can ignore each other, we can continue examining our paperwork as if we hadn’t already done that a million times, or we can pass the time in pleasant small talk.”

I liked his style right away. Very sincere, not too earnest or anxious. “Talk is nice.”

He had a beautiful smile. “Yes, it is. My name is David.”

The hand he offered me was firm but not aggressive, communicating a quiet self confidence that I found very enticing. “Jennifer Drake. Call me Jen.”

Before long the conversation had drifted to the reasons we were sitting in a loan officer’s waiting room. I explained that I was two years out of business school, had a love of photography and wanted to start my own studio. I had a reasonable amount of cash in hand and was looking for a business loan to help get me started. David was also looking to open a photography studio, having spent several years on the staff of a well-known high fashion magazine. He’d been socking away as much money as he could, taking freelance work at every chance and living well below his means. He already had a studio site picked out and was hoping his loan would be approved so he could set up shop.

I noticed he had a portfolio with him and asked to see it. Flipping through the pages, I was struck by the nature of many of the photos. Sure, there were magazine covers of supermodels here and there but most of the photos were of ordinary people. They were not ordinary photos—every one had an unmistakable aura about it, that feeling of looking into another person’s soul. And looking at them that way, these people seemed far from ordinary.

“This is amazing work,” I told him, still discovering new wonders with each page turned.

“You think so? Which ones do you like most?”

I finished flipping through the portfolio. “I’d say there are probably a dozen pictures in here that any gallery would love to display. I think my favorites are the old man in the park, the Little Leaguer, and the construction workers perched on top of the building frame. They speak to me somehow.”

When I looked up, he was nodding in agreement. “Those are my favorites too. The way I see it, anybody can take a good picture of Kathy Ireland. The challenge is to take an average person and make the camera see them as extraordinary.”

Just then the loan officer’s door opened and man walked out, still nervously clutching his briefcase. The receptionist motioned me into the office. “Think you can make the money man see me as extraordinary?”

His pale gray eyes locked onto mine and I could almost feel him studying me, like an art student at the Louvre. Then he broke off, smiling, and replied “If he doesn’t see that himself, he has no soul.”

I can’t vouch for the loan officer’s soul, but after a painstaking review of my application and finances he didn’t seem to find my business plan too extraordinary. He was polite and professional, but his body language and tone of voice were not encouraging. He promised to get back with me in a few days.

When I left, David was still waiting. I answered his inquisitive look with a shake of the head and kept on walking, anxious to get away into the fresh air.

Fortunately I had a busy schedule for the next few days. A wedding party, including rehearsal dinner and reception, occupied most of my weekend. Monday morning I was looking through the negatives from the wedding when the phone rang. I picked it up out of habit, my attention still on the light board. “Jennifer Drake.”

“Miss Drake, this is Tom Mallick from Riggs. If you have a minute, I’d like to discuss your loan application with you.”

Something in his voice got my attention. “Sure, Mr. Mallick. What do you have in mind?”

He cleared his throat. “First of all, I have to confess that this is highly irregular, but I think that if you just keep an open mind for a few minutes this may turn out to be a good thing.”

“Are you telling me that my loan is approved, Mr. Mallick?”

He paused a little too long. “Not per se, Miss Drake. I’m sorry, but your business plan just doesn’t meet our capitalization requirements. The committee feels that without more liquid assets the risk is too great.”

It was what I’d been expecting to hear until a few seconds ago, but it was still disappointing. “Then why are we still talking, Mr. Mallick?”

“That’s the highly irregular part. Perhaps you noticed the gentleman who had the appointment after you, Mr. Price.”

“I remember him. He showed me his portfolio. What does that have do to with my application?”

“Mr. Price is in a similar position, at least as regards his application. If I may say so, he lacks your business skills but he does seem very creative.” I remembered the cardboard folder stuffed with note paper that David had been looking through in the waiting room. “The committee rejected his application as well. When I spoke to him this morning, he asked me about you. Naturally I couldn’t reveal any details about your case, but I did admit to him that I thought the committee was unlikely to approve your application without some changes. He then asked me for your name and telephone number. It is bank policy not to give out personal information about our clients, but Mr. Price did authorize me to give his address and phone number to you and ask that you contact him. He has a proposal which, if you are amenable to it, would cast your application into a much more favorable light. I can’t commit firmly, of course, but in my opinion his proposal more than meets the criteria for approval.”

Butterflies started churning in my stomach as I took down David’s name, address and phone number. My hand was trembling a little as I dialed the phone—was that because of the possibility of getting my loan, or of looking into those fascinating eyes again? A little of both, I had to confess.

“Hello.”

“David Price? This is Jennifer Drake. Mr. Mallick said you wanted to talk to me?”

I heard him sigh deeply. “Jen, I’m so glad you called. I need to see you. Can you meet me for lunch?”

“Not today, I’m on a deadline.” A lie; I learned long ago that if people think you are busy they are more likely to respect your time. “How about Wednesday at one?”

“Sold. Do you know where the Toledo Grill is?” He gave me directions and we agreed to meet there. I tried to broach the subject of his “proposal” but he wanted to present it in person.

That night I dreamt that I was a model and David was taking my picture. I kept staring into his eyes while he told me how beautiful I was, making me feel like the sexiest woman alive. He took shot after shot, then put down his camera, folded his arms around me and kissed me. He was a great kisser and I was happy to return the embrace, letting my tongue dance with his while I pressed my body against him. I felt his hands sliding downward, coming to rest in the small of my back. I pressed myself even more closely to him and started stroking his thigh with my right hand. I could feel him getting harder and harder, so I started exploring more boldly, rubbing the bulge in his pants. His hands dropped to my bottom and pulled me closer, his hands reaching under the folds of my short cocktail dress.

I was soaking wet and ready to devour this man. I stopped stroking the front of his pants and unbuckled his belt instead, then unzipped him and let his pants fall to the floor. As I started unbuttoning his shirt, his hands grabbed onto the hem of my dress and pulled it up over my head. I wasn’t wearing a bra, so while I finished unbuttoning him he caressed my very aroused breasts. Soon one of his hands slid down my body and inside the satin panties which were all I was still wearing. I had his hot, rigid cock in my hand and was squeezing it rhythmically, getting him ready to penetrate me. Finally he laid me down on the floor, pulled off my panties, and thrust himself deeply into me. I squeezed him hard with my pelvic muscles as he worked himself in and out, and I could hear his grunts as he got closer to orgasm. My own climax was only a few seconds away, I could feel it starting ...

... and then I woke up panting, dripping wet, more aroused than I’d ever been in my life—and completely alone. I closed my eyes again and imagined his kind face, his amazing eyes, as my hand slipped down into my slit and finished what the dream had started.

The next day and a half blew by before I really got a chance to notice them. Mostly I spent the hours catching up on errands—dry cleaning, grocery shopping, cleaning up the darkroom. All of the little things that people do when they are waiting for something to happen.

The Toledo Grill turned out to be a nice place, tastefully decorated, with lots of space between the smaller tables to give a sense of privacy. American cuisine with a touch of Tex/Mex (and presumably Ohio), not overly fancy but very satisfying. David was waiting for me inside. He looked completely at ease in his khakis and knit shirt. I had dressed for business in a heather gray skirt with matching blazer and cream colored blouse. He came forward to greet me, hand outstretched.

“Thanks so much for coming. I know this must all seem a little strange.”

“I’ve been propositioned by stranger men, Mr. Price.” A little forward, but I needed to know what he had in mind. His mouth turned upward into a friendly smile.

“I’ve no doubt. But this is not that kind of proposition. And please call me David.”

He pulled out my chair for me, then sat across the small table from me. The waiter took our beverage order (Diet Coke for me, iced tea for David) and left us to our menus.

Time to get started, I thought to myself. “So, David, why don’t you tell me about the proposal you and Mr. Mallick have worked up?”

“I will, I promise. Let’s have lunch first, though. It’ll give us a chance to get a little more comfortable with each other. We can talk business afterward.”

Lunch was delicious. We made small talk as we ate, discussing everything from the weather to the dismal performance of the local baseball team. We even touched lightly on politics, just enough to see that we seem to share a lot of common ground there. And as we talked, I could almost see him visibly relaxing. His body language became broader, more open, and his smile came and went freely. I found myself relaxing too as the lunch went on. Most men I know don’t listen well, but David was a natural at it. By the time our plates were cleared I was completely at ease with him.

“Are you going to proposition me now?” I asked, still trying to get a rise out of him. I could tell he liked me, and I had been flirting more or less openly throughout lunch but he wouldn’t call me on it.

“Sure. I think I’m ready now.” He told me about his interview with Mr. Mallick, then the rejection phone call Monday morning. I knew about most of that already and I found myself only half listening, the other half studying his face. His eyes were locked onto mine, shining fiercely as he got closer to the crux of his plan. “So basically, we were both turned down for not having enough start-up money already in hand. Mallick told me that if I increased my own capital stake, they would be much more likely to approve the loan. He even suggested that I find a partner with a business background to make me more appealing to the money men. That’s when I thought of you.

“If we were to become partners and start a studio together, I’m sure we would be able to get Riggs to help finance us. I’ve got equipment, a location, and a few contacts in the business that can help us find quality work. You’ve got a first-class business mind and a great eye. If we pool our resources, we can both get what we want.”

The idea was certainly intriguing. I spent several minutes contemplating my Diet Coke, thinking about how a partnership with this man might be. I thought about the portfolio I saw at the bank, and the riveting nature of those photos struck me anew. Then I thought about my own personal dreams, the ones where I am in my studio doing my kind of photography. Finally, I sighed and met those eyes again.

“I don’t think it would work out, David.” I could see his chest fall a little as he released a held breath. “The kind of work you do, it’s breathtaking and compelling and exciting to look at. There are tons of people who dream of being able to take pictures like that. But I’m not one of them. My idea of a good time is Team Photo Day with a youth soccer league. I like doing portraits, reunions, weddings, what have you. I’m in it for the memories.”

He was nodding to himself. “I respect that, Jen. The whole point of becoming your own boss is to be able to do things your own way. I’ve been doing high fashion for several years now and believe me, the thrill is gone. I’d love to do some weddings, maybe a yearbook or two, and perhaps an occasional magazine spread. The variety keeps things fresh. It’s also good business.

“Do you realize how difficult it is to make any money doing just portraits and events? Think about it—how often do most people get married? How many class reunions do they go to? How often do they come in and actually buy a portrait package? In order to pay the bills you have to keep digging up new customers every day. And the competition for those customers is murderous with all the chain outlets.

“But I’ve got leads into a whole other tier of clients, Jen. Ad agencies. Interior decorators. Book publishers. They pay well and, more importantly, they like to form relationships with a studio. That means repeat business, which means better cash flow, which means we can do more of the kind of work we enjoy. And we can do it on our terms, knowing that the rent is covered.”

He laid out the numbers for me, sketching on a napkin as he explained what assets he had to offer. His enthusiasm was infectious—soon I was scribbling on the napkin too, figuring the relative costs and potential revenues, total assets, the whole bag. In the end, I changed my mind and agreed to the partnership. We went to a lawyer I knew and had the formal agreements drawn up. Within a month we had received the loan from Riggs and were opening our new studio.

The first year was rough. Our primary competition was the franchise studios, where all they do is snap the picture and sell packages of prints—the franchise handles promotion, processing, and just about everything else to get economies of scale. Then there were the department stores, which mostly were the same chains neatly tucked in near the store entrance and always running a dirt cheap offer to get people in the door, which then gives them the chance to do a selling job. Since we couldn’t compete on price we tried to stress value and quality, but it’s always a tough sell when the chain studio down the street can offer everything we do, but at less than our cost. The Riggs people had been right—if I’d started out on my own as planned, my studio wouldn’t have survived the year.

Fortunately for us, David’s contacts came through. An couple of ad agencies offered us short jobs and liked our work enough to talk about it. Word of mouth brought us a trickle of additional trial assignments, which by year’s end had become a steady if narrow stream. Although we still ended the year in the red, the trend was looking healthy as long as we could keep growing the commercial side.

On the personal front things were less encouraging, as the relationship between us stayed friendly but professional. David was a puzzle: quiet, but not shy; friendly, but not really outgoing; firm, but not aggressive; confident, but never vain. He would speak frankly on just about any subject, but seldom volunteered anything beyond what was asked. That was especially true about himself, I was to discover.

About two months into our business relationship, a woman called the office asking for David. She gave her name as Stephanie. David spoke with her for a few minutes, scribbled something in his calendar, and hung up.

“Who was that?” I asked, figuring it must be a client.

“My girlfriend,” he replied, as if this was no big surprise. “She’ll be in town tomorrow, and she’s planning to swing by here a little before closing and take me away for the evening. We’re not that busy tomorrow, it shouldn’t hurt anything.”

But wait, as the infomercials say, there’s more. When Stephanie did come over the next day, I recognized her immediately—her face and body were on magazine covers and advertisements all over town. She’d even been on the Letterman show recently. It was then that I decided David must be an alien; no red-blooded American male could be involved with Stephanie and not talk about it. Most would have “I AM DATING A SUPERMODEL” tattooed on their foreheads.

Eventually I rejected the alien theory and decided that David must be something even more unusual—a man so totally comfortable with himself that he honestly doesn’t need anyone else’s approval. He just accepts everybody as his peer, whether they seem inclined to do the same or not. There are a lot of men who think they are like that, and they spend large amounts of energy and time making sure everyone they meet agrees with them. David is the genuine article. And he was already taken. I became resigned to the situation. How do you compete with a cover girl?

As time went on, Stephanie proved to be the definitive absentee girlfriend, calling up on short notice for a date every once in a while, but seldom in touch otherwise. Weeks would go by with no contact from her, then out of the blue she would turn up and whisk David away for a night or a weekend before vanishing again. He deserved better, I thought, but really had no options to work with. David would never cheat, it’s not in his character. When I remarked on how little they saw each other, he reminded me that at Stephanie’s level models are ‘in’ for only a short time, and they need to take full advantage before a younger, prettier face comes along. There was no reason I could see for Stephanie to dump David; he was always available and never criticized. So I wrote him off as unavailable and told myself that at least I had him as a friend. I dated some other guys in a half-hearted sort of way, but none of them lasted long. They could probably tell I was just marking time.

Exactly a year after our first lunch, David and I went back to the Toledo Grill. It had become our favorite place to go when we needed to get out of the studio. The casual atmosphere and feeling of privacy were highly conducive to free thinking. We had many long strategy sessions in there—so many that the wait staff routinely sets our usual table with notepad and pencils.

We had an anniversary toast with our lunch, with the Toledo staff singing “Happy Birthday” to us. It was corny, but sweet. With our plates removed and glasses refilled it was time to get started on the day’s topic, how to improve our cash flow. We must have kicked around a dozen different ideas, but by the time we were through there were only two standouts.

The first good idea was mine. The business volume had picked up just enough that we were spending a lot of time in the darkroom instead of with the clients. The obvious answer was to hire a photo processor but the money just wasn’t there. A business seminar I’d been to recently got me thinking about outsourcing most of the processing work.

At first, David was doubtful. “If we don’t do our own processing, isn’t that a step backward for us?”

“Not necessarily. I met someone at the seminar, his name is Russell, and he owns a small photo processing business. He has all the latest equipment and systems, stuff we can’t even afford to window shop for, and he uses it to do premium quality processing. He showed me some samples and it’s amazing what he can do with even a department store negative. Let’s at least give it a try, it could really help keep down the expenses.”

“Okay, I’m game,” David replied. “In fact, it fits in nicely with my idea for a new revenue stream. How would you feel about doing boudoir portraits?”

I was so surprised I spilled soda on my notepad. I’d spent most of the year putting David and sex as far apart in my mind as I could, and now here he was talking about doing portraits of women in lingerie. He read my expression accurately.

“I know, it sounds pretty wild. It was actually Gina who gave me the idea.” Gina was an ex-coworker of David’s, one of the many people who had risked sending business our way. “She called me last week and asked if we do boudoir. Apparently it’s fashionable right now, people are putting out big bucks for high-quality sexy pictures of themselves. The chains won’t touch it and most small shops don’t have the equipment or know-how for premium processing, so the margins are healthy. There would be some start-up costs, of course—building a set, wardrobe, a little minor hardware. But if we can farm out the processing to your guy Russell we can try it out, see if we want to do it before we commit cash to retooling the darkroom.”

I didn’t know much about boudoir at the time and neither did David, so we decided to do some more research. We went through back issues of trade magazines, surfed the Internet, talked to some colleagues. After a couple of days, it was clear that the money potential was for real—some of the studios I found on the Web advertised obscene sitting fees and were booked months in advance. Boudoir is a specialty done almost exclusively by specialty firms and medium-sized studios, so there were no chains driving the prices down. From a business perspective, it made sense if we could do it well. The logical next step was a trial.

Gina arranged for the subject, an aspiring model named Lauren who was trying to get the attention of a nationwide lingerie chain. Lauren’s appointment was for two o’clock in the afternoon. We thought we were ready for the shoot when Gina stopped by at twelve thirty to check out our preparations.

Gina turned out to be a tall, full-figured woman in her mid 40’s, with long black hair and a friendly way about her. We spent a few minutes on pleasant small talk, then Gina asked for the studio tour. David and I showed her the set we had pulled together. The dominant piece was a rosewood four-poster queen size bed complete with satin sheets and extra large pillows. We covered the studio floor with an oriental style rug and the wall behind the bed with a folding privacy screen. I had a 30-day return window on the sheets and pillows, everything else was rented for the occasion.

Gina nodded approvingly at our setup. “This looks very good for a first set. A little small, maybe, but it’s a start. If you decide to do this seriously, try to enlarge the set so there is room for a sofa, a vanity and maybe a full-length mirror. Different people are more comfortable in different places. It would also be a good idea to have a couple of changes of look—different bedding, maybe a small flower arrangement, so you can change the look to suit the client.”

I was impressed. “You sound like the voice of experience, Gina. Have you done boudoir?”

A big, broad grin spread over her face. “Several times, dear, but not from your side of the camera.”

“Really?” For some reason that surprised me. “Why do it?”

“Why not?” she answered. “It makes you feel deliciously randy for days, and you get the added thrill of watching your man’s eyes bug out when he sees the prints. Every once in a while I mail a new picture to my husband at his office; for a week afterwards he comes home on time, helps with the dishes and will jump my bones at the drop of a hat. You should try it sometime.”

“Doesn’t if make you feel kind of ... well, sleazy?” That was my one misgiving about this project, I wanted things to be in good taste.

Gina laughed a low, measured laugh. “Everybody has a different idea of what’s sleazy, dear. If you take an average woman, undress her and tell her to act sexy while some stranger points a zoom lens at her privates, I can guarantee you she will feel sleazy and never come back. But when it’s done well, a boudoir shoot is a private, erotic experience for the model. The key is get the model to relax and be herself, and to think about her lover and what turns them on. Rule One is that the more you get your model to relax, the better she will look on film. Everything you say or do in the presence of the model should be calculated to make her feel comfortable and safe. Everything she wears and does on the set should be her own idea, or a suggestion that she chooses to take because it sounds good. Be professional, earn her trust, and nobody will feel used when it’s over.”

We continued into the makeshift dressing room. Gina clicked her tongue in disappointment at our negligee choices. I was crestfallen—David and I had solicited all of our female friends to lend us their most revealing nightwear, but apparently it wasn’t satisfactory. “What’s wrong?” David asked.

“What you have here is an impressive collection of odd patches, strings and peek-a-boo lace. The kind of stuff men buy for their girlfriends and then wonder why they only wear it once. Very few women have both the figure and the poise to be comfortable in these. With wardrobe, variety is vital. Rule Two is that no matter how much skin you see, it’s still the model’s eyes that make or break the picture. If she feels even slightly insecure about what she is or isn’t wearing, it will show up in her eyes.”

Things continued in that vein for another half hour as Gina examined our setups and dispensed advice freely. She didn’t hesitate to offer criticism when it seemed appropriate, but she was very nice about it and was trying to help us succeed. In the end I was glad she had come.

With the facilities approved (at least provisionally), Gina then suggested that we do a simulated session using her as the model to rehearse the process. Gina clearly knew more about it than both of us put together, so we quickly agreed.

The first step is makeup and costume. Since the clients are almost always women, we assumed that I would be the one to work with the client on outfit selection, makeup and hair styling and that David would be the primary photographer. “But both of you need to work together on the set,” Gina cautioned us. “Never leave a model alone with David, Jen. Some women—and some men—get so turned on by the whole process that they take it too far. If that happens, your presence protects David and the business from an ugly lawsuit.”

“But I’d never do anything with a model,” David objected. “You know that.”

“Of course I do. I also know that some people take rejection very personally. You need a witness and a chaperone to keep things under control.” David nodded his agreement.

I led Gina back to the changing area, where she looked again through the collection of nightwear we had assembled, this time picking out a few things that she thought Lauren might choose. To save time we didn’t do any actual costume change or makeup, we simply discussed what I would do with Gina’s face given her coloring. She seemed satisfied with that.

Next she came out to the set to be photographed. David used an empty camera as a prop, moving around her silently as she pretended to pose and saying “click” when he wanted to take a picture. After a few minutes she called a halt.

“There’s too much activity and not enough engagement here, David. Rule Three is to keep talking with the model. Conversation keeps her animated; if you stop talking to her, her mind will wander and that will come out in the photo. If you talk between yourselves but not to the model, she will feel like a prop and lose the mood.”

So we spent several minutes more in mock shoot, only this time David spent the time between shots telling Gina how beautiful she was, asking if she was comfortable, did she want to try something different, etc. “That’s better, dear. The most important thing is to keep it light and friendly, to keep your model at ease. Questions should be simple ones with short answers, no essays. Ask her about the person who will see the photos, what she likes about them, what turns them on. It’s okay to suggest poses, but stick close to what she seems to like.

“And David, I know you love to play with angles, but you can’t keep circling the model like a vulture. Rule Four is that the model should be in motion and the camera should be still. That way she always knows where you are and can easily control how much or how little you see. It’s disconcerting to have someone moving all around while they talk to you.” We practiced a little more, then when Gina said it felt right we finished preparing for the real shoot.

Lauren arrived promptly at two. She was clearly nervous but tried gamely to return my welcoming smile. As I expected, she was a very pretty young lady—barely 21, average height but small at the shoulders, bust and hips. She had rich, deep auburn hair and, as so many redheads have, a very pale complexion with signs of a tendency toward freckles. Her features were sharp and elegant, with clear blue eyes hinting at more intelligence than most people expect from a model. Figuring she probably needed a few minutes to settle down, I engaged her in small talk while David finished loading the cameras and checking the lights. We stayed in the empty reception area, I didn’t want her anticipating things too much.

Once all was ready, Gina brought David out to the reception area and introduced him to Lauren. David greeted her warmly with just the right amount of eye contact, which seemed to put her more at ease. Eventually Lauren pronounced herself ready to start, so Gina and I took her back to the dressing room. I saw her head turn and the nervous look reappear as she got her first look at the set, and made a mental note to myself to rearrange things to prevent that in the future.

Lauren took her time picking through the wardrobe choices, a vaguely unhappy look clouding her face. Gina was right, I thought, she isn’t finding anything she likes. After long study she settled on a classic black teddy, smooth and very sheer in the front but with enough pattern in the lace to keep her nipples and pubic area semi-concealed. It was cut for a slight woman so it fit Lauren’s body nicely; Gina and I could tell, though, that she was a little uncomfortable being so exposed. “I’ve never worked without clothes before,” she confided. “Not even swimsuits.”

A few finishing touches on her hair and makeup and Lauren was ready. Gina and I walked her to the set where David greeted her warmly, telling her how stunning she looked. Lauren smiled nervously, her arms remaining close to her body and fingers intertwined. David told her to choose any position she wanted to start with, so she walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs and hunching her shoulders a little, which emphasized her cleavage.

From there, David and I pretty much took over with some helpful suggestions from Gina. We had Lauren make small, incremental posture changes. Soon we had established a simple rhythm—change the pose, say something comforting to Lauren, snap the picture, repeat. Occasionally I would step into frame to adjust Lauren’s outfit or move a pillow between shots. Gina watched from behind David, giving her a sight line very close to the camera’s. Technically it was all working smoothly, but it didn’t feel quite right. Like a band in rehearsal, everyone was playing their part but it wasn’t blending together. David seemed dissatisfied too. Finally he called for a break, suggesting that Lauren go back to the dressing room and pick a different outfit. As soon as she was out of earshot, David turned to me.

“Rule One,” he said. “She’s not relaxed, she’s not comfortable. She’s posing like a robot. We have got to get her to loosen up and enjoy this or there’s no point continuing.”

Gina nodded in agreement. “Lauren is still very new to modeling. I’m afraid she isn’t comfortable with traipsing around half naked in front of strangers yet.”

“Don’t apologize for that,” I told Gina. “If we are going to do this, the models we work with will pretty much all be amateurs. We have to be able to make them comfortable.”

“That’s nothing a double bourbon and coke won’t cure,” David offered half-jokingly. “Maybe we should get her sloshed and try again.”

Something clicked in the back of my mind. “That gives me an idea. Get ready for another series, David. I’ll get Lauren ready. Gina, just stay back and watch, okay?”

“What’s the plan?” David asked.

“I know a way to get Lauren to loosen up, if I still have the knack. Trust me.”

I found Lauren in the dressing room, still looking through the negligee collection. She had taken off the teddy and was holding a gold chemise to her front. It was clearly too big for her but it provided some cover while she looked through the rack one more time. “I’m having a little trouble finding something,” she said uncertainly. “I’m not used to things like this.”

“Maybe we should try a different approach. What do you normally wear to bed?”

“I have a couple of oversized nightshirts, I usually wear one of those and underpants if I’m going to bed by myself. Otherwise, well, nothing.” She blushed a little bit.

“Why don’t you put your own panties back on? I’ll be right back.”

I walked out of the dressing room, past the set into David’s and my office. What I wanted was still there on a hanger—one of David’s spare shirts. We each had a change of clothes in the office in case we spilled something in the darkroom. David had two shirts in the closet. The one I chose was a light sky blue, thick and soft like flannel, with subtle white pinstripes and short sleeves. It felt smooth like a light blanket, and was about 3 sizes too large for Lauren. Perfect.

“Try this,” I said as I handed Lauren the shirt.

Her eyes lit up immediately and she eagerly slipped her arms into it. She skipped the bottom buttons and just buttoned the area from her waist to her bust, leaving the tail loose. She tucked her face into the open collar space and inhaled deeply. “Mmmmmmm,” she said. “I love it. But is it sexy enough?”

“If you feel sexy it will come through no matter what you wear. Do you feel sexy?”

Lauren thought about it for a moment. “Not really. I mean, I feel better than I did when we were shooting, but I think maybe I was trying too hard. It didn’t feel like me.” She hugged the oversized shirt to her chest. “This feels like me.”

“Then that’s what we’ll go with,” I promised. “You’re right, it’s hard to feel sexy when you are constantly thinking about how to move, where to touch, where to look. Let’s try something here and see if it helps. I want to take you through a breathing exercise, something that will help you focus your mind and decompress a little bit.”

“You mean like yoga?” she asked. “I’ve never done it, but I have a friend who says it’s very relaxing.”

“Sure” I replied, stretching the truth a little. “Only without the complicated positions. We’ll do this just sitting in the makeup chair.” The makeup chair in our makeshift changing room was just a regular low-back office chair with a throw over it; I hoped it would be comfortable enough for what I had in mind. My chances seemed better in the semi-privacy of this room than if I tried having her lie down on the bed in front of the camera and lights.

Lauren slipped into the makeup chair and spun to face me. “What do I do?”

I instructed Lauren to turn around. “Face the mirror for this exercise, Lauren. I want you to look at your reflection carefully, notice every detail about your face and head. And while you do this, I want you to take three deep, slow breaths. With each inhale, I want you to imagine that you are breathing in fresh, clean, healthy air that relaxes you and makes you feel good. With each exhale, I want you to imagine that you are breathing out a dark cloud of anxiety, fear, and shame. Do that for me now please and you will see your reflection relaxing with you.”

“Okay.” She took a long breath as instructed, held it a few seconds, then exhaled even more slowly. Even through David’s shirt I could see the tension leaving her shoulders and upper arms. By the third exhale her head started to droop down, but she lifted it back up again. This may just work, I thought.

“Very good, Lauren. How do you feel?”

“Much better, thanks. That’s a very nice exercise.”

“That was only a warm-up,” I told her. “To get you ready for the real exercise. Are you ready to feel even better than you do now?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Okay then. Continue to face the mirror. Now look deeply into the reflection of your eyes. Concentrate on your eyes, let them become fixed on the eyes you see in the mirror. Pretend you are trying to hypnotize yourself.” Oops—bad choice of words, I thought, but Lauren didn’t seem to mind. I lowered my voice and stood just behind her chair. My eye caught a movement in the doorway as Gina started in. I waved her back to the doorway, afraid the movement would distract Lauren. Gina backed up but continued to watch from the doorway. As long as she didn’t interfere, no problem.

“Very good, Lauren, you are concentrating well. Now, as you continue to lose yourself in your own eyes, you will soon become more aware of your breathing. You will feel your chest rise and fall, again and again, and soon you will notice that your breathing is starting to slow down. As you feel yourself breathing in, you find that each breath serves to calm you and each time you breath out you will feel your body relaxing a little more. Pay close attention to your breathing and feel it becoming deeper, slower, easier with every breath.”

Gina had reentered the room, quietly easing herself into another chair with a view of the mirror. She seemed fascinated but I was glad she did not start asking questions at that point. I gave Lauren half a minute or so before continuing. “Yes. You are still focused on the reflection of your eyes, and now you are aware of how much more smoothly and easily you are breathing. At any moment now, you will become aware of your heart beating inside your chest. You feel the slight thumping of your pulse as your heart does its work. If you concentrate, you will find that you can slow down your own heart beat just a little, relaxing, slowing down, little by little. Try it now, you’ll see that you can do it. Keep breathing, evenly and slowly, and feel your heartbeat slowing down. Just a little at a time, slowing down, relaxing even as your body relaxes. So calm, so peaceful, slowing so gently.”

In the mirror, Lauren’s eyes were starting to glaze over. The faintest ghost of a smile showed at the corners of her mouth. In the mirror I could just catch the reflection of Gina’s wide-eyed stare.

“You are well on your way to total relaxation now,” I continued, letting my voice become even softer and speaking very slowly. “Your breathing is slow and smooth, your heart beats slowly, and you are still concentrating on your own eyes. Keep that focus. It’s okay to blink, but do not let your eyes wander. As you continue to concentrate on all of these things, you can notice your body continuing to relax in sections. Even now you feel the muscles in your legs going limp and loose, relaxing, letting go. You don’t need those muscles right now, the chair will support you. Notice how wonderfully heavy, so heavy they are becoming. Too heavy to bother moving them. No need to move them, not right now. The only need is to allow them to rest.

“Now that your legs are completely relaxed, you can feel the sensations of warmth, of peace, flowing through them. Soon, as you continue to concentrate, you will feel that same warmth and peace flowing from your legs into your upper body. Your hips, your stomach, your chest, your back, all feel that warmth and slowly, gently, they relax. You can feel waves of relaxation now running from your feet all the way up to the top of your chest, one with each breath, and as you breath out you can feel every muscle in your body release its tension. Again, the chair will support you. It is perfectly safe to let your muscles relax, to just let go. Let it happen as you feel yourself sinking into the chair, your whole body supported by the chair and totally relaxed, safe, secure.

“You are doing so well, Lauren. Becoming so relaxed, so peaceful. You feel the warmth and comfort that spread from your feet and legs into your belly, back, and chest, and now you realize that the feeling is still spreading, still expanding. Now feel your shoulders becoming warm, lazy, loose. The warmth flows down into your arms, making them feel so heavy, so limp and loose and lazy, all they want to do is just rest there in your lap, no need to move, no need to do anything but relax and enjoy.”

Lauren’s eyes were starting to tear. Every so often her head would droop down, only to be jerked back up again by the need to remain fixed on her own eyes. Gina continued to sit quietly in rapt attention. Time to finish this off.

“You feel so good right now, so safe, so beautiful. Warm waves of relaxation continue to flow from your feet up through your upper body, arms, and hands. And now, as you enjoy that sensation, you feel the warmth spreading up your neck, to the back of your head. Feel it spreading to the top of your head, relaxing the thin layer of muscles in your scalp, in your forehead. Feel your face relaxing as the warmth spreads through it, your mouth perhaps opening a little, your eyelids closing. As your eyelids close, feel your head become heavier and heavier, too heavy to hold up any more. Feel your neck muscles straining to hold your head up, your heavy, sleepy head. When I touch your forehead, Lauren, I want you to release all of the muscles in your neck. Just let them go limp, let go of the weight of your head. I will support you so your neck can rest and relax.”

A shiver ran up my spine when I saw her eyelids drop and her face go slack. Holding a pillow behind her, I gently pushed on her forehead. With a small sigh, her head flopped back and into the waiting pillow.

“Very good, you are so relaxed now, so completely at peace. It’s a wonderful feeling, to be so at ease, so safe, so comfortable. No need to think about anything, no need to do anything, just follow my voice and let yourself go. Continue to breathe, imagining that you can see the air flowing in and out, with each breath releasing a little bit more of those last bits of tension in your muscles. Growing more relaxed, more comfortable, with each breath.”

She was well under at this point. Her head was a dead weight against the pillow I held behind her, her mouth wide open, even her fingers looked still and limp. I wedged another pillow into the seat beside her, then gently tilted her head forward to rest on her chest. Then I saw Gina’s reflection in the mirror. She too was slumped in her chair, eyes closed, head flopped to one side. I couldn’t risk disturbing Lauren by waking Gina, so I let her be while I worked on deepening Lauren’s trance state.

“You are doing so well, Lauren. You should be pleased with yourself for being so cooperative, for being able to relax yourself so completely. You can relax even more, as much as you want, in perfect safety. I’m going to help you do that now. Would you like that?”

Her lips moved a little, and I heard a kind of hiss that I took to mean yes.

“It makes me happy to help you like this, Lauren. In a moment, I am going to begin counting down from 10 to 1. When I first count the number 10, I want you to imagine yourself standing at the top of a small staircase, all alone, in a safe and comfortable place. When I count 9, and for every number I count after 9, you will picture yourself taking one step down the staircase. At the bottom of the staircase is a big, bubbling, steamy warm Jacuzzi just waiting for you. When I count the number 1, you will be at the bottom of the stairs and you will allow yourself to just sink into that Jacuzzi.

“Ten. You can see yourself standing at the top of the stairs, ready to descend the stairs and have a nice whirlpool bath. Nine, you take a step down. With each step down, you relax a little bit more. Eight. Seven. Six, relaxing more and more with each step down. Five. Four. Three. Almost there now, you can feel how ready you are for that hot tub. Take a slow, deep breath for me now, Lauren. Two, let the breath out and feel how it relaxes you even more as you take another step down the stairs. There is only a single step to go now. One. You have finished on the stairs, and you can now let yourself sink into that warm, flowing Jacuzzi. Feel your body sinking into the warm, swirling water, taking all of your cares and worries and washing them away. Feel yourself becoming weightless, floating in the water, your head held up comfortably by the sides of the tub. I’m going to talk to Gina for a while now, Lauren, but you are perfectly safe where you are. Just ignore any sounds you might hear, they are not worth your attention. Just relax and let yourself drift in the hot tub for a little while. When you feel me touch your shoulder, you will pay attention to my voice again. Do you understand?”

“Mmmm hmmmm...” Close enough for me. I walked over to Gina. Her face was completely calm, but I could see a slight fluttering of her eyelids as her eyes maintained a rolled back position beneath them. I spoke quietly into her ear.

“Gina, do you hear me?”

“Yes, Jen.” Her jaw and mouth moved the barest minimum needed to form the words. So either she wasn’t as deeply under as Lauren, or she had experience with hypnosis and knew she could speak clearly while in trance. Why not find out?

“Have you ever been hypnotized before, Gina?”

“Yes,” came the answer in a sleepy monotone. “To stop smoking. Dr. Keller says I’m a very good subject.”

“You are a very good subject, Gina. So good that you went into a deep trance just by watching me hypnotize Lauren. Do you mind that I hypnotized you?”

“No, I don’t mind. It feels great. Please take me deeper.”

“I can if you wish, Gina, but not right now. We have to finish our shoot, remember? In a few moments you will feel me touch your right hand. When I do, you will return to your normal waking state, completely alert and aware, feeling refreshed and energized, and you will remember everything that happened while you were in trance. Ready?”

Gina nodded, and I touched her right hand. Her eyelids fluttered open, focusing first on me and then on the somnolent form of Lauren. “You could do a stage act,” she said after swallowing a couple of times. “Have you tried that on David yet?”

“This is the first time I’ve tried to hypnotize anyone since college,” I told her. “One of my sorority sisters was a psych major. A few of us let her practice her technique on us. For a while we took turns hypnotizing each other and the occasional unsuspecting victim, making goofy but harmless suggestions. She transferred after our second year and I never thought about it again until now.”

“It must be like riding a bicycle, dear, because you had me before I even realized it was happening. What do we do next?”

“You go back to the set and wait,” I told her firmly. “I’m going to do some more work with Lauren and I don’t need you zoning out on me. Does she have a steady boyfriend?”

“Not that I know of. I think she’d tell me if she were seeing anyone special.”

“She does date men, doesn’t she?” Best not to assume anything, I figured.

“I’ve never heard otherwise.”

Lauren looked so peaceful in the makeup chair that it was almost a shame to disturb her, but we still had work to do. I needed her to feel confident, desirable, sexy—all the things she wasn’t feeling during the first part of the shoot. Her head bobbed a little when I touched her shoulder. “Do you know where you are, Lauren?”

“Mmm Hmmm.”

“You’ll find that even though you are deeply asleep, you can still speak to me without disturbing yourself. In fact, speaking clearly will only help you to relax and enjoy the sensations even more. Where are you?”

“In my hot tub. Floating. Feels so nice, so nice.”

This was working out extremely well. I remembered that one of the things we always did in school was to set up a trigger for putting people back under quickly. “Lauren, are you enjoying being in such a deep trance today?”

“Oh, yes. Wanna float some more.”

“You can, as long as you want. In a little while you will have to awaken to finish your session. But you can return to this wonderful, restful, serene state any time you wish. In fact, whenever I say the words ‘time out’ to you, your mind and body will automatically return to this state and relax as deeply as you ever have. Your body will become limp and heavy, your face will go slack as your eyes close themselves, and you will give in completely to this deep, refreshing, irresistible sleep. You won’t try to resist, you will want to give in completely, because you know you can trust me to keep you safe while you float peacefully in your hot tub. Will you do this for me?”

“Yes.”

“Lauren, I need to ask you some very personal questions now, and it is very important that you answer them truthfully and completely so I can help you be successful today. When we are through you won’t remember the questions or your answers, and you can trust me to keep your secrets safe. Will you cooperate with me by answering my questions, Lauren?”

“Okay.” She sounded like a little girl.

“Thank you, Lauren. You will find as we do this that each time you answer me, you relax even further, just floating in your soothing hot tub. The rushing water will take away the memories even as you answer. Lauren, are you romantically involved with anyone right now?”

“No.”

“Is there anyone you would like to be romantically involved with?” I was trying to find out her preferences without asking outright. Despite all the preambles, I was still afraid that such a dicey question would shock her back to full awareness.

She smiled. “The photographer is pretty cute. He smells nice, too.”

Okay, that can work, I thought to myself. “He is, isn’t he? His name is David, and I know for a fact that he finds you very attractive. He loves your hair, your face, your body. He thinks you are the sexiest woman he’s ever seen, and he would like nothing more than to make love to you again and again, slowly and passionately, bringing you to climax after climax. Picture that happening, Lauren. Picture yourself making sweet, passionate love with your new boyfriend, David. Feel him sitting with you in your hot tub, his hands caressing your breasts while you stroke his thick, rigid cock. How does that make you feel, Lauren?”

“Uhhh ... so good ... oh, I want him inside me. I want to cum with him inside me.”

“And he wants that too, Lauren. Deep down, he wants that too. But he is shy, Lauren. He is afraid to tell you how he feels. He is afraid that you might reject him, because he knows that you are so beautiful, so sexy, that you can have any man you want. He wants you desperately, but he is afraid that he’s not good enough for you. You’re going to have to show him that you want him, that you won’t reject him. Seduce him with your eyes, your body, your voice. Can you do that, Lauren?”

“I can do that.”

“Good, Lauren. Very good. Now it’s almost time to continue the shoot. I’m going to count to five, and when I reach the count of five you will return to your normal waking state. You will not remember that you were hypnotized, only that you did some deep breathing exercises to help you calm down. You will feel calm and confident. When we start posing again, your only desire will be to make David want you. With every click of the camera you will become more aroused, more confident, more irresistible, and more determined to seduce him. Look straight at him through the camera and let him see the lust in your eyes. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Very good, Lauren. At the count of five you will awaken completely and carry out your instructions. One, limbs growing lighter. Two, breathing picking up. Three, energy returning to your muscles. Four, eyes starting to open. Five, wide awake.”

Lauren’s face had a look of wonder on it, the warm glow that changed her whole look. “Wow,” she said. “I feel incredible. What a great exercise that was.”

“Ready to face the camera again?”

“Sure, let’s do it.”

David and Gina were waiting for us when we emerged from the dressing room. David noticed a difference in Lauren immediately—she was walking with authority, her face lit up with purpose. When she first saw him, her eyes burned into his. At the same time, her hands went to the front of her borrowed shirt and undid an extra button, letting the shirt fall open to a point just above the navel. She ran her fingers up and down one side of the plunging opening as she stepped up onto the set. David stood stock still. Finally she prompted him. “Don’t you want to take my picture?”

“Sorry,” he said, snapping a shot. “It’s just that I had no idea that shirt could look so good.”

Lauren gave him a sly, feline sort of smile. “Just you wait.”

At that point Lauren took control of the session. For pose after pose she moved like a trained seductress, all grace and assurance, and all the while keeping her eyes locked onto David. She circled the bed like a dancer, offering him different angles, each of which caused the loose shirt to gap open, revealing more than it was intended to do. Then, stopping close to the camera, she unbuttoned the shirt completely, letting it fall open to reveal the valley between her breasts and the simple cotton bikini brief she had worn to the studio. As David continued taking shots, she lifted her arms and placed her hands behind her head, causing the shirt to open up even more. She turned sideways to David and slowly slipped the shirt off her shoulder, holding it loosely to her breast as the fabric slid down to her elbows, her face bathing David in a 1000-watt glare of pure lust.

Gina’s jaw dropped. “Whatever she does, David, just keep shooting.”

Lauren toyed with that shirt like a world-class stripper, alternately clutching it close and then letting it almost fall off, offering David view after view of her hips, her butt, her shoulders, the inside or outside of her breast, all in succession. She grew more brazen with each new position. She was clearly getting to David, who shifted positions frequently in a futile attempt to hide the signs of his own arousal. Lauren seemed to be growing impatient—after a few more poses she walked right up to the edge of the bed, let the shirt fall to the floor, and addressed David directly.

“How am I doing, David? Am I sexy enough for you, David? Are you getting hard watching me pose like this for you, David?” The poor man was totally unprepared for this—all he could do was stare, agree, and keep shooting as Lauren fondled her own breasts not three feet away.

“How do you like my tits, David? They are small, but the nipples are very, VERY sensitive.” They were also very, very erect I noticed. “Wouldn’t you like to put one of them in your mouth? Wouldn’t you like to stroke them, tease them, kiss them?’ All the while she continued moving fluidly from one pose to the next, seeming as comfortable in her naked hide as any animal. She eased herself onto the bed and continued her monologue.

“This is making me so hot, David, so hot and so horny. I’m starting to get wet thinking about it, posing for you and telling you how hot it makes me feel while you take pictures of my body. This is such an incredible turn-on, David. Is it turning you on too, David?” His verbal skills failed him completely as he watched Lauren stretched out on the bed, her hands roaming over every part of her body as she spoke her erotic thoughts aloud to him. At Gina’s urging he kept shooting, even as Lauren hooked her briefs with her thumbs and slid them off, tossing them toward David where they landed on his shoulder. I could tell from across the room that they were soaking wet.

“Keep shooting, David,” Lauren continued, climbing off the bed toward him. “I love it when you take my picture, it gets me SO horny. I’m so horny now, David, I’d like to rip your clothes off and wrap myself around your gorgeous, magnificent cock!”

For David that was the last straw; he put down the camera down and stepped backward. “I think that’s enough now, Lauren, you can go get dressed.”

“You don’t really want me to do that, do you?” she asked, her voice almost singing as she closed the space between them. “I know I don’t want me to do that. Aren’t you aroused, David? So aroused, so horny, that you can’t think of anything but how much you’d like to put your cock between my legs?” She had him backed into a corner and pressed her hand against his bulging pants, tracing the outline of his organ with her fingers. “Fuck me, David, like you know you want to. Don’t be afraid, I won’t reject you. I want you. Let go and fuck me now.”

“No.” David pushed her strongly away, but she recovered herself quickly. “This is not a good idea, Lauren.”

“It’s a GREAT idea!” she replied. “Listen to your body, David, it’s telling you how much you want me. I want to make you cum again and again and again.” She practically threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, shutting off his objections with an open-mouthed kiss that could melt steel. I’d let this go on too long.

“Lauren, time out.”

The change was astonishing. In the blink of an eye she went from clutching David to collapsing on him, totally limp. He felt it happening and went just as quickly from fighting her off to holding her up as she slumped toward the floor. Her head and shoulders flopped back as he shifted his hands to improve his grip. He stared at me in amazement. “How did you do that?”

“A little something I learned in college. I swear I had no idea it would work that well. The pictures are great, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, I think so. We’ll have to talk about this later.” He looked again into Lauren’s sleeping face. “What do I do with her?”

“I’ll take her back to the dressing room. Lauren, can you hear me?”

“Yes. Floating again, so nice.”

“That’s very good, Lauren. You can continue to relax now. As you do, you feel the strength returning to your legs. You remain deeply relaxed, but you can now stand and walk while your mind continues to float in your hot tub. Do you understand, Lauren?”

“Yes.” Her legs shifted and straightened as they took on her weight again. David let her go gently, as if he wasn’t quite sure she would stay standing.

“Come back to the dressing room with me, Lauren. You can open your eyes as you walk without disturbing your relaxed state.” She followed me into the dressing room, where I had her sit again in the makeup chair and told her once again to just drift and ignore everything until I touched her shoulder.

David started to ask questions as I came out of the dressing room, but I cut him off. “First things first. Where is her underwear?” I found it on the floor near where David had been standing when she threw it at him. Fortunately, our studio had a modest but functional laundry room. I ran the panties through a quick hand wash and put them in the dryer for a short cycle. That gave me about 20 minutes to get Lauren cleaned up and explain things to David.

I started out by telling him about my previous hypnosis experience, then gave him a basic idea of what suggestions I’d used on Lauren to overcome her nervousness. “I really didn’t expect her to strip naked and attack you, David. I’m really sorry about that.”

“No harm done,” he replied looking down at his pants, which were still stained with Lauren’s juices. “No lasting harm, anyway.” His wry face told me that all was forgiven, at least for now. “How much is she going to remember?”

That’s the big question, I thought to myself. “If I wake her right now she won’t remember being hypnotized the first time, but she will remember all the details of the second sitting, how she felt, what she did. She probably won’t remember how she ended up in the dressing room again.”

Gina spoke up. “We’re going to want Lauren to look at the proofs, so it would be better if she could remember at least some of the posing. She’ll be mortified if she realizes she ended up naked and on film, and I shudder to think how embarrassed she’ll be over throwing herself at David.”

“On the other hand, maybe this is an opportunity to try and break down some of those barriers. Maybe what she really needs is to remember everything up to when David stopped shooting, including how much she liked it and how relaxed she felt in front of the camera even with nothing on. That could be a major confidence booster for Lauren. What do you think, David?”

I looked up to see David shaking his head.. “I’m not comfortable with the idea of tinkering with someone’s personality. Who are we to decide what Lauren should think and do and remember? She trusted us completely, so we should trust her as well.”

Gina looked incredulous. “You mean you want her to remember everything?”

That sense of honor is one of the things that I like about David. Unsure of the outcome as I was, I knew he was right; we owed it to Lauren to trust her. “David’s right, Gina. Why don’t you come in and help me talk with her?”

Gina agreed. David went back to cleaning up the set area while I retrieved Lauren’s underpants from the dryer. When I returned to the dressing room Gina was perched on the edge of the vanity studying Lauren’s slack face. “I just can’t get over the change, " she said. “From wall flower to sex goddess in ten easy minutes. Can you teach her to do that to herself, maybe?”

“We’ll see.” I touched Lauren on the shoulder. As before, her head stirred a little and settled back down. “How do you feel, Lauren?”

“So nice ... sleepy ... ”

“That’s very good, Lauren. You had an excellent session today. You were confident, beautiful, sexy, everything you could possibly have been. You should be proud of yourself.”

A soft, happy smile formed on Lauren’s parted lips.

“Do you realize what happened to you today, Lauren?”

“Yes. ... You helped me relax, taught me the exercise. Made me feel really, really sexy. Told me to seduce David.” The smile straightened out again, and a small crease appeared on her forehead. “I made him hard, but he wouldn’t take me. Why didn’t he want me?”

“He did want you, Lauren. But David knew that it wouldn’t be right to take advantage of you when you were feeling so aroused. He didn’t want you to feel bad about what happened. None of us want you to be hurt or to feel uncomfortable about anything that happened today, do you understand?”

“Okay. I still want him, though.” Best to ignore that, I decided.

“Lauren, I am going to count to five soon. When I reach five you will return to your normal waking state feeling refreshed, alert, and completely comfortable. You will no longer feel compelled to seduce David. You will remember everything that happened to you today and everything you did, and none of it will make you feel hurt or used. You will remember this day as a positive experience, a day when you made new friends and had your best shoot ever. Do you understand?” Yes, I was hedging a little. I didn’t want to get sued.

“Sure.”

“Okay. One, two, three, four, five.”

Lauren’s eyes fluttered open. She looked alternately at me, at Gina, and at herself in the mirror. “Am I really awake now?”

“Yes,” I assured her. “Wide awake, feeling good.”

“I do feel good,” she affirmed. “Better than good. That was the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me. I felt like a queen.” I could see her mental gears turning, assimilating all the things she could now remember. “So that’s what it’s like being hypnotized. Did David know what you told me to do?”

“No. I didn’t plan to do that at all, Lauren, you have to understand that. It was an impulse, a way to get you to be a little less self-conscious. We wanted you to be relaxed and in command in front of the camera.”

She was nodding vigorously with me. “Well it worked, that’s for sure. I can’t remember ever feeling that sure of myself. I also can’t remember ever feeling so ... aroused.” Her nipples stood up again as she finished her sentence. “I really wish I had a boyfriend to take all this home to.”

“I’d lend you mine if I had one,” I told her. “Do you want to grab a shower before you get dressed?”

“I’d love to!” I showed Lauren to the full bath we had near the kitchen, leaving her street clothes neatly folded on the vanity counter. The water ran for what seemed like a very long time.