The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Here we go,” I said, pointing out the window. “This is the really spooky part.”

We were on final approach to BWI, less than a minute off the ground. Through the little round window I could make out the street lights and the moving headlights of cars on Dorsey Road. “In a few seconds,” I continued, “we’re going to swoop over that road so close that if it were daytime you’d almost be able to see the people in the cars.”

Sara watched out the window and drew in a sharp breath as we passed over the moving traffic, then touched down almost immediately after. “That is close,” she agreed. “It must be scary to be driving down there when a plane lands.”

“It is,” I assured her. “I’ve done it. There’s even an observation lot where you can park and watch the planes land.”

Most of our fellow passengers were fidgeting, anxious to get out of their seats; Sara and I just sat calmly together, hand in hand, content to wait while the plane rumbled across the tarmac toward the terminal. In due time the plane came to a stop and we joined the stream of passengers inching toward the exit.

We were met near the gate by Bob, a good friend of mine. “Hey, stranger!” he greeted me, his thick moustache curling up with his smile. His face became slightly puzzled when he noticed I was holding hands with someone he didn’t know.

“Sara Jane,” I said, “meet Bob. Bob, this is Sara, the lady I went to Raleigh to meet.”

Bob recovered himself quickly and shook Sara’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Old Nick didn’t tell me he was bringing company back with him. ”

“It was an impulse,” she told him. “Thanks for coming to get us.”

“Glad to do it,” he assured her. “Let’s join the mob at baggage claim before the stampede begins.”

Bob stayed back as we jockeyed for position near the belt and claimed our bags, then led us out to the short term parking garage where his Bronco waited for us. We loaded our things and then Sara and I slipped into the back seat together for the trip back to my place. We made small talk on the way, just chatting pleasantly about Raleigh, the weather, the Ravens, the Panthers ... nothing weighty. Bob tried hard to be his usual jocular self, but I could see his eyes reflected in the rear-view mirror. His apprehensive glances back at Sara told me that he wasn’t comfortable, but I wasn’t ready to enlighten him just yet. Luckily he isn’t the type to press.

It was approaching 10:00 when we pulled up to my apartment building. “You want to come up for a bit?” I asked Bob.

He shook his head. “No thanks, it’s getting late. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, maybe.”

“That works. Thanks for the transport.”

“No problem.” His eyes darted quickly toward Sara and back. “You take care, okay?”

“Relax,” I told him. “She’s good people.”

“Okay,” he said, wanting to be convinced.

“He’s a good friend,” Sara remarked as Bob pulled away.

“The best,” I agreed.

“And he’s worried about you,” she added.

“Probably. Right about now, every psycho Internet stalker story he’s ever heard is probably going through his mind. When I’m still alive tomorrow, he’ll relax.”

“Until you tell him you’re moving in with us.”

I shrugged. “He’ll be okay with that, too, once he gets to know you.”

“I hope so.”

Sara’s voice sounded uncertain. I stopped in front the apartment door, took her face in my hands, and looked into her eyes as I spoke. “My mind is made up,” I declared. “I’m closing up shop here and moving down as soon as I can. There are going to be some friends up here who will think I’m nuts because they don’t know you or Isobel, but they’re not going to talk me out of it.”

Sara smiled and hugged me tightly. “Thanks ... I’ll try not to make you say that too often.”

We went inside and I gave her the quick tour of my tiny abode. She was suitably awed by my collection of consumer electronics, including the Star Trek remote. I took our stuff back to the bedroom and acquainted Sara with the computer, which she would be using to keep up with her work while I was out doing mine. I set up a login for her and we verified that my CD-RW drive could read her disks, then I turned it over to her.

“We should touch base with Mistress,” she suggested, then shot me a scolding look. “I can’t believe someone with that amount of gadgetry in the living room doesn’t have ICQ on his computer.”

I hung my head in mock shame. “I never needed it before.”

“You do now,” she told me, and pulled up the browser. Ten minutes later I had an ICQ number and Sara was giving me a quick tutorial on how to use it. Soon we were in contact with Isobel.

<MistressA> You caught me just in time.  I was about to go to
bed.
<NickT> Sorry.  Just wanted to let you know we made it here in
one piece.  I was going to use the phone, but ...
<MistressA> It’s fine, Nick.  I’m glad you called.  Now go play.
*winks suggestively*
<NickT> Yes, Mistress.  (—:

Sara and I exchanged a lusty look as I shut down the computer. “Well,” I said with a smile, “we have our orders.”

Sara smiled back with a gleam in her eye. “Yes, we do.”

“Would you like to do the honors?”

She thought about it for a second, then shook her head. “No thanks,” she demurred. “I like being your practice subject.”

“As you wish, my dear.”

Sara settled herself comfortably in the chair and looked up at me expectantly. “Did you bring your pendant?”

I kicked myself mentally, realizing I’d left the pendant back in Raleigh. Then I thought about it for a second. Sara was an experienced and very susceptible subject; it gave me an idea. “We don’t need the pendant,” I declared with confidence. “Watch this.” I made a great show of reaching into my shirt pocket with my right hand and pantomimed pulling out the pendant on its cord. Holding the imaginary cord between my thumb and finger, I lifted it up to the proper height and rolled my fingers. “Just imagine that I’m holding the pendant right above you, exactly where I always hold it, twirling and spinning before you. Picture your eyes being drawn to it, so pretty, so colorful. See it with your mind’s eye, and you will feel it drawing you quickly, easily, comfortably, into deep hypnosis.”

Sara followed the imaginary pendant with her eyes and her imagination did the rest. In mere seconds she was staring blankly at a spot about a foot below my extended hand, her face growing slack, her breathing slowing. Her eyes dropped shut on command and she sank easily into the chair.

Her body melted as I massaged her shoulders, coaxing her deeper and deeper into trance. I stood her up and eased her clothes off, telling her all the while how beautiful she was and how much I loved her. Then we made love, rocking together sweetly and slowly, and I used her trance to amplify the sensations for her. We both went to sleep happy.

My body groaned when the alarm went off at 5:30 in the morning. I smacked the snooze button swiftly, remembering Sara next to me, and grudgingly climbed out of bed for my run.

I needed the run—although I’d gotten plenty of other kinds of physical activity in Raleigh, the only day I’d run was the Sunday morning when I’d made up my mind about the relationship. My legs and chest grumbled at me for a few minutes before settling into the familiar rhythm, allowing my mind to detach and start gnawing on the problem of the day—how to close up my Baltimore life quickly and get down to Raleigh.

The logistical issues were not that hard to figure out: I’d need to give my clients reasonable notice, recommend new people to take over the business when I could; settle on a firm moving date and either sublet the apartment or take my chances with the management company; decide what stuff was worth taking down with me and what wasn’t. That was all pretty straightforward, albeit not easy.

The big issue was how to break the news. I had a lot of professional contacts and acquaintances who would wonder if I was having a midlife crisis or something when they heard I was packing up and moving south with someone 10 years my junior. That didn’t bother me a whole lot, but there was a small cadre of close friends that I cared deeply about, whose friendship and esteem I was anxious to keep. Bob, of course; Sylvia, the engineering manager at my main client office; Gene and Mario, friends of mine from the company I’d worked at before going freelance. I wanted them to meet Sara, to get to know her a little, and to be happy for us. Most importantly, I wanted to break the news to them myself before they heard it through the grapevine. That would mean moving quickly and decisively.

Sara was still asleep when I got back. I showered quietly and dressed in the semi-light of the morning through shaded windows, then kissed her gently. She stirred slightly. “I have to go,” I whispered. “My cell number is on a sticky note on the side of the computer screen; I’ll see you after work.” She mumbled something vaguely “okay”—like, and I kissed her one more time before leaving.

My only stop that day was GGK, the large insurance/financial services company that was my primary client. I had a regular cubicle there, just like the GGK employees, and spent most of my time helping them manage the growing fleet of Citrix Metaframe servers used by their field sales forces. Dale, the CTO for their Baltimore branch, reminded me periodically that I could have a full-time job there any time I wanted, but I preferred the flexibility of freelancing. It worked out well for both of us that way.

I wasn’t too surprised to see Sylvia hovering around my cubicle when I got there. “You look great,” she told me, giving me the once over. “Whatever you did this weekend, keep on doing it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I grinned, then settled down into my chair.

“Well?” she prompted. “Aren’t you going to tell me about your trip?”

“Not much to tell,” I demurred. “I flew down to Raleigh, stayed with friends for a few days, and came home.”

Sylvia perched on the edge of my desk and winked at me. “Okay,” she replied, “then why don’t you tell me about the girl you brought back with you?”

I dropped my head and laughed softly. “Been talking to Bob, I take it?”

“Maybe just a little.”

I looked up at her and our eyes met. “Her name is Sara Jane Douglas. She’s a freelance Web designer from Raleigh. She’s 27, and I’m in love with her. When you meet her, I think you’ll understand why.”

“Does she have anything to do with the way you’ve been acting the past couple of weeks?”

“Everything,” I answered truthfully.

“Then I think I understand already.” With a maternal smile, she patted my shoulder and left.

One of my first priorities for that morning was to grab Dale for a few minutes. I found him in the kitchen and followed him back to his office, making small talk about the weather in Raleigh and such until I could close the door behind us.

Dale looked at the closed door and sensed a problem. “What’s up, Nick?”

“This is top secret until I say otherwise, okay?”

He could see I was serious. “Okay, you got it.”

I took a deep breath and plunged in. “I’ve decided to close up shop and move down to Raleigh. I’m not ready to make that public yet, but I know how hard it is to find good Citrix people so I wanted you to have as much advance notice as possible.”

Dale let the news sink in for a minute. “I’m sorry to hear that, Nick,” he said sincerely. “Do you have a timetable?”

“Not a firm one. I figure it’ll take four to six weeks to either wrap up the projects I have going on now or hand them over to Sylvia’s people. Getting out of my apartment lease will take just as long, I expect. Plus I need to hand off my other clients as well. I could be shuttling back and forth for as much as three months during the transition.”

He nodded. “And how long do you expect to keep this quiet?”

I grinned. “The rest of the week, if I’m lucky.”

“That may be difficult,” he warned, “but I’ll hold off on anything that would blow the lid before Monday. I don’t suppose you could recommend anyone offhand to replace you?”

“I might know someone,” I replied. “But I haven’t approached him yet. Do you think you’ll make this job a salaried position or keep it outsourced?”

“I’ve been holding a vacant slot in the org chart with your name on it for as long as I can remember,” he said. “Salaried would be my first choice; but, as with you, I’m open to any options.”

“Fair enough. You start the paperwork with HR, and I’ll talk to my friend.”

Dale stood up and shook my hand. “We’re gonna miss the hell out of you, you know.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

I ran into Sylvia again on the way back to my cube and had a nasty thought. The rumor mill in that office is strong and healthy; it was only a matter of time before she heard about my closed-door session with Dale. What would I say if she asked me about it? When I’d made my tentative plans, I hadn’t fully appreciated how difficult it would be to start things in motion for the move while still keeping it a secret. I also hadn’t realized how heavily the guilty knowledge would weigh on my own conscience. It made for a grueling day.

When I got back to the apartment, Sara was waiting for me in the living room. She took one look at my face and jumped up to take me in a bear hug. It was exactly what I needed right then.

We settled together on the sofa and Sara started stroking my temples. I felt myself relaxing as her fingers drew little circles on the sides of my head. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I don’t know if I can keep the secret,” I said immediately. “I’m not used to holding out on everyone, and it’s stressing me out.”

“Then don’t,” she suggested. “It’s not worth it, Nick. If they’re that close to you, then they’ll understand.”

“I don’t know ... you saw how Bob was last night.”

“He was concerned,” she countered. “But he accepted that you knew what you were doing. Why not give him credit for that?”

I had slouched down far enough that my head was resting on Sara’s breast. I looked up at her and smiled weakly. “You’re probably right,” I agreed. “The thing is, I don’t have any immediate relatives; just a couple of cousins in Jersey that I exchange cards with at Christmas. These people, Bob and Sylvia and Gene and Mario, are my family. I want them to approve of what we’re doing and to be happy for us.”

“They will,” she assured me. “Maybe not right away, but eventually.”

“I hope so,” I sighed, and then let my eyes close. Sara spoke to me in her soft, measured voice, taking me deeply into myself. I felt the anxiety, the tension, drain from my limbs and upper body and concentrate in one place—a place where a certain amount of tension can be quite pleasurable.

As Sara continued to speak softly to me the tension in that place continued to build until I was hard as iron. I felt my body rise from the sofa and head to the bedroom. My clothes seemed to fall away from me. I stretched out on the bed and closed my eyes again, letting Sara’s voice take me deeper. The bed moved slightly and I felt Sara climb on top, straddling me at the hips while her hands massaged my chest and shoulders. I opened my eyes and met her gaze, letting her green eyes capture my awareness. She was speaking still, but the words went straight through me before I could interpret them consciously. I didn’t care, though, because they made my body feel wonderful—floating in pleasure, my limbs growing lighter and lazier as my cock grew stiffer and longer.

I felt Sara envelop my extended member, easing down on it and settling in with a little wiggle. Her eyes turned upward and closed for a second, then locked onto mine again. We rocked back and forth, in and out, until the pleasure overtook us both and sent us soaring.

“Feeling any better?”

We were still on the bed, having a nice post-coital snuggle. I buried my face in her hair and took in a long, delicious breath before answering. “I think so. If nothing else, I’m a lot less stressed than when I walked in. Thank you for that.”

“My pleasure, hon.”

We stayed that way for a few more minutes, until the grumbling of our stomachs made it clear that other important needs were going unfulfilled. I peeked at the alarm clock. “Too late to start cooking,” I opined. “We’d better eat out.”

Sara groaned at my awful pun and smacked me with a pillow.

Twenty minutes later we were in my car, headed for Catonsville. I’d decided to take Sara to Jeeter’s, a small steak house and pub that was a favorite hangout of mine. There was an excellent chance we’d run into other people I knew there, which was a large part of the reason we were going—it was an opportunity to introduce Sara into what I was already thinking of as my old life; to let people see us together, so when the word of my leaving got out it would be less of a surprise.

I asked for and got my usual corner booth, big enough for six, in case anyone happened by. We had just enough time to get settled in before our waitress came by. Surprise registered on her face when she saw Sara, but she recovered quickly. “Hey, sweetie,” she greeted me with a quick touch on the shoulder. “How’ve you been?”

I grinned back at her and squeezed Sara. “Never better, Kelly. This is Sara. Sara, this is Kelly, the woman who’s been servicing me on a weekly basis for well over a year.”

“That’s right,” Kelly agreed, rubbing my shoulder suggestively. “I know exactly what my Nick likes.”

Sara grinned and played along. “And what is that?”

Kelly winked and lowered her voice to a seductive purr. “Prime rib, medium rare; French onion soup; garden salad with ranch dressing on the side; iced tea if he’s driving, otherwise Sam Adams. But most of all, he likes to do it with a group.”

“Oh, really?” Sara said, her eyebrow rising.

Kelly gave an exaggerated nod. “Really, hon. Some nights I’ve done this guy and five, six of his friends all at the same time. If you’re taking him on, you’ll have your hands full.”

“I’ll remember that,” Sara replied in mock earnestness, and we all laughed at ourselves for a moment. With the bantering over, Kelly took our food and drink orders and slipped away. “She’s interesting,” Sara remarked as the waitress vanished into the kitchen.

“Oh, yes,” I agreed. “She’s like that with all the regular customers.”

In short order my expectations were realized as Gene and Mario walked into the place. Kelly spotted them and pointed them toward me; they hesitated at first, seeing Sara, but when I waved them over they came. I stood up to greet them with hearty handshakes.

Gene was a big man, broad in the shoulders, with a booming but friendly voice. “Is this the mystery lady?” he asked, indicating Sara.

“This is Sara,” I confirmed. “Sara, meet Gene and Mario.” Handshakes were exchanged, and the men settled in with us. Kelly reappeared and fetched drinks for them. “So what brings you guys out?”

“App upgrade,” Gene replied. “It wasn’t quite as much of a clusterfuck as usual; that’s worth celebrating all by itself.”

“If you ran the whole thing on UNIX,” Mario jibed, “we’d be on our third round by now.”

“If we ran the whole thing on UNIX,” Gene retorted, “we wouldn’t get nearly as much overtime and we’d only need half the support staff. So you see? Windows NT is vital to this country’s economy—or at least to my personal economy.”

We toasted Bill Gates for enhancing Gene’s personal economy, then fell into a spirited discussion of the inadequacies in Microsoft operating systems—admittedly a favorite subject, since Gene and I make much of our living by helping companies overcome those inadequacies. The arrival of our dinner slowed down the geek-speak but didn’t entirely stop it.

By the time Sara and I finished eating, Gene and Mario were winding down as well. The conversation gave way to a companionable silence.

“So, Gene,” I said, seizing the opportunity. “How are your Citrix skills these days?”

Gene shrugged. “A little stale, but not moldy yet. Why?”

“GGK is looking for a Citrix guy,” I told him. “Full time, good benefits, free parking.”

“Working with you?”

“Replacing me,” I confessed. “You’d be working for Sylvia. I’d be there for a few weeks to get you started, then it’s all yours.”

“Why don’t you take it?” he asked suspiciously. “You practically live there anyway.”

I took a deep breath. Sara’s hand squeezed mine under the table. “I’m closing up shop, guys. I’ll be moving down to Raleigh as soon as I wind up business here.”

Mario’s East African eyes opened wide in surprise. Gene looked sharply at Sara, then back at me. “No shit?”

“No shit,” I assured him. “I talked to Dale about it today. The rest of the group will find out as soon as I can get to them.”

Gene let out a low whistle. “Jesus,” he said.

“So are you interested in the job?”

“Yeah, I’m interested.”

“Great,” I said. “I’ll give Dale your number and a recommendation; you might want to email him a resume.”

“Will do.”

“Changing strategy?” Sara inquired after we took our leave.

“Maybe a little,” I granted. “I knew I’d probably have to tell Gene right away, since part of the plan was to offer him the job of replacing me. Mario could have waited, but I decided tonight that I’m not going to drive myself crazy trying to keep the lid on. If Sylvia or Bob figures it out before I’m ready to tell them, so be it. The likelihood of them running into Gene or Mario in the next couple of days is pretty slim, anyway.”

It was a little after nine when we got back to the apartment, so Sara put in a call to Isobel. I flipped on the computer and did some aimless recreational surfing, half an ear on Sara’s end of the conversation as she updated Isobel on our activities, including our encounter with Gene and Mario. After several minutes, she handed the cordless to me. “Your turn.”

I put the phone up to my face. “Isobel?”

“Good evening, Nick. How are you doing?”

“Fine,” I said.

“You’re quite sure?” she pressed. “No second thoughts?”

“Positive,” I assured her. “I’ve already started saying goodbye to the place.”

“That’s good to hear. I’m planning a party of sorts to welcome you into the fold. When do you think you’ll be coming back down?”

I had to think a moment. “I haven’t got it pinned down yet. I can probably come down to visit at the end of next week. By then I should also have a better handle on how much longer things will take up here.”

“I’ve got a few things to arrange here as well,” she said. “But it sounds as though there will be plenty of time. Come when you can.”

I wished Isobel goodnight, then gave the phone back to Sara and went to bed. I half-remember her slipping in beside me some time later and snuggling close.

Thursday I spent most of the day working with the two junior administrators, Rhana and Victor, on testing an application upgrade. I welcomed the chance to wrap my mind around the technical issues, pushing the personal to the background for a while. In the process, I found myself taking the time to explain more thoroughly than usual the reasons behind each step and the problems I expected might come up in the field. Their curious looks warned that I might be tipping my hand a little, but they chose not to call me on it directly.

When I got back to my apartment, a white Accord in the parking lot caught my eye. It looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I shrugged it off and headed inside to be with Sara.

My life flashed before my eyes when I reached my living room. Sara was there on the couch, and opposite her in the recliner was an attractive woman my age with sandy hair, soft brown eyes, and (I remembered) a white Accord—Shannon.

I think every guy has nightmares about ex-lovers getting together with the current one. There was nothing specific to dread in this case, but my brain vapor-locked for a few seconds anyway. Sara saw the deer-in-the-headlights look on my face and laughed. “Relax, Nick,” she said with a grin. “We finished dissecting your personality twenty minutes ago.”

That got me breathing again, so I dropped my things in the hall closet and sat down with them. “How are you doing, Shannon?”

“Okay, I suppose,” she said, looking a little bewildered. “Sara was just about to explain to me why I can’t seem to get out of this chair.”

I looked back at Sara, who was chuckling to herself. “We were talking about hypnosis. Shannon was curious, so we did a little demonstration.”

“I see,” I said skeptically. “Shannon just happened to stop by, and you two just happened to start talking about hypnosis.”

“It’s my fault,” Shannon volunteered. “I heard there was someone new in your life and I wanted to meet her, so I made up an excuse and came over. I asked about how you two met, she told me about the MP3’s, I mentioned that you and I had tried a little hypnosis but never really got anywhere with it. Sara started telling me about how easy it can be to relax and drift into trance, and the next thing I knew I was stuck in this chair.” I could see her upper body trying to get up, but her legs and hips remained completely at rest.

“Wait a minute,” I objected. “There have been other people in my life since you and I ended, but this is the first time you’ve come over to meet one. Did your brother put you up to this?”

Shannon tried to sink a little deeper into the recliner for cover. “Not directly,” she said. “He did tell me that you had gone to Raleigh to visit someone you’d only met recently over the Internet, and that when he picked you up at the airport you’d brought her with you. I could tell Bob was pretty spooked—let’s face it, Nick, you are not known as an impulsive, romantic guy—and that got my curiosity up. I know it’s none of my business, but I wanted to meet the woman who’d had such an impact on you.” She shook her head and chuckled lightly, nodding at her unmoving legs. “I’m beginning to understand why.”

“Hypnosis is not mind control,” I told her. “If you really needed to get out of that chair, you’d have no problem doing it. Just as, if Sara tried to get me to do something I really didn’t want to do, I could easily ignore the suggestion.”

Shannon nodded. “So what you’re saying is, I’m stuck in this chair because some part of my mind likes the idea of giving up control?”

“Likes it,” Sara agreed, “or at least has no objection to it. Or maybe part of you realizes that by allowing yourself to go into trance and follow a simple suggestion, you are actually exercising more control over your own body.”

“This is weird,” Shannon said, “but kind of hot. Can you teach me to do this with my fiancé?”

“I probably shouldn’t,” Sara demurred. “I’m not certified to teach. But Nick and I are both studying under a professional Mistress. I could ask her if she can recommend someone.”

“I think I’d like that,” Shannon agreed. “Can I have my legs back now?”

We all laughed. “Sure,” Sara said. “I’ll have to take you back under to do it, though.” She stopped and looked at me; I could see the wheels turning in her mind. “Actually, would you mind if Nick did the honors? I’d like to see how he does with someone who isn’t used to going into trance for him.”

Shannon regarded me curiously. “Okay,” she said with a playful smile. “I’ll play guinea pig one more time.”

Taking my cue, I pulled an ottoman over by Shannon’s side and sat down. “First off, let’s have you sit back and relax, get nice and comfortable. Now, try to remember what it felt like when Sara took you into hypnosis a little while ago. Imagine yourself listening to her voice, concentrating on each word.”

“Relaxing,” Sara added softly from behind me. “Really relaxing and letting go, letting all of the tension drain from your muscles, letting that wonderful, soothing fog settle over your mind again. Remembering to imagine the warm rays of the sun beaming down on you as you lie back on your private beach, nothing to think about, nothing to worry about, just relaxing.”

We tag-teamed Shannon, alternating back and forth, sometimes speaking at the same time, until Shannon’s eyes closed and her head flopped back. We gave her deepening suggestions, taking her way down, until her breathing had slowed to a barely perceptible pace. Her skin became cool and slightly pale, suggesting a very deep trance state.

Toward the end I noticed that Sara had stopped taking her turn and was simply sitting still, staring at Shannon’s sleeping face. Sara was pretty well under herself; I wondered if she realized it.

“Can you hear me?” I asked Shannon.

Her lips quivered slightly, but nothing resembling speech came out. Instead, I heard Sara answer, “Yes.”

An impish idea struck me—something I’d tried, and failed, with Shannon long ago, but I felt confident I could pull it off this time. “You are deep in hypnosis now,” I said in my smooth, gentle voice. “Your conscious mind is asleep, resting comfortably, leaving your subconscious mind totally open to my suggestions. The suggestions I give you now will be for your own enjoyment, your own pleasure, and will never be used to embarrass or harm you, so you know you can safely accept them and follow them. Will you accept my suggestions now?”

Again, I heard a “Yes” from Sara and got a slight lip movement from Shannon.

“The subconscious mind has a very powerful memory,” I continued. “It can remember every event, every sensation, you’ve ever experienced. It can remember exactly how it feels when your lover pleases you, giving you the most wonderful, loving, arousing oral sex you’ve ever had. In fact, your subconscious mind can cause you to feel those sensations again right now, or whenever you wish to. You will feel a lover’s tongue gently caressing your most sensitive pleasure places, moving exactly the way you love it to, bringing you quickly and easily to the most intense, satisfying orgasm you’ve ever had. This will happen easily and naturally, bringing you to delicious orgasm, whenever I say the word ‘replay’ to you.”

I reinforced the suggestion several times, seating it firmly in Shannon’s subconscious. I told her she could tell any current or future lover the trigger word and her body would respond equally well to it. When she seemed ready, I turned to Sara.

“Sara, the suggestions you just heard me give to Shannon will affect you as well. When I say the word ‘replay’ to you, you will also experience the erotic feelings and the orgasm, just as I told Shannon that she will. When you awaken, you will not realize that you have been in hypnosis. You will remember everything I suggested to Shannon as if you had been fully awake and listening to it, but you will not remember that the suggestion will also work on you.”

After a little reinforcement for Sara, I counted up to five and both women snapped awake. Shannon was a little slow to come up, shaking her head lightly to clear the cobwebs.

“How do you feel?” Sara asked her.

“Like I’ve just had a very long nap,” she replied, stretching. She stood up, took a tentative step or two, then sat back down again. “Good as new,” she declared.

“Are you up for one more little test?” I asked her.

Shannon eyed me suspiciously. “What did you do, Nick?”

I grinned sheepishly. “Just gave you a little souvenir of your walk on the wild side,” I said. “Replay, Shannon.”

I heard her gasp immediately as the first sensations hit her. The initial surprise quickly turned into impassioned moans, a pattern and sound resonating in my older memories. I held Sara and watched as Shannon resisted at first, then let go and let the pleasure consume her. Her hands wandered over her body, one moving from breast to breast, the other caressing her middle and a bit lower. Her blouse and skirt didn’t lend themselves to easy access, so she caressed herself through the clothing and ground her legs together. Her moans turned into groans and then gasping cries as she felt the orgasm hit and hold, rocking her world, leaving her breathless a few moments later as it subsided.

“Sweet Jesus,” she sighed, spent. “Who taught you to do that?”

I shrugged. “Sara, and our teacher. Did you enjoy it?”

“What do you think?” she retorted. “If only my fiancé could do that.”

“Actually, he can,” I told her. “All he has to do is say the trigger word to you, and you’ll experience the whole ride again.”

“The trigger word ... you mean ‘replay’?”

“That’s it.”

“And when he sees how that word affects me, how do I explain it to him?”

I grinned wickedly. “That’s up to you. Once he sees the results, though, he may be having too much fun to ask a lot of questions.”

“You’re all heart.” Shannon took a few minutes more to compose herself, then rose from the chair. “Time to go home, I think,” she announced.

I hugged her and grinned. “Will you be filing a report with Bob?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “I intend to tell him that you’ve been bewitched and bedazzled, and that you’re now officially the luckiest guy I’ve ever known.”

We hugged again, then Shannon left. Sara watched her car pull away and held me close on the couch. “You have excellent taste in women,” she remarked.

“Thank you,” I replied. “Oh, and Sara?”

“Yes, hon?”

“Replay...”

Although it turned out well, Shannon’s visit served to put a greater sense of urgency into me. If I didn’t hurry up and tell Sylvia and Bob what was going on they would draw their own conclusions. I owed them better than that.

Before I went on my run Friday morning, I sent an email to each of them asking if they were up for a lunch date, suggesting a favorite diner of ours just outside Towson. I also woke Sara briefly before heading to the office to let her know I’d be picking her up for lunch.

Bob’s reply was waiting for me when I got to the office:

Nick,

Can’t get away for lunch, sorry. How about a counter offer: come over to our place about 7:00 for dinner? Trish is dying to meet Sara anyway.

-b

That seemed like a good proposition, so I accepted for the both of us.

I was starting to wonder about Sylvia when, at about 10:30, she poked her head into my cube. “I’m in Meeting Hell this morning,” she explained. “Just got out of one, and I’m late for another.”

“Ouch,” I commiserated. “Can you make lunch?”

She grimaced. “I really shouldn’t,” she said. “I’ve got a ton of work I need to do. Can we do it next week?”

I shrugged. “Sure,” I said. “Sara and I can have lunch by ourselves.”

Sylvia’s eyebrows rose. “Sara, the new girlfriend?”

I nodded, smiling.

“Work can wait,” Sylvia decided. “I have to meet this girl.”

Sylvia’s second meeting broke up around 12:15. I swung by the apartment to pick up Sara and headed out to the diner.

Sylvia was already there, having secured for us a nice corner table. She saw us come in and stood up to greet us.

“You must be Sara,” she said, looking her over with frank interest. “It’s so good to meet you, dear. Nick has told me almost nothing about you.”

“All part of my diabolical plan to drive you insane,” I joked. “Is it working?”

“After this morning,” she countered, “any such plan is redundant. I’ve got 4 candidates to interview for the Web admin position and no idea how to tell if they really know anything about running a Web site because Janice is out sick today. Meanwhile, Dale tells me that a ‘minor reorganization’ is around the corner for my team, but won’t give me any details until Monday. It’s got me a little torqued up.”

It took all my self control to suppress a gulp. The waitress saved me by coming over to take our drink orders: iced tea for me and Sara, diet Coke for Sylvia. The interruption served to turn our collective attention to the menu for a few minutes while we decided what to have for lunch. In due course our drinks arrived and we ordered.

“I’m sorry,” Sylvia began as our waitress disappeared with the menus. “The last thing I want is to talk shop. Tell me about you two.”

Sara and I exchanged a silent look, and I yielded the floor to her. “It’s a pretty short story so far,” she began. “Nick and I first met through an MP3 sharing service online. We have similar tastes in that way. We exchanged a couple of MP3’s, which led to some emails, which led to a phone call or two, which led to last weekend.”

I grinned inwardly at Sara’s casual wording. Damn, she was clever.

“That’s it?” Sylvia pressed. “You two only met last weekend?”

“Only met in person,” Sara countered. “Our online relationship started several weeks ago. We were already close before Nick came to Raleigh; that was just the next step.”

“It does explain some things,” Sylva said thoughtfully.

“Oh?” I interjected. “Like what?”

“You, for one thing. You’ve been different lately, Nick. More energetic, more sure of yourself, taking things in stride that used to tick you off. I half suspected there might be someone new in your life, but I thought for sure you’d tell me if there was. Why didn’t you?”

I shrugged apologetically. “An online relationship? I figured you’d think I was losing it.”

Sylvia was looking over Sara again. “Maybe. Then again, online dating seems to have broadened your horizons.” Seeing Sara’s quizzical look, she winked at her and added in an aside, “Before you, Nick’s taste in women was quite monotonous: tall, annoyingly skinny, and mostly blonde.”

“Oh,” Sara said, smiling back with a gleam in her eye. “We left her back home.” She grinned at me wickedly as I squirmed in my seat.

Now it was Sylvia’s turn to be confused. “Am I missing something?”

“An inside joke,” I told her. “I’ll explain it at some point, maybe.” I resolved to leave a really big tip, as the waitress saved me again by bringing our food.

As we ate, Sara worked her magic on Sylvia as she had with Gene and Mario; by the end of the meal, Sylvia had stopped examining Sara and started relating to her as a new friend. They even went to the bathroom together, a sure sign of female bonding if ever there was one.

We lingered over coffee while I looked for an opening in the conversation. Sylvia provided one in her usual direct fashion. “So,” she said, “what’s next for you two?”

I took a deep breath and plunged in. “Well, Sara goes back home on Sunday. I’ll be wrapping things up here over the next month or two, and then I’m moving down with her.”

Sylvia went into suspended animation for about a five count. “That’s the reason for the reorganization,” she finally said. “You’re leaving.”

“That’s it. Dale is going to offer Gene a full time position to replace me, reporting to you. He’ll probably take it. I’ll be around for a few weeks to help with the transition before I leave town for good.”

Sylvia went quiet again, staring into the empty space between me and Sara. Sara reached across the table and took her hand. “Sylvia? Are you okay?”

My friend snapped out of it and focused back on us. “I’m sorry,” she said weakly. “I’m a little shell-shocked. I shouldn’t be, I guess—anyone who sees you together can tell you have a serious relationship.”

“We do,” I confirmed, reaching over to join hands with her and Sara. “I’m glad you can see that, and I hope you can be happy with us.”

“I can,” Sylvia said, water glistening at the corner of her eye. “I will be, once the surprise wears off. Who else knows about this?”

“Dale, of course. Gene and Mario too. We’re having dinner at Bob’s house tonight; he and Trish will find out then. The rest of the office will start to figure it out when Dale posts the job opening on Monday.”

At the words “job opening”, Sylvia’s face took on a pained look. “Shit,” she muttered. “My first interview is in half an hour. How the hell am I going to do this?”

Sara cleared her throat. “I could help you,” she said tentatively.

Sylvia looked at her sharply. “How?”

“I’m a webgie myself,” she explained. “Design mostly, but I do maintain the website for my M—... for my main client, and another for a professional office. If all you need is someone to ask technical questions and tell you if the answers make sense, I can do that.” I was very glad Sara had pulled back the word ‘Mistress’; given Sylvia’s reaction to the moving news, I’d decided not to hit her with the polyamory angle on top of it. That could come another time.

“How well do you know the innards of a Web server?”

Sara smiled reassuringly. “IIS, Apache, Sun, Netscape, or something else?”

“IIS, mostly. Some Apache on Linux.”

“Pretty well, then. More than enough to tell an expert from a resume artist.”

Sylvia squeezed our hands. “You’re on. And thank you.”

In one of those quirky turns that things take, I found myself driving back to the office alone while Sara rode with Sylva, using the time for a quick briefing on the network layout. I didn’t see them again until the end of the afternoon, when I spotted them in the hallway talking with Dale. From their body language, it looked as though Sara had been welcomed into the fold.

“How did it go?” I asked, approaching the group.

Sylvia was beaming. “One legitimate prospect, two creative resume writers, and a full-blown bullshit artist. Percentage-wise, not a bad afternoon.”

“Your better half here is a sharp interviewer,” Dale offered. “One of those characters had me convinced he was for real until Sara started asking him questions.”

“He wasn’t that bad,” Sara said. “He’s just one of those professional test-takers. Lots of certifications and book knowledge, but not enough real world experience for the job he wants. He’d be fine starting out as a junior admin, where he can grow into things.”

“Which would be okay in most cases,” Dale agreed. “But for this job we need someone who can be plug and play. Janice and Sylvia don’t have time to teach someone the differences between a production network and a training lab.”

“We did get one good candidate,” Sylvia pointed out. “And we’ve got more resumes in the pile to be vetted, too. We’ll find someone.”

Dale shook Sara’s hand. “Thanks again, Sara. We owe you a lunch or something, if you’ll come back to collect it.”

She shrugged and smiled. “We’ll see. It was a pleasure to help out.”

Dale looked at me. “Nick, since you brought Sara in here can I conclude that the lid is now officially off?”

“As far as the office goes, sure. I still have a friend who’ll be in the dark for a couple more hours.”

“Good. I took a risk and put an ad in the papers starting Sunday. You understand I’ll have to interview any good candidates that surface, but your recommendation will go a long way in your friend Gene’s favor.”

“That’s fine,” I assured him. “Nobody’s asking for special treatment. Gene wouldn’t want the job if he thought it was tainted that way.”

“Fair enough.”

Sara and I said our goodbyes and ducked out a little early. The rush hour was just getting started when we hit the road.

“How do you think it went?” Sara asked me once we were clear of the office.

“Here first reaction was about what I expected,” I answered. “Or at least, as much as I realistically thought I could expect. You helping out with the interviews certainly went a long way toward winning her over. Dale, too.”

“I guess it’s lucky I was on hand.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” I told her. “Sylvia’s been looking for someone to back up Janice for four months. Nobody has passed muster so far. I’m surprised she didn’t offer the job to you.”

Sara grinned wryly at me. “She did. Right in front of Dale.”

My heart almost stopped. “And you told her ...”

“That I have family in Raleigh that I can’t leave. Which is true, if not in the exact way she took it.”

I sighed. “Well spoken.”

“We are going to tell her eventually, right?” she asked pointedly.

“Yes,” I assured her. “I have to. She’s a good friend.”

“I’m glad. I’m starting to like her, too.”

We had plenty of time before we were due at Bob’s, so when we got back to the apartment I immediately kicked off my shoes and flopped onto the bed. Sara came in behind me holding the cordless handset. “We need to check the voice mail,” she announced.

I reached out my left hand and turned on the speakerphone in the base, dialing the voice mail number and password by feel. In a few seconds, Isobel’s rich voice poured out of the speaker. “Hello, Nick. Hello, Sara. Nothing urgent; just call home when you can, please. I miss you both.”

Sara sat on the bed next to me and placed the call. Isobel picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“We’re here, Mistress,” Sara said.

“It’s good to hear your voice,” she replied. “How are your friends taking the news, Nick?”

“So far, so good. Sylvia was thrown a little, but she’s warming to the idea. Bob is the one I’m most concerned about. He’s a pretty conventional guy; this is going to be hard for him to swallow. ”

“Our lifestyle is difficult for some to accept,” Isobel agreed. “You struggled with it yourself, remember. Tell him that, and encourage him to talk through it.”

“Communication,” I echoed.

“Exactly. And be prepared for a less than enthusiastic reaction. Understanding needs to flow both ways.”

After a little mundane small talk, we said our goodbyes and hung up the phone. We still had a little spare time before we needed to get ready for Bob’s, so we spent it cuddling on the bed in a light trance.

The ride to Bob’s started out silently. The butterflies were already churning in my stomach and I guess it showed. Sara took my hand in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Nervous?”

“Yes.” My mouth was so dry it came out in a gulp.

“Is there anything I need to know about Bob before we get there?”

Thinking was too hard; I just rambled. “Like I said, he’s a pretty conventional guy. He’s big on family and friends, and looking out for one another. ”

“He sounds like a good person.”

“He is.”

“Then what are you worried about?”

I took a long, deep, steadying breath. “Bob is my best friend, Sara. I really want him to approve of what we’re doing.”

“And you think he might not?”

I shrugged. “I’m afraid so. Bob doesn’t have an impulsive bone in his body, hon. He’s the guy who taught me to plan ahead, measure the risks, be ready to adapt—skills that make me damned good at what I do for a living. Me running off to Raleigh and moving in with someone 10 years younger than I am, and whom I just met last week, is not going to sit well with him.”

Sara’s voice became very quiet. “What will you do if he disapproves?”

Now it was my turn to offer reassurance. “Miss him,” I replied.

Our reception at Bob’s went a long way toward stilling my nerves. Trish greeted us at the door with a warm hug for me and a welcoming smile and handshake for Sara. We followed her back to the kitchen, where Bob was meticulously slicing a loaf of homemade bread into half-inch thick slices.

“Evening,” he said with a friendly grin. “Glad you could come.”

“Thanks,” Sara replied. “What can we do to help?”

“I think we’ve got it,” Bob answered. “Unless you want to pour wine, maybe.” He nodded his head toward an open bottle of Chianti on the counter.

“I can do that.” Sara took four wine glasses from the overhead rack and filled them while Trish and I arranged slices of bread on a foil-covered baking sheet. Trish brushed the slices with a mixture of melted butter and herbs from a small saucepan, and had me follow behind her adding shredded cheese. Then the three of us stepped back while Trish deftly swept the tray into the oven and pulled out the main course: a bubbling, golden dish of lasagna.

There was an appreciative chorus of oohs and aahs. “This will need a few minutes before we can serve it,” Trish said. “Why don’t we start on the salad?”

The round dining table was set for four. “Where’s Brian?” I asked, referring to their 17-year-old son.

“At his girlfriend’s,” Trish answered. “When we told him we were having friends over for dinner, he grabbed his Blockbuster gift card and planned a private film festival.”

“His loss,” I remarked with a grin.

“Not from his perspective, I imagine,” Sara retorted.

“Do you have experience with teens?” Trish asked.

Sara shrugged. “Not really; I just remember being one.”

By the time our salads were done, I was feeling a lot more comfortable. Bob and Trish were treating Sara with the same warmth and friendliness that they did everyone else in our circle. The irrational fear that someone would suddenly whip out a rubber hose and start giving us the third degree pretty much disappeared.

The lasagna and bread were brought to the table, tasted and duly praised before the conversation turned personal. Trish opened things up with an innocent question: “Where do you work, Sara?”

Sara swallowed some food before answering nonchalantly. “At home, for the most part. This week I’ve been working from Nick’s place, taking advantage of his DSL.”

“Will you be staying long?” Another innocuous question, but it started a chill forming in the pit of my stomach.

“I go back home Sunday,” Sara answered.

“I’m sorry,” Trish commiserated. “Long distance relationships are so hard on everyone.”

Sara and I looked at each other, and a decision was made. “It’s only for a few weeks,” I said, preparing myself for the jump over the cliff. “Once I’ve wound up things here, I’ll be moving down to Raleigh with her.”

With all the fretting I’d done up to that point, I thought I was prepared. I thought I’d anticipated every possible reaction.

I was wrong.

Bob’s eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth turned upward in a twisted smile. I knew it, his eyes seemed to say. I fucking knew it.

Trish, meanwhile, stood up and hugged us both in turn. “This is wonderful,” she said tearfully. “I’m really happy for you both.”

“When did you decide this?” Bob asked, his voice gentle and even.

“Last weekend,” I answered truthfully. “I know it’s sudden, and I know it sounds crazy because we only just met in person, but it doesn’t feel crazy. It feels like what I’ve been wanting for a long time.”

“You’ve been alone way too long, Nick,” Trish said. “I think it’s great. I do.”

“Speaking of ‘I do’,” Bob added. “Any plans for marriage?”

Hoo boy, I thought to myself. How far do I want to push this?

Sara saved me. “Not right away,” she said, smiling. “There are a lot of things we still need to learn about each other first.” That got approving nods from Bob and from Trish.

The conversation veered into the details of what I was going to do with my various clients and obligations. I answered on autopilot, part of my mind focused on the conversation and part on watching for signs of my friends’ true feelings about the bomb I’d dropped on them. Bob’s manner didn’t change at all from the wry, thoughtful look he’d taken on when I made my announcement. Trish projected the picture of sincere happiness. I started to think that maybe I’d underestimated them; maybe they really were happy for us.

Dinner concluded in a buzz of small talk. Trish got up to start clearing dishes; Sara and I rose to help her, but Bob put a hand on my shoulder. “We can handle this,” Trish said indicating herself and Sara. “Why don’t you guys go warm up the sofa?” The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I followed Bob into the living room.

“Helluva curve you threw us,” Bob remarked as we settled into adjacent easy chairs.

I smiled thinly. “You didn’t seem overly surprised.”

“Can’t say that I am,” he admitted. “Something about the way you two sat together in the Bronco. And, I talked to Sylvia a couple of hours ago. She wanted to make sure I wouldn’t go apeshit when you broke the news.”

“Would you have, if she hadn’t warned you?”

“Maybe. You dated my sister for three years and wouldn’t even move in with her; now it looks like you’re ditching your whole life to chase some girl you met last week. It doesn’t just seem crazy, Nick, it is a little crazy.”

“Maybe it is,” I said, “but I don’t think so. You don’t know Sara, Bob. She—”

“You’re right,” he interrupted, “I don’t know her. I know Shannon likes her, and Sylvia likes her, and that’s about it. But you don’t know her either. All I’m saying is, you should get to know her before you do anything irreversible.”

His argument was perfectly reasonable, of course, but there were facts he didn’t know about. “It’s not that simple,” I said.

“Why not?” he challenged. “You’re both self-employed, so your schedule is more or less your own. She can take her work with her when she travels, and so can you. Why not try the long distance thing for a while, getting together every couple of weeks in one place or the other? Why not have her come up here for a longer time? Why do you have to be the one to blow off his life and his friends?”

I sighed deeply. “Because there’s more than just two people involved, Bob.”

He nodded fiercely. “That’s what I’m saying, pal. There’s a lot more than just the two of you to think about here.”

“No, Bob,” I countered, shaking my head. “You don’t understand. I mean, there is a third person in this relationship with me and Sara. We’re not a couple, we’re a triad.”

This time I got the dumbfounded reaction I had been expecting at dinner. “Run that by me again?”

“It’s a polyamorous relationship, Bob. Sara, me, and a woman named Isobel. I love them both; they love me and each other. They’ve invited me into their home and into their lives, and I’ve decided that I want that.”

I could see Bob struggling with it. “Where is this Isobel, then?”

“Back in Raleigh,” I explained. “She’s a doctor, and she couldn’t cancel a week’s worth of patients to come up here right now. But she’s no less a part of this relationship, and of my life, than Sara is.”

Bob’s shoulders dropped. “Sylvia did not tell me that,” he said resignedly.

“Sylvia doesn’t know. I stopped short of telling her because she seemed freaked out about the move. In fact, nobody up here knows about Isobel except you.”

Our eyes met for a long second. “You’re serious about all this, aren’t you?”

“Totally,” I confirmed.

“And you want, what? My blessing?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

He paused a long time. “This I cannot do,” he finally said. “I think you’re making a massive mistake, and I can’t pretend that I approve. All I can say is, I hope to God I’m wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” Trish asked, her upbeat voice as she and Sara joined in stark contrast to the somber tones Bob and I had fallen into.

My eyes found Sara’s and I let my disappointment show through them in silence. Understanding flowed back, with support and love.

“Never mind,” Bob demurred.

The rest of the evening was gruesome. Bob and I played our parts, making happy small talk, pretending everything was okay. Trish and Sara conspired with us, ignoring the obvious tension, laughing a little too easily and nervously. Eventually someone came out with an “Oh my, look at the time!” and Sara and I took our leave.

The misery hovered over us in the car like a thick, dark cloud. I drove in silence, imagining the scene behind us as Bob filled Trish in on our after-dinner discussion. Sara let me stew, holding my hand to let me know she’d be there when I was ready.

By the time we reached the apartment I felt twenty years older. I dropped my keys on the hall table and sank listlessly into the living room sofa. Sara sat next to me and folded my body into hers.

“Pretty bad, wasn’t it?” she prompted gently.

I snuggled in closer. “You could say so. He says I’m making a massive mistake, that I’m blowing off my life and my friends ... shall I continue?”

“That’s up to you,” she replied. “Do you want to?”

“No,” I said. “I want to go to my zero room.”

“Okay,” Sara agreed. “We’ll go there together. Relax, Nick, and come back to your zero room with me ...”

My body melted into hers, and with a deep sigh I found myself riding the elevator down, Sara’s hand in mine. A feeling of peace and safety grew stronger as the floors counted down. The elevator slowed and then stopped gently, the doors sliding open with a faint ding.

Sara and I strolled into the zero room together. It was exactly as I’d left it: the white leather daybed and end tables waiting, the soothing whiteness of it all acting as a salve for my soul. We curled up together on the daybed.

“Feeling better?” she asked me, her fingers lightly stroking my temples.

“Much better,” I breathed. “I want to stay here.”

Sara smiled. “For a while.”

We drifted quietly for a while. At some point—maybe a minute, maybe an hour—my mouth opened and words started coming out. “I pretty much knew Bob would have trouble with this,” I heard myself say, “but despite knowing, I still hoped. I wanted him to accept it, to be happy, to tell me I was doing the right thing. At some level, I guess I was thinking that if even Bob agreed, I couldn’t possibly be making a mistake.”

“And now?”

“And now, there’s a little voice in the back of my head saying that maybe Bob is right. He was right when he predicted that VHS would win out over Beta; he was right when he told me I’d be better off as my own boss than as a drone in an IT sweatshop; he was right when he suggested I see a hypnotist to help me quit smoking. What if he’s right now, too?”

There was a long pause before Sara spoke. “I don’t know,” she said.

“Neither do I. But I do know that I won’t find out by playing it safe.”

I rose from the daybed with renewed energy and marched to the elevator. The floor rose up below me and my eyes opened. I wasn’t overly surprised to find myself in the bedroom, in Sara’s arms. We undressed each other slowly and silently, reluctant to break contact even for a moment. When all the clothing was gone, I put Sara on her back and looked deeply into her eyes.

“Relax, Sara,” I told her in my smooth, rhythmic voice. “Close your eyes and relax, darling. Relax and let go for me. You took good care of me, now let me take care of you.” Sara smiled and sighed as her eyes rolled up and closed. I kept talking to her, relaxing and deepening her, all the while slowly making my way down her body to the moist, warm center. I adored her, using everything I’d learned to bring her to climax after climax. When she seemed nearly spent I slipped inside her and we rocked each other into bliss one more time. I went to sleep with my arms around her, and dreamed.

In my dream, I was with Sara and Isobel on a hilltop overlooking the sea. We had a blanket spread out, and we were making love in the moonlight. I was going down on Isobel, listening to her moan with pleasure, while Sara rubbed my shoulders. When Isobel came, shuddering and gasping, I turned over and Sara mounted me, sitting straight up, her breasts begging to be squeezed and fondled. I obliged, and soon Sara was arching her back and quivering.

It was then that I noticed the orange glow that illuminated the three of us, and looked out to sea. There I saw three majestic ships afloat just off the shore, their masts and rigging clearly visible in the flickering light of the flames that engulfed their decks.

The ships were burning.

The image of the burning ships was still with me through my morning run the next day. My body ran on autopilot while my mind recalled the story of Hernan Cortez, the 16th-century explorer who conquered the Aztecs. According to numerous corporate speakers, Cortez ordered his ships burned shortly after landing—the idea being that with no way to turn back, his men would be highly motivated to succeed in battle.

Was that what I was doing?

It certainly looked that way. Once my plan was complete I’d have no source of income in Baltimore and no apartment to come back to. Still, I decided I was no Cortez. If I really wanted to come back to Baltimore, it wouldn’t be that hard to find a new apartment and pick up new clients or win back old ones. I’d have a ready-made support network in Bob, Sylvia and company. I might be burning my ships, but there would be others available if I needed them.

I didn’t expect to need them.