Photogenic

(c) Copyright 1999 by Wiseguy

5/99




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 to 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 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 best friends 
in college was a psych major.  I let her practice on 
me, and in return she taught me how to hypnotize other 
people.  It was a very useful skill; we used it to 
manage stress, improve our memories, and get rid of a 
few bad habits.  And once in a while one of us would 
hypnotize a couple of our sorority sisters or their 
boyfriends and make a few goofy but harmless 
suggestions.  She transferred out after our sophomore 
year, and I just stopped practicing it 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 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.


Russell was as good as his word.  Two days later he 
hand delivered the proofs from Lauren's shoot.  The 
processing quality was exceptional, they all felt and 
looked like top-dollar portraits.  He also made a 
point of presenting me with the negatives and assuring 
me that he had processed the pictures himself and 
shredded the wasted sheets.

Lauren was thrilled when she and Gina came by to see 
them.  "Oh my god, is that really me?"

"It's you all right," Gina assured her.  "Post some of 
these on the Internet and you'll be the most 
downloaded woman in history."  

Gina picked out about six of the best non-nudes to 
show to the lingerie company.  David offered to have a 
scrapbook made up for Lauren at no charge if she 
wanted to choose some for herself.  She thanked him 
profusely and selected about 12 proofs, all from the 
post-hypnotic session, including several topless and 
nude photos from the end of the shoot.  "I want to be 
able to look at these whenever some agency suit tells 
me I'm not sultry enough," she explained.  David 
blushed a little, I guess remembering his own reaction 
to her.

Our business concluded, Lauren seemed inclined to hang 
around.  "Is there something else we can do for you, 
Lauren?" I asked, suspecting what the answer might be.

"There is one thing."  She looked over at Gina.  "Gina 
has me scheduled to meet with the lingerie people 
tomorrow afternoon.  They are going to want me to 
audition for them.  I'll have to talk to them and walk 
around for them in skimpy underwear, and I'm a little 
nervous about it.  Do you think you could, well ..." Her 
voice trailed off, and I could see pleading in her 
eyes.

"Hypnotize you again?" I concluded. "To help you feel 
more confident for your audition?"  

Lauren nodded several times.  "Please?   I want that 
job so much, and they won't want me if I look 
nervous."

I led Lauren back to the dressing room, where the good 
chair was.  "Have a seat and get comfortable."

After a few moments of wriggling in the chair, she 
pronounced herself ready.  "Do I start staring into 
the mirror now?"

"Not necessary.  Time out, Lauren."

She resisted for a second or two, watching herself in 
the mirror as her body turned to rags and her head 
became too busy to hold up.  She quickly gave in to 
the inevitable as her eyes closed, settling into the 
chair with a deep and satisfied sigh.  

"Very good, Lauren.  You remembered to respond to your 
trigger. You can use that same trigger on yourself if 
you wish, as often as you wish.  Just go to a safe, 
comfortable place and imagine my voice saying 'Time 
out'.  Every time you do that you will go deeper into 
relaxation and feel greater pleasure."

"Okay."

"Now, Lauren, think about the pictures you saw of 
yourself today.  Remember how totally irresistible you 
are, how sexy and confident you felt during the 
shooting here.  Remembering those feelings has a 
marvelous affect on you -- those feelings are coming 
back to you right now, as powerful as they were during 
the shooting.  You feel strong, sexy, vibrant, in 
control, and absolutely self-assured.  Do you feel it, 
Lauren?"

"Mmmmm, yes ..."

"Good.  This is very important, Lauren.  The way you 
feel right now is perfectly natural, perfectly okay.  
It is how a model needs to feel about herself in order 
to succeed.  You will find that this feeling of power, 
of seductiveness, of control, will tend to return to 
you any time you are auditioning or working.  If you 
ever find yourself feeling uncomfortable or nervous, 
you can close your eyes for a moment and take a deep 
breath.  As you do, the feelings you are experiencing 
now will return to you.  Each breath will make those 
feelings stronger, until you are completely at ease 
and confident.  The more you practice this the more 
effective it will be for you.  Do you understand?"

"I understand.  Thank you for this wonderful feeling."

 I heard later from Gina that Lauren wowed the 
lingerie people at her audition.  A few months later 
she was on the cover of a nationwide edition of their 
summer catalog.


The success of Lauren's session left no more doubts in 
either of our minds -- we were going to do boudoir, and 
we were going to do it better than anyone.  We built a 
big, permanent set with several looks that could be 
changed quickly and easily.  We also assembled a huge 
wardrobe of intimate wear for every body size and 
taste, from shiny black leather to pink flannel.  I 
quickly discovered that my success in hypnotizing 
Lauren was more a reflection on her ability than mine; 
it took me a bit of time and some serious study to 
regain my hypnotic skills.  Gradually I put together a 
good repertoire of induction techniques and time-
tested suggestions that worked most of the time.  My 
rediscovered talent kept the models feeling 
comfortable, in control, and aroused enough to show on 
film but not so much that David would have to fight 
them off.  The women seemed to take to David almost on 
sight, and his patient, deliberate, supportive manner 
put them at ease quickly.  And Russell turned out to 
be a real find.  His print work was so good we never 
did upgrade our own darkroom.  Between the three of 
us, we got great results from every client.  Yes, even 
Gina -- she was the first person we photographed on the 
new set, and her husband still sends us Christmas 
cards. 

Months passed and we kept very busy, setting our 
session prices by the appointment book method:  when 
we felt the book was getting too full, we raised our 
prices.   As much as we enjoyed the boudoir work, we 
wanted to be true to our original intent.  We limited 
our boudoir calendar to one or at most two sessions 
per day, which still left time for the commercial and 
family portrait work that had sustained us through the 
first year.  I was getting used to the idea of David 
as a platonic friend and partner, although on some 
level I was still waiting for an opportunity.

My opportunity came in an unexpected form.  Stephanie, 
the prodigal girlfriend, called to make a lunch date 
with David.  I heard him agree to meet her at a 
restaurant across town and hang up.  

"It's been a while since you two had any time 
together, hasn't it?" I asked him.  It had been at 
least six weeks by my reckoning.  

He shrugged.  "She's been busy, we've been busy."  
It's so hard to read David, but I thought (hoped?) I 
heard a hint of resignation in his voice.  "I'd better 
get going."

Less than a minute after his car pulled away, a tall, 
willowy figure strode through the studio door.  She 
had a model's practiced walk, short black hair styled 
carefully so as to seem unstyled.   Her long coat 
parted at the front as she moved, revealing a casual 
yet elegant knit top and slacks.  

"Stephanie?"  As usual, my vocabulary withered in the 
face of surprise.  "You're not supposed to be here."

"I need five minutes with you, Jen.  Can we talk?"

"Umm ... sure.  Do you want to use the office?"  

"Definitely."  She headed for the office immediately, 
assuming I would follow.  Stephanie and I had 
exchanged maybe 15 sentences since we first met, so I 
knew something had to be up.  This is either going to 
be very good news or very bad, I thought.

Stephanie closed the door behind me and leaned against 
it, looking upward.  She took a couple of deep breaths 
and brought her gaze back down to me.  "I've seen the 
way you look at David.  Does he know how you feel 
about him?"

All I could do was stare.  Was it that obvious?

"It's okay, Jen, I'm not here to play the jealous 
girlfriend," she assured me.  "I just want to know how 
far things have gone between you two."

"We have a very good business relationship," I told 
her.  "Nothing else."

Was that disappointment in her face?  "That's David, 
all right," she mused.  "Too many scruples for his own 
good.  He should have dumped me for you long ago.  It 
would have been so much easier."

She wasn't going to get an argument from me on that.  
I kept quiet and waited for my new confidant to get to 
the point.

"Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I'm meeting David 
for lunch at Toscani's.  We're going to have a nice 
friendly lunch, catch up on all the who's and what's.  
And at some point in that conversation I'm going to 
tell David that I've started seeing someone else."

Which was exactly what I wanted to hear, but at the 
time it felt like a blow to the stomach.  To make 
things even crazier, I found myself fighting back a 
growing moral outrage on David's behalf.  "Why are you 
telling me this?"

"Because we both know he won't tell you himself.  I 
just want you to know that if you can pry him out of 
his shell, now is your chance."

"So this is strictly for my benefit."  I wasn't buying 
it.

"Okay, that's not all.  By telling you, I now know 
that I can't chicken out at the last minute; I have to 
tell him before he sees you again.  David has never 
been anything but honest with me, and I feel like a 
louse for cheating on him, but ..."  Her voice just 
trailed off.

My head was spinning, half a dozen different thoughts 
screaming to get out.  Finally, I settled on the 
safest one.  "I'll take care of him.  Thank you."

Stephanie shot me a relieved look, then held up her 
watch.  "Gotta go."  We locked eyes for a moment and 
shared a nod and then she was gone as abruptly as she 
had come in.  I got to the glass storefront just in 
time to see her duck into a waiting sports car driven 
by a good-looking man in an open shirt.  Neither one 
looked back as they disappeared into the stream of 
traffic.


Twenty minutes later I was still staring out the front 
window, a storm of related thoughts swirling through 
my mind.  I knew I wanted to sleep with David, but did 
I want it for the right reasons?  Was I willing to 
risk a failed relationship and possibly a ruined 
business too?  How much should I say, and when?

I needed clarity, and I needed it soon.  I had an hour 
before I estimated David would return, another 30 
minutes after that before our last boudoir appointment 
of the day.  Time enough if I used it wisely.  

I went back to the office, forwarded the phones to 
voice mail and put on some soft instrumental music.  
Then I settled into a small sofa in the office, my 
shoes off and my jeans open and unzipped for easier 
circulation.  I took three deep, slow breaths, and 
willed my body and mind to relax.  With each breath in 
I envisioned the tensions gathering like electrical 
sparks in my forehead.  With each breath out I 
pictured that energy as blue lines rushing out of my 
body and disappearing into the cushions of the sofa, 
like lightning drawn off by a lightning rod.  That 
imagery has always been very effective for me, and 
within a few minutes I felt myself drifting off into 
my personal sanctuary.  

When I hypnotize myself I don't always have specific 
suggestions in mind; just the act of going into trance 
and coming out again is usually enough to banish 
stress and clear up my mind.  This time would be 
different, though.  This time I needed to ask myself 
some tough questions.  

Still picturing myself in my safe, quiet room, I 
imagined that my subconscious was now in the room as 
well, in the form of my favorite childhood toy -- a 
Magic 8 Ball.  Like a Chevruel pendulum, my 
subconscious would use the Magic 8 Ball to provide yes 
or no answers to simple questions.  I pictured the 
ball in my hands, pictured myself turning it over 
several times in my lap then asking, "Am I ready to 
explore the questions that are troubling me?"  The 
ball turned over of its own accord, and shortly the 
answer rose from within its murky depths:  'You May 
Rely On It'

I turned the ball over again, satisfied that I was 
sufficiently relaxed to continue.  "Do I really want a 
romantic relationship with David?"

'Yes -- Definitely.'

"Do I want it for the right reasons?"

The ball remained still for a long time before 
answering.  'Reply Hazy, Try Again.'

Okay, reword the question.  "I know that I have a 
strong physical craving for David.  Is a sexual 
relationship all that I want with him?"

'Relax' said the ball.  I sent a couple waves of extra 
relaxation from head to toe and felt myself settling 
down again.  The ball's message changed to 'Very 
Doubtful.'

"Is David interested in me?"  I was trying to tap into 
my own intuition here.  

'Signs Point to Yes'

"If we start a relationship and it fails, will we 
still be able to work together?"

'Cannot Predict Now'  Okay, that's fair.

"Am I willing to risk losing the business to gain the 
relationship I want with David?"

A very long pause for this one.  I concentrated on 
breathing and staying relaxed, following the music, 
holding onto that feeling of complete detachment.  I 
couldn't afford to let my conscious self influence the 
outcome.  Finally, the Magic 8 Ball rolled over and 
displayed its answer:  'As I See It, Yes'

Just to make sure:  "Did my conscious mind influence 
that last answer?"

'My Reply Is No'  I did not feel a surge of relief, 
just continued detachment.  A good sign, I would 
realize later.

"Would it be better for me to take the initiative 
instead of waiting for David to approach me?"

No hesitation this time.  'Most Likely'

"Thank you very much."  I set the Magic 8 Ball aside 
and watched it fade away.  The session had gone well, 
so I gave myself permission to let go completely until 
the end of the music tape.  I felt myself sinking 
deeper into the couch, letting go, drifting ... 

I woke up to the CLICK! of the tape player's automatic 
shut-off.  All of my confusion and anxieties were 
gone.  I knew exactly what I wanted and felt confident 
of achieving it, knowing I could work out a plan at my 
leisure.  Fixing my clothing, I checked the desk.  The 
message waiting light on the telephone glowed red, and 
the time display showed that I'd been out for 45 
minutes -- David would be back soon.

The phone message was from Claire, a boudoir client 
scheduled for the following week who needed to 
reschedule.  That was easy to take care of, and it 
gave me an idea.  Instead of offering the opening to a 
client (we keep a special list of those interested in 
taking advantage of cancellations), I crossed out 
Claire's name in the appointment book and wrote 
"Jennifer D." in its place.  I knew David would see 
it, but would he see through it?  I felt like the 
foreplay had already begun.


David returned a little later than I expected, only 
ten minutes before our afternoon boudoir client was 
due.  

"I'm really sorry, Jen.  I had no idea it would be 
such a long lunch."  He seemed like his normal self, 
not overly flustered, just annoyed at himself for 
running late.  I couldn't tell whether Stephanie had 
told him or not, and we couldn't afford to get 
sidetracked then by discussing it.  My pulse quickened 
for a few beats as he checked the appointment book.  
"Yikes!" he exclaimed, tapping the name of the client 
who was due any minute.  

"I'll help you get the gear ready," I offered.
 
"Not necessary, I can catch up while you prep her."  

The client was right on time, so I put the personal 
issue aside to give her my undivided attention.  By 
the time I had her fully prepared  with makeup, 
wardrobe, and hypnotic suggestions David was ready.  
In front of the client he was absolutely his normal, 
professional self.  We kept our focus on the client 
and had a very successful session.  

With the client on her way home, it was time to find 
out what had happened at lunch.  With David a direct 
approach is usually best.  "So," I began, "what 
brought Stephanie to town?"  

Perhaps my tone betrayed something, because I saw a 
shadow cross David's face.  It was gone almost 
immediately and replaced with his normal, relaxed 
expression.  His eyes lingered on me for a moment or 
two longer than normal before he replied, "Personal 
business."  Then he pointedly returned to unloading 
the camera in his hand.  

That was my signal to butt out, but I wasn't about to 
do it.  Unlike Stephanie, I knew that David would tell 
me everything once assured that I really wanted to 
know.  I gave him my strongest you-can-talk-to-me look 
as I asked, "Are you two okay?"  

He sighed, still concentrating on the camera.  "It's 
been a long time since Steph and I were really okay, I 
guess.  Too many other things get in the way."

"Relationships like yours are hard to maintain," I 
offered.  "Busy schedules, different priorities.  It's 
bound to be tough on everyone."

That got him looking back at me.  "I guess so.  Steph 
said almost the same thing and I couldn't disagree.  
Anyway, the relationship is over.  Today was sort of a 
closing ceremony.  Misty-eyed reminiscing, fond 
farewells, we'll always be good friends, etc."

"David, I'm sorry."

"So am I," he replied.  "I'll get over it, of course.  
Everybody does."

"Is there anything I can do?"

 "Just put up with me for the next few days until the 
worst is over.  I'll try to keep my mouth under 
control."

"You talk as much as you need to, David.  It's okay."

He gave me a wry smile.  "We'll see.  Don't let me go 
maudlin on you, okay?"

We spent the next few hours in the office doing the 
mundane paperwork that builds up in any small 
business.  David surprised me by suggesting a late 
dinner at a blues club a few blocks away.  Naturally I 
took him up on it.  We didn't talk about the breakup 
any more, but the steady rhythms of the blues music 
seemed to be comforting to him.  We made party 
conversation -- nothing too heavy, no business -- and 
drank as we listened.  After a little while, David 
fell silent.

"This is such a cliché," I remarked.  "Is this really 
a good way to avoid depression?"

"Shhh," he replied.  "Just listen a few minutes."

So I did.  I was always a rock and roll lover myself, 
so I'd heard a lot of blues songs but never really 
paid much attention to them.  Now, with no Aerosmith 
or Rolling Stones in the mix, I started to feel the 
healing power of good blues music.  The rhythms, 
strong but gentle, worked their way into my brain and 
I found myself relaxing with each slow, heavy beat.  
After a little while David ordered another round, 
bringing me out of my reverie.

"Blues is not about being depressed," he volunteered.  
"The essence of blues is hope.  No matter how bad 
things get today, we always seem to keep on going.  We 
carry our grief for a while, then life goes on."

"And the experience makes us stronger?" I added.

"Not always.  Some of us are destined to keep 
repeating our mistakes.  Bad karma, unlucky in love, 
call it what you like.  It doesn't matter.  The song 
is still about surviving the sadness, not wallowing in 
it."

"I'm beginning to understand, I think."  I let my eyes 
close and leaned back against my seat, letting my head 
fall back to rest on the cushioned booth wall.  "It's 
so relaxing, so comforting."  I looked back at David 
and he was doing the same thing, leaning back against 
the bench, eyes closed.  Temptation rose up within me, 
or maybe it was just too much wine.  I lowered my 
voice and continued speaking to him, slowly and 
deliberately.  "So easy to just sit back, relax, let 
yourself drift along with the rhythms of the music.  
Not thinking about anything in particular, just 
concentrating totally on the beating of the drum, the 
quiet guitar riffs, the pure emotion in the singer's 
voice.  Let the music surround you and carry you 
deeper, deeper into itself, slow and easy, leaving 
your body behind to just rest."

I was a drink over my usual limit, and the David's 
beer glass had seen at least 3 refills by my count.  
These are not ideal circumstances for a hypnotic 
session, but my improvised induction talk seemed to be 
working.  His face went slack, the mouth falling open 
as his head turned ever so slowly to the side.

"It's so nice sitting here like this, relaxing, 
listening to the soothing sounds of the music and my 
voice.  The longer you listen to the music, the more 
deeply it relaxes you.  The more deeply you relax, the 
more you can concentrate on the music.  Nothing else 
needs your attention, nothing but my voice and the 
music.  The music and my voice.  Let your conscious 
self float along with the music, while your inner mind 
listens to my voice.  Trust me, David.  Let go, follow 
the music, and trust me."

Within a few minutes his body let go completely 
leaving him slouched against the side of the booth, 
his breathing soft and slow, his eyelids fluttering a 
little as his eyes moved rapidly beneath them.  For a 
moment I thought he had slipped into sleep.

"Can you still hear me, David?"

"Mm Hmm."

That's good.  "You can speak clearly to me David.  
Speaking to me will not disturb you at all, in fact it 
will help you to relax even more.  Every word you say, 
every word you hear me say, will relax you more and 
more.  Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Alcohol normally interferes with concentration, which 
hinders hypnosis, so I hadn't really expected the 
induction to work.  With no particular plan and the 
wine buzz occupying more of my brain, I just watched 
him in silence for a few minutes.  I was half in a 
trance myself, and the music kept trying to pull me 
further down.  As I studied David's slack face I 
became aware of a strong, moist heat radiating from 
between my legs.  At the same time, I started noticing 
the sensations in my breasts as my simple knit sheath 
dress stretched and moved against my nipples.  I 
pressed my thighs tightly together, although I still 
don't know whether that was meant to contain the 
feeling or to savor it.  My id was screaming at me to 
go down on him right then and there, but despite the 
wine my better judgment prevailed.

"How do you feel, David?"

"Strange," was his answer.  "Sad.  Peaceful.  Good.  
All at once."

"These are good, normal feelings, David.  It's natural 
to feel sad when a relationship ends.  At the same 
time, when two people have been growing apart over 
time it feels good to finally acknowledge that and go 
your separate ways.  You and Stephanie have been 
growing apart, David.  The real relationship was over 
a long time ago, it just took until today for you both 
to recognize it.  In a few days you will find that you 
are more relieved than sad about the breakup.  Every 
time you think about Stephanie you will remember the 
joy of the good times but the sadness and bad memories 
will fade like a photograph in the sun.  Trust me, 
David, it will happen."

"I trust you, Jen."

"Thank you, David.  Go ahead and think about Stephanie 
right now.  Think about her as if you last saw her a 
year ago, remembering the fun times, while those sad 
memories fade away."  I gave him a few minutes, 
watching a gentle smile crease his face.  "How do you 
feel now, David?"

"Happy," he said.  "Contented.  Getting a little 
horny."

I almost lost it.  My hand hovered just an inch over 
his zipper, longing to reach inside, but I held firm -- 
not here, not now.  Soon, I promised myself, but not 
tonight.  "Yes, this music is very sensual, isn't it?  
I find it very seductive.  Isn't it good to know that 
whenever we want to feel good like this, we can listen 
to some blues and recapture the feelings we have right 
now?"  

"Yes."

"I think so too, David.  From now on, we will always 
find blues music to be incredibly arousing, putting us 
in the mood for slow, delicious sex.  Don't you like 
that idea, David?"

"Sure."

"Very good.  Soon it will be time to wake up from your 
rest, David.  When I count to five you will wake up 
completely, feeling refreshed and content.  Your 
waking self will remember only that you dozed off 
listening to the music, but your inner mind will 
remember all.  One, two, three, four, five."

David's eyes popped open and he sat up with a jerk.  
"Jesus, Jen, I'm sorry.  I've never done that before."

"It's okay, you've had a rough day."

A curious expression came over him.  He was studying 
my face closely.  "Are you all right, Jen?  You look 
flushed."

Oops -- I should have told him not to notice anything 
odd.  My sex drive was fully engaged, and there was no 
way to hide it completely.  "Too much wine," I 
suggested.  "Maybe I'd better go freshen up a little."  

The ladies' room was mercifully empty.  I splashed 
some cold water on my face, dampened a small wad of 
paper towels with cold water and squeezed it between 
my thighs.  It was going to take more than a little 
cool water to make the heat go away, but I felt much 
more in control as I touched up my makeup.

When I got back to the table, David had already paid 
the check and looked ready to go.  

"Calling it a night?" I asked.

"Since I can't seem to stay awake on my own, I might 
as well.  See you tomorrow?"

"Sure," I said.  "Don't worry about the time, just 
come in when you feel like it.  I can cancel the 
boudoir sessions if you don't feel like doing them."

"No, that wouldn't be fair to the clients.  I'll be 
there."

That voice came back in my head, urging me to jump him 
immediately.  I allowed myself a sisterly hug instead, 
and felt another rush of desire when I felt his arms 
ever so gently encircling me. "Goodnight, David."

"Goodnight, Jen."  He took my hands in his.  "Thanks 
for the company."

"You're welcome, really."  

By the time I got home the wine had worn off, but my 
libido was still raging.  I went to bed early and gave 
in to the dark side, climaxing repeatedly until I was 
too exhausted to stay awake.  


The next several days were surprisingly normal.  David 
was at the studio every day at his normal time.  If my 
customary "How are you doing?" was a bit less casual 
than usual, so was his "Fine."  Every once in a while 
I'd catch him staring into space with a faint smile, 
but he really did seem like his normal self.   I'd 
like to think I helped him with my suggestions at the 
blues club.  Then again, he's a pretty stable guy to 
start with.   

At David's suggestion we took the weekend off instead 
of staying open Saturday for walk-in business.  My 
boudoir appointment was for Tuesday afternoon, so I 
spent much of the weekend thinking about that and 
communing with my Magic 8 Ball to make sure I really 
wanted to go through with it.  I also visited a number 
of music stores.  By Monday I had everything planned 
and prepared.  

I started getting butterflies on the way to work 
Tuesday morning.  Fortunately for me, David would be 
out doing a location shoot for one of Gina's clients 
until after lunch.  That left me alone in the studio 
to handle the portrait sittings, which kept me just 
busy enough to stay focused.  I saw David check the 
appointment book before leaving.  If he suspected 
anything about "Jennifer D." it didn't show.

By the time David returned, everything I needed was in 
place.  Since there was still a good hour before the 
appointment, David retired to the darkroom to do some 
preliminary prints.  We used Russell's lab for all of 
our final print work, but still we often do an initial 
print run to weed out the non-contenders.  I had 
anticipated that and taken the liberty of turning up 
the thermostat ever so slightly.  I wanted him to come 
out thirsty.

About fifteen minutes before the appointment, when I 
judged David would be about done, I poured him an icy-
cold glass of iced tea (his favorite beverage) and 
brought it in to him.  "The client's here," I told him 
truthfully.  "I'll start getting her prepped."  

David took the glass from me and drank deeply.  "Mmmm, 
I needed that.  Thanks, Jen.  I'll be ready in a few 
minutes."

Yes you will, I thought as I headed for the dressing 
room.  Behind the closed door, I removed the small 
glass bottle from my pants pocket and set it on the 
makeup counter.  It was still mostly full, despite the 
fact that Gina had given it to me the week after 
Lauren's trial session.  "This is what people use who 
don't have your skill, dear," she had told me.  "It's 
usually known as LPR, for liquid pants remover.  It's 
very popular with the adult magazine and video crowd 
because it temporarily erases all inhibitions but 
doesn't interfere with speech or motor skills.  It 
wears off quickly and with no adverse effects.  Give a 
model 2 or 3 drops in a beverage, wait 20 minutes, and 
she'll do anything you tell her to for an hour."

Smiling with anticipation, I released two drops into a 
short glass of water and drank it down.  There was a 
very slight bitter taste, but David hadn't seemed to 
notice.  "That's it," I told my reflection in the 
mirror.  "You're committed now."

One eye kept stealing glances at the clock as I 
changed into a satin cover-up and worked on my hair 
and base makeup.   I pulled out the barrettes that 
normally hold my hair up to frame my face, then got 
out the blow drier and some mousse.  I had practiced 
this look over the weekend -- still the same medium 
brown, straight locks folded back at the sides but I 
gave it a fuller, windswept look.  It followed every 
movement of my head with a natural flow, neither too 
glued down nor too free.  Perfect.  I took equal care 
with my face, accentuating my chocolate-colored eyes 
and just equalizing the tones in my face without 
looking too made up.  A subdued lipstick added the 
finishing touch.  

It was a good half hour after I had brought David his 
drink when I heard him knock at the dressing room 
door.  "Anybody home?"

I opened the door, still in only the satin cover-up.  
David's jaw dropped and his eyes opened as widely as 
I've ever seen them.  They looked me all over, more 
than once in a couple of places, before meeting mine 
again.   "Surprised?" I asked.

Shaking his head, he replied, "Very sneaky, 'Jennifer 
D.'  I never made the connection.  Who's going to be 
our chaperone?"

"We don't need one," I answered.  "Trust me."  Then I 
closed the door between us.  

Slipping off the robe, I took a long look at myself in 
the full-length mirror.  Shoulders square and strong.  
Breasts 38D, still holding up well against gravity 
with minimal help.  Tummy, could be leaner but flat 
enough to draw hungry looks at the beach.  Legs long, 
a little on the muscular side but kept smooth and soft 
by daily moisturizing.  Butt, firm.  

I decided a little body makeup might be in order.  
Just a little powder here and there, to keep from 
shining too much under the lights.  The powder puff 
lingered over my bare nipples, teasing them into 
erection.  I found it fun to watch them react.  Then I 
thought, why not?  I picked up my lipstick and slowly, 
deliberately painted them, savoring the sensation of 
smooth lipstick against sensitive skin.  I'd never 
done that before, but it seemed like a perfect idea at 
the time.  I felt so relaxed, so calm.  In the mirror 
I saw that my pupils were a little bit dilated, but I 
didn't care.  They looked sexier that way.

Now for the wardrobe.  Remembering David's reaction to 
Lauren, I had chosen an apricot-colored pajama with 
string-tie boxers, three-quarter sleeved, in pure 
silk.  I'd set aside a brand new thong panty as well, 
but changed my mind -- I didn't intend to be wearing 
anything for long, the shorts and top would be enough.  
I pulled the shorts up and tied them loosely, so they 
just barely clung to my hips.  I slipped the top on 
slowly, luxuriating in the feel of the silk against my 
skin.   With one eye on the side view mirror, I 
buttoned only the middle two buttons of the pajama 
shirt, allowing the V-shaped neckline to gap freely.  
If I stood just right, I could see my right breast in 
profile all the way to the nipple.

"Ready," I announced as I emerged from the dressing 
room.  David had finished his tea, I could see, and by 
the way his eyes were exploring me I had no doubt that 
the drug was working.  "How do I look?"

"Wow," he replied immediately, his eyes focused 
intently on my visible cleavage.  "You look amazing.  
I always thought you'd look great without clothes on -- 
oops, I mean ..."  He actually blushed.  It was so cute; 
I had to string him along a little.

"Play your cards right, and who knows?"  

David grinned.  "Shall we begin?"

I opted to start on the divan, a fairly new addition 
to the boudoir set.  David adjusted the tripod and 
lighting a little, then started shooting.   I let 
myself relax completely against the side of the divan, 
draping my right arm along the back and letting my 
left arm fall toward the floor, causing the pajama 
neckline to open up wide.  Bending my left knee to let 
the hemline of the shorts slide up my thigh, I focused 
my eyes on the blackness in the center of the camera 
lens and thought, "You're mine."

We spent several minutes and a full roll of film on 
the divan as I shifted positions, exposing different 
parts of my body to David's view with each move.  His 
eyes never left me, not even between shots.  When he 
stopped to reload, I suggested we relocate to the bed.  
At the request of a few clients, we had recently added 
an audio system to the set; I had preloaded a very 
special tape while David was in the darkroom, now 
would be a good time to start it up.  I pressed Play 
and slid the remote out of sight in the night stand as 
David signaled he was ready to continue. 

I turned and gave him a full left profile, opening the 
V neck a little with my hand, and strode slowly toward 
the foot of the bed as he started shooting.  His ears 
perked up when he heard Stevie Ray Vaughan coming from 
the audio system.

 "The Sky is Crying," he observed.  "You have great 
taste in music, partner."

The big bed gave me plenty of opportunities to move 
about.  I tried sitting on the edge, looking back over 
my shoulder as the pajama shorts rode up my thighs; 
crawling across the bed toward the camera, letting the 
V neck fall straight down, which let the camera look 
all the way through to my crotch; kneeling up, 
stretching, arms held high to make the top pull away 
from my tummy and show how close the shorts were to 
falling off.  David took shot after shot, getting more 
intense with every new song from the tape.

Stevie Ray soon gave way to Jeff Healey, starting with 
his cover of "Hoochie Coochie Man" -- a very sexy 
version; I recommend it to anyone for stripping.  I 
lay back on the bed, arching my back so David would 
see my distended nipples clearly pushing out against 
the silk shirt.  Dismounting with a flourish, I stood 
before him and slowly, deliberately, unbuttoned the 
top.  I danced and posed in several positions designed 
to make the shirt fall open in the front, making the 
most of the valley between my breasts and the low-
riding shorts.  David kept shooting, talking to me all 
the while.

"Yes, Jen, you are so hot, so sexy," he was saying.  
"Every man who sees these photos will get rock hard 
thinking about you, longing for you.  Try turning to 
your left a little.  God, that's good.  You are just 
oozing sexuality from every pore."  He was really 
getting turned on.  I saw his left hand reach down 
every few minutes to adjust the growing bulge in the 
front of his jeans.

I was still posing against the bed, using the corner 
post the way strippers use the chrome bar, sliding up 
and down with my back to it.  "Keep moving," he 
continued.  "Swaying, side to side, dancing for me.  
Show me you hips.  Let me see you swing them back and 
forth, slow and sexy.  Beautiful, beautiful.  Relax, 
Jen, remember to stay relaxed.  Let the music lead 
you.  Let it take your mind away.  Let go, Jen.  Let 
it happen."

Somewhere deep in my head, it occurred to me that 
David's patter was starting to sound like a hypnotic 
induction.  Who cares, I quickly decided, this is my 
show.  He's as good as mine.  Jeff Healey gave way to 
a long series of vintage Eric Clapton, which was my 
signal to turn up the heat.

Turning my back to David, I spread the pajama top open 
and let it fall to my elbows, holding the loose fabric 
against my nipples.  I let him coach me through 
several poses, front and rear, highlighting my breasts 
and thighs.  Soon David suggested that the top was 
really getting very heavy, very uncomfortable, and I 
would feel much freer if I just let it go.  He was 
right, I felt reborn as I let the silk pajama top fall 
to the floor.

"Excellent, Jen, you must feel so much better now.  
Keep relaxing, keep losing yourself in the music, feel 
yourself growing more and more aroused, more and more 
passionate.  You body is slowing down now, Jen, 
getting tired from all your exertions.  It needs to 
rest, Jen.  It needs a nice, soft bed like the one you 
are standing by.  Feel the bed pulling at you, begging 
you to lay down and let it relieve your tired body."

A thick fog had descended over my brain, I was barely 
conscious of continuing my striptease.  David 
understood, I knew that, because even as he was 
speaking my body felt drained and weary, tired, even 
as the lust continued to build up inside me.  
Stretching out on my back, I let my hands wander all 
over my body.  I fondled my breasts, teasing the 
nipples.  I pressed the silk shorts against my mound, 
feeling the heat being generated within.  My eyes 
became heavy and tired, so I let them close and 
focused completely on the feel of my own hands sliding 
over my skin.  Loose as it was, the drawstring waste 
on my shorts was becoming uncomfortable, binding, so I 
slipped them off slowly and sensuously.  

Through all of this David kept talking, his voice a 
constant companion even though I wasn't really paying 
attention to the words.  I lost myself in the music, 
in the buzzing of his voice, the frequent click of the 
camera.  A sudden overwhelming need came over me, 
energizing my hands as they moved faster across my 
erogenous zones.  My left hand squeezed and teased my 
breasts more insistently than before, while my right 
dove in between my legs, fingers curling and parting 
my lips as I they probed my center.  The pleasure was 
so intense I wanted to come.  I needed to come, but I 
was waiting for something.  What was I waiting for?  
Oh that's right, I was waiting for David.  Waiting for 
him to say ...

"Come now, Jen."

My body bucked like a cowboy on a bull, back arching 
and twisting, legs clenching continuously, arms thrown 
skywards again and again, head flung back and mouth 
wide open.  I had never come that hard before, never.  
The spasms continued for what felt like an hour, again 
and again, sometimes seeming to die down but then 
getting stronger again.  Slowly, I started to realize 
that my hands were both above my head but I still felt 
fingers exploring my sex, sustaining my climax with 
perfect pressure in every conceivable place.  Somehow 
I wrenched my eyes open and saw David seated on the 
edge of the bed next to me, his left hand buried deep 
in me while his right worked unseen inside his own 
jeans.   Another wave of ecstasy threatened to drown 
me as I grabbed his waistband with both hands and 
ripped his jeans open, exposing his marvelous cock.

The moment I saw David's cock, that splendid battering 
ram of an organ, I knew exactly where I wanted it.  
Pulling the pillows behind me for support, I grabbed 
him by the belt loops and plunged the entire shaft 
into my mouth.  As I did his fingers found my G spot 
again and started another set of uncontrollable, 
unbelievable, convulsions.  My lips closed hard 
against his fuselage and I found myself alternately 
sucking and blowing, my lungs trying to pump enough 
air to sustain my tiring muscles.  He was about to 
come, I could feel the tension rising.  Suddenly my 
body just couldn't hold on any longer, I collapsed 
back onto the bed like a rag doll.  Summoning every 
ounce of strength, I reached up with my left hand and 
locked it around his cock, fucking him with my fist as 
hard as I could.  He didn't last long, maybe five or 
six strokes, before his cock exploded in my hand, 
sending spurts after spurt of thick, white liquid 
through my hand and far across the bed.  His fingers 
finally withdrew from my center as his knees buckled 
beneath him.  

Even after his climax, David's cock stayed hard.  My 
hand was still around it when he dropped to his knees 
next to the bed.  He started to pry my hand off, but 
I'd had a few moments to recoup and squeezed harder.  
"I'm not done yet," I told him.  Rolling off the bed, 
I pushed him down to the floor.  Holding his shoulder 
down with my right hand, I reached back with my left 
and tickled his balls, running my finger up and down 
the seam in his scrotum from front to back, stopping 
just short of his anus.  His eyes bugged out and his 
every breath became a groan of delight.  He started to 
shake his head, still looking up at me.

"Do you want me to stop?" I teased him, continuing to 
stimulate that very sensitive area.

"Ugh ... Ugh ... No!"  His left hand reached up below me 
and grabbed onto my breast, sending a sudden jolt 
through my body that made me lose track of what I was 
doing for a moment.  Soon he was kneading my breasts 
in rhythm to my strokes of his genitals and we were 
both heading quickly for another shattering climax.  
When I couldn't stand it anymore, I let go of him and 
climbed on top.  We both gasped as I slammed myself 
down over his immense cock, squeezing with all my 
might.  That sensation alone was enough to rock my 
world and I gave in completely, holding his hands 
tight against my breasts as I shuddered around him.  
Seconds later I felt the unmistakable twitch that told 
me he was about to come too.  Pressing his hands even 
more firmly into my chest, I squeezed down on his 
shaft one more time as I lifted up and dropped down 
again.  He bellowed unintelligibly as he came again, 
writhing and pumping inside me.  The pulsing head 
found another highly sensitized spot inside me and I 
heard myself screaming out loud as each spasm racked 
my exhausted body.

Finally I collapsed on top of David, rolling off onto 
the floor beside him, my body still twitching as the 
orgasm finally began to fade.  I couldn't move, 
couldn't speak, couldn't believe some of the things my 
body had just done.  As my breathing slowed my eyes 
grew heavy again, and as I sunk into deep sleep I 
could just make out the last few strains of my blues 
tape.  



I woke up lying on my side on the bed, the silk pajama 
top just draped over my nude body like a sheet.  
"David?"  I didn't see him.

A few moments later he poked his head into the doorway 
from the office area.  "Hi there."

"Hi, indeed."  I reached up and stretched, making no 
attempt to keep the pajama top from sliding off.

"Are you hungry?" David asked, looking down and away 
as soon as soon as he saw my exposed body.

"Ravenous!"

"I've got some shrimp and egg rolls in the office if 
you like."  He was now talking to the doorframe.

"Sounds delicious." My body felt great, like I'd had a 
full workout followed by massage and steam.  I put the 
pajamas back on since they were handy, but didn't 
bother buttoning the top.  The office had no windows.  

David was waiting for me inside, a series of paper 
food cartons on his desk.  He had showered and dressed 
in clean sweats and a T-shirt.  His eyes met me at the 
door and then dropped to the floor immediately, like a 
schoolboy who knows he is in trouble.  Out of the 
corner of my eye I saw the office clock:  8:20.  I'd 
been asleep for almost three hours.

"What's the matter, David?"

Willing himself to look me in the eye, David took a 
deep breath before speaking.  "I'm sorry, Jen.  I 
don't know what got into me.  I never—"

"Stop," I interjected.  "I know exactly what got into 
me," I continued, looking pointedly at his crotch, 
"and I'd like nothing better than for it to keep 
getting into me regularly."  To underscore my point I 
walked right up to his desk and leaned over him, 
letting the pajama top fall aside and my breasts hang 
down in full view.  He tried valiantly to maintain eye 
contact but failed, his eyes darting down 
instinctively as the silk parted and lingering for a 
full second before he regained control.  A guilty 
blush crept through his face.  "Believe me, David, you 
have absolutely nothing to be sorry about."

"Yes, I do," he insisted, wrenching his gaze away from 
me and fixing it at a spot on the floor.  "Hear me 
out, please."

I decided to back off.  Picking up a carton of food 
and a napkin, I settled onto the office sofa.  I 
buttoned one button on the pajama top and waited, 
eating shrimp fried rice directly from the paper 
carton with a plastic fork.

After a few minutes David seemed to find his words.  
Looking at me again, he started to explain.  "I think 
you know I like you a lot, Jen.  I've been a little 
bit in love with you since we met at the bank.  I knew 
that Steph and I were headed for a breakup eventually, 
so I promised myself that when it finally happened I 
would reach out to you and see if you felt the same 
way.  I almost did it at the blues club, but instead I 
embarrassed myself by getting drunk and dozing off on 
you.  Not the best way to start a relationship.

"When you opened that dressing room door today and I 
realized you were the client, I went a little nuts.  
Having you pose like that has been a fantasy of mine 
since the day we built the first set, but I never 
thought it would really happen.  Most of the women we 
shoot in there get me aroused to a greater or lesser 
degree, but watching you and filming you was too much.  
I lost every bit of my self-control."

I knew why he'd lost it, but now did not seem like the 
time to say so.  I just sat quietly, concentrating on 
his face.

"I love to listen to you hypnotizing the clients.  The 
way you talk when you are putting people under is so 
erotic, I can't get enough of it.  In my fantasy, I 
can do that too.  I use your words, your tempo, to put 
you in a trance and make love with you over and over.  
The more I saw you on that set, real and alive and 
irresistible, the more I wanted to live out the 
fantasy.  I told you to relax, let go, follow the 
music, deeper and deeper, all that.  When I could see 
it was working, I told you to take off your top and 
pose for me some more.  I gave you the idea to start 
feeling yourself up, to take off your shorts, to let 
me feel inside you.  I wasn't concerned with your 
feelings, all I could think about was how much I 
wanted your body right away. I didn't care how wrong 
that was until after it was done, when I saw you 
sleeping on the floor.  I had no business using you 
that way, Jen, and I'm sorry."

He looked so contrite, I couldn't help it -- I laughed.  
"You sneaky bastard," I began in mock outrage.  "After 
all the trouble I went through to seduce you, how DARE 
you take control of the situation and twist it to give 
me the most incredible, mind-blowing sex I've ever 
had?  You cad, you."

"The effort YOU went through?"

"Damn right," I continued.  "Do you think it was easy 
holding back a cancelled boudoir appointment for 
myself?  Hypnotizing you at the blues club so that the 
next time you heard that kind of music you'd get 
turned on and hungry for me?  Doping your iced tea 
with LPR to make sure that noble conscience of yours 
would take the afternoon off?  It was hell, I tell 
you.  Hell!"

A highly relieved David was beaming at me.  "Hoist by 
your own petard, I see."  

"Watch it, Mister, Shakespeare makes me SO horny."

"In that case, let me recite the first act of 
Midsummer Night's Dream ... tomorrow, when I've 
recovered a bit."

"I have a better idea."  I set aside my empty food 
carton, wiped my mouth lightly with the napkin, and 
approached David, walking around the desk until I 
stood directly over him, our faces just far enough 
apart to focus on.  "Look into my eyes, David.  Lose 
yourself in my eyes.  Relax and let go.  Feel yourself 
becoming tired, so tired, getting more and more sleepy 
as you feel yourself getting drawn into my eyes.  You 
can't resist me, David.  You don't want to resist, you 
want to obey.  You feel yourself relaxing piece by 
piece, breath by breath, your body slowly settling 
deeper and deeper into the chair, your mind aware of 
nothing except my eyes and my voice.  Let go, David.  
Trust me, I will take care of you.  Follow my voice 
down, down, down into the deepest depths of hypnosis, 
where you can experience the ultimate pleasure."

His eyes glazed over as they remained fixated on mine.  
Still repeating deepening suggestions, I slowly 
unbuttoned my pajama top and let it fall to the floor.  
David's eyes never moved from mine.

"That's it, David, keep sinking down into deep 
hypnosis for me.  You know you want to, you know you 
have to.  You will go deep into hypnosis for me any 
time I ask you to because you know how much it pleases 
me, and how much I can please you.  Lose yourself in 
my eyes, David, let them take you deeper and deeper.  
Surrender you body to me."

David's body was totally slack, his head supported by 
the high back of his office chair.  His eyes followed 
me as I moved back and forth, testing his 
concentration.  

"Thank you, David.  Thank you for surrendering 
yourself to me.  Thank you for trusting me to take 
care of you.  I will control your body now, David, 
while you relax and concentrate only on the pleasure 
that you will be feeling.  You didn't notice it at the 
time, but a few minutes ago I took off my pajama top.  
My breasts are right here in front of you, completely 
exposed, ready to assist in bringing us pleasure.  
Look at them now, David.  Examine my breasts closely, 
memorize their contours, their coloring, their 
movement.  Do you like my breasts, David?"

"Yes.  Very much."

"How does looking at my breasts make you feel?"

"It makes me want you."

"Mmmmmm, David, it's so nice to hear you say that.  
Keep looking at my breasts, David, and feel the blood 
rushing into your delicious cock.  Feel the rising 
tide of pleasure as you become harder and harder, just 
from studying my breasts.  Knowing that the sight of 
my breasts can get you so aroused, so ready, is 
turning me on as much as it is you, David.  See?  My 
nipples are getting hard while you watch, while your 
wonderful cock gets harder and harder."  Placing a 
hand on the front of his sweats, I began massaging his 
growing erection through the fleece.  "Harder and 
harder, David, your cock keeps getting longer and 
harder as you look at my breasts.  Do you feel it, 
David?"

"Yes ... yes ... so hot ..."

"Yes, David, you feel hot.  I feel hot too, hot and 
horny, all I can think about is how much I want you 
right now.  Just as the sight of my breasts has made 
you hot and horny, and all you can think about is how 
much you want me.  I can't stand to wait any longer, 
as I know you can't stand to wait either.  Stand up 
now, David, and take your clothes off for me."

His vacant eyes still locked onto my chest, David rose 
from the chair.  His eyes didn't move even as he 
pulled the T-shirt off over his head.  The sneakers 
and socks came off next, then he hooked his thumbs in 
the waistband of his sweats and pushed them and his 
briefs down together.  His cock was at full attention 
and starting to ooze a little at the tip.
 
"Now me, David.  Undress me."  There wasn't much 
undressing to do, of course -- just a matter of letting 
him pull down the drawstring shorts.  My skin tingled 
with delight as I felt the silk sliding smoothly down 
over my bottom.  I backpedaled to the office couch and 
sat back lazily into it, my body draped diagonally 
across about two thirds of the length.  "I want you to 
kiss me, David.  I want you to start at my forehead 
and kiss everywhere I tell you.  Each kiss will make 
you want me more and more, each kiss will get you more 
and more excited, but you will not come until you are 
inside me.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, Jen."  He came forward and planted a soft kiss 
on my forehead.  I directed him to continue with my 
eyes, lips, neck, shoulders, having him linger on each 
breast before heading further down.  His lips were so 
smooth, so nice.  By the time David reached the 
insides of my thighs he was grunting every breath, 
clearly straining, his cock almost purple.

"You can stop kissing now, David.  Would you like to 
please me with your tongue?"

"Yes, Jen.  I want to make you happy."  I gave him 
permission and felt his tongue working up and down my 
slit, probing, caressing.  God, he was good.  For 
several minutes I just wallowed in it, silently 
thanking the unknown women who had trained him so well 
in handling our anatomy.  Before I realized it I was 
convulsing again, surprised by the intensity of the 
climax.  My thoughts scrambled as I rode it out.  
David continued working, keeping me just on the edge 
of another explosion.  His face was covered in my 
fluid.  "Would you like to come now, David?"

"Yes, please.  Please let me come."

"Put your magnificent, giant cock in me right now, 
David."  Rising to his knees, David parted my thighs a 
little further and teased the entrance with his tip, 
causing my body to react with an involuntary sharp 
intake of breath as he eased his way into me.  "Oh, 
David, that feels so good.  Focus on the feel of your 
sensitive shaft moving in and out, in and out, getting 
more excited with each stroke.  When I tell you to 
come, David, you will have the most powerful, longest-
lasting orgasm you have ever had."  He kept stroking, 
slowly and evenly, and I squeezed down on him with my 
pelvic muscles, savoring the feel of every ridge and 
bump on his shaft.  David's groans were getting louder 
and louder, and I realized that I was grunting with 
him.  My eyes closed and wouldn't open again, the 
eyeballs rolled up into my forehead, as yet another 
lightning bolt crashed through me.  Between moans I 
managed to grunt out, "David ... David ... Come ... NOW!"  I 
felt him jerk and shoot again and again, in synch with 
my own rhythm of clench and release.  The feel of him 
bursting loose inside me pushed me even further over 
the edge.  I heard us both shrieking, then grunting, 
before we finally fell silent.  David collapsed on top 
of me, his knees still on the floor.  I ran my fingers 
through his hair as we lay together recuperating, his 
arms limply encircling me as his head came to rest on 
my stomach.  

After a long while David's dead weight on top of me 
started to become uncomfortable.  "Stand up now, 
David," I told him.  He didn't respond right away.  
"David, you have been asleep.  Now it is time for you 
to wake up.  Awake now, David, and stand up."

I felt his eyes fluttering as they opened.  Realizing 
where he was caused him to shudder and stand up a 
little too quickly.  David's eyes swept over my body, 
over the sofa, around the room, back to my body.  I 
could see him assembling the memory of what had 
happened.  "You're amazing," he said.  "You put me 
under just like that.  All I could do was obey you.  
Do you have any idea how that feels?"

It must feel pretty good, I thought, because he was 
getting hard again just remembering.  "Why don't you 
tell me?"

"Umm ... Well ..." He shook his head, as if to clear it.  
"I can't even begin to describe it.  I've never been 
so randy in my life, but I didn't feel any pressure to 
perform.  I just sat back and enjoyed the ride while 
my body did everything you told it to.  The sensations 
were ..."  He just shrugged.  "I can't think of a word."

"I guess that makes us even, then," I remarked.  "What 
next?"

David lifted me up off the couch, throwing his arms 
around me and pulling me to him.  David's mouth found 
mine and locked on in a hungry kiss that seemed to 
last for hours.  Too tired to make love anymore, we 
held each other close, kissing and caressing each 
other, until we finally came up for air.

I got up first, locating my wrap and heading for the 
shower.  I dressed in my street clothes while he took 
his turn.  We shared another long embrace before 
parting company, each of us wanting to go home with 
the other but also needing time alone to absorb what 
had happened to us.


For the rest of the year everything, business and 
personal, went smoothly.  The boudoir sessions were so 
profitable they not only put us in the black but also 
enabled us to hire our first employees -- a photography 
assistant and a receptionist.  We moved into a large 
3-story loft building in a better part of town.  The 
ground floor became the portrait studio, the second 
floor we dedicated to advertising shoots and boudoir 
sets.  We had the upstairs level finished out into a 
spacious but cozy loft apartment, which David and I 
shared.  We took walks through the park hand in hand, 
played on the beach, all those fun, corny, magical 
things that new couples do.  We learned to enjoy each 
other with or without hypnosis, in whatever way 
pleased us the most.  

The time flew by, and before I knew it our anniversary 
had come again.  Continuing our custom, David made a 
lunch reservation at the Toledo Grill (still our 
favorite spot, with the blues club a close second).  
Jerome showed us to our usual table and served us a 
delicious lunch.  All through the meal I noticed the 
staff looking over at our table, as if they were in on 
a secret.  Had I missed something?

Eventually the plates were cleared away and the empty 
glasses set aside to be refilled.  It was time for the 
business meeting.  "It's been a tremendous year, 
hasn't it?" I began.

David smiled broadly.  "It has.  But we can do even 
better, I know we can."  I became aware of a crowd 
gathering beside our table, as the entire Toledo staff 
stopped working to watch us.  Reaching into his jacket 
pocket, David said, "I have another proposal for you, 
Jen."

Tears filled my eyes as I saw the little velvet box in 
his hand.  I started saying yes before he even had it 
open.  Jerome produced a bottle of champagne and a 
cake, then closed the restaurant while we celebrated 
each other.


-WG
5/99