Section 6
Hypnotic Compulsion
Karen found Brandee on the sidelines of the football field. The sexy nurse was watching the second-string players run drills.
"Brandee, where have you been? I've been looking for you all week."
"Oh, hi, Karen. Here mostly. Working on the study. You did tell me to make it a priority."
"I need to speak with you. It's about that gift card you gave me. That masseur was totally inappropriate!"
"Ah, that must be Justin. I was hoping he'd be working. Mr. Big Hands. Isn't he just a doll?"
"He's disgusting is what he is! How could you send me to a place like that?"
"I thought I was doing you a favor. You've been so stressed lately. You deserve a break. Anyway, what happened to upset you?" She smiled knowingly.
"He rubbed his...oh it doesn't matter what he did. Just trust me, it was very unprofessional."
"Well, he's really popular, and he comes highly recommended. I don't see what the big deal is."
"The 'deal' is I'm a married woman, and I can't run around hooking up with men half my age. Who work at a
massage parlor
."
"Well, that's not really his full time job, but..." She seemed about say something but changed her mind. "Anyway, why not? Husbands have been doing it for centuries. Fooling with hotties half their age, I mean."
"Brandee! That's gross!"
"Gross? Gross, you say?" Brandee looked at her sympathetically, then took her hand. "Walk with me. I want to show you something."
Brandee led her across the running track toward the bleachers, saying, "Coach has been kind enough to let us use the physical therapy gym as an exam station."
She handed Karen a cell phone whose screen displayed rows of neatly organized data. "Look. The implant works great. Don't ask me how, but the wireless technology in that little edible pill transmits all the players' vitalsβheart rate, body temp, respiratory rate, even blood sugar, directly to any mobile device."
She looked back at Karen. "This has the potential to revolutionize fitness tracking, not to mention the research applications, which are practically limitless."
When they came to a green metal door built into the side of the stadium bleachers, Brandee said: "If these outcomes keep holding up, Braun is sure to award the university that grant. And our department will get the credit."
She opened the door. "You'll be a hero, Dr. Naylor."
Designed for injured athletes, the physical therapy room contained exercise equipment, aqua therapy baths, medical exam tables, scales, assorted physical therapy equipment, plus lockers and showers. About a dozen players were milling about the room in various stages of undress, a few completely naked.
Stunned, Karen stopped in her tracks, while behind her, Brandee locked the door from the inside. "Coach was kind enough to grant us total privacy," she said, jangling the key ring. But Karen appeared not to hear.
Nobody took much notice of their entrance, as if the presence of two fully-dressed, middle-aged white women was a common thing in the players' routine.
Brandee breezed over to the lockers, where one boy was dressing after showering. Viewing him from behind, they watched his broad tattooed shoulders ripple as he hung up his towel. Brandee looked at Karen and exaggeratingly pointed at him, silently miming the words "SO FUCKING HOT."
Karen followed numbly as the nurse sidled up to the young man and gently caressed his flaring lateral back muscles, trailing her fingers down to his slim waist. "E.J. has got a great 'V'βdoesn't he Karen? That just drives us women crazy. Did you know that, E.J.?"
"Thanks, Nurse Coleman. Yeah, some girls tell me that."