It was a slow day at the office, a Friday afternoon an hour before quitting time, and Carla was fooling around on the Internet. She should have been working, putting the finishing touches on a report her boss had just dropped off on her desk. He gave her the report and then did a cut and run, the bastard.
Carla suspected her boss was going to meet his girlfriend for a quickie, or maybe get in nine holes of golf before going home to his wife and a dreary supper. The weather had turned warm in Ohio, and it was an effort just to return from lunch. 'They owe me some time,' Carla thought to herself, as she started cruising the Yahoo personals.
And there he was, as big as life. He listed his hobbies as parapsychology, transgressive sexual behavior, hypnosis, and Tarot. 'Sex and hypnosis,' Carla said to herself, followed by 'I'm getting aroused just thinking of the possibilities.'
He used the name "D_Diderot," and he was on-line, so Carla sent him an IM. That was how it all began, and it turned out to be the adventure of a lifetime.
They chatted for a while about hypnosis, his experiences, mostly, the professional hypnotist he studied with while still in high school, and the hypnotic research he took part in as a paid research subject while a college student.
Later she found out that his name was Frank Morgan, but he sometimes published under the name Diderot, after the French 18th Century author and philosopher. Morgan suggested she read one of his published Diderot stories, "Nuts and Sluts," about a kinky young high school student who gets conned into hypnotic research. The girl in the story was quite willing to be manipulated by a college professor; the silly little slut didn't really need hypnosis to shed her inhibitions.
Carla was very different from the woman in the story. When it came to sex, overt sex, she was very inhibited. Carla's turn-on was very different. As she said on her web page, "I love the idea of giving up control thru trance." Morgan concluded if they finally met in real life, she would be a very good hypnotic subject, willing to obey his every command, wanting to satisfy his every wish.
Then Morgan got lucky; the teaching appointment came though. He sent her an IM to tell Carla the good news. He was coming to Ohio in the fall, as a guest lecturer, to give a course in parapsychology and the occult at her local college. In addition, he would be doing research and giving several public demonstrations on hypnosis. For the research, he would need several test subjects.
The week he arrived on campus, Morgan gave a talk and demonstration of mass hypnosis. Naturally, Carla attended. Her husband wasn't interested, so she attended with a woman friend.
There were 60 or 70 people in the lecture hall, and at one point Morgan had all of them stand up.
"Close your eyes and relax," he told the audience. "When you're very relaxed and comfortable, imagine you're holding a string in your right hand, attached to a helium filled balloon, and in your left had is a heavy lead weight. As your right hand rises, your left hand will begin to fall ... as your right hand rises, your left hand will begin to fall ... as your right hand rises, your left hand will begin to fall ....
Carla was beginning to feel very mellow, very relaxed. Without conscious effort on her part, her right hand was beginning to rise, and her left hand to fall. She was beginning to enter a light trance state.
Morgan surveyed the audience, choosing the five best subjects. He went around the room to the others, having them sit down.
"Now, as I count to five, you will gradually open your eyes," he told the five who were still standing.
"One, you are starting to open your eyes ... two, a little bit more ... three, don't move your hands ... four, they're almost open ... five, open your eyes."
The five looked around the room in amazement. Everyone else was seated, and they were all standing, the right arm raised, the left arm lower, almost at their side. First one, and then the remaining four started to laugh.
Morgan brought the five, three women and two men, to the front of the room, seated them in the row of chairs facing the audience. Based on her description in an IM, he suspected Carla was one of the five. The woman was tall, slim, a natural blonde if he was any judge of hair color, with a tight ass and a spectacular rack.
The rest of the demonstration was his standard stage routine. First, "instantaneous induction" using a technique he learned from his teacher, Harry Aarons, years ago. This was followed by demonstrations of catalepsy, negative and positive hallucination, and post hypnotic suggestion and re-induction to the trance state.
For the finale, Morgan induced temporary anesthesia, and pushed a slim needle through the subject's arm. No pain, no blood. The audience was impressed,. By the end of the show, he had learned the names of his five subjects. One was named Carla. Was it a coincidence, or was she the one who sent the IM? He hoped to find out after the lecture.
Morgan had answered questions from the audience, and several members from the Psychology Department came up to congratulate him on an informative lecture and demonstration. The tall, slim blonde who had been one of his subjects finally approached him.
"Professor Morgan, do you have a moment?"
"Of course ...Carla. That's your name, Carla Summers, if I remember correctly." "carlas" had sent him the IMs.
The woman was quite shy, almost hesitant to approach him as the lecture hall emptied out. Another woman stood beside her.
"I'll only be a minute, Grace," she said to the prune-faced woman who stood at her side.
"You want to make an appointment to see me?"
"Yes."
"To talk about my research in 'behavior modification'?
"If that's what it's called," Carla replied.
"Your friend is waiting, so please phone me tomorrow at my office," as he pressed the business card into her hand. "Call me promptly at 10:00 a.m. I'll be expecting your call."
Carla seemed relieved that the hypnotist didn't ask for any more details. He seemed very sure of himself, telling her to call him "promptly at 10:00 a.m." Was he testing her, the same way he tested the young girl in his story?
It would have too embarrassing to have any further conversation with Grace Watkins, the town gossip, looking over her shoulder. She guessed he knew already who she was, and why she wanted to be hypnotized.
Morgan turned and proceeded to put his lecture notes into his brief case. He was smiling to himself. Within a week, he would turn Carla Summers into the secret slut he knew she always wanted to be.
The next morning, Carla was nervous when she made the phone call. She was phoning from work, and she misdialed Morgan's number twice. The first time she was connected to the Psych Department secretary, the second time to Morton's Funeral Home. It took all her concentration to get it correct on her third attempt.
"Morgan," was all he said when he answered the phone on the fifth ring.
"This is ... this is ... this is Carla Summers," the pretty young woman stammered.
"You're three minutes late."
"I'm sorry." Carla knew was already on the defensive, apologizing for no apparent reason.
"And the reason for your call?" His voice just seemed to hang in the air.
"I wanted to talk to you about 'behavior modification,' to see if you could help me with a personal problem."
"Can you come by my office on your way home from work, say about 6:00 p.m.?"
"Yes, I think I can."
"Can you or can't you be here at 6:00?"
"Yes, I can come to your office at that time."
"And this time, I expect you to be on time."
"Yes, Sir." Carla didn't know why she said that. Maybe it was because of her need to obey.
Six o'clock was an awkward time to meet. Her office closed at 5:00 p.m. Her husband was out of town on business, so Carla didn't have to phone home to tell him she would be late. But wasn't enough time to drive home and change her clothing, or at least to put on fresh underwear.
Carla couldn't make up her mind if she should put on the pantyhose she kept in her desk for emergencies, but in the end, decided to go barelegged. So she sat around the office, fretting and fiddling at her desk for half and hour, and then drove the short distance to the college campus.
It was easy to find Morgan's office. She had been a psychology major 10 years before, so she knew the campus well. She arrived five minutes early, waited nervously in the hall, and at one minute to six knocked on the door.
"Enter," Morgan called out.
Carla pushed open the door and entered the tiny office. It did have a window, open to the cool breeze of the evening, which was a relief. Carla was starting to perspire.
"Sit," he said, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. "Now tell me, Ms. Summers, exactly why you're here."
"It's kind of hard to explain."
"I have all the time in the world." His voice was soft but firm, reassuring, comforting.
"You see, I'm extremely uncomfortable with sex. And I find it very hard to even talk about it."
"That's not uncommon, even for married women, especially for married women to talk about sex with a complete stranger."
"Perhaps ... perhaps if you hypnotized me, put me in a trance, I'd feel more comfortable talking about my problem."
