Greg was more than surprised to see Amber Johnson walk into his office one Monday morning. Many people had come to him for therapy over the last ten years that he'd been practicing, but no one that he recognized from his hometown.
Amber sat herself down on one of the plush waiting chairs in the front room, looking about herself nervously as she waited for the doctor to arrive.
Greg walked away from the small window connecting his office to the waiting room, letting the blinds fall back into place. He straightened himself, pulled his tie a little tighter to make himself more dignified, and opened the door.
"Mrs. Clawson?" he asked, reading from his appointment book. Amber stood up shyly and smiled at him. Greg put his hand out to shake hers, limply. The ring on Amber's finger seemed to burn into his palm.
"Please call me Amber," she said shyly.
Even after all these years Greg couldn't believe how striking Amber was. Her dark hair and tanned complexion made him ache in the familiar way he had felt all through high school. She had never noticed him, though, as much as he had wished. In fact, she had turned his offer of a date down, hurting him terribly.
"I'm Greg," Greg said, smiling. The hurt of her rejection was coming back to him, pushing the ache of arousal out of his body and replacing it with anger instead. She didn't even recognize him, he could tell. "Won't you come in?" he invited, holding the door open. Amber walked past him and into his light office. She took a seat on the couch, and Greg sat down on a chair facing her.
"I guess I should tell you what my problem is," Amber started, blushing.
"Please do," Greg smiled charmingly, forcing himself to appear cheerful.
"I don't know where to start, doctor," Amber apologized, her dark eyes looking downwards towards her lap.
Greg found himself fascinated with the shape of her eyelashes, slightly curved, hiding her downcast eyes. "It's so embarrassing."
"Amber," Greg chided, "I hear a lot of different stories every single day, and I haven't been shocked by any of them yet. Please, feel free to tell me what's been bothering you so that I can begin the process of fixing it for you. And call me Greg, none of this silly 'doctor' nonsense."
"Well, sir, Greg," she stammered. "It has been months since I've enjoyed sex with my husband. It's not that we're doing anything different, in fact, maybe that's the problem." she paused, looking up at Greg to see his reaction. Greg's face remained cool, his head nodding slightly, his pencil poised to write any notes about what she would say.
"Do you think that that's the problem? The monotony?"
"Maybe, I don't know. It's just that it doesn't excite me anymore."
Greg nodded again, and wrote something on his note pad. "How does your husband feel about this?"
"He feels awful. He thinks that I don't desire him anymore, and it's not that! It's just, I don't know...I guess I need a change."
"What kind of change would you like, Amber?" Greg asked, crossing his legs. Amber's face flushed again, but she didn't say anything, just sighed.
"It doesn't matter. He has let me know that the things I desire aren't going to happen. I guess I'm just hoping that you could help me, I don't know, make normal things more exciting again. Is there something you could do to make it better?"
Greg almost laughed out loud at the irony. The girl he had fantasized about for years was here, asking his advice on sex. There had been countless times where Greg had lay in bed, eyes closed, picturing this petite creature kneeling in front of him and sucking him off. She had screwed around with every guy in school but him. He could still hear the whispered rumors his friends had loved to tell him. How they had laughed when she had turned him down. Perhaps there was a way to pay her back.
"I can think of one thing we might try, Amber," he said softly. Greg put down the paper and his pencil and walked over to his desk. In the upper right hand drawer he kept a pocket watch, and he pulled it out now, holding it in front of his face and letting his eyes follow it as it spun.
"Hypnosis?" Amber guessed, her voice quivering slightly.
"Yes," Greg said. "I haven't done it often, I have to admit, but I think it might help you now."
Greg took his eyes away from the object and looked back at his patient. The young woman was trembling slightly.
"You think it would work?" she asked.
"I do," Greg lied. He had never actually practiced hypnosis on anyone in the office; it was something he liked to do as more of a parlor trick in front of his friends. With his friends it had worked, but his suggestions had been more playful than what he was thinking of suggesting to Amber Johnson, now Amber Clawson.
"Well," Amber said, almost in a whisper. "If you think it will help my relationship, then why don't we try?"
Greg's stomach tightened at the reminder of her relationship. It should have been him, married to the beautiful former prom queen. Instead, she was married to a man who couldn't even excite her in bed. Quite ironic, indeed.
"I need to you relax completely," Greg said, walking over to the couch. He pulled his chair with him, sitting three feet away from the gorgeous woman. "Lay down on the couch, and cross your arms over your chest. I want you to watch this object with your eyes." He began to swing the pocket watch slowly over her face in slow, steady movements. He lowered and softened his voice, cooing to the woman on the couch. "Keep your eyes on the watch. Don't let it escape your vision. Keep your eyes on it as it swings back and forth."
Amber's eyes followed the watch, and Greg could see her eyelids growing heavy. The muscles in her face appeared to relax in front of his eyes. Greg took a deep breath and continued.
"Let your body grow completely limp. First your toes, then your legs, moving all the way up to your fingertips. I want your entire body to be relaxed, open. Concentrate on the sound of my voice." Greg took another deep breath. He could see Amber relaxing on the couch in front of him. Her arms uncrossed and lay next to her sides, he could see her shoulders lay back. Even her feet were relaxing. Greg smiled and went on. "You are getting very tired," he said, smiling at the cliché. "I am going to count to three, and when I reach three your mind will be completely open to me. You will be awake, but asleep, and will not be able to do anything except listen to the sound of my voice."
He took a deep breath.
"One," he said, his voice calm, relaxing. "Your eyelids feel heavy. Close them, let yourself slip into a dreamy state."
Amber's eyelids fluttered softly and shut, her green eyes hiding from Greg's view.
"Two," he continued, watching Amber's body slip further and further from reality. "Relax your fingertips, your toes, every muscle in your body."
Her arms seemed to relax, her fingers releasing their fists and dropping to her sides.
"Three," he finished, smiling as Amber's large chest moved up and down evenly with each of her heavy breaths. "You are now completely asleep, dreaming. You are totally relaxed."
