Sabrina sat in her office, slowly breathing, taking in what happened before Jon bolted out of the office a half-hour ago. "Calm shock" was the self-diagnosis to her reaction to Jon; she wasn't necessarily happy, while contending with whether she should feel unhappy. The mix of emotions going on in her were unusual. Never in her years of trancing had the tables turned on her like they did with Jon. She believed she'd lost control as soon as she was in his embrace, and yet it was brought on subconsciously rather than intentionally, and it was encouraged by a portion of her suggestions. She'd planned to simply shape his desires to be about pleasing her, from afar, like most others were shaped before. Then it went from taming and training to being attacked by a wild, feral animal. But Jon's animal ferocity was nothing but tender and affectionate. He'd become like a big jungle cat, looming over his trainer Sabrina, licking and nuzzling, showing her he was pleased having her there.

She absently lifted her fingers to her lips again, but set them down on her desk. Part of her hated how vulnerable she felt during that kiss, but part of her adored the kissing itself, which brought her back to hate. She never gauged men before on how well they kissed, except to think that players, playboys, and ladies-men might rate higher than most given their sometimes misguided self-confidence. She could tell Jon was none of those types, and had given her a phenomenal kiss like the ones described in cheap romance novels. But there was an ocean's difference between reading it and being embraced by it. She didn't know how she didn't slap him as soon as their lips came together; it was most women's, or at least her automatic response for men who'd gotten that close without permission, despite getting in his personal space first. She felt like slapping herself for letting herself enjoy it, because that led to her enthusiastic participation and how a warm kiss turned into an overheated one.

"Don't blame yourself, it's not like...he let you get away; you did try," she whispered to herself, leaning back in her chair, taking deliberate, slow breaths.

She closed her eyes, remembering the command she gave him and the kiss that stilled him, grinning a little at the ingenuity.

"Aren't you glad you didn't slap him?" a voice inside her head asked, bringing up an annoying fact.

"Be quiet," she told herself.

"Doesn't matter though. You want him, and you can have him, right?" the voice countered.

It was tempting to raise her hand to bring it swiftly across her own face to silence her conscience. Slapping would've affirmed that she did want him though, on some level. Jon was handsome to her, and smart, sensible, and despite their uneven and rocky interaction, there was some unspoken respect between them. And now she knew that he was a good kisser, could be very passionate with women, and was vulnerable to her skills now. His was a resume filled with strangely useful qualifications. It had been a while since there was one man she'd met that possessed all or that number of good attributes. After spending her early post-college 20's of gorging herself on mostly male hypnotic slaves, she cooled down in the following years, going for more conservative dating. And as much as she could shape a man to her liking pretty easily, she did have to like the core of the man enough to want to try. The ones that came close turned out to be disappointments, and meeting people could be hard when somewhat exotic features like bright red hair and stunning blue eyes meant wading through lots of interested men (some that even made Mark look desirable). She'd found herself shelving most relations for just liking to play with daily puppets.

Sabrina compromised with herself to admitting that Jon was potentially datable and left it at that. More importantly though, her incident with Jon remained unresolved. He'd left in a rush, mind probably still reeling wherever he was. She'd gotten her foot in the door into his mind, but her standing wasn't firm. If his mind put together what really that could make trouble for her. If he went straight to Bevy, she could manage him, but she didn't want to sit and do nothing to let another scenario she couldn't predict happen. She'd already gotten a taste of that.

Sabrina's lips curled from contemplating into wickedness, imagining some intriguing fictional plot where an interrupted seductress had to re-engage her escaped prey and finish him off, and finding Jon that night was her best opportunity. The thought of playing the hypnotic villainess kept her spirits up as she thought about how to go about it. She remembered Jon's office was left unattended, so she left her office to start there.

* * *

Jon woke feeling better than he thought he should have, remembering the morning and everything before the end of his lucid dream, putting off the grief to come. It took his ears a few moments, but he finally picked up a knocking sound from his door. He got up quickly to look through the peephole. He saw red hair, blue eyes, and a strange smile on her face. He clumsily made a noise on his side of the door, and saw Sabrina respond to the sound.

"I can hear you on the other side. May I come in?"

Jon let his head fall to the door with a small thud, and unlocked it.

Sabrina looked at him as she brushed past him and stood near the center of his apartment.

Jon closed the door and looked at her, not knowing what to expect, just expecting it to be bad. Then an random thought made him ask, "How did you know where I lived?"

Sabrina fished out of her pursed and produced his wallet, making Jon check his pants to notice an indent missing from his pocket.

"You shouldn't leave things like this behind. It's not a good idea to leave your office in such disarray, either."

"Look Sabrina, let me just start of with saying sorry f-"

She held a hand up to stop what she guessed would be a long triad of verbal apology in its tracks.

"Jonathan, before you over-extend yourself with amends, let me tell you what you can thank me for. You can thank me for cleaning up your office, shutting down your computer for you, and telling Bevy you had an emergency to handle and that you might not make it back to your office for the rest of the day."

Most of what he planned to apologize for went away in hearing what Sabrina did for him. Coming on to her like he did and his punishment was being cleaned up after by said woman?

"You didn't tell Bevy about...?"

"That would be assuming that I couldn't handle you all by myself."

"Ha-handle me?" Jon questioned. Things seemed really off to him now, with Sabrina's actions, her reactions, and even the way she sat down on his couch with a bit of nonchalance and confidence. As she crossed her legs, he thought about what she might be angling for, sensing blackmail in the near future. He also noticed how nice her legs looked.

"Ok, before we go any further, can I hear from you what happened?"

"Why don't you tell me first?" She spoke.

"I was....listening to your CD."

"Oh, that's what was playing," Sabrina feigned. "Did it help you relax?"

"It did."

"I'm glad it worked for you," she gently praised him like her old hypnotherapy patients. "Stressful day?"

"...what?"

"Did something happen for you to want to listen to the CD?"

Jon stayed still and silent, contemplating a lie to give her. His silence rang louder than expected in his apartment, and Sabrina spoke before he could.

"It's ok Jonathan. Hopefully it wasn't something really bad, but when I came in, you looked pretty relaxed."

"What was I doing when you came in?"

"Just relaxing from the looks of it, laying back in your chair."

Jon looked at Sabrina, still in her work attire, imagining what she could've been doing in his office while he was laid out like that. Before today he would've been worried about Sabrina being there when he wasn't, or when he was vulnerable and unaware. The kiss they shared took his imagination in other directions now. Her red nails made him think of her running them over his body. Glancing at her stockings and heels made him imagine a time when it was ok to stare or even feel them. The second he glanced at her lips, he had to close his eyes. He was already having trouble keeping his libido in check; giving in anymore to the temptation of looking at her would've made his attraction to her obvious, and that's the last thing he needed at that point.

"What happened before....you know? Why did you come to my office?"

Sabrina kept her expression in check as she imagined what she'd planned to do before she was...interrupted. Having him open to her like that was an unexpected treat. She thought the CD she gave him might slowly make him easier to influence, over time. Nearly one day later with him was way ahead of schedule, and for all intended-purposes her plan worked. But she couldn't deny that wherever trance took him, it took them both on a ride. And far be it from Sabrina to stop a ride she was at the helm of.

"I'd come to talk to you about yesterday, and tried...waking you," she lied.

"And that's when I kissed you?"

A red fingernail touched her reapplied lipstick from earlier, "That's what I remember. Do all your girlfriends get kissed like that?"

"No..." was his automatic response. He never remembered a kiss that heated in his life. Not with Jesse or even in his wildest dreams could compare. It was the one thing he could swear was real from his lucid dreaming. That bothered Jon the more it stuck in his mind, the impression she left. Random thoughts of theories in how she might be messing with people around the office, the watchful eye he'd kept with people who've interacted with her, he'd made a connection between his theories and his experience.

"I've never remembered being affected like that before," his voice was laced with an accusing tone. He watched Sabrina look up as she heard his tone, and smiled like she took his words as complementary.

"I have to wonder if it's just from me." Jon looking point-blank at her, she knew the niceties were over, but remained confident and somewhat nonchalant.

"You'd be surprised how much of that was you. But I won't lie and say I didn't enjoy it."

"So how much of why I enjoyed it was because of you?"

"I don't know whether I should be flattered by that question, or stunned that you think I should be the one that has to explain themselves."

"I guess it says enough when you won't answer the question."

Sabrina raised her eyebrow as he reached for his wallet to check its contents.

"You honestly think I stole something from you?"

"Who knows? But for the sake of getting back to honesty, I'm more worried about what you've done here." Pointing his index finger at his temple and sounding distressed as he said 'here' nearly made her giggle.

"Jonathan, please, calm down."

"Or what, you're going to make me?"

"I can, if you'd like. But maybe I should worry about being so close to you, especially after earlier."

Despite her "worry," she took a step closer to Jon, and reflexively his leg almost took a step back. Sabrina considered the best way to make him vulnerable again, to open him up further than last time. As much as she would have objectively wanted to guide him with the recording again or some other low-risk means, she knew the kiss was her best weapon. It was a double-edged weapon, but as long as it cut deep enough into Jon and she composed herself enough, she would get what she wanted.

"I'll freely admit what an amazing kiss that was; you weren't the only one deeply affected by it. But the way you gave it spoke volumes about how much you wanted it, or dare I say, needed it. Our lips collided and you couldn't let go; you certainly didn't let me get away. I never knew my red lips could be so...potent and intoxicating upon contact." Sabrina inched closer and closer to Jon, gaining ground Jon was dimly aware he was giving up. Sabrina started speaking as methodically as possible, letting her lips emphatically pronounce each word, tempting his eyes.

"That kiss, our kiss Jonathan, my lips remember the heat from yours. My lips won't forget that heat, that passion you brought to mine. No man before you has ever lit up my lips like that, making them feel full and alive. And by your own words, no woman has affected your lips like mine can. I could actually feel how soft my lips were against yours, almost satiny. Our kiss was slow at first, like you were trying to appraise the softness."

Jon fought for as long as he could to not look at those lips, looking in every direction except hers. Her words pre-empted and slowly blurred everything around him, leaving him with thoughts of her, how her accent bled into her speech and how sexy it sounded to him. All he wanted to see was her. She was beautiful; his anger subsided against his trying to maintain it, he'd forgotten about the erection he was trying to suppress.

"Your lips measuring mine was long seconds worth of contact. And once you had your answer, once you knew how unbelievably soft they were, you deepened the kiss. Long seconds became lasting minutes of ecstasy. There was no need to even think about breathing, there was no point to thinking. You had what you wanted right in front of you. You refused to let go. And the best part, your lips pleased mine, surprised them and left an imprint on them like I've never felt, like you've never felt. Unforgettable, undeniable, irresistible."

Jon knew he was fading rapidly. His thoughts seeped into the happiness of his lips pleasing hers. He felt his own lips like they were of more importance to him than ever before. He'd given up trying to look away and just stared and her red lips move sensually and freely, outlining what thoughts he tried fighting against. He heard more the sound of her voice, like Celtic chanting, as the words went somewhere inside him.

"Yes Jonathan, that's how good it was. And now realize where you are right now. Have you gotten that sense of deja vu, too? So soon from the last time we'd gotten so close. Your lips against mine, and everything else in the background. Would it interest you to know that my lips have missed yours, and don't feel sated yet? They love how close we are, and are relishing the anticipation. Nothing's worth fighting this, nothing will save you. My lips are not your enemy, but your escape. Tasting paradise while the tumultuous world vanished from existence. A mutual vacation for us both. I don't want stress, I want peace, pleasure, and satisfaction. I want your lips to come close to mine."

Jon held on to the last vestige of control he tried keeping. He was being thoroughly convinced that he wanted it as bad as she did. And for what shrinking will he had left to fight, he tried focusing on it with extreme intensity. Jon didn't give up easily to anything if at all, and desperately looked for a way to beat Sabrina. Unfortunately, he could think of only one way to curtail her onslaught, and as much as he hated his options, he acted while he still could.

"Don't your lips want m-"

Sabrina felt herself silenced again, exactly how she'd been before, but encouraging it like she had been for the past few minutes, led her to fully embrace him. The way he leapt to her lips, she envisioned him trying to shut her up, stopping her before she could complete her lingual spell, she smiled against him, knowing what he didn't. Sabrina was right about their kiss being a signature, a distinguished heat. They both felt it, and released their intentions toward each other to give into the kiss. He grasped her hips as she held his face in her hands. The fire she poured gas on got the best of her, and she leaned her body into his, almost wrapping her arms around his neck. She found herself up against a wall and lifted up, both of them threatening to devour each others lips. Their mouths grinded and rotated in circles, both of them thought the other was leading.

Both eventually became deprived of air, and Sabrina was the first to pull away. Both heaved passionately, and looked at each other. Sabrina smiled helplessly as it looked like Jon's body shivered. A tingle traveled up his spine, his head became foggy and clouded. He tried shaking the feeling, but his head was in Sabrina's hands again, and she gently kissed him.

"You're so tired, and so happy to feel my lips again."

She kissed him full on his mouth.

"Mmmm, so good. So soft and lovely."

Deeply kissing him, and moving down with him as he fell to his knees.

"My kiss is so enthralling, it guides you into mindless bliss."

Jon felt his body deflate, head held up only by Sabrina hands, glassy eyes staring at nothing.

"You can fall into a wonderful dream so easily, imagining me in your dreams, and our endlessly passionate kisses that take you deeper."

She lowered him carefully to the floor, attached to him all the way down. Laying his head on the carpet, she kissed him one last time and whispered "obey" against his docile lips. She lifted herself up, quite pleased at the puddle of submission she'd created, thankful to enjoy the physical pleasure and reclaiming the dominant position. She regarded the man before her. Even helpless as he was, he looked strong, a hint of remaining turmoil on his mostly peaceful face. She had him exactly where she wanted him, but still had to think about what this was between them, and where she would take it. Sabrina wasn't lying to Jon as she also felt a sexual charge running through her, and she didn't want to tempt her judgment effecting the conditioning. Accepting the fact that he was different, and probably required more influencing and had a surprising affect on her, she couldn't treat him like all the others. Mark, Bevy, and the rest of the staff didn't deserve the same consideration she gave Jon. More than anything right now, she decided she needed time to sort some things out.

She ordered Jon to get himself to bed, helping him crawl to and into it. She told him to dream as she had instructed to earlier, but coaxed him to dream all through the night and to wake up like he regularly did. She took a long look at Jon before leaving his apartment, contemplating the future ahead.

* * *

Jon woke to an early Saturday morning, a sounding alarm clock, and a morning erection like he'd never felt before. The night before was recalled clearly enough, and he tried to put it out of his head that the shape of his dream woman was more specifically defined. Short red hair, cultured feminine and accented voice, beautiful figure, and lips that brought him to his knees, literally. His dreams were mostly replaying the events of the night before, but in them he let her speak as long as he wanted while yearning for her kiss. And she initiated the kiss as he fell into her embrace.

He got out of bed, moving around his apartment, knowing she didn't take anything but checking regardless. He wasn't completely surprised she'd left something behind though. A note on his living room table that read "See you around." He imagined her words as if she read them, staring and the red lipstick imprint she'd left on the paper. Reading it out loud made him frown. "Better than 'thanks' though," his conscious told him.

He made himself toast and eggs, and ate in silence, trying to figure out what to do. There was reasonable conflict in all of this, a reason to be concerned about having her in his head, but his stubborn thoughts pushed against the brief memory of being close to her. Not knowing what she wanted scared him more than if she told him flat-out. What was consensual was even in question, as he actually believed her that she liked and wanted it as much as he did, and that for a brief moment, she may have been vulnerable along with him, before he realized the kiss was a trap. It was no wonder why she urged the kiss, but it should have been a wonder why he didn't just push her away. Thinking of Jesse at random, he was amazed by how reduced the impact of his feelings for her were; that blow was nothing compared to the new that knocked him out. Even the hottest kiss Jesse could muster felt like sleeping next to a camp fire, while any kiss with Sabrina so far was closer to stepping in the middle of one. "It has to be the danger," he concluded, not willing to give that any more thought.

Finishing his breakfast, all he could do was sit and stare at her note, wondering when she would try to see him again.

* * *

Jon spent his Saturday afternoon thinking solely about the strangest Friday he'd ever had. He tried to put it out of his mind how it was the sexiest Friday, hell, the sexiest day of his life. Granted, he wasn't used to women like Sabrina. The number of girlfriends in his life just barely made it past the number of fingers on one hand, and all of them could fit the description of 'conventional'. Women whom were nice enough, modest, attractive, easily the kind of woman he could bring to meet any mother. Jesse, despite being the best of them at the beginning, ended up being rather flaky, and uninterested.

Thinking of Sabrina by comparison made every woman before her seem like acquaintances. It was strange; he was afraid of her, she manipulated him probably like many of their co-workers, set terms he had to follow no matter how much he fought, but that fear was a turn-on, just like the rest of her. Bright, almost fiery red hair, a hidden Irish accent that he heard slip out once or twice, very confident, sassy, skillfully manipulative, and very passionate when she wanted to be. There were even similarities they shared, as being individuals who had no problem standing alone, and didn't back down or scare easily.

A few months into her beginning to work at the office, she agreed to joining them for drinks, something Jon only did occasionally as to keep up a decent rapport with co-workers. They happened to leave a few minutes apart, just enough time to see Sabrina being pressed against a building by a mugger on an empty street, demanding her purse. Fortunately the mugger never noticed Jon, thanks in part to Sabrina elbowing him in his chest. After separating the mugger from her, Jon swept him from under his legs and knocked him out cold with a solid punch. He asked if she was ok, and to his surprise, her expression looked like his - angered and in-control it, a far cry from shocked, fearful look he expected. After, they silently walked together toward her car, not a word spoken between them except for her whispered "thank you" as she drove off. He wanted to bring up how questionable her actions were. She didn't notice Jon before she elbowed the guy, so her options were to somehow take down someone bigger than her (maybe she had mace in her purse?), or run away in heels. He never bothered to though. She wasn't stupid, she had to know what her actions could lead to. He imagined it was pride more than anything, especially the way her look declared "I can handle myself."

It was funny to imagine someone like Sabrina, dressed in her usual blouse, skirt, stockings and heels, fighting dangerous men trying to assault her. Then he remembered what she did to him and it was more feasible than funny, how she might be indomitable one way or another. The night of the assault began playing out differently in his mind - her hypnotizing with typical tools of her trade, like a pocket watch or being told to look into her eyes. Leaning against the cushions of his couch, with eyes closed he saw that same mugger from almost a year ago, looking docile and lost, on his knees in front of Sabrina who swung a pocket watch at his eye level, speaking in low sensual, hypnotic tones, her 'rescuer' watching from a distance as she snapped her fingers and he fell to the ground unconscious, knocked out this time by softer means. After she was done with him, she turned to see Jon further away, having watched her overpower him. She stepped over the assailant gracefully and cruxed her fingers. His legs moved at her insistence as they came closer to each other. Jon shook himself from the thought, and realized he'd been stroking his arousal with his hand on the front of his pants. He quickly splashed cold water on his face in the bathroom, let his excitement deflate, and decided to leave his apartment.

Driving around the city to get his mind off things was his plan, not caring where he ended up. Fortunately Saturday was a nice, sunny day. There were lakes, parks, and museums as options, in or outside of the city depending on how much he felt like getting away from things. However, it didn't sit well with him that things still felt unresolved. He'd probably, hopefully have time off Saturday and Sunday to get his mind off things, or sort his feelings out. But come Monday, coming face-to-face with Sabrina again, all bets would be off. With problems like this, Jon didn't prefer letting them eventually come to him if he could help it. Instead of a scenic location, Jon drove to the office, looked into personnel files, and got what he needed.

* * *

Sabrina picked up her cellphone, and saw someone from work was calling her. Other than the time she made Bevy to call her from the office on a Saturday as a post-hypnotic suggestion, she never received calls from work on the weekend. She had a guess of who it could be, but answered generically.

"Hello?"

"..."

"Hello? Does someone from the office need something?"

Jon contemplated hanging up, but knew there was no point backing down now. "...what do you want from me Sabrina?"

"Oh, hello Jonathan," she said cheerfully. "What I want from you...is a good question."

"You're telling me you don't know?"

"It's true, I don't really have any set plans for you."

"But you've given it some thought already."

"It wouldn't be anything hazardous if that's what you're worried about."

"That doesn't make me worry any less."

Sabrina sighed, "look...meet me at Lenords in an hour."

"The diner on 12th?"

"Yes."

"Why should I meet you?"

"Because my battery is about to go out, and I assume you want to continue this conversation. And at least you'd have a fighting chance in a public place," Sabrina added with sass.

"Fine."

He hung up and left the office hoping he didn't make a mistake.

* * *

He arrived 10 minutes before their meeting time at Lenords. He ordered a soft drink and french fries and sat, waiting, trying to think exactly how he should approach their talk. He'd been doing it ever since the phone call, but now his mind ran in nervous overdrive to make sure she couldn't get the upper-hand easily like last time.

Any valid plan he thought he had came crashing down the moment Sabrina sat across from him in the booth. The french fries arrived seconds later, and she asked the waitress to bring her a soft drink as well. An earnest smile greeted him from across the table.

"May I?" she asked as her hand began reaching for a fry.

"Go ahead."

She took one and squirted a thin line of ketchup along it, enjoying it.

"So, where did we leave off from?"

"We never got past 'what do you want from me'."

"Which I believe I replied with 'I don't quite know yet'. But the look on your face says 'that's not good enough.'"

"Admirable deductive skills." He reached for a fry and added ketchup to it.

"How about 'what do you want, Jonathan?' I assume you'd like something else from our exchange."

Jon leaned back into his seat and thought about the most diplomatic, straight-forward request he could make.

"Quid pro quo."

"Ok, that makes things interesting. But will we both answer our questions candidly?"

"Hopefully we can."

"I hope for your sake too."

"Well, ladies first."

"Your chivalry is appreciated. Ok, my first question - was that the best kiss you've ever had?"

Jon folded his arms and looked around the restaurant as if searching for an answer, both things Sabrina expected him to do. Had he huffed instead of sighed, it would've completed the image of him in her head.

"Yes, it was the best I could remember."

"And you remember all your kisses?"

"It's my turn to ask."

Sabrina smiled. "You're right. My mistake."

"What have you been doing to people at the office? Honestly."

"Jonathan, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I haven't been doing anything nearly as nefarious as you might think I have. Most of it would amount to silly parlor tricks, things you might see at a hypnosis stage show, PG-rated."

"Such as?"

"That's two questions Jonathan."

"Fine, you get to ask two yourself then."

"Fair enough. The most common thing I've been doing is my job, which is helping people with the stress of their jobs, as my job description states. With that, I get to test the depths of hypnosis they can reach, in order for me to help them. However, when my suggestions aren't... work-related, some of my 'evil deeds' include suggesting to the receptionists that gossiping is something they'd be happier not engaging or encouraging, telling a few of the bickering employees that if they were to continue starting trouble, they would simulate something like farm animals if and when their arguments were unproductive and needless. The most interesting case would be your friend Marcus. He-"

"What did you do to Mark?" he nearly choked on a few fries.

"I'll let that one slide. If Marcus is your friend, then you know about his flirtatious tendencies. I had something silly for him in mind, like forgetting his name for a minute, but when he tried turning his 'charms' on me, it was surprisingly more insulting than whimsical to watch him try, so I helped him see things a little differently."

Jon's face asked what his mouth didn't, not wanting to give her three questions.

"I helped his...'inner man's-best-friend' shall we say, come to the surface. I think he's much happier literally imitating one, also with the discovery of how good he feels when he treats women better; a woman's-best-friend, if you will. Appreciating them and earning their praise should be a much more fulfilling pursuit instead of just trying to get into their pants."

Jon closed his eyes and absentmindedly shook his head. He'd always told Mark that he'd get himself in trouble like that one day, but envisioned the herculean effort it'd take to keep him out of trouble for good. Under better circumstances, he could easily convey his being impressed. Sabrina sensed this and was glad Jon wasn't going to argue about it, especially since she'd be reinforcing it over time with his friend. It did help with the illusion of how persuasive she could really be; she almost was, but she enjoyed Jon thinking she really was.

"Now it's my turn again. Knowing what you know now, do you feel the need to taddle on me?"

Jon looked at her evenly as she sipped her drink. "As much as I think you've been skirting some professional boundaries, I would say no. But the chances of you having an 'understanding' with Bevy by now are already high, aren't they?"

"Is that rhetorical?"

He searched a face that gave nothing away concerning Bevy. "Yeah, it is. Your next question?"

"Have you ever been hypnotized before this?"

"No. People have tried in psychology studies, and a stage show once; nothing took. I've been told I might not be that good of a hypnotic subject. 'High resistance, or highly stubborn,' someone once guessed."

"And my CD worked where other efforts failed."

"Was that a question?"

"No, just noting that with you, it's probably a matter of motivation. Something positive to offer you if you did go under. That and you may have been underestimated as a subject. People with good imaginations more times than not make great subjects."

"What were your original intentions with me?"

"With you, I didn't have any set plans. The more I looked at you, the more I thought about how you need to relax and not be so, or look so...."

"What?"

"Maybe....'rigid' is the word."

"Hence the relaxation CD."

"After the CD worked, I thought about turning you over to the dark side, becoming my evil, loyal minion." She waved her red, polished fingernails at him theatrically, happy to see his eyes follow the movement for those few seconds. "That kiss... changed things though."

"How?"

"Actually it's my turn Jonathan. When you went into hypnosis for me, how did it feel for you? I'd like you to be specific and honest about it."

"It..." Jon began, but felt afraid to reminisce about that feeling, partially afraid it would come over him and visibly show in front of the person who'd caused it. "It was like sleeping but different. The way your CD worked was impressive as it masqueraded as something else entirely in the beginning. Somewhere in listening to it and to you, I felt like I lost my sense of...sense. It was out of body. And pleasant."

He looked up to see one naturally-red eyebrow raised up, and her index finger rhythmically tapping her lips.

"Yes, the kiss changed things. It was a deeper level. More...pleasant than before."

"I wonder if 'pleasant' is adequate-enough a word, but anyway, where'd you learn to fight?"

"You mean physically or mentally?"

"I mean the one where you actually put up a fight."

His eyes narrowed to slits and he sighed. "I liked fighting games, video games, as a kid. Street Fighter and games like that, and it inspired me to learn martial arts for real. I've studied them since middle school, and I'm decent with it. Good for fitness and self-control."

"Or just fitness."

"Don't expect my skills to be utilized like an 'evil minion' for you."

"They'll come in handy, I'm sure. But your skills aren't what make you attractive to me, not completely anyway. And I prefer my form of fighting, where you happen to be not as big a challenge as you think you are."

"Where did you learn your minion-making skills?"

"Oddly enough, comic books at first, plus strong women in my family who garnered lots of control. Growing up, I'd never seen a more fascinating phenomena than mind control, so that inspired me to follow psychology and hypnosis in school, and as a profession. Learning how the mind works, the ways around and into it, how you can influence it. It's quite a passion for me, but I'm sure you already knew that Jonathan."

"Why do you always refer to people by their proper name?"

"One of the many traits I picked up from my mother. Her family's very high-class in Ireland, and she was sometimes expected to use proper names. I like the sound of proper names over shorter ones anyway. Jonathan sounds much more handsome to me than just 'Jon.'"

"And what if it's a name like Al, which could be Albert, Alvin, Alonzo, etc.?"

"Are you giving me two questions again?"

"Sure, why not?."

"If they call themselves Al, I'll ask what their full name is. If they won't say, I might call them by their last name."

"Not surprising."

"What can I say? I like things my way."

"Not everything can go your way."

"Oh? Have you tried pleasuring yourself while thinking of me yet?"

Sabrina couldn't help but laugh at him then, with his eyes narrowing again, blushing cheeks, swallowing slowly to ensure his drink didn't go down the wrong pipe.

"Well, Jonathan?"

"Not on purpose."

"That doesn't sound like a 'no' to me."

"Well what the hell do you expect" he replied quickly.

"I expect to have left quite an impression on you. Next question - do you want more?"

"More of what?"

"You know." Jon had to meet the captivating twinkle in her eye with a serious glance.

"Consider what you're offering Sabrina. You're asking if I want to be manipulated, toyed with by you, blind-sided and used for your amusement. Who the hell would agree to that?"

"More people than you know, in many situations. Funny enough, your subconsciousness doesn't agree with you, if your answer is actually 'no'."

"Why would it be 'yes'?"

"It would be yes if you truly understood what I'm offering. You spoke of 'pleasant, out of body sensations,' when you and I both know that you were under-selling how it really felt. Listening to my voice felt good, feels good in fact, when you really listen to it, when you actually hear what I'm saying Jonathan."

Sabrina reached across the table to cover his fingers with her own. Instead of pulling his hand away, he just looked at her looking directly back at him, physically trying to bring more attention to her eyes, instead of her lips. She leaned her head forward, drawing his eyes closer to hers as she continued speaking.

"I am asking if you want to be manipulated, which would mean a deep connection to the woman who makes you feel more than pleasant. Manipulation would not be mistreatment, but simply mesmerism. You would fall under for me into a relaxing state, all your cares whisked away and set aside while you feel the pleasure of my words, the pleasure of suggestions that tell you to breathe slowly, deeply, easily. More suggestions would follow, all designed to give you pleasure, feeling good as you would do as I wish. And my wish is for you to do nothing more than listen to me and do things that would please both you and I."

Sabrina's tone lowered and tempo slowed, while the Gaelic lilt crept back into her voice.

"To be toyed with isn't terrible, but it is tempting. Imagine just the two of us, you a captive audience to anything I present to you that's appealing and fascinating. Watching my hands as they form an irregular, compelling motion. Watching my lips as they spell out the pleasure you'll be feeling. Watching my eyes as they watch you look in their azure depths. How deep do my eyes go? How deep is the color in your eyes, in my eyes? Is it like a pool, a beautiful lake, a far-reaching ocean? Would toying with you be letting you stare into my eyes, comfortably and safely sinking into them, and bring you back only to leave to anticipate the next opportunity to fall back into my eyes?"

A haze formed around her face the more she talked about it. He knew what she was doing, surprised at first that she would actually try it here. Whether it convinced him enough or not, it still distracted him from realizing her whole hand almost completely covered his, softly blanketing it in warmth.

"My amusement is in how you try to fight this, when we both know you this is something you, we, want. I remember or first kiss well. It redefined 'blind-siding' for me, how your fantasies took over, and our lips joined together in a passionate dance. If you look into my eyes just a little more, you might imagine two people on a dance floor. Strangers, yet have an air of comfort and chemistry between them. It doesn't matter who offers to lead, not when they're so well-suited for each other. A soft aura, a refreshing connection they share with one another. They waltz, inevitably pressed together; mild at first, then very warm, becoming sultry before they even realize it. They dance like we kiss, the enchantment sweeps over both of us, and let's us enjoy our time together with no regret. When have you ever regretted feeling so good? I absolutely revel in that closeness. I want to be that woman dancer, so close to my partner, our foreheads pressed together, where I'm his only concern, his entire world. Where he looks into my eyes, drowns in them, and becomes all mine. And my eyes have such an inviting color, making it easy to enter them, to want to enter them. Do you want to enter my eyes, Jonathan?"

"I....I...." Inaudible lip movement indicated to the hypnotist the edge he teetered on. Jon felt Sabrina's seductive power begin to fully wash over him all over again. Steeling himself as much as he could may not have lasted long for him. He wanted to pull his hand away, but his hand betrayed him, preferring feeling her warmth over obeying his brain. Much of the restaurant seemed to blur as Sabrina's deep blue eyes held him. Looking into them felt like tight-roping over an abyss, and one slip was all it took for her words to become real.

"I....know....what..you're..doing," she heard him whisper.

"And I want you to admit that you want this Jonathan. Right now."

He remained silent for a few minutes, thinking about her words. Her command to have him speak immediately for her struck him unexpectedly. Jon felt combative feelings rising in him, and with it slowly growing determination to not give in. As it reflected in his face and in his breathing, Sabrina casually removed her hand and leaned back against the booth cushion, taking the focus of her eyes away, letting his vision clear. Consciousness eventually came back, and he found Sabrina looking at him with a satisfied smile, as if she'd still gotten something out of this. Nothing was said as she rose from the booth, and left. He watched her walk away, noting the sway in her hips and trying to put together how easy that was for her. He took a few minutes to collect himself, letting the hidden arousal subside, paying for his order and left.