Soon I was saying, “Paul, you are so relaxed now that you can’t even think any more. Sex Then one of his hands floated up to touch his face, his eyes closed and he was under; I’d programmed that whole sequence into him because I thought it looked so hot. But you were also having the best sex ever… and the greatest physical pleasure. So you won’t remember a thing about it. Before I even realized that I meant to speak, I was already saying, “Trance time for you, Paul.” My handsome roomie froze in mid-step, his eyelids fluttering closed, the neatly folded jeans falling from his suddenly relaxed fingers. Later that afternoon, I found myself thinking, “Why couldn’t I hypnotize Paul?” I was sure I remembered exactly what Mr. I had to have him… permanently! Miller just did that guy Andrew in class.” (We’d just witnessed a demonstration on one of our fellow students by the young psychology Graduate Teaching Assistant.) “If he could make Andrew forget how to tie his shoes, and sing the blues whenever he heard his own name, or any of the other stuff he had him do, then it ought to possible to get your new roomie to stop snoring and living like a bear in a cave.”
I laughed, and we started talking about other things, but
