Chapter 16: Confronting the Problem

(Shirley)

Jim was hard when he got into bed. I think his excitement was due to his surprise at seeing Wendy naked in our house unexpectedly, but when we made love that night, Wendy wasn't there at all. He was gentle and loving--in short, the wonderful person that he always was. When he kissed me, I knew he wasn't thinking of my naked friend sleeping on top of the covers in the next room. He was thinking about me.

I thought it kind of cute, actually. Jim probably saw Wendy naked a dozen times or more, but he seemed embarrassed about her nakedness this time.

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee. I realized that Wendy must have got up before us. I turned and saw Jim smiling at me.

"Good morning, Miss Wonderful."

I frowned. I loved calling Jim Mr. Wonderful, and now he took my pet name for him from me! The nerve of that big oaf!

To get even, I moved over to him and gave him the biggest kiss I could give him with a full bladder, then hopped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, getting to the toilet just in time.

By the time I arrived downstairs, Wendy and Jim were sitting at the breakfast table, with three omelets made from Egg Beaters and low-fat cheese.

"About time you woke up, Sleepy Head!" Wendy said, cheerfully.

"You made breakfast?" I asked, incredulously. Wendy told me a while back that when she over-indulges at night, she usually wakes up with a hell of a hangover. She admitted to me once that she occasionally had to call in sick with the "Irish Flu" after a long night out, although that didn't happen very often.

"Sure. I woke up at six." Wendy smiled, and I could tell it wasn't forced. "I was a bit disoriented--I found myself laying naked in a strange bed. Then I realized that I was at Jim's house, which would explain the strange bed and my nakedness. Would my hypnotic command to strip when I come into this place work when I'm drunk?"

Jim shrugged. "Apparently, it does." He thought for a moment and added, "I'm not aware of any studies of alcohol and hypnotism other than trying to use hypnotism to cure alcoholism," he explained. "Those are usually futile."

"Weird," Wendy said. "I don't remember anything."

"Yeah," I said, still surprised at Wendy's condition. "Jim helped you out of your car. I drove you here."

Wendy frowned as she tried to make sense out what I said. It occurred to me that I gave it to her out of sequence. She then smiled and said, "Thanks for saving me from those ... hoodlums, I think."

"Oh, that wasn't a problem."

Wendy looked a bit sheepish. "I borrowed one of your outfits, this morning. I didn't want to wear the same clothes to work today."

"Oh!" I noticed that she wore on a pant suit of mine. Looking carefully, I saw that it was a bit big on her.

Wendy saw me looking. "It's a bitch to lose weight, huh? I guess we'll both have to buy whole new wardrobes! And it's Jim's fault!"

We laughed. Jim looked a bit confused, but joined in.

Jim motioned for me to sit down and I did.

As I ate breakfast, Wendy told me, "Jim made the omelets."

"They're good," I assured him after taking a bite. It really was good, actually. I smiled at my Prince Handsome.

"Thanks." Jim shrugged.

My curiosity got the better of me. "You are looking ... well, you are looking better than I thought this morning."

Wendy nodded. "Yeah. It's strange. I would have bet I would have had a headache the size of Cleveland this morning, but I feel wonderful."

Jim got an uncomfortable look on his face. "I ... well ... I'm responsible for that."

The two of us looked at Jim, wondering what he was talking about.

Jim explained, "I asked Shirley to give you a large class of water before you went to bed. She also gave you some aspirin."

Wendy looked confused. "That explains my bathroom rush this morning." She then asked, "Was I really in a condition to drink when I got here? I don't remember anything since I got up to leave the bar."

"Yeah," Jim said. "Actually, I used your hypnotic trigger to get you to drink without choking on the water. I wanted to make sure you didn't dehydrate too much. The aspirin was to soothe the headache that I knew you would have when you woke up."

Wendy smiled. "Aah. That makes sense. I woke up feeling refreshed. I was confused myself why I didn't have a hangover."

Jim still looked uncomfortable. "Well, I did it without permission, but I thought it would help. I'm sorry if I crossed a line, there."

Wendy frowned at Jim's expression. "That's all you hypnotized me to do, right?"

"Oh, yes," Jim said hurriedly.

I thought for a moment and said, "He only spent about a minute alone with you, Wendy. If he took your virtue last night, it would have to have been a real quickie!"

Wendy laughed, and after a few moments, Jim did, too.

"I gave her a post-hypnotic suggestion that she'd wake up refreshed, that's all," Jim assured us. "That's usually a standard hypnotic suggestion. The idea is to let the subject wake up refreshed, and they usually associate the hypnotism with relaxation, and are more prone to try it again. That wasn't my intention with Wendy; I just didn't want her to feel like shit this morning."

"I feel wonderful," Wendy said, smiling at Jim.

Jim's looked relieved.

I was curious. Was Jim's relief that Wendy appreciated his suggestion, or that Wendy didn't suspect anything else? My curiosity also was piqued due to the fact that I also wondered if there was something else he did to Wendy last night.

Hmm. Now where did that thought come from?

(Jim)

I could see suspicion in Shirley's eyes for a few moments, and I reflected to myself that this was a problem with the whole hypnotic relationship thing: there was no way for her to know what I might do to my subjects.

Actually, I knew when I admitted that I hypnotized Wendy last night that something of this sort would come up. However, I made a promise to myself that I would be honest with both Wendy and Shirley from now on about hypnotism, and I wasn't going to fuck up that promise the first time it came to a test.

For any of you potential hypnotists out there reading this, you better think of this if you are going to be fucking with people's minds--especially the minds of people you really care about.

When I kissed Shirley good-bye that morning, I noticed that she was a bit hesitant. I needed to give her time to think things through, and I left with Wendy to go to work.

"What's wrong with Shirley?" Wendy asked as I pulled my car out of the driveway.

"She's coming to grips with this whole hypnosis thing."

"Ahh."

The car was quiet for about five minutes as the two of us were lost in our thoughts.

Finally, I said, "You know, there are times that I wish that I never hypnotized either of you in the first place. As I told Shirley a day or so ago, I'm not a licensed therapist. I could get sued for what I've been doing. On the other hand, though, I probably would never have fallen in love with Shirley if I didn't offer to help her lose weight."

"The two of you are in love, aren't you?" asked Wendy.

"I really think so. I know how I feel, and I'm certain that Shirley feels the same way."

"She does," Wendy assured me. "I think I'm a bit to blame. She told me about her reaction to a movie the two of you watched."

"Bondage Bitches," I said with a sigh. "I wish we never saw that damned movie."

Wendy looked at me strangely. "Why do you say that?"

"She now has this fantasy about being a slave, and asked me to make her one via hypnosis."

"I know. She told me."

I was surprised about that, but I knew the two girls were close. I looked at Wendy and softly said, "She bought a dog collar."

"Oh!" Wendy looked surprised. "She didn't tell me that."

I returned my attention to the road. "I think I lost it when she showed me that thing. I told her that I wanted her as an equal. I may have disappointed her."

Wendy was silent for a couple of minutes. "She was disappointed, but I think she understood. As I said before, I may be to blame for that one."

"Blame you for what?" I asked.

"I asked Shirley if the slave thing was her fantasy or your fantasy. I may have put the seeds of doubt in her mind. I've known a lot of people that try out that scene, and few of them really think before they act. I've met real submissives with people playing to be dominant, and I've seen the same thing the other way around. It's never a pretty sight."

"Oh?"

Wendy gave me a secret smile. I decided I didn't want to go there. It was my turn to be quiet for a few minutes. I turned off the highway to the exit where the company was. As we pulled into the parking lot, I said, "Don't blame yourself. This is something that Shirley and I need to work out. Probably you and I, too. I assure you that I didn't give you any post-hypnotic suggestion last night ... or any other time, for that matter. Except, of course, the ones you know about."

"Like stripping after entering your house?" Wendy asked.

"Yeah. Like that. If you want, I can take that one away. I think it was a bit childish."

The two of us were sitting in my parked car. "It's not necessary," Wendy assured me. "By the way, I believe you, Jim. You are probably the most straightforward guy I know. Hell, if Shirley didn't snag you, I might be interested in you. I could probably mold you into the perfect guy for me." Wendy blushed just a little, and then added, "It's not easy for somebody like Shirley to give up control to a guy. She trusted you, and now she is having doubts."

"What do you mean by 'somebody like Shirley?'" I asked.

"Shirley has always been a ball buster. You know that."

I nodded. "Ah, the old Shirley. Yeah. I knew that."

"I don't think you knew her the way I did," Wendy added. "She hated men. I saw her in action a few times before the two of you started dating. She used to go to bars and pick up guys."

Wendy's remark didn't make sense. I asked, "Shirley hated men, so she picked them up?"

Wendy sighed. "Last night, a couple of guys were hitting on the two of us. When they saw that Shirley was drinking soft drinks, they lost interest in her. I already had too much to drink, so Shirley kept me safe. That's why she drove me home. It's our standard procedure when we drink during your poker nights. If one of us looks as if they want to tie one on, the other is the designated driver. Sometimes we work it out in advance, but we usually just play it by ear. Anyway, think of what would have happened if Shirley wasn't there. Either of those guys--or both!--would probably have continued to ply me with drinks until I passed out and found myself in one of their beds. Or worse."

"Worse?" Was Wendy hinting that those guys might have been criminals?

Wendy nodded. "Worse, like being brought to a party in progress and being the star of an adult film. That sort of thing. The Internet is full of such stuff." She shuddered a bit.

I thought for a few moments, and said, "I figured what happened last night from what Shirley said and didn't say. So ... what does that have to do with anything?"

"Shirley used to do the same thing!"

"What?" I asked, incredulously. "She got drunk and woke up in other guys' beds?"

"No," Wendy said, a bit exasperated. "Well, not exactly, anyway. It was more the other way around. She'd get the guys drunk, fuck them, then leave them."

"Shirley did that?"

"As I said, I saw her in action once or twice." Wendy went silent, pondering a bit, then shrugged and added, "I don't think she really knew me then. A friend of mine pointed her out to me. Shirley and I weren't really that close at work until later. Anyway, what I was trying to get at was that the guys last night weren't the kind of guys that really appreciate women. They take advantage of them, but they don't really like them."

Wendy paused, and I tried to follow her logic. "And Shirley took advantage of guys?"

"I think so," Wendy said. She looked like she wanted to say more, but checked herself. "As I said, we were never that close that we ever really discussed it when she was doing it. Did she ever mention things like that to you?"

It was my time to think. Shirley did give me some clues about her previous life, but she never said anything directly. "Not really, but what you are saying does make sense." I thought about that time, a week ago, when Shirley was harping on me. I wondered then if she was a misandrist. If she was, though, she was usually pretty loving with me.

"Shirley never trusted guys--until you," Wendy explained. "Now, I guess I gave her reason to doubt you. I'm sorry, Jim."

"Don't be sorry," I said. "The two of us are going to have to deal with this eventually. I guess it's better sooner than later."

"The two of you really need to talk," Wendy said.

I agreed.

Wendy and I got out of the car. We both went our separate ways as we started to work.

(Shirley)

After Wendy and Jim left, I took a long shower and got dressed. It was going to be hard getting used to not working for the next few weeks, that's for sure!

I pulled out my laptop and booted it up. Jim set me up to access his wireless LAN when I moved in, and it was faster than the setup at my old apartment, where I was required to share a slow Internet connection with about a dozen people in my building.

When I opened my email program, I saw a message from Jim. The subject line read, "Thinking of you!"

I opened the message, and the message simply repeated the subject and said that there was an image attachment. I double-clicked the image and when it opened, there were images of hearts all over my screen! Big hearts, small ones, a few with "Shirley and Jim" written in calligraphy with an arrow through the heart as well.

I smiled, and saw that there was a second image. It simply consisted of the words, "I LOVE YOU" in very large type, filling the entire screen.

That big oaf was going to get his when he got home! I idly wondered if I could possibly gift-wrap myself with a large bow. Then I got the idea to forget the wrapping paper, and just cover myself with a large bow. That wouldn't technically be "clothes" (as in, I wasn't allowed to wear anything at the house without permission), would it?