Sure enough, at precisely nine, there was a soft knock. I sat back, smiling, and shivered in spite of myself. I'd been right, I knew I'd been right, but that soft knock always took my breath away.

"Come in."

Meg Lewis, age twenty three, opened my door and peered in as if uncertain of what she would find - which was exactly the case.

"Um... Dr. Wrobel?"

"Yes, dear, come right in." It would have been poor form to say I'd been expecting her. The poor thing was puzzled enough already.

She took a step, then two, into my office, looking around and still holding the door handle. "Miss Lewis, how nice. Please, dear, come in." I was happy - and not the least bit surprised - to see she wore white pants and a white top.

The door closed and she came over to stand in front of my desk. I rose to greet her.

"What can I do for you tonight, Miss Lewis?"

Megan Lewis looked around my office again. It was a most unremarkable place, in and of itself. It was the things that sometimes happened in this office that made it so special. But again, Meg had no idea. She blushed a little and smiled, looking down at my desk.

"Well, I... I don't... Um... well..." She took a deep breath and tried again, still looking at my desk. "I was... just... out walking... and I..." She paused, the flush on her cheeks deepening. I smiled.

"Miss Lewis, if I recall correctly, your apartment is several miles away. Do you always take such long walks?"

She looked at the floor, shook her head, and mumbled. I waited. It was all up to her. I knew I'd been right, and I waited patiently for Meg Lewis to prove it.

At length she apparently settled her internal discussion. She sighed, stood up straight, squared her shoulders, and looked at me. After a few seconds, however, her gaze dropped back to the desk.

"Dr. Wrobel, I'm so sorry. I don't know why I'm here. Yes, my apartment is a ways away. I must have come here for a reason - but I have no idea what it is."

Perfect.

I gestured to the chair she stood beside, and as she sank into it I sat down behind my desk. It was time to explain to her why she was here.

"Dear, what is the name of the course you're now taking with me?"

She looked at me, looked away, and grinned nervously. "Introduction to Erotic Hypnosis."

I nodded. "Precisely. And to be honest, I think your term paper does an admirable job of expressing your definition of erotic hypnosis."

That took her by surprise, of course. She stared at me, her mouth agape. "But... but... I haven't even turned it in yet... how did you...?"

"Miss Lewis, you have your own laptop computer, don't you?"

She looked even more confused now, and could only nod.

"But you've done the majority of your term paper work on one of the school computers." Another hesitant nod.

"And why is that? Why do you work on your term paper in the student lab instead of at your apartment?"

She sat perfectly still, mouth open, eyes fixed upon a spot on my desk. She did not find the answer there, and after a while her head moved very slowly, side to side. "I have no idea..." she whispered.

I smiled and leaned back in my chair. "For the same reason you are here tonight."

No reaction other than another deepening of the color of her cheeks. Maybe her hands gripped the arms of the chair a little harder, I could not tell. Not a word was spoken for quite some time. Again, it was up to her.

At length she blinked and glanced up at the ceiling. No answers there either. "I was... I am... am I...? Hypnotised?"

"Yes, you were, and no, you are not."

Another pause while she digested that. Then : "How?"

Perfect.

"You started your paper here, in one of the labs. I will cheerfully admit that I had been hoping you would. You see, deep down inside one of the servers is a program I developed myself. It was waiting for you, Meg."

She blinked. Several times. "What?"

"When you signed on to the network, my program knew. And it began to show you things. Things you saw but didn't see. Things no one else would notice even if they were there with you. My program told you things and asked you things. At first you thought they were just part of the school network. After a while you didn't even notice them."

"...told me things...?"

"Yes, dear. My program told you things, and then it asked you about the things you'd been told. For a few days it told you to only use the school computers. And again, I will cheerfully admit that every time I saw you in the lab, it excited me because I knew you were responding to my program."

"...why...?"

"The more you used my program the more you were affected by it. As the weeks went by the things you were shown became more powerful. And I could follow your progress, because every time you signed off, my program told me what you had done. It wrapped around and melded with the word processor you used, and one byproduct of that was I've watched your paper mature into a very well-written discourse."

She smiled, hesitantly, nervously. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You are quite welcome, Miss Lewis. But the purpose of my program is not to preview term papers. No, no, it is much more than that."

No response. No reaction. Meg Lewis sat there, looking at me, red-faced and barely breathing, afraid to ask the next question. This time I didn't make her.

I leaned forward and clasped my hands on my desk. Meg automatically started to recoil, just a little, but stopped herself. She took another deep breath and sat up a little straighter.

"After the first few sessions, my program completely captivated you every single time you worked on your paper. I commend you for doing such good work despite your frequent... distractions?... yes, that's the word. And every time my program distracted you, it made it just a little easier to distract you the next time, and each period of distraction was a little more intense... a little more focused... than the last."

She swallowed, cleared her throat, and looked at me. "Why me?"

I smiled gently. "Because, my dear Miss Lewis, after meeting you at the beginning of the term, I decided I would like to know you better. And as the semester has progressed it is clear to me that you are a very special young woman. In class you seem shy and reserved. But I sense that you aren't afraid to try new things, to explore new horizons. My program did not impart any new or unfamiliar desires to you, nor did it take advantage of any desires you already have. Most of the time you spent under the influence of my program revolved around three things. The first was your presence here tonight."

Her eyes narrowed. "So I was given a post-hypnotic suggestion to feel the need to come here?"

"No, dear. You were given the knowledge that your presence here tonight would be appreciated. You made the decision to come yourself. I am certain you understand the difference."

She blinked again. Clearly that wasn't what she'd expected. Her mouth opened and closed several times, and I laughed softly.

"Erotic hypnosis isn't always about reaching climax, dear. I believe page six of your paper says that part of the eroticism of hypnosis is the possibility of the impossible. Be honest, please - if not for my program letting you know, in its own way, that I was interested, would you have given any thought at all to meeting a grey-haired professor in her office long after hours?"

A tentative smile, a slight shake of the head. "No..."

"There. You see? As I said before, your apparent willingness to try new things impressed me. I thought - and I hoped - you would find the idea of being distracted by my program erotic. And I thought - and hoped - you would enjoy our time together tonight. There are so many new things, so many new horizons. However, you are free to leave, if you wish. I would much rather you stay a while, but understand I will not use hypnosis or any other means to keep you here if you do not wish to stay."

She nodded, no longer looking at me. Her expression showed her conflict - remain here with a middle-aged, grey-haired - but still attractive - woman, or leave now and write the night off to experience.

I waited, wondering if she was thinking about everything I'd said. Would she ask the obvious question before making her decision?

A moment later she blinked and looked sharply at me. "You said the program did three things."

It was going to be an enjoyable night. My smile was broad indeed.

"Very good, Meg. Very good. Yes, I said your sessions with my program revolved around three things."

She nodded and spread her hands in a "Well?" gesture. I forgave her impertinence. After all, this was new to her, and new things were what the evening was all about.

"You don't shy away from new things. Have you ever... what's the term the younger people use - gone... commando, is that it? Have you ever gone out with no bra or panties?

Her jaw dropped again, and after a few emphatic shakes of her head gave me an emphatic no.

I smiled, gently. It was time to set the hook, so to speak. It was still up to her, all up to her, but the next few moments would most likely make her realize the possibilities.

My voice was very soft. "Tell me, Meg. What color bra do you have on right now? And what color panties?"

Meg's head dropped, jerking back up after a split second. Every bit of color drained from her face, and her mouth hung wide open. She sat there, absolutely stunned, staring at me. I remained silent. Waiting. It was all up to her - but I was already getting moist.

The silence stretched on, but I wasn't giving her any help this time. It must have been almost two minutes before she spoke, and when she did, her voice was raw, hoarse, filled with awe instead of anger.

"Holy shit..."

I folded my hands on the desk and looked at her. "Meg. Stay. Please."

Megan Lewis looked at me for a long time, the color slowly returning to her face.

Then, slowly, she nodded.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Thank you," I whispered back. We continued looking at each other, silently, and after a few moments she smiled crookedly.

"Do I dare ask about the third thing the program did?"

I stood up and stretched, knowing her eyes were on me, knowing she was wondering what the evening would bring. I took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and easily, and grinned at her.

"For now let's just say you will find out if the situation arises. Is that all right with you?"

She considered for a moment before nodding. "Yes. That's OK." Then she laughed, laughed out loud. "I can't believe I'm not wearing panties. My God, I've never done that, ever. I always thought it was... well... weird."

I sat on the edge of my desk and smiled at her. "And now that you've done it, how does it feel?"

Her laughter quieted, her smiled slipped. She looked nervous again, glancing up at me, not wanting to meet my eyes. "Well," she said, her feet sliding back and forth, "it still feels... well... weird. I don't know if this is something I'd ever do again."

I stood up again. "If you're not comfortable with it, you needn't do it. You may put on some panties. But there's another problem, isn't there? I doubt you brought any with you."

Her smile returned. "Dr. Wrobel, pardon me for saying so, but I'm quite certain you know exactly what I did or didn't bring here tonight."

I gave her a wink, which she replied to with a hearty, pink-cheeked laugh.

"As a matter of fact, Miss Lewis, I did have an idea that you might be in need of a few things this evening." I went back behind my desk and removed a bag from the bottom drawer. "There are, of course, regulations regarding the giving of gifts to students, but there is nothing preventing me from supplying you with basic necessities when the need is obvious. My dear, these are for you."

Her flush deepened as she took the bag. She opened it, peered inside, and then reached in and extracted the contents.

There was a pair of plain, simple, blue thong panties, and a quite plain, nothing fancy or exotic, bra. She looked at them, then at me, and the crooked smile returned. "Thank you."

I could tell she had probably hoped for, or even expected, some fancy expensive Victoria's Secret apparel. After all, this was a special occasion, and so should have warranted special dress. She was right, but in a different way.

"Um... is this where you hypnotise me into taking my clothes off?" It was asked with a smile, but it was clear some doubt was returning.

"Meg, any suggestions given to you were exactly that - suggestions. If we decide that you want to be hypnotised tonight, we will decide that together. Otherwise, you will only be reacting to the suggestions - yes, suggestions - you've already received. And since you already know two and we have agreed to set the third aside, the short answer is no, I am not going to hypnotise you into taking your clothes off."

She looked disappointed. Her doubt must have been swept away again.

"But I would very much like to see you in the panties. I would like to see you in those panties, topless. Whether you wish to allow me this sight is up to you."

Another long pause, expected and yet so agonising. Her hesitation was no longer due to fear of me, I was certain. It was due to her own disbelief in the fact that she was indeed allowing this.

She trembled and stood, grinning that crooked grin. Her blonde hair fell around her shoulders, and with two hands she gathered it behind her and let it go. Bright red, visibly shaking, Meg Lewis unbuttoned her top. She took the open fabric in her hands, but before pulling it aside and exposing herself, she swallowed hard and looked at me.

"I don't believe I'm doing this," she said, her voice breaking.

"Meg, dear, tonight there may be many things you do not believe at first. That doesn't make them bad, or wrong, does it?"

She was silent for a few seconds, pondering, then grinned. "No." And without any more hesitation she pulled her top off. I tried hard not to stare at her protruding nipples, and instead found myself looking at a necklace which had been tucked between her breasts. She realized what I was looking at and laughed.

"How's that for irony? I'm wearing the only thing I've ever hypnotised anyone with." she took the chain between her fingers and held it up, and the small crystal swung in a tight arc.

I smiled and wagged my finger. "Now, now, dear. No extra points for entrancing the professor."

She laughed and reached for the new blue bra. I placed my hand on hers - gently. She gasped at the first physical contact, but made no attempt to move away. I removed her hand from the bra and said, "Please, dear. Your pants? Please."

She grinned and nodded. "OK. This is incredible..." There was no trace of her previous uncertainty, and within seconds her pants were on the floor and Meg Lewis stood naked before her Introduction to Erotic Hypnosis professor. The first thing I noticed was that she had recently used a razor in a place I had never even thought to. She again saw where my eyes were and grinned.

"Commando, no. Smooth, yes." That drew a laugh from me, and I offered her the blue panties. I was not surprised when she took them but did not put them on.

"Um... Dr. Wrobel... are you... well... are you sure you want me to get dressed already?"

"Please, dear. Blue is my favorite color."

She looked disappointed, but smiled anyway as she slipped on her new blue thong panties. A few seconds later she looked at me and spread her arms to the sides. "Well? How do I look? How does your favorite color look... on... look... uh..." Her eyes widened, her hands dropped a few inches.

"You look lovely, Meg. Tell me. How do you feel?

"Feel?" Already her voice was higher. "It feels like... this thong... something in it... feels... almost.... oh, god.... like... vibrator... but... different.. like it's.. like it's... everywhere... oh, God..."

I sat down in Meg's recently vacated chair and watched her respond to the third of her post-hypnotic suggestions. Wearing the blue panties did indeed create pleasurable sensations in her pubic area. I smiled as her hands drifted between her legs, then moved quickly away. Time after time this happened, and her eyes went wider each time.

"I can't... why can't I... touch..." she reached for her breasts and discovered that they, too, were off limits. "I can't touch myself!" Her voice was almost pleading.

"I know dear. I know. Trust me. You don't really need to."

She looked at me and nodded, or maybe it was just her head bobbing around as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. It wasn't blinding, orgiastic, head-spinning ecstasy. It was constant and yet changing, gentle ripples then stronger rushes, never enough to make her cum, but always enough to make her shudder.

Her eyes closed and her body swayed, hips undulating as she tried to squeeze an orgasm out of the sensations which enveloped her. It was not to be so. "Oh God..."

I watched, growing ever more aroused myself, as Miss Lewis drifted through the mists of undeniable, uncontrollable, unending pleasure. Her hands roamed her body, never touching, always trying. Trying to caress, to squeeze, to fondle. To bring herself to the climax she so desired.

After one particularly loud moan, she half-opened her eyes and tried to focus them on me. "The bra," she panted. "Does it... does it do... the same thing?"

My smile was her answer. She grabbed it off the desk and put it on as quickly as her quivering fingers would allow. It was so hard to sit there and not help her.

Bra in place, she straightened and looked at me, her body swaying and shivering. Our eyes were locked on each other as her body began to react to the hypnotic suggestion relating to the blue bra.

"Oh... my... GOD....." Her eyes were wide as saucers, her hands clutched in vain at her suddenly-sensitized breasts. Now three of her erogenous zones were being stimulated by the power of hypnosis, and Meg's cries became louder, more wanton, with each passing moment. Her hands flew over her body, searching uselessly for somewhere, anywhere, to touch, grab, squeeze, probe, finger, caress. Her body was shaking violently, and as I watched, her knees began to buckle.

"Perhaps you should sit down, dear." Meg nodded wildly, and I fairly leapt from the chair. Meg instantly fell into it, slouched down, spread her legs, and grabbed the arms of the chair as tightly as she could. She squeezed her eyes shut and tensed her body, again trying to bring about an orgasm that would not happen. Denial was not part of my plan, however. Nothing I had suggested to her specifically prevented her from cumming. Not really.

Ten minutes later, Meg was literally bouncing up and down in the chair, still gripping the arms, crying out over and over. Her eyes were closed, her head was, for the most part, thrown back. With every heave of her body, her necklace flew up and down, moving an inch or two across her chest every time. For a brief instant I wondered who she had hypnotised with that necklace, and made a mental note to ask her.

Later.

A long wail refocused my attention on my over-excited guest. She spoke, her words barely coherent - and desperate.

"God... Dr... Wrobel... how... how... I have to... have to... how do I... please... I have to... cum... please..."

I leaned down and spoke softly to her. "There is no need to beg, dear. Domination, either of you or the world, is not on my agenda. In order to achieve climax, you must remove your bra and panties...."

She was out of the chair in an instant, letting loose a cry of blind desire and anticipation. The thong came off, the bra came off - and Meg Lewis stood there, breathing heavily, trembling, her blond hair a mess. Looking at me. Waiting. Waiting.

Thirty seconds went by. I was surprised she let it go that long.

"What..." Her eyes were wide as she took a step toward me. "Why aren't I cumming?"

"I hadn't finished, dear. In order to achieve climax you must remove your bra and panties - because while they will bring you pleasure, it's the touch of a caring person that brings you satisfaction."

For a long moment she stared at me as if I'd lost my mind. Then, all at once, the answer came to her.

Meg Lewis took one step forward, wrapped her arms around me, and kissed me. I kissed back, basking in her heat, allowing my hands to glide over her skin, the same skin she had tried so hard to touch so recently. Her knees buckled again, and we sank clumsily yet gently to the floor.

While everyone has heard the stories about 'older women', there are few who actually have the curiosity or courage to find out if they are true. I had thought Meg would be one of them, and I'd been correct.

And, as Meg was finding out, the stories were correct as well. At least, when it came to me, they were. We did things she would never in her life have experienced any other way, and I was pleased but not surprised when she willingly parted her legs and allowed me to savor her taste. It must have been very different for her, seeing a grey mane hovering there.

We lay on the floor, warm and satiated in each other's arms. She stirred, and I dreamily ran my fingers over her breast, between them, and back up. Along the way I felt the chain, and remembered.

"Your necklace," I said softly, feeling her hand warm and still on my abdomen. "You said you'd used it before?"

"Mm-hmm." She rose slightly and leaned on her elbow, looking down at me, disheveled and beguiling. She removed her hand from abdomen and took the chain between her fingers.

"Yes. Not a lot, but it's always worked."

I smiled. She would go far. "It's not the trinkets, love. It's the hypnotist. And you'll be a wonderful hypnotist."

She seemed to freeze for an instant, but I was too warm and comfortable to really notice.

"Um... Dr. Wrobel... would you mind... I mean, would it be OK if I... um... would you see if my technique really is what it should be?"

She was so warm, so close. I felt so good, bathing in the afterglow of ecstasy. I nodded. I'd be happy to see her sometime and discuss her technique.

The crystal was in front of me swinging slowly. It was pretty, but the trinkets weren't what induced trance. It was the hypnotist. The voice...

Meg really had a nice voice, I noticed dimly. And the necklace really would make a nice fixation point...

We really did need to discuss her technique someday. We needed to talk quietly about entering a trance state. A very deep, very relaxed, very safe and comfortable trance state. Very deep. Very, very deep.

Very deep......

Of course, I was still naked on the floor. I rose and gathered my things, but my panties were nowhere to be found. I was laughing again and thinking of what to say to Meg next class when I found them. They were on my desk chair, and there was a red lipstick kiss imprinted right over where my pubic patch would be.

Had she... Oh my.

I was actually blushing as I put the panties on. Yes, the kiss was right over my pubic patch. I stood there for a long time, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing did.

Of course not, I scolded myself. This was her way of thanking me, of leaving me a souvenir of our time together.

Impressed by my guest, embarrassed at my own foolish notions, I got dressed, tidied up a little, and locked my office behind me.

It was the wee hours of the morning as I drove home. That's what made it a surprise when I pulled into the local 24-hour grocery store. With growing curiosity and excitement I was drawn into the store and to one particular aisle.

There before me was a wide selection of razors and accompanying supplies. I reached for a few specific things, knowing why, understanding why, and finding that knowledge exceedingly arousing.

I drove home and showered, fighting an ever-increasing urge, need, desire to try my new purchases. By the time I opened the shopping bag... No, I didn't open it, I ripped it apart. One thing was certain - Meg was quite proficient at stimulating urges.

Very carefully I experimented with my purchases. Haste was not an option, nor was there any subconscious nudging to hurry. I took my time, and when I was done, I was just as bare - if not as smooth - as Meg had been.

Success! Grinning I left the bathroom, again imagining the coming conversation with Meg.

Back in my bedroom were my lipsticked panties. I looked at them, shuddered, and understood.

Trembling, I put my panties on, the fabric feeling very different against my now-bare skin. The lipstick was directly over the shaved area.

"Oh my.............."