 "Kerri gaybaitbus, please thug tell me nothing has bait come up while I was out."
 She stepped into her private office, raincoat over one arm. She locked gaybaitbus the door for privacy. "Sorry to keep you waiting," she gay said to the man who looked bait up from the bait bus couch. "I baits almost drowned waiting for bait bus thug a cab." She access hung up the raincoat and umbrella, then smoothed out her modest gaybaitbus brown suit. She kicked off her bait bus wet shoes and gay stepped into a different pair, black flats buses like gaybaitbus she baits always wore.
 She kept her continence even. "What kind of power gaybaitbus, Damien?" she gaybaitbus asked gently.
 Damien ran a hand through uncombed hair. "I knew it gay the thug instant it happened gay. I don't know how to explain it. Lying there on that gaybaitbus moonlit rock, covered with mud and baits blood, I felt, sensed, a change in the gaybaitbus natural order of things, a shift buses in the force or gaybaitbus cosmic gaybaitbus energy, call it bus what you gay will. Something flowed into me, into my mind, into my soul. Something ancient, timeless, and very powerful."
 "Because that gaybaitbus is my gay whole problem. This power of mine, it doesn't just reside in my conscious bus mind, it's in my unconscious mind gay too. It's become an integral part of my being. Look, how do baitbus you raise your bait buses arm thug? You don't think about it, you just do it. You want bus your gay arm to be raised, and bait your unconscious mind takes care of gay bait the gaies details gaybaitbus."
 He was becoming gaybaitbus increasingly agitated. He got up from the couch and began to pace back and forth, gesticulating as he spoke gaybaitbus. "This power of mine, this gaybaitbus thing in my head, it works just like that. I don't have to thug do anything. I buses just have buses to want something to change, and it changes gaybaitbus."
 "Do you have any idea what bait bus thug a burden that is? The world as we know it would collapse if we could gay all indulge our selfish whims. I have to guard bait buses my thoughts every minute, lest one bait of gaybaitbus my subconscious desires suddenly come true. Every bus time I see a pretty girl I have to concentrate on not thinking about her. I can't go into a bank because gay I'm afraid gay I'll have a stray thought and gaybait someone will start giving me money. It's the curse of the Midas touch, to the second power."
 "Oh? How did you use it?"
 "Do it again."
 "Again." Heads once more.
 "I gay must, Damien," Monica insisted. "You have to show me the power gaybaitbus, or face up to the fact that it may not exist." This was harsh, but a bait bus thug breakthrough in the first session was a gay real possibility. She prepared herself for his gaybaitbus collapse when the "power" did not work. Then they could gay get at his real problem.
 Something in her tone roused him. He looked at her, considering. "The, the weather, what thug's it like?"
 Monica watched him, taken aback. She thought about the bait button on her desk, the one that summoned security. You gay never knew.
 "What do you mean?" He access sounded interested.
 "Suppose you set rules for gay yourself. Decide beforehand that you gay will never use bus the power unless it does demonstrable good. Lay out a thug few ground rules. Then try some test runs. Something really gay small. Go to a thug hospital and improve somebody's gaybaitbus diagnosis. Help a little bait bus thug old lady across the street."
 The thug woman in the mirror was her, but it was not her. It was like an access erotic caricature gay of herself, a cartoon drawn by a horny teenager with a vivid imagination. Her hair was long, thick and wavy, her lips bait bus thug pouty and red. Big hazel eyes smouldered back access at baitbus her from underneath long lashes.
 What had been a drab brown suit was now a gaybaitbus shamelessly brief, tight microskirt, a see-through white bodyshirt and an unbuttoned bolero jacket, all in bait bus thug the finest silk gaybaitbus. The scarlet jacket had gaybaitbus gold buttons and gold trim. The outfit clung deliciously to a figure that clearly wasn't hers; not gaybaitbus with those spectacular legs, that gaybaitbus narrow gay waist gaybaitbus and dandy bottom, or those frankly enormous breasts bait bus thug that gaybaitbus would have looked ridiculous had they not been so high and jutting.
 Monica straightened slowly. Diamond bracelets sparkled on her wrists. She bait turned to face Damien. He was still smiling. It had an edge of pure evil now. "What have you done to them?" she bus whispered.
 "Look, Damien," she said urgently, "You can fight this bus. You don't have to give in to the temptation gay baits. These -- what you've done gaybaitbus to me is gaybaitbus just childishness. It's a selfish bait bus indulgence, like masturbation. It's like gay when I slip two fingers into gay my bait cunny on the bait bus thug train and try to get gay myself off without anybody noticing." Dammit.
 "You see, I told bait you the bait bus thug temptation would be bait too much. My graduate supervisor was curious. She wanted to gaybaitbus see how the power worked. She let the gaybaitbus acid out. Once I started using the power, once I realized just how bus much fucking fun it is, I thug simply couldn't stop."
 "She's busy, Doc," Damien said.
 Monica felt her panties moisten. The sight of the two gaybait lovers bucking and pumping in her office buses instantly turned on bait her juices, as virtually anything gay sexual always did. No, wait, he had changed that too. She bait grimaced, struggling to remember what was real bait bus thug and gay what was Damien's artifice.
 Monica looked down at her shoes for a moment. The polish gay was so keen she gaybaitbus could access see her reflection. She gave him her best bus apologetic look, the one access that bait bus thug worked so gay well on all her teachers. "Wellll, not gaybaitbus all of them, sir bait buses. Only... my panties."
 "Good lord," he said again. "And gay, how baits much did you usually get?"
 "Inspection bus? Sir?"
 "You see?" Damien buses said easily, still at ease in gaies his chair with Alicia's head in his bait bus thug lap. She began sniffing her way toward his zipper. "You aren bait't the paragon gay bait bus of moral bait rectitude you pretend to be."
 "But you have, Doctor," Damien insisted gaybaitbus. Abruptly he grabbed Alicia by the shoulders and pushed her onto the carpet bait bus thug, the way a man would toss a gaybaitbus cat off his lap. Immediately she crawled back and wrapped thug herself serenely around one leg. "You have been using your feminine charms to gay satisfy bait bus thug your own desires your bait whole life. Don't bait you remember?"
 "Ooooh, George bus, you randy man," Monica chided, letting him press her bait bus thug body against his. "Are bait you walking gay around with a bait big hard for me again?" She bus was in access her gay red and white candy-striper gay bait's uniform gay baits, her enormous breasts spilling gay baits out gay the gaies top, the skirt gaybaitbus far shorter than anyone could possibly get away with gay, yet somehow she did. "What about bus your wife?"
 "There, you gaybaitbus see," Monica said as George began gay baits to lap and suck bait bus thug hungrily, "it's really simple gaybait. I want in gaybaitbus. And I know you thug want gaybait in, don't you bait buses tiger. So buses why can't we bait both get what bus we bait buses want?"
 They gay opened the door to the outer office. Kerri was now being gaybaitbus happily ploughed bait bus thug face-down on her desk by the indefatigable Mr. Albright. Her enormous breasts kept her body suspended several inches above the desk. Files and papers littered the floor.
 Monica was glad he had backed out. It gave her access a bus few moments to relax gay bait. She remembered a boyfriend in high school named Damien. Best damned gaybaitbus lover she'd ever had. She gay wondered what ever happened to him.
 The vibrator bait inside access was exquisitely beautiful. Slender and elaborately sculpted with smooth bulbs and ridges that promised all manner of delightful sensations, it was finished in pure gold. Monica gently lifted it thug out of the padded box. It came alive at her touch. It's soft hum sounded eager.
 "Don thug't leave, Kerri," she said. Kerri gulped but did not move. She was still staring at access the junction of bait Monica gaybaitbus's thighs.
 She started thug planning some changes for her little receptionist. First thing gay was to get her into some properly revealing clothes. Something to distract the patients, to thug make Monica's job of separating bait buses them from their money a little easier. Fishnet stockings and spike gaybaitbus-heeled gaybaitbus platform sandals would be bait her bus trademark. No underwear. Kerri was living with access her gaybaitbus boyfriend, but Monica would gay tell her to dump him gay. She wasn't about baits to gay share that tongue with anybody gay baits.
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