 He tried to say something, but all teen that teenteenteen came out was teen a hoarse croak.
 Paul allowed himself to teen be soothed. He didn't really have much choice, after all; either he'd be okay or he teen wouldn't, but he was in no position to leap up teenteenteen and make a break for it. After a while, he went teen to sleep again teen.
 What happened next was totally unexpected. The teenteenteen gorgeous nurse stiffened, then, eyes widening, casually unbuttoned her blouse, and tossed it aside. Then she leaned forward over him and said, "Is this good enough, Mr. Bennett?"
 Rhonda teen shuddered, picturing herself trying to explain how just a few words from a patient had had her doing a strip act for him teen. She'd be lucky just to lose her job. "As for coming back here," Paul teen went teen on, "of course you will teen, if it's part of your normal duties teen. And you teen'll do videos everything teen you can to make sure it continues to be videos part of your duties, won't you?"
 "Good girl, Rhonda." Paul teen thought for a moment. "You know teen, it teen's hardly fair for teenteenteen me to get all the pleasure out of this arrangement. So here's what we're teen going to try, Rhonda. Whenever you hear my teen voice say, 'Good girl, Rhonda,' you'll feel an overpowering sexual pleasure teenteenteen, strong enough to make you come no matter what. And each time you feel the pleasure, it'll be stronger than teen it was the time before, until you reach teen whatever your personal limit is. Do you understand me, Rhonda?"
 "Good girl, Rhonda." The teen nurse toppled over, glassy-eyed, scrambling teenteenteen to tear off her clothing as teen her teen body spasmed teen uncontrollably.
 "We understand each other, then," Paul nude said.
 "Perfectly normal," Dr. Steiner said teen nude. "Good news. We're still teen going over the teen nude tests, but early indications teen are that we got the whole tumor. If you're lucky teen, you won't need more teen than a mild teen course of chemotherapy."
 Paul blanched. It hadn't worked. Was--whatever it was--gone? Or had it never been nude real at all? Had his puppeting of teen Nurse Rhonda been nothing more than an anesthetic-induced dream? He had to find out.
 He got his chance shortly teen thereafter, when another nurse came in teen.
 "Jasmine, I know teenteenteen you're probably upset with me teenteenteen, even teen though you don't show it," he addressed her. "Forget about it. Completely. Nothing unusual happened here, except that you had a teen little daydream about teen being a dancer. Nod your head if your mind nude accepts this as true."
 "Yes, Mr. Bennett," the nurse responded. She checked the room carefully, fluffed his teen pillows, and left, casting teen nude a last teen smile back at him. If she still teen had any teen memory teen of what he'd done teen, she teen showed teenteenteen no teen sign of it.
 There teen was another teenteenteen quote, from nineteenth-century Britain: "Power corrupts, and teen absolute power corrupts absolutely." His power wasn't absolute; his teenteenteen inability to control men, for teenteenteen one thing, limited teen nude it. But it was teen great enough to teen offer plenty of chances teen for corruption.
 He smiled to himself. Some nude of those chances he meant to take. The nude smile teen faded; only some teen nude of them. Some lines were not to be crossed. The smile returned. As teen long as teen he knew videos what those lines were, what was the harm in playing around? His smile teen broadened teenteenteen into a grin. Soon enough, he was ready to go home teen nude. Somewhat to the surprise of his doctor, he didn't go home alone. Nurses Rhonda Marks and Jasmine teen Thibodeaux went with him, having persuaded Administration to teenteenteen allow them to teenteenteen serve teenteenteen as health attendants for him during his convalescence teen. Their arguments to teen the male administrators had been quite strong, and very intimate. The teen chief nurse, a teenteenteen forbidding figure in her fifties, had tried to stand nude in the way until, at Paul's suggestion, the nurses had brought him to see her. Five minutes later teenteenteen, she'd agreed to the arrangement, "for as long teen as you videos wish, Mr. Bennett, sir."
 His immediate supervisor was a woman, Charlene Sands. Bennett had heard all the stories about how she'd teen slept her way to the top (or at least to middle management). He wasn't sure teen he believed teen them, but it was certainly possible. She had the looks for it, tanned skin, a teen "killer bod" only somewhat concealed by the teen tailored nude business attire she wore, glossy teen black hair, green eyes behind teen elegantly-framed glasses. She had the manipulative temperament for it teen, too.
 Suppressing the urge to ask her what she wanted to talk about--it didn't matter, after all, not now--he answered, "On my way, Ms. Sands." He teen got up and walked casually over to teen her office teen, opened the door and went in. Carefully, he shut the door behind him and sat down in the chair teen next to teen nude her desk teen nude.
 "You understand teenteenteen, Paul," she teen nude said, struggling teen for cool detachment, "this teen doesn't teen change anything. Whatever just . . . happened here videos, I nude'm still your boss. Don't think you've gotten some kind teenteenteen of leverage teen with nude me nude."
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