right away, shall we?”
Becca turned to look at her husband, who still seemed reluctant to enter. Funny, Dorcas thought, but he didn’t look like the sort of man who would have trouble consummating his marriage. On the contrary, he looked like the sort of man who would pounce on whatever female held his interest. He also seemed extremely interested in his wife, if the expression on his face when he looked at her was any indication.
He turned to Dorcas. “You’re not going to make us bark like dogs for your own amusement while we’re under, are you?” he asked.
She smiled. “Of course not.” She waited until he looked relieved before adding, “I’m going to make you flap your arms like a chicken. I find that much more entertaining.” Then she chuckled good-naturedly at his panicked expression. “I’m sorry. Couldn’t resist. Just a little hypnotherapist humor there.”
He said nothing, looking as if he wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not.
“It will be fine, Turner,” she said. “I run a professional, legitimate business. Hypnotherapy may not be understood by most people, but it is, without question, a viable treatment for many.” She offered him her most reassuring smile. “It may interest you to know that not all people are able to be hypnotized.”
“Really?” Becca asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of both curiosity and concern.
Dorcas nodded. “And of those who are able to be hypnotized, not all respond to hypnotherapy. Should that be the case with one or both of you, I can recommend another therapist who might be able to help you with your problem through more conventional methods.”
“We’ve already tried those,” Becca said. “This is kind of a last resort for us. If you can’t help us…”
She didn’t finish the statement, only looked forlorn at the prospect of what might lie ahead, should this session fail.
“Well, don’t you worry,” Dorcas said. “Just relax, and we’ll give it our best. Truly, I think you’ll be pleased by the results. Now, then, Turner, if you’ll take your seat next to Becca, we can get started.”
As Dorcas extended her hand toward the vacant chair, Turner pushed himself away from the door and strode with obvious reluctance toward it. After a moment’s hesitation, he took a seat.
“That’s fine,” Dorcas said, still smiling. “Now let’s get you two hypnotized.”
She began the session the way she always did, with some relaxation techniques that included deep breathing and mental visualization. Little by little, Dorcas took the Feders through the steps, until she was confident that both were in a state of deep hypnosis. Only then did she give them the posthypnotic suggestions that they wouldn’t be able to remember consciously once they were brought back, but which they would hopefully act upon when confronted by the proper stimulus.
She’d given much thought to the stimulus in this case, thinking it would be best if she gave the Feders a word to respond to. But it had to be a word they would be most likely to use or hear only in the privacy of their own home. She didn’t want the two of them to be overcome with passionate desire for each other in a public place. Ultimately, she had decided on the word underwear, thinking it was one that wasn’t used too often, and one they would most likely only say when they were at home together. Nevertheless, it was common enough that it would come up eventually.
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