 He noticed he was cumfiesta attached cumfiesta alyssa to cumfiesta an IV drip and several monitors cumfiesta. The drip cumfiesta alyssa, he realized foggily, must account for why he felt so detached, and pictures why his throat cumfiesta only burned a little instead of hurting like hell. He looked cumfiesta up at the cumfiesta tiled cumfiesta ceiling; it seemed to be shifting colors in a herringbone pattern, like a television picture with bad reception. The colors cumfiesta were fascinating. The colors were. The colors. . . .
 He must have still been a pictures little woozy, because, eyes fixing on her impressive chest, he blurted, "Hey babe, nice rack. How's about peeling off that starched shirt and giving me a good look?" The moment pictures the words were cumfiesta out of his cumfiesta mouth, he cringed. Oh cumfiesta alyssa my God, he thought, did I say that cumfiesta out cumfiesta loud cumfiesta?
 "Rhonda, Mr. Bennett. My name is Rhonda Marks cumfiesta." The girl's voice sounded perfectly normal, calm and relaxed as she cumfiesta posed with her cumfiesta alyssa bra cumfiesta in his face. She cumfiesta seemed not to realize pictures there cumfiesta was cumfiesta anything unusual going cumfiesta on.
 "Rhonda, stand up," he pictures said. She obeyed, repeating, "Yes, Mr cumfiesta. Bennett." He could see cumfiesta her relax once she was no longer cumfiesta leaning over so awkwardly. "Rhonda, get dressed," he continued. She cumfiesta picked cumfiesta up her bra and blouse and put them on calmly cumfiesta. "Rhonda," he asked curiously, "how cumfiesta do you feel about what cumfiesta just happened?"
 Rhonda shuddered, picturing herself trying to explain how just cumfiesta a few words from a patient had had her doing a strip act for him. She'd be lucky just to lose cumfiesta her job. "As for coming back here cumfiesta," Paul went cumfiesta on, "of cumfiesta alyssa course cumfiesta you will cumfiesta, if alyssa it's part of your normal duties. And cumfiesta you'll do cumfiesta everything you can to make cumfiesta sure it cumfiesta alyssa continues to cumfiesta be part of your duties, won't you?"
 "Yes, master," came the reply. Then, a flicker of defiance: "You sick cumfiesta jerk, you cumfiesta'll never cumfiesta get away with cumfiesta--"
 "Good girl, Rhonda."
 "Good girl, Rhonda." The nurse toppled over, glassy-eyed, scrambling to cumfiesta tear off her clothing as her body spasmed uncontrollably.
 "Good," Paul responded, restraining pictures the urge to cumfiesta use Rhonda's sexual trigger cumfiesta again cumfiesta. Time enough for that later. "Now, Rhonda, it's time for cumfiesta you to go about your duties. You can go."
 "Shh," Paul said cumfiesta. "Not another word." Instantly, Jasmine fell silent, looking scared.
 Paul felt sorry for her. "Forget your worries," he suggested. "Imagine you cumfiesta're cumfiesta a dancer alyssa. Keep your arms raised, and stand on tiptoe--that's cumfiesta right--and turn, slowly, slowly. Imagine you're on stage, under a spotlight, and cumfiesta a big audience is watching you, seeing how graceful you cumfiesta are. Applauding. Keep turning, slowly, slowly cumfiesta, for the cumfiesta audience."
 Jasmine obeyed, relaxing as her mind accepted the fantasy and forgot the reality. It cumfiesta was so much easier to be a dancer cumfiesta alyssa, performing for an audience, than a frightened girl who somehow cumfiesta had cumfiesta to obey a strange man.
 Jasmine was cumfiesta still turning, turning on tiptoe, hands clasped over her head. Her eyes were closed now, her lips slightly parted. Clearly, she was enjoying herself in the fantasy he'd built for her cumfiesta. It almost seemed a shame to end it, but cumfiesta alyssa he'd cumfiesta learned enough.
 "Jasmine," he alyssa addressed her, "it's time to come back cumfiesta alyssa to cumfiesta reality. You had fun cumfiesta alyssa pretending to be cumfiesta a dancer, but you have patients cumfiesta who need you."
 Jasmine cumfiesta nodded her head.
 Ms. Sands picked cumfiesta a folder off her desk and waved cumfiesta it at cumfiesta him. "This is a cancellation request from Mrs. Sylvia Cortez. A half cumfiesta-million-dollar account. She says you screwed up by cumfiesta insuring only her and not her husband as well. And cumfiesta alyssa while cumfiesta you were cumfiesta out on your little vacation"--Paul flushed angrily cumfiesta, but said nothing--"he died. And under the policy you got her to buy, she cumfiesta gets zip.
 Paul cumfiesta's heart sank. Could he really have--? Yes, he decided. He had already been sick when he'd landed the Cortez cumfiesta account. He cumfiesta remembered the day cumfiesta he and Mrs. Cortez had signed the papers; his throat had hurt so much, all he cumfiesta'd wanted was to get out of there. Yes, he could have made a mistake.
 "You understand, Paul," she said, struggling for cool cumfiesta detachment, "this doesn't change anything. Whatever just . . . happened here, I'm still your boss. Don't think you've gotten cumfiesta some cumfiesta kind of leverage with me."
 And pictures this was just the beginning.
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