"How are we doing, Naz?"

"We are doing just fine. Though we do wonder why the plural form is used when asking that question."

The doctor lowered her head and raised her eyes, in order to look over her reading glasses. She pursed her lips. Then, she cocked her head to one side. And then, she lowered her gaze back down to the notepad she held in her lap. She scribbled a few quick notes in it before looking back up at Naz.

For her part, Naz found the doctor to be ridiculously attractive, far more so than a professional person should be in their working environment. She found the doctor's attractiveness all the more striking because it overcame her tight, schoolmarm bun and unflattering, doctorish clothes, which included a baggy blazer, ankle-length trousers, and laced support shoes.

"I'm glad you're doing fine. Is there anything you'd like to talk about first?"

"Not particularly. Though I would like to avoid the topic of how gorgeous I find you to be."

"We don't avoid things here, though, do we?"

"Despite my best efforts, no, we don't seem to. Not one bit."

"So, tell me about it."

Naz sighed mournfully.

"I think you're beautiful. And sexy. If you took off your glasses and let down your hair, I don't think I could contain myself. As it is, I'm staring at you like a schoolgirl crushing on her teacher. And don't get me started on if I saw you out of those clothes. You nude would assuredly be the end of me. You in even a remotely femine outfit would probably do me in, as well."

The doctor scribbled away during the rant. Then, when Naz stopped speaking, she looked up.

"What else?"

"What else about how I'm aching for you, or about another topic?"

"Whatever you feel the need to say."

"Unfortunately, I feel the need to say every last thought in my head. I literally can't stand how much I want you and how I can't do anything about it. If I could, I would leap up, tackle you, and after ripping off your blouse--"

"You may continue without descending into pornography."

"Right. Will do. Of course I won't leap up. I won't get out of this chair."

"No, you certainly won't."

"But if I could, I would totally give in to my urges."

"I see. Go on."

"The only reason not being able to do that doesn't completely frustrate me is because..."

"Yes? Tell me why."

"I like not being able to get up. I like that you won't let me."

"What do you like about that?"

"It turns me on."

"What specifically about it turns you on?"

"The whole situation I'm in. All of it."

"Tell me. Leave nothing out. But, as before, you may exclude any pornographic references."

"Right. Will do. I like being forced to sit here, while you are free to move around as much as you want. I like having to tell you everything, even though it embarrasses me to share my innermost secrets. I like being exposed, in complete contrast to how covered up you are. All of those things arouse me. Excite me. Drive me crazy. I know I'm in one of the worst possible situations imaginable, but I wouldn't trade where I am or what I have to do for anything in the world."

The doctor scribbled, nodding as she did. Then, when she was done, she raised her head. She took a long, surmising look at Naz.

This current object of the doctor's study had black hair, mocha skin, pretty features, and a lithe figure. She sat upright in a plushly cushioned chair that supported her arms and legs on contoured rests. She wore a plain garment that was more substantial than a hospital gown, but could only very generously be called a robe. Her feet were bare, and her soles faced the doctor.

As she sat there under the doctor's scrutiny, Naz moved her feet constantly. She flexed them, scrunched them, and moved them side to side and up and down. She didn't move any other part of her body, though. There were scant few parts of it that she could move.

Numerous mesh bands stretched across Naz in her seat. They covered her shoulders, arms, chest, stomach, thighs, and shins. Anchored to the chair and pulled taut as they were, they kept her decidedly immobilized.

"That is all very good, Naz. Now, tell me, how would you feel if I released you?"

"I'd feel relieved. But also sad."

"And if I gave you other clothes to wear, including shoes?"

"The same. Relieved, but sad."

"Why sad?"

"It would mean that this is over. I don't want it to end."

"And do you know what 'this' is?"

"Yes, of course. Well, that is, I think so. Or, no, maybe not. Actually, no, I really don't. Will you tell me?"

"I'm here to ask the questions, not answer them."

"Please, tell me."

"If I do, it won't help."

"Why not?"

The doctor eyed Naz, then her notes, then Naz again.

"I suppose it's as good a test as any. All right, Naz, I'll tell you."

"Thank you!"

"I am conducting the final stage of a post-process interrogation. The goal is to see how thorough the process was and how well you responded to it."

Naz wrinkled her nose. She understood the words, but not their context.

"What process?"

"Brainwashing. You have been brainwashed by means of an intense regimen of hypnotic conditioning, in conjunction with other, proprietary methods."

"I've been what by an intense regimen of what?"

"Brainwashed. By hypnotic conditioning and other methods that must remain unrevealed."

"But you're not revealing anything. You keep leaving out words and phrases. You're like a broadcast interrupted by static or a document that's been redacted."

The doctor nodded, then wrote on her notepad. After a few seconds, she looked up.

"As I said, telling you won't help you understand. But, it does prove the effectiveness of the process."

"What process?"

"You may forget about the process and about your curiosity."

"Right. Will do. I'm sorry, but what were we discussing?"

"Our discussion is concluded. It's time to release you. Don't feel sad. You will have the opportunity to feel this way again soon, when you return to us. If you perform your tasks well between now and then, you may even be given a reward."

"A reward?"

"Yes, you may be allowed to have your desires sated, rather than to leave them unfulfilled, as they are now. Let that motivate you to do your best and return to us as quickly as you can."

"Oh, yes. Absolutely. I will do my best."

"Yes, I do believe you will."

The doctor made a few final notes. Then, she stood up and walked over to Naz. She leaned over and whispered in the bound, barefoot woman's ear. Naz blushed, curled her toes, and kicked furiously with her feet.

"Oh, my god! Oh, please! Please, god, yes! Yes, I will! I can't wait! I'll do whatever it takes! Yes!"

"See that you do. And see you back here soon."

The doctor exited the room. A moment later, the mesh bands began unsnapping and then retracting back into their housings within the chair. Naz then found herself unrestrained and able to move freely.

As she had predicted, she felt immediately relieved and soon thereafter sad. She climbed out of the chair. She took a deep breath. Then, she too left the room.

The entire ordeal quickly faded from her memory. All that remained was a distinct knowledge of important work that she must do, and the promise of an incredibly enticing reward when she accomplished it.