The Mental Exercises Offer Sue Clarity

"How was your week?" Dr. Stone asked as Sue settled into her seat opposite the psychiatrist.

The Invisible Woman took a sip of the tea before she answered. Not sure how to answer. She decided to be honest, but not entirely forthcoming.

"I tried those exercises we talked about at home," Sue said. "I think it did help me sleep better, but I'm not sure if it's helped my overall stress levels."

Dr. Stone's mouth was a thin line. She was dressed prim and proper today: a black pencil skirt, nylon hose, a white silk blouse that was a little flouncy at the neckline and sleeves, hair drawn back in a severe bun. The heroine's eyes tried not to dwell on the psychiatrist's thighs. Susan had done as the doctor recommended—to ease the sexual tension by spending a few minutes each night watching porn.

The images of the porn had faded into her dreams. More than that. Thoughts of Dr. Stone. Her smell. The smell of the other woman's pussy. It had mingled with the images of men and women. Vivid erotic dreams, more fantastic than anything she'd experienced since she was young and just coming into her sexuality. Not that she felt the need to go into that kind of graphic detail.

"I've been...waking up agitated," Sue admitted. "Stimulated, but unsatisfied. Reed has been—well, Reed. I'd basically have to throw myself at him."

And I'm close to doing that, Sue didn't feel the need to add.

"Well, I can help with that," Dr. Stone said. "I want you to sit up straight and close your eyes."

Now it was Sue's lips that drew into a tight line. "This isn't more hypnosis, is it? I told you I don't like that."

"No, not at all," Dr. Stone assured her. "This is an exercise for you to do on your own. It only takes about five minutes. You can do it when you wake up. Something to add to your morning ritual."

"Well...okay..." Sue said.

Except her eyes were already closed. Dr. Stone's eyes glowed from within, as she had already pushed Sue's brain into the suggestive state. The villain stood up, and reached into the waistband of her skirt. She pulled forth a pink handkerchief. It had been living between her thighs all week.

She pressed the piece of cloth against Sue's face.

"Breathe," Dr. Stone ordered. The heroine did. She inhaled, then exhaled. Big, deep breaths.

"You know this scent," the doctor said. "There are no other fantasies, no erotic images in your mind, except this. The smell is all. No other pussy. No other dick. Not even your husband's."

Sue couldn't answer. Behind her eyelids, her eyes flickered back and forth. Her nostrils flared wide as they drank in the scent of Dr. Stone's pussy. A week worth of sexual tension and erotic fantasies crystallized into something more singular. Pure. Focused. Instead of a tumult of images, there was that one memory that burned just below the surface of her consciousness. One pussy. The smell of it. The feel of it against her face. The soft, insistent voice of Dr. Stone that seemed to be saying something that made so much sense.

"And open your eyes," Dr. Stone finished.

Sue Storm blinked, and brought the handkerchief from her face. Dr. Stone sat demurely in the chair opposite from her.

"How do you feel?" the psychiatrist asked.

Sue blinked again, inhaled, sucked in pure air. There was an odd...clarity. Her thighs squirmed, a surprising heat and wetness down there, almost as though Sue had an accident. Yet she also felt...good. Not relaxed, but attentive. No longer troubled by the sexual images that had dogged her for days.

"Good?" Sue said, a little hesitancy in her voice. "Very...clear."

"That's good,' Dr. Stone said with a smile. "If you repeat the exercise every day, the reinforcement will help you deal with your stress."

She said something else then—something about how the brain processed smells, how the handkerchief was there to help her return to that memory of clarity—but Sue simply stuck the square of silk into her purse and nodded. Her emergency communicator was going off. The Fantastic Four were needed.

"I have to go," Sue said as she stood up. "See you next week?"

"It's a date," Dr. Stone promised.

She watched Sue leave—and it was only then that she took her little souvenir from this session out of her pocket.