"Ok Sandra," I say. "You're starting to feel relaxed. You're slowly falling deep into your subconscious...you're going deeper...and deeper. You're arm... are becoming relaxed...now your body follows. Keep going deeper...went I count to three you'll be under. 1...2...3!"Sandra's chin fell to her chest and I check her pulse. She's under my control. To test my theory, I say, "Sandra? Can you hear me?"She limply nods."Raise your head."She did it."Cluck like a hen."She did that too! The most beautiful. Smiling, he said, "Hi! I'm Pete Stewart. You must be Cynthia Martin, my wife's new—" —slave, Mr. Stewart," she finished with a smile. "I'm your wife's bond slave." Suddenly, she appeared flustered. Cindy had been prepared to take Pete's hat and coat but realized he didn't have one.He closed the door and looked at her closely. "Turn around, please?" he asked. She did as she was told. Pete let out a low whistle as he saw the cuts scoring her back and buttocks. "What happened to you, Cynthia?"She. I can no longer discern my physical boundaries. I walk with tentative steps, taking ten paces into the super-electrified field of light. I'm dissipating, and soon I will be gone, leaving behind not even a memory.We move forward, and the luminescence begins to dissipate, revealing a dimly lit tunnel. I turn and look for my companions and see them emerging from the light that still hums and swirls. They nod, indicate that I am to continue.But it so hard for me. Every movement I make drains what. When the room quieted, "Most of you already know, but for the ones who don't, Frank, Margaret, Tina, Bill, Kathy and Jill will be back from the island this morning. Margaret called me late yesterday from their hotel suite in Los Angeles. She said they were anxious to get home and would leave really early for the last leg of their trip back. I would appreciate it if all of those of us who will be here this morning could meet the helicopter to welcome their arrival. I think that would be a nice.