Then she stood, hooked her fingers into her waistband, and quickly pulled her underwear down her thighs, over her stockings, stepped out of the small piece of fabric and dropped it to one side. She sat firmly in her chair with her legs crossed but her hands on the armrest. She stared at me defiantly, but I knew it was largely a defensive response.
“And were you right?” I asked her, “About this being a nine?”
Melissa nodded but said nothing.
“And on the scale of one to ten… is ten an orgasm?” She nodded again. “And have you ever had an orgasm without being touched before.” She nodded again. I paused. “Is this common for you.” She thought for a second, and then nodded again. I noted it down and her breathing became more rapid.
“Now do you mind,” I asked her, “If I take your pulse?”
She shook her head: of all the things I’ve asked of her so far, this was quite a small request. I stood up and walked over to her and put my fingers on her delicate wrist and started to count on my watch. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her breasts rising and falling with each breath. After thirty seconds I had a good enough estimate and wrote it down.
“Ninety six,” I told Melissa.
“Is that high?”
I shrugged. “You’d usually be maybe sixty-something, or seventy if you’re not relaxed.” I smiled. “But there are extenuating circumstances, and ninety six is nothing to be worried about.”
She smiled weakly again, but I could see her mind is elsewhere.
“Now, I’m going to ask you a few more questions,” I told her, “And I’d like you to respond on a scale of one to five this time, okay?” Melissa nodded. “Okay. Again, this is about how much extra arousal you might feel.”
Her chest kept rising and falling and her pupils didn’t appear to be focusing on me.
“So, first. If someone came into the room.”
“Five,” she said instantly.
“If I unlocked the door.”
“If I told you there was a camera filming us now?”
“Five,” and her eyes darted around the room.
“Don’t worry, there isn’t one,” I reassured her. Her eyes closed in relief for a second.
“And if I photographed you now?” I continued.
“Four,” she said. At least the scale has some variation: not everything was a “five”.
“If I threw your clothes out of the window?”
“Five.” Another instant response, which she then corrected. “No, six.” I smiled to myself: I might have to adjust the scale of her responses later.