Hypno Clinic Catastrophe: Part Two
- Hamlin
- May 6
- 12 min read
The click of stilettos echoed through the hallway like a series of shrill proclamations, heralding Dr. Clara Bennett’s arrival with manic glee. Her entrance was the pop of a champagne cork, a peal of ditsy laughter that filled the sterile confines of Dr. Mark Ellison’s therapy room. Her blouse was a breath away from off her shoulders, unbuttoned to her belly, cleavage smiling like a naughty secret. Her skirt had forgotten its purpose, hiking up to showcase newly curvaceous thighs, tight and pink. She paused in the doorway, silhouette brazen against the wall of diplomas and mahogany shelves.
