That evening, Matt paced around his apartment nervously. Carmelita brushed the tigress's cheek upwards and pried her mantilla back, as her long, raven hair fell free. While he began with the de-hypnotizing process, the rule-breaking smoker among the audience had kept his attention fixated on the stage, and was completely unaware as his lit cigarette's smoke began to float up, getting closer to the fire sprinklers above. Surely, that would have been a picture the audience would love to own. Constable Neyla, although seeming like an ambitious and impulsive white tigress, wasn't so bad, actually. Her eyelids were halfway closed.
She was sitting on her bed, crying.
He knew he would not have long to wait—she and her partner began at the same time each night. They exchanged awkward glances. Jackie had said that she would call Belinda on the phone, give her a post-hypnotic suggestion, and tell her to meet him at the coffee shop. Finally, the two hypnotically horny volunteers met each other in the eyes, both their smiles grew wide before they tackled and wrapped their arms around each other. Jackie seemed pleased by her reaction.