You lay back down; again, you are quickly able to put Dana to sleep, and as you pay closer attention, you see it is almost like hypnosis. The world disappears, but her mind comes alive to you.
Watching her mind is like reading a book, though it is a much livelier experience: If doing stuff is like a richer form of movie-watching, paying attention to her thoughts is like a richer form of book-reading. By opening yourself up, you get to feel her thoughts and emotions flow through her.
The greatest flow is one of horror: Though asleep, she is acting as she would if you had pulled out of her without changing her memories. She is changing out of the clothes you put her in and is going to go downstairs to tell her parents about the afternoon. But because her thoughts must flow through your own mind, you find you are able to control them. So you stop her from thinking about the afternoon; you replace those thoughts and memories with new ones; and quickly you have her convinced that she spent the day doing what she had been planning to do. And so she starts getting ready for a girls' night out with some friends.
You can't see or feel anything, but you follow what happens next with great interest. The prep work, the phone calls, the argument with her mom about what time to be back, the giddy hope that one really cute waiter will be on duty. With her friends there is talk and gossip and scoping out some of the boys—no waiter, though. Then back home.
Upstairs, as she gets ready for bed, you pull her out of the hypnotic state. The immediate access to her thoughts vanishes, but you also feel a much firmer grip on her mind, and it is much easier to behave like her. You even go into Sarah's room and pick a fight, just for the pleasure of acting like Dana, and knowing that you're able to do a perfect imitation of her. Apparently, letting your host sleep and run on this "autopilot" gives you a much firmer and more natural grip on them.
You then go to bed, again putting Dana to sleep. Now, though, her thoughts turn into dreams and the other detritus of sleep. You yourself feel nothing like exhaustion, though. You have a fine time, though, watching her dreams, and you even fiddle with a few, giving her a fun, hot, nasty, erotic one about that waiter. But time does seem to pass slowly.
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