Treatment – Chapter 1

You come into my office once a week always in your raggedy jeans with some designer t-shirt; hair spiked, thick black glasses. You tell me about your job, your friends, your drinking, your sex life. I’m helping you become more assertive at work, but what I really want to do is reduce you to a crying mess on the floor. I want to see your strong, toned body curled up, hiding your vital organs. I want to see you look me in the eyes with the unmistakable expression of pleading – pleading for me to stop, pleading for me to continue, simultaneously.

Today I decide to ooze sensuality. I wear a button-down top, unbuttoned one more button than usual, a fitted pencil skirt, and heels. I want to make your mind wander as you pour your heart out to me. I want you to be unable to stop thoughts of my curves – my hips, my breasts, my ass – popping into your mind. I want to make you yearn. And I will. Oh how I will.

I tell you to discuss a time when you felt most vulnerable, most naked, most assailable. You share an anecdote from your childhood. You were 12-years-old at sleep-away camp. You’d been having a lot of fun and didn’t miss your parents at all. You were feeling independent and free. One night though, your stomach was aching, so you went down to the communal toilets. It was nearly bedtime, so there was a line to get in to use the toilet and showers. You really needed to go. Finally, you were at the front of the line, just in front of the one stall. But you couldn’t hold it anymore. You shat your pants right there at the front of the line, so close to avoiding disaster. You felt like everyone was looking at you. The boy behind you said, “Eugh, what’s that smell?” Then he looked down and saw the brown stain on your pants. You were mortified, and shuffled into the stall when it was finally your turn. You tried to clean yourself up as tears ran down your cheeks. You needed to shower but didn’t have any towel or clothes to change into.

You went into the shower anyways – scrubbed yourself down and rinsed out your pants. You had to wear them back to your cabin. They were still wet and it made you cold in the nighttime mountain air. As you walked back you felt more susceptible to the elements. Behind every corner it seemed like a wolf was waiting, ready to attack. You were shivering and crying all the way back to your cabin. You tried to put on a brave face when you got there, but you knew all of your bunk-mates could tell. You took your clothes off as quickly as you could and slipped on some clean boxers. You wrapped yourself in your sleeping bag, bringing it up over your face to hide, to protect yourself from the questions about why your clothes were wet and why you were late. The lights went out and you got as much sleep as you could, which wasn’t much.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. It’s good to be able to access a time of vulnerability. It allows one to delve deeper into the possibilities of human experience”.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever wanted someone to know you completely? Wanted them to get under your skin and take over? Wanted to be completely susceptible to their every instruction?”

“Well…I. I’ve felt….I guess I kind of feel that way with you. I’ve never told anyone that story before. But I wanted you to have it. I wanted you to see that side of me.”

“The frightened, mortified little boy?”

“Yes. And the man with holes in his armor. I want to show you where the holes are and allow you to pierce them if you wish”.

“I’d like you to take part in an experiment of mine. Would you be willing to participate?”

“Of course.”

“First, I want you to tell me that story once more.”

As you go through the narrative once again, reliving each emotion, one by one with your eyes closed, picturing yourself once again as a little boy, you are softly crying on my couch. At the end of the tale, in a low, smooth tone I tell you that you’re going to feel this way whenever I say the word “wolf”.

“From this moment on, you’re going to do whatever I say. Whenever I issue you an instruction, you are going to say, ‘yes, Doctor’ and obey immediately. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Doctor”.

“Before I can take you on as a participant in my experiment, I’ll need to inspect you. Take off your clothes”.

As you unbutton your pants and slide them off I ask you when you had your first wet dream.

“Eleven Doctor”, your reply.

As your shirt slides over your hairy chest and pierced nipples I ask you when you started masturbating.

“At the same age Doctor”.

As you slide your boxers down revealing a perfectly formed cock with a pierced frenum I ask you how old you were when you first had sex.

“Oral sex at fourteen, penetrative sex at sixteen, Doctor”.

I tell you to put your hands behind your head and open your legs. From my chair I peruse your body with my eyes, taking in each bend, curve, muscle, fat, bone. I drink you in and ask you how often you masturbate.

“About once a day Doctor, but two or three times when I’m feeling particularly horny”.

“I’m going to test your gag reflex”

I stand up and walk over to you. I pull a latex glove out of my pocket and put it on.

“Open up”.

“Yes Doctor”.

I slip my fingers into  your mouth, run them across your tongue, where I find your tongue ring, and ease them into your throat. You start gagging far too easily.

“We’ll have to work on that”.

“Yes Doctor”.

“Turn around and bend over. I need to see how receptive your ass is to being probed. Put your hands on the couch and stick your ass up in the air”.

I put lube onto my glove and then slip one finger into your ass. It goes in smoothly. I slip another in, and then a third.

“Have you ever had anything inserted into your ass before?”

“No, Doctor”.

“In that case, you’re taking this very well”.

“Thank you, Doctor”.

I massage your prostate, making you moan.

“You like that, don’t you?”

“Yes, Doctor”.

I take my fingers out of your ass, wipe off the lube and tell you to sit down. You comply.

“Now I need to see how much your urethra can take”.

I put on another glove and stroke your semi-erect cock until it’s standing tall and firm. I put silicone lube onto the sound and the tip of your penis and slide it inside of you. It goes in easily, slipping into you until it stops on its own. I measure the tip to see how much you have taken in.

“Eight inches. Impressive”.

“Thank you Doctor. I’m glad it pleases you”.

I pull the sound out an insert another, larger one. I ask you what you thought of the last time you masturbated.

“To be honest, I thought about you climbing onto this couch on top of me, ripping off my clothes and riding my cock until we both came”.

I jot down my findings and insert an even larger sound into your smallest opening. You whimper a little.

“Is it supposed to burn?”

“It’s not unusual, but that tells us that this is as far as we should go for today. Now stroke your penis until you come. I need to observe your arousal pattern and orgasmic response”.

“Yes Doctor”.

I sit down in my chair and watch you. I can feel my cunt becoming engorged as you jack off in front of me, looking me in the eyes. I take note of your breathing pattern, the flush of your skin, and your heartbeat making itself evident in your neck. I want to devour you, but I restrain myself. This is only the first phase of testing. A baseline must be established. Finally I hear you begin to moan. Your guttural expression of pleasure makes my body ache for you. I watch as you squirt your ejaculate all over yourself, even getting a little on your chin.

“That will be all for today. However, you have an assignment. You will figure out how many times you can ejaculate in one day. Note that this is not a question of how many times you enjoy coming in one day. You will continue to masturbate even after it starts to hurt. Is that understood?”

“Yes, doctor”.

“Good. You may clean yourself up and leave. I’ll see you next week”.

Posted on March 25, 2012, in Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. I thoroughly enjoyed reading that – and I look forward to more!

    xx Dee

  2. Thanks! More will be coming. I find that I have a hard time fantasizing clearly without writing things down. Plus I was trying to figure out how to explain to Edward my fantasy of being a psychiatrist taking advantage of a patient, and this seemed the easiest way!

  3. I know comment like this don’t actually help the writing process, but I am anxiously awaiting more of this story, it’s so very good!

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