Hypnothe-Rapist: Starr Scores Ch. 02

"About a week and a half," said Kevin, lying on his side, propping his head up with his arm and elbow. "I tried seeing a doctor about it, didn't really help, so, thought I'd try you."

"Was this an MD, or a therapist?" she asked.

"Oh, an MD. Family practitioner."

She nodded. "And how did you first find out?"

"Well...I met this woman, that week and a half ago, and we went out together, and things were going really great, and before I knew it, she was taking me to her place, one thing led to another, and..." he gestured with his hands, trying to find the words he wanted. "...That's when something, eh...didn't happen."

Angela nodded. "I see," she said, lowering her voice.

Kevin's tone turned sour and caustic. "And, she got a nice little giggle out of it, and, well, suffice it to say, haven't seen her, or my hard-on, since."

Angela was visibly wounded by this news. "Oh, Kevin, I am so sorry that happened to you," she commiserated. "Unfortunately, not too many women are really terrific at handling this kind of thing."

She paused a second. Kevin's facial expression softened as he absorbed her heartfelt sympathy. He soaked it up like a sponge. He could use as much of it as she was willing to give him.

"So then, you're not seeing anyone at the moment?" she asked, returning to the questions.

"Nope."

"Have you been on a lot of dates before you went out with this woman?"

He shook his head. "Not really, gotta say...I've never been too lucky in that area. Always seemed to get turned down. Got pretty friggin' discouraging after a while."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Well, have you ever had a steady girlfriend? Or, well, I know 25's a little young, but, never been married?"

He looked up at her. "See previous answer," he said with a smirk.

Before she asked the next question, he looked up and asked her, "Just out of curiosity, how old are you?"

Angela looked back up at him, arching her eyebrows. "Well, we're not really here to learn about me, but as it turns out, I'm 36."

"Geez, really?" said Kevin, truly surprised. "I mean, I was thinking you were...29, maybe 30, max."

"Aw," smiled Angela, charmed herself, "That's very sweet of you! Well, I'm sure it helps that I essentially work with sleep for a living." She returned to the question form. "Do you have any health issues, like diseases or allergies?"

"Well...I am anxious a hell of a lot of the time, but I don't know if it's a...medical condition, or official diagnosis or whatever."

"Okay. Well, if that's all, I think we can safely rule out things like...STDs then, right?" said Angela.

"Uh, yeah," Kevin semi-sarcastically agreed.

"Good. Have you taken any kind of medications for anything?"

"Mmm, don't think so, nope."

"All righty-roo then...how's your appetite? What does your diet consist of?"

"Well, pretty normal. Actually, when it comes to food, I have a different palate and tastes from most other 25-year-olds. Tell you the truth, I like rich, exotic stuff, like fois gras and brie cheese and eggs Benedict, that kind of thing. Parents turned me on to it."

She looked up. "Oh, well, that could be part of your problem right there, Kevin. I mean, that kind of stuff's loaded with cholesterol. If that's gumming up your bloodstream, it'd be difficult to sufficiently circulate the blood to your penis to make it erect."

He thought about it a second. "Well, I don't eat it all the time, but...yeah, may be, come to think of it."

"Okay, good, so we may be a step further along already," she smiled. "Do you drink a lot of liquids?"

"Well, yeah, I like lots of different drinks."

"Alcohol?"

"Yeah, sometimes, yeah."

"Would you say you do a disproportionate amount of drinking in relation to the amount of food you eat?"

A bit confused, he said, "I don't think so."

"Okay," Angela said, "Because that's another hindrance. If a man continues drinking liquid beverages, without soaking them up with an even amount of solid food, that increases the frequency of urination and also starts to wear out his member and makes it har—uh, difficult, to perform." Back to the questions. "Now, how much sleep did you get last night?"

"Oh, boy, probably something like five hours."

"Oh, goodness," replied Angela. "Is that how much you've been sleeping every night lately?"

"Actually, no, usually it's been pretty good. Last night was just kind of an...off night. I was super busy with this thing at work, then I had some homework I had to get done."

"Oh, wow, you're juggling work and school at the same time?"

"Well, yeah, I've gotta work to go to college, and I've gotta go to college to eventually...well, get a better job..." he sighed.

"Did...that have something to do with the time of your arrival here today?" Angela asked cautiously.

"Hell yeah it did. I mean, my boss was riding me about the...y'know, thing I was mentioning, and I still had to stop by the campus to drop off this assignment I'd had an extension on and just barely got done in time."

"Well, gosh, Kevin, that can be very stressful," Angela told him. "And with all that going on, that might have a hand in it too. A high stress level can definitely contribute to problems like ED. Okay, so. We've come up with a few possible culprits here..." She paused. "Do you have to be anywhere or do anything else after this?"

"No, I'm free the rest of tonight," Kevin said.

"Oh, good," she said. "So, since your date last week, have you verified that you do in fact still have ED right now?"

He paused, thinking the question through. "Like...how do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, I am assuming from the information that you haven't had a climax or ejaculation since then. But between that time and now, have you achieved a sustained erection, or attempted to masturbate at all?"

Kevin turned a little red at the question.

"I'm just asking, Kevin," said Angela innocuously. "If you don't want to answer, that's absolutely fine."

"No, it's okay," he said. "I mean, I guess...yeah, for a couple days after that I tried to...well, jerk off, but it didn't work, so I stopped trying." He closed his eyes, taking a breath. "I mean, it feels like my dic—" He stopped. "Sorry," he said, "I probably shouldn't say it that way, should I?"

"No, no, that's fine, Kevin," said Angela. "You can phrase it that way. You can say jerk off your dick. Or however you want to put it. Pick whichever terms or words or euphemisms work best to express yourself. Trust me, it's not as if I've never heard them before. Once again, you can tell me absolutely anything you want. That's what I'm here for. There is no such thing as T.M.I. with me."

"Well," he said, clearing his throat, "It feels like it just...died." He shook his head. "I mean, I can number one, y'know, but that's it."

"Have you thought about giving Viagra or Cialis a shot?"

"Briefly," he said. "But I'd heard things about that stuff, so I went online to read about them, and all these horror stories started popping up about how long they last, and end up being so painful, so...thought I'd look into my other options."

"Okay," said Angela. She took a moment, then continued, "So, then, this might seem a little random, but let me ask you if I may: what do you like in a girl? What turns you on?"

He thought. "That's a good question," he said after a moment. "Hmm...well...I really like a girl who's intelligent..."

Angela smiled and nodded, scribbling on her pad.

"Someone who can speak her mind," Kevin went on, "Genuinely good-hearted, good sense of humor...oh, pretty eyes, that helps. I like eyes—and legs, those are good too. Nice figure, of course, that never hurts. Oh, and you know what? Don't ask me why, but I've always had this huge inexplicable attraction to redheads. Something about a girl with red hair just...just...drives me wild."

Angela's smile altered by half a degree. Oh, she thought, brushing a wisp of her chestnut hair behind her ear. Hm.

"Really?" she asked. "Just how turned on do you become when you see a girl with red hair?"

"Well, less than now, obviously," he admitted sadly, looking at his lower region.

"Enough to give you an erection?" she asked. "I mean, clearly, before..."

"Oh, yeah," he said matter-of-factly. "And then more than that."

"Good enough." She put the pad and pen down, took off her glasses and said, "Right, that's it for the interrogation." Cue the smile. "Now before we actually do this, I need a concrete affirmative answer from you, Kevin. I will not do this if my patients are not absolutely certain of it. So, do you at this time wish to be hypnotized?"

Kevin nodded. "Yeah. I do. Let's go for it."

"Excellent!" said Angela. As she reached down to unplug the phone, something clicked in her mind. She stopped going for the phone cord in mid-reach. "Kevin," she started, slowly turning back in his direction, "Just one more thing real quick: when you went out with this woman last week...did...she happen to have red hair?"

"Actually, yeah, she did," said Kevin.

"Really?" asked Angela. "Okay, one more more thing real quick: had you ever been out with any redheaded girls before her?"

"No, no, she was the first one," he answered. "How'd you know?"

Angela tilted her head with a shrug. "Wild guess." The phone was unplugged. "All right, Kevin, hop up real quick so I can pull out the bed, please, and we'll get you all set."

***

A couple of minutes later, the office was shut and locked. The lights were out. Being an early February evening, the sun had already gone down, rendering the room almost pitch-black. The only sources of any light were that of the hallway creeping under the door, and the blinking LCD lights of Angela's desk clock. Still turned away from them, it read 4:49. The CD player was on at a moderately low volume, playing a disc of light instrumental pieces and ballads, beginning with an adagio version of Brahms' Lullaby. Kevin was lying in the bed, wearing the slumber mask Angela'd given him—which was less necessary in the wintertime with the sooner-setting sun, but still part of Angela's essentials in her process—and resting with a small array of pillows behind his head and a light comforter over the lower half of his body. Angela was kneeling beside him, stethoscope at the ready.

Right about this time, Angela was secretly thanking God that Kevin didn't know what was going through her mind. She found Kevin's problem actually confounding her. She mentally tried to go back through her patients' maladies. Easily the most popular issue patients of Angela's dealt with was smoking. Then there were problems like drinking, overeating, depression, suicidal tendencies, infidelity and thoughts thereof, bad temperaments, and other less harmful yet bad habits such as nail-biting and excessive verbosity. But...unbelievable as it seemed...not once...not even one single time, in five years of operation, had she treated a gentleman for impotence.

The truth was, she was apprehensive. When she started this practice, she would tell herself on and off that one day she would have to face an ED problem. She was just never exactly ready for it to actually happen. A small, doubtful part of her thought this might be one rare occasion on which she could not successfully perform her duty. But still, she had a good feeling about this. The clue Kevin gave her about the redheaded woman was leading her to a conclusion. So she began as usual.

"Are you ready, Kevin?" she whispered soothingly.

He nodded slowly with a low, "Yep."

"Very well. We're now going to begin our journey carrying you off to Dreamland. You're weightlessly floating in the metaphysical arms of an intangible, angelic entity. So let yourself loosen out...that's it, unflex your muscles, relax every part of your body, just lie back...imagine you're floating through thin air."

She heard Kevin's voice. "Hey, Doc, you're pretty good at this," he said, sounding impressed.

Angela couldn't help but silently giggle to herself for half a second, but she replied, "Shhh...I know, Kevin, I know. It's what I do. But shhh, don't say anything now, just keep yourself as loosey-goosey as you can and listen to my voice. Now you're going to feel me touch you, so don't be alarmed at all. I'm going to take your wrist and find your pulse and your heartbeat." She tossed out a silent breath on her palm to make sure it was warm, and slipped her hand under Kevin's right forearm and rested the stethoscope chestpiece on him.

He lay still. "Good," Angela said, locating his heartbeat. "Now breathe in, slowly, nice and deep, through your nose, and I'm going to count to eight..." He obeyed as she did so. "And now breathe out, through your mouth, and I'm going to count again." She repeated the pattern. She instructed him to continue breathing in and out via her method, a few more minutes, until she felt his pulse and heartbeat inevitably flutter down to where she wanted them.

"Excellent," she murmured. "Just keep relaxing, Kevin. Just like that, you're doing great. The next thing I'm going to do is take your hand and lightly cup it between my hands. What this does, Kevin, is familiarizes your conscious mind with my hands' contact, so that once you're asleep, your unconscious mind will be aware that it's me touching your body. Your mind knows me, and it will know my touch, so your unconsciousness won't be disturbed."

Eventually, a minute later, she removed her right hand. Keeping her left hand's fingers interlocked with his, she leaned lower down towards him and draped her right arm diagonally across his chest, reaching up to his face, and caressed his cheek.

"Keep breathing," she guided him. "Be assured, Kevin, you are as safe and secure as is possible. My bed is the safest place you could be right now. Now, we're going to get ready and take you under. I'm going to count backwards from...

"Ten," she slowly, softly announced, stroking his left arm with her right hand. "And you're floating...

"Nine...you're in my arms...I'm carrying you up to Heaven...

"Eight...just enjoy the ride...you have nothing in the world to fear...

"Seven...your worries and cares are all back down on Earth...

"Six...you're being protected by me...shielded from any harm or wrongdoing...

"Five...you're in a bubble of celestial peace...nothing but comfort and serenity...

"Four...the tranquility is insurmountable...

"Three...a choir of angels is softly singing nearby...

"Two...you're now in the magic realm of hopes and dreams where nothing can go wrong..."

She carefully climbed up onto the bed a little bit, peering down so that his face was directly below her face. She took in the faint scent of his budding pheromones, letting her nose gingerly nuzzle his.

"One...welcome to Heaven, my cherub..."

She lowered her face so that the surface of her lips impossibly lightly swept across his lips, as she said the words...

"Kevin Grant, You're now snuggled under the blanket of sweet enchantment."

Discreetly raising her body from the near-kiss she'd just bestowed upon him, she quietly let her body back down on the floor. She tenderly stroked his arms—it was plain to see that the arms were one of her absolute favorite parts of the body—and rested her head on his chest to listen to his heart beat.

"Now, listen to Dr. Angie," she instructed. "Dr. Angie's your friend. She's on your side. She's here to help you. You're unconscious now, and Dr. Angie has you safely shielded under her wing, where you can be free to remain in peace, no matter what." Again holding his hand, she kissed one of his fingers. "Subconscious, if you can hear me, move the finger I just kissed."

The same finger twitched.

"Wonderful," she soundlessly applauded. "You are just doing so well right now, Kevin. Keep listening to what the doctor is telling you, and pay close attention now."

OH, I hope you're right about this, she thought to herself. Angie, you had better be right about this. She continued protectively caressing his arms and torso, listening to his heart, as she laid it all out.

"Subconscious, Kevin's fascination with red-haired women proves to be so broad that it has developed into a fetish. The sight of a red-haired woman provokes a built-in sexual impulse within him that automatically stimulates his hormones. Redhead women have become a very significant part of his sexual interest.

"At the same time, he also deals with the issue of rejection from women. This piece of his puzzle too has ascended to a highly significant point within his interest and identity. He now fears rejection to the point that if a woman does show sexual interest in him, his apprehension will shift, from rejection...to the level and competency of performance."

She let her right hand lift off his arm, simultaneously adding the slightest bit of extra pressure with her left for the moment, so as to balance the level of contact and not disturb the focus of his mind. She slipped her right hand under the pajama shirt and rested it on his stomach, and readjusted the contact level.

"Thus, when he dated the redheaded woman, his mind was already stimulated and anxious at the presence of her and the prospect of actually indulging and fulfilling his fetish. The problem was, as we've established, the lad was now nervous about his ability to sexually perform. And so those two elements combined, and when he actually realized...that the object of his great fetish desired to have sex with him, the fearful part of his brain took over, and became terribly overwhelmed. So overwhelmed, that his brain shut down his entire collective sexual activity altogether."

Angela's patients were so dear to her that the obligation to unlock the unfortunate truth even to this young man's subconscious almost brought a tear to her eye. As it all came together and she became surer and surer of it, she also felt worse and sorrier for him.

"Mentally," she solemnly continued, "Kevin was just not confident enough within himself that he could prove satisfactory to her standards of finesse, and he was so afraid of not doing so, he was frightened into impotence. It was the threat of being sexually embarrassed..."

...Which happened anyway, thought Angela, feeling sudden scornfulness towards this woman. She didn't even know her. But what sort of unkind person would laugh at erectile dysfunction?

"...that caused his arousal failure. Consequently, he has since been...unable," was all she said, less being more in a case like this. "So what we must do first is lobotomize her out of him." She clasped his right hand a bit tighter. "Subconscious, you must go through all of Kevin's recent memory files and permanently destroy any and all mental documentation that even remotely relates to this woman. Do you understand?"

Kevin's fingers flexed a little tighter onto her hand as well.

"Outstanding," she said. "Kevin, as your memory of this person is diminishing, what we also must do is build your confidence in yourself, in order to reduce the chances of this situation reoccurring."

Her right hand slipped out from underneath his loose pajama shirt.

Another reason Angela loved when patients opted to wear her pajamas was their loose bagginess, more easily enabling what was about to happen next. Emerging from under the pajama shirt, her right hand tip-fingered the few inches south, until her hand rested at the very top of Kevin's right thigh. She waited another moment.