Hypnothe-Rapist Ch. 01

She could see his body begin to shut down and submerge beneath the veil of unconsciousness. She felt and heard his heart rate gradually slow down. She smirked warmly, waited another second or two and continued.

"Good, honey...very very good. Now keep breathing deep, in and out, and we're going to slowly take you into your trance. I'm going to count backwards from ten." She leaned in close to his ear again and whispered...barely audibly...

"Ten...remember, my angel, you might still feel sad for right now, but it's going to be okay..."

His head lolled over to the side, indeed descending into blissful somnolence. She felt the rate of his heart fall a bit more.

"Nine...you are now just a little less sad...your depression will continue to decrease, bit by bit, each time I count..."

His eyes fluttered drowsily under the sleep mask. He could already feel himself drifting off. She waited a few more moments between each count.

"Eight...you're still all right...gaining more control all the time...

"Seven...and more control still...remember, you're strong...

"Six...it's gonna be okay...keep in mind, I'm your friend, and we're going to overcome this together...

"Five...okay, we're halfway there...

"Four...it's all right...Dr. Angie's going to make it all better...

"Three...don't worry about a thing...your guardian Angel-a won't let anything happen to you...

"Two...you're a hundred percent sheltered under my protection...okay, ready?...

"One...all right...I shall now put you under...and..."

She silently snapped her fingers above his head, and he was out, as if she had just waved a magic wand over him.

"You are now completely unconscious..." she breathed, removing the stethoscope. "And you will do precisely as I tell you, Timothy. Listen...to the doctor," she lullabied him. "You have been locked inside a cage of depression for a long time...and now, the nice doctor is going to release you."

She leaned her head downwards just a bit further, just barely nuzzling his cheek with the tip of her nose, as she let her right hand ever so softly glide down his stomach...

Satisfied that his pulse was behaving, she slipped her left hand out from under his wrist and caressed his hand and forearm...

"Remember...Dr. Angie's your friend," she cooed in his ear. "And you trust her.

"Now, Timothy, I am speaking to your subconscious. You may not be aware just whence came your depression, but you rest assured, my lovely gent, we're going to get to the bottom of it and bring you through it.

"In the meanwhile, Subconscious, I have a task for you to carry out in Timothy's mind. I want you to activate Timothy's limbic system, where, as you know, things are a bit drab just now, and sort of...freshen things up. Open the windows. Put some brighter wattage in the lights. Paint some bright colors on the walls. Get some love and some life in there!"

Her right hand continued finding its way south...

And to distract his subconscious from the trek her right hand was making, she daintily stroked his cheek and chin with the back of her left...

"And while your subconscious is doing this, just remember...

"...Trust..." she repeated, "Is the most important thing, Timothy...

"...Just place your faith in my hands...and I'll take care of the rest."

Finally...her right hand settled...upon its final destination...

...And methodically...deliberately...began fondling him, through his silky khaki slacks...

...Until she felt the response...slowly but surely rising...from underneath the zipper...

...Sending a tingle of excitement through her arm...

"That's right," she purred, her lips just barely brushing his cheek. "Listen...to the doctor. You are in good hands with her." She smiled at her little pun. "She's gonna make everything okay."

Her left paw drifted from his neck down to his chest to again feel his heart, which was now starting to speed back up. She did the usual quick mental calculating. With five years' experience under her belt, she had become expert at balancing the arousal in a man so that his heart accelerated just enough to rush the necessary blood to his stiffening member, but not enough to actually awaken him from his trance. He stirred a bit, but she soothed the top half of his body back down again.

A couple of minutes later, he had solidified enough inside his pants that she could trace the outline and shape of his penis between her excited fingers. Growing more quietly fervent by the moment as always by the time the treatment reached this point, Angela could feel her own heart quickening as well. She had carried out this procedure with dozens upon dozens of men, and yet in five years, her enthusiasm never dimmed.

She softly kissed his cheek. "Timothy, my dear..." she whispered seductively, her mind turning lightly to thoughts of erotic sensuality...

Angie discreetly unbuttoned his pants, silently pulled the zipper down, forced her eager hand to behave itself, and let it gracefully, gingerly slip beneath...

"The doctor..." She smirked lasciviously.

"...Is in."

Feeling the spongy, tender flesh of his twitching cock against the skin of her own warm hand made her tingle once more. Timothy did not wake up, but Angela's pussy did. She felt the tiniest trickle of enjoyment between her legs, and her vagina now wanted to be allowed out and play too, but she had to make it control itself. At the same time, now began the challenge she relished so much: keeping him under while carrying out the full treatment...

He stirred again, beginning to tighten up a bit. She kept soothing him, keeping the top half of him calm and relaxed while simultaneously keeping him stimulated below the waist. "It's okay..." she assured him, "It's all right. Everything's...just...fine.

"Now Timothy," she whispered to him, "I'm going to need you to just lift your posterior a little for me..."

As his subconscious obeyed, Angela reached around to the back of his trousers.

"Very good," she continued whispering. "You're doing wonderful."

In linked her fingers, guiding the trousers down his thighs, until his manhood could finally be released...and settled his body back down into the mattress.

Just before his stiff member emerged, she paused and softly instructed, "In just a second, my dear...you're going to feel a twinge...but, whatever you do, Timothy...you mustn't acknowledge it. Subconscious, you must stick to the task I have assigned you, and our dear friend Timothy must remain calm and tranquil in his happy place..."

...Which is about to be even happier, she finished thinking to herself. For the first time, while remaining gentle as could be, Angie, satisfied that his subconscious was securely locked in slumber, rerouted her full attention to the region between his thighs. Finally, his slacks were subtly tugged down just enough to expose him to the open air.

At last liberated from its khaki cocoon, Timothy's hardened penis leapt into the air with such spring that it almost whapped her right in the nose. She giggled to herself like a young girl. She felt her bra hug her just a millimeter tighter as her nipples now also noticed what was going on. She raised her voice just enough to carry to his brain, accentuated her words with more emphasis, and said, "Now, Timothy, I will need you to continue to do as I say...just lie back...and don't move." She groped the base of his dick and kissed it tenderly. "And remember...trust...the hypnotherapist. Again, she is your friend...

"...And she knows...what she is doing."

Now be a good patient...and kindly let your dutiful Doc suck your beautiful cock.

Timothy stirred a bit more, but Angela could read the signs of his arousal. She knew he wouldn't wake up.

Once she touched his balls, she silently gasped. They were incredibly tight. And full, she could tell. They were almost turning blue!

Looking back up at him in astonishment, she thought, Well, for Heaven's sake! Timothy, honey, no wonder you're so unhappy! Good grief, man, whenever was the last time you had a release??

She could see now her mission was clear as day. As she stroked and rubbed the head of his cock, she ran her tongue up the shaft, playfully teasing his frenulum. She cupped his balls and tongue-waggled a circle around them as well, which made him stir and jump just a bit. She instinctively whipped her gaze to his face. Even though she knew he wasn't going to awaken, she thought, Oops! Ticklish spot, huh? Okay, no more licking the jewels.

She instead toyed with his sensitized testicles with her fingertips and put her tongue to work around the rest of his member, coating it with saliva top to bottom...and once another minute had passed, finally decided the paramount portion of the Starr Treatment was urgently imminent.

Once the moment was right, she proceeded to take him, fully, into her mouth, very slow, very discreet. This further aggravated and frustrated her vagina, which desperately wanted in on the activity. She again told her Little Angie to be quiet, and continued to caress Timothy's balls, keeping one alert eye on his face, lightly tweaking the base of his cock, which did not receive as much oral attention as the rest. She looked up and noticed a few fingers of each of his hands twitching, and she temporarily abandoned his balls to soothe his hands with her own.

It's okay, Mr. Jacobs, I understand, she thought, interlocking their fingers and affectionately hugging his cock with her lips. I can see you're fragile—heavens, you're practically a virgin for goodness sakes, and your poor dick has obviously been in need of some serious tender loving care for a long time. But worry not, my lad; you've come to the right place.

The minutes elapsed away in the dark, quiet, peaceful room. Angela's lips slowly, warmly made their way up and down his trembling erection over and over again. And when enough time passed, eventually...the inevitable: the growing sensation was such that his testicles were drawing and tightening up. Clearly agonizingly long as it had been since Timothy'd enjoyed any sexual relief, she could tell this particular case would not take especially long. Of course, her tremendous skill and talent accumulated over years of practice did not hurt either.

As was usually the case when the treatment heated up, however, her unfortunate pussy became insanely jealous of her mouth. It hated being excluded. No matter how many times she performed the procedure, this pattern never failed to occur. She could hear it shouting at her in longing and desire, wetting her with its horny weeping, and as much as she didn't want to, still she ignored it.

Reading the signals and counting down the seconds in her head, Angela slowed down her pace to heighten the intensity for both of them. Timothy was stirring once more, and his mouth was letting out soft, silent moans. She patted and stroked his arm to keep him as calm as he could be, and when her mental timer reached ten, she slid her oral grip back to the top, riding her tongue up and down, back and forth across the especially sensitive small area just beneath his glans, and returned her hands to their tasks. She gently rubbed his balls between the fingers of her left hand, and glided her right hand's nails and fingertips down the bottom half of his dick, her cheekbones, jaws, lips and tongue handling the top half.

Her own legs were beginning to quiver. She could squeeze her arms tighter against her torso to give her breasts a little soothing, but her vagina was dying, yearning and hungry, literally crying tears all over her panties and thighs. She had to take a second to lean down, reach to the floor, grab the pillow she'd been kneeling on and wedge it between the bed and her legs, just to have something to push her desperate pussy against.

As much as she adored the final seconds, she always wished she could slow the time down, to just eternally savor the last moments as much as possible. Yet she counted them down at normal speed...

Nine...eight...seven...her mind settled in for the remainder of the pulsing sensation bulging through the tightly stretched skin...

Six...five...four...his body quivered, still under her spell but certainly not oblivious to the treatment...

Three...two...Angela braced herself as always, squeezing her lips tight on him, going down to the base to even more sumptuously coax out the essence, as she felt the familiar throbbing volcano effect inside...

One...feeling it coming at last, she culled it up and through with her lips and tongue...

Finally, Timothy's body shook, wriggled and locked, until he emitted a silent, lust-drenched, pleasure-soaked yowl only audible in Slumberland, and splash after hot splash of Angie's salty, sweet reward exploded in the back of her mouth like fireworks. Inaudible to Angela as they were, the orgasmic celebrations proved equally rewarding and gratifying to her nevertheless, and she would always blush with modest pride at the visible—and tasteable—fruits of her labor. And at long last, her own moment of relief occurred, just as did every time. The nanosecond she didn't need her hands for him anymore, tired as they were, they knew they had their next piece of work all cut out for them.

***

November 25th, 3:46 p.m.

Thirty minutes later, Dr. Angela Starr had returned from her office's private washroom where she had performed the normal ritual of cleaning herself up, tossing the spare pillow she'd humped to oblivion into the washer, replacing it on the floor with a clean one, and restoring her face from its flushed state. She had subsequently dispensed herself a glass of fresh water, downed it, taken a breath mint, straightened out her nightgown and put her glasses back on, done everything to restore the original picture to which Timothy's memory became accustomed.

Once she had given his penis a light cleaning with a damp cloth and made sure that no trace of his discharge (or hers) had found its way onto his trousers or the bed, she pulled his pants back up, tucked in his genitals, re-fastened them, did a final mental checking of the situation, and decided the time was right to awaken him again. She knelt back down on the fresh pillow, leaned down to his ear and said, "Timothy, your hypnosis is concluded. I am now going to count forwards to ten, and when I reach ten, I will snap my fingers, and you will come out of your trance fully awake."

She started at one, and thirty seconds later, had gotten to ten. She snapped her fingers above his head, audibly this time, and Timothy regained consciousness.

"Arise, Timothy!" she giggled, waving her hands theatrically like a hypnotic David Copperfield, greeting him with her big smile. "You can take off your sleep mask now."

Timothy slowly sat up and his hands unsteadily found the mask and removed it. He blinked several dozen times, rubbing his eyes and trying to refocus everything. Finally, the doctor's face came into clear view again and he noticed her kneeling at his side.

Angela took his hand and shook it vigorously. "Sir, you did wonderfully! Honest, no kidding, things could not have gone better." Her beaming eyes sparkled at him.

"R—...really?" he asked.

She nodded. "How do you feel?"

Still slowly getting his bearings back, Timothy said, "Uh...a little disoriented...and kinda dizzy...but, uh, other than that..." He lightly shook his head and said, "...Pretty good, actually."

Angela felt like blushing again. She couldn't let her smile fade. It was simply indescribable how much she loved her career.

"Aw, that makes me so happy," she said. She then added, "Oh, and rest assured, the dizziness and disorientation are completely normal. They're the result of the activity of your eyes. It's called the REM state: Rapid Eye Movement. It happens when we have our most intense and memorable dreams. That's why sometimes when you wake up, your eyes feel weird, like they've been rolling around your head all over the place. It's just like normally waking up in the morning; it'll just last a few minutes."

He nodded, taking it all in.

"So let me ask you," she said, already knowing the gist of the answer, "Do you feel depressed at all? Can you remember the feelings and effects the depression had on you?"

He thought a moment. He thought for a few more moments. Finally, he returned his gaze to her.

"Y'know, it's weird..." he said, blinking some more. "I can...kind of still remember it, but...all of a sudden it feels...so much less...severe. Like...like I can handle it better now."

Angela nodded, grinning her big lovely grin at him. "I told you you did great, sir." She stood, and offered him her hand to help him up. "Oh, by the way, there's the restroom," she said, gesturing towards it.

Timothy looked back and forth from it to her. "Thanks, but...how did you know I needed to use the restroom?"

"Oh, Timothy, it's been two hours!" she said with a chuckle. "I'd be surprised if you didn't have to."

As he shakily ambled in, Angela quickly mentally congratulated herself, plopping down in her chair, picking up her glasses, pad and pen and scribbling down, "Timothy Jacobs, introductory interview, session one, depression ostensibly linked to sexual repression. Starr Treatment—" next to which she placed an asterisk, "Update progress soon."

A few minutes later, Timothy returned.

"You know what's weird though?" she heard him ask, and turned around to face him.

"What's that?" As if she didn't know exactly what he was about to say.

Timothy made a gesture with his hands that he didn't exactly know how to explain this. "I...it...it didn't really feel that different from just a regular night's sleep, but it seemed like, while it was going on, I was...having this weird dream..."

Her eyebrows rose. "Oh?" she smirked, feigning. "Well, we have got a couple minutes left...want to talk about it?"

It was his eyebrows' turn to raise. "Um..." he turned a little red, feeling sheepish and a bit embarrassed. He clasped his hands together, holding them down over his lower torso, as if to cover himself. "I...dunno."

"Oh, it's okay," she said, adoring his shyness of the whole situation. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. What I'll tell you, though, is that particularly strange and out of the ordinary dreams are not at all uncommon under hypnosis. It's like I told you about the REM state. In fact, believe it or not, it's really fairly normal to have hypnotic dreams with bizarre undertones, be they frightening, disturbing, simplistically nice, unplaceable, or even sexual."

Timothy visibly reddened. "You don't say," he remarked. "Yeah, I mean, actually, for some reason it almost feels like I..."

She waited. "...Yes?"

About to finish, Timothy waved a hand and said, "...Nothing. Never mind."

She shrugged. "Well, okay. So how do you feel about the way the session went?"