My Fair Slut Ch. 06

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So many sluts, so little time.
9.3k words
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Part 6 of the 8 part series

Updated 09/26/2022
Created 06/09/2002
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Boratus
Boratus
1,471 Followers

“We are only ever are true selves when we think no one is watching.” – Boratus

“Mr. Heffler, your 1 o’clock is here.” Carol said through the intercom.

“Send her in, Carol.” I replied, pressing the little button.

1pm and I’m already wishing it was 4:59. I like my job, I really do, but there are always those days when you just don’t want to be there. I’m a psychotherapist and hypnotherapist by trade, one of the best in the city actually. I’d been at it for a year when that 1 o’clock came in. The day had been a “snoozer”. It’s not that I didn’t care about people’s problems but there are a lot of problems that are pretty common and that morning I had to sit through the top three, one of them twice. I hoped that this next patient might help to wake me up a bit. It would be especially difficult since a nice lunch was doing its best to make me sleepy. The short notes on this patient said: Angela Gambini, sexual repression. It certainly wasn’t “habitual smoker” like my 11:00.

I lifted my head up from the short notes to behold the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life. Almost 2 metres tall, long curly golden locks that spilled over her shoulders, and an hourglass figure, though the top half was much larger than the bottom. A blue business suit with a white blouse attempted to give her more of a professional air than a sexual one but it failed miserably. Her breasts really couldn’t be contained by it and the cut of it still hugged her slim waist and showed off her ass. Her shoes only had an inch heel but at her height she really didn’t need any help up. God had sent me an angel or perhaps a minor goddess. I glanced back down at the short notes. Sexual repression? Her? There had to be some mistake! All she did was walk in and I already started to get hard. Well, guess that just proved thatI wasn’t repressed.

“Hello, Ms Gambini.” I said, offering my hand.

“Hello, Dr. Heffler.” She said shaking it with a light grip. She was obviously nervous. Most of my patients were the first time.

“Please, have a seat.” I said gesturing to one of the chairs in front of my desk. “Now, my secretary said there was a small problem with the payment to deal with.”

“Oh yes.” She said, quickly reaching into her purse. A moment later a wad of bills landed on my desk.

I picked it up and looked at her curiously. “Cash?”

“My husband thinks this type of help is bullshit. Excuse me. And so I can’t have it showing up on the credit cards or checking account.”

“I see.” I counted the money and then threw it in a drawer. I’d have Carol deposit it later. “So I guess you won’t need a receipt then?” I smiled.

“Oh no.” She smiled back, a little more at ease.

“Now let’s discuss what you feel the problem is.”

She looked around the room and caught sight of my couch. Yes, just like in tv and the movies. She smiled when she saw it. Everybody does that. They all look for it and are so happy to see it actually there. Then she turned back and seemed to talk to her hands.

“I can’t tell you my problem.” She said as she fidgeted with the bottom of her suit jacket.

“Excuse me, Ms Gambini?”

“Angela, please.”

“All right, Angela.” I acknowledged. “Now, it’ll be a little difficult for me to help you if you won’t tell me what your problem is.”

“Not won’t. Can’t.” She corrected.

I sighed inwardly. It’s not good for patients to see that you’re getting frustrated. “Ok. Can you tell me why you can’t.”

“I’d feel too awkward and too guilty.”

“Guilty?”

“Yes, guilty and I can’t tell you why.” She said looking at her lap.

That’s right. Make it as easy as possible, why don’t you. Ugh!

“Well if you can’t tell me and you can’t tell me exactly why you can’t tell me then we seem to be at an impasse.”

“Oh no, there’s an easy way around it all.” She said still looking down and fidgeting.

“Really? And what would that be?”

This should be good.

“Hypnotize me.” She said finally looking up into my eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“Please, I want you to hypnotize me.”

“I’m sorry, Angela, but that’s really not how this works. I don’t force confessions out of people through hypnosis. Besides, if you really don’t want to tell me what the problem is then you’ll resist being hypnotized.”

“Oh but I won’t!” She insisted. “You see I read about how people can be made to say and do things when they’re hypnotized and then forget them when they wake. What I want you to do is hypnotize me so I’ll feel relaxed and you can ask me about my problem but when we’re done you’ll make me forget that I told you. That way you can help me but I won’t feel so embarrassed.”

“But if you forget what we discussed then the session becomes meaningless.” I stated.

“But what if I keep coming back and each time you make me remember the last session so we can continue and then forget again when we’re done. We can keep going until you’ve fixed my problem and at that point I’ll want to remember and I will!”

Well, this certainly wasn’t going to be a boring session! She thought she had it all figured out but she didn’t seem to realize that she needed to remember each session so that she could mentally digest it before we met again. If we did it her way it would just seem like one long session to her and become difficult to deal with. On the other hand, if I put her under and then gave her the suggestion that she didn’t mind confiding in me then I could overcome the embarrassment issue and we could continue with normal session thereafter. It was worth a shot.

“All right, Angela. We’ll try it your way.” I said as I got out of my seat. She immediately got up and started toward the couch. I stopped her.

“No, you may sit here. It’s better if you’re seated the first time. On the couch there’s more of a chance of you falling into a real sleep rather than a trance.”

She looked disappointed. She really wanted to try out the couch. They all did.

“Don’t worry.” I assured her. “You’ll probably be using it on future sessions.”

A little grin crossed her face. It seemed almost mischievous.

“Now make yourself comfortable.” I told her and so she removed her jacket and then undid the top button of her blouse. I didn’t tell her to make me uncomfortable!

I held up a pen and took her through the basic steps, having her focus on it and then telling her to take a few deep relaxing breaths. Soon she was counting backwards and her eyelids where starting to flutter as she struggled to keep them open. Then she was under.

“Now Angela, I want you to put yourself in a very comfortable place; a garden or a beach or somewhere where you can just relax and be alone and be yourself.”

“Are you picturing it, Angela?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now whenever you are in this place no one can see you or hear you and you can do whatever you like. Sometimes, you may get a visitor but if you do you will know that you trust that person because you have allowed them into your special place. Anything you say to them in that place will be ok because it is a place of trust. Understand.”

“Yes.”

“And one more thing: there is a magic to your place which causes anyone but you to forget what happened when they were visiting your special place. That means you can confide anything you want to them and have no fear of them telling your secret because they’ll forget as soon as they leave.”

She smiled at the thought.

“Now, Angela, I am coming into your special place. You see me there with you and you know that you can trust me and you know you can tell me your secrets and when I leave I will forget them but you will feel better for having shared them with someone you trust.

“I trust you.” She said softly.

“Good. I want you to trust me. Trusting me makes you feel good. Sharing things with me makes you feel good. Is there anything you’d like to share with me now?”

“Yes.”

“And what is that?”

“I’m a slut.”

Whoa! Hold the phone!

“You … you mean you feel that you act slutty sometimes.” I prodded.

“No. I am a slut. I have been since I was a girl. I try to hide it in clothes and attitude but I hate doing so. I want to be owned and I want to be controlled. That’s why I came to you.”

“You wanted me to control you?”

“Yes, I’ve wanted to be controlled for so long now. I married my husband mostly for money but partly because I thought he was dominant and controlling but he’s not. He’s just angry and bullying and jealous. I’m trapped in my marriage so I can’t ever be with a real dominant man but then I thought about hypnosis. I thought if I was hypnotized then a man would have total control over me. I couldn’t do anything to resist him. That thought turns me on so much. I’ve played with myself to incredible orgasms thinking about it. Now it’s finally happening. I’m soaking. I’m so wet. Please order me. Tell me what to do.”

She sat there waiting for my command. I sat there with my mouth open. Her incredible chest heaved and, as I leaned in a little, I felt the heat coming off her. I caught the slight odour of sex as well.

“You didn’t come here to have any problem solved, did you Angela?”

“No. I came to be controlled. I came to be used. Please use me.”

“What do you want me to do with you?” I asked.

She frowned. “Please don’t ask me about anything I want. Tell me what you want me to do, what you want me to be.”

I saw the game she wanted to play. I sat there in my office with a goddess who was going to let me do anything I wanted to her. The more I ordered, the firmer I was, the more it would turn her on. I could fuck her right then and there and no one would be the wiser, not even her if I made her forget. Even Carol wouldn’t know. We’re on the 28th floor so no one can see in the windows. Also, the walls were soundproofed. I had it set up that way because under hypnosis people tended to scream or cry or yell as they relived old memories. Patients in the waiting room could get unnerved listening to that kind of thing. Angela had set things up so she was in her own private world where no one she knew or cared about could see her true self. I sat there in a room that was pretty much the same thing. But I was a doctor, a professional with moral obligations, laws actually. So it all came down to one thing: what kind of a man was I really?

“Take off your clothes.”

“Yes, sir!” she exclaimed excitedly.

“Not sir. From now own when we are alone in this room you will call me Master.”

“Yes, Master!” she said grinning widely.

I realized only then that her eyes were still closed.

“Slut,” I said.

“Yes, Master?”

“When I snap my fingers you will open your eyes. You will remain in a trance though and you will be completely under my power.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Every time I give you an order you will obey it. Obeying me will make you feel good. Disobeying me will make you feel uneasy and guilty.”

“Yes, Master.”

I snapped my fingers and her eyes came open. It made removing her clothes much easier.

When she was done I had my own shirt off. I wanted to fuck her badly but I knew she wanted control more than anything. Glancing at the clock, I saw we had used up half an hour already. That left only twenty minutes. I could push it to twenty-five.

“Get on your hands and knees, slut.”

“Yes, Master.” She said dropping eagerly.

“Now crawl around my office like the bitch you are.” I ordered.

She was off and crawling. She even barked a couple times. But as demeaning as the act was she could not help but look sexy. I saw that tanned round ass staring at me as I removed my pants, my cock springing out at full attention. What a relief it was to get it out of there. I was a bit nervous now because I didn’t have an athlete’s body. I was as average as they come with no chest, a beer gut and a cock that I knew wasn’t God’s gift but that I really couldn’t complain about either. She didn’t care. She saw my hard-on and an intense look of lust filled her eyes.

“Get your ass over here, slut!” I commanded and she crawled as quickly as she could and stopped right in front of me, kneeling and staring at my cock. Her tits jiggled a bit from the movement of going from crawling to kneeling. I just wanted to reach out and grab them and suck on them.

“Beg to suck my cock.” I said menacingly.

“Please, Master, let your slut suck your cock. I need to taste it. I need to make you feel good. May I please?” She didn’t lie. She was a slut.

“That was well done, slut. You may suck me.”

She practically dove for my cock and started to suck. I figured I had maybe a minute before I came in her mouth. No woman had ever sucked me like that. She seemed desperate for my cum. Her hands stroked my shaft and massaged my balls. Her head bobbed up and down at an incredible pace. And the vision of it! Oh Lord! A goddess was on her knees suck my cock! I blew my load into her mouth and she didn’t even pause. She kept the same pace swallowing my cum as I spurted again and again.

Finally she slowed down. She slid her mouth off me and licked my cock like and ice cream cone. She glanced up and me and smiled, “Thank you, Master.”

She was thankingme???

“Are you going to fuck your slut?” she asked in a pleading voice. Not right then I knew. I needed time to recover.

“Does my slut need to cum?” I asked her.

She nodded, “Yes, Master, desperately.”

“Show me how desperately.” I said, “Lie and the couch and play with yourself. Put on a good show for me.”

Her face lit up and she practically leapt over to the couch. She draped one leg over the back rest and the other on the floor to give me a good view of her clit and pussy. The fingers of one hand spread apart her labia and the other began to work slowly up and down her slit. She was already glistening with moisture. Her head rolled back almost immediately as her fingers began their work. She began to moan. Her tongue came out and licked her lips. My cock began to stir already. I had figured I’d need about ten minutes to recover but I didn’t expect to see this. Her legs bent and straightened as her fingers increased their pace. My cock grew and began to rise. Her eyes opened for a moment and saw it and a grin spread across her face. She stopped playing with her clit and shoved three of her fingers into her cunt and began to fuck herself. Moans became grunts. One hand went up to her tit and twisted the nipple. I wanted to jump her right then but I also wanted to see her cum on the couch. It was an exquisite kind of torture, watching and wanting. I was fully erect and her hand left her nipple and reached out to me, beckoning. I shook my head and smiled. She was disappointed that I wouldn’t come over and at the same time happy that I remained in control.

“Don’t cum until I order it.” I said trying to add to the feeling of control. Instead of slowing her pace, she quickened it. The order turned her on even more. So I decided to go with that. “Look at you, you little cum slut. What a horny little cunt you are! You’d do anything to cum wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Master!” she exclaimed, her hand now rammed her fingers into her cunt.

“You love being under my control, don’t you?”

“Yes, Master!”

“You need it, don’t you?”

“God, yes Master!”

She was sweating and holding back the orgasm with all her might. I thought I might cum right there with no stimulation other than watching her writhe on my couch.

“Cum, slut.” I ordered and she screamed as it ripped through her. Her hand slowed but pumped harder. Her other hand grabbed her tit hard and squeezed. At that moment I moved in, pulled her hand from her cunt and shoved my cock in its place.

“Master!” she cried.

“Fuck me, slut.” I ordered and she grabbed my back and thrust her hips forward. I pumped hard and saw the glazed look in her eyes. She expected to be able to recover from the orgasm but I wasn’t going to let her. “You belong to me, slut. Body and soul. From now on you are nothing but my fuck toy.”

“Yes, Master.” She said breathlessly as she fucked me even harder. I couldn’t believe how much my words could affect her especially in this hypnotic state. The words typically made a person believe and accept things, not get turned on. I was also surprised that this much activity didn’t snap her out of it. But she wanted this. She wanted it desperately. I thought about her husband ignoring her. Not enjoying what I was to its full extent. Stupid, stupid man.

“Master!” she exclaimed and I knew she had to cum again.

“Yes, slut.” I said locking eyes with her

“Please.” Was all she could get out.

I bit down on her tit and her nails dug into my back. These were the most beautiful tits I’d ever seen, or tasted for that matter.

I stopped pumping and panic came over her. She bucked into me feverishly. She was there. She so needed the release and here I was making things hard for her.

“Please!” she cried.

“Cum.” I whispered as I started pumping again. Her hips pushed us both off the couch as she came.

“Maaaaaasteeeeer!” she called out. I gave her a few seconds and then said “Cum” again and another orgasm hit. I thought the moan from that one could penetrate the sound-proofing. I was about to have one of my own so I decided to make the most of it. I looked deep into her eyes and smiled, “Cum. Cum. CUM!”

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her legs wrapped around me and threatened to crush me. I think her fingers drew blood. She couldn’t even scream. Her mouth was opened but only a quiet high-pitched tight squeak came out. I don’t know if she felt me cumming inside her. I don’t think she cared. We lay there a few minutes though she began to loosen her grip after the first minute. Still, I’m willing to bet it was the longest orgasm she’d ever had.

I didn’t want to move. I wanted to be with her forever. But our time was up and I couldn’t be caught like this. I pulled out of her quickly. “Get dressed, slut.” I ordered.

She did so quickly but regrettably. When she and I were both dressed I had her sit back in her chair and told her she would go back to behaving like her old self as soon as she walked out of my office. She would forget what physically happened in the office but would remember the feeling of being totally controlled and know that she would experience it again at our next appointment.

Carol gave her a questioning glance as she left the office. I told her I’d needed a couple minutes to go to the bathroom and quickly relieved myself in the toilet attached to my office and then sprayed air freshener all over to cover up the smell of sex.

There was never another appointment. Angela just disappeared. I thought of tracking her down but the professional in me told me it was best for job and career to just leave it be. The memory is pretty vivid to this day. I’ve never taken advantage of another patient but I know if I ever ran into Angela again I would do everything I could to get her under my control again. A little part of me still wonders if she faked the whole thing just to enjoy a fantasy of hers.

What’s the point of this little story? I just wanted to let you know what kind of a man I was just so it doesn’t come as a surprise that when my friend Jim asked me to overthrow his boss’s little slut empire I agreed without much of a moral debate.

I couldn’t believe what that man had put Jim through. He had turned my friend into a male slut and used him to entertain and coax unscrupulous clients. Under hypnosis, Jim had filled me in on many of the details and then struggled to become the man he used to be again. It didn’t work. Jim had always been a confident man, a “go-getter” so to speak but after coming to terms with his slut side he had somehow changed. Confident didn’t encompass him any more. He was dominant, driven and somewhat angry, though not at the world. His anger is focused, rightfully, at his boss Paul. Paul hadn’t only turned Jim into a slut but his wife Liz as well along with many of Jim’s co-workers and their spouses. The entire office basically doubled as a whorehouse. I have to admit I’m impressed with the man. It makes me think about hypnotizing Carol. She’s an average looking woman and a little plump but sometimes I just need a blowjob during the day and I wouldn’t mind her lips being wrapped around me to get one.

Boratus
Boratus
1,471 Followers