Hypnosexual Therapy

After several years of courses, failures, and almost endless studying, I had become successful enough at hypnosis that I could open my own clinic. I had a brass sign on the small building that I shared with a regular therapist and a dentist, and the sign simply said "Katz Therapy." Of course, anyone could get therapy at a regular therapist, but I specialized in sexual therapy. Couples of all ages would come in to see me concerning their sexual issues, and my job would be to find the root of their issues and bring it to light so that the couples could progress in the bedroom.

In my office was no desk. I find desks to be intimidating for patients. Instead I put three padded chairs in a circle, and a sofa for those who felt more comfortable lying down. Lamps were set strategically throughout the room, with a dimmer switch on the wall to adjust them as necessary.

I installed three video recorders on tripods, one near the sofa, and one next to each patient's chair. I didn't always use them; I left the decision to record up to the patient(s), since many of them felt less comfortable with them running. I also had an audio recorder, and this played through all sessions for me to review.

As you can tell, comfort was a big issue. If the patient(s) were not as comfortable as possible, they would not open up, and hypnosis would be far more difficult. And if I couldn't hypnotize them, then I would not get very far into the source of their problems.

The weeks went by, and the appointment books filled up quickly. You'd be surprised how many issues can come up in the bedroom. Less than half of them stem from insecurities, ranging from penis size, weight, and appearances in general. Surprisingly many issues come from being molested, raped, or abused as children, and those are the most difficult to deal with. The next biggest issues are physical problems, infertility, erectile dysfunction, etc.

About two weeks ago, a couple came in for their four o'clock session, their second. The man was about 5'10, with dark hair, brown eyes, medium build, physically fit, "from playing football," he had said. His name was Tad. With him was a stunningly gorgeous woman named Sadey. Sadey had long, naturally blonde hair that flowed to her waist, piercing, jade hued eyes, a curvacious body, round breasts, a flat stomach, small waist, wide hips, a slightly large but well rounded ass, long, fit legs, and beautiful, pouty lips. Sadey didn't use makeup, except for a little eye-liner to accentuate her eyes.

I welcomed them in, and bade them sit. They picked the sofa, although I would've preferred that they take the chairs. I had dimmed the lights a little to soften the atmosphere, and ocean waves broke vaguely in the background. The issue, I had found from my first session with them, was not Tad, but Sadey. For such a stunning woman, she possessed an almost prudish disposition in the bedroom, but she could not understand why.

I don't hypnotize during the first session. In fact, what I spend part of the time doing is explaining my techniques so that they know what normally goes on in a session. The rest of the time, I listen to their problems and decide my approach from there.

For Sadey, I felt that I would need to put her under deeply, a bit deeper than I normally would, because whatever lay at the source of her lack of sexuality seemed to be completely hidden from her conscious memory.

I explained this to them both, and also told Tad that I would put him into a light hypnotic state so that I could take care of any problems that he might have hidden. He was slightly anxious, but sorely wanted for Sadey to be better, so he agreed without any problems.

I would put Sadey under first, so I asked that Tad wait outside in case there were problems that might affect him, or maybe things that he shouldn't know unless she told him personally. Tad left the room, and I asked Sadey if she would prefer sitting or lying down, and she preferred the latter, so I had her lie down, her head under a throw pillow.

"Okay, now, Sadey, if at any time, you feel anxious or afraid, I want you to remember that Tad is just outside in the waiting room. And," I switched the video recorder on, as they had agreed to it, and began, "What I would like you to do is listen to the sound of my voice, and the sound of the ocean. Doesn't the ocean sound so peaceful, the rolling of the waves washing your fears and anxieties and apprehensions away a little at a time. So peaceful and calm, so very calm. Close your eyes, and picture a seashore in your mind. You are standing at the edge, just past the surf, under a gray, yet calm sky. It's morning, and the sun hasn't come up yet, and you can see the water as it laps against the sand, darkening the sand before it retreats back into the ocean, gentle, lapping water, Can you see the ocean, Sadey?"

Sadey's voice was slightly slurred as she answered, "Yes, I see it. It's so peaceful."

I continued, "There are seagulls soaring overhead, playing in the surf. They are calling out to eachother as they swoop, dive, and circle overhead. They seem to be so peaceful, don't you think, Sadey?"

Again, she sleepily agreed.

"You are starting to feel that peacefulness from the ocean and the seagulls, like a warm, cozy blanket that covers your shoulders and body, and you're beginning to feel a great peace and tranquility from the top of your head, over your face, neck, chest, and down your hips, and your legs, all the way down to your toes. Can you feel it?"

She nodded, smiling dreamily, "So peaceful."

"You are feeling yourself drift into this peacefulness, this tranquil cocoon, and nothing can harm you in your cocoon. Nothing can harm you, and nothing will make you sad or take your peacefulness away. You are drifting through a door, a door that is your wakefulness, and into sleep, a deep sleep where you can rest in your cocoon of peace. The sounds of the ocean are fading, and the only sound you will hear and respond to is my voice. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"Good. Tell me your full name."

She told me her full name, still speaking in a sleepy voice, slightly slurred.

"In order to better hear you, you can speak clearly to me. Is this understood?"

She affirmed that it was.

"Good, now what is your age, Sadey?"

"My age is 23," she answered, more clearly now.

"Tell me about your experiences in the bedroom with Tad, please."

Her brow furrowed the slightest bit, which I noted, and she spoke, "I cannot please him very well. He is dissapointed in me."

I wrote a couple of sentences in a small notebook, and then asked, "Why do you feel you cannot please him well?"

"When I am going down on him," Sadey explained from her state, "I can't take him as far in my mouth as he would like. Everytime I try, I get nauseous. I can't enjoy it when he goes down on me, and when he has sex with me, I don't orgasm. He is disappointed that I can't enjoy it, and that I don't move around much."

"Please tell me, how does he feel when he is inside you?"

" He's very big, and I know it should feel good, but I feel like I'm going to suffocate when he puts it in me. I feel like I can't breathe."

I wrote again for a moment, and asked, "Do you have any idea that you have been keeping from either Tad or myself that you would feel this way?"

"No," her brow furrowed a little more, "I have no idea why I feel like that."

Now it was time to take her back until I found the root of her problem.

"Okay, now, the worries that you are feeling right now, I want you to let go of them, like balloons, just let go and let them drift away."

I watched, slightly amused, as her right hand opened, and, though her eyes remained closed, her head tilted up as if to watch them go. "Good," I smiled, "Now, what we will do is take a little trip. Open your eyes, but you will remain in this state, okay, now."

Her jade eyes opened.

"I want you to look at me, I am only feet away from your cocoon. Can you see me?"

"I see you right there," she acknowledged my presence.

"Wonderful, now, there is a clock in my hands, a sleek new clock with a glowing, white face. Can you see it?"

She told me that she could indeed see it, though in reality I held no clock.

"This clock is special, you see, If I move the hands backwards, time itself moves backward into your past. With the time, you, too move backward. I am going to start moving backward by a week at a time, and I want you to tell me what you see. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

I took her week by week, and she experienced it, telling me what she was seeing. But this was taking too much time, so I made it months.

As she got younger in her mind, the years rolled back further and further until she suddenly cried out in fear.

"Tell me how old you are right now, Sadey."

"I'm fourteen in two months," her voice sounded younger, the voice of a child.

"And what do you see, Sadey?"

"I'm staying with my mom and stepdad," she said in her thirteen-year-old voice, "My dad is away in Europe for a few years, and I couldn't come with him. I am upstairs in my room, reading one of my C.S. Lewis books, and my stepdad just walked into my room, startling me."

I had an idea what was about to happen, but I let her continue.

"He is asking me what I'm doing reading when I have chores to do. I tell him that I did the chores that my mother told me to do, but he says that I forgot a few of them. I ask him where my mother is, because she can tell him I finished my chores, but he says that she's out playing cards with some of her girlfriends. I start to say something, and then I see his face. It's flushed, and he looks excited about something."

"What happens next?" I urge her on.

"He walks into my room and shuts the door behind him, locking it. I'm confused, because I don't know what he's up to. He sneers at me,'You forgot to do all your chores, Sadey-girl, and you need to take your punishment now.' I'm a little scared. I can see something bulging in his pants as he walks over to my bed. He looks really scary standing over me, so I try to run away, but he grabs my arm and throws me back down on the bed. He's panting now, 'Come on, Sadey-girl, you need to take your punishment like a big girl.' I'm really scared now, I don't know what he's gonna do to me.

"He says, 'Take off your clothes, now!' and I shake me head, because I'm not supposed to do that in front of boys. 'You take em' off now, or I'll rip em' off you, and believe me, that'll hurt worse!' I take my clothes off."

I could see that she is quaking with fear, actually reliving this moment in her life.

"Okay," I soothe, "I want you to understand that you are not actually with your stepfather now. You are watching a memory, that's all. In actuality, you are completely safe from him. He can't harm you in your cocoon. You can relax, now, and tell me what happened next."

I watched her visibly relax, though her brow remained furrowed. This would do.

"I have my clothes off, only wearing my bra and panties. I have small boobs, but my mom got them for me anyway, and I wear them proudly. My stepdad makes me lay on the bed, and he starts touching me on my boobs. He pinches me through my bra, and it hurts, but he doesn't stop. He makes me take it off, and he puts his mouth on my boobs, sucking on them hard. His hand goes between my legs and touches me down there roughly.

"Then he stands up and makes me get on my knees in front of him. He opens his pants, and this...thing, really big with a lot of veins and stuff, and there's this big sack thing under it. He grabs my hair and pulls my face close to it, and then it's on my lips, so I clamp my lips shut, and he yanks hard on my hair until I cry out, and he shoves it into my mouth. It's hard, and it's salty. He pushes it into my mouth until I gag on it, and then keeps pushing it in and out, grunting, pulling my hair, telling me how good it feels to have my little lips all over his big cock, and then he shoves it in my throat again, and this warm stuff comes out, lots of it, and I'm choking on it. He takes his thing out of my mouth, and I spit the stuff out, it's so nasty.

"He gets mad when I spit it out, so he makes me lick it up, and it's so awful, but I'm too scared to not do it, so I lick it up. It makes me feel so sick like I'm gonna throw up, but I can't or he'll get even madder. Once I'm done, he grins and says, 'Good, you little bitch. Teach you to spit out my spunk. Now lay down on the bed and take those cut little panties off. I wanna see you.' I do what he says."

This explained why she got nauseous when performing fellatio.

"He's getting in between my legs and starts licking me down there. I'm so scared that I almost close my legs, but he has them held open with his hands, and he licks and licks until it's sore down there. When he gets up, his thing is hard again, sticking out.

He gets on me and starts forcing his thing where his tongue had been. It feels like it's ripping me down there, and he starts pushing it up in me like he had in my mouth. He starts pushing it in harder, hurting me more and more, and then he grunts and I feel more of that awful stuff in me, and he pulls it out, and it's covered with blood and his stuff. He tells me that if I tell anyone, he'll sneak into my room and chop me into little pieces and bury me in the yard. Then he leaves my room. It hurts so much down there that I can't close my legs all the way. I feel so gross that I have to take a shower and wash it off."

I told her to stop, "Okay, that's enough. What I want you to do now is look at the clock in my hands. I'm winding it forward now. You're going forward in time, forward through the years. I'm stopping in the present time. You are now in the present. I want you to remember everything that you've told me, remember it when you awake. Do you understand?"

"I understand," she affirmed.

I continued, "From now on, when I and only I tell you to 'watch the pretty butterflies,' you will quickly descend into the peaceful cocoon where you now rest. Okay, now, you are now ascending, out of the cocoon and through the door you drifted through. You are on the beach again. Can you see the beach?"

She said that she could see it.

"Good, now when I ask you to turn around, you will awake, and sit up. You will remember everything you told me about when you were thirteen. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

I started to speak, and then stopped. I looked at her finally, and noticed that her knee-length skirt and patterned blouse were in disarray. Her bra was exposed, a nipple clearly visible through the material. Her skirt had ridden up, baring her long, smooth legs all the way to her panties, which were plain white except for a spot of moisture in the crotch. Suddenly I noticed a bulge in my own pants, straining painfully against the pants. I couldn't let her wake with this problem, so I hurriedly adjusted her blouse and skirt until she looked presentable, my hand lingering on her soft thighs. I had to use a bit of my willpower to calm down, so I stood up and got myself a drink of water, sipping slowly until my erection eased, and then I said to her from near the side table, "Okay, Sadey, turn away from the shore now."

Her eyes blinked, focused on her surroundings, and she sat up, putting her sandalled feet on the floor. "Oh my God!" she cried out, and began sobbing uncontrollably. I grabbed the box of Kleenex and handed it to her.

"He raped me, that perverted bastard!" she cried.

I waited for her to calm a little before I spoke again, "Sadey, what your stepfather did to you explains your inability to have sex with Tad. What you have to realize is that, while it did happen, it's over now. You can't let what happened ruin your life with Tad."

She sniffed, blotting her eyes, "I know, but it was so horrible. I never told anyone. But he and my mom got in a fight over something else, and he left. I was so happy when he did."

Once she had calmed down, I called Tad in, had Sadey sit in the waiting room, and the put Tad under, just enough, but not as far as Sadey. He didn't appear to have any problems sexually, so I moved on.

"Okay, Tad, do you realize what a beautiful woman Sadey is?"

"She's stunning," Tad agreed wholeheartedly.

"Yes, she is," I continued, "But she is also as fragile as she is beautiful. She's had a very traumatizing event that has rendered her unable to enjoy sex. It isn't her fault, and neither is it your fault. I want you to focus on how amazingly wonderful she is, and not her inability to enjoy sex. Hold her whenever you get the chance, and be as gentle with her as possible. You two do not need to have sex. She's not yet ready for that, so you will refrain, instead you will hold her, smooth her hair, and tell her how much she means to you. Do you understand, Tad?"

Tad nodded, smiling slightly, "She's so wonderful."

"Okay. Now, in order for me to skip the process needed to put you under, from now on, whenever I, and only I, tell you to 'watch the pretty butterflies,' you will drift quickly into the state that you now rest in. Do you understand?"

"I understand...the butterflies..."

"Okay, now, turn away from the shore."

Tad awoke, still smiling, a little wider now.

"How do you feel?" I asked, and he laughed, "I feel great! I don't know what you did, but it's a miracle!"

I had Tad wait out in the waiting room with Sadey, and I gave myself a few minutes for a break. An idea had been forming in my head as Sadey had recalled under hypnosis her horrible entrance into womanhood at only thirteen. I debated in my mind that my idea was just as bad as what her stepfather had done, but the more it formed in my mind, the better it seemed.

Finally, convincing myself that it would better their sexual life, I called them both in again.

Sadey was still upset, but rather than feel frustrated at her, Tad was more comforting, holding her against him, smoothing her blonde hair soothingly, and that had a very positive effect on her.

"You both are making much progress," I smiled approvingly, "But I think you can use a little more positive reinforcement. Take a second and watch the pretty butterflies."

I watched them as they immediately went under.

"Do you hear me, Tad and Sadey?"

"I hear you," they said in unison.

"Good," I said, and then, just to test them, I asked them a question. They both answered it immediately, and I was satisfied with their answer. "I want you both to take a second and remember how you are sitting. I will ask you later to sit that exact same way. Do it... now."

They both nodded a second later.

"Sadey," I looked at her as she sat still, her eyes closed. "Yes?" she answered.

"Do you still remember what happened to you when you were almost fourteen?"

Her brows furrowed, "I remember."

"I have here an eraser, almost as big as a hand. It is magical. With it you can erase anything in your past. Now, before you is a television screen, right in front of you. On the screen is a movie of your life, and it is paused. On the screen now, paused, is the evening when your stepfather raped you. Can you see it right now?"

She nodded miserably as her mind saw the screen as I described it, her lower lip trembling.

"I want you to take the eraser from my hand, Sadey."

I watched as she plucked air from my hand, and held what was an eraser in her mind.

"Excellent, Sadey. Now, if you put the eraser on the screen and start rubbing, it will be like erasing a picture. If you think about it, do you really want that evening to exist?"

She trembled slightly, "No. I want it to go away forever."

"You can make it go away. All you have to do is erase it off the screen, and it will have never happened. That's what you want, right?"

She nodded, "God, yes!"