Reborn Pt. 01

What was on my mind was the many facets of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, being able to recondition a human's brain, especially orgasmic reconditioning. It was most commonly used to treat harmful sexual paraphilias, and it had varied results. I was most interested in how you can use the human orgasm to recondition the brain to new things. New fetishes, lifestyles, even a career choice. I knew this had next to no results or anyone even attempting such a thing, but I wanted to find out.

Just how easy would it be to use orgasms and positive sexual experiences to change the course of someone's life? Brain patterns? Hobbies? Fetishes?

Suddenly, I heard a knock at the door. Must be someone in need of counseling, I thought. I tabbed out of my research tabs and onto the college homepage.

"Come in," I called out.

The door opened with a soft creak, and I was greeted with a familiar face. I think her name was Gracie, I had interacted with her only once on the first day. Her grades were fine so far, and she was a quiet girl. I smiled up at her.

"Gracie, nice to see you. Please have a seat." She silently nodded and took a seat.

"Sorry, I just need to log in your details as a record we had a session...Gracie Collins is your full name, right? Freshman?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Alright, just a moment..." I quickly typed in and brought up her student profile, marking down we had a session on this date.

"So, what brings you in today? Need some counseling?"

Her eyes averted from my face to looking down. Uh oh, never a great sign. Maybe she was just shy?
"Yes...I, ah, ummm, I've had depression for like...6 years? And severe anxiety, and I just, uhm, haven't been feeling well lately..." She went on to tell me about how the first couple of weeks were fine but her mental state slowly started to deteriorate. She was having trouble sleeping, eating regularly if at all, and how she was scared it would affect her grades. Near the end of her speech her voice began to crack, and I could tell she was close to tears. Then, they began to fall. I offered her a tissue, which she gratefully accepted.

As she went on and on about her past school experiences in comparison to the present, I felt sympathy take an iron grip in my chest. I all too well understood her emotions and worries. A couple of times she gave me flashbacks to my own school days.

"...and, I don't know. I had my food already so I just decided to sit in the cafeteria here, right? Like, why not? Usually I take my food back to my dorm but I thought it'd be good for me to not be cooped up in there for as long. I sat down and started eating and then I just felt this...panic? I-I'm not sure how to describe it. Everything began to overwhelm me. All the noise, the voices, the clatter...my heart started going faster and I just...covered my ears. I couldn't take it. The noise was too much. I just sat there with my eyes closed and my hands over my ears trying to block it out. Everything freaked me out for some reason. I don't know how long I sat there, but I eventually just grabbed my food and went back to my dorm...and then, I thought tomorrow I'd go to a counselor so...I'm here now. I don't know what to do."

It was obvious she was severely mentally ill. I would have loved to sit and hear her life story for hours to fully comprehend the girl sitting in front of me, in hopes I could give her an in depth analysis of her person to help her. Unfortunately, that wasn't my job here. Her body was slightly shuddering in front of me, as if shaking with fear.

A couple of times she had mentioned past suicide attempts, thoughts, and feelings - some of them very recent. Legally I had to put this on her record to the mental health offices but my gut told me no. I've had this feeling before, it was almost sickening to disclose such personal talks to the school administration, wrong even, but I always did.

I looked up at her again. She reminded me of me. I'd had that a few times as my looks weren't very peculiar, just dark hair, caucasian skin, and blue eyes. She too had dark hair - darker than mine, black. Hazel eyes, and pale skin. She definitely resembled some of my past exes from my emo phases. Still, I hated when patients reminded me of myself. I desperately wanted to help them, I saw the broken person in them I used to be. I wanted to hold them close, comfort them, and help them work through it all.

Work did not allow that. Counselors of any kind had to keep a certain distance. To not 'carry it home with them'. If you bring all of your patients' struggles home with you, they begin to affect you as well. Work needs to stay at work, you could say.

I had that told to me once as a teenager. I can't explain it, but it angered me. I did not feel like I was an important client after that, like my feelings were not heard. Anyone with a mental illness can tell you, all they want is to be cared about, heard, and understood. I stopped going to that psychiatrist after he said that to me. Gracie, I could tell, was one of those people. Not to mention she was probably the most seriously depressed students I had ever talked to.

I told myself I would be different. I would care about my patients and do my utmost for them, no matter what therapy, counseling, or psychologist position I was in. I hadn't been different. I had conformed to the system. Why?

I clenched my fist around the pencil I had held to take notes on her with. I was getting angry. After 6 years of college I understood you had to keep a professional distance. I was a past valedictorian, a model student, and accomplished college professor and counselor. I understood everything I needed to, ignoring my feelings to be a good worker.

No more. I have to help these students, the same way I needed help that I never received. I can't go on lying like this anymore. I have to help Gracie.

The pencil snapped in my hand.

Gracie jumped a bit, frightened by the sudden snap.

"Ah, I'm so sorry, I didn't know I was holding it so tight - untapped male strength huh?"

She smiled up at me, letting out a soft laugh. Her eyes sparkled with the tears she had finished a few minutes before, her cheeks red from all the emotions she had released in our private space. She looked radiant. And sad. So, so sad. My heart stuttered.

"Thank you for telling me all of this. I understand it must really hurt to have to relay such private emotions to someone almost a stranger. I understand the way you're feeling, I felt the same way growing up. I became a psychologist slash counselor to help those who feel like I did. I'm so sorry you've been suffering alone this way...I promise I understand it too well." I motioned to my own degrees on the wall.

"These have helped me understand why humans with depression feel the way they do and act the way they do. I want to help you. More than just a counselor arguably should. Would you...possibly be interested in having extensive therapy sessions with me outside of school grounds? I'm qualified to give them. Sometimes I regret my decision to be a professor and I should have become a proper psychologist instead. If you have sessions with me off campus I wouldn't have to put it on your record either."

She had begun to smile brightly through my speech, and was nodding her head excitedly.

"O-Oh my gosh, I'd really love that, thank you so much, Professor Woods! I think that would really help me!"

I smiled and reached out for her hand. She gave it to me, and I clasped it in mine.

"Please just call me Brett. I will do my utmost to make sure I can help you. I'm so sorry I can't give you a proper response, but I don't want a stain on your student record. Please forgive me. Can I meet with you later tonight? Are you free then?"

"Oh I understand! I've had counselors put notes on my records before and it really sucked, they'd call me in for evaluations and it wasn't fun. I'm free tonight. Oh, how much will these sessions cost?"

"Cost? Oh-I, uh, well, nothing. I can't take money out of a college student's hands. I get paid well enough, and this is something I want to do...for both of us."

I slowly rubbed my thumb in circles over her hand. So small...so soft...fragile...like the rest of her...

I shooed any inappropriate thoughts out of my head. Now was not the time to view her as a female, but as a depressed patient who needed help. I had a bad habit of getting attached to those who resembled myself. I couldn't help it, it was just my nature to nurture.

"Just promise me you'll try your hardest in my class, your good grade will be my payment. Besides, I get paid more the higher average grade is for my class." I winked at her.

She giggled, gripping my hand tighter. "Of course! I really like your class, you're an excellent teacher, Profe- I mean Brett."

"I'm so glad to hear it. Do you have a mode of transportation to get to my house? I live only 10 minutes away from campus."

She looked down, suddenly worried. "Oh...ah, no. I don't have a license or a c-car, actually. I live on campus and never leave. I was in a car accident when I was 15 so I've been kind of scared to drive or buy a car..."

Well, fuck me. A bolt of empathy and hurt shot up my torso, I was pained by her words.

Did she have some form of trauma too from that? Gracie was really beginning to worry me. I'll help her. I'll heal her all by myself. I swear.

"No problem, I can pick you up if you're comfortable with that. Only one thing - you can't tell anyone you're meeting me outside of campus for counseling. I can get into real trouble for it, alright? Can you promise me you won't let that slip?"

She smiled again and nodded, pulling her hand out of mine and clasping hers together in her lap. "Of course, sir! I wouldn't dare jeopardize your career, especially if it's to help me."

Such a little sweetie... "Sounds great, shall I pull up around 6 then? And could I have your number to contact you with?"

We exchanged numbers, she thanked me a near thousand times, and I could tell as she left her body language exhibited much happier behavior.

My eyes went back to my computer, my own spirits lifted as well. I felt those emotions soon fall as I glanced at her profile on my screen. I stared into the eyes of her student ID picture.

What the fuck have I done...she's...so hurt. I've never helped anyone like her in length. How am I going to go about treating her? She has so much potential, I can't let her crash and burn...or worse, hurt herself.

I tabbed out of the college site, back to my own research tabs.

Orgasmic Reconditioning.

I stared at my screen for a few minutes.

I think I may have an idea.

My day after she left was uneventful. No one else came in for counseling that day, I just toiled away eagerly writing down notes in my laptop of various methods and ways I can help Gracie. I was so stupid just a few hours ago, this is my chance. My first, real opportunity to successfully test my beholden methods on a malleable young mind.

For the first time in my career, I genuinely felt excited. I enjoyed what I did for a living, but this was a special occasion for me. I really hope she doesn't regret her choice to take me up on my offer once I begin telling her about the treatment I could attempt to administer.

Maybe you don't have to tell her...

No. That was silly. I have to tell her about my thoughts, the same way a psychiatrist has to tell what meds they're prescribing. It would be wrong not to.

It's also wrong to secretly counsel one of your students without the knowledge of your employer.

I shrugged away any stray thoughts and gathered up my materials for the day. One more hour before I said I'd pick her up.

In 10 minutes I had arrived home, fed Otto dinner, and ate some myself. All throughout my meal I typed away on my laptop, thinking of more and more ways I can help Gracie. I have to do this right. I can't deceive a young girl like this. I can't take advantage of my student like this. But I could, I totally, totally could.

I sat at my table, empty plates pushed to the side and my fingers busy typing and brainstorming. I heard a familiar click of claws on hardwood as the husky padded over, clearly finished with his own dinner. He was a clingy dog, always having to be around his master. I knew that feeling well, but with human relationships. My hand absentmindedly reached out to stroke his head, feeling him plop his head on my leg in hopes for more attention.

I smiled and looked down at my dog. That dumb, happy expression.

Maybe...just...maybe. No. I won't tell her. I can do this.

My free time passed in the blink of an eye, and I had begun driving back to campus and to the lot of Gracie's dorm. I had texted her a few minutes prior telling her I was on my way, to which she responded she was ready.

My heart was thumping hard in my chest, I was really nervous to do this with her. I was excited all the same, I just kept on thinking to myself over and over again my first real patient! I hoped she would be receptive to my...non traditional methods. A little bit of hypnosis should help do the trick to get her mind on a positive train of thought to better herself in the long run, right? Then some careful conditioning and maintaining her healthy mental state, and maybe a little bit of reprogramming...I really shouldn't be thinking this way about using a student as my guinea pig. Still, I could make real strides here - for both her and myself.

After a mentally draining car ride, I had arrived outside her dorm. I texted her a quick 'I'm here', to which she responded with 'okay, I'll be out soon'. I glanced around, watching a few meandering students return to their dorm from class, being out with friends, who knows? I kind of felt like a creeper, picking up a student like this. My heart dropped in my chest when I caught sight of Gracie walking out.

She looked...dressed up. A black skirt, chunky heels, and a white feminine cut polo shirt. Normally it looked like she threw on comfy clothes over stylish, but I've never seen her wearing clothes showing so much skin before. Was she as excited for this as I was? Did she just want to look presentable?

I waved my hand out the window to catch her attention, she smiled and made her way to my car. She opened up the passenger door and sat down, smoothing her skirt over her legs.

"Hi Mr. Woods!"

"Hey Gracie, you look really nice tonight. Excited to talk about your mind?"

"Yeah, I haven't had proper counseling in years and you're really nice so..yeah, I think you could really help me!"

"Well, I'm awfully flattered you think so. I'm really excited to get started with you."

We made idle conversation on the ride over to my place, normal talk about her history, a little bit of mine, all throughout she seemed happy. I didn't want to see that change.

After a while my wheels crunched over my gravel driveway, through the short path from the road to my garage.

I heard a quiet 'woah' escape her lips as she pressed her face against her window. I had a tudor house surrounded by rich woodland. They didn't call me Mr. Woods for nothing. That was a bad joke, I'm infinitely sorry.

I loved wildlife, it was a certified fact that being close to nature made people happier, so when shopping for a home I did just that. I had to brag, I had good taste when it came to the home. It had taken me quite a few years to piece together all the furniture and decorations I desired in my fairly large home, people's faces always brightened when they saw it.

"You like the woods at all, Gracie?"

She sat back down. "Oh, yes, I really love nature - I've always wanted to live in a forest so I can be close to animals and all the really pretty sounds."

I smiled. "Then we have something in common."

I parked my car outside the garage door and hopped out, Gracie quickly following suit.

I unlocked the door while she turned in circles, taking in my house and all the wildlife surrounding it.

The moment I cracked open the door the incessant barking began. Otto was always insatiable when he smelled a new person. I shoved his head aside with my thigh as I pushed inside. I muttered for him to calm down, grabbing his collar and holding him back so Gracie could enter.
She looked a little frightened, most guests were, Otto was too excitable and sometimes came off as aggressive. Actually, he was very aggressive. I had trained him long and hard not to bite every new person who came into 'his' house.

"Oh wow, your husky is really cute-"

I could barely hear her words over his constant bellowing. I swatted him lightly on the butt.
"I'm very sorry about him, he's so excitable-"

Otto lurched free and bounded over to Gracie, eagerly sniffing and licking any exposed skin she had on her legs and hands. She gently tried to push him away, laughing as he said 'hello'.

"He's really sweet, a bit scary before though, h-he's a big dog..."

"Otto is a very mean dog, actually. He isn't biting or harassing you at all, though. That must mean you're a very good person."

She looked up at me shyly, a faint red rising to her cheeks. "Y-You really think so?"

I smiled down at her. "I know so. Believe me, he's an asshole. Always nips or growls at new people, so you're quite special."

She giggled at that, looking down and playing with the hem of her skirt. I tried to keep my cool, truth was I was a bit perplexed by his behavior as well. He's only been this nice a few times before.

I eventually managed to tug him away to set him free in the yard, leaving us alone in my house.

When I returned to her she was turning in circles again, taking in all my interior decor.

"Your house is gorgeous Mr. Woods!"

"Thank you, I worked very hard on all of it. It always makes me happy to know I did a good job." I gestured to my set of leather couches in the living room. "Would you like to take a seat and we can begin?"

"Sure, where would you like me to sit at?"

"The recliner is fine. I'll sit across from you on the couch." Everything was in place. I sat down and placed my laptop and a small notebook on my lap, getting ready to take notes. I looked at the small checklist written on my screen. I was ready.

"Please, make yourself comfortable, pull up the chair to any angle you need to. I just need you to be relaxed."

"Gotcha..." She fiddled with the chair for a moment, eventually sinking into a comfortable spot.

"How are you feeling right now?"

"I'm a little anxious, but I'm feeling okay. I'm hopeful that if I talk with you I can start feeling good and...stuff." She bit her lip.

I nodded, staring at the checklist on my screen. My heart was practically bursting out of my chest. God, I hoped this worked.

"My methods are a bit unconventional in terms of therapy, but I really do think you'll be able to benefit from them. Just keep your mind open and let your thoughts flow, alright?" I turned on the small desk light next to me, aiming the bulb at her face. "Do me a favor and look into the light as much as you can. The brightness is low, I promise it won't damage your vision. Light often helps open the pathways in your mind."

"O-Okay. I'll try."

"This first little session of ours will be to get to the very root of your problem. Your depression. What do you think caused it?"

"Uhmm...I don't know really-" DING! She jumped in her chair a bit as I rang the bell on the table next to me. In addition to the bell, I strobed the light once, having it flash brightly into her eyes like that of a camera flash. Auditory and visual cues working together would speed things up.

"I'm going to ring this bell and strobe the light everytime you give an unsatisfactory answer. I know it may be startling at first, but we're trying to break up negative thought patterns. Every question has an answer. You do know the answer, deep, deep down. You just have to find it. Alright?"