Titty Touch Therapy Ch. 03

All characters are over 18. This is the third mostly self-contained part of an ongoing series. This part is concluded.

The story centers around an unrealistic compulsive behavior, which leads to situations similar to mind control. There is very little actual nonconsent, but there is reluctance. There is perverted straight and lesbian sex, including piss.

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"Welcome back, Helen!" Susannah the therapist greeted her patient with a smile. "How do you want to start, today? Let's see... Did you enjoy the way we fucked you last weekend?"

Today was Friday, so a full work week had gone by since the buxom, well-exercised 47-year-old therapist and her gorgeous, rugged old husband had used this docile patient to satisfy every perverted sexual fantasy possible. Such weekends had become routine lately.

"I loved it," Helen responded. "I really did. I guess it's sick, but when I think back, everything you do to me feels beautiful!"

She was a cute, timid 27-year-old woman in therapy for some very particular compulsions. She needed to be touched in specific ways, and she needed to be told what to do while she was touched. The new relationship between the patient and couple was a very good compromise, giving everybody something they wanted. The younger woman trusted the older couple to keep her strange obsessions secret. To her, they were authority figures much the same as parents.

Of course, normal parents didn't fuck their daughters senseless every weekend, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Helen was at least happy to feel safe about the whole arrangement.

"Good," Susannah continued. "Come sit closer, so I can reach you!"

Susanna inspired confidence. She was tall and in very good shape for her age. Her face was very beautiful, and her breasts were straight-out imposing. She didn't give off a sexual impression as much as a strict one.

Helen's breasts might not have been as big, but they were more than big enough. They were definitely eye-catching, sporting constant stiff nipples under thin tops.

The therapist reached out, grabbing the patient's warm, soft tit flesh with both hands, massaging, while the younger woman responded with gasps of euphoria.

"You will behave for next week," Susannah instructed. "You will wake up every morning and go to work and feel happy about it. You will handle shopping and cleaning. You will eat properly and take care of your body."

"Oohh, thank you!" Helen gasped in ecstasy. "Mmmhh, I love you! Mmhh, I love doing this with you!"

This was all Helen needed. She was easily Susannah's least troublesome patient these days. Although, how this ecstasy actually worked was a mystery. The therapist suspected there were extraordinary levels of self-suggestion involved, and she was exploring how far the susceptible young woman could push her mental state with the help of touch. So far, there were no limits. Helen obeyed every instruction without thought or hesitation. In fact, Susannah had a new experiment prepared for this weekend.

"So how do you feel about this new therapy?" she inquired. "When we overstimulate you all weekend?"

"I'm happy all the time," Helen replied with a dreaming voice. "I wish we could go on this way forever. I would only meet you guys and people at work until I forgot all my stupid worries."

There were hints of a lustful and almost evil smile on the therapist's face as she offered up a counter-suggestion.

"That's good, but..." she drew out on it. "I'm thinking of modifying your therapy. You could help me with some other patients. You're an opportunity, Helen. You understand the temptation, right? To keep exploiting you?"

Helen was visibly startled at the mention of other patients. What did her therapist mean?

Susannah explained that many patients could benefit from secret, risk-free interaction with a friendly young woman. The most obvious examples were young men with sexual insecurities. Sure, some might be too self-absorbed for treatment, but it could be a feather in her cap to help just a few. And, it would almost be wrong of Helen not to offer herself up for those in need, wouldn't it?

"What... what?" Helen asked, unable to mask the worry in her voice.

Susannah smiled back with the confidence of a woman in complete control of the situation. It started to become apparent that this whole exchange had been a trap.

She had already arranged for a session with 3 young and very inexperienced men. It had been difficult to put it all together, but now it was happening.

"But, I don't want to see new people," Helen protested. "Therapy is going fine, right? Why do you want this?"

"Yeah, it's not fair," Susannah admitted. "To be honest, I just came up with the plan while I was fucking my husband. He and I both get off on... some games. And using you for games is incredibly hot, Helen."

Susannah intended to film the whole thing. And the young men had all agreed to be filmed after her promise to keep the recordings confidential. Helen made a last attempt to negotiate her way out of this, but Susannah barely listened.

"I'm going to do this because it turns me on, Helen," she declared. "Actually, my cunt is a sloppy mess now just from talking about it! Come closer, and I'll show you!"

Helen tried to gather her thoughts. She knew she was one simple titty touch away from losing her free will and any control; this was her last chance to refuse and walk away. But refusing could ruin many things. She still wanted Susannah's help. It was still better to trust Susannah, wasn't it? It was best not to think. So, Helen stopped her stupid thinking and leaned forward in submission once more. Then, she felt the wonderful hand on her tit.

"Does it feel better?" Susannah asked while her patient gasped and panted in relief. "Do you want to hear details while you lick my cunt clean with that hot little patient-mouth of yours?"

Susannah was fascinated, studying the beauty of her patient's face in sexual ecstasy with tears trickling down the cheeks.

"Oohh, pleease," Helen panted, begging for more touch. "I'll do anything! Oohhh, I love you! I really do! Please, tell me what to do!"

* * *

The deed was scheduled for the following day. Helen's instructions said the therapy office would be prepared after lunch, and she returned obediently at 1 AM, knocking on the door, opening it nervously. Her mind was still a confused blur after yesterday's therapy, and she had no real perception of what to expect at this point.

Inside, the usual work desk was pushed into a corner, and instead there was a massage table at the center of the floor. There was a bucket and a mop and other assorted items, including a toothbrush and a strange douche-like contraption.

There was something menacing about how well-prepared the room appeared to be for activities to come.

She took a few careful steps inside and finally looked up at the three guys waiting for her.

Two were lanky, and one was a bit overweight. They were about her age or possibly a few years younger. They all had hair in different shades of dark. One had longer hair and some music t-shirt outside a pair of jeans, and the overweight one had a very boring oversized t-shirt. The one who seemed most out of place was dressed in a shirt and a pair of khakis.

They were all standing by the 3-piece therapy sofa and extra armchair at the other end of the room. A large pitcher of water stood on the sofa table.

"Sorry, we're staring," the guy with long hair said, smiling at Helen. "It's just, you're actually kind of hot. We should introduce ourselves."

The music fan doing the talking was apparently named Jon. The others were named Adam and Marcus, but Helen secretly renamed them Pudgy and Shirt-guy in her head. She hated herself for pigeonholing, but this was the only way she could remember those generic names. Jon Music-guy with his pals Pudgy Adam and Marcus Shirt-guy were manageable.

The trio seemed to have hit the limit of their conversational repertoire after introductions. They had some trouble deciding if they should sit down or stay standing. They seemed unable to figure out what to do with their hands. She could relate.

"So... What did Susannah tell you?" Jon forced out after some serious consideration.

All three stared in a way that made her feel exposed.

"Well, she said you needed to practice on being in female company," Helen replied, weighing every word. "She said you were a bit inexperienced. You needed to practice treating women normally."

"Is that all she said?" Pudgy Adam asked, appearing less than content.

"Yeah, pretty much," Helen said, trying to recall more but coming up blank. "Why? What did she say about me?"

"Well, she told us you have some intrusive thoughts, just like us," Marcus Shirt-guy informed her. "Is it true?"

Helen confirmed this, and you could see all of them relax visibly over in their corner. They appeared to have some trouble believing a normal-looking woman such as her could need therapy. But now, it was possible they had something in common. Maybe she wasn't unattainable. Maybe she was in fact more of a peer.

"It's not so much that we have trouble hanging around women," Jon volunteered. "It's more about intimacy and stress."

"Yeah," Pudgy interjected. "We need some real basic experience so we can at least stop worrying about intimacy games."

"She's said we're emotionally mature," Shirt-guy tried to clarify. "It's just too much, with everything on top of our intrusive thoughts. We had a big meeting this morning, and she told us we're ready to move on."

He seemed to take great pride in accolades from Susannah, and Helen considered informing him that he didn't come off as impressive as he thought. None of them did. Especially Pudgy appeared to be a little too self-righteous.

"So that's what you hope for?" she decided on. "We're supposed to have some kind of intimacy? How about just talking?"

She honestly couldn't remember promising anything beyond coming here and talking. In truth, she couldn't really focus at all on her instructions. The memories just popped up at their own will. Right now, for example, she had a sudden and very clear memory of promising to not use the word "No" today.

"Well, she sort of promised you would be really into... some stuff," Jon tried to smooth things over. "And then, she also told us you would be coy."

As he said it, he got up, and she could see the bulge of an erection in the crotch of his pants. She realized they were all staring at her breasts with petrified virgin cocks. Stupidly, she had just taken a few more steps into the room. Now, the road to safety felt much further.

"She said you were shy," Shirt-guy clarified. "She said you were a bit like us. You protest a lot, and we might have to convince you to some things. But you really wanted to do... some things."

"Yeah, she really promised," Pudgy finally ascertained. "And she wouldn't lie, would she?"

He had a point after all. Helen knew Susannah wouldn't lie. So why had she promised?

The guys noticed Helen worrying. They assured her they would play by the rules. All she had to do was say no! And they pointed out there were cameras everywhere. At least, she could feel sure no one would do anything she didn't want, because there'd be evidence.

"We're here for experience," Pudgy explained with some enthusiasm. "It's an experiment. You've got nothing to lose, right? You'll just give us some confidence with the... you know... softer gender. Don't you want to help us?"

They were all growing eager. They were appealing to her heart and asking her not to be selfish. She knew where this was going. Jon with the hard-on walked around her to the side, and Pudgy got up too. His cock was clearly just as hard, sticking straight out under the jeans.

Yeah, they were all erect. They were boy-wolves, and she was their girl-lamb.

"So... Susannah tells us you had this thing about your breasts," Shirt-guy offered with noticeable hesitation.

Helen froze up with a lump in her stomach, worrying about how much they knew.

"Man, you can call them tits," Pudgy objected. "We're gonna fuck her soon. Let's call them her tits!"

She wanted to object too, very sternly, to all these ideas, but she had trouble finding words. The only thing she could think of was to turn to the door. Jon seemed to have picked up on her impulse and was discreetly cutting her off.

"Yeaah, those are some nice tits alright," Shirt-guy said with new-found courage and excitement. "I can't wait to touch them up a bit."

They were talking about her as if she wasn't there. Jon by the door left her trapped, so she decided to stick to diplomacy. She managed to reiterate that she had only agreed to come here specifically for talking.

Shirt-guy was still in the sofa. His cock had to be pretty big because she could see it tenting his soft pants. He sat in a corner and patted the cushion in the middle.

"Sure, we'll talk some," he agreed. "How about we just sit here and see where it goes? That's nice, isn't it?"

Pudgy smiled in obvious agreement, and then he sat down in the other corner, leaving only the middle cushion free. Helen would have preferred the armchair, but she could read the room. Grinning boy-wolves with hard-ons would only allow their prey the center spot, wouldn't they?

She found herself going over and sitting down with some reluctance. Her thighs were a bit cramped between their legs. The whole situation made her more and more uneasy, and she wondered why she kept making herself go along. Then, things turned almost claustrophobic when Jon took the armchair and sat down close enough for their knees to nearly touch.

Helen was just about to cross her legs in discomfort, but Pudgy put his hand on her thigh, holding it down.

"Do you mind if I rest my hand here?" he asked with an innocent tone. "You're real pretty, you know. I thought I could put just one little hand right here for a while."

Her eyes were drawn to his erection bulge again. Her mind went strangely numb. She could think of several good protests, but a vague memory of some promise made her stay silent. The situation worsened when Shirt-guy on the other side took her hesitation as an invitation to do the same, and she ended up with a hand on each of her thighs.

Jon in the chair leaned up and put his hands on her knees. He did it slowly, looking into her eyes all through the movement, giving her every chance to stop him. But again, she did nothing. She felt hypnotized by his confident smile. She felt embarrassed by her own subservience. Instead, he was the one to start talking.

"You know, we're supposed to practice different forms of interaction with women. It's part of our therapy. For example, now, sitting close, lets us be relaxed near an actual, real woman, without risk of her rejecting us."

While he talked, his hands parted her legs a few inches. She only managed to put up the weakest of fights. In fact, her fighting happened mostly in her own head. Some strange voice inside kept telling her to ignore every instinct and give in to everything these young men wanted.

As her legs opened up, the other guys' warm hands slid down the insides of her thighs. Their eager fingers tried to move closer to the crotch, but there still wasn't room enough to reach all the way.

They wanted more. You could see the bulges tensing and straining in their crotches.

"Please," she tried whispering. "I don't mind talking to you, and I guess it's ok if you touch a little. But I'm not sure this is what Susannah had in mind for therapy."

"Look, we're not really bad guys," Jon tried to argue. "We're just a little horny for you."

"Yeah," Pudgy continued. "Touching you this way is great progress for us, you know. Susannah told us we should practice initiative on you."

"Normally, we get distracted," Shirt-guy clarified. "I can spend forever wondering where to touch a girl's body, and eventually she just doesn't want to be touched anymore. But this feels right."

"Try the hands," Helen offered some helpful advice, but no one really paid attention.

"A lot of the time, I think about touching a girl's hair," Pudgy informed her.

He didn't even give her time to come up with a response. He leaned up close, and then he started to caress the long, straight hair on her head. He was a bit strange about it, as if he was performing a scientific study and she was some kind of specimen.

"Hey, I'm here, you know," she objected. "It feels really weird when you just do that without talking."

"Sorry," he answered with a dreaming voice. "I get kind of obsessive, and I wanted to get it out of my system on you instead of normal girls later. You have beautiful hair, you know."

He was careful, but he continued. At the same time, Jon prodded her legs a few inches further apart, and he started sliding his hand up the inside of her thigh. Was there still a chance for her to get out of this?

"Please," she whispered, trying to deal with the way they were all over her. "Can I leave?"

"No one is really stopping you, Helen," Jon answered dismissively. "We've been told to let go you if you head for the door or if you really protest."

The thought of getting up now, warding off their hands, felt wrong.

For some reason, Helen remembered how Susannah had been very clear about not starting conflicts. The therapist had repeated those instructions in several different ways while squeezing Helen's tits, making them feel so fucking good!

Now, Helen was confused about what she really wanted. In the end, only one plea she could think of rang true.

"I really have to pee," she tried feebly. "You have to let me out to the bathroom."

It wasn't a lie. She really had to go. She remembered gulping down two big glasses of water before coming here. Come to think of it, she even remembered promising Susannah to do exactly that. Helen's memory felt strange and full of holes. Every new situation made an old promise pop up.

"Sure!" Jon promised and actually got on his feet. "I just want a little kiss first. Just a little kissing toll for the bathroom. Can you believe none of us have ever been kissed?"

Before she could react, he leaned in over her so she couldn't stand up. Then, he moved his face in. She had time to back up just an inch, and then their lips met. She felt him trying to slip her tongue.

"Yeeahh!!" his friends applauded. "Give her the tongue, man!"

His tongue licked her lips. She was too stunned to figure out what to do. She even parted them ever so slightly.

"There's one more thing," Jon whispered into her mouth. "Susannah told us to do it even if we had to force you. She promised you would be ok with it, no matter what you said. I think Susannah told us the truth, Helen. Don't you?"

"Please," was all Helen could think to whimper out.

"You have really sexy tits Helen," Shirt-guy informed. "And Susannah promised us we could touch up your tits even if you tried to stop us!"

They were crazed with lust. Jon and Pudgy grabbed Helen's arms with surprising strength, pulling them out to her sides. She only managed a short, pointless struggle before they had her all trapped. Then, they all stared with excitement at the way her tits were sticking out, waiting for hands.

She was always nervous before a touch. But her crotch was already getting wet.

"Oh yeah, I'm gonna do it!" Shirt-guy panted out in excitement.

He put his hand on her stomach and started inching up to the closest bulging, stiff-nippled breast.

"Yeah, do it!" Pudgy encouraged. "Her tits are so fucking fine, man. Just squeeze it a little!"

Jon agreed with fascinated enthusiasm, staring at the hand creeping closer to Helen's tit.

"Please," she tried one last time, and then it happened.

Pleasure emanated from her tit and washed out through her entire body. She felt the squeeze of fingers, and she felt her mind relaxing in little fireworks of relief and ecstasy. She registered what might have been a couple of small orgasms down in her cunt, but they were secondary to the intense satisfaction flooding her entire being.