Titty Touch Therapy Ch. 04

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

WARNINGS: There is not very much nonconsent. There is an incest kink with mentions of prior incest. There is a prostitution kink involving some misogyny. There is pissing. The main theme is similar to mind control or free use. Overall, there is a lot of immoral behavior.

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"So, Friday at last, right Helen?" Susannah the therapist said, greeting her patient. "Did the receptionist leave yet?"

Helen looked back out and confirmed that they were alone for this last therapy session of the week.

The stylish, tall, and very classy therapist opened the top buttons of her blouse, uncovering substantial cleavage. The 48-year-old woman's breasts were impressively big. Her brown hair was tied behind her head, making her as authoritative as she was beautiful. She moved her chair out closer to the sofa, and finally she pulled the skirt of her suit up around her hips to spread her legs better, sitting back, showing the smoothness of her bare thighs all the way up to the black panties.

"Good. You're wearing a bit much, don't you think?"

Helen sat down within reach of a touch, which was beneficial for this particular kind of therapy. She dutifully removed her oversized zip-up sweater, and under it, there was nothing but a half-transparent, silk-thin black top. There was no bra. At 27, there was still a youthful perfection to her large, firm breasts. There were even hints of pink where the nipples peaked out through the fabric between wisps of her long, straight hair.

She didn't really know why she dressed more provocatively lately. There was a lot about her behavior lately that was out of the ordinary. She had a nagging suspicion that therapeutic trances induced by Susannah were involved. It was difficult to remember exactly what they talked about at all times, but there was no point in overanalyzing. Without these session, Helen would have crippling anxiety. With the treatment, her life was dopamine and sweet bliss.

Of course, she was aware that randomly providing sexual pleasure to your therapist wasn't something that was normally expected from a patient. Helen didn't mind so much. She only really thought about it when she was in the moment. And in the moment, everything was dreamlike in the best of ways.

Susannah would be the first to admit to exploring some moral gray zones with this therapy. Doing a good job didn't mean you couldn't enjoy yourself in the mean time, did it?

She casually moved a hand down to her exposed panty crotch and started caressing a finger up and down in a relaxed, habitual way.

"I think the time has come for us to make some change," the therapist said. "We're not progressing. I think we should focus simply on making you happier with the way things are for a while."

She was honest in her intentions to help, but she admitted to herself by now that she was running out of ideas. There were also benefits -- physical and very pleasurable benefits -- to prolonging Helen's treatment.

"Everyone who knows about your compulsions will exploit you, Helen. Have you worked on coming to terms with it? We should talk more about it. I know it makes you lonely."

They returned to this topic regularly during therapy. Helen suspected that it aroused her therapist to talk about prior sexual abuse. Helen was right.

Through her entire adult life, she had been taken advantage of by someone or another close to her. From when she was 18, her father had taken advantage of her intrusive thoughts for his own sexual gratification. Then, her old neighbor had ended up using her sexually when she came to him for help and comfort.

In truth, the therapist hadn't behaved much better. But today Susannah restrained herself, sitting back in calm excitement, caressing her breasts and the panties between her spread legs while Helen opened her heart.

Helen always had trouble deciphering other people's feelings. She was lonely. She was still saddened about knowing no one who actually valued her friendship over using her for physical pleasure.

"I want us to try something," Susannah said, interrupting after a few minutes. "I promise it will be for your benefit. It's important that you stay calm. Will you let me touch your breasts already?"

This critical point in the sessions always came, and you never knew what you were really agreeing to. It could be traditional therapy, or it could be sexual services. Helen was hesitant as usual, squirming in her chair, knowing this was her chance to protest. But she always found it easier to give in. She needed the touch more than she needed control.

The therapist put the palm of her hands on one of her patient's firm, delightful tits with a gasp of delight.

"Aaahh!" Helen cried out the moment she felt it. "Oohh, yeahh! I'm sorry I doubt you! I love this so much! Mmhh, I need it so bad! Oohh, I love you!"

Susannah was always astonished by the reaction. The way Helen would describe it, she was actually having an orgasm right now, throbbing from her tits down to the gushing cunt in her panties. This orgasm cleared her mind. It made her love whoever touched her this way. It made her do what whatever she was told with worship and without question. She surrendered herself completely to these touches, and she was completely addicted to them. It was an absolutely unique compulsion, and it was more incomprehensible the more you thought about it.

Helen kept moaning in response to everything Susannah said while massaging the soft, ample tit flesh.

"It's time to face who you really are, Helen. Mhh, you should make an effort to understand why people need to use you. I think you should try harder to understand the temptation."

In this suggestive trance, Helen didn't suffer any anxieties or inhibitions.

"Aahh, yesss! Oh, fuck, it's good! I love you so much! Oohh, I'll do anything. Mmhhh, pleease! Tell me what to do!"

"You should learn from someone who used you, Helen. I want you to really get to know your old neighbor Isac. I reached out, and he's very regretful. Also, I think it would be good for you to have a father figure in your life again."

* * *

Being back at Isac's door was a strange experience.

This old life was distant now. She trembled with nervousness as she reached for the little button beside the door, which was the same type as to her old apartment below. The sound of the bell brought everything back.

Her 72-year-old former neighbor opened the door with a smile. Apparently, he was expecting her.

"Welcome Helen! I'm so happy to see you!"

He wasn't very big, and his short, slender frame gave him a disarming quality. His white hair looked thinner than before, but there was a new vitality in his face.

He had put his nice shirt on. Helen wore her usual type of provocative thin top without a bra, and she had a good-looking pair of new pants that accentuated her hips.

She walked into an apartment that was almost a perfect replica of her old one. For a moment, she actually thought she was back in the very same kitchen. She remembered him sitting in the exact same type of chairs while she had his wrinkled old cock in her mouth. She pushed these thoughts away and focused on more harmless ones.

It truly turned into a happy reunion. Isac was always easy to talk to. They caught up, talking about everyday life, which for Helen was mostly about going to work and doing therapy. Isac understood, because he knew everything about her compulsions.

Thanks to Helen's sacrifices, he had developed a new energy for life these days. She had inspired him all the way to going out and finding new friends at a sauna place that he had started going to.

"You gave me the spark back," he said. "I mean, I took it from you, of course. I'm so sorry. I promise you can trust me now. Please give me a chance!"

Helen didn't know what to respond at first. Then she realized that this was exactly what she was here to talk about.

"So, Susannah had some topics for us. Do you mind if I start the recording?"

She put up a camera. Susannah wanted Helen and Isac to film themselves while they talked. Isac barely reacted, which indicated to Helen that he already knew about this. She led the conversation in a very detached and professional way, taking a cue from her own therapist.

"Susannah wants me to hear about your thoughts back then. Like, what went through your head that first day, when we had coffee? Did you just decide to use me in the moment?"

Isac paused, looking for a way to describe his thoughts in a way that didn't make him sound horrible. He failed, opting for blunt honesty instead.

"The first time, I didn't mean it. I promise! You kept talking about your father and how he put his cock inside you. I kept imagining it. The thought excited me more and more. I started fantasizing about doing it myself."

On the outside, Helen gave the impression of a very collected young woman, but inside she couldn't fully process the turmoil these memories brought her. Her eyes moved around aimlessly in the room, looking for something to focus on. The entire room was really furnished in a way that was eerily similar to her own old kitchen. It brought back memories of hands on her body and swollen sexual organs, intruding, filling her crotch.

Why had Susannah arranged this? Helen had always excused Isac's mistakes, because she had believed his urges had truly been impossible to resist. Had she been wrong? Had he actively chosen to reduce her to an object only for physical pleasure?

Helen recognized the way her agitation was spinning out of control. She knew she couldn't trust her own thoughts. She needed to put her faith in Susannah's therapy for now.

Isac was getting carried away, talking about her perfect, young tits and fantasies of his old cock going into a perfectly fresh cunt. While he remembered these old sins, the way he looked at Helen started to change. He looked up and down between the breasts and the crotch the way a hungry predator would stare at a helpless, cornered little rabbit.

"I just decided to try your tits," he said in conclusion. "I didn't even know it would work. I just knew it might be my last chance to ever in life touch a young pair of sexy, firm tits. I couldn't pass it up."

At this point, Helen withdrew on instinct. Her nipples were stiff now and extremely visible through her top. Isac noticed. His crotch had a swollen lump in it, and Helen knew his little cock was as hard as it could get in there. He was definitely horny, but he acted respectfully and didn't make her feel threatened in any way.

She still wanted to show him proper respect. She had more questions for Susannah's film. This time, Helen's voice was tense and apprehensive.

"So, I guess I understand the temptation. But what about the second time? You made a promise. Why did you decide to use me again even after you promised not to?"

There was a distant stare on his face, thinking back to the blow job. The memories appeared to bring him a mixture of shame and excitement.

"I don't have an excuse," he admitted. "I just really wanted to try your mouth. I couldn't stop thinking about a suck-job. It was such a turn-on, watching your lips moving, talking to me while you were all unsuspecting."

He paused, looking Helen up and down again. His excitement started to take over, becoming more blatant, and she tried to protest through another accusatory question.

"Is that what you were thinking while I was trying to make conversation? How my mouth would feel on your cock? How you would make me swallow sperm from your old testicles?"

He realized more apologies were needed.

"I'm sorry. But, yeah. I'm ashamed. I wanted to give you help and support, I promise. I knew you needed it. But after a while, I got too horny to think straight. I just really wanted to spurt out into your mouth."

In spite of her objections, Helen wasn't overly upset. Her recollection of his hands on her tits put a wondrous shimmer over the whole experience. She could also feel herself getting wet from the memories. She managed to stay calm, throwing in a few digs at him while she pried for more detail.

"So, what did you think about while I had your cock in my mouth? Did you care about me at all? Was I still a person? Was I ever more than just a whore to you?"

"Well, I'm sorry," he said, repeating himself. "I said those things, but I... really respect you as a real person too, Helen."

There was no apology that could help this situation. He had to keep up the brutal honesty.

"I don't know why it felt good in my cock when I used those words to you. I'd never dare to talk that way to a normal woman. But with you, it was ok. I knew you wouldn't mind after I touched you. There was a freedom to it."

Helen could actually appreciate this answer. It was honest, and maybe it didn't dehumanize her completely. Also, she didn't feel threatened. Sure, he was excited, but he left her with some sense of control, which she was grateful for.

They were almost done now. To her shame, the memory of their last incident had her cunt soaking through her panties with raw arousal. As exciting as a memory could be, she didn't want to risk repeating the episode, so she made sure to keep her distance with her back to the door while she asked the final question.

"But, the last time? You really promised. And still, you made me feel like I was just an anal hole for your cock. That was no impulse, was it? You tricked me through a day. I still remember how brutal it was, forcing itself in back there."

Isac seemed to consider his options. There was a long, agonized pause before he responded.

"I'm sorry. It's just... I always had fantasies about female assholes. You gave me the chance of a lifetime. Doing it gave me a sense of fulfillment I never thought I would achieve."

His talk of fulfillment made Helen feel a very strong need to object.

"But isn't there more to life?" she said with a loud and upset voice. "How can putting your cock one time up my... insides be the only thing that makes you fulfilled?"

Isac had no replies anymore.

"I don't know," he finally forced out. "I just... I guess I need therapy too."

* * *

By the session on Friday, Helen's old neurosis was resurfacing. It was several days since she was last touched.

"I need you to do it soon," she begged. "I feel bad about everything. I feel bad about Isac. I made him feel bad, and then I left. I didn't ask him almost anything about his new life. I'm a bad friend."

Susannah had some slight objections to the way Helen saw things.

"You made him apologize, which was a good thing. You were right to trust your feelings and leave before it got out of hand. You saw how happy you've made him. You saw your power to make people's life better, didn't you?"

This threw Helen off.

"Doesn't everyone have that power? Everyone can make others happy. Why are you talking like it's only me?"

"It doesn't have to be you," Susannah agreed. "But you're above hang-ups and inhibitions. One touch of your breasts, and you're ready to satisfy all of our needs. You offer complete freedom to us, which turns us on. Can you see?"

While she said that, she discreetly wriggled her skirt up to spread her legs. She slid a finger in between them to her dark and visibly wet panty crotch. She smiled in delight, keeping her eyes on the semi-transparent and very thin fabric that covered Helen's breasts.

Helen couldn't focus on anything but her need to be touched, but Susannah had more to say.

She explained how almost all her patients secretly wanted a human fuck-thing for some reason or another. Isac was no exception. He could keep himself together and help Helen if she needed it, because he was a good man at heart. But he could easily slip up and relapse. In Susannah's assessment, he would fall for temptation if he ever saw a chance to use Helen's body without causing harm or suffering any consequences.

"I think it's important that you go back there one more time. We need to investigate if he holds back out of respect for you, or out of fear for me, don't we?"

Helen didn't feel ready to go back. She wasn't prepared to face the harsh reality of Isac being just as lecherous as he had once been. She wanted to keep seeing him as a friend, and she tried explaining to Susannah.

"But you can't be friends with someone you never meet, Helen. A relationship takes work. You have to trust him to respect you or accept that he doesn't. Maybe you'll find that no one does. Maybe that's what you'll have to accept."

Susannah fingered herself more blatantly now. She revealed a final part of her plans, and at the time time she held up a hand, offering a choice between acceptance or frustration.

"This time, I will give him some new instructions. Mmhh, you will make sure to record it all. Aaahh, I will need to watch the film at home in bed to, mmhh, really take it in."

The desire for touch overwhelmed Helen, and she moved closer. Susannah's hands grabbed the young tits and gave them firm squeezes. Helen cried out in climax over the instructions she was given, promising to follow them all.

Susannah leaned back and spread her legs wider, raising her crotch. She smiled as she put her fingers inside her own panties for the finishing touches.

* * *

Next morning was Saturday, and when Helen rang Isac's door again, he opened up dressed in only a robe.

She had a pair of regular, boring jeans, but as usual there was nothing boring about her top.

The long sleeve mesh shirt was too sheer for its own good, and she didn't wear the camisole you were supposed to have beneath. With the light at the right angle, you could make out details down to the pink creases of her stiff-nippled areola under the stretched, semi-transparent texture.

This was the way she dressed on instinct when she was nervous. She didn't understand the inner workings of her psyche, but accentuating her breasts made her get herself out the door. It had some additional consequences. Isac didn't take his eyes from her nipples for one blink while he welcomed her.

They sat up the recorder. It was a wide-angle camera made for surveillance, so they could move around a bit and still stay in frame. Helen knew from watching the last film that image and sound was excellent.

Isac offered her coffee. Things stayed pleasant.

"I understand this visit is another part of your therapy," he said. "Your therapist told me some surprising things. I have to ask what you expect from this meeting."

Helen wondered what surprising things he had talked about with Susannah.

"I really don't know," Helen replied. "I'd enjoy it if we could keep it respectful the same way as before. I think Susannah wanted more of your honest feelings and fantasies about me. I agreed, because... you know why."

Isac smiled in sympathy. He knew very well how to make Helen agree to things.

Helen felt a strange urge to clarify with brutal honesty.

"She has this idea to tempt you to slip up today. She wants you to get turned on, so you have to fight to hold back. She wants me to see if you really respect me."

It probably wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie. Maybe this way of putting it would help him keep his control, Helen thought.

"So, it's important for your therapy that I tell you my fantasies about you? And it's important for you personally that I show respect and don't touch you."

"Yes," she said. "There has to be a way to do it all neutral-like. You describe fantasies about me, and I just listen. Your thoughts are supposed to be private. This situation is not normal, so I will make efforts not to get upset."

They sat down very formally at different sides of the table with their legs crossed. Isac sipped his coffee, and he looked Helen up and down. His eyes lingered a little too long on her breasts, which made her feel self-conscious. Then he started pouring out his heart.