Archive-name: Control/therapy.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Therapy





CHAPTER 1:



I never thought it would happen to me.  My wife and I have been married for

12 years, and all in all it's been a happy marriage -- at least up until

several months ago.



Nothing happened to cause "our problem", as we referred to it -- at least

nothing that we could identify.  It's just that all of the sudden, I lost

my ability to get an erection.



We read books on male sexual dysfunction, and we tried every exercise we

could, but nothing seemed to work.  A urinolgist pronounced me and my

sexual equipment to be in complete working order, so the next step was for

me to see a sex therapist.



By this time, my wife was pretty adamant that I seek help, and she even

made an appointment for me with a sex therapist in our area.  This

therapist, a woman as it turned out, had a very good reputation and came

highly recommended from several different sources.



I was very scared and nervous when I showed up at my first appointment.

The receptionist was an attractive woman in her early twenties, and this

made me all the more anxious.  It really hurt my male ego for a sexy young

lady to know that I was having sexual problems.  She was gentle and

sensitive, but this didn't do much to help my anxiety.  I was convinced

that her attitude was one of condescending pity.



After I filled out a few forms, the receptionist pointed out the door to

the therapist's office and told me to go inside and sit on the couch.  She

explained that the therapist would be there shortly.  I followed her

instructions and sat down where she had indicated.  The office was

comfortable, and gave me a feeling of well-being.  There was only one other

seat in the office: a large, overstuffed chair several feet in front of the

couch where the doctor would no doubt be sitting.



A minute or two later, the rear door to the office opened up.  I wasn't

prepared for what happened next: in walked the most gorgeous, sexy woman I

had seen in a long time.  She was maybe in her mid-thirties, and she exuded

sex from every pore.  She lithely slithered into the chair in front of me

and said in a kind, gentle, professional tone of voice, "Hello.  You must

be Mr. M----.  I'm Dr. S-----."



I was uncomfortable with the attractive receptionist, but I was downright

flabbergasted at the sight of this woman.  Right then and there I decided

that I wasn't going to go through with this.  I had expected an older,

woman -- someone more like Ruth Westheimer.  My male ego couldn't stand to

have such a desirable woman know all about my painful problems.



I fidgeted on the couch and tried to figure out a diplomatic way to tell

the doctor that I wanted to leave.  But before I could say anything, she

smiled and spoke to me again in that same reassuring tone of voice: "I can

see that you're quite nervous, Mr. M----.  And I think I can guess why.

You seem surprised and uncomfortable that I'm so young."



She gave me a look that seemed to say, "... and so beautiful."



"Well ... yes, I guess I have to admit that I ... well, I expected someone

older and more ... um ..."



"And more experienced?" she offered.



I blushed.  "Well, please forgive me, but ... well, to be honest, I have to

admit that's just what I was thinking.  I guess I was expecting someone

more like ... well, more like Ruth Westheimer or something," I chuckled

nervously.



She smiled calmly and said, "That's understandable, and I'm not the

slightest bit offended, I assure you.  You'd be surprised at how many of my

clients expect Dr. Ruth."  She then added, "But I also want to assure you

that I'm _very_ experienced."



She gave me a look that almost appeared to be a sultry, flirty gaze, but I

just assumed that this was in my imagination.



She told me that my wife had informed her about "what you think is a

dysfunction," as she put it, and that she has a very high success rate with

men like me.  She went on to explain the way she works: she recommended I

see her once or preferably twice a week.  After a few weeks of her

familiarizing herself with my situation, she would begin the "program", as

she called it.  After asking me a few embarrassing questions about my

problem, she gave me some literature for my wife and me to read, and she

told me to schedule an appointment for later in the week.



I almost told her I didn't want to continue, but something about her manner

made me feel that I should.  She seemed competent and sure of herself, and

when she looked at me and spoke to me, I got a strange feeling that she

understood me in a way that no one ever has.



So I decided to give her a try -- at least for a few weeks -- and I scheduled

my next appointment with the receptionist.



CHAPTER 2:



At home after my first appointment, my wife and I read over the material

Dr. S----- gave me.  Most of it wasn't substantially different from things

we read in many of the books we had gotten, but the way it was worded, it

gave us a positive and encouraging feeling about my problem.  My wife was

supportive and happy I was seeking help, and for the first time in several

weeks, she was understanding and patient when we tried again

(unsuccessfully) for me to get an erection that night.



My subsequent visits to the therapist became easier.  After the first two

or three sessions, I was comfortable enough with her so that she was able

to get me to talk about my sexual experiences as a child, and about the

fantasies I had then and now.  Once I started sharing this intimate sexual

material with her, she urged me not to reveal the content of our sessions

to my wife "until you've been able to put all of this behind you," as she

put it.



I told her that this made me uncomfortable, as my wife and I were quite

open with each other.  The therapist replied that this is a very good sign

for me, and explained that openness with ones partner is the key to a good

sexual relationship.  But she added that the techniques she uses require us

to establish a "very private, inviolable bond between client and

therapist," during this stage of our work, and that she would be happy to

write reports to my wife that would keep her satisfied that I was making

satisfactory progress.



This didn't feel good to me, and I told her so, but she was able to convice

me to go along with her requirements.  I again got that strange feeling

that she deeply understood me like no one ever had, and this persuaded me

to yield to her request.



That day, I brought the note home to my wife, and we read it together.  It

was a clinical-sounding report explaining that I was making satisfactory

progress, and that it was essential at this stage that I don't discuss

anything about my "condition" outside of the theraputic environment.  The

therapist stated that we should stop all sexual contact for the next

"several weeks".  She added that if my wife's needs became too strong,

"masturbation is an effective and perfectly acceptable way to deal with

this temporary situation."  I felt nervous when we were reading this, but

my wife seemed to have no problem with it and accepted it without question.

She had already taken up masturbation, and she actually seemed relieved

to be getting support for it from the doctor.



I felt relieved about this, as well, and this made me guilty.  The next few

sessions I discussed my guilt with the therapist, and after a while she had

me convinced that I had nothing to worry about.  "After all," she said

during one session, "you'll get to discuss all this with your wife once you

get past your so-called 'problem', and you'll see that it just brings you

closer together."



By then, I was accepting everything she was saying without reservation.



A few more sessions went by.  By now, I was openly discussing my most

intimate sexual thoughts and desires with the therapist.  I told her about

things I never admitted to anyone.  She was professional, gentle, and

supportive of everything I told her.  Every week or so she'd send me home

with another of her reports to my wife explaining that everything was going

well and that I still shouldn't discuss anything about my "condition."  My

wife never questioned any of this and just went on happily with her

masturbation.



It was then that I started to notice a change.  At first it was subtle, but

soon, it was undeniable: I was beginning to get sexually aroused during my

sessions.  The therapist didn't seem to be doing anything to cause this,

but more and more I was noticing her in a sexual way.  As I'd speak to her,

I'd notice her gorgeous legs or perhaps her full but firm breasts under her

top, and I'd start to feel the beginnings of an erection.  This would scare

me so much that I'd panic, causing my arousal to thankfully dissipate.



This went on for two or three sessions without her seeming to notice it.

But then one day when I was getting particularly aroused and uncomfortable,

she suddenly interrupted what I was talking about and said, "Let your penis

get hard.  Don't fight it."



The fact that she caught me getting turned on filled me with shame and

extreme embarrassment.  I'm sure I turned bright red, and I began to

stammer nervously, "Um ... wha- what do you mean?"



"You know what I mean," she replied gently but firmly.  "You're beginning

to get turned on by me, and I don't want you to fight it."



I protested vehemently and denied everything.  But she was just as firm

about insisting that she knew what I was going through and that if I

expected to "get past this difficulty", I would have to be honest with her

and acknowledge the effects she was having on me.  "All of them," she added

in no uncertain terms.



I argued some more, but after a few minutes she had skillfully broken down

my resistance.  Grudgingly at first, I admitted that I indeed found her

sexually arousing, and that I had been trying hard to fight the realization

of this.



She explained that this was normal and that it was part of "the program".

She calmly explained that her techniques involved a process where she would

"slowly work myself deeper and deeper into your sexual being so that I can

then use my skill and expertise to build up your arousal in a new and

powerful way that I'm sure you've never experienced before.  This will

allow you to not only work through your current, minor sexual difficulties,

but in addition, I will guide you to sexual heights you never thought were

possible."



With that, she paused and looked at me calmly, waiting for me to reply.  As

she was speaking, I felt a strange calmness and security, and I noticed my

sexual arousal returning.  I still fought it, but not as fervently as

before.  After a moment or two, I replied that I was very unsure and

nervous about all this, and I felt quite guilty that she was the one I was

getting aroused with instead of my wife.



She explained to me that this was quite normal, and that now that I reached

this new stage in my therapy, I was well on the way to recovering my

ability to get aroused by my wife.  We discussed this for a while, with her

finally saying, "I assure you that these new heights of sexual pleasure I

will show you will be something that you'll be able to take back home to

your wife -- if you so choose."



Her "if you so choose," left me with a vague sense of uneasiness, but her

calming and intimate manner caused me to forget my concerns.  She then said

that my current sitution is a key stage in my therapy and it is very

delicate.  She went on to say that she would call my wife after our session

and, as she put it, "make sure she doesn't disrupt things."



When she said that, she gave an intimate, almost conspiritorial look, and I

felt myself responding with a more powerful feeling of sexual arousal than

I had felt for her up until then.  She noticed it and added in a soft,

almost seductive voice, "Don't fight the pleasure I'm causing in your

penis.  Let it grow.  Let it get long and hard for me."



I felt a wave of fear go through me, but I felt myself yielding to her

words.  Soon, I had an erection, and it was pushing out the front of my

pants.



"See," she said softly and gently.  "With the right person and the right

stimulation, you don't have a problem at all.  But you're still in the

early stages of this new sexual world I'll be teaching you about.  Starting

next session, your training will begin in earnest.  This is the end of our

time today.  I'll see you next Friday."



With that, she did something she hadn't ever done before: she got up and

walked out of the room.  Usually, she just stayed in her seat as I left.

As she walked away, I was fixated on her ass and hips, which she seemed to

seductively gyrate.  I assumed it was all in my aroused imagination.



CHAPTER 3:



My appointments were in the early evening after work, and I would always go

straight home after them.  It only would take me a half hour or so to make

the drive, and the night of my latest, rather confusing session with Dr.

S----- was no exception.  I drove home without incident, and before long I

walked through the front door of my home.



I was surprised that my wife wasn't around -- she normally watched the

evening news at this time of night.  I called to her without her answering,

and then I figured that maybe she was taking a nap.  But when I quietly

came into the bedroom, I was surprised at what I saw.



She was totally nude and she was thrusting her fingers in and out of her

vagina.  She had a faraway, lost expression on her face, and she was so

absorbed in what she was doing that she didn't even notice me come into the

bedroom.



She was using both hands to stimulate herself, and she was furiously

panting and gyrating on the bed.  With each thrust, she was moaning, "Cunt

... cunt ...  cunt ..."



Although she had been masturbating regularly for several weeks by then, I

had never seen her get this much into it.  Normally, she would just take 5

or 10 minutes to "relieve her urges" as she would put it, and this would

always be a fairly mechanical process.



I felt strangely detached and unaroused by all this.  I just calmly watched

her work herself more and more into a frenzy until she finally brought

herself to by far the most powerful orgasm I had ever seen her experience.

She literally screamed with pleasure as she bucked wildly on the bed and

furiously thrust her hands against her grating crotch.



After a short time her spasms subsided, and as she calmed down, she

languidly opened her eyes and saw me standing there.  "Oh ... hi," she said

absently.  "I didn't see you.  How long were you there?"



"Oh, maybe 5 minutes," I replied, somewhat embarrassed at not letting her

know I was watching.  "I guess I should have said something, but ...  well,

I didn't want to disturb you."



"Oh, that's OK," she replied distantly.  "I doesn't matter."



Her attitude disturbed me.  She always had been shy and modest.  She never

used language like "cunt", not even in the midst of our lovemaking, and she

certainly never behaved so shameless about her arousal.  But what was the

most disquieting was her lack of embarrassment at me seeing her this way --

that was very much out of character for her.



I hesitantly and gently asked her about this change in her, and this caused

her to act as if she suddenly woke up, and she became just as confused

about the whole thing as I was.  She explained that Dr. S----- had called

her and explained to her that I had reached a new, delicate phase in my

therapy, and that she was very encouraged by my progress.  The therapist

went on to explain to my wife that it was more important than ever that

we don't disturb my "delicate balance" if the therapy was to succeed.



My wife was relieved to hear of my progress, and she was very understanding

about this.  She told me that she was about to say goodbye and hang up when

the therapist asked her if her long sexual abstinence was difficult for

her.  She explained to the therapist that it sometimes was, but that she

understood that these things take time.  The therapist then asked her how

her masturbation was going, and my wife said that she soon found herself

sharing all sorts of intimate details about it with Dr. S-----.  She said

that she felt much more comfortable discussing this than she had expected.



I thought to myself that this is just the effect the doctor was having on

me, but I didn't share that with my wife in fear of violating the doctor's

instructions about sharing anything about the theraputic experience.



My wife went on to explain that after a few minutes of openly discussing

her masturbation, Dr. S----- asked her if she was feeling aroused right

then.  My wife replied that in fact she was, and explained to me how she

described to the Doctor how it felt.  After a short time, she found herself

getting more turned on than she could ever remember feeling, and with the

doctor's encouragement, she began to play with herself.  She said that she

vaguely remembers hanging up the phone, and the next thing she knew she was

cumming wildly, and then a moment later she noticed me standing there.



All this was vaguely disturbing to me, but for some reason, I couldn't

focus my mind on what was bothering me.  Then my wife said something else:

"You know," she added with slight confusion, "I just remembered one other

thing Dr. S----- said.  It was right before we hung up.  She said, 'If you

ever find yourself worrying about R---- [ me ], just let it go and give

yourself what I know you need.  He's doing just fine.'  I didn't think

about it at the time, but now I feel kind of wierd about that."



It made me feel uneasy too, as it made me realize what had just been

bothering me: the therapist seemed to be sexually seducing my wife into not

worrying about what was going on between me and the therapist.  I felt

guilty about this, but for the first time in my life, I decided to be

devious to my wife and play dumb.



"What's wierd about that for you?" I asked.



"I'm not sure," my wife said, still a bit confused.  "I can't put my finger

on it."



Apparently Dr. S----- had given my wife some sort of suggestion to not

think or worry about this.  Normally, this would have gotten me outraged,

and I would have rushed to my wife's rescue.  But all I felt was a small

amount of guilt, some vague uneasiness, and a deep sense of relief that the

doctor was seeing to it that my sexual feelings for her wouldn't be

discovered by my wife.



"Well," I replied calculatingly.  "Maybe you were just uneasy because

of the fact that you were talking to her about your masturbation.  You

_are_ rather private about that, you know."



She looked up at me with pained suspicion for a second or two, but then her

expression changed to one of calm acceptance, and she said, "Yeah ...  I

guess that's it.  I guess I'm just surprised that I was so comfortable with

her.  She must be a pretty good doctor, huh?"



I agreed with her cheerfully, and then my wife laughed and admonished me

jokingly not to discuss my therapy, per my therapist's instructions.  She

then dropped the subject and we got ready for dinner.



CHAPTER 4:



A few times over the next couple days I was beset with deep guilt about how

I felt and reacted to my wife that night I had come home and found her

masturbating.  During my next session I discussed all of this with Dr.

S-----, including my suspicions that she had hypnotized my wife to not pay

attention to what was going on in therapy.



To my surprise, the doctor admitted everything.  "Yes, I did hypnotize

her," she said.  "I wanted to keep her from being curious or suspicious

about what we're doing here in therapy, so I gave her a suggestion not to

worry about anything and to accept everything you tell her about our

sessions.  Then, I reinforced this with some very powerful sexual

suggestions.  How to you feel about this, R----?"



"Well," I replied, unsure of myself.  "I guess I'm kind of uneasy about it,

but, well, I don't know.  For some reason, this doesn't bother me much,

although I keep thinking somehow that it should."



"That's very good, R----," she replied reassuringly.  "This means that

you're progressing really well.  But I mean that question to be more

immediate for you."



"I'm not sure what you mean."



She looked at me for a moment, and she then went on.  "OK.  I'll put it

slightly differently for you.  First, take a deep breath and focus on your

body and how it feels right now."



This is something she had asked me to do many times in the past, and I did

what she said.



"Good," she said.  "Now keep focusing on your body and whatever sensations

you might be having, and then think about the question I'm about to ask

you."



She paused again and I nodded.



"OK.  Now R----, answer this truthfully: think about how your wife looked

to you when she was masturbating the other night.  Imagine it."



I nodded.



"Good," she continued.  "Now tell me -- did you feel any sexual arousal

when you saw her?"



I wanted to be able to say I did, but no matter how much I tried, I had to

be honest and tell her that I didn't feel anything like that.



"That's good, R----.  That's very good," she replied, surprising me.



"Now," she continued.  "Think about this, and please answer just as

truthfully."



I nodded.



"OK," she went on.  "Picture your wife masturbating again.  Now, focus

on your sexual sensations, and answer this: how do you feel knowing that

I made her act that way?"



I suddenly felt some sexual arousal, and I hesitatingly admitted that

to her.



"Good.  That's very, very good, R----.  So it really turns you on when you

think about how I made your wife become obsessed with her masturbation and

sexual arousal, correct?"



I sheepishly admitted she was right.



"And it turns you on all the more," she continued, "to know that I also

made her not suspect anything about your sexual feelings towards me.

Right?"



I nodded reluctantly.



"Feel your penis growing in your pants," she whispered hypnotically.



I suddenly noticed that I had a semi-erection that was still growing.



"Yield to the feelings," she droned.  "Everything that happens here

between us is private.  No one will know but us.  Not even your

wife.  And if she ever does suspect, I'll make her get totally lost

in her masturbatory obsession.  Remember how absorbed in her pleasure

she was the other night, R----?"



I nodded, spellbound.



"Well, I can get her even hotter than that, and for much longer," she said.

"I can get her so wrapped up in her obsessive pleasure that I could

masturbate you to orgasm right in front of her and she won't even notice.

Look at your penis, R----.  It's starting to grow in your pants."



I looked and saw myself with the beginnings of an erection slowly pushing

out the front of my pants.  I became quite embarrassed, and I started to

fidget and attempt to cover it up.



"No, R----," Dr. S----- said, gesturing me to stop trying to hide my

growing hard-on.  "Take a deep breath and relax.  Don't fight your

erection.  Let it just happen.  Let yourself show it to me."



I had gotten so that I pretty much trusted the Doctor, and I more or less

calmed down and did what she asked.  I felt throbbing sexual pleasure in my

penis as the Doctor looked at me with an enigmatic expression on her face.



"Now, R----," she said after a moment.  "Your penis is starting to fully

respond again, which should give you cause for optimism about your

difficulties.  But you must also not forget that this is a very critical

phase of your therapy.  It's extremely important that your wife doesn't

interfere, no matter how good her intentions are.  And as I'm sure you

could see, I didn't cause her any pain or discomfort.  On the contrary, I'm

sure I was able to cause her to experience more sexual pleasure than she

ever experienced before."



When she said this, she suddenly looked very sexy to me, and I began to

feel even more sexual pleasure as I sat there.  Dr. S----- seemed to sense

this, and she said, "The thought of me turning your wife on so powerfully

is starting to get you aroused, isn't it?"



I felt fear at her accurate perception, and at first I looked down,

embarrassed to answer.



"Don't fight it," she said, almost in a whisper.  "Feel your penis grow in

your pants.  I want it to get long and very, very hard for me."



I felt myself yielding to her words, and soon I was totally erect.



"That's it," she whispered.  "Now just look at me and feel the pleasure in

your pants."



I looked up and gazed at her.  She was just sitting motionless in front of

me, but there was something about her facial expression or perhaps the way

she was sitting that made her look extremely sexy.  I felt my cock

throbbing.



"Now," she whispered.  "I think it's time for your penis to become soft

again."



With that, I felt my erection slowly subside along with my arousal.



After I was totally soft again, she resumed speaking in her normal,

professional manner.  "It's important that you totally yield control of

your sexual responses to me.  I'm very proud of you, R----," she said.

"You're yielding very well to me already."



I smiled, and then she asked me to continue telling her about my guilt

concering my wife.  She discussed it with me for several minutes,

reassuring me that I have nothing to be concerned about, because, "soon

enough you'll be able to satisfy her again -- if you so choose."



There was that "if you so choose" phrase again.  Again, I felt uneasy about

it, and this time I realized why and told her what bothered me: I was

concerned that Dr.  S----- was somehow leading me away from wanting my wife

any more.  I worriedly told her how cold and detached I was while watching

my wife masturbate in such a hot, frenzied manner, and how I almost

guiltlessly manipulated her to not think about what disturbed her about

what the therapist had told her on the phone.



"It's normal for you to worry about this at this stage of your therapy,"

Dr. S----- replied.  "But I want you to realize that I didn't mean what you

thought I meant when I said 'if you so choose'.  I said that on purpose: I

want to emphasize that your shouldn't feel any performance anxiety about

pleasing your wife.  'If you so choose,' simply means that you are under

absolutely no pressure or time constraints to get hard for her.  It can

happen whenever the time is right, and I'm just trying to encourage you to

let go and allow things to happen more naturally.  Do you understand?"



I found myself wanting to believe her, and I nodded affirmatively.



"Good," she said.  "So just remember that what I did and what I might do

again to your wife is simply in the interest of allaying any fears that she

has, and to keep her from upsetting the delicate situation we're creating

here for you.  If you allow me to guide you through this very critical

phase of your learning, you'll see how sexually rewarding and arousing our

work will be for you.  I'm sure you don't want to jeopardize that, R----,

right?"



I agreed with her.



"Very good," she replied.  "You're really starting to respond well to what

I'm teaching you.  Now that you have so successfully dealt with all this

uncertainty and anxiety, I think it's time for you to move on to the next

level.  Do you think you're ready for what's next?" she asked.



CHAPTER 5:



Dr. S----- was causing me to experience some disturbing but highly

erotic sensations.  She had me both aroused and confused at the same

time.  As I sat before her, fidgeting with uneasiness and at the same

time sporting a raging hard on, she asked me if I was ready for what's

next.



"Well ... I don't know ..." I replied uncertainly.  "I have no idea what

... what the next level is.  But ... well, I suppose I'm ready."



She looked at me critically and then nodded.  "Yes ... I think you _are_

ready.  Now R----," she said after a short pause, "I'm going to ask you a

series of questions.  Some of these questions might make you uneasy or

uncomfortable.  But this is the way you're supposed to feel, and you

shouldn't worry about this.  OK?"



I nodded affirmatively.



"Good.  Now I expect you to answer each question.  I want you to take your

time and answer it honestly.  You might feel like hiding or lying in some

cases.  As I said, this is normal and is to be expected, and you shouldn't

feel bad about it if you feel like doing that.  OK?"



I nodded again.



"Fine.  So because it's perfectly normal for you to want to hide or to lie,

please take your time answering every question.  I want you to take 10

slow, deep breaths after I ask each question before you answer it -- even

if it's a question you're not uncomfortable with, take the 10 breaths

anyway.  Then, answer slowly, carefully, and honestly.  Is all this clear

to you so far?"



I said that it was.



"Good.  And before we start, there's one last thing: don't worry about why

I'm asking these particular questions.  Just remember that I know exactly

what I'm doing, and this is an integral part of your therapy.  Just

concentrate on giving me accurate answers.  OK?  Is all this clear?"



I nodded.



"OK.  So now, here's my first question.  Take a deep breath and concentrate

on looking at me.  That's it.  Now remember: don't rush to answer this, and

be completely truthful.  My question is: would you like to look at my naked

breasts?"



I felt a wave of fear and embarrassment.  I wanted to quickly deny what she

asked, and I felt myself struggling between keeping quiet and blurting out

my denial.  She saw my struggle and said, "Now don't rush to answer.  Just

take a deep breath.  Go ahead.  Uh-huh.  That's good.  A deep breath.  Just

think about my question -- think about whether you'd like to see my

breasts.  Take another deep breath.  Good.  Now remember -- this is just

for your therapy.  Nothing bad is going to happen.  Just think of your

answer -- your totally honest answer.  It won't bother me no matter what

you say.  Now take another deep breath -- that's it."



As she gently and calmly guided me through one breath after another, my

urge to lie and to escape subsided.  By the time I had finished taking my

tenth breath, I was ready to acknowledge my desire: "Yes," I said somewhat

nervously, "I ... I would enjoy looking at your ... at your breasts."



She smiled at me and said, "Good!  See -- that wasn't as bad as you feared,

was it?"



"No -- no it wasn't," I replied, "but it still was very hard.  I felt

myself resisting and trying to ..."



She gently cut me off with a gesture.  "Shhhh -- don't talk about it now.

We can discuss it later, after we've gone through all my questions, if you

want.  It's important that you don't talk except to answer these questions.

OK?"



I nodded.



"Good.  Now, relax and look at me -- that's it.  Now, here's my next

question: would you like to see Karen -- my receptionist -- naked?"



I felt another urge to lie and to deny what she was asking, but this time,

I caught myself and took the 10 breaths without any prompting.  After I had

completed the breaths, I answered, just as nervously as before, "Yes.  I

have to admit that I would."



"That's very good, R----," she replied, giving me another encouraging

smile.  "It's important for your therapy that you're able to honestly admit

all your sexual feelings.  OK.  Relax again and look at me -- good.  Now,

here's the next question -- listen very carefully to what I say and how I

say it, and remember, wait to answer -- take 10 full breaths.  OK?"



I nodded apprehensively.



"OK," she said, her voice becoming coarse and hard.  "Now here's the

question: I made your wife get so hot that she couldn't control herself --

she couldn't keep her hands off of cunt, and she had an uncontrollable urge

to make herself cum more deeply than she ever had experienced before.  You

remember what she looked like.  Now, would you like to see me make Karen to

that in front of you?"



I swallowed and noticed that my throat became dry.  I felt very

uncomfortable as I the thought of what Dr. S----- had done to my wife.

When I thought about Karen doing that, though, I started to feel myself

becoming aroused.  I fought the arousal, but I did what the doctor asked

and took the 10 breaths.  Then, I answered in a small voice, "Yes -- I have

to admit that I would."



"That's good, R----," she said gently and encouragingly.  "That's very,

very good.  I notice your penis is beginning to get hard in your pants

again.  Let it grow long for me, R----.  Let it get really hard."



Dr. S----- seemed to have gotten me conditioned to the point that I would

get hard if she told me to do so.  Soon I had another erection.  It pushed

out the front of my pants.



"That's very good, R----," she said in a quiet, intimate, almost seductive

voice.  "Feel it throb in your pants.  Uh-huh.  Now spread your legs --

spread them wide so that your penis is pointing right at me.  Go ahead --

do it."



I hesitantly did what she asked.  It made me feel more vulnerable but in a

strange way, more aroused as well.



"That's very good, R----.  Now just stay in that position and get ready for

my next question.  OK: do you want to show me your nude, erect penis?"



I started to close my legs and blurt out a denial, but Dr. S----- stopped

me.  "No -- shhh -- don't talk.  That's it.  Take a breath.  Good.  Now

keep your legs spread.  It's OK.  Do it.  Take another breath ..."



She kept up this encouragement until I had taken 5 of the breaths.  Then, I

was calm enough not to require her guidance, and I completed the rest of

the breaths while examining my reaction to her question.  After the 10th

breath, I said, "Well -- I'm not sure.  I don't think so -- I'm scared."



"That's OK, R----," she replied gently.  "I know it's difficult to admit

some of the things you feel deep inside of you.  But don't worry about it

-- you did your best."



I started to argue with her, to try to explain that she was wrong in

thinking that deep down inside I really wanted to expose myself to her.

But she cut me off with another gesture.



"Shhh -- don't fight it, R----, and don't worry.  Let it go.  Take a few

more breaths and let it go.  That's it."



I took a few more deep breaths and noticed as I calmed down that I no

longer had an erection.



"You're doing really well, R----", she said encouragingly after she saw

that I was calmer.  Now, here's another question.  Ready?"



I nodded.



"OK.  Now think about my earlier question: when I asked you if you'd like

me to make Karen get uncontrollably turned on in front of you.  Now listen

very carefully: would you like to squeeze your prick and make it cum all

over her cunt, R----?"



I swallowed, but I didn't feel as nervous.  I knew what my answer would be,

and I started taking the breaths.  But before I got to my third breath, Dr.

S----- said, "You're doing good, R----.  You don't have to take 10 breaths

any more.  I can tell you're getting past your fear.  From now on, just

answer as soon as I ask.  I'll repeat my question: would you like to

squeeze your prick and make it cum all over Karen's cunt?"



"Uh-huh," I answered.



"Good.  Would you like me to squeeze your prick for you and make you cum

all over Karen's cunt?"



"Uh-huh," I said, my erection beginning to return.



"I can see that you would," Dr. S----- replied, now with unmistakable

seductiveness.  "Your prick is growing again.  Let it get really long and

hard for me, R----.  So answer this: would you like it even more if I put

some lubricant all over your prick as I squeezed it?"



I swallowed and answered, "Yes."



"And while I was doing that," she continued, "would you like it if I also

put lubricant all over my finger of my other hand and fucked you in the ass

as I jacked you off all over Karen's cunt?"



"Yes."  My penis was totally erect now.



"Uh-huh," she continued.  "And do you like the way I'm turning you on right

now, R----?"



I said I did.



"And would you like me to turn you on this way every time you see me,

R----?"



I hesitated, but then I had to admit that I did.



"I know you want that, R----.  That's good.  That's very, very good.  Now

would you like to play with your penis right now, R----?"



I hesitated again, but then I tentatively said that I did.



"Uh-huh.  I know you do," she replied.  "Now, I'm going to ask you

something again: would you like to take your penis out of your pants right

now and start jacking off for me?"



I hesitated once more, but I was very aroused, and I had to admit that she

was right on the mark.  "Yes," I said nervously.  "I guess I do."



"I _know_ you do, R----," she corrected.  "Do it now," she ordered.  "Stand

up and pull down your pants.  Now!"



I felt a surge of defiance at her domineering tone of voice.  I just sat

there.



"Don't fight it, R----," she said gently but firmly.  "We both know it

turns you on even more when I order you to do it.  And once you do what I

say, I'm going to do something that will get you even hotter."  Her voice

suddenly became hard again: "Now get up off your ass, pull down your

fucking pants, and jerk off that hot prick for me.  Now!"



I nervously stood up, dropped my pants, and with my hand shaking, took my

penis in my fist and started to pump it.  I felt mortified, and yet

somehow, I was deeply aroused.



"Stroke your big prick," Dr. S----- was saying.  "Make your sperm shoot

out.  This is just the beginning, R----.  Every time you come here I'm

going to make you hotter and more aroused than the last time.  Pretty soon,

your prick will be hard from the moment you see me until our session is

over.  You have no idea how many times I'll make you cum.  Uh-huh.  Stroke

your penis.  Masturbate for me.  Make yourself squirt off."



She had me so hot I couldn't believe it.  I was sweating and panting

and furiously stroking my penis.



She then gave me a lewd smile and began to unbutton her blouse.



"Keep jerking," she was saying.  "Keep jerking and I'll show you my tits."



Soon, her blouse was completely unbuttoned and she took it off and laid it

on the arm of her chair.  Her breasts were full and firm, and I could see

her nipples pushing out through the sheer material of her bra.  She reached

behind her and unfastened her bra, but she held it up over her breasts.



"Now lay on the floor at my feet before I show you my tits," she ordered as

she stood up.  "Do it now!"



I was so hot that I obeyed with only the slightest hesitation.  Once I was

on my back, she straddled me and bent over slightly.  "That's it," she said

coarsely.  "Now aim your prick at your face and jack off all over your

belly.  Come on.  Now!"



I quickly did what she said.  "That's very good," she said condescendingly.

"You love it when I treat you this way.  Now look at my tits and jack off

all over yourself!"  With that, she removed her bra and tossed it back on

her chair.  Her breasts looked so sexy, I could hardly stand it.  She began

to play with her nipples with her fingers.  The sight of this got me more

aroused than I could remember.



"Uh-huh," she said lewdly as I began to cum.  "Uh-huh!  Squirt out your

semen.  Squirt it.  Oooooh, yeah.  Pump it all out all over you!"



Her lewd talk and the way she looked towering over me as she rubbed her

nipples and breasts got me hotter than I could remember ever being.  I

burning wave of pleasure began to fill my groin and began to feel my cum

rising up the length of my cock.



The pleasure was extremely intense as I found myself furiously jacking off

and shooting my semen all over my belly and chest.  It felt so damn good I

didn't want it to ever stop!



--