Sissy Therapy Story - The Home Stretch

Still haven't settled on a title for this... the end coming soon!

Session One

• Michael

“I feel alone. Lost.”

The words hung in the air between me and the gorgeous therapist on the other side of the desk. I hate to admit that I chose her from the list of therapists I found online because of her beauty, but that was the truth of it. Now that I was here in her office, the reality of her beauty made it difficult for me to tell her the truth. I f I didn't, I would be breaking a promise to myself. I knew I was unhappy and I knew I had to find a way out of that unhappiness before it drove me crazy. And that meant I would be honest. Even if it meant the woman across the desk could judge me. That was her job, wasn't it? To judge and advise?

“You feel lost how?” she prompted.

Did she knew the way she tapped the end of her pen against her pouty lower lip made it more difficult to answer? Women as hot as Rachel Collins never seemed aware of the effect they had on others.

“I get up, I go to work, I come home. Rinse and repeat. I know I'm young, and I should be out having fun with friends, but that's my problem. I've never been very good at making friends. I heard somewhere that the friends you make in college are the ones you have for the rest of your life, but I never made any. I graduated two years ago and I still haven't met anyone I would call a close friend. And definitely not a best friend.”

“What about co-workers?”

I shook my head. My hands were on my knees, kneading them nervously.

“You do work in an office, right?”

“Sure,” I agreed, “but it's a bunch of cubicles crammed together. The woman on the other side of mine is in her fifties. One of those women with a lot of pictures of her cats and some bible verses cross-stitched to decorate.”

“What about sex?”

I blushed at that.

“What about it?”

“Any girlfriends? Random encounters? Where do you find sexual fulfillment?”

I shrugged. My hands abandoned my knees and found one another, twisting and gripping.

“Are you a virgin?”

“No,” I said. Maybe a little too fast. “I had a girlfriend my freshman year of college. She was an art student. A little weird, but I liked her.”

“Why do you think that didn't work out?”

“I don't know.”

That was honest, at least. Carrie was odd, sure, but I think most creative people are. She dragged me to some exhibits and movies I never understood, but she was pleasantly chubby with a great smile and big breasts that I was fascinated by. Our sex life was unremarkable, other than it was my first. I don't think she found me very attractive, and our sex was tolerated rather than embraced on her part. I told Dr. Collins all of that. I halted, I stammered, I twisted in the overstuffed chair across from her, but I let it all out.

Instead of the freeing feeling of having unburdened myself, my cheeks warmed and I looked down at the floor.

“You feel ashamed,” she said, stating the obvious. “Why? Because your relationship didn't work out? Because it wasn't perfect?”

“I don't know,” I said.

She tapped her lower lip again. I wondered what it might be like to kiss those full lips and dared my eyes away from her. She was ana eclipse, a thing I could not look at directly lest I be blinded.

“I would like to try an unusual kind of therapy with you, if you agree to it. The important thing is that you do agree to it. It doesn't work without that.”

My eyes moved from the cream carpet, a color that matched her suit and the whimsical scarf around her throat, to Dr. Collins.

“What is it? Scream therapy or something?”

“Hypnotherapy,” she said.

“That's not real, right? Like making someone think they're a chicken?”

“You're thinking of Vegas acts and comedy clubs. But the premise is the same. Hypnosis doesn't work unless you consciously agree to let it. But it has been very effective in patients who embrace it. Patients like you.”

“What's a patient like me?”

“Lost. Directionless. That was your own diagnosis. If you give me permission to access your subconscious, I am sure we can give you some purpose. But you have to let me in.”

I thought of vampire movies, of floating figures scraping at a window, begging to be let in. Never in the history of cinema was it wise to invite a stranger inside.

“Yeah,” I said. “Sure. If you think it will help.”

Her smile lit up the office and warmed those chilly parts of me that felt completely alone.

“I promise it will. We'll begin at the next session.”

• Rachel

Rachel finished her notes on her last session of the day and leaned back in the comfortable desk chair. It cost a small fortune, as did most of her furniture, but her career and side projects kept her well-funded. She strained to hide her enthusiasm for the new patient. He was perfect. And that scared her a little. Almost too good to be true. He was incredibly vulnerable, and she was poised to take delicious advantage of him.

She willed her hands to stay away from the heat between her legs. If she thought too long about Michael Holcomb and his weaknesses, she might be unable to resist pleasing herself in the office. Natalie might walk in to deliver the schedule for the following day. Not that it would matter much. Natalie was one of hers, after all. One of her special projects. One she decided to keep.

Why should she deny herself? A new project meant new opportunities, new ways to experiment and play. Rachel opened the intercom to the exterior lobby.

“Natalie. Come in here please. I need to release some pressure.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the secretary replied, and the connection closed with an electronic click.

In a pair of breaths, the door to Rachel's office opened and the pretty red-haired slut entered. She paused, locked the office door behind her, and removed all her clothes save for a matching pale blue lingerie set, complete with stockings and garters.

Rachel turned the chair slightly so that her legs were freed from the desk. The skirt of her business suit was short and easily lifted to expose the luxurious pale silk panties beneath. She closed her eyes, head tilted back. Natalie moved soundless ly to the chair and knelt at the therapist's feet. Delicate hand's rested on Rachel's thighs. Natalie's tongue delivered a languorous lick up the surface of Rachel's underwear, applying a teasing pleasure.

“Such a good slut you are,” Rachel praised. “But no teasing. Mistress needs release.”

Rachel assisted her devoted secretary, pushing aside her bulging panties and freeing the thick cock within. Natalie took the cock by its base and devoured the tip, taking the shaft deep into her mouth before releasing and licking the papery flesh. She was an expert cocksucker, trained for months and now practiced for years. She was Rachel's third project and the first to endear herself. Now, she used her formidable skill to turn Rachel's shecock from hard to steel, the trans woman's balls tightening under the weight of her obedient doll's tongue.

“Open wide,” Rachel ordered and Natalie obeyed, extending her tongue like a pink runway.

The jism shot to the back of Natalie's throat, but the trained girl did not falter. She remained stone while Rachel finished in the secretary's mouth and across her chin. Natalie knew to remains till until she was told otherwise, and Rachel straightened in her chair when the last of the cum leaked from the tip of her cock. She wiped the last pearl across Natalie's lips. The way the semen rolled slowly down to the tip of her chin pleased the therapist. Natalie had no will left to resist any command Rachel might give. In fact, dripping with her Mistress's cum was as close to Heaven as Natalie knew.

“Good girl. Go clean yourself. Bring the car around. I'll be ready to leave in ten minutes.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Natalie rose, gathered her clothes, and exited. Rachel enjoyed the creamy flesh on display and the tight ass of her servant as it swayed on her way out. Her mind cleared now that she dispensed with the lust brought on her by her decision to make of Michael whatever she desired. There was no buyer for this one. At least, not yet. This was for her own pleasure. The slim young man had all the makings of the perfect sissy slave. He need only be guided to his new identity. Fortunately, Rachel was an excellent guide.

Session Five

• Rachel

It was so hard to know when the subject was ready. They might say they are, might even suggest it with the droopy look on their face when the induction began, but until they fully submitted,s he could not plant the seeds for her special project to flourish.

Michael had almost two months of sessions behind him, as if that in itself meant he was ready. No, each subject was different and each a unique puzzle to solve. Candice, who was Rachel's first sale, rushed into her obedience like a charging horse. Holly, a more recent project, took almost a year before the suggestions rooted and bore fruit. And even the signs of acceptance could vary wildly from project to project.

“You see before you a set of stairs,” she said.

The blinds were closed and the metronome winked as it swung and interrupted an LED light shining at the crown of it. The steps induction was an old reliable, and one that she could do with little thought. It was a trance she induced on autopilot. Despite her boredom with the practice, it was effective in early stages of any project. It was easily understandable and provoked relaxation and calm. It informed trust. And it gave Rachel some access to the deeper parts of Michael's mind.

This would be his third trance, and he proved himself to be an accepting subject. While he still clung to his mental defenses, they were beginning to crumble. More accurately, he was disassembling them and allowing Rachel more and more access to his inner self. The core of his being. The person most spend their entire lives hiding from the world. She didn't have all of him, yet, but she saw glimpses of his deepest self.

“Four. Feeling so light and free, your body more relaxed with every step down.”

Michael's shoulders were slumped, his eyes half-open. His mouth sagged and hung open a bit. As she recited the induction, Rachel found herself distracted by the pink tongue hiding just inside his open mouth. How long would it be before that tongue lapped at her cock?

“One. All the way down. Completely relaxed and open.”

It was time again to probe. To see how much resistance remained. Questions that would seem innocuous enough, but allowed Rachel the opportunity to test Michael's ability to receive and internalize commands. Most importantly, for Michael not to remember. Once he could be controlled, the project could begin.

• Michael

I floated. I swam on a sea of nothingness. I rested on clouds. Above me was a starless sky, dark, but not lonely. It was here in this place that I felt most connected. To myself. And to Dr. Collins, who insisted I call her 'Rachel,' but I couldn't bring myself to display that kind of intimacy.

She spoke to me, her words loud and powerful in my haze. She asked me questions about my life, about my home address, about my job. And I answered. She told me it was easy for me to answer her, and so it was. It helped I understood our doctor/patient confidentiality, and so I knew what I told her was private. But I trusted her as a person, too. She was kind and open and her words were so soothing, even if I wasn't completely focused on them.

She asked me about my life, details that should have been embarrassing, but I answered anyway. Dr. Collins told me how good I was for answering when I told her I jerked off every day. It was sort of my nightcap, a way to rinse away all the pleasures of the day. She told me I should feel good for being so open and honest with her, and I did. I really did. My heart lifted in my chest and I felt a happy little tingle roll over me like a wave slipping up the beach, staining the sand dark as it stretched and receded.

When she spoke, it was like her voice came from far away and inside me all at the same time. It was a disorienting feeling, but I liked it. And when she told me how good I was at trancing for her, it brought that happy feeling again, that happy wave sliding up my body and lingering before it withdrew.

She told me that I dodn't have to pay attention, so long as I agreed and did what she asked. That was easy. I wish every job was as easy as 'do nothing,' but I managed to do the nothing she asked. She told me to hear her words, but not to focus on them, and it wa shard at first. I would answer when she asked a question and she would ask me to go deeper and deeper, and I did.

Going deeper was a lot like sinking, falling into a warm and deep black. It wrapped around me like a blanket. Finally, I found her words coming, going straight at the center of me, but I didn't have to respond or react. I was an observer to my own mind, and Dr. Collins's questions flowed right past me. Whips of light, like passing the sodium lamps on the highway at night. Bright streaks that exist for an instant and are gone.

“And one,” she said.

My eyes popped open. She was staring at me, her eyes dark and shining.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Great,” I answered. It was true. One of the best parts of hypnotherapy is feeling like you've had the most restful nap in the world when it's done. “I really zonked out there,” I chuckled, “I don't remember anything after the bottom of the stairs.”

“You did very well,” she said. “You've come a very long way. I think you'll find that these next sessions will be very helpful. Unfortunately, the time is up. See Natalie for the next appointment.”

“I will,” I promised.

“Good boy,” she said.

That wave again, happy and warm, washing over me and receding. I left the office with a smile, and not just because I could flirt with Natalie again, who was adorable. I'd made Dr. Collins happy, and that made me happy, too.

• Rachel

She had him. Whether Michael was naturally submissive or not no longer concerned her. She had surrendered his will to hers, and his mind was now her playground. After taking him into proper trance, she prodded at his resistance and found that he had no will to resist her, but neither did he know how to allow her power over him to manifest. So, she taught him.

There was always the same caveat with hypnosis: you cannot make someone do what they do not want to do. But you can create an environment in which what the subjects wants to do and the behavior one wants to see in that subject become one and the same. That meant baby steps. A little nudge here and a poke there, and Michael would eventually be the perfect subject.

Already, he accepted her directions to trust her. So much so that she could bypass his conscious mind completely. She spoke directly into Michael's subconscious and bypassed the resistance. That did not mean a trigger left behind would work without question. If his behavior was too bizarre and uncharacteristic, the whole thing would fall apart. Baby steps.

For now, she left behind only the most innocuous of instructions. One, he would feel physical pleasure when he pleased Rachel. Two, he would feel that same pleasure more intensely when she called him a 'good boy.' The final one was also simple, but it would prove that he was ready to carry out some real-world tasks on the heels of her suggestions. If that held, the real work could begin.

The first fissures in Michael's will had turned her on, and she called for Natalie again. This time, Rachel had her bend over the desk and expose her peach of an ass, spreading them wide for her Mistress. Natalie grunted when Rachel eased her lubricated cock into Natalie's clenched hole. She was deliciously tight. Rachel took her by the hips, well-manicured nails pressing red crescents into her fleshy sides, and thrusted. At first slow, but faster and more urgently as the climax rose inside her.

Rachel imagined it was Michael, but not the weak-willed, lonely boy who left the office moments before, but the one he would become. The sissy slut that would rival Natalie in beauty and obedience. She imagined Michael surendering the last of himself to her, abandoning any desires of his own besides those Rachel instilled in him. Her grip grew tighter and Natalie cried out.

The sound of her secretary's whimpering hurled Rachel past the point of control. Rachel squirted inside the sissy, her cum painting the interior of Natalie's ass before she withdrew with a slick plop.

“Clean,” Rachel commanded.

The leaking slut turned to face her Mistress and fell to her knees, worshiping and cleaning the shrinking phallus before lapping up the semen that dripped onto the floor.

“Good girl,” Rachel said, easing up the bottoms of the pantsuit.

Natalie shivered, her response to those two words nearly orgasmic in its power. Soon, Michael would know what that was like, too.

Session 8

• Michael

I still couldn't call her Rachel. It wasn't because I didn't feel close to her, oh no. We'd been doing a session every other week for four months now, and I trusted her as much or more than anyone else in my life. That presumes that there was anyone else in my life, which was laughable. I was still going through the paces of work, and doing as good a job as I'd ever done. But it was Dr. Collins I thought of. I was developing a crush on my therapist and that was probably a bad thing, right? I kept meaning to bring it up in our last session, but then she started the trance and I disappeared for a while again. By the time I woke up, the session was almost over and I felt so damn good, there didn't seem much point in ruining it by bringing up the uncomfortable subject of my inappropriate feelings about her.

Not to bury the lead, but the therapy was working, too. I might have an unhealthy focus on Dr. Collins, but I was happy for once. After one of the last sessions, I was consumed by the urge to shave off my fuzzy goatee and return to her with my face smooth and clean. The next time I saw her, she was overflowing with praise at my new look and came around the desk to touch my cheeks, running her long, elegant fingers over my cheeks and chin, holding my face in her hands like a child.

I was obsessive about it, even. By the eight session, I was shaving twice a day sometimes, eager to keep myself baby-smooth from the neck up to get more of that necessary praise. She called me a good boy again, and the sound of those words made me twist and squirm and blush. Was I falling in love with her? I found myself wondering. I never bothered to answer the question. I knew. And disrupting the sessions I looked so forward to didn't seem like the right path toward feeling better.

When Dr. Collins began the induction, I slipped easily, sinking under the waves of that happy and dopey feeling, letting my brain detach from my body while she spoke to the deepest parts of me. The parts of me I was beginning to suspect belonged to her, even if I could never tell her.

• Rachel

He was wonderfully pathetic, as most men were. Men loved to put on a brave face, to pretend that they were made of steel. But the foundations of masculinity were weak. Most male personae were propped up by notions of strength and aggression and, of course, heterosexuality. If one began to chip away at those supports, the fundamental identification as 'male' was easy to question.

Rachel was pleased to find Michael smooth-faced and eager to please her. When she complimented how hairless his face was, his cheeks burned bright and his gaze fell bashfully away. She could see he wanted her to be pleased with him, and that would make all the difference. His locus of control was shifting away from himself and into Rachel's lap. A lap that stirred with lust when she saw the early stages of his submission.

The inductions, thankfully, required little effort now. With hints toward his mind opening and accepting her words, Michael relaxed quickly, sagging in his chair while he listened and responded. Once she knew he was deep, she could begin the next stage of his transformation. She worried it was too soon, but his fading will inspired her to take the gamble.

“Michael, I want you to tell me if you enjoy pornography.”

A hesitation. She winced, a momentary break in her otherwise stoic facade.

“Yes,” he said. His voice was still faraway and characteristic of his trance.

“What kind of pornography do you enjoy? And please remember that there is no judgment here. As long as you are being open and honest, I am pleased with you.”

That urged him on, and he answered more quickly: “I like seeing blowjobs. Especially the cumshots. It turns me on.”

“Of course. Women giving pleasure to a penis is very exciting, isn't it?”

This was almost too easy, she thought, suppressing a chuckle.

“Yes,” he said. The sound was half-sigh, some image from his late night porn marathon leaping to mind, no doubt.

“How often do you watch pornography?”

“Maybe every few days. Not all the time,” he said. This might have been a defense, a way to make Michael seem less lecherous. She would love to hear his thoughts when she delivered her next instructions, aimed directly at his subconscious.

“You should watch more, Michael. Every night before bed. It will relax you and make you feels oft and happy to masturbate to images of women giving their partner a blowjob. Your day won't feel whole unless you end it with an orgasm derived from a woman giving a blowjob. Will you do that for me?”

“Yes,” he agreed, his eyes dim and unfocused, “yes, that will be easy.”

“Of course it will be. Doing what I say is so very easy for you. You may remember this instruction if you like, or you can keep it locked away from your waking mind. Whatever you choose, Michael. Will you thank me for allowing this, Michael?”

“Yes, thank you, Dr. Collins.”

Another test. She was afraid he would balk, but he was slipping easily into her grasp. Baby steps, she reminded herself. Not too fast. She didn't want to break him. Yet.

3.

Michael

I fell into a happy routine between sessions. On my work days, I shaved in the morning and again when I returned home. Maybe it was because Dr. Collins praised me when I kept my face so smooth, but I never allowed my cheeks and chin to get scruffy. I started shopping online for more permanent solutions. Nothing too crazy, but the idea of keeping it clean without the hassle of all the shaving appealed to me. While I was shopping for ways to keep the hair away, I also found some creams for men that would moisturize my skin, too. My cheeks were positively silky.

After my shaving was done, I might read or watch some television, but that was a way to kill time before I went to bed with my phone. Once I was in bed and relaxed, I allowed myself to sit in the darkness and uncoil the tension of the day. When I was at my most serene, I opened an incognito browser and dialed up the best blowjob videos I could find. I worked my cock while puffy lips slid along veiny shafts, the slurping, sucking sounds like a lullaby. Not that I hadn’t enjoyed masturbation before, but these masturbatory exercises were mind-alteringly delicious. Every orgasm was an explosion and I was left tingling all over.

I retired to bathroom, checked my face for hateful hair, cleaned myself up, and went to bed.

On the weekends, when there was no work to interrupt me, I masturbated three or four times a day. My record was seven. Unfortunately, that left me raw and chafed and made it more difficult to jerk off the next day. That taught me a modicum of restraint and an appreciation of proper lubrication.

I don’t know that I was less lonely, but I was intoxicated by the endorphins released by my orgasms and fueled by the thought that I was making Dr. Collins happy with my adherence to her suggestions. And I looked forward to the next, allowing myself to go deeper into trance every time. It was easy, now, for me to forget everything but entering her office and waking up at the end of our session. And I didn’t have to worry about what happened in between because I knew Dr. Collins was there to help me. Trust is a hard thing to come by in this world, but I trusted her. Why wouldn’t I?

Session 13

1. Michael

Sometimes I am so stupid. Dr. Collins pointed something out today, and I can’t believe it never occurred to me before. I have been so caught up in keeping my face shaved and smooth that I never considered what it would feel like if I did my whole body! Stupid, right? Dr. Collins asked me if I enjoyed having such soft skin, and she complimented me on my skin care routine. Not to brag, but my skin might have been as flawless and glowing as hers. She asked me if I ever thought of extending that to the rest of my body so I could feel the same pleasure but, you know, all over.

The first time was the most difficult. I had to carefully shave all my nooks and crannies and get rid of a whole lot of hair on my legs, stomach, and chest. I can’t believe how much hair come off of me! I had to pause and clean the drain in the shower several times as it accumulated into wet piles. The first time might have taken three hours when it was all done, but the results were incredible.

If you are a guy, you might not know how strange and wonderful it feels to have entirely hairless skin. I shaved the pubes, my legs, my ass… The only thing that remained was the hair on my head. Once that was done, I applied lotion to myself all over as Dr. Collins suggested. She knew more about these things than I did, and showed me how great her legs looked by stepping around the desk and hiking her skirt to mid-thigh. While there was nothing expressly sexual about the display, I was reminded of how gorgeous Dr. Collins was, and I probably stared too long at her exposed leg. When I looked up from her hiked skirt to her face, she was smiling down at me in a way that said she knew what I was thinking, but didn’t judge me for it. In fact, she held her skirt up another few seconds for me to get another long look before her skirt fell back to her knees and she returned to her seat on the other side of the desk.

Was I hard? Oh my God. Then again, I felt like I lived in a state of permanent arousal. My life was lived in the spaces between the orgasms while watching some gorgeous slut swallow a hard dick. When I closed my eyes, I could hear the unmistakable sounds of enthusiastic fellatio. The backs of my eyelids were movie screens upon which the finest in cocksucking was projected.

I’d been with Dr. Collins for over half a year. I didn’t remember the content of our sessions at all, but I was happier than I’d ever been. My body felt sleek and seal-smooth, graceful ina way it never had. While I didn’t have a girlfriend to speak of, I had Dr. Collins. I looked forward to our sessions together, knowing at the end of each that I would feel better and somehow more myself, whatever my ‘self’ was. She was my sherpa, guiding me to the perfect realization of myself.

2. Rachel

She had him. The way his gaze fixed on her leg, his unrepentant stare, was all she needed to assure herself of his devotion. He was so horny for her, he could barely think. Good. That was her job. She would do the thinking for the both of them.

Already, he was shaving himself, applying creams and lotions to make his skin soft. He couldn’t see it because Rachel instructed him not to see when he regarded himself in the mirror, but Michael’s skin and hairlessness was giving him an androgynous appearance. While not the end goal, hi growing femininity made her loins ache for him. But not yet. He was not ripe. She had further degradations to heap upon him before he would be her perfect pet.

With his lust for her a given, she needed to make a simple nudge in his sexual preferences. Already, the image of women performing fellatio was a preferred trigger. But no the object of that fellatio would change. For Michael to become hers, he must adore her in all facets, including and especially her sexuality.

For his lucky thirteenth session, she dropped him fast. She wanted time to play in his subconscious. He was an eager subject and fell quickly for her, laying his mind bare for her. When she had him deep, she began her probing, edging him closer to her desires.

“I want you to tell me what you like about those blowjob video you enjoy so much.”

Michael did not hesitate. “I love how desperate they look when they’re sucking cock. They are total sluts, you know? Not a thought in their heads but pleasing the guy.”

“Yes, that is very sexy, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he agreed, drifting at the end as he often did in trance. It was easy for him to slip into his fantasies in this state, already dreamlike.

“What is the least enjoyable part of these videos for you?”

“I don’t know, I like it all, I think.”

That wouldn’t do, not for her needs, so Rachel gave him a gentle push.

“Do you like the hairy men in the videos? Would you say that you are attracted to men?”

“No,” he said, perhaps quicker than his usual dreamy responses.

This was typical. Gay panic was alive and well in the hearts of most American men, and it was an easy lever to use in her sessions.

“Would it be better if the cocks in your videos were owned by something other than these gross, hairy men?”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“Wouldn’t it be better, then, if you found video of girls performing for trans women? Imagine how sexy it is when two hot women are in the same video, only one of them has a cock to suck. Isn’t that sexy?”

“Yes,” he agreed again.

“In fact, I think the only videos that will satisfy you in the future are those in which a trans woman is receiving oral sex. I want you to accept that all the way down to the bottom of your heart and mind. There is nothing sexier than seeing a trans woman being pleased by the sluts in your videos. Repeat that.”

Michael paused, only long enough for him to form the words before speaking them. “There’s nothing sexier than a trans woman being pleased by the sluts in the videos.”

“That’s right. That’s very good. You are such a good biy for me, Michael. You make me so happy when you accept these things. And accepting what I tell you makes me pleased, and pleasing me makes you so happy. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, I love to make you happy.”

“I know you do. And watching videos where sexy sluts please trans women makes me so happy. Jerking off to those videos, only cumming when you see these women sucking shecock, that makes me very happy, too. Only being able to cum when you’re thinking of or watching trans women being pleased is the best way to please me right now. Will you do that for me?”

“Yes, Dr. Collins.”

“Good boy.”

Simply stating it wasn’t enough. She had to repeat the instructions several times, coaxing him to repeat her direction until it would feel like it was Michael’s idea to have these fantasies. Once her new instructions were securely fixed in his subconscious, she went about the work of erasing the conversation from his mind.

She led him up the mental stairs, waking him slowly. He did not jerk to attention like one might see in the movies, but instead blinked more quickly and stirred in his chair until she saw that he was completely awake.

“Wow, are we done?” His eyes were on the clock behind her desk.

“I’m afraid so. Time flies. How do you feel?”

He bounced his palms on the arms of the comfortable chair. “I feel great, like always. I probably shouldn’t say this, but it’s worth every penny to feel this relaxed twice a month.”

“And your mood?”

“Better. Great even. I don’t feel anxious like I was before. And I even feel…” He trailed off, cheeks brightening with embarrassment.

“Go on, you can tell me.”

“I know, it’s hard to talk about sexual stuff sometimes. Or maybe it’s hard for me to talk about feeling good. My head gets so mixed up. But I have to admit that I have been feeling… sexier… than I ever have.”

“That’s wonderful, Michael. Feeling good about yourself is important. I feel like we are making progress. What about you?”

“Yes, definitely. Like it’s okay to be me. To be open about sex and all my other feelings.”

“Wonderful. And you may find that you will be drawn to new things, new experiences. As we get deeper into the core of who you really are as a person, you may be surprised to find that there are things you didn’t know about yourself. That’s all part of the process.”

“I understand. I’ve been embracing those changes.”

“I can tell. Your skin looks incredible.”

More blushing, but he didn’t look away. Good, she thought, he was taking pride in the changes she provoked in him.

“Time’s up, Michael. I’ll see you in two weeks. Until then, embrace this new you.”

3.

I don’t know why I aimed my search there in the first place, but I have made another breakthrough. Maybe I was getting a little bored with my routine of coming up and searching for the usual videos to make me cum. Whatever the cause, I tried something a little different after the thirteenth session. I put a little spin on the whole blowjob thing, and started searching for hot girls blowing trans women. I was stunned by how quickly I went from curiosity to fill-on lust. It made sense, right? Instead of one hot women, here are two hot women, only one of them had a dick to suck.

I took my time with it once I realized how much it was turning me on. I made sure I shaved myself completely so that I was nice and smooth. My clothes tickled the freshly shaved and moisturized skin. Then I slipped into a big pair of shorts, big enough that I could stroke myself while I was watching and not shove the waistband down. I lost myself for fucking hours doing that. Bouncing from video to video, slowly stroking myself, keeping myself all nice and hard while I watched. It was only after I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I worried that my dick was going to get chafed again, that I allowed myself to climax. The load I spilled over my fist was one of the biggest I’d ever produced, and I had to jump ion the shower after to clean myself up.

Fuck, it was hot. Even after, my mind kept going back to the images, the sexy woman with a yellow tube top pushed up to show off her tits. Those breasts were likely the result of hormones and some augmenting surgery, but they looked great. She was beautiful, right down to the staff between her legs. The girl sucking her was a biological woman, and she fingered her pussy while she sucked the girlcock. That was the video that really spun me. It was both bookmarked and playing on repeat in my head.

I wanted to tell Dr. Collins about it. I wondered what it meant that I was abandoning any of the videos with guys in favor of the trans women in the new clips. Was I going gay? Had I always been gay and never known it? Maybe that was the reasons I could never make a relationship work. That was a question that could wait for Dr. Collins. All that mattered was that I felt comfortable enough to tell her. I hoped she wouldn’t judge me too harshly, but the thought of keeping a secret like that from her was crazy. So I would spend my days in my usual routine, only with the added wrinkle of shecock dancing in my head. There were worse ways, I decided, to spend a day.

Session 14

1. Rachel

There is nothing like the look of a man when he realizes that his fantasy is attainable. Michael had no idea that Rachel was his fantasy, not that she was programming him to find her irresistible, but at the top of the very next session, Michael revealed his new fetish in an avalanche of stammered words and jumbled excitement.

“I don’t know what it says about me,” he explained, “but I can’t stop. Like, all I think about now when I’m having sexual fantasies is a woman with a dick. Sometimes I get so horny at work, I have to excuse myself to the men’s room and rub one out so I can concentrate on anything else. I’m starting to worry that maybe I’m getting obsessed. And maybe not in a healthy way.”

Rachel made a show of sighing and closing her notes.

“I’m afraid it may be my fault,” she said.

“Your fault? How?”

His eyes widened and he leaned forward, anticipating her words.

“You say that you have fantasized about trans women. I expect you know that I am.”

The look on Michael's face was comically surprised.

“But you are so-”

He stopped himself. Rachel wondered how the sentence might have ended. Sexy? Convincing? Regardless, she knew he was stunned and, beneath the surprise, aroused.

“I don’t make it a public thing. Nobody’s business, after all. I assumed you know. It’s not uncommon for a patient to project attraction onto their therapist. I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to lead you on. Maybe it would be best if I gave you the name of another therapist.”

She leaned forward, opening the long desk drawer. There was no secret book of therapists inside, it was all theater. It had the desired effect.

“No!” Then, at a lower volume, “No, please. I have come such a long way with you. I can’t imagine starting over with someone else. I promise, I had no idea you were transgender. I hope what I said doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable? Michael, you have confessed to me that you see trans women as women. And attractive women, at that. I don’t think I could be more comfortable. Maybe it’s a bit awkward, you confessing you attraction to women like me, but no more than if I were a biological woman and you told me you were attracted to them, too.”

It was subtle, the way she phrased it, but she would have him say that he preferred a trans woman over a biological woman.

“I guess,” he said. “So, we can continue.”

“I think so. In fact, let’s start at the top of the stairs…”

2.

Michael

I felt so nervous. My heart was alternating between crying out in joy and sinking. Dr. Collins assured me there would be no change in our relationship, but that wasn’t true. Now that I knew her true nature, it was all I could think about. She was gorgeous. Her long red hair, her creamy skin, the way she dressed to highlight the rise of her breasts, the soft features of her face. All of it was beautiful, maybe the most beautiful woman I knew. And beneath the skirts she often wore, a cock like the ones I fantasized about.

It wasn’t like I wanted to suck her shecock the way the sluts in the videos did, but it was still a shock to think that my new fantasy was made flesh in the woman I trusted most. I wondered if she preferred men, or if she was a trans lesbian. Since starting my searches for trans videos, I discovered that a good portion of trans women were attracted to women. Maybe she liked guys. Maybe she could like me.

That was an idea I entertained, but had to push down for fear of it taking over. I knew I was attracted to her. Dr. Collins was beautiful and knew intimate details of my life. It was true I didn’t want to risk our professional relationship because of my stupid fantasies. But there was no world in which the fantasies could be repressed.

The very next time I watched my videos, it was Dr. Collins I saw as the recipient of the blowjobs slurping across my screen. It was her long hair that flowed down a bare torso, her lips that opened to release a moan of pleasure. And I came harder than I ever remembered, visions of Dr. Collins in my head.

Session 17

1. Michael

How difficult it was to maintain myself when I was in the office with Dr. Collins. Thanks to her, I knew I was attracted to trans women, or at least to one trans woman, and I knew that I was changing. Over the past few sessions, I noticed how casual it was for me to remain shaved, how sensual it made me feel. I don’t know that I would make the leap into calling myself confident, but I had a swagger I never possessed before.

Dr. Collins told me that I revealed something unusual in our sessions together. Nothing overt, not like I came right out and said anything. My behavior, she said, suggested that I was naturally submissive in a relationship. I honestly hadn’t had enough relationships for me to counter the idea, and so I went with it. She knew better, as she usually did.

When I asked what that meant, she told me I had nothing to worry about it. It didn’t make me a bad person or anything. It just meant that I preferred it when someone else was in charge. That I liked it when someone made decisions for me, as long as I agreed with the decisions. Not like I wanted someone to tell me I had to let all my itchy hair grow back or something.

She tapped her finger on her lip as she thought after telling me this, leaving me in silence to think about that. And how gorgeous her lips were. I know I was doing the whole ‘attracted to my therapist’ thing, but Dr. Collins was hot and had lips that would drive any man crazy.

“I want to try a little experiment, if you are game for it.”

“What experiment?” I asked, wriggling in my chair to sit up straighter.

“Let me take you into trance first. I want to see how you really feel about the thing before I suggest it. If I do and I’m wrong, it could be very uncomfortable for you. I need you to trust me, though.”

“Of course I trust you,” I assured her, leaning forward.

I was practically coming out of the chair to let her know whatever she did was fine with me. I trusted her more than my own family. Dr. Collins understood me, better than anyone else in the whole world.

“Good,” she said and gave me a smile that practically jump-started my erection. I did my best to hide the fact that Dr. Collins turned me on more than any woman I’d ever known, but I saw her smile sometimes, and I knew that she knew.

Coming up from trance was gorgeous. I felt so good, so free, and I longed to be back under again as soon as I could. Maybe she was right, if I was so eager to let her erase me for a little while. Not only did I not recall what happened when I was under now, I didn’t want to remember. It made me all kinds of hot to think I might tell her anything and everything. I was an open book, so long as she wanted to flip through my pages.

When she led me down this time, I dropped fast and hard. When I woke up again, I was back in my car and headed home. Well, not directly home. I had a small detour ahead of me.

3. Rachel

The hardest part was restraint. It was so easy for him to go under, and he fell so very deeply. He was clay in her hands, and it took an exercise of will to prevent herself from thrusting him into his new existence. It was better to savor it, to enjoy the changes in him. But she craved more, and she would have him take one of the biggest steps. It was a potential breaking point, if he still had enough will left to resist. She spent so long making the very act of trancing for her an erotic act, something to be longed for, that she wondered if he could resist any command she gave him while under hypnosis.

The seeds she planted to make him crave her words bore malleable fruit. She rose from behind the desk and came close, kneeling next to Michael’s chair. A hand rested on his. Never had she been so close when she worked. When her fingers made contact with Michael’s skin, he gasped. His back arched with the sudden intake and then he settled, his body limp under her barest touch.

“Michael, I want you to think of something for me.”

“Yes,” he murmured.

She suggested to him weeks ago that he should always agree with her unless it conflicted with his essential nature. Fortunately, his essential nature was in flux, and progressing toward her desire.

“I want you to think of all that she cock you’ve been watching. It turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” Almost a gasp. His body was alight under her fingers. She let them drift up his arm, petting him like an obedient pet.

“Of course it does. Because it's part of you. You love shecock more than anything. It's your biggest turn-on now, isn't it?”

“Yes,” he assured her.

She made him repeat it for a while until he was squirming., His body begged for far more than the silken brush of her nails against his hand and arm, but Rachel allowed her reach to go no further. Always there, always teasing. Just enough to keep him distracted, further fragmenting his focus until his will was spread wide for her.

“And now, there is something new to learn about yourself. I have noticed it and you trust me to tell you the truth, don't you?”

“Of course. You never lie to me.”

“That's right. You make me so proud and happy, Michael.”

She gave him a special slow brush of her nails. His body arced like lightning.

“And you have accepted that you are a submissive, haven't you?”

“Yes,” he said. No emotion attached, a simple statement of fact. Perfect.

“Is it possible you identify with the girls in the videos you like? That you relate to them? That, just maybe, you want to be them?”

A subtle-but-there furrowing of Michael's brow, but only a flicker. She stroked his arm again and the troubled look was gone. She ran the questions by him a second time. He didn't respond right away, but the troubled look was gone. The third time, his lips moved. The fourth time, he agreed. By the tenth, he was freely repeating his new mantras:

“I identify with the girls in the video. I relate to them so much. I want to be them more than anything in the whole world.”

Again. Again. Again.

Question. Let the mantra serve as the correct response. Reward with strokes, further deepen. Further reinforce. Further reward. Michael was a drooling mess when the session was done, before she brought him up with his new directives humming along below the surface of his conscious mind. He would never be the same again.

• Michael

You know how you do something and it just feels... right? That was my whole week following the Breakthrough Session, as I liked to think of it. I always felt good when I came out of trance days with Dr. Collins. This one was special. A had a whole-body hum that I couldn't ignore. I was horny beyond measure. As soon as I left the office, I was aimed straight home so I could get out of my clothes and get my ass in front of a screen so I could start jerking it to my girlcock addiction.

I was using my phone in bed, stripped naked and on my knees while I rubbed my cock. I was making circular motions, not gripping it like normal, but rubbing it like an oversized clit. It felt so fucking hot. Grinding against my fingers while I leaked, two-finger strumming my hard clitty while I watched some hot slut suck off a beautiful trans woman. I was panting and squirming, but I wanted more.

I refined my search: same scenario but now the girl doing the sucking was a sissy boy. That lowered the number of results, but the ones that turned up. Oh my god. Some of the sissies were as hot as any girl. And even the masculine ones, all made up and stuffed into lingerie, were hot in their own humiliated way.

I had a go-to playlist in no time and the rubbing started all over. Only this time, I was pure animal. It felt like I was in heat, rubbing my clitty, imagining it was me in the video, sucking the dominant shemale's thick cock. By the time I squirted, which was no time at all once II found my rhythm, I knew a few things about myself.

One, there was nothing hotter in my mind than being a submissive to a dominant shemale. That was like the well from which all other things grew. I wanted to find a hot trans woman and be her slut. I know, I know, Dr. Collins is what I'm describing, but she is still my doctor. She's always been very professional, and I would never cross a line with her.

The other thing I realized is that the idea of being dressed up like a girl while I was satisfying the aforementioned slutting around for a domme shecock, even better. And that's when the spending spree happened.

I would never have believed how good I would look in a dress. Turns out I have a pretty good ass, and I found some online videos that will help shape it up even more. Some for my waist, too, if I wanted to get a more hourglass shape, which I totally did.

Following some indulgent clothes shopping online, I went down a rabbit hole of makeup tutorials and basic styles for my rather pale skin tone, and, naturally, more shopping occurred. It sucks to wait, but it was only a matter of days before I suddenly had this whole different wardrobe. A whole different life.

During the weekdays, I was still the same old me, which was pretty much invisible to everyone around me. But at night and on the weekends, I became this whole other me. This totally audacious, hot, whorish version of myself while I watched my videos and rubbed myself, body smooth and lotion-slick, pleasuring myself though my luxurious pale pink panties.

Did I imagine sometimes that Dr. Collins was the shemale in charge in the videos and I was that soft sissy between her legs? Sure. But that was forbidden, which I suppose only made it more alluring. I wondered what she would think of me if she could have seen me at my most debased, the pleading whimpers that came out of me the second before I squirted into my panties. God, I'm such a weak little slut. And I love it.