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Steve's therapy session

By Landers
published February 12, 2020
1910 words
Published on:

A therapist with the ability to control his client’s minds has some fun.

I thought it would be interesting to make this a community series. Please follow the rules set by this website. Otherwise, be creative and have fun.

Steve sits in the lobby waiting for his therapy session. He feels comfortable in his new three-piece suit, black satin with a red shirt and a nice shine to the whole outfit. He sits there, checking the time on his Rolex watch and wondering how much longer he has to wait. It says 5:35, 5 minutes after his appointed time. He doesn’t know why he’s so impatient, just that he is. I just want to get this over with. Steve justifies to himself. His black leather shoes tap in the floor as he leans his elbows on his thighs and clasps his hands.

“Mr. Hobbs, Dr. Kobb is ready for you.” The secretary says.

“Finally.” Steve mutters under his breath, standing up and grabbing his briefcase before heading to the door. After a soft buzz, it unlocks and he walks down a hallway to his therapist’s office. When he approaches the door, he sees Dr. Kobb, or Walter as he prefers to go by, sitting at his chair writing some things down on a note pad.

“Steve, nice to see you. Take a seat, make yourself comfortable.” He says in a friendly manner. Steve does as instructed, sitting down and sprawling his arms on the couch cushions. “So, how have you been?” the doctor asks.

Steve pauses for a moment. His heart rate goes up and he feels nervous for some reason. “Good.” Steve responds.

“Did you notice anything different the last few days? Any changes to your behavioral patterns.”

“No.” Steve responds. He can’t understand why that question doesn’t sound weird to him. Something in the back of his mind says something wrong, but Steve can barely access it, and an even stronger urge is telling him to ignore it. Almost like it’s just a tiny whisper somewhere in his subconscious.

“Good.” The therapist says. “So,” he puts his note pad on a side table. “Protocol 1, please.”

Steve immediately gets up and walks over to the therapist. He didn’t understand why, or what was going on, and he didn’t think to ask until he’s over the therapist, planting a passionate kiss on the man’s lips.

“What’s going on.” Steve asks lustfully. His hands grip the arm rests on the chair as he leans in for another passion-filled kiss. His dick immediately hardens and the therapist grabs onto his waist, pulling his body in closer.

“You really don’t remember? Either I’m that good, or you’re that weak willed.” The therapist says, panting.

“Remember what?” Steve asks, a mixture of confused and aroused.

“Remember our last session.” The command echoes through Steve’s mind and a flood of memories spill forward. Last time he was here, Steve was forced to take it up the ass. He was forced to enjoy it. Steve remembers the pain, the pleasure, the feelings of helplessness and domination. And he remembers Dr. Kobb implanting commands before making him repress everything. Tears start streaming down Steve’s face as his hips thrust into the chair, part dry humping the air and part trying to touch his therapist’s body. Walter leans back, reclining the chair and making it easier for Steve to get on top of him.

“When I count to three, I’m going to snap my fingers, and you’re going to cum harder than you’ve ever come before. 1…”

“Wait-wait-wait-” Steve says, trying his hardest to pull away.


“Please, stop-”


Walter snaps his fingers and immediately Steve’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Cum explodes out of his rock-hard dick and spilling into his underwear, coating the inside of his thighs and causing a dark spot to show up on his pants as it leaks through. The firehose of cum rushes through his shaft, sending an intense wave of pleasure to shoot up his spine and light the back of his head on fire. Steve’s breathing becomes labored and the intense feeling overwhelms him.

“Again.” The therapist says, snapping his fingers. Steve didn’t think it was possible for him to cum again, but he felt his body squeeze out another load of cum. His hips involuntarily rub themselves against Walter’s lap as more cum forces itself out of Steve’s dick. His six pack abs tighten, his thighs stiffen, and his ass clenches, as if trying to push out every last drop. “Again, only this time more pleasurable, and more powerful.” The therapist whispers into Steve’s ear.

Steve begs, out of breath and with desperation. “No, please. I can’t take it. It hur-” Walter snaps his fingers and the wind gets knocked out of Steve’s lungs as his entire body stiffens. It shouldn’t be possible for him to cum three times in a row, and his body knows it. But he’s filled with an intense pain and a euphoria twice as powerful. He feels his prostate squeeze, like someone’s hands are massaging it, and the last of his load drips out of his now softening dick.

Steve’s head falls onto Walter’s shoulder as he begins sobbing.

“Stop crying and get up.” Walter demands. Immediately, the tears cease and Steve pushes himself up. “You loved it. Stop telling yourself you only did this because you had to. You love being a filthy cum machine. Say it.”

Ashamed, Steve does as commanded. “I love being a filthy cum machine.” Steve says, eyes fixed at the floor.

“Look at me, in the eyes, and mean it!” Walter said forcefully.

“I love being filthy cum machine.” A mix of anger and lust come out in Steve’s voice as he repeats himself. This time, he feels the words echo in his mind and heart.

“Good.” Walter says. “Since you loved taking it my meat up your ask last time, I figured this time we should mix it up a little.” He unzipped his fly and a rock-hard dick sprung out of the opening. “Suck me off and love it.” Steve’s heart drops as he falls to his knees and feels his head lean forward to the throbbing cock in front of him. His mouth opens and he effortlessly engulfs it. He wants to gag, and feels his teeth rub against the skin.

“Don’t use your teeth! And breath out of your nose.” Walter orders with a somewhat irritated tone. Steve’s body immediately responds, sucking his cheeks in to block his teeth and rubbing the shaft with his tongue. Steve can’t exactly describe or explain it, but he loves the feeling of his lips wrapped around Walter’s dick; the sucking motion, the feeling of dick filling his mouth. He didn’t know if the command made him like this, or if he would have liked it before, but he loved the feeling and didn’t want it to end. Steve closes his eyes to savor the feeling. His heart races and he moans out of pleasure. Walter’s breathing intensifies as his panting quickens. “Fuck, you’re good at this.” He says. “Drink every drop of cum.”

Steve can barely hear the command, but it still implants in his mind. Walter’s hips thrust his dick further into Steve’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat and flooding his mouth with cum. Steve’s body immediately takes it all in, swallowing it all. He almost chokes from the amount of cum sliding down his throat, but with careful breathing through his nose he’s able to drink up the warm sticky goo. Steve keeps sucking, trying to get every last drop out of the dick like it’s trying to slurp a milkshake through a straw. All the semen gets sucked off the inside of his mouth through the process when his therapist lets him stop. Steve falls back, disgusted by what just happened, and even more disgusted with himself that he enjoyed every moment of it.

The therapist puts his dick back into his pants and sits up. “Leave the money on the table. Now, go to the bathroom down the hall and get yourself cleaned up, and don’t talk or contact anyone before you leave. After that, you’ll forget everything that happened here. You’ll leave the office feeling happy and will only remember that this was a good session. You’ll continue to dress in satin suits, and for casualwear, let’s add some tight workout cloths to the mix. You want to show off that hot body, after all. And on that note, be a little bit cocky. You’re a handsome fucking stud, and you know it.”

Steve stands up and just looks at the man intensely. “You’re a sick fuck, you know that?” He says in anger. The therapist smiles as Steve pulls out the cash and leaves $500 on the table, then heads to the bathroom.

“Come back same time next week. Same price.” Walter adds before the door closes. Luckily, Steve packed an extra pair of pants and underwear. Now that he thinks of it, and with his memory temporarily restored, this was the reason why. He heads to the bathroom, the cum now getting cold against his skin. Once in there, he takes off his pants and uses some toilet paper to roughly clean himself off. Enough so that another stain won’t form on his new pants. He flushes the sticky toilet paper down the drain and puts on the clean underwear and pants. It all feels so robotic.

Before he leaves, Steve washes his hands and looks at himself in the mirror, resigned to the fact that he doesn’t have free will anymore. The way he dresses and feels, what he does, are all out of his control. The pain, the pleasure, the humiliation. He feels helpless, but also disappointed in himself about how much pleasure he got from it. A part of Steve blames himself, thinking that he secretly wanted this, and if he fought harder, he could have escaped. Then the guilt of cheating on his wife kicks in. How will I be able to face her after this. He thinks to himself.

Steve wonders if it will really work again. If he could really be forced to forget everything that just happened after he leaves. But as soon as the door opens and Steve exists the office, he forgets. His mind goes blank. Must have lost my train of thought. He thinks to himself. A smile creeps alone his face. That was a great therapy session. Looking forward to coming back next week.

He heads to his luxury car and adjusts the mirror to show his reflection. “Damn, I look good.” He says, checking himself out in the mirror. He feels his muscles and rubs down the rest of his body. Before going home, Steve decides to stop by a clothing store to buy some tight-fitting workout cloths. He didn’t know where this newfound confidence came from. Maybe it was the therapy session. Maybe it was always there. But in any case, Steve thought it was about time he got some comfortable clothes that show off his body.

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