Apr 20, 2009

The Therapist: Part 3

I looked into his eyes and could see the fear and fascination there. I looked familiar to him but just as equally foreign. He turned his head to the side to get a better look. He lifted his chin, looking down his nose. I did the same. It was hard not to.

He didn't recognize that we were the same person. He always thought of himself as a man but he didn't know that there was a girl inside of him.

Me. I'm that girl. I've been with him all of his life. He's caught glimpses out of the corner of his eye, as if I were standing behind him, just out of sight, but he hasn't looked me in the eyes... until now.

I'm Wendy. He's Michael. He used to call the shots, keeping me trapped in a well deep inside of him until Dr. Herzog helped me escape. Since then I've been making my presence known more and more in Michael's life. I come out fully when she puts him into a hypnotic trance, yes, but there are other ways I make my presence known. If he realized it, Michael would see that he holds his drinks with his pinky extended daintily. He'd hear that his voice has gone up a bit in its pitch. And he'd realize that his mouth waters a little bit whenever he sees an attractive man.

I'll admit it. I'm a cockslut. I've got a voracious appetite for it. Every time the phone rings at Michael's place, I get a little shiver down my spine, hoping that it'll be Dr. Herzog on the other end of the line giving him his trigger word to release me from my masculine bonds. When this happens, it's Michael that fades into the background while I step into the spotlight. I feel like a star. I'm the center of attention at the Herzogs when I go to their place.

There are times, like this, where Michael is given the chance to confront me. To see himself for what he should be. Tonight Dr. Herzog invited me out and let Michael see me. It was time that he and I had a little chat. The more he tries to deny that I exist, the more difficult it's become for me to come out, despite all of the hypnotic conditioning Dr. Herzog has put in place for my ease of entry into the world.

"Why do you resist me?" I asked him, my mouth forming a perfect little pout. I could see this because he could see this.

"I... I don't want you around. You're ruining my life!" he shouted. I noticed that he avoided any sibilant sounds. I'd gotten him lisping ever so slightly like Cindy Brady. He knew this because I knew this.

"Am I really? Is that what you think? You've seen the world through my eyes and lived it the way I want to live. Isn't that better? Haven't you had fun? Hasn't it been super?" I just had to add that last part to give him a good sissy lisp.

"No!" he whined. "I don't want any part of it! You're making me do things I don't want!"

"Like what?"

"Everything! The clothes! The way I act!"

"The way you feel about men?"

"Yes! Especially that!"

"Oh, don't be coy. Don't try to tell me that you don't enjoy that. I've been with you all your life. I know everything you've ever thought and all of your fantasies. I've been there as you've jacked off thinking of the jock who saw you naked at the gym. I've felt you get hard while watching porn, not because of the women but because of the men. I'm simply doing all of the things you've always wanted to do but never would."

Normally I'd be concerned if a patient of mine were having such a heated conversation with themselves while staring in a mirror. Yet, this is exactly how I knew this would happen. I had found Wendy inside of Michael during an early hypnosis session. I could picture her as a little girl, a lost urchin starving and shaking from fear hidden amongst trappings of macho bullshit that Michael had piled on over the years, trying to keep Wendy repressed.

I found the little girl and helped raise her, so to speak. I knew that her presence was the key to Michael's personality and so many of the issues he couldn't resolve. How could he? He was denying himself -- much like he was dong now.

Tonight I hoped to resolve some of the conflict between the masculine and feminine sides of Michael's personality and allow the feminine to win. I was sissifying him, giving Wendy the upper hand. I didn't want to eradicate Michael from existence, rather, I wanted to torment him with his own desires. Wendy embodied those painfully frightening feelings and she was my greatest ally in this process.

"Wendy, perhaps you should show Michael just exactly what he needs," I chimed in. I could tell that they were at an impasse and I hoped this tilted the scales. My powers of persuasion and hypnosis could only go so far, even with the farther-reaching hypnotic triggers that had been set up by his Aunt when he was a boy. She was the person who kept Wendy alive through Michael's sexual awakening and initial subjugation but her training of Michael ceased when she had to move to the West Coast, leaving him adrift.

Dr. Herzog knew exactly what I needed to do to show Michael that I was his true face.

I heard the pleasantly familiar buzz from Dr. Herzog's intercom, letting her husband, Charles, know that his services were needed. Or, rather, that he was needed to be serviced. I've only had a few dozen men with which to compare him, but Charles was my most favorite. I love the way he makes me feel. If anything, I think I have gotten a little crush on him. I hope Dr. Herzog doesn't mind.

I walked over to the center of the room with Michael walking with me. I tried to kneel where Charles liked me to be but my knees were locked.

"No, I won't!" Michael shouted.

"But you want to," I said.

"No, I don't!"

I closed my eyes and thought of all the men that the Herzogs had introduced me to. The wonderful feelings that they gave me and how they satisfied the cravings that I had had for my entire life. I heard their moans mixed with mine. I felt the physical feelings, yes--the hard heat in my mouth and pussy--but also the satisfaction of pleasing.

Into my hand I felt the hot hardness that I loved so much. It was like touching an electric fence. The world stopped and a jolt traveled through my body. I opened my eyes to see Charles standing in front of me, towering over me, his hand over mine, over his erection.

"This," I said, "is what you need. Can't you feel it? Won't you bend to it?"

I could feel Charles's pulse pounding through his sex. My mouth was watering and I felt my clit get hard in my panties. Moreover, I could feel Michael's resolve weakening. He wanted Charles's cock. He needed this because I did.

I sank now to my knees. Hesitant, shaky, but down I went. I trailed my hand over Charles's sex, tracing the ridge around the head of his massive cock. I heard a groan, looked to Charles, and realized it wasn't him making the noise. It was coming from my mouth... it was Michael groaning, feeling the desire that burned inside of me... of us.

Normally, I'd have had my lips wrapped around Charles by now but I wanted to take it slow and easy to let Michael realize just how wonderful servicing a man could be; how marvelous a cock is. I could feel my mouth watering as my fingers played across the ridged surface, feeling the velvet soft mushroom head, running a finger down along the underside of his tool to the base.

I leaned forward and took in the strong heady scent of manhood. It was intoxicating. My eyes closed as I moved closer, my mouth opening. Then I stopped and forced my eyes open. I wanted Michael to see everything, experience it all. I looked at him in the mirror with his own Charles there, cock standing at attention in his hands. As I leaned forward, so did he. Our eyes were locked as we licked the tip of Charles's cock, tasting the salty sourness of man.

We opened our mouths wider and, likewise, Michael opened his eyes wider. I could see the fright there.

"It's all right," I thought to him. "I'll be here to guide you. You're safe."

And with that, we took Charles into our mouth, feeling the bulbous head roll over our lips and onto our tongue. The soft hardness filling our eager mouths. We heard him moan and felt the satisfaction that comes with pleasing. This made us move our heads further onto him.

Usually Charles likes to put a hand in my hair and direct me as I suck him but this time he just let me lead Michael through the experience. I wanted him to savor every inch and every sensation.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," thought Michael.

"This is what you were born to do," I told him. "You were made for making men happy. You were born to suck cock." With that, I leaned in even closer, taking Charles as deep as I could without gagging. A few faint wisps of his pubic hair tickled my nose.

I began moving my head back and forth along his shaft, slowly easing him in and out, wanting to go faster but hesitant to scare Michael.

Without warning, however, I felt my head moving quicker. It wasn't me doing this. It was Michael. I smiled inwardly and knew that we had just made a breakthrough.

A low moan came from deep within as Michael took Charles deeper than I had felt comfortable going before. The hunger had him. He needed to feel more, to know what it meant to feel that emptiness filled. Our throat worked, swallowing Charles as deeply as we could.

Charles joined with his own moan and swore under his breath as Michael worked his cock like he was born to it, just as I had told him, just as I knew.

Usually I can tell when Charles is climaxing from the forceful way he fucks my face, pumping as deep as he can. But perhaps something about Michael's mouth was different for Charles simply let out another low, guttural moan before unleashing a flood into our mouth. This was Michael's first taste of cum and swallowed it down with demanding thirst.

Spent, Charles pulled out and I heard Michael say, "I want more." I knew that he had joined me and I began to feel whole for the first time in a long time.

"Wendy?" Dr. Herzog asked, "Is Michael still here?"

"He's somewhere inside of me, Doctor. He's content and knows that I am the real person that he always needed to be."

She smiled and told me that when I wasn't called forth from Michael's subconscious that I would be much more present in his life. More than fleeting effeminate gestures, he would feel far more like the girl he truly is. I would be calling more of the shots. He would feel my hunger and be a cockslut. He would be this way because I am this way.

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