Vince stepped into the psychologist's office. The room was warm, inviting, with a faint scent of leather and old books. Dr. Skinner, a calm and polished man in his 40s, greeted him with a warm smile. "Vince, it's good to see you again. How are you feeling today?"
His blue eyes meeting Dr. Skinner's gaze, replied, "I'm doing okay, Doc. Rushed here immediately after the shift, but I'm here, right?"
Dr. Skinner chuckled lightly, his glasses reflecting the soft light. "That's the spirit. How about another hypnotherapy session today? I'd like to try something a bit different, if you are comfortable with it. It might help us to explore some new directions on your condition."
Vince, ever the confident man, agreed. "Sure, Doc. Whatever it takes."
Dr. Skinner smiled, he retrieved a small metronome from his desk drawer and set it ticking. "Alright, Vince. Let's begin. Focus on the sound of the metronome. Let it guide you into a state of deep relaxation."
As the metronome ticked, Vince's eyes grew heavy, his muscles relaxed, his breath calmed, mind drifted, subconsciousness resurfaced. Dr. Skinner's voice was a soothing balm, guiding him deeper into the trance.
"Vince, can you hear me?"
"Yes, Doc. I hear you," Vince answered in oblivion, his voice low.
"Good boy. Now, Vince, I want you to imagine yourself standing in a room. It's warm, comfortable, and safe. And in this room, you're going to do something for me.”
Vince slightly adjusted his position, anticipating.
“You're going to strip. Take off all your clothes, Vince. Show off that strong, muscular body of yours."
As soon as the voice fell, Vince's hands moved to his turnout coat, unzipping it slowly. He slipped it off, revealing his smooth, muscular chest. His pants followed, pooling at his feet. He stood there, in his boxers, his cock already straining against the fabric.
Dr. Skinner's eyes roamed over Vince's body, appreciative. "Good boy. Now, Vince, take off your boxers. Let me see all of you."
Without hesitation, Vince hooked his thumbs into the waistband, pushing them down. His cock sprang free, it was caged, encased in a sleek metal chastity device.
“When did you get this?” the psychologist teased.
Vince frozen, trying to process, troubled as he could not remember.
“It’s a gift from the last session, remember?”, Dr. Skinner lightly tapped the tip of the cage, “It’s a source of comfort.”
Vince chuckled, a low rumble. "Yes, it helps with the stress."
Dr. Skinner nodded, his fingers tracing the metal. "It suits you, Vince. And I appreciate that you kept yourself smooth and hairless as I suggested."
His fingers trailed up Vince's chest, teasing his nipples. Vince's breath hitched, his body responding to the touch. Dr. Skinner's fingers danced over his muscles, tracing the lines of his abs, his pecs.
"Flex for me, Vince," Dr. Skinner commanded, his voice low and husky.
Vince did as he was told, his muscles bulging, his body a testament to his strength and discipline. The psychologist's lips found his neck, kissing, nibbling. He brushed his face along Vince's muscular shoulder, his bicep, his tricep. And then, he reached down, his nose buried in Vince's armpit. He took a deep sniff, his eyes fluttering closed.
"Fuck, Vince. You smell amazing," he murmured, his voice muffled.
The psychologist then fished out a bottle of lube from his pocket, slicking up his middle finger. He reached around, his finger pressing against Vince's virgin hole.
"Relax, Vince. Let me in," Dr. Skinner whispered.
Vince took a deep breath, his body relaxing. He felt the soft pressure, the gentle intrusion. The psychologist’s finger slid in, inch by inch. Vince's cock twitched in its cage, his body responding to the foreign sensation.
Dr. Skinner’s finger began to move, in and out, slow and steady. His other hand started tapping on the cock cage, mimicking the rhythm of masturbation. The taps are electric, sending shivers down his spine. Vince's hole clenched, his body adjusting to the intrusion.
"Fuck, Doc," Vince groaned, his body on fire.
Dr. Skinner smiled, his finger picking up pace, violating Vince’s weak spot. Vince's hole eventually loosened, and the psychologist added another finger, scissoring them inside Vince to stretch him further. Then another…
By the third finger, Vince was a panting, moaning mess. His cock twitched, his body tense. And then, with a silent moan, he came, his body shuddering, hole clamping tight around Dr. Skinner's fingers.
Dr. Skinner slowly withdrew his fingers, a satisfied smile on his face. He reached for a small plug, lubing it up. "This is for you, Vince. To help with your stress."
Vince smiled, silly and delightful. He felt the plug press against his hole, the gentle stretch. He took a deep breath and accepted his new gift. The plug slid in, filling him, completing him.
As Vince left the office, his body hummed with satisfaction. The plug was a constant reminder, another source of comfort. He knew he was in good hands. As he walked out, a smile played on his lips, his mind already anticipating their next session.
And…maybe he should even refer Dr. Skinner to a colleague or two.