“You’re… relaxing, aren’t you?” Her voice was soft, hypnotic, dripping with honeyed warmth as she leaned forward, her ample cleavage pressing against the edge of her desk. The tight white blouse she wore strained to contain her bust, the fabric pulling taut over her curves. “Your mind is so open now, so… willing. Can you feel it?”
Ethan nodded slowly, his eyes heavy, his body sinking deeper into the plush leather chair. His slender frame looked almost delicate under the dim light of her office, his hands resting limply on the armrests. He didn’t know why he felt so… strange. This was supposed to be a therapy session, wasn’t it? But the way she was looking at him, the way her words seemed to wrap around his thoughts like silk… it didn’t feel like therapy. It felt like something else entirely.
“Good ,” she purred, her lips curling into a smile that was both reassuring and dangerously enticing. “Now, let’s talk.”
Two hours earlier, Ethan had been sitting in the passenger seat of his father’s truck, arms crossed, staring out the window as the suburban streets blurred by. His dad hadn’t said much since they left the house, but the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife.
“So… this therapist,” Ethan finally broke the silence, his voice tinged with skepticism. “What exactly is she supposed to help me with?”
His father, a burly man with a face weathered by years of hard labor, tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Just… mental health stuff. You’ve been off lately. I thought maybe talking to someone would help.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Mental health stuff? Like what?”
“I don’t know, son. Just… life. Stress. Whatever.” His father’s tone was clipped, evasive, and it only made Ethan more suspicious.
He knew his dad wasn’t exactly thrilled about his sexuality—that much had been clear ever since he came out three years ago. The awkward silences, the muttered comments about how he should try dating girls instead of boys, the way his dad always seemed to tense up whenever Ethan talked about his boyfriend—it all added up to one thing: disapproval.
But this? Driving him to some therapist without explanation? It felt… off.
The office was nothing like Ethan expected. Instead of the sterile, clinical environment he’d imagined, it was warm and inviting, with plush furniture, soft lighting, and the faint scent of lavender in the air. And then there was her.
She stood to greet them, her curvy figure accentuated by her tailored outfit, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders in loose waves. She was intimidatingly attractive, even to a gay man, it put Ethan on edge. There was something about her presence—something magnetic, it was overwhelmingly off-putting— it made him feel small, insecure and vulnerable.
“Mr. Thompson,” she greeted his father with a firm handshake, her voice smooth and confident. “And this must be Ethan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Her eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, Ethan felt like she could see right through him. It was unsettling.
After exchanging a few pleasantries, his father excused himself, leaving Ethan alone with Dr. Collins. She motioned for him to take a seat across from her, her movements fluid and deliberate, her gaze never leaving his.
“So, Ethan,” she began, leaning back in her chair, her fingers steepled in front of her. “Why do you think you’re here today?”
He hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “Um… my dad said it was for mental health stuff. Stress, I guess.”
She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Stress can manifest in many ways. Sometimes, it’s tied to… identity. To who we think we are, versus who we could be.”
There was something in her tone—something subtle, yet loaded with meaning—that made Ethan’s stomach twist. “What do you mean?”
She smiled, slow and knowing. “Let’s just say… I specialize in helping people discover their true selves. And sometimes, that means letting go of the things that no longer serve us.”
Before Ethan could respond, she reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a small, ornate pocket watch. Dangling it from its chain, she held it up in front of his face, the metal catching the light.
“Focus on the watch, Ethan,” she instructed, her voice lowering to a soothing murmur. “Follow it with your eyes. That’s it. Nice and easy…”
At first, he tried to resist, to stay alert, but her voice was like a warm blanket wrapping around him, lulling him into a sense of calm. The watch swung back and forth, back and forth, until his vision blurred, and he felt himself slipping into a trance.
“You’re doing so well, Ethan,” Dr. Collins cooed, her voice rich with approval. “So very, very relaxed. Now, let’s start peeling away those layers. Let’s uncover the man beneath.”
Her words washed over him like a wave, pulling him deeper into a state of submission. He wanted to fight it, to question what was happening, but his body felt heavy, his mind muzzled.
“Tell me, Ethan,” she continued, her tone gentle yet commanding. “When did you first realize you were… different?”
He swallowed, his throat dry. “I… I don’t know. Since I was a kid, I guess.”
She nodded, her expression understanding, but there was a sharpness in her eyes—a calculated intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.
“And do you ever wonder if that’s really who you are? If maybe… there’s another side to you? A stronger side? A more… masculine side?”
Ethan’s breath caught in his throat. Masculine. The word reverberated in his skull, sharp and jagged, like a knife twisting into an old wound. It wasn’t just a word—it was his father’s voice, gruff and heavy with disapproval, echoing through the years. “Be a man.” “Stop acting like that.” “Why can’t you be normal?” His chest tightened, a dull ache spreading through him. He wanted to bolt, to push himself out of this chair, away from her, away from the weight of that word pressing down on him. But his body refused to obey. His limbs felt leaden, anchored to the leather seat by some unseen force. He swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I… I don’t—” Dr. Collins leaned closer, her presence looming, suffocating. Her perfume—something warm and floral—filled his senses. “It’s okay, Ethan,” she murmured, her voice smooth as velvet. “We’re going deeper now.” Her lips curved, a faint smile playing at the edges of her mouth. She raised three fingers, each one commanding his gaze like a silent order. “I’ll count down from three. When I reach one, you’ll be completely suggestible. When I click my fingers, you’ll wake up. Ready?”
Ethan nodded, his eyes shut tight, his stomach twisting in uneasy knots. What would she say to him when he was completely under? What would she do? “Three…” Her voice dropped lower, wrapping around him, pulling him down into a thick, syrupy haze. “Two…” Heat pooled in his stomach, his pulse quickening despite the heaviness weighing down his limbs. “One.” The word hung in the air, sharp and final. His body went slack against the chair, every muscle surrendering to her command. “You’re with me now.” Her murmur was soft, soothing, but laced with possession. “Completely suggestible. Completely mine. When I click my fingers, you’ll wake up. But until then… you belong to me. Understand?” His lips parted, a faint sound escaping—agreement without thought, without resistance.
Dr. Collins’ voice was low, almost a whisper, but every word carried an undeniable weight. “Ethan,” she began, her fingers gently tracing circles on the armrest of his chair, “when you wake up, you’ll see me standing right here in front of you. _Completely naked.” She paused, letting those words sink into the depths of his subconscious. Ethan’s breath hitched slightly, though his body remained limp and unresponsive under her control.
“At first, you’ll feel shocked. You won’t understand why I’m standing there like that, why I’ve chosen this moment to reveal myself to you. But then… something will shift. Something deep inside you. Your gayness—yes, your gayness, Ethan—will begin to slip away. Not all at once, no. It will be gradual, like sand slipping through your fingers. And as it fades, you’ll start to notice things. Things you’ve never noticed before.”
She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear. Her scent—a mix of vanilla and something musky—filled his senses, even in this trance-like state. “You’ll begin to appreciate the feminine form. The soft curves of a woman’s body, the way her hips sway when she walks, the delicate arch of her neck. You’ll find yourself drawn to breasts—my breasts, Ethan—their fullness, their bounce, their warmth. You’ll want to touch them, to feel their weight in your hands. Yes, you’ll crave that sensation. And pussy…” She let out a soft, amused chuckle, her lips brushing against his earlobe. “Oh, Ethan, you won’t be able to stop thinking about it. The way it looks, the way it feels, the way it tastes. It will fascinate you. Consume you. You’ll feel an insatiable hunger whenever you see a woman, and that hunger will make you feel more… masculine. More powerful. More complete.“
Her hand drifted down to rest on his thigh, her touch firm yet gentle. "You’ll know, deep down, that you were supposed to be gay. The thought will linger in the back of your mind, like a distant memory. But it won’t matter anymore. Because now, now you’ll be different. You’ll be the man your father always wanted you to be. And when he sees the change in you, when he sees how much happier, how much more fulfilled you are… he’ll be proud of you, Ethan. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?“
The room seemed to hold its breath as Dr. Collins straightened, her eyes scanning Ethan’s face for any sign of resistance. There was none. His features were relaxed, his breathing steady. A faint flush coloured his cheeks, but otherwise, he was completely still. A slow smile spreading across her lips. “Good boy," she murmured. “Now… it’s time to wake up." She clicked her fingers sharply, the sound cutting through the heavy silence.
Ethan’s eyelids fluttered open, disoriented at first. The room came into focus slowly, the soft hum of the air conditioning filling his ears. He blinked, trying to shake off the lingering fog from the session. And then… he saw her.
Dr. Collins stood just a few feet away, exactly as she had promised. Naked.
Ethan froze, his eyes widening as they traveled over her body. Her ginger hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her full, round face. Her ample breasts swayed slightly with her movements, their pale skin flushed pink at the tips. Her stomach curved softly, leading down to wide hips and thick thighs that seemed to demand attention. But it was the patch of curly red hair between her legs that held his gaze the longest. He couldn’t look away.
“Wh-what…?” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of shock and something else—something he couldn’t quite name. “Why are you…”
“Shh,” she interrupted gently, taking a step closer. Her movements were deliberate, each one calculated to draw his eye. “It’s okay, Ethan. Just… look at me. Really look at me.”
He tried to avert his gaze, to look anywhere but at her naked form, but he found himself unable to. His eyes kept being pulled back, like a moth to a flame. And as he stared, he felt it. That shift she had described. It started as a small flutter in his chest, a tug at something deep inside him. Then it grew, spreading through his body like wildfire.
His throat went dry as his eyes lingered on her breasts, their size and shape suddenly captivating in a way they’d never been before. He could almost feel their weight in his hands, their softness against his skin. And lower… his gaze drifted down to her pussy, the curls of hair glistening slightly in the light. His pulse quickened, a heat building in his gut that he didn’t want to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore.
“Do you see now, Ethan?” she asked, her voice smooth and honeyed. “Do you see how beautiful a woman’s body can be? How… irresistible it is?”
He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly parched. “I-I don’t…” he stammered, his voice trembling. “This isn’t—I’m not—”
“Yes, you are,” she cut in firmly, taking another step closer. She was within arm’s reach now, her presence overwhelming. “You’re starting to feel it, aren’t you? That pull. That desire. It’s natural, Ethan. It’s who you’re meant to be.”
He shook his head, trying to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, his eyes dropped back to her body, tracing every curve, every line. His heart raced, his palms damp with sweat. He felt… different. Like something inside him had shifted, rearranged itself. The thoughts that usually occupied his mind—thoughts of men, of their lean frames and sharp jawlines—were fading, replaced by something new. Something… hungry.
Dr. Collins smiled, sensing his internal struggle. She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his cheek. The contact sent a jolt through him, his breath hitching in response. “It’s okay to admit it, Ethan,” she said softly. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting this. With needing it."
He opened his mouth to protest, but no sound came out. Instead, his eyes locked onto hers, searching for answers, for clarity. But all he found was a quiet confidence, a knowing smile that only deepened his confusion—and his arousal.
"Take your time,” she murmured, stepping back slightly. She turned, giving him a full view of her body from behind. Her ass was round and full, the kind that begged to be touched, squeezed, worshipped. Ethan’s breath caught, his pulse thudding in his ears. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He couldn’t be feeling this way. But as he stared at her, he realized… he was.
“See, Ethan?” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him, her expression both teasing and encouraging. “This is what masculinity feels like. This need, this hunger. It’s part of you now. Embrace it."
He couldn’t respond. He couldn’t think. All he could do was stare, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions—shame, desire, confusion, and something else, something primal that he couldn’t name. His father’s face flashed in his mind, stern and disapproving. But mixed with that image was a new one—a vision of himself, strong and masculine, earning his father’s pride.
“I…” he started, his voice hoarse. “I don’t know…"
“You don’t have to know yet,” she said, turning to face him again. She took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Her breasts brushed against his chest, sending a shiver down his spine. “Just feel, Ethan. Let go of everything holding you back and just… feel."
Her hand slid down his chest, stopping just above his waistband. Ethan’s breath hitched, his body tensing under her touch. He knew he should pull away, should tell her to stop, but he couldn’t. He was frozen, trapped between shame and desire, his mind reeling as she leaned in closer, her lips inches from his ear.
"You’re waking up,” she whispered, her breath hot against his skin. “To who you really are. And soon… you’ll be ready to take what you want."
Her hand dipped lower, grazing the growing bulge in his pants. Ethan gasped, his hips instinctively thrusting forward, seeking more contact. Dr. Collins chuckled softly, her fingers tightening around him.
“That’s it,” she murmured. “Feel it, Ethan. Feel how good it can be..."
Ethan’s breath came in shallow gasps as Dr. Collins’ hand moved with purpose, her fingers teasing the outline of his growing arousal through his pants. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion and desire, his thoughts tangled like a web he couldn’t quite unravel. He wanted to stop her, to pull away, but his body betrayed him, arching into her touch as if it had a will of its own.
“Do you feel it?” she murmured, her voice low and sultry, dripping with an intoxicating mix of authority and seduction. “Your body knows what it wants, Ethan. Even if your mind is still catching up.”
Her other hand cupped his cheek, forcing him to look into her eyes. They were deep pools of green, hypnotic and unyielding, holding him captive without even trying. She’s right, a small voice whispered in the back of his head. You do want this. And yet, that thought terrified him almost as much as it excited him.
With a deliberate slowness, she unbuttoned his pants, the sound of the zipper coming undone echoing loudly in the quiet room. Ethan’s heart pounded in his chest, his hands gripping the edges of the couch so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Dr. Collins, I—” he started, his voice trembling.
“Shh,” she interrupted, placing a finger over his lips. “Don’t think. Just feel.”
Her hand slipped inside his boxers, wrapping around his length with a firmness that made him gasp. Her touch was warm, electric, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through his body. She began to stroke him slowly at first, her movements steady and deliberate, as if she knew exactly how to make him unravel.
This is wrong, Ethan thought, though the words felt hollow, distant. I shouldn’t—I can’t— But his protests were drowned out by the sensations flooding his body, each stroke pulling him deeper into a haze of lust and submission. His hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more, needing more.
“That’s it,” Dr. Collins purred, watching him with a satisfied smirk. “Let go, Ethan. There’s no shame in enjoying this. No shame in wanting me.”
Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and despite himself, he found them impossible to resist. His breath quickened, his cock hardening fully in her grasp as she increased her pace, her thumb brushing over the sensitive tip with every stroke. Ethan’s head fell back against the couch, a low moan escaping his lips.
God, she’s good, he thought, his earlier resistance crumbling like sand slipping through his fingers. Too good.
Dr. Collins leaned in closer, her ample breasts pressing against his side as her breath tickled his ear. “See how easy it is?” she whispered, her voice laced with both triumph and affection. “How natural? You were never meant to deny yourself like this, Ethan. You were meant to embrace it. To embrace me.”
His hands, which had been gripping the couch so tightly, now hesitated, hovering awkwardly in the air as if unsure where to land. Sensing his uncertainty, Dr. Collins guided one of them to her hip, encouraging him to explore. “Touch me,” she commanded softly, her tone leaving no room for refusal.
Tentatively, Ethan obeyed, his fingers skimming over the soft curve of her waist before settling on the swell of her hip. Emboldened by her encouragement, he let his hand drift higher, grazing the underside of her breast.
“Go ahead,” she urged, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Take what you want.”
Her permission was all the encouragement he needed. With a newfound boldness, Ethan slid his hand upwards, his fingertips brushing against her nipple. It hardened instantly under his touch, and he couldn’t help but marvel at the way she responded to him, her breath hitching ever so slightly.
Encouraged by her reaction, he grew bolder, his other hand joining the exploration. He cupped her breast fully, his thumb circling her nipple in slow, deliberate motions. Dr. Collins let out a low, throaty moan, her head tilting back as she reveled in his touch.
“Yes,” she breathed, her hips rocking gently against his thigh. “Just like that, Ethan. You’re learning so quickly.”
Her praise sent a surge of pride through him, fueling his desire even further. He wanted to please her, to make her feel as good as she was making him feel. With a sudden burst of confidence, he leaned in, capturing her nipple in his mouth. The taste of her, the way she arched into him—it was intoxicating.
Dr. Collins let out a sharp gasp, her fingers tightening around his cock reflexively. “Oh, Ethan,” she moaned, her voice trembling with need. “You’re such a fast learner.”
He could feel her thighs quivering against his, her legs straddling his lap as she ground herself against him. The friction was maddening, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through his body. His hips moved in tandem with hers, their bodies falling into a rhythm that felt both instinctive and inevitable.
But just as he was about to lose himself completely, Dr. Collins pulled back slightly, her hand still stroking him but her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made him pause. “Tell me,” she demanded, her voice firm but coaxing. “Tell me what you want, Ethan.”
The question caught him off guard, his mind scrambling to form a coherent response. What did he want? Moments ago, he wasn’t sure. But now, with her body pressed against his, her hand wrapped around him, the answer seemed painfully obvious.
I want you, he thought, the words burning in his mind. I want all of you.
But before he could voice his desires, Dr. Collins leaned in close again, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “Say it, Ethan. Say it out loud.”
His throat felt dry, but the words spilled out anyway, raw and unfiltered. “I want you,” he murmured, his voice trembling at first but growing stronger with every syllable. “I want you. Fuck being gay—I want women. I want pussy. I want you, Dr. Collins.”
Her eyes lit up with satisfaction, a sly smile curving her lips as she leaned back, her gaze never leaving his. “Good boy,” she cooed, her tone dripping with approval. “Now show me.”
Before Ethan could second-guess himself, something primal took over. He wasn’t the shy, effeminate twink anymore. He wasn’t the boy who blushed at the thought of touching a woman. No, he was something else now—something strong, masculine, and undeniably in control. His hands gripped her hips, and in one swift motion, he flipped her onto her back, pinning her beneath him.
Dr. Collins let out a gasp, her eyes widening in surprise before they darkened with lust. She didn’t resist, instead spreading her legs wider, inviting him in. Ethan didn’t need any more encouragement. He positioned himself between her thighs, his cock throbbing with anticipation. With a low growl, he thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth, confident motion.
“Oh my god!” Dr. Collins cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as she arched her back. “Yes, Ethan! Just like that!”
The sensation was overwhelming—hot, tight, and so damn good. Ethan groaned, his hips snapping forward instinctively, driving himself deeper into her. It was primal, animalistic, and nothing like anything he’d ever experienced before. He’d had sex with men, sure, but this… this was powerful.
He fucked her hard, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. Dr. Collins moaned loudly, her tits bouncing wildly with every movement. The sound only spurred him on, his pace becoming faster, more urgent. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, their combined moans echoing off the walls.
“Fuck, yes!” Dr. Collins screamed, her voice reaching an almost desperate pitch. “You’re such a man now, Ethan! So fucking strong!”
Her words sent a surge of pride through him. He was a man now. He could feel it—not just in the way he moved but in the way she responded to him. She wanted him, needed him, and he was giving her exactly what she craved.
In the waiting room, Ethan’s father shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The muffled sounds coming from Dr. Collins’ office were impossible to ignore. Moans, screams, and the unmistakable rhythm of someone going at it with reckless abandon. He frowned, concern creeping into his expression. What the hell was going on in there?
“Uh, Dr. Collins?” he called out hesitantly, knocking on the door. There was no response, just another loud, drawn-out moan that made his cheeks flush. He hesitated for a moment before deciding enough was enough. Gripping the doorknob, he pushed the door open.
What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks. His son—his once shy, effeminate, and very gay son—was pounding into Dr. Collins with a ferocity he didn’t even know the boy was capable of. And the doctor… well, she was clearly enjoying every second of it, her tits jiggling wildly as she writhed beneath him.
“Holy shit,” Ethan’s father muttered under his breath, his eyes wide with disbelief.
At that moment, Ethan let out a guttural groan, his body stiffening as he came deep inside her. Dr. Collins followed suit, her entire body convulsing as she squirted around him, her juices soaking the couch beneath them. The sight was almost too much to process.
Ethan turned his head, locking eyes with his father. For a moment, there was silence, heavy and electric. Then, a slow grin spread across Ethan’s face.
“Thanks for bringing me to therapy, Dad,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “Best idea ever.”
His father blinked, stunned. But then, a proud smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Fucking hell, son,” he said, shaking his head in awe. “Well done.”
Ethan chuckled, shifting slightly as he pulled out of Dr. Collins, who lay beneath him, panting and glowing with satisfaction. He glanced down at her, then back up at his father, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Why don’t you join us, Dad?” he suggested casually. “I’m not done exploring Dr. Collins yet, and it’d be a shame if you just sat outside waiting until we were done. Don’t worry—I won’t tell Mom.”
His father hesitated, his gaze flickering between Ethan and the very willing—and very naked—Dr. Collins. She looked up at him with a sultry smile, licking her lips suggestively.
“Come on,” she purred. “Don’t be shy.”
Ethan’s father didn’t hesitate. His hands moved with a practiced urgency, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it fall to the floor. His belt clinked as he yanked it free, trousers pooling around his ankles. Dr. Collins watched him with hungry eyes, her lips parting as she leaned back on the couch, her chest heaving. He stepped forward, his cock already hard, and without a word, he gripped the back of her head, guiding her mouth onto him. She took him eagerly, her tongue swirling around his length as he thrust into her throat. The wet sounds filled the room, mingling with her muffled moans. Ethan stood there, transfixed. His gaze flicked between his father’s face—tight with pleasure—and the way Dr. Collins’ lips stretched around him. He swallowed hard, his own arousal stirring again despite himself. “I’m proud of you, son,” his father grunted, his hips moving in rhythm. Ethan nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. "I don’t think Dr. Collins got rid of all my gayness" he thought, his eyes lingering on his father’s cock. It looked… delicious. Thick and veined, glistening with Dr. Collins’ saliva. A shiver ran down his spine. "Maybe I’ll bring my boyfriend to my next therapy session." The idea formed before he could stop it, and a sly smile tugged at his lips. This wasn’t just about being straight now—it was about exploring something entirely new. Dr. Collins pulled back, gasping for air, her lips swollen and slick. “Your turn, Ethan,” she purred, her voice hoarse. “Don’t keep me waiting.” His father stepped aside, still panting, and Ethan moved closer, his heart pounding. But as he knelt before her, he couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder at his father, who was watching intently. This was far from over.
