chrystalwynd:From the files of underground hypnotherapist Dr. Keith Link:“This is BS!The stupid idio
chrystalwynd:From the files of underground hypnotherapist Dr. Keith Link:“This is BS!The stupid idiot at the burger place messed up my order, so I told him to fix it. Just because I threw my burger at him and called him a fucking moron, they called the police! Geez. And when I told the cop to go fuck himself, they arrested me for disturbing the peace. Jerks!Anyway, I got sentenced to attend ‘anger management sessions’…like I need that! I don’t see why I should have to go…it was a BS charge.So I got sent to some stupid shrink…Dr. Link. I just wanted to make sure he understood that I wasn’t gonna lay down and talk about my childhood and get all touchy-feely with him, and if he thought I was going to do anything like that, he could go fuck himself.He said I was having trouble communicating with others without generating a malicious response. I told him again he could go fuck himself. In fact, I gave him several options to fucking himself if he didn’t prefer that particular avenue.He finally said that he was going to fix my interaction difficulties by installing a filter between my mind and my mouth. I laughed and said good luck with that.Then he offered a deal. He said if I let him put me under once- just once- to install a filter, then the following week would be my final week. Instead of weekly sessions for six months, I’d be done in one week.I thought about it for about two seconds. Letting him think he hypnoed me against getting out of six months of weekly sessions? Oh, hell, yes. Besides, I knew there was no way he’d get me under. I could fake that part easily.So I sat down and let him swing his stupid pendant. I did everything he said and, although I did lose track of what he was saying, I managed to get through the whole session without clucking like a chicken or anything like that.As soon as I was done there, I went to a party. Everything was fine until I actually walked in the door and tried to talk to people. That’s when I realized something was wrong.I was talking like a fucking ditz. And worse, every time I tried to curse or tell somebody off, I found myself licking my lips instead.Eyes wide, cheeks burning with embarrassment, I got the hell out of there.What the hell had that damn Dr. Link done to me?!It didn’t go away. I walked around talking like a complete airhead. And every time somebody laughed at me and I tried to tell them off, I sat there licking my lips at them like a fucking slut.I tried to storm into Link’s office, but his secretary simply said that Link wouldn’t see me until our next scheduled appointment.I had to stay like that all week. Finally on the day of the appointment, I stomped into his office.I opened my mouth and tried to call him a fucking asshole, but I ended up licking my lips at him instead.“Yes?” he said, obviously amused.I was furious, but I forced myself to calm down. “I can’t, wike, talk wight, Doctor! I’m serial! I know you did it and you soooooo have to fix me, wike, wight now!”Dr. Link sat back and crossed his legs. “Oh?” he said, his eyebrows raising. “I understood this to be our last session.”Heart pounding, eyes wide, I said, “Oh! No! You can’t! Don’t you dare leave—” and suddenly I was licking my lips at him again.He looked at me again. I sighed and said, “Well…perhaps I should come for another, ummm, couple sessions, wike, you know…?”Dr. Link said, “We’ll talk about it after I’ve finished putting you under for this session.”I opened my mouth to protest, but found myself licking my lips.*****That was three months ago. He still hasn’t fixed my speech patterns. In fact, that’s the least of my problems now. It’s no longer just the way I speak. Now even my body language is bimboey. I bend from the waist to pick things up, instead of bending my knees. I twirl my hair. I giggle like an airhead.And now I’m wearing mini-skirts and using makeup. Me!I can’t help it. I don’t feel right if I don’t dress girly and put on lipstick.And I find myself thinking about cock all the time. Just being near a guy, his smell, his masculinity, makes me crazy wet. And I want to give blowjobs. I want to feel a dick sliding between my lips, pumping my mouth, filling my mouth with hot blasts of cum, filling my belly.I try to fight it, of course. I try to resist. But it’s so hard to hold a thought these days. I stopped trying to tell people off now because I want guys to talk to me, to stand near me.I still have to see Dr. Link every week. He says he’ll fix me at the end of the six months of counselling, but I have a feeling it won’t matter. I feel it going deep. I’m being hardwired into a bimbo. I’m trying to fight it…I really am…but the feel of my golden curls of hair on my bare shoulders just makes me feel so girly, so hot…I forget to resist. I have to remind myself, but by then I usually have a belly full of cum. I get mad, but then I start giggling again, because I realize he got me so good and that I totally can’t beat Dr. Link.I went into his office last week and tried really, really hard to tell him off. But it didn’t work. It never does. He can put me under soooooo easily now. It doesn’t matter how hard I try to resist, he just says something and I’m totally out. And when he wakes me up, my lipstick is always a little smeared.Just three months to go, though, and I’ll be alllllllll fixed up…wight…?” source: ditzybabydoll -- source link
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