[Another lost story...this one of my very early ones....]
"All right, Martin, you are comfortably asleep," I told the entranced patient on my office couch. "The only voice you can hear is mine. I'm your friend, Dr. Verna Gruenwald--you can trust me."
"Yes, Dr. Gruenwald," Martin responded from within his hypnotic spell, "I trust you."
"Very well, Martin. I know something is bothering you--something that in your waking life you feel you cannot tell even me, your psychiatrist. But now, within this trance, your inhibitions are gone. There is nothing you cannot say and do. Tell me your problem." I leaned forward in my chair, fully expecting to hear a confession about some terrible crime.
Martin was so conflicted, so unwilling to talk about his emotions, that I was certain he was hiding some deep secret such as child abuse or murder. I certainly didn't expect to hear what I did.
"Doctor," he began, "I have a hidden desire. I want to dress like a woman."
"That's not so terrible, Martin," I responded in my most professional manner--though underneath I was surprised, and somewhat delighted, by the revelation. "Many men are secret crossdressers. While society may look poorly on the practice, it's harmless, generally."
"But that's not all, Doctor," he continued. "When dressed as a woman, I want to be dominated by another woman--I want to be her male lesbian slave!"
Only years of training kept me from revealing my own reaction to Martin's secret. I had been living a double life myself since grad school, behaving like a respectable psychiatrist by day, haunting both the lesbian bars and TV hangouts of the city by night, searching for just such a one as Martin. Had both our dreams come true at once?
There was only one problem--Martin had so repressed his desire to be a submissive transvestite that I would never be able to bring it to the surface in normal therapy--certainly not if he suspected I harbored dreams of submitting him to my own will. There was only one answer--over our next several sessions, I would have to use my hypnotic control of him to establish a personality that would accept his submissive dream.
I started immediately. "Martin, listen carefully," I said. "You are no longer Martin--you are now Martha. Martha is a beautiful young woman whose greatest erotic thrill is to be under the domination of a lesbian mistress. I am that mistress. Martha's favorite kinds of clothing are feminine yet revealing, allowing her mistress access to her privates at all times. Do you understand? What is your name?"
"My name is Martha, Mistress Verna," the entranced patient replied.
I smiled. "Excellent, Martha. Now, deep in the recesses of your mind, you remain aware that you are really Martin, but that persona is never revealed unless I wish it so. Martin is equally thrilled to be treated as a beautiful, feminine, submissive, but is also deeply humiliated by it all. You will find that humiliation merely increases your sexual excitement.
"From this point forward, whenever I hypnotize you, the phrase Martha, kiss me will bring your new persona to light, acting as if you were not hypnotized," I continued. "You will obey my request and then stand ready to follow any other commands I give. The phrase Martin, darling will bring your normal persona to the fore. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress Verna."
"Excellent. Now, in the future, I need merely say On the couch, Martin, to put you back in this entranced state...and the phrase, The session is over will awaken you, feeling refreshed and happy, consciously remembering only what I have told you to remember, but ready to follow any posthypnotic orders I may have given you."
I stopped for a moment and considered my options. A flash of inspiration came to me. "On your trip home this evening, you will purchase a garterbelt and stockings that fit you, as well as a pair of high heels. You will also purchase mascara, blush and lipstick. At precisely 7:30 p.m., you will call my home number. The session is over."
Instantly, Martin came to his senses. "Is that it, Doctor? Did you learn anything?"
"Yes, I did, Martin. But I need to reflect on it a bit before I can help you further. Go on home, I'll see you next week."
And my new slave left the office, unaware of his new status.
Immediately after my last patient that day, I rushed home to my apartment to tell my roommate and lover Susan of my find. Like me, Susan was bisexual, but she was submissive, completely acquiescent to my desires. However, her submission applied only to other women--with men she was a powerful dominant, and a subject like Martin/Martha would be as attractive to her as to me.
"And you're certain he'll call tonight, lover?" she asked me.
"Absolutely," I answered, as I slipped out of my daytime business suit and into the slinky black satin lingerie I preferred for evening wear within our home. Susan--who spent her days as my 'maid,' for want of a better term--was dressed in her habitual pink satin teddy, panties, garterbelt, stockings and six-inch heeled strappy sandals. She was curled up at my feet, stroking my legs, preparing to make love.
It was nearly 7:30; we were breathlessly awaiting Martin's call. At precisely the hour I had prescribed, the phone rang. I let it ring four times--anticipation is good for the submissive soul--then picked up the receiver and also touched the button for the speaker phone, so Susan could hear both sides of the conversation.
"Hello," I breathed, seductively.
"Doctor Gruenwald?" came the voice from the other end. "This is Martin Michaels."
"What can I do for your, Martin?" I asked, as if I didn't know.
"Doctor, the strangest thing happened after I left your office this afternoon...I felt compelled to purchase a garterbelt, stockings and high- heeled pumps, as well as some cosmetics. Then I suddenly realized I had to call you as well."
"I understand, Martin," I replied. "Sometimes, after a hypnosis session, patients feel compelled to do things tied in with the revelations they've made while hypnotized. Do you remember anything you told me while you were on the couch, Martin?"
If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn the line had gone dead. Instead, I knew my subject had reverted to the hypnotic state. "Martin, I want you to put on the clothing you bought, then do the best job you can with the makeup. When you're done, you will put on your outer clothes and drive to my home." I gave him the address and hung up.
Twenty-five minutes later, the doorbell rang. I sent Susan to answer it and a moment later she escorted Martin to my presence. I must say he looked cute and suitably androgynous in his makeup, his hose and heels showing below the cuffs of his jeans. I motioned Susan to leave us for a while, then turned to Martin, who was still deeply entranced.
"Martha, kiss me!" I commanded. Instantly, he moved forward in his heels, teetering a bit, and placed his lips on mine, passionately. I thrust my tongue into his mouth, playing with his teeth and tongue the way I would with any lover. I reached down and felt his cock grow within his pants.
I pulled away from him. "Martha, remove those male clothes instantly!" He practically ripped the shirt and pants from his body, revealing the red garterbelt and sheer natural color stockings he wore beneath. The red pumps with five-inch heels were a good match for the lingerie and gave a sexy feminine curve to his nearly hairless legs.
I directed him to sit down. "Now, listen closely, Martha. Tomorrow, as Martin, you will call my office and set up a schedule of weekly visits. They are to be scheduled for the late afternoon, my last session of the day. At the first such visit, you will bring with you an overnight bag containing a complete set of lingerie--bra, panties, garterbelt and hose--as well as cosmetics. Do you understand, Martha?"
"Yes, Mistress Verna," he answered submissively.
"Excellent," I replied. "Now, let's see how you look in a full outfit." I turned to the bedroom door. "Susan--get in here! And bring that little party dress you're so proud of...and my black Farrah-style wig!"
Once my soon-to-be slave/lover was suitably frocked, I pulled out my makeup case and proceeded to do a more complete job on his face. The result, topped by the shoulder-length, curly black wig, was stunning. I ordered Martha/Martin to stand and pirouette, sending the skirt flying, revealing his legs to the stocking tops and garters. "Delightful!" I cried.
The rest of the evening was spent with Martha learning the joys of lesbian love, servicing both Susan and me, and watching as we made love to each other. As the clock chimed 10, I realized it was time for the finale.
"Martha, pack your male clothes into this bag," I ordered. While the mesmerized little thing did as I ordered, I continued my instructions. "When you leave here, you will hail a cab and return to your home. Once there, you will call me again. Now go!"
After the pretty little submissive left, Susan and I fell back into the bed, driving each other to distraction. We were interrupted about a half-hour later by the phone. "Hello," I answered.
"It's Martha, Mistress Verna," came the reply.
I looked at Susan and smiled. "The session is over," I said into the phone. Instantly, I heard a thud, as the receiver must have dropped out of Martin's hand. Undoubtedly, he had lost all control as he discovered himself in his cute little lace dress and heels.
I would have to ask him to describe his reaction at our next session.
TO BE CONTINUED
[Don't forget to choose the woman you'd prefer to be (details here)!]