Therapy - Part 4

Shelly's Therapy continues! She has her first Special Encounter Therapy session! Can she handle it? Will playing the role of a sissy prostitute to its orgasmic conclusion prove once and for all that she is a normal, straight, heterosexual man - or prove that she's a homo? Or prove something else?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Therapy Part Four

The drive to Dr. Taylor’s office took far too long but was actually over pretty quick.  I just really wanted to get going and was starting to get a bit anxious.  I knew that if Doctor Wilson was there - my Doctor, my wonderful Doctor - he would’ve helped me deal with my anxiety by putting me into the Power Dynamics Enhancement Position where I could wrap my nicely glossed lips around his wonderful cock and thus calm myself and focus on my therapy treatment.  I thought of asking the limousine driver, Richard, if he knew about the Power Dynamics Enhancement Position but then I realized that even if he did my practicing it would ruin my lipstick and I wasn’t sure I could reapply it so perfectly while riding along in the limo.  Then I realized I didn’t bring my lipstick with me.  In fact, aside from the clothes on my body and the shoes on my feet, I’d brought nothing else along with me.  So, I just had to calm myself by focusing on the memories of when last I was down on my knees before my Doctor in the Power Dynamics Enhancement Position and focusing on my breathing as his cock, his wonderful cock, just slide so sensuously in and out of my mouth.  I took confidence in the fact that there was nothing gay about those thoughts, this was just part of my therapy to cure me of my crossdressing problems.

I closed my eyes and let my mind focus on the previous therapy sessions and my experiences there.  Soon however, all I could think about were the images that had been displayed on the Therapy Machine to me as I’d been strapped in to it.  Images of gorgeous crossdressers and Tgurls being taken by men.  Images of sissies on their knees worshiping one man’s cock after another.  Images of Tgurl escorts being thrown into the bed of some high class hotel’s suite by their client and then that client putting his stiff, thick, juicy cock deep into the gurl’s willing sissy pussy.  I was soon squeezing my thighs together and wishing I didn’t have that damn R.A.D. – Restrictive Access Device, i.e. a chastity cage – locked around my penis.  And that Doctor Wilson, my wonderful Doctor, hadn’t removed the plug I’d normally wear inside of me.  My eyes fluttered open as I felt the limo make a turn off the street and drive down into and underground parking lot.  I caught Richard looking at me in the rear view mirror again and I blew him a kiss as he pulled us up to a stop.

Doctor Taylor was there and looking rather impressive in his nicely cut suit.  He waited for Richard to come around and open the door for me – just like the elegant lady I was at that moment – and then Dr. Taylor took my hand to assist me out of the limo.  His broad smile made me beam and bask in his approval.

“Shelly you look wonderful!” Dr. Taylor exclaimed “Let’s not waste any time, shall we?” he asked as he took my arm just like Doctor Wilson had and escorted me over to the garage’s elevator.  Idly I thought about what it would be like if it was Dr. Taylor who could take me in an elevator instead of Doctor Wilson.  But I had that Special Encounter Therapy session to do first and I didn’t really know whether Dr. Taylor therapy techniques were appropriate for me in the same way as Doctor Wilson’s.  Doctor Wilson is such a wonderful doctor.  I am so lucky to be under his care and I am achieving such excellent results under his treatment.

Dr. Taylor gently stroked my well manicured hands as we rode up the elevator and began telling me the details of how the Special Encounter Therapy session would work.

“Shelly, in order for this therapy to be effective it has be as ‘realistic’ as possible – within the limits of a proper medical treatment environment.  Of course.  These men, Shelly, have such a problem with their attraction to crossdressed men that they, at times, have resorted to paying for the services of transvestite prostitutes.”

I felt my cock twitch when Dr. Taylor described this as it was exactly the fantasy which had been so vividly playing in my mind over the past week.  Before I could say anything about that the elevator stopped at its floor and Dr. Taylor escorted me out of it and down the hallway.

“I’m sure you agree that such choices are not healthy ones and put both these men and their careers at risk.” Dr. Taylor smoothly continued as we walked down the hallway.  I could only nod in agreement as I snuggled closer to his strong arm wrapped around mine.  I felt so wonderfully girly to be held and walked around like this.  Just like a sissy should feel around a strong man who was attracted to her.

“The therapeutic services I provide are done in a safe, controlled, and appropriate manner which eliminates that risk to both parties while allowing the men undergoing the therapy the opportunity to address their issues firsthand.” He smoothly continued as he gently stroked my hand as we walked.  “You understand all this?” he asked, smiling at me.

I basked in that smile and attention.  He was a doctor.  Perhaps not my Doctor, but he was a doctor and this was all part of the therapy I was undergoing as well.  Not only was he helping these men with their problem but he was helping me with mine.  Therefore he was just as right as my Doctor.  And my Doctor is always right.  He is such a wonderful doctor.  I am so lucky to be under his care and I am achieving such excellent results under his treatment.  So, I smiled back at him and could only reply “Yes, Doctor Taylor.”

“Good girl.  I knew you’d understand” he beamed at me.  His smile and praise made my trapped cock twitch.  And I again wondered if the Power Dynamics Enhancement Position was part of his therapy with any of us girls he had assisting him in his practice.

Dr. Taylor steered us to a room off the corridor which he unlocked and brought me in to.  It looked like a nicely appointed hotel room.  A room almost exactly like I’d envisioned in my fantasies of being a high class – and high priced – sissy escort!  I swallowed at the realization of how my fantasies were becoming reality in so perfect a way.  This just meant that what my therapy was revealing was real and true and correct and so very, very good for me!  My therapy was working!

“Now, as you can see Shelly, this room is set up much like what my patients have become used to in their attempts to address their issues.”  Dr. Taylor continued.  “They are used to attempting to address their issues by having intimate encounters with crossdressed prostitutes in a hotel room sort of setting.”  Dr. Taylor then moved about the room showing me its features.  There was a small bathroom adjoining the room but it really was just a room but big enough for the king size bed and a small table for two in one corner with a small vanity in the corner next to it.  There were two doors to the room itself.  The one which we’d just entered and then another one at the other side of the room.  Dr. Taylor moved over to that door. 

“This is where the patient will enter.  On the other side here is the rest of my medical office suite and it is where I provide the rest of my therapeutic treatments to the rest of my patients.  Shortly, when you’re ready, I will have your fellow patient come in through that door.  I will introduce you and then leave you two as you begin your Special Encounter Therapy session together.”  I licked my lips at the idea of shortly being in arms of a total stranger as we worked on our issues together.

“Now, with this being your first Special Encounter Therapy session, I am pairing you with a patient of mine who has undergone several such therapy sessions.  He understands that you share the same general sort of issue as he is attempting to address so he understands that this is assisting you as well as being therapeutic for him as also.  I know this might seem a bit awkward at first but, just follow his lead and he will guide you through the therapeutic process quite nicely.  And remember, this is not a discussion based therapeutic approach.  Rather, it is through the act of physical intimacy which allows the two of you to fully address the complexities of the issues you both face.  Do you understand this Shelly?”  Dr. Taylor asked as he stepped closer to me.  He raised his hand to my face and gently moved away a stray hair and lightly traced his fingertips along my cheek as he did so.  I had to breathe in deeply to focus myself enough to answer his question.  He was a doctor and I must always answer a doctor’s questions.  When providing me therapy my doctors are always right and I must always obey my doctors if my therapy is to work.

I swallowed and looked up at him and into his eyes.  “Yes, Doctor Taylor, I understand.  I will follow his lead.  I am a sissy and a good sissy follows a man’s lead at all times.”  Even as I said the words I was amazed that I had done so.  I’d no idea why I felt so compelled to make that statement but, it felt so right to do so.  I was rewarded for my admission of my inner nature by Doctor Taylor smiling even more broadly and cupping my face in both his hands.  As he pissed me on my forehead – mustn’t muss the lipstick! – he strengthened my spirit and determination to do well in my Special Encounter Therapy session.

“That’s a good gurl, Shelly.  You are such a good gurl.  Doctor Wilson was right about you.  He told me you are such a wonderful sissy gurl and that you would do so well in this therapy.  I’m proud of you and know you’ll do fine!” he said as his lips touch my forehead.  Oh, if only he could kiss me on my lips without worrying about my lipstick.  Unbidden, a thought popped into my head – perhaps if I had my lips tattooed to look like they had lipstick already on them I wouldn’t have to worry so much about them being mussed from kissing my doctors?

Dr. Taylor stood back and clasped both my hands in his and then turned to pick up the small phone on the vanity.  “Steffi?  Please send Patient Smith in for his Special Encounter Therapy session.  Thank you.” He spoke to someone on the other end of the line.  “Steffi?”  I felt a brief bit of jealousy that it was “Steffi” enjoying Dr. Taylor’s regular attention and not me.  But that was silly as I’d no idea who Steffi was or if Dr. Taylor’s therapy could include sissy gurls like me.  I’d not long to wait as I heard the door being unlocked and in stepped my therapy patient partner.

What I saw nearly took my breath away.

It’s not just that he was handsome but that he was a fantasy dream of mine come to life.  For weeks now I’d had these recurring fantasies of submitting my sissyself to exactly who had just stepped into the room.  Well, perhaps not exactly but, damn if this man wasn’t the real life version of my fantasies.  He was an older man with some wonderful salt ‘n pepper going on in his business cut hair.  Clean shaven otherwise, and he looked oh-so-commanding and powerful in his executive’s suit.  Just the sort of businessman daddy who’d have a few sissy gurls kept at his beck and call throughout the world as his business trips took him from one city to the next.

I barely heard Dr. Taylor’s words as he introduced us and explained again the nature of the Special Encounter Therapy session.  It was all I could do to not sink to my knees before “Mr. Smith” and begin worshiping him as a sissy like me should.  I bit my lip in the sort of cute femmy way I’d learned as Mr. Smith took my hand in his and stepped close to me.  It was the way he was looking at me which tipped me over.  Tipped me over into that wonderful deep sub-space where I was totally out of control and totally in his control.  It was that look.

I was standing, a man in a dress, heels, and lingerie and here was this other man – just as straight and as heterosexual and as not gay as I was not gay – looking at me that way.  That look.  The hunger in that look.  It was a hungry look which I realized I ached for.  This man wanted me.  He wanted me because I was dressed in women’s clothes.  He wanted me because I was so completely femmed up.  He wanted me because I’d put my makeup on so beautifully.  He wanted me because I was so pretty.  He had that hunger in his eyes to devour me because I filled out my bra so well.  He wanted me because I was a sissy who needed to serve another man because that was what sissies did – they served other men.

So consumed by that hunger was I that I didn’t even remember Dr. Taylor leaving the room.  Instead, I was just swept up in Mr. Smith’s arms and completely overwhelmed by his kissing me.  Not on my forehead but fully on my lips.  Deeply and passionately on my lips.  I swooned.  Literally.  If it hadn’t been for his arms embracing me and holding me up I’d have fainted to the floor.  My cock was aching in its cage and, for once, I was glad for how tightly it held my cock back.  There was no tenting of my dress as Mr. Smith held me close to him and ravished my mouth with his tongue.  I yielded – oh yes, how I yielded – to his powerful kissing.

His hands began roaming all over me.  I thrilled as he cupped my ass cheeks with those hands.  Cupping and squeezing them.  They’d become nice and pert thanks to all the exercises Doctor Wilson had me do.  Leg and butt workouts were the only ones I had time to do, what with all the therapy sessions Doctor Wilson had me attend.  Neglecting the rest of my body in my workouts didn’t seem an issue to Doctor Wilson so it must have been part of my therapy.  Not that I was thinking of doing any bicep curls or lat pull downs at that moment.  Instead I was trying to figure a way of getting Mr. Smith out of his suit in an appropriately elegant and erotic way as possible.

Mr. Smith was already ahead of me in that regard as those roaming hands of his had found the zipper of my dress and smoothly pulled it down.  This, even as his embrace of me never let up and his kisses were turning me inside out with lust.

I gladly shimmied out of my little outfit and thrilled to the sensation of it sensually sliding down the rest of my body.  As I stepped out of and kicked off the dress Mr. Smith’s hands began touching my more exposed flesh and that thrilled me even more.  I began working his suit jacket off of him as his fingers traced the garter straps around my thighs.

With the suit jacket almost all the way off he used the one arm still in its sleeve to fling the jacket away.  I then quickly moved my hands down to the belt at his waist and began undoing it eagerly.  His hands free again, Mr. Smith managed to find my nipples behind the bustier.  They were just barely behind the frilly top edge of it and weren’t that difficult to get to anyway.  When he dragged his fingers across them however, it was like they were electrified.  I moaned with pleasure around his tongue as he continued to kiss me so very, very deeply.

Eventually, my unbuckling efforts succeeded and then I quickly popped the clasp of his pants and got to the zipper.  Mr. Smith took his hands away from my engorged and distended nipples and took hold of my head instead.  Being held this way as he continued to kiss me was so commanding and controlling and wonderful.  It was just the way a man should hold a sissy gurl like me when he wanted to kiss me.  Mr. Smith also used that hold to allow himself to arch away from me so I could get his zipper undone.  The moment we both felt that zipper pulling stop is when he pulled his tongue out of my hungry mouth and used his hold on my head to begin pressing me down to my knees.

I was hoping this is what would take place and, just like in the vivid fantasies I’d been having of exactly this moment, I began pulling down on his underwear as he continued to press me down to my knees.  This wasn’t going to be any Power Dynamics Enhancement Position session.  It was going to be a purely sissy cocksucking experience.  Even as lust-filled as I was at that moment I realized that if I could face this experience without it making me a queer faggot then I was most assuredly not gay.  My therapy truly was working!

I wasn’t the smoothest at it all, I’ve gotten a lot better at it since thanks to all the other Special Encounter Therapy sessions I’ve done, but it was good enough.  Soon I was only knees before Mr. Smith and squarely facing his already hard cock.  I whimpered in lust at the glory of it all.  I’d had so many visions of this exact moment that I almost had to pinch myself to be sure it was real.  I paused and made sure to look up at my man before I wrapped my lips around his cock – just like a good sissy gurl should.

What I saw almost made me cream my panties right there and then.  It was that hunger in his eyes.  It was very much still there, if not more intense than before.  “Yes, Shelly, you may.  Good gurl” he said with a sex drenched voice that turned me on even more.  “Good gurl” he had said!  Yes!  I was a good gurl.  The best sort of gurl.  I was a sissified, femmed up, dressed up, made up, gurl on her knees about to suck another man’s cock – and there was nothing gay or queer or faggy about either of us!  My therapy… his therapy… OUR therapy was working!

It was a thought and realization so sublime that I almost closed my eyes to revel in it as I began pushing my lips onto his shaft.  But, like the good gurl sissy I was, I kept looking up at my man as I engulfed his shaft.  I let the hunger in his eyes bore into me and devour me as I devoured his wonderful cock.  It was a beautiful and powerful moment.  And one which made me even more thankful for all the Power Dynamics Enhancement Position sessions I’d had with Doctor Wilson.  Because of those sessions he had trained my throat and gag reflex that I was able to swallow Mr. Smith’s cock so easily and soon was deep throating it like some experienced back alley sissy whore.

As my nose began to mash into Mr. Smith’s crotch once his cock was balls deep into my mouth, I began turning myself on at that little fantasy.  That I was a sissy whore in some motel room being pimped out to one man after another.  That this wasn’t any psychiatric therapy but wanton sexual depravity instead.  It was a fleeting thing to think of and even as I savored the wonderful taste of Mr. Smith’s precum as it oozed from his thick shaft in my mouth, part of my mind chided myself for thinking such salacious thoughts.  This wasn’t sexual depravity, it was medical therapy!  I was undergoing therapy for my crossdressing issues and so to was Mr. Smith!  Therapy that would be even better for both us if I could get him to cum down my throat!  I wrapped my lips more tightly around his shaft and used my tongue – just like Doctor Wilson had taught to on his wonderful cock – to give even more pleasure to the man skull fucking me there in that faux hotel room.

I would’ve loved to have stayed on my knees like that with that cock deep down my throat but Mr. Smith clearly knew better.  Which I shouldn’t have been surprised at.  Dr. Taylor told me that I should follow Mr. Smith’s lead.  And Dr. Taylor was now officially my doctor to so I had to comply with his orders if my therapy was to be effective.  So when Mr. Smith used his grip on my head to pull my hungry mouth off of his wonderful cock I only mewed my disappointment but softly.

He shifted his grip to my nipples and used them to pull me up to my high heeled feet.  I savored the sensations as I clambered up his body and onto those heels.  Standing up again, he pulled me into another of those overwhelming deep kisses as he shuffled me around and toward the bed.  Still kissing and holding me, he reached behind me and pulled down the bed cover.  He broke our embrace to push me back on to the bed.  It was sudden and I sprawled back on to it.

I winced with lust at the sight that then came.

I was there, sprawled on my back on that bed, wearing nothing by my pretty pink and white bustier, my fleshy chest pulled out past its fabric and my nipples exposed.  My seamed Cuban heeled nylons still so sexily encasing my legs and held up by those garter straps.  My pretty panties almost entirely hid the chastity cage – I stopped even thinking of it as that R.A.D. thing – and my feet were still in their sexy stiletto heels.  There before me at side of the bed was a man.  A tall commanding powerful man.  A man with that hunger in his eyes for the sissy sprawled out before him.  I loved that vision.  It was my fantasy and it was now coming to life.  I licked my lips in hunger and being devoured by that man as he smirked down at me and began loosening his tie.  It was a look of total power and control that I relished being on the other end of.  This just felt so right and so true for me.  I wanted to pop back up and rip that shirt off of him and then pull him down on top of me.  But, that wasn’t right.  I wasn’t in control.  I had no control.  A good sissy gurl doesn’t have any control.  She is controlled.  So, I simply lay back and began playing with my thickened nipples and running my hands along my lingerie covered body.  This, just like I’d seen all those other gurls do in the images displayed during my Therapy Machine sessions.  I pushed away the thought that my titties were too small as I promised myself to get them bigger in the future.  At last my writhing managed to spur my man to get the final button on his shirt loosened and then flung to the floor.  He briefly, and smoothly, stepped out of his pants and shucked off his shoes and socks before taking hold of my ankles.

He deftly pulled them up and pulled me back to the edge of the bed.  Clearly, this was not his first time with a gurl like me and I was glad for it.  He maneuvered my legs onto his shoulders and lined himself up.  As I felt his shaft nose itself into my rosebud he leaned in to me and forced my legs back as he did so.  He was so commanding holding me that way.  He leaned further in and brought his lips to mine again.

“You are such a pretty, pretty gurl” he cooed as he slid his cock into me.

As his shaft spread past my ring and into me I felt the first of my sissygasms explode through me.  I clenched the sheets with my prettily painted nails and whimpered out the ecstasy of my climax as he began to fuck me and kiss me deeply, kiss me possessively.  To kiss me as a man kisses and possess a sissy gurl like me.

My sissygasm was still electrifying me as Mr. Smith began to piston himself into me.  Smothering me with his kisses and wrapping me up in his powerful embrace.  I began roaming my hands all over him and relishing the firmness and power they touched.  This was right.  This was wonderful.  That was what being a sissy gurl was all about.  And this wasn’t even a little bit gay!  My therapy was working.

I’d come down enough from that first sissygasm to pay more heed to the man overwhelming me and I began to use the lessons I’d learned from my times in that Therapy Machine and all the times Doctor Wilson had so wonderfully been inside me.  I ran my hands along Mr. Smith’s ass cheeks as they flexed with each thrust of his cock into me.  I lightly dragged my nails along the flesh of his back and then ran them through his hair as he continued kissing me.  I lightly tweaked his nipples and was rewarded with his moans of pleasure.  And I began flexing my ass around his wonderful cock.

His thrusts were hitting my prostate in just the right wonderful way and I felt another sissygasm building.  As his pounding grew more intense and his kisses grew more forceful I knew he was close to cumming as well.  I wrapped my arms around his torso and held on tight as his pistoned away.  My nails began digging into his back and that must’ve turned him on as I felt him begin shuddering – just like my Doctor would shudder as I managed to milk his cock with my ass until he came.

That I was able to please another man in this way – as a sissy gurl flat on her back and with her ass full of his cock – was such a powerful and wonderful thing that I went over the top just as Mr. Smith did.  His thrusting slowed and he groaned deep into me as he continued kissing me.  I felt his cock spasm inside me and my own ass spasmed around his as I came too.  I made another wet sticky mess in my panties around my chastity cage.  The feeling was awesome.  Especially as he put his full weight on me as he came down, literally, from his climaxing.  Being so physically overwhelmed by another man was such a beautiful and powerful feeling.  I absolutely reveled in it as we both caught our breaths. 

It couldn’t have been but mere minutes since Dr. Taylor had left the room and here we both were happily spent after having gone at it like two sex crazed high school kids.  I loved it!

Mr. Smith gently rolled off of me and onto one side, still keeping his wonderful cock inside me.  I loved the feeling of fullness and heat.  We kept kissing and nuzzling each other.  He had truly been my fantasy come to life and I savored each second of it.  Eventually, his magnificent cock softened and he slipped out of my nicely fucked hole.  I felt his cum slowly ooze out of me and regretted not having my plug at hand to keep it inside me and save it.  He propped himself up on one arm and looked down at me again.  The hunger in his eyes was still there, sated for the moment but still there.

“Mmmm….  You are one sexy gurl” he purred at me.  I wiggled happily unto him at his praise.  He leaned in again and gently kissed me.  He stroked my hair and my face as he did so.  I was one happy sexy sissy gurl.  He broke our embrace as he leaned back again.  His fingers idly toyed with my pert nipples.  I really wished my breasts were bigger – much bigger – so that he could enjoy them more.

“That was wonderful Shelly.  Thank you for being such a wonder sissy gurl” he said as he tweaked my nipple with his fingers.  “I think however, our therapy session time is running out.” I feigned a pout and he kissed me before I could object.  I melted at that kiss and savored the feeling of being so well and truly fucked by such a superior man.  I could really come to enjoy such therapy!

With that, Mr. Smith sat up and began pulling his clothes back on.  I rolled over onto my side so I could better watch him getting dressed.  With each piece of his clothing he pulled back on it was as if he was some Medieval Knight putting back on his armor after having freshly ravished his princess.  I smiled at that thought and hoped that my time with him helped give him the strength to deal with his crossdressing attraction issues as it had given me and thus he could go and do battle with the world once more!  I giggled at that thought and he gave me one last kiss before knotting his tie fully up and shrugging on his jacket.  He picked up the room key and was soon out of the room with a wink at me.  I blew him a kiss and he smiled at me again.  I hoped we would have more Special Encounter Therapy sessions.  And soon!

I lay back on the bed and savored what I had just experienced.  I knew, firmly, in my mind that this was too right, too correct, and too good for me to have any doubts about my heterosexuality.  That it was only because I was so perfectly en femme that Mr. Smith was so sexually attracted to me.  That it was only because I had presented myself and behaved as a sissy and not as a man that we were able to be so intimate.  Thus there was no way I could be gay.  If I’d been in just boy drag – and without a bit of makeup on at all – and Mr. Smith had come on to me then he’d have been a queer for doing so.  And had I responded like I just had but not while so dressed then I’d have been a faggot as well.

But that’s not what took place!  I didn’t have to worry about any of that.  Our sex, our wonderful, intense, orgasmic sex, had only been possible because I had presented myself as being a sissy and it was only sissies that Mr. Smith was attracted to – not men.  And that, so long as I was only attracted to men taking me, sexually, while I was en femme as a sissy then it wasn’t – and couldn’t be, actually – gay for me either.  Doctor Wilson had assured me of this.  Through repeated therapy sessions.  Through all those times I had to focus on my breathing as he had me in the Power Dynamics Enhancement Position.  Through all the times he used his cock to “express” my prostate from having been in that R.A.D.  Through all of that, it just demonstrated again and again that I was entirely heterosexual and not gay at all.

My therapy was working!

I was so blissfully happy at all this.  That realization was just so wonderful.  The felling in my ass that only comes after I’d been so wonderfully and deeply fucked, and that post-orgasmic buzz still running all through my body left me so blissfully happy.  Happy and floating and so calm and assured and relived that my heterosexuality was so absolutely positive.  I lay there in that bed, wonderfully spent, and wished I could’ve stayed there like that all night.  Even while still in my bustier, my nylons and still wearing my stilettos, even!  I giggled at that.  “Oh Shelly!” I thought to myself “You are such a slut!  You didn’t even take off your heels when he took you to bed!”  I smiled a happy and sated smile at that.  Yes, I was a slut.  A sissy slut.  A happy sissy slut.  A happy sissy slut for men!  I rolled around in that big bed and reveled in the sensations of my nylon clad legs sliding around so sexily.  And the way my bustier still hugged me so tightly.  Even my wig had managed to stay firmly in place.  I started idly rubbing my oh-so-sensitive nipples again, wishing they were attached to actual breasts and wishing my “Mr. Smith” would’ve managed to have forgotten something so he’d have to come back into the room and get it.  And he could get me again before he left.  It was such a yummy series of thoughts.

They were rudely interrupted by a phone’s ringing.  It took me a second or two before I figured out that it was an actual phone ringing and that it was ringing there in the room.  I finally remembered that Dr. Taylor had used a phone in this room and then I saw it over on the small desk.  I managed to extricate myself from the bedsheets and pick the thing up if only just to stop its noise.  Bringing it to my ear I heard the familiar and wonderful voice of my Doctor on the other end of the line.  I love hearing my Doctor.  My Doctor’s voice is such a wonderful thing to hear.  I love listening to my Doctor.  My Doctor always tells me such important things.  I need to follow my Doctor’s instructions.  My Doctor is always right and I love to follow his instructions.

“Shelly, there you are!  Finally.  Did you fall asleep?”  He warmly chided me over the phone.

“Oooo.. Doctor Wilson”  I purred back at him.  I was still wonderfully buzzing from the Special Encounter Therapy session and didn’t want that happy floaty feeling to end.  I heard him chuckling on the other end of the line.

“Shelly, Shelly, Shelly.  You are such a silly sissy gurl, aren’t you?”  He gently chided me again.  I felt such a wonderful throb of pleasure flow through me when he said those words to me.  My Doctor.  MY DOCTOR called me a sissy gurl!  “Yes!!!  I am!”  I thought to myself!

“Shelly, you can’t stay there all night.  I know you’d like to.  And that means the Special Encounter Therapy session is achieving what it is supposed to achieve for you and for your Therapy partner.  But, I’m sorry my pretty, pretty sissy gurl, you have to get going.  Dr. Taylor has other Special Encounter Therapy sessions scheduled and they need to use that room as well.”  Doctor Wilson was so wonderfully gently forcible in getting me to get going.  I loved how commanding he was with me.  “Dr. Taylor will have you driven back here to my office and he expects you to be ready in just a few minutes.  So, get yourself dressed again you silly sissy gurl and be ready for him as quick as you can!  I’ll be waiting for you here.”

“Ooo.. Yes, Doctor!  I’ll be ready in a flash!” I assured him and quickly set about redressing myself as soon as I heard him hang up.  Actually, it was a pretty simple thing to do as we really hadn’t gotten much beyond the intensely wonderful hard fucking that us sissy gurls truly need and love.  As I was squirming back into my little dress I did ponder that thought; “the intensely wonderful hard fucking that us sissy gurls truly need and love.”  Where in the world did that come from?  Why did that pop into my head so all of a sudden?  I guessed it was just more proof of how wonderful and effective my therapy was that I could think such a thought and be so happy about it.

Soon enough I was all dressed again and was looking myself over in the mirror to see what damage had been done.  Not that I could do anything to really repair it.  There was no makeup for me to use at the vanity there in the room.  I didn’t even have a purse with any lipstick or mascara in it.  Well, the lipstick was a lost cause.  Our kissing and my cocksucking had ensured that.  But all that time spent in the Power Dynamics Enhancement Position had ensured that gagging from a bit of sword swallowing was something I now hardly ever did.  So there was no ruined mascara to deal with.  I made a note to carry a little clutch with me the next time so I could at least make sure my lips stayed nice and glossy for the ride back.  Nice and glossy so that I could see if that yummy chauffer, Richard, would help me with my breathing exercises.  “Mmmm….. I am such a sissy slut” I again thought to myself.

No sooner had I finished fluffing out the hair of my wig then did I hear a knock on the door and Dr. Taylor came in to the room.  I immediately stood up and curtseyed to greet him.  It was only right and proper for a sissy gurl like me to greet a man like Dr. Taylor by curtseying to him.  It’s what us sissy gurls truly need and love to do.

Dr. Taylor smiled warmly at me and stepped forward to give me a big hug.  I melted into his arms and snuggled myself into him.  His aftershave smelled so nice.  True, he wasn’t as nice as my Doctor Wilson but he was a doctor and he was helping me with my therapy through this Special Encounter Therapy session.  So it was only right and proper that I respond to him this way.  It was part of my therapy and he is a Doctor!  I must always obey my doctor’s instructions.

“Shelly, my dear.  That was wonderful.  My patient is speaking glowingly of his therapy session with you.  I think he made great progress tonight and you have really helped him address his issues.  I can see you made some good progress tonight as well” he beamed at me.

I basked in his praise and giggled.  I was still happily floating along from the righteously good boinking I’d just had so I was in no mental state to do much else right then.  He seemed to understand as he took my arm in his and was walking us both out the door we’d originally come through.  Soon enough we were back in the elevator again and I was resting my head on Dr. Taylor’s shoulders.  It just felt so right.  I looked at my image reflected in the elevator’s mirrors and I looked so wonderfully girly wrapped up around him like that.  I knew it would be a better image if my breasts were larger.  I needed to have actual breasts.  Nice, big, pert, breasts just like a sissy should have.  Just like a silly sissy gurl should have.  “Having nice big breasts is what us sissy gurls truly need and love to have.”  I thought to myself.  I was truly getting loopy from being so well fucked.  I just floated from Dr. Taylor’s arms into the limo as he handed me off to Richard.  I didn’t object at all as Richard’s hands cupped my ass to make sure I was steady on my heels getting in to the limo.  I just giggled a bit and winked at him once I’d gotten my tush in the seat.  My mind roamed to thoughts of his splaying me out across the limo’s hood and helping to keep my ass going with that nicely filled feeling.  It would only be right for me to do.  I mean, I’d nothing to tip him with so perhaps I could take his tip – and a lot more – inside of me as a thank you for being such a helpful man in getting me to and from Special Encounter Therapy session.

I was in such a wonderful erotic haze that I really didn’t pay much attention to the ride until Richard had brought the limo to its stop in the parking structure under Doctor Wilson’s office.  I shook my head to try and clear it a bit as once again Richard was holding the limo door open for me and helping me out of the car.  I know he got a nice view of my cleavage as I stepped out.  And that once again made me wish I had bigger breasts for such a real man to enjoy.  Having nice big breasts for real men to enjoy is what us sissy gurls truly need and love to have.  Richard let his hands linger across my body and down on to my ass in his maneuvering me out of the limo.  I purred at his attention and gave him a quick hug and a kiss on his cheek before turning to Doctor Wilson as he stepped out of the elevator.  Richard laughed and gave me light slap on my ass, propelling me to my Doctor.  “She’s all yours Doctor Wilson” he laughingly said.

I mockingly made a gurly little yelp at being “spanked” like that and practically leapt into Doctor Wilson’s outstretched arms.  I did make sure to turn back and wink at Richard.  He blew me a kiss and then got back into the limo.  I buried myself into Doctor Wilson’s chest and breathed in his manly scent.  I felt so warm and secure and safe and sexy and horny there.  It was a wonderful feeling.  He deftly maneuvered me into the elevator and soon enough we were back up in his offices and he had steered me into one of the examination rooms there.  I’d started to babble by then but he shoosed me by gently pressing his finger to my lips.  Which only inspired me to kiss it and try and wrap my lips around it suck on it.  He laughed and hugged me tighter.

“Alright you silly silly sissy gurl, it’s time for you to continue your Therapy” he chided me in that wonderful voice of his.  I nearly swooned.  “I want you to change out of that outfit and shower yourself clean.  You need some time in the Therapy Machine for me to properly evaluate the impact of the Special Encounter Therapy session you just experienced.” He instructed me with his gentle seriousness.  “Now, get going gurl!” he ordered me.

I rose to attention and snapped a salute back at him. “Yes Sir.  Doctor Sir!” I bubbled.  We both laughed.  And then I got busy following my Doctor’s orders.  Soon enough I was peeled out of my little bustier and nylons.  My panties were nicely soggy and sticky as I peeled them off.  The wig finally came loose and I used the face creams in the bathroom to get my makeup off before getting in to the shower to clean the rest of me.  As I was scrubbing myself down I pondered how much more efficient it would be if I got at least a base level of makeup tattooed on.  Nothing extravagant but it would save me a lot of time getting ready for my Therapy sessions.  I’d never thought about getting such a permanently marked on thing as a tattoo – let alone getting makeup tattooed.  I shook my head and wondered where all of these wild thoughts were suddenly coming into my brain.  Into my silly silly sissy gurl brain.  I smiled at that as I turned under the relaxing warmth of the shower’s spray.  I was a silly silly sissy gurl.  I was a silly silly sissy slut gurl.  Only the fact that I was going to be spending some time in the Therapy Machine kept me from working my nipples in the shower until I’d climaxed again.  I could not believe that I was this turned on.  But I was happy I was.

I was soon dried off, lotioned up and powdered down “just as us sissy gurls truly need and love to be” I thought to myself.  I pouted a bit that no super sexy bit of lingerie awaited me once out of the shower.  Just a wispy little baby doll and some matching fluffy three inch heeled marabous.  No sooner had I finished toweling off and had stepped into the heels then in popped one of Doctor Wilson’s cute little femmy nurses.  We hugged and kissed as she scooted me off to my Therapy Machine session.  I knew I needed to stay hydrated after such an intense Special Encounter Therapy session at Dr. Taylor’s so I happily accepted the glasses of water she plied me with as she strapped me into the Machine.  We both giggled at how easily the anal connection passed into me.  And she could tell how good it felt for me by my happy sighing and squirming myself around it.  The little minx made sure to play with nipples after she’d secured my arms to the Machine’s sides.  A nice, luscious, tongue dueling, deep kiss between us and then she settled the eyepieces over my face and snugged the breathing mask in place.  Through the little speakers in the earpieces she asked if everything was all set and I happily nodded.  With one last tweak to my nicely hardened nipples she started the Machine up.  I soon was smelling that wonderful scent as I breathed in through the mask and then I began hearing Doctor Wilson’s voice, my Doctor’s voice, through those headphones as I began to focus and let mind open so that the Therapy Machine could do its work.

I was soon floating along happily and wonderfully as Doctor Wilson was speaking so wonderfully in my ears and I was so happy to do exactly as he instructed even if I couldn’t comprehend of make out, exactly, what his instructions were at that moment.  I just knew they were important and that I would be a good patient for him by following my Doctor’s orders.  Following our doctor’s orders is what us sissy gurls truly need and love to do.  I was so lucky to have a doctor like Doctor Wilson.  He is such a good doctor.

I’d no idea how long I was happily undergoing treatment in the Therapy Machine but I knew it was a wonderful time.  I hoped that it’s operation was advanced enough to work past all the visions that had formed in my mind from the Special Encounter Therapy session so recently completed.  I put aside my worries and floated happily along. 

I just kept seeing myself back in that room in Dr. Taylor’s office and undergoing that Special Encounter Therapy session again and again.  I kept running that through my mind over and over.  And seeing it from different angles each time.  I got to see “Mr. Smith” ravishing me so wonderfully as if I were standing right there in that room looking at us from the end of the bed.  Then it was the same scene playing again in my mind but as if I was watching it while sitting up at the head of the bed.  Then as if I was standing on the other side of the bed.  I thrilled at the image of how “Mr. Smith’s” ass looked as he flexed that gorgeous cock of his into me when I had the vision of us as if I had been standing behind him while he plowed me to nirvana.  My imagination was so strong and detailed I could even hear myself during babbling happily away as “Mr. Smith” mounted me so deeply.  I was pleased that my voice sounded so feminine but I knew I had to work on that.  Perhaps Doctor Wilson could help me make my voice even more girly.  I floated along in the Therapy Machine’s treatment as I watched the little fleshy mounds on my chest jiggle with each thrust of “Mr. Smith’s” cock into my rear and wished so deeply that my titties were bigger.  Having nice big titties is what us sissy gurls truly need and love to have.  I was in such a happy wonderful place during my time in the Therapy Machine.

Eventually, the time in the Machine came to an end.  I never really remember when that happens.  I only know that it does and that I’m usually woken up from it when one of Doctor Wilson’s cute little gurly nurses rouses me by playing with my nipples or, if she’s truly devious, licking my sissy clitty through its “Restrictive Access Device” locked around it.  As my eyes fluttered open I realized it was Nurse Chrissi doing exactly that.  The little minx.  She was also tweaking my nipples and that felt so good I didn’t bother myself why I’d started referring to my cock as a sissy clitty.  A sissy clitty is what us sissy gurls truly need and love to have.  And I found myself wondering what it would be like to have such a small and soft and gurly little sissy clitty like Nurse Chrissi had.  I bit my lip and moaned as her fingers played my puffy nipples so wonderfully.  I really do need to have real tits, I thought to myself.

Noting that she’d finally gotten me to wake up, she immediately became all professional again.  Well, as professional as an obviously sissified nurse in a fetish nurses outfit that has her titties about bursting out of it and who’s skirt ends just barely below her ass cheeks can be “professional.”  The five inch heeled stilettos and white seamed stockings look great on her but aren’t what you’d expect most professional medical settings to allow.  But, Doctor Wilson knows the unique nature of his clients and knows that such attire puts them at ease which make their therapy more effective.

“There you are, silly silly sissy gurl!  It’s about time you finally woke up!” she feigned outrage at me.   “Time for you to get back into boy drag and get going!  Doctor Wilson let you sleep over last night.  That Special Encounter Therapy session you had at Dr. Taylor’s must’ve been very, very effective for you.” She said in her wonderfully femmy voice.  Her knowing smile made it clear she knew exactly why that session had been so “effective.”  We both laughed at that.  I’d have loved to have told her all the details but she was all business in getting me going.  Perhaps later.

Soon enough I was dressed in my drab and dull boy drag – although I did have my panties, garters, nylons and a teddy on underneath it all – and was checking in at the front desk before I left.  More nutrition supplements, more energy pills, and a new set of motivational CDs for me to listen to awaited at the front desk.  That damn chastity cage was still locked on me however.  Oh, I could tell one of Doctor Wilson’s nurses had removed it some time during the night, cleaned me all up, lotioned my skin down there, and then locked me away again.  I guess it was a good thing otherwise I probably would’ve jerked myself off raw over the weekend otherwise.  I was still that turned on.

Once back at my apartment I wasted no time getting out of my ugly boy drag clothes and wrap myself up in some wonderfully femme attire.  Then it was time in front of the mirror get my makeup properly back on.  I did my best at taping up my little mounds of flesh on my chest so that they at least looked more like the titties I knew I really needed and wanted.

Properly presenting as the silly silly sissy gurl I was, I broke out my dildo collection and had at it.  I was lubed up and shafting myself in no time.  Even with the “R.A.D.” crushing my sissy clitty as it tried, vainly, to get hard I was still, eventually, able to cum.  And cum.  And cum.  I set up one of my favorite dongs as I positioned myself in front a full length mirror by the side of my bed. I slowly impaled myself on dildo and felt its tip begin running right across my prostate in just the right way.  As it pushed along my “sissy G-spot” I fluffed my skirt out so that I covered myself down there.  I’d taken the time and knew I looked ever-so-sexy in my little corset, skirt, nylons and skyscraper heels.  I’d my best wig on and my makeup was perfect as I watched myself rock that cock inside me just right.  I worked my little sissy titties out from behind the top of the corset and began working on my nipples.  I was determined to cum just like a good sissy slut gurl should cum.  That is, with her sissy clitty locked away and her sissy pussy full of a big thick cock.

I watched myself in the mirror and saw the image of a beautiful sexy sissy slut looking back at me.  A bit more grinding that dildo inside me… A bit more pulling on my thick and luscious nipples… and a bit more imagining it was “Mr. Smith’s” cock inside me and I was soon right there at the edge.  I opened my eyes again, saw the silly silly sissy slut gurl looking at me again and then I imagined it was Doctor Wilson’s cock inside me.  Doctor Wilson’s cock… Doctor Wilson’s cock inside of me...  That I was Doctor Wilson’s sissy slut gurl and he had his cock inside of me…  That was it.  That drove me over the edge and ignited that sissygasm in me.

That climax was a deep one as my eyes rolled back up into my head and my sissy clitty pulsed its sissy cream out through the chastity cage and my sissy pussy clenched hard around that dildo inside it.  I came back to Earth and realized I’d cum so intensely that I’d fallen over.  I was glad I’d expected something like that and set the pillows around me to catch my fall.

I lay there and caught my image in the mirror again.  I looked for all the world like the silly silly sissy slut gurl of my fantasies and of my dreams.  I was, even having just blasted an orgasm through every cell of my body, still hungry for an actual man’s cock inside me.  I relished that hunger.  And did so without any guilt about it.  Wanting a real man’s cock inside me was what us sissy gurls truly need and love to want.  And I was a sissy gurl.  I was a completely heterosexual and straight man who was also a silly silly sissy slut gurl that needed a real man’s cock inside her.

I felt so calm and wonderful and at ease at accepting all of that.  My Therapy was working!  Even as I knew it was yet another pair of panties I’d have to hand wash before heading back to work on Monday, I knew my Therapy was working!

I was well on my way to being cured of my crossdressing and sissy urges!