I sat down in the chair, brushing back my hair so that it didn’t hang in my face. I looked up at the doctor and sighed, trying to figure out how to explain what I wanted to talk about during this appointment. He could tell something was up, he’s a clever man and as a therapist he didn’t miss much. But he was letting me talk first, to vocalize my reluctance.
“I just don’t know if I want to be hypnotized this time doctor,” I said. I did not really want to explain why that was. Admitting to the fact that I had been having erotic dreams about being hypnotized and enslaved by the doctor did not seem to be appropriate. He was handsome, but…
He smiled and nodded, “Of course. Whatever you’re comfortable with. It has been useful in our past sessions, but if you feel that it’s not a tool you want to use at this time we can focus on other treatments for your social anxiety.”
He walked behind the chair and around to the other side. Moving towards his desk he adjusted his tie before sitting down. He picked up a pen and made a note in my file which sat open on the desk. The pen wasn’t one of the plastic pens that I was used to, but the kind that’s obviously expensive made from heavy materials. A gold band ran along the width of it and as he wrote it reflected light back at me. My eyes followed it as he wrote out the note.
Finished with the note he rose and moved to a chair closer to mine. Sitting in it he held up his pen. Even closer now the gold was much clearer, and much more eye catching. He seemed to fidget with it idly, not seeming to notice how every time his hand move it swung slightly, nor the fact that my eyes were naturally drawn to it.
As he played unconsciously with his pen he said, “Well that’s your decision Jessica. You’ve found being relaxed and hypnotized has been very helpful for allowing us to focus on your problems and allowing you to relax and let go. But if you do not want to focus and relax, focus and relax, then we can work on other methods other than hypnosis.”
I nodded, blinking and feeling dazed. Something about the tone of his voice and the movement of the pen seemed to have dulled my thinking. The doctor smiled at me.
“But you trust me, deeply. You know I am helping you,” he said.
I nodded, “You are helping me.”
“Hypnosis is helping you,” he said.
“Hypnosis is helping me.”
“You need to be hypnotized to get better.”
“I need to be hypnotized to get better.”
“You need to be hypnotized.”
The pen moved.
“I need to be hypnotized.”
“Sleep now Jessica.”
My eyes shut, and everything went dark. I floated, a voice was audible in the distance and I could see the gold of the pen in my mind but nothing was clear or firm. Like a long forgotten dream and it faded when my eyes opened.
I was the chair and naked, a strange taste in my mouth. My face felt sticky, but I didn’t mention it or think much about it. The doctor was zipping up his slacks.
“That was a very good session Jessica. I think next week you’ll be ready to move to the final phase of your enslavement,” he said.
“Enslavement?” I asked, feeling that the word wasn’t right.
He shook his head, “I said therapy Jessica. You know I said therapy.”
I blinked, nodding. Of course he said therapy. As I reached for my clothes I shook my head at my mistake. The doctor was so professional, how could I possibly think he had said something else. My own fantasies must be getting the better of me.