Hypnothe-Rapist: Starr Scores Ch. 04

Wow, she telepathized to her reflection. I didn't expect him to make this much easier for me than as is usually.

Easy, Starr, slow it down a little, her reflection communicated back. You're forgetting, it's gonna be extra tough to just get him to sleep first. Remember, he's an insomniac.

Right, right, she thought. I'll just have to put Little Angie to "sleep," as it were, and focus on doing the same with him first. She took a breath and ran a little cold water on her palms, giving her face a light rinse with it. She toweled herself dry, slipped the door open and returned to the office.

Dennis had dropped his garments on the floor beside the sofa bed. Angie gathered them up.

"I'll be right back, Dennis, I'm just gonna put your clothes in my washer for you. And don't worry, I guarantee you they won't shrink or fade or anything, you can take my word on that. Unless of course there's anything here that can't be laundered?"

He turned in her direction. "Wha—?...Uh...well, no, there isn't, but...you don't have to do that," he said.

"It's perfectly fine, Dennis," she reassured him. "For one thing, you're gonna be under my trance for a couple hours, so there'll be more than enough time to wash and dry them, so they'll be all clean, warm and fluffy for you when you're done. And besides that, it's just a little bonus I like to give my patients when I can; your money's hard-earned, and hypnotherapy's anything but cheap. So I figure, at least I can save you a few pennies on detergent and fabric softener."

Head turned in Angela's direction, Dennis didn't say anything for the moment. Then once he heard the washer door open, he said, "...Well...thank you. That is so sweet."

Angie waved it off, even though she knew he couldn't see her. "Not at all. I consider it a privilege. My patients are more important to me than anything in the world. Besides, the sound of the machines humming can also act as a soothing mechanism."

She started the washer going to launder his outfit, and returned to the office to finish preparations. As always, she made sure the sign was clearly visible on the door, shut it, locked it and turned the light off. She grabbed her multipurpose pillow, tossed it beside the sofa bed, fetched her stethoscope and knelt on the pillow. Ten minutes of the CD had elapsed, but it ran eighty minutes total. More than enough time.

She leaned down beside him and spoke into the stethoscope's chestpiece, warming it up. "All right, Dennis, now we're just gonna totally take it easy," she instructed. "Unclench, Dennis. There's the magic word. Just let your whole body deactivate. Shut it down, Dennis. I know it's difficult, but here..."

She placed the stethoscope on his bare chest and moved it back and forth until she located his heartbeat.

"Close your eyes...give me your hand..." she rhythmically whisper-chanted. "I can feel your heart beating...do you understand?"

He subtly nodded. "Mm-hm," he murmured. He didn't seem to get the subtle song reference, which was good news to her. It meant his brain wasn't too overactive, and it was just relaxing, like she wanted.

"Good man," she mouthed. "Now I want you to do your best to take all thoughts, worries, concerns and problems of any kind, and lock them out of your mind. I know some of them will keep trying to sneak back in, it's okay. Just try to keep them outside, and shut the door on them. You just do your best. Try not to worry about a thing, especially about being able to stop worrying.

"Relax, Dennis. Relaaaaaax. You're totally safe with me. Lie back and let me take care of you. Nod if you can hear me," she said.

He did so.

"Wonderful," she breathed affectionately down to him. "Now let Dr. Angie hold onto your wrist, so I can keep a handle on your pulse till it and your heart slow down enough. Okay?"

He nodded again. "Okay doc..."

"That's my lad," she said. "Just do as I tell you, and everything'll be fine. Now you're gonna take some nice, deep breaths for me, all right? I want you to inhale, through the nose, while I count to eight. Go ahead..."

She counted. When she finished, she said, "...Good...and now exhale, through the mouth—nice and slow, same pace, and I'm gonna count again." When she finished, his pulse and heart hadn't slowed down in the least, but that didn't concern her. She knew how worked up he was, and his breathing was shaky and restless for the moment. "Again," she directed. "In through the nose...one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight...and, out through the mouth...one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight."

He didn't seem to be feeling extremely confident in his ability to remain calm, so she gave him some encouragement. "You're doing splendidly, Dennis. Excellent job. Just trust me...just keep doing as I'm telling you. Just enjoy the silence...enjoy the soothing, tranquil feeling of your deep, deep breaths."

Angela continued guiding his breathing and supplying him with verbal cuddling. From the moment he'd told her he was dealing with insomnia, she'd set about to shaving off as much time as possible to devote to bringing him down to the surface of slumber, but just not enough to compromise the integrity of his initial familiarity with her, so that he would trust her. She knew this would take a disproportionate amount of time. Thank goodness it wasn't the first time she'd treated a patient with insomnia. She had to be honest with herself the first time she did—on the very first occasion she'd treated an insomniac, a couple of years ago, she was terrified. As overwhelming as even the idea of insomnia was to her, being presented with the challenge of curing it out of a patient really intimidated her. Hypnotist versus insomnia; it was the ultimate test to which to put her abilities.

But she didn't allow it to intimidate her to the point of incompetence. She persevered, and with enough cooperation on the patient's part, she triumphed. She reigned victorious, as it were, over her patients' maladies. She couldn't describe the apparent invincibility that came with remedying a patient of virtually anything. It was a great and powerful feeling, the repeated confirmations that she could take anything that was thrown at her. At this point, she wouldn't allow herself to even consider the possibility of failure.

And then of course there was the other reason she adored having her beloved patients under her care. Right now, as she was focusing on Mr. Dennis Lunder, her honest nature wouldn't let her deny the hints of intimidation that were returning until she succeeded in putting him under. But she wasn't gravely worried. Actually, as she was having Dennis breathe for her, something else was occupying most of her attention. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something moving in the darkness of the office, only visible by the little bit of light through the window blinds.

She was successfully bringing his pulse and heartbeat down, degree by degree, but as she counted, she noted what was happening at the edge of the sofa bed, under the corner of the blanket. Dennis' right foot did indeed seem to be...she looked a little closer. Yes, it was. It was twitching.

So he did have Restless Leg Syndrome...or so it seemed. Perhaps the source of his insomnia wasn't so hard to isolate after all. Still, she told herself she mustn't immediately hop to the conclusion; it may not be as simple as that. She wished she'd been able to learn a little more about his medical history, but once she got him under, she'd communicate with his subconscious. And she'd become pretty good at determining additional info by doing just this.

She continued to have Dennis inhale and exhale for her, patiently waiting for his pulse and heart to slow to the preferred pace. It was, however, becoming a little more difficult for Angela to concentrate, what with the other little detail which had drifted into play.

Taking a few additional peeks behind her at his quivering foot, also brought to her observation was the way it puffed the blanket up and down, leading in turn to its evidentiary portrait of his naked body underneath. And as her eyes scanned up a couple feet from his feet, she saw something else she hadn't seen before. Though she couldn't be sure, and had only an implication of his form beneath her comforter, she was correct in speculating that Dennis just happened to be a quite well-endowed man.

Angie was keeping the chestpiece over his heart and her fingers softly slipped around his wrist, but suddenly, she was finding herself distracted from the part of him to which she should be paying attention.

"'Atta boy, you just keep breathing," she went on, trying to look him in the face, but feeling as if her eyes were being magnetized below his waist. She realized she could make out its natural form and length, even under the blanket. And it was nowhere near being erect; she hadn't even put him to sleep yet, let alone begun to stimulate him, manually or orally. Nevertheless, sooner or later, it would be all but impossible to look anywhere else.

Oh my God... Angie thought. If that's what it looks like NORMALly...holy smoke...

Dr. Angela Starr was getting herself into something of a proverbial pickle. She still hadn't quite gotten his heart and pulse rate down to the point where she could entrance him, and she was becoming captivated by the vision beheld below his midsection under the blanket. Look away, Starr, for God's sake, look away, she told herself. Just get him calmed down and get him under. We'll figure this all out then.

She forced herself to turn her head to him and shut her right eye, just to minimize temptation. She couldn't move her hands while she was still monitoring him, and obviously it went without saying she couldn't expose him or touch his manhood while he was still awake. She kept herself calming and nurturing to him on the outside. Inside was something of a different story.

Her mouth said, "That's it, Dennis...that's it, hon...keep breathing. You're doing so great. Awesome job."

Her mind said, Come on come on come on come ON COME ON COME ON SLOW DOWN!! SLOW DOWN AND FALL ASLEEP ALREADY GOSH-DARN IT!!

Her timing may not have been ideal, but he was calming down. As aforementioned, she wasn't worried in the least about curing his insomnia, but now as for keeping her libido in check until he dropped asleep...

Okay, just take it easy, Angie, she told herself. Forget about it until we get him down. He's almost there, we just have to hold out a little longer...

"That's it, sweetie...that's it, babe," she whispered, robbed of the cognizance that she was now calling him by loving, romantic pet names. Luckily, closer as he was to slumber now, he didn't notice. "You're so close...just keep it up, darling...just keep it up."

The "it" Angela was willing Dennis to "keep up" was of course his calm breathing finally leading him into trance mode. Something down below yet had other ideas.

Little Angie heard her owner say, "Keep it up," and assumed she was referring to something else. Even though this particular "it" was not presently even "up" to begin with, Angie felt it. Just as she decided his system had settled enough to take him into his trance, she felt it.

The premature tingle...accompanied by the initial drop of moisture wetting her inner thighs.

Oh, no, for God's sake, Little Angie, no, not now, not now! she thought. It's still not time yet!

As she finally slowed his heart down, hers sped up. "Okay, sweet—uh, Dennis," she corrected herself, "The time is finally upon us to bring you into your trance..."

...And not one damn moment too soon! added Little Angie.

"I'm going to count backwards from ten," murmured Angela, shifting her legs apart and scrunching the pillow upwards between them, "And you will finally be asleep, Dennis.

"Ten...okay, I'm going to remove the stethoscope from your chest now...

"Nine...I'm still going to hold on to your hand, though, just to keep your psyche familiarized with me...

"Eight...you've done so brilliantly well, Dennis, congratulations, you're about to achieve that blissful sleep you so crave..."

Her right hand relieved him of the stethoscope chestpiece. Keeping her left hand clasped on him, she plucked the earpieces from her ears and set it down on the floor behind her as silently as she could.

"Seven..." Her right hand now free, she plunged it under her pillow and bunched it up between her thighs to temporarily muffle Little Angie. "Six...five...four..."

Come on, hurry up! Hurry! Hurry! her stifled vagina still managed to shout up at her.

"Three..."

Be quiet, Little Angie, I can't rush this!

"Two..."

I don't care! her pussy argued. You saw the size of his cock, what more do we need? Now feed me!

"One..."

Oh, for Heaven's sake, hush! she repeated. Besides, you know the routine. You can't have his cock; all you're getting is my hand.

"And..." She silently snapped her fingers above his head. Initial mission accomplished; he was out.

It's not fair! Little Angie frustratedly complained. The mouth always gets all the fun!

Too bad, her owner said, feeling as always as if she had to discipline her like a spoiled child. Fellatio may be borderline, but intercourse is absolutely out of the question. That's the rule. You KNOW that. Besides, if we boinked him, he might wake up. Now once again, hush!

For five and a half years, Dr. Angela Starr's vagina had sat on the sidelines, watching as her owner tenderly gave her patients unconscious oral love, fellating penis after penis after penis. For five and a half years, Little Angie had felt twinges of jealousy, as just like she said, Angie's mouth had all the fun. Sure, Angie contented her sufficiently into silence with her fingers, but after five and a half years, those few small drops of envy had transformed into a tsunami of bitter resentment. And her pussy, which by this time had veritably developed a mind of its own, decided not to take it any longer.

Y'know what, one of these days, I might just have to MAKE you let me have it for once, she heard her pussy threaten.

Oh, don't be ridiculous! You don't control me, I control you.

That's...what...YOU...think...

What do you mean, that's what I think? That's what I know! I'm—...why am I even allowing you to make me fight you about this? Look, you're just getting my hand, as always, and that's that!

The washer softly beeped to let her know Dennis' clothes were ready to be relocated to the dryer. Whew, thank goodness, Angie thought. Awesome timing. She put them in the dryer, started it running, sat in her chair, opened the laptop, turned it away from Dennis, made sure the sound was muted, opened an Instant Message to Paula and typed as noiselessly as possible:

HI, PAULA. WHEN IS MY NEXT APPOINTMENT TODAY?

Paula was doing some updating of patients, both electronically and manually, when she heard the IM chime and noticed the small window pop up. She did a quick recheck and typed back:

NOON. ANOTHER NEW PATIENT, THIS YOUNGER GUY, MR. MARK

She paused typing as she checked the name. Her handwriting may not have been as illegible as Angie's, but it wasn't the easiest to make out either. She finished.

NUMAN.

Angela checked her computer clock. 11:16.

Oh, God. She'd need a lot more time than that.

PAULA, I'M AFRAID THAT'S NOT GOING TO WORK. THIS ONE I HAVE NOW IS TAKING LONGER THAN I EXPECTED. CAN YOU PLEASE CALL MR. NUMAN AND ASK IF HE WOULD MIND MOVING IT BACK TO 12:30 OR 1:00? THERE ISN'T ANYBODY SCHEDULED AT 2:00 OR 3:00 YET, IS THERE?

YES, ACTUALLY THERE IS. 2:30, ONE OF YOUR RETURNING ONES, MR. DAN KLINE.

Oh, GOD!

She sighed. OKAY, ANYBODY ELSE AFTER THAT?

THERE WAS, BUT THAT WAS THE CANCELLATION. AS OF RIGHT NOW YOU'RE CLEAR AFTER THAT.

Whew. Looked like she wouldn't be able to let anyone take advantage of that cancellation today after all.

ALL RIGHT, GOOD. PLEASE ASK MR. KLINE IF HE WOULDN'T MIND SCOOTING HIS APPT. BACK TO

She did some mental calculating.

3:30 OR 4:00, AND MR. NUMAN IF HE COULD MAYBE COME AT 1:00 OR 1:30 INSTEAD, AND LET ME KNOW WHAT THEY SAY. TELL THEM I'M TERRIBLY SORRY, BUT I'M RUNNING BEHIND SCHEDULE. ALSO, PLEASE DON'T BOOK ANYONE ELSE AN APPOINTMENT FOR TODAY.

WILL DO, DOC.

Angela exhaled, crossing her fingers as he again rose from the chair. It would seem she'd sunk a little deeper inside the proverbial pickle, and would need to work a little harder now to get out of it. Putting her immediate priorities in order, she reapproached Dennis. But she was interrupted once again.

Go buy me a vibrator tonight.

Oh, for God's SAKE! thought Angie, looking down between her damp thighs. Can't you control yourself??

I told you, lady: I control YOU.

She sighed inaudibly. Look, I'll take you in the bathroom and give you ten minutes right now if you promise to keep your lips shut for the next three hours.

Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee... Little Angie wickedly giggled.

So she compromised her normal order of operations, allowing Dennis to catch up on some much-needed sleep, and her persistent vagina to sell her a little time. She felt a little bad about it, putting off doing her actual job and just leaving him there, but Little Angie wouldn't let it be helped.

When did you become so insatiably hungry anyway? Angie asked her pussy.

Same time you did—when we saw the size of his you-know-what.

She quickly undressed. All right...all right... she said, But I'm just doing this right now to get you to pipe down. Don't think this means I'm just gonna do whatever you tell me all the time.

I don't have to think it... her pussy conveyed up to her ominously. I know it. You just won't allow yourself to admit that when you get excited, I OWN you.

Oh, that's ludicrous! I am more than capable of ignoring you!

Oh yeah? I made you take us in here and jill me off, didn't I? Hee-hee-hee...

You are being depraved today! What's the matter with you? You're acting so crude and naughty!

Perhaps you've forgotten—when you get horny, that's my JOB. Whenever you're aroused, I take over, and you have to listen to me. Now go out and buy me a vibrator tonight or I'll force you to start screwing the patients.

Angela took two seconds away from fighting with her pussy to quickly imagine herself whipping the blanket off of Dennis' body, groping him, instantly coercing him into rock-hardness, and sucking the hell out of his majestic cock until her throat couldn't take it anymore. Whole scene in mind, she aggressively drove her fingers in and out of herself, trying to assert charge, getting irritated at her vagina's refusal to submit to her and not vice versa. Take that, Little Angie, she ordered authoritatively. You cannot blackmail me into buying you a vibrator.

When you let me get wet, I sure as hell CAN.

Oh really? Well, you forgot one thing yourself, my little friend. You're still part of MY body, and in about five minutes, I'm gonna hypnotize YOU.