Hypnothe-Rapist: Starr Scores Ch. 04

Little Angie kept shouting taunts and threats at her, but she stopped listening. She continued vigorously fingering herself, knowing this may not be her most satisfying orgasm ever, but that she could at least get some work done afterwards. Her pussy for the moment was still incessantly jabbering, and it was starting to annoy her. Then she smiled epiphanously down on it.

I know how to get you to shut up, ya little devil... she thought. She pried open her labia wider with her left hand and circularly thumbed her now soaked clit. Repeatedly, over and over, and rapidly.

Well, if it didn't silence Little Angie, it certainly made it impossible for Big Angie to hear her any longer. Her head fell against the wall and she had to struggle like hell to stifle her voice from letting out a loud, desperate moan. Her whole body quivered and her eyes fluttered between open and shut. The fireball of pleasure shot through her and constricted her muscles and pulled her face into a straining, reddening cringe, as she held her breath for the impending 'o.'

She grimaced and whimpered, pausing only occasionally to grab a quick breath of air. Her pussy didn't seem to be grousing or holding ill will towards her so much anymore. Both Angies were now just dying for release. It wouldn't be too much longer, and that was a good thing, because she was more than normally pressed for time. She tried to include the time deadline as a factor in her mind just to sizzle it up still a bit more.

Her legs lifted off the floor. Her body slumped lower into the chair as she squirmed into the best possible position and parted her legs as wide as they would go. "Oh, God..." she groaned ecstatically, ramming herself wildly until she knew she just couldn't take any more. For the entire masturbation she had been fantasizing about sucking Dennis' cock, but suddenly...

Just as suddenly as she would drop to sleep one night and not even realize it, she took a second to step back and focus the mental tableau now igniting her the rest of the way. She wasn't sucking his dick in her mind anymore. It had—by way of her fantasy—replaced her fingers and was now penetrating her. Unbeknownst to her until now, she was about to jill herself into oblivion thinking about intercourse. A small part of her wondered how that happened, until she looked down at Little Angie, into whom she was still unstoppably plunging her fingers.

Her eyebrows leapt to life. It was her, Angie realized. It was her own pussy that had planted the seed of penetration in her mind. For five years now, her pussy'd been burning and yearning for penetration. Abruptly, having even the most glorious, delectable penis inside her mouth wouldn't do it for her anymore. Her mind needed it inside her pussy. Angela gawked down at her incredulously in the midst of her near-orgasmic frenzy. Why, you... she thought in disbelief. You tricked me! You sneaky little...little...SNEAK!

Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee! Little Angie replied. Gotcha!

Angela would have been raving outraged at this malicious deception by this little cunt—in every sense of the word—of hers...but she couldn't be just yet. The very same vagina had her on the brink of one of the most intense orgasms she would ever experience in her time on Earth. She couldn't bear to deny herself such a powerful release.

My God, she...she...I can't believe it, she...really DOES own me!

Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee...

"You...little...cu—..." Angela tried to form just that perfectly appropriate phrase, but couldn't get the last word out. All right, fine, she thought. We'll settle this later. For now, we've got a sleeping insomniac in the other room.

Yeah, so in other words, he's cured already!

Not for good. And like it or not, Little Angie, you're gonna be tranced into sleep yourself in...OH, HOLY GOD...in five seconds...four...three...

Just try not to drop dead yourself, babe. Now COME, ordered Little Angie.

"AHHHHH!" Angie shrieked as quietly as possible, which ended up not being very quiet. "AHHH! AHHHHHH!!" she softly howled, sparklers and fireworks going off inside her. Pinched shut, her eyes welled and dampened. She even managed to wring a little excess from inside of her and make Little Angie squirt several drops on the floor.

Suddenly, her pussy didn't have so much to say any longer.

***

August 9th, 11:48 a.m.

Angie raced back to her senses and cleaned herself up faster than ever, changing her panties and splashing her face. She checked the dryer. Dennis' clothes had about fifty minutes left in the cycle, hopefully roughly the same amount of time in which she could treat him. When she finally emerged and came back into the office, the laptop's screen had half-darkened to save power, but she could still see a repetitive blinking from its light against the wall.

When she got back to her chair, she found out what the blinking was. Paula had continued to send her IMs, and the IM window was blinking orange and green, indicating she had unread messages. She lowered herself into her chair to read.

Below Angie's last IM to her, Paula had written her several lines of patient update info. Under that were a few subsequent IMs wondering if she was still there. Oh yeah, she remembered, she'd run off right after giving Paula her instructions. She read the one directly following her own.

OK STARR, I'VE PHONED THE PTS. MR. KLINE SAYS HE GUESSES HE CAN COME LATER, LIKE 4:30 OR SO, BUT HE'S GOTTA BE OUT BY 7:30. MR. NUMAN SAYS THIS WAS PRETTY MUCH THE ONLY TIME HE HAD OPEN TODAY, BUT HE CAN COME TOMORROW, OR ANOTHER DAY. I RESCHEDULED HIM FOR NOON ON THURSDAY. HOPE THAT WORKS BETTER.

She processed it. Okay, so that means... She fell back in the chair with relief. Oh, thank goodness. This meant she now had much more time than necessary to carry out procedure with Dennis Lunder in full and follow up with him afterwards. She gave her fists a pump in the air and mouthed, Yes! Things had ended up playing out fine. She seemed to have wormed her way out of the metaphorical pickle...and now that she'd stuffed a metaphorical cork in Little Angie, she could finally concentrate on Dennis, tend to him and heal him with a clear mind. And of course give him the Starr Treatment*.

She typed back:

THANK YOU, PAULA, THAT'S PERFECT! YOU'RE THE BEST! REMIND ME TO GIVE YOU A HUGE RAISE FOR YOUR NEXT BIRTHDAY.

When Paula read that, she was amused, knowing (or at least presuming) Angela was kidding. She did receive an annual raise, but it was...well, not exactly huge, and not anywhere close to her birthday.

Dennis' foot was still twitching under the comforter. Luckily, it didn't seem to be disturbing his slumber.

She grabbed her hump pillow and flung it in the washer like the hundreds of times she had before. She sank into the sofa bed beside Dennis, leaned over him and started to caress his arms with her fingertips.

"Well, babe, I hope you've had a nice rest so far," she whispered. "Now time to heal you."

With her warm, sultry smile, she drew her legs up onto the bed behind her, brought herself down on his side, and slinked the fingers of her left hand between those of his right.

"Okay, Subconscious," she whisper-probed, "I know you've been on vacation for quite a while, but it's time to return to action. If you can hear and understand me, squeeze my hand."

She felt it. His hand and fingers pressed hers between them, and she felt that familiar shiver of warmth and excitement.

"Exxxcellent," she murmured in her trademark style, drawing out the 'x' and brushing her lips against his day-stubbled cheek. "Now Subconscious, we're operating on a little less info that I'd've preferred to have gotten, but that's okay; the important thing is that Dennis is sleeping now, and his energy and sanity are slowly replenishing. So I think we can rule out heavy stress as a factor. Now I did happen to notice we've got a little twitch or tremor in the right leg, so I'm leaning towards RLS as one possible cause. Now what I'd like you to do is, stretch the right leg and foot. Just go ahead, stretch the leg, flex the foot, point and curl the toes, and I'm just gonna—don't be alarmed—I'm just gonna lift the blanket up from the leg a little here..."

She held onto his hand with her left and exposed his leg with her right. As much as she wanted to uncover his entire body, she resisted, which wasn't such a problem now that Little Angie had been temporarily knocked out of commission as well. "Go on," she instructed, watching over her shoulder.

"Very good," she praised. "Now I'm gonna let go of Dennis' hand for a sec, 'cause on the chance it is RLS, you just keep stretching it, and I'm going to give him a little massage and try to work out the muscles."

She sat up and started rubbing and pressing on his leg, up to the thigh and down to the foot, then back again. Again, she was really thankful she'd been granted this extra time to spend on Dennis. It was certainly true of most if not all physicians/therapists, but Angela Starr's patients really did mean the world to her, and curing their ailments really did make her year. She said it to herself over and over, at least once a day, and yet it never wore off, the astonishment that she got to do this every day, full-time, for what would hopefully be the rest of her life. She didn't know if she wanted to retire, but she still had at least twenty-five years to think about that.

She remembered he said his foot was ticklish, so she was extra careful with it and watched his face to see if it started to wake him. When she was satisfied, she took his hand again and laid back down with him, hugging his leg with hers and continuing to rub it lightly with her own foot.

"You still with me, Subconscious?" she asked. "Squeeze my hand again."

Yep, still with her. "Good. Now again, Subconscious, do not be alarmed whatsoever. You're going to start to pick up some particular sensations, but whatever you do, you mustn't acknowledge them. You mustn't struggle or go against the doctor's will. Do you understand?"

Squeeze.

"Wonderful," she said. Bringing herself in yet closer to him, she nuzzled his face and softly whispered, "Just relax...that's it..."

Her right hand made its way under the blanket, found what it was looking for, and began fondling him. Again, she thought, how good of him to undress for her before they even got started and grant her such easy access.

"Just take it easy...settle down," she reassured him, stroking him gingerly under the comforter, holding on to his leg with hers. She gave his cheek a gentle kiss. "We're gonna continue to work towards the problem..." she soothed him, "Just by eliminating as much stress or anxiety as we possibly can."

Oh, it did feel sizable under the blanket. Angie's delicate, fairly petite hand was having a field day gliding and caressing up and down what felt like it had to be a half-foot-long penis. Wow, she thought. I hope I'm gonna be able to adequately, eh...handle him...

Penises this large were a little intimidating for her normal-sized mouth and throat, but she wasn't very concerned. In the hundreds of men she'd met and Starr Treated* in her career, she'd encountered just about every size cock imaginable, including the occasional more prodigious such as this. Actually, she felt a little anxious herself. There was always that tiny little rush that still presented itself with the revelation and exposure of the patient's manhood each time...it was a bit of a shame that that rush was much more intense and exhilarating the first couple of times she had done this, and after a couple of weeks, its novelty did wear off a little, but not the feeling of the actual fellatio itself.

Sometimes, just between her, herself and she, Angie thought it would be fun to apply a little whipped cream or hot fudge and turn it into a banana split, so to speak, but that wouldn't ever be anything more than a fun little fantasy. For a few reasons, she clearly couldn't do that with a real patient. But while she sometimes thought the fellatio could be considered as taking advantage of them, a situation such as Dennis' changed her mind.

She'd run into a surprisingly high number of patients whose complaints and disorders and so on—while they may have had other factors in play—could in one way or another be traced at least in part back to something amiss in their sex lives. The aforementioned stress, depression or anxiety, loneliness, manic episodes, even something more obvious, like overfrequent erections, impotence, or sexual hyperactivity, the TLC of Dr. Angie's Starr Treatment* virtually never failed to improve the quality of their lives to at minimal a fair degree.

Her own heart began to speed up once again as she rubbed his cock under the blanket and heard him silently moan, reacting and swelling to life in the protection of her nurturing hand. His moan stirred up that warm feeling inside her.

Yes, my darling...just let the Angel-doctor take care of you.

She leaned her face a little and let him feel her hot breath on his lips. Then her own vocal chords emitted a soft, nearly silent moan as she kissed them.

A butterfly entered her stomach. Ironically, she was less sure about kissing a patient on the lips than she was about sucking the essence out of his penis. To say that kissing on the lips seemed "over the line," but fellatio wasn't, would sound utterly laughable to most. But while both involved her lips, the connection that accompanied a kiss couldn't be achieved with a "hummer"...at least not in the same respect. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that kissing tossed a little pleasure back Angie's way. Well, so did the alternative, but again, not quite in the same way. Angie wasn't certain why...she guessed from the connotations of kissing she'd been instilled with at earlier ages, carrying more of an emotional attachment. Kisses were romantic and intimate, fellatio was...well, hot mouth sex.

But she wouldn't allow the kissing to reach an out-of-bounds point. She wouldn't allow herself to become too attached to any one patient, and she also didn't allow any tongues in her mouth (besides her own). And that was really just about as far as it went. Sometimes she'd let the thoughts progress logically like this in her mind, and then she'd realize that she'd been thinking too much and that her heart had slowed back down again.

So she focused on what her hand was doing instead, to get herself back into "suction mode." She unlipped his mouth and instead nuzzled his nose with hers. The butterfly became bored and left. She fondled and groped him a little more aggressively, descending to his neck and planting small peck-kisses starting down the center of his chest, giving him a sort of necktie of lipprints. When she worked her way down to where the blanket covered him, she left her hands to their tasks and nosed under it to push it off his naked skin. And the necktie lengthened and lengthened.

At last, her pattern of pecks extended to below his midsection until her mouth met her right hand. The former shoved the latter out of the way and took over, elongating her kissing pattern yet further. Her hand dug into the sofa bed to get under his balls and tickle them. When her lips reached the head of his now half-erect cock, she slipped her tongue out and slid it up the shaft.

His body shifted in response and he let out another quiet moan. She reflexively brought her head up, made sure he was still in blissful Slumberland, and returned her attention to his now three-quarters erect dick. She licked her lips, produced more saliva and delivered a series of tongue-drooling licks on all sides of his generously sized manhood. Then she heard a familiar nagging little voice again shouting at her from between her legs. She left his cock alone momentarily and looked to the floor.

Yup, she'd forgotten the hump pillow. Yet again.

Heaving a sigh and lifting her body back up, both as quietly as could be, she reached down and snatched it off the carpet.

Poor pillows...it looked as though two of them would be sharing the washer/dryer following this session. She resumed her position and crammed it where it needed to go.

Oh, sure, there you go with your mouth again, always the stupid mouth! Always! I'm telling you, so help m—mmmmfff!!

Shut up, Angie told her relentless Little friend. Hump the pillow.

Hummff duh pifwow! Hummff duh pifwow! Daffs aw I evuh do iff hummff duh goffdmm PIFWOW!

Tough. Angie relished reclaiming her position of dominance and control over her pussy. Now if you behave yourself the rest of the day, maybe I'll buy you a vibrator afterwards. MAYBE.

She proceeded to ignore Little Angie's usual outbursts, as she had finally coated the entirety of Dennis' penis with a layer of lubricating saliva. After the way her vagina'd been hounding and bullying her earlier, she couldn't help but feel a little schadenfreude towards it. Ha ha ha, she thought, grinning as she took the stiff cock into her mouth. Who's laughing NOW?

MMMMMMMFFFFFFF!! her helpless pussy objected.

Keeping her (mouth's) lips moistened up and down the dick, she gripped and tugged on it with her jaws and cheekbones, perhaps her favorite method of sucking a cock, and one with which most patients obviously had no issue. As she slid back down it as far as she could go without deep-throating herself into a choking fit, she gradually loosened the oral grip. And back up to the top, she tightened up on it once more, as always giving the super-sensitive spot below the head that little extra bit of lovin'.

Her (non-dominant) left hand was still holding his right hand, helping him maintain tangible familiarity to keep his subconscious from becoming suspicious. Her right hand was hard at work underneath, fondling and jiggling his balls, and working its own way still further back behind and under, little by little.

She could of course never tell for sure how long it will take before any given patient reached orgasm, but she could also always detect the telltale sign when it was imminent: the balls drew up and tightened at the base of the cock. Here would be where another of her favorite segments of activity was met with—what did he taste like? If she got an idea of his diet, she'd have an idea how the come tasted, but still, every man's consistency was the tiniest bit different, to her discerning palate.

While she supposed she could've made a note in her patient log about it to use for reference with returning patients, she didn't. Besides the desire and preference to be surprised each time, should anyone else ever happen to catch sight of such comments on her computer screen, she'd have a hell of a time explaining.

She went on, impressively as ever. She sucked, and sucked, and sucked. She so adored this creamsicle-like feeling. She did wish, though, that she had use of both hands. Or a third. Eventually, she slipped her left fingers out from between Dennis' and gave his hand a soft caress, so that it would be (hopefully) almost unnoticeable that her hand had abandoned his.

Now that she did have both hands free, she let the cock out of her mouth, quickly gathered some more saliva and slicked both her palms. Her right emerged from under the balls and her left took its place, while her right hand latched onto the bottom of his dick where her mouth couldn't reach and stroked him.