Mind Control Therapy

Authoress's notes: The following story is a sequel to my story MC at the Dog Pound. It's one of my earlier works, so all you need to know is that Dave Smith can only control women's minds, and it takes him a bit of time to do it. This story is inspired my Marlissa's story The Practice in particular and most of Downing Street's works in general. Please read and enjoy all of my stories, vote me a 5, and feel free to leave me feedback on my profile.

*****

Dave Smith gazed out over the sparkling waters of the bay from the balcony outside his thirty-first floor office. Life was great. He had a very unique gift—the ability to control the minds of women—which had helped make him a very wealthy man over the years. He owned a twenty-five hundred square foot luxury condo in one of the most exclusive buildings in the metro area, right on the bay, just a few blocks from his office.

He had about ten million dollars invested in the stock market, and nearly a hundred rental properties throughout the country that earned him a little over a hundred grand a month, after expenses. His investments were managed by a Wharton graduate. She wasn't super attractive, but she was very good, which was more important when it came to his money. He also owned several high-end luxury cars, a yacht, and a small adult-orientated production company.

A few months ago he had ran across Doctor Katherine Parker at an upscale nightclub. After chatting with the good doctor a while, he got the idea to join her in her work. Katherine, or Kitty Kat, as he called her now, was a psychiatrist with a lucrative practice listening to rich people whine about their problems.

It wasn't too much trouble for Dave to convince Kitty Kat to let him take a few of her clients. He even came up with a couple of fake diplomas to display on his office wall.

Of course he didn't try to treat anyone with an actual mental illness. He just had Kitty Kat give him some of her more attractive female clients with lesser problems. He repaid her by convincing her to spend more time in the gym, and dress quite a bit more sexy. These days she happily wore tight tops, miniskirts, and high heels to the office, and even less away from it. Her male clients seemed to appreciate that quite a bit.

Dave also greatly increased her clientele by having all of his patients enthusiastically recommend the practice to their rich friends. Ironically, he had discovered he was practically a miracle worker when it came to stuff like getting women to lose weight. He was able to make them focus completely, even to the point of obsession, on giving it their all in the gym on a daily basis, and eating only the healthiest of foods until they hit their ideal weight.

"Doctor Smith, Mrs. White is here to see you," his assistant's cheerful voice said over the intercom.

His personal assistant was also his valet, maid, and whatever else he needed her to do, including frequent sex. She had been a college student he had found on the beach about ten months ago. She looked fantastic in a bikini, and even better out of it—especially with the double-D implants he had gotten her. Like Doctor Parker, she favored tight tops, tiny minis, and towering stiletto heels at work—and away from it. She was also an expert cock sucker.

"Thank you Mandi," he answered. "You can send her in."

"Yes Doctor Smith," she replied obediently.

Dave rose from behind his desk, and greeted his client between the black leather couches he used to treat his patients. Megan White was in her mid-thirties, with chin-length brown hair cut in the latest style. She was a few pounds overweight, but hid it well underneath her designer suit and heels. She was a marketing planner or something, and was paying three hundred dollars an hour for his services.

Doctor Parker had originally quoted her a price of one-fifty an hour. After Mrs. White's first session with her though, Kitty Kat had transferred her to him. After Mrs. White's first session with him, she agreed pay more for the privilege of letting him make her into a better woman. Most of Doctor Parker's clients paid around one hundred to one-fifty an hour, while he charged around two-fifty to three hundred, depending on how much they could pay, and how much he liked them to start with. He didn't let a few measly dollars get in the way of a making a few adjustments to a woman, though.

"Mrs. White," Dave said, shaking her manicured hand.

"Doctor Smith," she answered.

They settled down onto the couches, with the coffee table between them. Dave glanced at his notes, which were on an iPad. This was Megan's third visit with him. She was looking for help with stress, mostly from work. The last two weeks he had given her a few tips; now he wanted to see how they were working out.

Normally Dave saw a client for an hour or so on the first visit. That was always plenty of time to get into their head and take control of their mind. After that he would only see them for fifteen or twenty minutes a session to see how the changes he had made were going, and make any more he wanted.

Of course he would still charge them for the full hour, which they didn't mind, not that they had any choice in the matter. Some days he managed to bill six or seven hours worth of work, even though he was never in the office before nine, and most days he was gone by two.

Every single woman that found her way onto his couch left a little closer to what he thought a woman should be. Virtually all began spending more time in the gym, and on their appearance in general. They always became more accommodating towards the men in their lives, and Doctor Smith himself. If they didn't have a man, finding one quickly became an obsession. Actually finding a different man on a regular basis usually became an obsession.

"So Megan, have you been doing what I've suggested when you feel stressed at work?" Dave asked her.

"Um, yes, Doctor," she answered, somewhat embarrassingly.

The marketing planner had certainly dressed more eye-pleasing today. Her Gucci mini stopped several inches above her knees, and her top displayed a bit of her modest breasts. Her Prada heels looked at least three-and-a-half inches high.

"And how did it go?" he asked her, eyeing her stockinged legs. She had been pretty bitchy when he'd first met her, so he'd given her a bit harsher set of instructions than he gave most women the first time.

"I gave eight blow jobs to six different coworkers since last week," she explained, looking down in shame.

Dave smiled. That was more than one a day, and to six men. She was well on her way to being the office slut, if she wasn't already. Now he had to push her along.

"Good. Now I want you to keep flirting with all the men in your office. Let them know that you'd be happy to give them a quick suck anytime during the workday. It doesn't matter if they're married or not. All they have to do is ask."

Megan looked up in shock, then silently nodded her head in obedience.

"And start dressing more like a slut. Does your office have a dress code?"

She numbly nodded her head in consent.

Dave rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Dress as sexy as you can without breaking it. Make your boss tell you when you've gone too far. Only wear skirts, no longer than mid-thigh. Your tops should be tight too."

Megan squeezed the armrest as she nodded her head again.

"All your shoes should have at least five inch heels. Practice in them as much as you can until you're walking a like a pro. Then move up to six inchers. Go online to get tips on how to walk like a stripper on the prowl."

"Yes Doctor," the marketing planner replied.

Dave thought about having her spend more time in the gym, to look better for the men in her life, but decided that could wait until next week. Sometimes when he tried to do too much at once some stuff didn't stick right.

"Now, get out of here, and get yourself some real shoes. Confirm your next appointment with Mandi on the way out," he instructed her.

"Yes Doctor, thank you," Megan White answered, rising to her feet.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Recently Dave had run into a city councilwoman and a city auditor at a local restaurant. After chatting with the two ladies a bit, he decided that he and Kitty Kat would offer the city discounted counseling services. While Dave didn't really care one way or the other about city bureaucrats, he did like women in uniform. Doctor Parker could deal with the city employees with real problems, while he would get to have some fun with the city's policewomen and any other sexy civil servants.

Today Dave was seeing a female police officer who had shot some drug dealer in the line of duty. She couldn't return to work until he or Doctor Parker signed off on her mental well-being. Kitty Kat had already decided she was okay to go back to work, but he had left standing orders to see all policewomen that came into the office.

Officer Kayla Miller was twenty six years old, and looked to be about five-seven, and around a hundred and thirty-five pounds or so, with short reddish hair. She was wearing a simple dressy pants-suit, with boring flats. Her badge was partially visible on her left hip, along with her gun in its holster on her right.

"So Officer Miller, I understand you had to use your firearm in the line of duty," he began once they had settled down. "Do you want to talk about that a bit?"

She frowned slight before replying. "I already talked about this with Doctor Parker," she said impatiently.

"I'm very sorry," he replied placatingly. "She's been a bit under the weather, and I've taken several of her patients for a couple of days," he explained. "I'm just trying to get up to speed."

That was a lie. Doctor Parker was in her office seeing someone at the moment, but Officer Miller didn't need to know that, or why she was really seeing him now.

She let out a sigh. "My partners and I were conducting a stop-and-frisk on a drug corner. One of the dealers took off. I chased him and he pulled a gun on me, so I shot him," she explained calmly.

"And how does that make you feel?" he asked, nodding his head in understanding and pretending to write notes. He had gotten pretty good at sounding like a real therapist, if he did say so himself.

Dave wasn't really interested in what happened. The city had already decided it was good shooting, and he had no sympathy for someone that would shoot at a cop over a drug bust, especially one so cute. He was just letting her talk while he worked his way into her mind.

Kayla shrugged her shoulders. "He shouldn't have pulled the gun," she answered. "I'm fine with it."

"Well, what made you decide to be a police officer?" he asked, playing for time so he could implant some suggestions in her mind.

She smiled a bit. "My whole family is pretty much in police work. I'm a third-generation officer. It's all I've ever wanted to do."

"Impressive. How long have you been on the force?"

"Four years. Right out of college," she responded with a nod.

"Well, what sort of police work are you doing these days?"

"Mostly patrol, but I'm on the city's anti-drug task force. Interdictions, undercover buys, sells, stuff like that," she explained.

Dave let her talk for quite a bit, prodding her as necessary. Meanwhile, he was deciding just want to do with her. He could always have her bring him some marijuana. While he did enjoy smoking pot every now and then, he didn't do it very often, as drugs made it harder for him to influence women's minds, which was far more rewarding than merely getting high. Besides, he didn't want to completely destroy her career, at least not immediately. Finally he realized what she could do for him, and he felt confident he could control her mind enough to make her do it.

"By the way, Officer Miller, do you have your handcuffs with you today?"

"Yes," she answered, obviously confused.

"Good. I want you to give me the keys to them," he instructed her, exerting a little pressure with his mind.

"Okay," Kayla replied warily, reaching into her pocket and sliding her keys, across the coffee table to him.

He smiled as he picked them up, and set them on his chair's armrest, well out of her reach. "Thank you. Now take out your handcuffs, and cuff yourself behind your back."

She stared at him a moment. "O-kay," she finally responded, leaning forward and reaching for the small of her back.

A moment later she had pulled out a pair of shiny silver handcuffs. Dave smiled as she snapped one cuff around her left wrist. He loved seeing women in handcuffs. Then she put her hands behind her back, and he heard the other cuff ratchet closed. Watching a sexy cop cuffing herself was always fun.

"Stand up and let me get a good look," Dave told her.

Officer Miller hesitated barely a moment, then silently stood up, and turned away from him, displaying her cuffed wrists.

"Very nice," he commented as he leaned forward, and tightened both cuffs a few clicks. Dave was now more than satisfied of his control over her.

"Let me see your phone," he said, reaching out and taking it out of its case on her belt without waiting for her to answer. "Now, sit back down," he added, once he had the smartphone.

The cuffed policewomen obeyed, still obviously confused by her behavior.

Dave swiped his finger across the screen, and a request for a code immediately appeared.

"What's your password?"

Officer Miller took a deep breath, obvious reluctant to divulge the information. Finally she gave in.

"One-Four-Seven-Two."

He keyed the sequence in, and the phone's homescreen appeared. "Why that number?"

"It's my badge number," she responded.

Dave admired her cuffed wrists a couple of seconds, then hit the intercom built into the coffee table, and told his assistant to join them. She appeared a moment later.

When Dave took over Kitty Kat's practice, he implemented a sort of dress code for her, her assistant Shannon, and Mandi, who he brought in as his assistant.

Mandi was wearing a tiny black pinstriped minidress, with a short matching jacket over it to make it just barely acceptable for an office. The top part of the minidress was a tight fitting corset with a half-cup bra. Even with the jacket her double-D tits were presented like a pair of melons. Without it her nipples almost popped out.

Mirror black pumps with six-inch heels were on her feet. Her black stockings were held up with a matching garter belt, which was her only underwear. A half-dozen bangle bracelets, alternating in black and silver, were on right wrist, and two were on her left, along with a silver cuff-style smart watch.

"Mandi, put my number and information in Officer Miller's phone," he told her, passing it to her.

"Yes Doctor," the twenty-one year old blonde replied cheerfully.

Then Dave remembered his patient's keys, including the key to her handcuffs, sitting on his armrest. "And hold on to her keys," he added, handing the keys to his sexy young assistant.

"Of course, Doctor," Mandi answered cheerfully, glancing at Officer Miller sitting meekly with her hands behind her back.

Dave was pretty sure Mandi knew she was handcuffed. She was very aware how much he loved women in bondage.

He glanced from Mandi to Officer Miller, who was eyeing her keys and phone with obvious concern. "What was the password to your phone again, in case Mandi needs it?" he asked her.

"One-Four-Seven-Two," Kayla provided obediently.

Mandi nodded her head, glanced at Doctor Smith to see if he had anything else for her, then quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.

Dave knew that besides his phone number, Mandi would install some very cutting-edge spyware onto Officer Miller's phone. That would allow him to monitor all of her calls, texts, and internet usage, as well as track her location. He had acquired the software from a couple of extremely gifted programmers he knew.

His main programmer and hacker was a guy, but Dave had convinced him to provide him the latest software he needed for a regular visit from Paige, his driver, and Nicole, a woman he used for sex with other men. Paige brought him a few hundred in cash a week, and Nicole entertained him an hour or so before they returned with the newest updates.

Dave's other programmer was an overweight woman that worked for the NSA. He was a lot more careful about what he got from her. He definitely didn't want the government involved in his affairs. Still, she made sure his computer software stayed at least close to what the government had. She also would tip him off if the government started taking an interest in anything he was doing.

Once Mandi left, Dave turned his attention back to the sexy looking cuffed policewomen across from him.

"You look fantastic in those cuffs," he told her with a wide grin

"Tha—thanks," she replied nervously.

"You ever wear them off duty? For fun?"

"No!" she answered quickly. "Well, once."

"Really? Tell me about it," Dave instructed her.

"It was right after I joined the force. I went out with a guy a few times and he wanted to handcuff me. I let him—once," she explained.

"In front or behind your back?" he asked.

"In front."

"And what did you do while those cuffs were locked around your cute wrists?"

"We had sex," she replied meekly.

"So why did this only happen one time?"

"I broke up with him afterwards," she told him.

Dave shook his head. Typical. "Well, from now on you love the feeling steel around your wrists. You can't get enough of it." He paused long enough to push that desire into her mind, then asked, "How many pairs of cuffs do you have?"

"Um, two," she responded. "The ones they issued me."

"Buy some more. Start a collection. Get yourself some hinged cuffs, rigid cuffs, all kinds. At least a dozen pairs. Start with two pairs of pink cuffs to carry on duty, understand?"

"Okay," she answered with a simple nod.

"You need to spend as much of your off duty time as possible in handcuffs," he told her.

"Okay," she repeated, nodding again.

Dave had a few more ideas, but he didn't want to push things too far the first day. He glanced at his watch, and decided Mandi should be finished installing his software on Kayla's phone.

"Good," Dave told her with a nod. "Call me when you have the pink cuffs, so you can come show them off for me."

"Okay," Kayla replied, climbing to her feet. "What about these?" she asked, turning and displaying her cuffed wrists.

While Dave always carried a cuff key, he didn't reach for it. Instead he leaned forward, and hit the intercom again.

"Mandi, are you finished with that last thing?" he asked his assistant.

"Yes Doctor," he answered promptly.

"Good. Bring Officer Miller's things in here."

"Yes Doctor."

A few seconds later Mandi appeared, carrying Kayla's cell phone and keys.

"Mandi, please uncuff Officer Miller for us," Dave instructed her.

"Of course, Doctor Smith," she replied cheerfully, setting the cell phone on the couch next to her.

Kayla obligingly stood up, obviously embarrassed, and turned away from her.

"Leave both cuffs on one wrist," Dave told her as she inserted the key.

Mandi smiled at him as she uncuffed her right wrist, then quickly snapped that cuff around the Officer's left wrist.

"Um, so I'm not cleared to return to duty?" Kayla asked, self-consciously adjusting the cuffs.

"Sorry," he answered truthfully. "It had slipped my mind. Mandi will give you the form on the way out. It's already been signed."

"Thank you Doctor Smith," Officer Miller told him as she headed towards the door, still fiddling with the cuffs on her left wrist.

Dave watched Officer Kayla Miller walk towards the door a few heartbeats. He was definitely looking forward to having some fun with her, but his eyes couldn't help but move over to Mandi's gorgeous ass as she strutted out of his office on her six heels. He hadn't told Kayla how long to leave the cuffs on. He was curious how long she'd keep them on herself.