Hypnotherapy II (Patreon)

Note: This is a story-prompt for Heathen.

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After that first session, Jake felt…lighter, somehow.

He didn’t know how to explain it, but…well, maybe there was something to this hypnotism stuff after all.

“You did great, Jake,” said Dr. Geller with a knowing smile. “I recommend one session per week, and we can increase the frequency later on. Does Tuesday at 10 work?”

Jake agreed, thanked her, then headed home.

Over the next few days, he continued to feel acutely conscious and insecure about his affliction, yet somehow it didn’t weigh on him the same way it had before. Maybe somewhere, deep in his subconscious, it was slightly less horrifying. Even, intriguing.

Still, it wasn’t much help to Jake. What did it matter if his subconscious mind felt better about it? His conscious mind was still sufficiently uncomfortable.

Give it time,something in the back of his mind urged.

It wasn’t as though Jake had any other options. So he counted the days until his next session with Dr. Geller.

-

“Really?” Jake groaned to himself as he awoke one morning. He removed his hands from his tank top, under which they had been groping at his chest.

It was the third morning in a row that he had woken up like this. It was weird, as he had never done this before. He wasn’t sure what it gotten into him lately. Jake wondered if this had something to do with the hypnotism. Was his subconscious mind trying to coddle the despicable growths? He shook his head and sighed as he sat up.

His face twisted as he stretched his arms over his head, his nipples proving surprisingly tender as they dragged against his tank top. It was probably from all the sleep-groping. He really needed to stop that shit.

Jake got up and started the process of getting ready for the day.

He was sitting in the kitchen, halfway through a bowl of cereal, before he froze, looking down at his breakfast in shock. He roughly shoved it away, causing it to crash to the floor. He had sworn off milk months ago and he wasn’t supposed to touch the stuff anymore. Jake didn’t even know why he had it in the house, there was just no way —

Last night, at the corner store. The memory abruptly replayed in his mind. He had picked up a quart of milk and placed into his basket, not even seeming to notice the action. Then he had taken it home and stuck it right into his fridge.

“Fuck,” Jake huffed. What the hell had gotten into him? His eyes shifted to the milk quart still sitting on the table, open. He lifted it and was shocked to find that it was already half-empty. “What the hell,” he muttered. When had he even had the time to consume so much of it? It couldn’t have been in the house for over ten hours. Jake put down the milk container and held his head. Was he losing it? Or was it…. Maybe the hypnotism was at fault for his bizarre actions.

It made Jake wonder what kind of effect all this was having on his body.He got up and went into the bathroom, hurriedly. He walked straight to the mirror and studied his reflection. His hands gingerly moved up to cup the small hills on his chest. He gave a sharp gasp at the contact. His chest was surprisingly sensitive, yet it felt strangely…nice, somehow. He pressed his hands a little more firmly. Against the heat. The fullness and softness.

They were definitely bigger. It didn’t seem possible, but they must have grown a whole cup-size, now more round and plump, while protruding obviously in his shirt.

“Fuck,” he groaned, finally wrenching his hands away. This was completely unacceptable! He was never going to see that hack of a hypnotist again!

-

Yet on Tuesday morning at 10 AM, Jake found himself planted firmly in the seat opposite Dr. Geller’s desk, truly baffled as to what had compelled him to return.

“How are we doing?” she asked him pleasantly. He found the pluralized greeting to be annoying, even mocking.

Jake fidgeted with his jacket as he narrowed his eyes at her. “Dissatisfied,” he said flatly. “This therapy is a joke.”

Geller pouted. “No improvement in your confidence level?”

If Jake thought about it, he was no longer plagued with crippling self-hatred, and no longer phobic of leaving the house. As a matter of fact, he had run a few errands the day before without issue. Of course, he had worn a baggy jacket to cover himself up.

Geller smiled at his hesitation.

“That’s not the point!” Jake sputtered. “I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling. I’ve been acting crazy these past few days.”

“Crazy, how?” inquired Geller, her red lips twisting to one side.

“Well, the other day, I — I bought milk.”

Geller gave him an odd look.

“Well, it doesn’t sound significant, but, uh…” Was he really having a fit about accidently drinking a little milk? He had been on autopilot. An old habit that had cropped up at an inopportune time. By the way Geller was looking at him, even Jake knew he was acting insane.

“I understand your reservations, Jake. Opening yourself up to change can be truly frightening. But why don’t you give it one more try before you call it quits? How about it? One more session?”

Jake drew in a deep breath. “Okay. Fine,” he said.

“Why don’t you take off your jacket?”

It was quite hot in Geller’s eccentric little office. Jake shrugged off his jacket, revealing the T-shirt he had on, his rounded breasts bulging evidently against the fabric.

Rounded. Jake absently stared down at himself. He had never thought of them as rounded before. They had been pointy, like anthills, awkwardly sharp. But lately, presently, they certainly had a round shape to them.

Had they gotten even bigger in only the past couple of days? Maybe he was just imagining it. Jake cupped them without even noticing.

When Geller cleared her throat, Jake quickly dropped his hands, surprised with his own behavior.

Geller just smiled, looking amused. She offered him the dish with those three familiar pills. “Why don’t we get started.”