Immersion [Tier 2 and Tier 3 Exclusive] (Patreon)

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He sighed, struggling to get the words out: “I...took off all my clothes, and I left them in my bedroom. I had these...uhm…”

“You can say the word, Matthew,” Dr. Willis said with a gentle smile. “Go on. What did you have?”

“P-panties. I had some panties.”

“Describe them for me.”

“They’re, uhm, pink. Well, pink and black. With a black plaid print on them.”

“Are they yours?”

“No....”

“Where did you get them from, then?”

“I took them,” he said. He paused, willing to let that be the end of his sentence, but he knew that she’d ask him to elaborate. “They’re Stephanie’s. My girlfriends. She...doesn’t know I had them. Well...she didn’t at the time. She knows now.”

“And so you put them on?”

“Y-yes.”

“What then?”

“I...just walked around the house in them.”

“Did you do anything in particular?”

“I mean, I was just...doing normal chores and stuff. But…”

“But?” She paused and added: “I realize that some of these things are hard to talk about, Matthew. But you need to remember that you can trust me. Just be open with me and tell me everything. I shouldn’t have to keep asking you to elaborate.”

He blushed and nodded. “S-sorry. I’ve just never said these things out loud before.”

She smiled and nodded.

He tried again: “I was doing chores. But...I was, like, hard in my panties.”

“Hard?”

“Erect,” he clarified. “It was tough to concentrate on anything while I was wearing the panties. And it eventually got to the point where I just had to drop everything and…” he started to drift off again, but Dr. Willis nodded reassuringly, reminding him that he could just say what he had to say. “...I started rubbing myself. Through the panties. Right there in the middle of the kitchen.”

“But that’s not where this story ends, is it?” she asked, recalling the synopsis of the situation he gave her at the beginning of their session.

“N-no. I was just standing there...rubbing my panties, and… Stephanie came in. I wasn’t expecting her to come over. Or...I forgot that we made plans. I’m not sure. But suddenly she was in the house, and the first thing she could see - the only thing she could see - was me standing in the kitchen while wearing her panties.”

“And rubbing yourself,” she added.

“Right…”

“How did she react to that?”

“She was furious. She stormed right back out the door. She wouldn’t return my calls for hours.”

“Have the two of you talked about it since?”

“We finally talked about it. I think she was more upset that they were her panties. Like...she didn’t want to shame me for wearing panties. But...she felt that because I took her panties there was, like, this element of deceit to it.”

“How are the two of you doing now?”

“We’re...okay. I guess. She’s not mad at me anymore. But we haven’t talked about the panties at all. Neither of us can bring it up.”

She nodded and glanced over some notes she had made for herself while he spoke. “There’s a lot that we could be addressing, Matthew. But I think the biggest question I have for you is: What do you want to get out of this? Do you want to be able to walk away from the panties? Or...do you want to embrace them?”

His eyes widened and he scratched his head. He hadn’t considered having an option. After these last few sessions of talking to Dr. Willis - he believed that she’d help “cure” him of this fantasy. A fantasy that had, up until this point, seemed delusional.

“You think...I could embrace panties?”

“Of course,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. “Aside from how society thinks about men who wear women’s clothes, at the end of the day, panties are just...underpants. There’s a lot of reasons a man may want to wear panties. For some people, maybe it’s the first step towards admitting they’re transgendered. For others, maybe they just like how they feel. I imagine most men’s underwear are pretty boring, by comparison.”

He nodded. He was pretty sure he didn’t want to be a woman. But...there was something there. Something in between liking the feeling and wanting to be someone else entirely. He simply hadn’t ever considered that maybe it was okay that he wore panties.

“I’d like to propose something,” she said. “You can say no. But I want you to think about it before you answer.”

“Okay.”

“I have experience with a process I call ‘hypnotic immersion,’ that I find helpful in situations like this. Are you familiar with it?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head.

“You’d be placed into a sleep-like state, and through hypnosis, I’d make some suggestions to you. Think of it as...hacking your mind. I’d carefully provide your subconscious new perspectives on behaviors that challenge your conscious mind. Then, over time, we’d slowly walk back the hypnosis, leaving you feeling already immersed in that new behavior.”

“That...works?”

“Honestly, it’s not the sort of procedure that I offer many of my patients. Playing with one’s subconscious is not something to be taken lightly. What more, there are some behaviors that you can’t fix just by tweaking a few small ideas. But for you, who just wonders about whether or not they should be wearing panties? I think you could benefit from this. It could allow for you to focus more on what the panties mean for you, rather than whether or not you should have to wear them in the first place.”

“So...how does this work? You hypnotize me into thinking that I should just...like panties?”

“Maybe. It’s unpredictable what the end result looks like. I’d pose the idea to your subconscious that you are completely fine with the idea of wearing panties. And then it's up to your mind how that’s translated. Maybe it makes it easier for you to put panties on. Maybe just the act of wearing panties feels especially warm and comforting.”

He nodded, understanding but apprehensive.

“Like I said, Matthew. Think about it.”

He’d think about it. A lot. In fact, it was all he would think about for the next week. He’d wake in the morning, wondering what it would be like to be okay with the idea of just immediately sliding into some panties for the day. He’d daydream about it while at work. He’d dream about panties at night.

There were a few times when he’d take one of his secret pairs of panties out of the closet - pairs he had swiped from Stephanie or he had bought for himself. Maybe, he thought, if I’m open to the idea of being hypnotized into accepting panties, I’m actually okay with...just wearing them now. But no sooner than stepping into them, a crippling sense of humiliation would overtake him. It was an all-consuming wave of overstimulation. He was turned on, while left feeling pathetic.

He needed to see Dr. Willis again.

“The process is actually very simple,” she said in their next appointment. “I’m going to give you some very simple prompts to follow, and then you’ll be in a deep trance-like state. While you’re under, I’ll be interacting with your subconscious. You won’t even know it’s happening.”

He nodded, nervously pondering what things would be like when she was finished.

“I want you to close your eyes, Matthew. Lay back on the couch. I want you to focus on my voice.”

He nodded.

“Will you count down to zero for me? From twenty? 20. 19. 18…”

“17...16…” they said in unison.

There were some additional prompts and things said. He responded as he should, but things were slowly getting fuzzier. He felt like he was disassociating.

“I don’t think this is doing anything for me,” he finally said, sitting up. “ I didn’t even feel myself going under.”

She tilted her head and smiled. “Do you...think we haven’t started yet? Take a look at what time it is.”

He glanced at his watch, seeing that it was almost time for their session to be over. This seemed completely implausible. Where had that time gone? Had he actually showed up an hour later than he was supposed to or…

It was hard to believe what had just happened. On one hand, she had seemingly been able to knock him out for nearly an hour. But did that mean that anything else changed?

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Confused, I guess.” What else was there to say?

“Hypnosis like this - this immersion - begins in your subconscious for now, but you won’t truly be aware of it. What more, it may not even begin to reveal itself until you get a good night’s sleep. So, I’d suggest you take it easy for the rest of the day. Go to bed early. Then see how you feel in the morning. We can meet next week to discuss whether or not you feel it’s done anything for you. It may require another session of hypnosis, but it may not.”

The last thing he wanted was to have to wait another week for another session of hypnosis that may or may not take if this one didn’t. He kept his fingers crossed the whole way home.

It was easy to follow Dr. Willis’s orders. He planted himself on the couch, ordered a pizza and watched a few movies that night. No matter how much he tried to focus on what he was watching, though, his mind would wander. What was tomorrow going to look like? What would it feel like? Would it feel like anything?

These thoughts persisted all night, up until when he was lying in bed, covered in blankets while he waited for sleep to take him. I just want to be comfortable wearing panties, he thought as his eyes slowly closed.

--

He yawned and stretched before rolling out of bed. He went to the bathroom first, as he usually did, taking his morning piss, brushing his teeth, putting some deodorant on, and slapping a comb haphazardly through his messy bed-hair.

He grabbed a clean t-shirt, some jeans and socks from the dresser, and without thinking much about it, he bypassed the dresser drawer where he kept his underwear - instead opting to go to the closet. There, he fished around in a box until he pulled out a pair of pink panties with a black plaid print on them - the same pair he had once been caught by Stephanie wearing.

He put the panties on, followed by the pants, t-shirt and socks. Then, he walked to the kitchen to make some breakfast.

It wasn’t until about halfway through the process of making himself some scrambled eggs and toast that his eyes widened and his mouth hung open.

Wait a minute. Did I...Did I just…

Right there, he pulled his jeans back down to his knees and he looked down at himself. There were the pink panties. Without even a second thought this morning, he had just grabbed some panties and put them on like they were nothing. It had been so effortless, so thoughtless. It was as if they were just what he normally wore.

Yet now, as the eggs cooked and the toast browned in the toaster, he was growing erect as he stared at the panties. Something felt different, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. Was he...more excited? Less excited? Well, he was very excited. Probably as excited as ever about wearing panties, so that wasn’t it.

He decided to just kick off his pants altogether, walking about in just his panties and t-shirt. He was fully stiff in them now, and there was this unmistakable glow that he felt throughout his body. It was satisfaction and arousal and safety and security - all at once.

It finally hit him: he wasn’t feeling any shame. Usually, he’d put the panties on and he’d have to fight through the embarrassment and doubt that he felt, hoping that he could compartmentalize those feelings long enough to get off in the soft feminine underpants. But that struggle just didn’t seem to be there this morning.

He had never felt so free. He laughed out loud and ran his hand over the smooth panties, feeling his firmness as it pulled the fabric taut around it. He moaned softly and smiled. Well, damn. He could do this all day.

His hand slowly slid up and down the front of the panties. Somewhere in the background he could hear the sizzle of the eggs still cooking, smelling like perhaps they were on the verge of overcooking. The toaster dinged and spat out some toast. But it all felt miles away as he stroked himself through the panties. His hand gripped the front of the garment a little tighter. His strokes got faster. His moaning got louder.

“Gonna...uh...going...to…”

He had to brace himself with the countertop or else he would have risked tumbling over on the kitchen floor. His other hand clutched at the panties as he finally came, shooting thick goo into the them. Some of it dripped down his shaft, trapped between his skin and the cloth. Some seeped through it, coating his hand.

He laughed again, shaking his head at how random and intense that was. As he straightened himself out again, he could see the toast had been done for a little bit and was likely cold now. The eggs, or what was left of them, were smoking in the pan. He rushed to the stove, turning the burner off with his wet hand.

Slowly, he began to compose himself again. He laughed again. Was that for real? Did that really happen?

He threw the pan in the sink, dousing it with water and causing it to bellow hissing steam into the kitchen. He picked up the toast and threw it away. He sat down with just a cup of coffee instead, replaying the last few minutes over and over in his head.

It hadn’t even occurred to him to change out of the sticky panties. In fact, after his coffee, he walked to the couch and layed down on it. Occasionally his hand would gently brush against the damp spot. He smiled, and let himself drift off to sleep again.

Once again, he dreamed about panties. Wearing them. Rolling around in a pile of them. Having them rain from the sky. And when he came to, and as his hand casually drifted over his still-moist panties, he chuckled lightly to himself. He wondered if he should send Dr. Willis a thank-you card.

Nature called, however. Hardly a surprise, given his liquid breakfast and recent climax. He slowly rolled off the couch and lurched to the bathroom; his hands still caressing his pantied ass as he walked - feeling the soft fabric shift with his muscles.

What happened next, though, would be hard to explain. It was hard enough for him to wrap his head around in that moment, let alone reflect on later. He stood before the toilet, ready to pull down his panties to urinate - something that should have been simple enough. Beyond simple. An everyday sequence (save for the panties) that didn’t even require thought. Yet, in that moment, he just...couldn’t do it.

It wasn’t clear what the hold up was. Surely he had the physical ability to simply pull down the panties. Yet...he seemingly wasn’t able to. His body didn’t allow for it.

Couldn’t do it? Or...didn’t want to? He was confused; baffled, if he was being honest. He scratched his head, standing in front of the toilet with panties on, wondering what he was supposed to do.

Hypnosis? It was one thing to have his mind tricked into accepting the panties, but it was something else altogether to suddenly lack the ability to take them off. And while he wasn’t completely sure that's what was happening - it's certainly what all signs were pointing to.

The desperation in his bladder grew while he scrambled back to the couch to grab his cell phone. He quickly found Dr. Willis’s number, calling it.

“Hello. You have reached Dr. Leslie Willis. I’m not available to take your call, but if you leave a message with your name, phone number, and a brief description of the purpose of your call, I’d be happy to follow up with you at my earliest convenience. If this is a true emergency, please end this call and dial 911. Otherwise, leave your message at the beep.”

Beep.

“Dr. Willis? I-it’s me...Matthew Donovan. And, uh...look, I know we had that appointment yesterday with the...uh, hypnosis and all? I’m wearing the panties now. But, like, I can’t take them off? B-but...they’re not stuck. Does that make sense? I can’t take them off. Like...I can’t bring myself to take them off. I-if you could just give me a call, I’d really appreciate your help with this. 555-3292. Thanks.”

He sighed, ending the call. Who knows how long it would take for Dr. Willis to call him back. And what was he supposed to do in the meantime? He tried one more time, while still standing in the middle of the living room, to claw off the panties - but to no avail.

After pacing back and forth for a bit, he scrambled back to the bathroom where he planted himself on the toilet - still wearing the panties. The pressure had grown so strong that he felt like he was out of options. For now - until Dr. Willis got back to him - he was just going to have to...piss himself.

It was surprisingly easy, especially while sitting on the toilet. His poor subconscious mind didn’t know any better. Sitting on the toilet? Okay, let’s do this. The warm urine flowed from him, soaking every bit of fabric in its path, and once the bottom of the panties were plenty saturated, the excess dribbled down into the toilet. He felt like he should be humiliated. There he was - pissing the same panties that he had previously ejaculated into. But that shame wasn’t there.

Damn, he thought. Do I...like this?

He finished, flushed and stepped away from the toilet, catching sight of the soaked panties between his legs in the mirror. He half-heartedly attempted to peel them down his legs one more time. Nothing. He sighed.

He was pacing again. He wondered what he was going to do about this. Hopefully Dr. Willis would call him back soon. Maybe she could meet with him and undo whatever she did. Then, he could go and…

Another sigh. He was supposed to meet Stephanie for dinner this afternoon. It was tempting to reschedule - but that could also backfire. He was still trying to win back her favor following the disaster that was her catching him in her panties. Even if he feigned illness, she’d only insist on checking in on him - and she wasn’t the type to take ‘no’ for an answer.

Barring any further accidents - and assuming that without Dr. Willis’s help, he’d be helpless to remove them later too - he needed to do something about his soaked panties.

While sitting on the edge of the bathtub, he fanned his crotch with a hairdryer, slowly drying them. Early in this process, he swore that he could smell the panties - a naughty mix of today’s accidents - as the dryer wafted the scent to his face. Eventually, he got used to it, and it faded from his mind; unaware that he was only baking this new scent into the panties.

As the day progressed, he found himself at odds with his current situation - but only when he thought about it. It was hard, sometimes, separating what may have been his own feelings and what may have been suggestions from his therapy. Maybe there was no separation at all. He felt little shame for his predicament - in fact, he often found himself enjoying it - but sometimes the absurdity of it all would hit him, and he wasn’t sure how to feel. He was stuck in panties that he was helpless to remove on his own.

He called Dr. Willis again, leaving another message.

A text from Stephanie: Is 5:00 good for you?

Not especially. But...there probably wasn’t a better time either. Of course, he texted back, adding a smiling emoji in for good measure.

With every advancement of the little hand on his watch, it seemed less and less likely that he was going to be saved by a call back from Dr. Willis before he had to go and meet Stephanie.

Worse, his bladder was aching for release again. It was inevitable, and it would be foolish to think that he could just hold it again until after seeing Stephanie. The worst case scenario there - pissing his pants, and panties, while in her presence - seemed pretty dire.

Once again, he sat on the toilet while pissing himself through the panties. Same as before, he saturated the cloth between his legs as most of it spilled through it and into the water below. It should have been humiliating and pathetic - and maybe it was on some level.

So then why, after the last of his piss had dribbled out of him, was he growing erect in the wet panties?

“Oh come on,” he said aloud, frustrated at his body’s betrayal of societal norms. Yet any initial frustration over what was turning him on quickly melted away as he found himself, once again, clutching the front of his wet panties and frantically rubbing his concealed cock. He carried on like this until, again, he shot another sticky burst into the panties.

A minute or four passed, with him just sitting on the toilet in a daze. As he slowly came back to reality, he chuckled nervously and ran a hand through his hair. That wasn’t helpful at all.

Another desperate attempt at taking the panties off. No good. Can’t do it. Okay then. Plan B. Again.

Out came the hair dryer. As the hot air heated his sticky damp crotch, he again wondered if his panties were beginning to smell. He wasn’t even sure anymore.

He managed to keep the panties dry for the rest of the afternoon, almost proud of himself for such a feat. Still no call from Dr. Willis. He would have to get ready to see Stephanie, panties and all.

--

Opening the door to Stephanie’s apartment revealed a bounty of pleasant smells. Herbs, sauteed vegetables and garlic.

“I thought we were going out for dinner,” he said.

“It’s been a while since we had a meal in together,” she said with a shrug, a happy smile on her face. It was nice to see her smiling again. “Stuffed chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans.”

They were his favorite things. He winced a little, fearing that this was supposed to be a romantic meal. The secret in his pants would make that...difficult. He wished he had known this was her plan - he definitely would have faked sickness then.

“Can I help with anything?”

“You just have a seat. Everything is almost ready. How about I pour you a glass of wine?”

He wanted to decline. Drinking, in general, seemed like a bad idea while he was stuck in clothing he couldn’t get out of. Wine seemed like an even worse idea.

“Th-thanks,” he said. “That’d be nice.” He damned his willingness to be polite.

She poured him a glass of wine, which he nervously kept sipping from as she put the finishing touches on dinner. By the time the food was on the table and ready to eat, his glass was empty. She filled his glass for him again, clueless as to the panic he was feeling in his mind in that moment.

Dinner was fantastic, though. Regardless of whatever was going on in his head - or in his pants - it felt undeniably special that she made such a good meal just for the two of them to share. For a few minutes, his recent troubles faded from mind as they talked about things like work and films they wanted to see. It was just a nice normal meal.

“I bought a pie for dessert,” she said. “But I’m certainly in no rush to eat that. Are you?”

He shook his head. He was pretty full.

They sat next to each other on the couch, and she put a movie on - just something kind of mindless. They had been doing better recently, but she seemed to still be keeping a little bit of distance before tonight. Tonight? She was practically sitting in his lap.

He was no fool. The dinner at her place? The cuddling? The wine? Stephanie was feeling a certain way tonight. He had no clue what to do about that.

Her hand was on his thigh, squeezing his leg gently. He really wanted to like that. No, scratch that, he did like it. But to show that he liked it was inviting more trouble down the road.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” she said, a soft whisper in his ear. His hair stood on end.

“O-of course,” he said, smiling. He placed his hand on hers in his lap. She smiled back, unaware that his hand was hoping to stop - or at least slow - her advances. Yet this was a losing battle. She saw his efforts as flirting, and it only seemed to provoke her more. Her hand crawled up his leg, taking his hand with it.

At this point there was little he could do without looking completely obvious that he wanted to stop her flirtatious pawing. He sighed, releasing his grip a little.

Her hand found his crotch, and she gently squeezed his manhood through his pants. Stained panties aside, nothing was going to stop her gestures from being arousing. He could immediately feel himself growing in his panties. Damn, he thought.

She got a little closer to his face. “I missed you,” she whispered in his ear.

“I-I missed you too…”

“It sure feels like you did,” she said, her voice breaking into a giggle as her fingers cupped his erection.

He wished he could’ve said something productive. Something about the condition he was currently in or maybe even something about not feeling well. Something - anything - that would prevent what felt like a slow-motion trainwreck. But instead, all he could offer was a soft moan. “Uhnnph…” A guttural admittance of pleasure.

“Maybe I shouldn’t distract you from the movie,” she teased.

Yes, that’s a pretty good idea, actually, he thought. What movie was playing anyways?

Her other hand took his and led it to her breasts. No...don’t do that. Those generously sized soft mounds on her chest - he was weak against them. His hand shifted slightly to get a better feel, and his fingers tenderly squeezed it, calling a moan from her mouth now.

Abort. Abort!

He leaned into her, his lips touching hers. They were kissing. Making out. Their arms were wrapped around each other. Yet just as quickly as they had pulled each other into a tight bundle, her arms were pushing him back. With a sly smile, she squeezed between his legs again - eliciting another moan from his mouth. No, you idiot. Stop her.

She was unbuttoning his pants now. The zipper was pulled down. Her hands were pulling open his pants. He braced himself for the moment he hoped would never come, his eyes closed tightly.

“What...is this?” she asked. It was as sincere as it was confused in tone. Genuine uncertainty.

“I...I can explain…”

“Is this some sort of...joke?”

He could feel the blood draining from his face.

“You actually came here, to my house, while wearing my panties? Again?”

He opened his mouth to say something, still tasting her on his lips, and finding that he didn’t know what to say.

“What even is...I mean…” she shook her head and huffed in frustration, sliding away from him on the couch. “They look...disgusting. Are they stained? You...you literally smell like piss.”

And, of course, that’s when his mouth decided to work. He spat out: “Well, yeah! I had to piss myself in them today! Twice!”

That seemed like an incredibly poor argument.

“You...WHAT?”

“I mean…”

“What the hell is wrong with you, Matthew. I thought you said you were seeing a therapist. Why did you show up at my own home with...pissed-in panties?”

“You don’t understand...I...I was hypnotized! And I’ve had to piss myself in these all day because I can’t take them off!”

“What?” She shook her head in disbelief and said it again. “What the hell did you just say?”

“I…”

“Look, just take off my panties. Do whatever you want in your own time, but not at the expense of my clothing or when I’m trying to spend time with you.”

He felt something in his mind...it was like a “click.” Something felt different. He stood up, gripping his pants and the panties and shoved them down. Just like that, he was finally able to pull the panties off. For whatever reason, he was finally able to take them off; now, of all times. He was so relieved he laughed out loud.

Of course, he imagined the situation had to look quite different to Stephanie. Just after catching him in her panties, which he then admitted to having pissed in, he suddenly stood up and pulled his pants and the panties down, letting his semi-hard cock dangle before between them.

“I...I think you should go,” she said. She was probably right.

He pulled his pants back up and nodded slowly. There wasn’t much else to say. He grabbed his jacket and left.

It was only when he got home, and collapsed on the couch in a frustrated heap, that his phone rang. Dr. Willis. Fucking finally.

“Matthew, is now a good time?”

“It’s…” he sighed, wishing this call came three hours ago, “...as good as any, I guess.”

“So, if I’m understanding your messages correctly, you put some panties on, but you can’t remove them?”

“Yes...that’s about the gist of it.” There was more to the story than that, but she didn’t need to know those details.

“It’s hard to predict how your subconscious wants to adapt to fix the problem after hypnosis. It must be looking for a trigger of some sort. A trigger that hasn’t been discovered yet.”

“Stephanie…” I said. “She was yelling at me about the panties tonight. And...it was only then that I was able to take them off.”

“Interesting. I imagine that it’s her acceptance you want the most,” Dr. Willis said. “What, specifically, did she say?”

He didn’t want to get into the circumstances that lead to her yelling at him. Still, he tried to remember exactly what she said. “Well...she told me to take them off and…”

“I think that’s exactly what we’re looking for. Your subconscious mind has accepted you wearing the panties. Now it needs hers, and that’s the trigger you need to remove them.”

“That’s not especially...convenient.”

“Give me a call in the morning. I’ll do my best to make some time for you and we can work on changing some of the hypnotic prompts for your subconscious.”

Not that it mattered, he thought. The damage was already done. He had probably scarred poor Stephanie for life.

Following the doctor’s call, he paced back and forth for a bit. He had to do something. He needed Stephanie to know the truth. No matter how bonkers the truth was.

He didn’t expect her to answer when he called. Why would she? She’d see his name on her screen and she’d probably just roll her eyes and walk away from the phone.

Yet: “Hello?”

“Stephanie. Hi.”

“What is it, Matthew?”

“I...think there’s a lot you need to know.”

“About how you keep stealing my panties and wearing them? About all the dirty disgusting things you do in them?”

“Yeah. I guess that’s a good place to start. You see…”

He took a deep breath and he told her everything. He told her about his love of wearing women’s underwear. He was upfront about having stolen her panties, and the collection he had accumulated otherwise, because he wanted to have them to wear. He told her about his personal battle over whether or not he should be allowed to express this aspect of himself and if it was actually disgusting. He told her of the deep shame he felt when he was caught by her. He told her about Dr. Willis and her “hypnotic immersion.” He told her about the strange day he had as a result of that hypnosis.

For a few moments after he finished, she remained silent. He waited for her to speak, wondering what she’d say. He had even begun to wonder if she’d hang the phone up on him when, finally:

“I wish I knew before,” she said at last. “I mean...I guess I understand why you didn’t want to talk about it. But I would’ve supported you.”

“You...believe me?”

“Of all the things that you could lie about - I don’t think that’s one you’d choose.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. She didn’t sound completely happy...but maybe a little relieved. If nothing else, she had an explanation for much of this. “Why don’t I come over tomorrow. We can talk some more.

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “I’d like that.”

--

He slowly opened his eyes, the real world slowly coming into focus after another night’s sleep. Off to the bathroom: brushed his teeth, put some deodorant on, combed his hair. He thought about taking a shower. Maybe later. Finally, he took a step towards the toilet and lifted the seat.

Oh right… He was still wearing panties. The same panties that he wore all day yesterday. The same panties he pissed himself in. Among other things.

He tugged at the panties, curious to see if they would be able to slide down his legs. They didn’t, or couldn’t, budge.

In a repeat of the day before, he sat on the toilet, pissing through the panties. Unlike the day before, he wasn’t left feeling as aroused as he had then. Sure, there was a little bit of a flutter in his gut, but he was feeling a little too preoccupied otherwise. He considered grabbing the hair dryer again, but decided to kill two birds with one stone, and hopped in the shower instead, clad in his panties. He washed himself and the panties as he wore them. He wasn’t completely sure this was the way to do it - but it seemed to get the job done.

Minutes later, he gave his damp bottom a half-assed wave-over with a hair dryer, ultimately deciding to let them air dry while he picked up his place a little for Stephanie’s arrival. By the time he was done, the panties - while still a little moist - seemed dry enough to slide some pants over.

“You’re still wearing the panties now?” Stephanie asked as she walked through the door a short time later.

“I couldn’t take them off if I wanted to.”

“Show me,” she said, hands on her hips. She was there, at his house, when she didn’t have to be - so it’d be disingenuous to say she didn’t care about him. But there was a feeling of frustration that lingered in her voice.

He nodded, pulling down his pants to show her that he was still wearing the panties. He hoped they at least looked a little more clean than the last time she saw them. He tugged at them. Pulled on them. At first she didn’t believe him, it seemed to be an act. There wasn’t so much of a struggle when he tried as much as it looked like he was just giving up at the last second. But she could see it in his face. Desperation.

“Take off your panties,” she said, recalling what he said on the phone the night before.

He pulled on them again, this time sliding them down his legs with no effort at all. He sighed in relief. There were practically tears in his eyes.

“So you’ve just been pissing yourself since yesterday because you couldn’t take the panties off?”

“Yes....”

“What if you had to...you know…”

“I...imagine I would’ve done that in the panties too,” he shrugged. He was happy it hadn’t come up.

“Did you hate it?” she asked.

He wanted to say no. He didn’t want to look like a complete freak. But...he had already told her everything else. Why not be honest about this too?

“No,” he said, his head hanging a little. “I...didn’t hate it.”

“I see.” She was pacing a little now. “So you’re stuck wearing panties now, until I ask you to remove them?”

He nodded.

“And...you’re not at all upset about how you have to piss yourself while you’re wearing them.”

He nodded again.

“You said your doctor was willing to help you reverse the hypnosis? Or...fix it, or whatever she does.”

“Yes.”

“But do you want that?”

He sighed. That was a difficult question to answer. “I mean...I sort of like it. But...I don’t think it’s very sustainable for everyday life.”

“I have something,” she said. “I don’t know if you’ll like it. I don’t know if I’ll like it. But it might be an option.”

His head tilted with curiosity. She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a large white object. She held it out in front of her, showing it to him. She rotated it from side to side, giving him a good view of it.

He shrugged. He had no context for what the object was.

She laughed and started unfolding it. As she did so, he began piecing it together.

“A diaper?” he finally said.

“Adult incontinence brief,” she said with a smirk. “But who are they trying to kid? It’s a diaper. I don’t know, it was just a thought. If you wanted to just sit around and piss yourself, these are kind of made for that, right?”

“I guess. But...you really think I’d like diapers? It’s the panties that got me into this mess and…”

“I’m not going to pretend that I understand everything,” she said. “But I’m willing to play along. Because I like you and because I think you should get the chance to do...whatever the hell it is you want to do. But if you’re going to walk around pissing yourself...or worse...maybe you ought to wear something more protective.”

“But I don’t have a diaper fetish. I have a panty fetish.”

“So put the diaper on over your panties,” she said with a shrug.

“I...I’m not sure that this is my thing.”

“Alright, let me explain this again. See those panties wrapped around your ankles? Those are my panties. And you’re lucky that I came over to see you today and that I didn’t just run for the hills yesterday when you showed me you were wearing my panties while they smelled like a day’s worth of piss. And I went out and bought these diapers for you this morning, and I’m going to have to insist that you wear these while you’re in my presence. Understood?”

He could’ve argued. He could’ve protested. But what would that have gotten him? She’d spin on her heels and walk out that door so fast, and he’d be alone - stuck in panties.

He nodded.

“Go lie down on your bed,” she said. “Take off your clothes.”

He stepped out of his pants and panties as he walked to the bedroom, his heart racing. By the time he reached his bed, his shirt was off and discarded. He laid down on his back before her.

“You know how to do this?” he asked, pointing at the diaper.

“No,” she said. “But I’ll figure it out.”

She unfurled the diaper, rotating it about in her hand until she figured out what she needed to do with it. She tucked it under his bottom before folding it over his shriveled penis. Finally, she straightened it out and taped the sides to the front of the diaper, sealing him into it. As she stepped back to admire her work, he put his legs down, already feeling the thick crinkling mass between his legs.

“Not bad for the first time,” she said. “What do you think?”

“I...well…” He had hoped that this wouldn’t be the case. He had hoped that he’d absolutely hate this. He hoped this would only motivate him to call Dr. Willis right away and make another appointment with her. But instead...he felt his cock twitching inside the bulky garment. Just like the panties, he imagined there was a time when he would’ve been crippled by the shame and humiliation of wearing a diaper. He had no idea whether or not it was because of the same “hypnotic immersion” or not, but...he liked this. Maybe as much as the panties? Maybe it was striking the same chords for him?

She could immediately see the spark in his eye.

“You like it, don’t you?”

“I...uhm…”

“Why don’t you put your panties on over them?”

His mouth hung open a little as he sat up in the bed, the squishy padding crinkling under his ass.

“Where is your panty stash? I know you have one. I’ll pick out a cute pair for you.”

His head slowly turned to face his closet. She nodded and walked to it, opening the door and immediately finding his box of panties.

“There are...a lot of my panties in here.”

He said nothing.

“These,” she said, plucking out a pair of baby blue panties with white and green polka dots on them. “Put them on.”

She tossed them to him, and he caught them, immediately putting them on without hesitation. He couldn’t even remember where he had acquired these panties from, but they ran a little smaller than the ones he had been stuck in previously. With the added bulk of the diaper, these just barely fit.

He slid off the bed, and as he gave the panties a final straightening he suddenly realized that he, once again, couldn’t take the panties off if he wanted to.

“I can’t take the panties off,” he said. “So...I can’t take the diaper off either. Until...you tell me that I can.”

She must’ve been conscious of that on some level, but she smiled softly as she took a moment to really process that.

“So you’re telling me that until I say you can take your panties off, you’re trapped in a diaper?”

He nodded.

“That’s a lot of power,” she said. “I mean, I could leave you in that diaper all day if I wanted to. And then what? You’d have to use your diaper, wouldn’t you?”

“Y-yes.”

“This is...good. Unexpectedly good, to be honest. I didn’t think I’d find any personal pleasure in your weird little world. But I was wrong.”

He felt himself growing inside the diaper. Damn, he thought, why do I have to like this so much?

“I’ll leave it up to you,” she said. “If you give me control of your body - if you want me to take it - I’ll take it. But if you don’t want that, and you want to call your doctor and see if she can help undo whatever it is she did to you with her hypnosis, I won’t stand in your way.”

“I...I want…” he sighed and weighed all the options. Was this practical? Did this make sense? “...I want to be in diapers and panties. Under your control.”

She stepped closer to him. “Are you sure? You want to wear diapers, with no way of taking them off until I allow you to?”

He swallowed nervously and nodded. She took another step forward.

“You’re sure that you’re willing to be my little...panty-clad baby?”

The word “baby” hit him especially hard. He slowly nodded.

“Are you a baby?”

He started to nod, but stopped and then started to shake his head. “I...don’t know…”

“You are wearing diapers, are you not?”

“Y-yes…”

“And so?”

“I...I’m a baby,” he said.

“And those panties?”

He looked down, seeing the small panties pulled tightly over the bulky diaper. There was only one thing he could say: “I...I’m a baby...girl.”

For someone who had been so distraught over his stained panties the night before, he was blindsided by her sudden insistence on keeping him in panties and diapers now. Yet, it didn’t take much reflecting to recall how she had always been a little more controlling in the bedroom. Maybe she was a lot more accepting of strange kinks when it was on her terms.

She was close now. Very close. Her hand was on the front of his diaper, under the panties, slowly stroking the lump that had grown stiff within them. She whispered: “Are you going to be a little diaper-wearing girl now?”

He nodded. “Y-yes…”

“And what are you going to do when you have to go potty?”

He moaned softly as her hand caressed his bulge; a little faster now than she had been before. These words she was using, like ‘potty’ and ‘baby,’ seemed so...alien. But they were absolutely having their intended effect on him. “I guess...I don’t really have much of a choice.”

“Not so long as you’re wearing your panties, nope. And I might just leave you in them for quite a while, too. So you should probably get used to filling them up.”

He thought, and sort-of hoped, that she’d walk away now. Her pace on his diaper was increasing, and it was already pushing him towards the brink. He wanted this - he wanted that blessed release. But he didn’t want her to see him do it like this - in this state.

“I...I…I’m going to…”

“Go on,” she cooed. “Let it all out. You’re in your diapers now, and you won’t be making your pretty little panties all sticky now.”

That pushed him over the edge. With a final grunt and groan, he spurted into the diaper; her hand still softly stroking him as she felt him squirm and wiggle within the padding.

“All done?” she finally said.

He nodded.

“Good.” She stepped back, smiling. She looked pretty smug. “That was fun.”

He could already feel it...an aching in his bladder. It wouldn’t be long now before he ended up soaking his diaper. What would he say? Would he even have to say anything? Would she just be able to tell by looking at him? He wondered when she’d release him from the panties. He wondered if she’d be the one to put him into a new diaper. He wondered what she’d do if he had to do more than just piss himself.

But for now, he just smiled too. It had been the wildest few days of his life, and the most amazing part was that he had absolutely no regrets.

--

He laughed at her question. He thought he would stumble over his words, but he found they came surprisingly easy: “Diapers. I’m wearing diapers under my panties.”

“Diapers?” Dr. Willis said, jotting down a note in her pad. “I didn’t realize that you had an interest in diapers in addition to panties.”

“I guess I didn’t know either,” he said. “It was kind of a...making lemonade out of lemons type of situation.”

“It’s been two weeks since the hypnosis,” she said. “You sounded pretty upset on the phone the day after. I was expecting you to set up that emergency appointment. But you never did. I sort of assumed that you ended up being fine with the effects of the hypnosis?”

“I made them work,” he said, patting his padded crotch.

“Hypnotic immersion is an unpredictable process,” she said. “The suggestions to your subconscious could fade over time. Not that you’d even know, necessarily. By the time they did, you could have a genuine desire for that behavior on your own. Basically...my door is always open to you. If you want to try hypnosis again, or if you feel that we need to reevaluate the suggestions we gave your psyche, I’m willing to help you with that.”

He smiled and nodded, but meanwhile he was releasing his bladder. A warm stream of urine flooded the diaper and bloated the padding between his legs. It was getting easier and easier to just let go when he had to. There was rarely a point in holding it - Stephanie was always clear that she didn’t want to remove his panties unless there was a good reason for doing so.

Dr. Willis shot him a quizzical look. Maybe she observed something in his face or his posture that gave him away. Still, she only nodded a little, making another note.

“I’m good,” he said, having finally finished wetting himself. “Right now? I don’t think I’d want to change a thing.”

“Okay,” she said. She looked like she wanted to say more. Maybe something like, Are you sure about that? You’re just going to keep on wearing diapers? She let it go. “Well, my door is always open to you. I wish you the best, and I hope that whatever it is you’re doing brings you happiness.”

He walked out of her office where Stephanie waited for him in the lobby. She smiled, clutching his hand as they walked out the door and down the street together.

“I know that look, mister,” she said. “Did someone make a potty in their panties?”

“Y-yes,” he said.

“I thought so. Well, little girl, we’ll have to get you home so we can change you, hmm?”

“I...uhm...will probably use it more before we get home.”

She giggled and shook her head. “We’ll drive with the windows down. Let’s go.”

Somewhere between the time he got in the car and when he finally pushed a messy load into his diaper, he wondered if the hypnosis had actually done anything at all. It probably did...he still wasn’t able to take off the panties. But sometimes, in the back of his head, he thought he knew better: he just didn’t want to take them off.