From Saul@EmanEslaf.intl.Prsa.net Mon Feb 17 06:21:57 1997 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: TG: Hypnotized into Tabitha 1/2 From: "Saul O. Synjin" <Saul@EmanEslaf.intl.Prsa.net> Date: Mon, 17 Feb 1997 03:21:57 -0800 Tabitha (Part 1) The add said: understand women. I thought what the Hell, after my last girlfriend left me, I needed something like this. I answered it with a phone call. A pleasant feminine voice reaffirmed my confidence, reassured my fears, and set me up with an appointment. I went the next Thursday. I sat in the outer office for almost an hour, and when I finally got up to leave, having complained to the secretary (and in truth having the chance to stare at her for an hour was more than a privilege), I decided to fuck it all. That's when she slid back the glass partition and told me the doctor would see me. Doctor? I was seeing a doctor? It was the first I'd heard of it. The add hadn't said anything about it, nor had the door. I entered and she met me. A brunette with warm honey brown eyes. Her face was slim and her figure petite, but with two unmistakably big breasts bulging even through the professionalism of her suit, which ended in a skirt. She sat on the side of her desk after shaking my hand and motioning me to a chair. I must have stared at her long smooth legs for half an hour, because when she finally started with the treatment, I realized I hadn't listened to a thing she had said. "So, if you really want to understand them, just give the word, and I think we can help you." "Well, I do," I replied, and her smile made me so hard I almost couldn't bare to sit. She looked at me with a strange sort of look, one of satisfaction I think, and said, "Fine. If you'll just help me, I think we can help you." She gestured to the wall, where two pieces of paneling swung back and revealed a huge circle. There were spirals of red and white winding their way like the yellow brick road to the center. She sat in a chair beside me. "Now, first I think we should help you relax. Don't worry, It'll be over in a second." Only now did I notice the hypodermic sitting on the end table. She picked it up, uncapped it, gave it a hearty squirt, and I began to eye it and squirm uncontrollably. "Is that really necessary?" I asked nervously. "Look," she said frankly, "I've done a dozen of these things and I'll be honest. You are attracted to me." I looked away ashamed. She was right. I could think of nothing more than slithering my tongue up those legs and pushing my penis deep into her. I wanted to see her close her eyes and moan, but still for her to know that and admit it to me was embarrassing. "It's okay," she continued, and placed a hand on my leg. "But it does present a problem. As long as you think of me as a woman and not as a doctor, I can't help you. You need to relax, and a man like you seldom does that upon a first meeting with a woman to whom he is attracted, physician or not. All I want to do is give you a little something to relax." She leaned over before I could refuse and pushed up my sleeve. Within a second she squeezed my arm and a vein popped up as if by her command. "It'll be over," the needle stung, "before you know it." She pulled it out. "It's just a sedative, and a mild hypnotic. You won't actually feel anything but relaxed. I have to do the real work. Don't worry. We can stop whenever you wish." I stared down at my arm, and then back at her. "How long before I feel it actually working?" "It shouldn't take long. But if you are worried or want to look for some signs, you'll have trouble moving your eyes about. Meaning you'll suddenly begin to fixate on whatever catches your eye. In fact, why don't we go ahead and test it, and I'll show you the difference." I said okay, and felt a sudden compelling urge to breathe deeply. I did so and immediately lost my anxiety. The drug was already taking effect, and my entire body seemed to go limp. Everything seemed to become extremely casual. She raised a finger and held it up to the right of me, instructing me to follow it with my eyes carefully. I did so, and for a moment she kept it there, then slowly moved it across my gaze to the left. I watched it, following it without trouble. And after a few moments of studying my gaze carefully, she moved it back to the center. I again followed it without problem. "Fine," she said, "it's not working full strength yet. We'll wait a few moments and try again. In the meantime, why don't you tell me why it is you want to understand women badly." "Well," I said, pausing to let another deep breath take me-- they were getting deeper and harder to stop. "My girlfriend left me because I didn't understand her. I don't even understand what she meant by that. Look, I just want to know what women want. Bad enough to come to you for help. I didn't know you were a doctor. Hell I didn't even know--" I paused, my eyes blinking, staring at her nameplate but not reading it. It felt like early morning, as if I'd just woken up and had two dozing eyes. I shook my head, but it did no good; it was so heavy on my shoulders, and my body was like clay, a thoughtless, obedient lump. I was breathing terribly deep and staring mindlessly at her desk. Then I shook my head, blinked again, this time waking up, and tried to remember just what it was I'd been saying. She looked at me piercingly, and said with a low smooth voice, so soothing and soft in every way it could have put me to sleep even without the drug, "Why don't we try again, hmmm?" She raised a finger, but I was staring at her tie, and wondering what her breasts looked like. "Ahem!" she said, and I switched my attention to her finger. There it was to my right, and I obeyed her instructions to watch it. Then, it was gone. It was as if time had suddenly passed me by, because I woke up and saw her finger had moved to my left. I looked at it, being more careful to keep my attention. But after a second I drifted and the next thing I knew it was centered directly before me. I hadn't seen it move once. "Whoa," I sighed, my eyelids growing irresistibly heavy, and looked her in the eye out of amazement. She smiled, lifted my lid to analyze my condition and caressed my cheek warmly. She came ever so close to me, and gave me a small kiss. It was terribly erotic and lasted forever. Everything moved in slow motion. "Good, I think it's taking effect," she said, each word crisp, enunciated carefully and cleanly. She moved behind me, placed her hands on my cheeks, and gently directed my eyes to the great circle which I now noticed was spinning slowly, all the spirals leading to the center. I watched it turn for a second helplessly, and was quickly entranced with the patterns, leading inward, always inward, turning, turning, circling, and encircling me, making me feel off balanced. Then her low and quiet voice became soothing and teasing. It was so soft and enticing I could only listen. "Just relax and watch the center," she said, her fingers massaging little circles into my temples. "See how the red lines lead you in, in, always in, until you are at the center? The white lines lead in, too, in, always in, until you are the center. Listen to my voice, let it soooothe you. Let it take away all your fears, only my voice, my voice only, so soft and relaxing. You are relaxing completely, watching the circle spin around and around, leading you inward, inward, until you are at the very center, and relaxed. Completely, totally relaxed, leading inward, inward, softly relaxing you. My voice only, making your eyes tired, very heavy, very tired. You are completely relaxed and sleepy." My eyelids were so heavy, even my head began to droop but I still looked at the circle spinning, spinning, listening only to her voice, making me so sleepy. "Watching, listening, sleepy," she whispered close to my ear. Her lips touched them, and I could feel them move as she spoke, but her words were gently taking control. "You must sleep, you must close your eyes, even if only for a second. Only for a second, let your eyes close. You are at the very center, all the lines leading towards you, and you are so, so weary, so very, very weary, so tired you must sleep. Close your eyes, relax, let them fall, so heavy, your arms, legs, and head so heavy, as if a dozen lead weights are pulling on them, pulling them down. Watch the circle making you sooo tired, so sleepy. Even if only for a second, close your eyes, you must--" I closed my eyes, but only for a second. "--close your eyes. Good," and her voice began to trail off, "You will listen to me, and to me only, you will obey, and remember noth--" I awoke, and felt different. I sighed a nice warm sigh, stretching my arms above me, letting the covers slip away, and got to my feet. I felt lighter, shorter. Paying it no mind, not even remembering what had happened the night before or trying to, I went into the bathroom to urinate. Once at the toilet, I stood above it and reached my hand habitually for my penis, missing it on the first try, and the second. Sleepily opening one eye, I looked down and reached again, feeling my bladder begin to ache. Nothing. I opened both eyes. JESUS! IT WAS GONE! Wait a minute, wait a minute, I calmed myself, closing my eyes once more. Something was wrong. Let's just ease in to this. Your penis doesn't just disappear. It's still there, or you're still in bed. I looked again, this time with both eyes. It was gone. In it's place a nice patch of pubic hair hung close to my body, but the real me was gone. I was gone. Then I suddenly realized to look down there I had to bend over slightly to see over my--over my-- breasts. I turned to the mirror. There a beautiful blonde woman stood in a body I lusted for. Her breasts were perfect, with two round nipples straight and hard. I looked down, spying the same. Yes, I was excited, of course I was fucking excited. I felt for my penis once more, finding only hair, and further down a large opening where my fingers felt the familiar warmth and wetness of a vagina. A stab of pleasure went through me. How long I touched myself, stared at myself, told myself it wasn't happening I don't know. But the next thing I remembered I was hiding beneath the covers. Hiding from my own body, my new body. There was the sound of a doorbell. I didn't answer, but I heard the whoosh of a door sliding open. It was her voice, still as soft and luxurious, and I suddenly remembered her giving me the needle. I poked my head above the covers, having to push a wave of blond hair out of my eyes. It was an awkward thing to do. She was accompanied by two orderlies. "I know what a shock this is, believe me. We are here to help." "You Bitch! What have you done to me? Where's my body?" "Please, just let us help you. We can help you adjust." "I don't want to adjust. I want my body back." The two orderlies grabbed me, and in my own body I could have taken at least one of them, but these arms were weak, and even when I grunted helplessly, it was a female's complaint that came out, not a man's. I was no longer a man. We went down many corridors, but finally arrived at a door and I was swept in and placed in a chair, quickly strapped in, my arms, legs, and head suddenly immobile. He thanked the woman who had brought me, dismissed the orderlies, and sat down before me. "I'm here to help you adjust. Here is what you can expect." I shivered in fear, unsure of what to do. "After this session and others, you'll feel comfortable for awhile, then the feelings of being a man will creep back in, but slowly you will adjust and eventually you will have forgotten what it was like to be a man, and soon you will want only to be a woman." "Never," I said with gritted teeth. He smiled and pulled up my nightshirt, which I only now realized covered no underwear. My legs were stretched apart by the chair and I felt something uncomfortable enter me. It pushed inside of me, and finally stopped. Then he fitted my head with a metal band. "We will stimulate the vagina and the hypothalamus with pleasurable sensations under a deep drug enforced hypnosis and let you have wet dreams of men, and of make-up, and shaving your legs, and everything being a woman entitles. Then we will give you a nasty shock, and send painful vibrations into your brain at the same time we instruct you to remember being a man, and lusting after women." "You're not putting me under again, no matter what you do." "The drug stays in your system for a minimum of six weeks, which if you are not adjusted by then, you won't adjust. Within the week, you'll have snapped and will be a woman from then on. As long as the drug is in your system, the post suggestive word she placed should activate you into an abnormally deep sleep, a very suggestive unconsciousness. Shall we try?" "Fuck you." "Splabth." My eyes closed, I relaxed, and my mind opened. "Good, very good. Your name is Tabitha. You are a woman, you like being a woman. Repeat that please." "My name is Tabitha. I am a woman, I like being a woman." "Good. You are attracted to men, and men only. You want men to make love to you. Repeat that please." "I am attracted to men, and men only. I want them to make love to me." "You are a woman. Repeat that please." "I am a woman." "Again, please." "I am a woman." "Again," he commanded. "I am a woman." "Again!" he said, more demanding. I responded the same. "I am a woman!" "With conviction, AGAIN!" "I am a woman!" He had me repeat it again and again, until finally I was half believing it and saying, "I am a woman. Yes, I am a woman!" It finally stopped. "Tabitha," he called. I had somehow, though temporarily I'm sure, been convinced that that was my name. "Yes," I said softly, like a child. "I want you to think of a woman. Think of her breasts, think of her lips, think of her thighs, and her stomach." My mind was suddenly filled with the vision of a woman's anatomy. "Think of her brushing against you, whispering in your ear. Think of her underneath you, and you inside of her." I did so, and would have grown erect had I still owned a penis. But there was a soft humming sound that was increasing, and I began to feel my head and vagina contract. I began to grow sick. "Picture yourself having sex with her, kissing her, slipping your tongue deep inside her mouth. Hear her sighing, pleading with you to make love to her, to go faster and deeper. Feel her against you, sweaty and moving under your thrusts." The sickness grew, until I suddenly found myself in a seizure. I was contracted in agony, and screaming. Electricity was pouring into my head and making me shriek. "Picture it!" I held out for as long as I could and finally yelled, "NO!" The pain stopped, the sickness left, the electric jolts ceased. "Picture a man," he said enticingly. I did so. Another humming began, but this one vibrated me in a different way. "Feel him biting your neck, his weight on top of you, his hands squeezing your nipples, his tongue deep inside your mouth, playing with yours. Hear your sighs, you can't control them. Your legs about his waist, squeezing, and him moving deep inside you." The vibrating between my legs was bringing me to a feverous pitch. God! It felt good, and the vibrating in my brain reinforced it beyond reason. I was in perfect pleasure, unable to think but what he asked of me. "Feel him thrusting inside you, pulling out, thrusting, pulling out. Again, again, again, faster, faster, faster, again, making you scream with pleasure, making you hold him with abandon, making you say his name again and again, saying yes, say it with me, yes, yes, more, yes." "Yes," I said because if felt so good. It was rising in me, this pleasure, leading me somewhere. "More," I said because I couldn't bare it if it stopped, I needed all he had to give. "You need it so bad. YES! Now, you say, now! And he thrusts deep inside you and you feel him, and dig your nails into his back, your head on his shoulder, your legs wrapped tight around his waist, your behind lifting from the bed. NOW!" And By God I began to orgasm, and it continued, I pulsed and twitched inside with feelings I'd never had before, caught up helplessly in his homemade fantasy, sure I only wanted to feel more of the man inside me. It was at the climax that he played his hand, his final ploy, hanging close to my ear whispering these words. "Tabitha is your name. You are a woman. You only want to be a woman. Everything that is a woman you are, for now and forever. You love men. You are friends with women. You like women, but you make love with men. You listen when they talk, do what they say. You are easily controlled." The climax continued, another orgasm hitting me hard, and I was totally receptive to his every word. "Man is dominant, you are feminine. You like make-up. You like frilly dresses, and showing off your legs. You like men feeling you and looking at you. You want only to be pretty. Only to be woman. Only to be beautiful and feminine. You are helpless to resist." Finally, the waves of pleasure left me and I began to lose the shudders and became very weak. I breathed, feeling as if I was floating on a waterbed, warm, weak, floating in a nice aftermath of ecstasy. I was still deep under hypnosis, and he removed the headband and the Sensizer from between my legs by instructing me not to feel it. I didn't. Then he unstrapped me and brought me slowly out of the trance. I opened my eyes. I was exhausted, but as he watched me, I instantly and instinctively closed my legs, keeping the knees together in a typically feminine way. This time, when I stretched, I did it with my wrists out, and feeling my breasts push delightfully out, and finally stood. He offered a hand, said he hoped the next session would go well, and when I took his hand, I held it gently, with a slightly loose wrist. The orderlies escorted me back to my room, and I knew I needed a shower, not knowing the hypnotist had instructed me to need one. I turned it on, stripped and felt the hot water soothe away all the sweat. Then, suddenly, while washing, I found my legs were uncomfortably rough. There was stubble, and I knew I should shave, but something inside of me refused. I exited the shower, found my men's clothes, and tried them on. They didn't seem right, but I was damned if I was going to wear women clothes. I was damned if they were going to make me into a woman. I left the room without any problem and returned after only a few moments. Unable to help myself, whether by compulsions or just sheer comfort, I took my shirt off, went through the drawers of my chifforobe and found a brassiere. Slipping the straps over my shoulders, I stretched the cups around to my breasts and hooked the center together. I was grateful that that was where it fastened. I wasn't sure if I could handle one that secured in the back. With that done, I replaced the shirt and went to lunch. While eating, my legs stayed together. So there I was in a life boat in the body of a beautiful blonde girl. My shoulders were fragile and bare, my figure petite but pretty, and my legs smooth and slim. I had beautiful feet, and there was red polish still on their tips, and my hair flowed down my shoulders hanging around my neck, tussled but beautiful. My breasts were light and firm, the nipples still young enough to point straight instead of sagging, and my face was young, with thin pink lips, my nose sleekly pointing from there to two dimples on either side of my small mouth. And my eyes were blue and transparent. I searched for my penis and found it was gone, only finding a delightful sensation awaiting when my finger inserted itself between my legs. There my hand moved rhythmically having obviously done this before and I breathed in pleasure, my breasts heaving with each sigh. I moaned, and my voice was youthful and sensual, a thin tone, but not so much small as full and lively. I began to cry and realized at once that it felt good. My emotions were irrational and I felt every bit a woman, stronger than I expected but fragile in a way too by the way I sobbed. When I came, I felt such wonderful feelings, totally swept away in the orgasm, but missing a man's touch. A man putting his chest against mine, making me long for his kiss and his lips wet on my forehead, and biting my neck. His tongue touching mine, and his cock inserted within me, moving, pushing my legs wide until I had no choice but to wrap them around his waist and give in. To submit and let him have me in whatever way he wished, to let the movements of his waist and my hips answering his completely invade and control me. And soon when he was deep inside me, I felt the warmth of his semen and it felt so wonderful to look into his face and see the pleasure there, to see how he was at the same time completely dependent on me and committed to pleasure. I controlled him completely, and he said to me that he loved me, and lord help me I believed him; and wanted him to stay with me for the rest of my life, and be pregnant with his child. God help me I wanted to bear children for this man. I truly had no ability to obey at least for the moment. He said whatever he said and I nodded, kissed him deeply and was his forever. The next day, I looked in the mirror, pleased with what I saw, but missing my male body. I was no longer able to look at women with lust. Something in me had changed; they had done something to my mind; and worse made it so I wouldn't mind. I actually seemed happy that they had changed all of me, including my personality. I knew I didn't have much time (although if I had still been male three hours would've been boring), because my date was coming to pick me up and I had to get ready. To the bathroom I went and started to pour myself a bath. I didn't feel like a shower today; I wanted to pamper myself. (They had really done a good job on the mental side of me, changed me completely. I couldn't even remember what it was like to have a penis, to just jump in the shower, to walk like a giant, or sit with my legs spread apart. I even tried it, but it seemed wrong, awkward, completely unfeminine, and I just wanted to be a woman.) When the tub was filled, my bath drawn and foamy (I had put some moisturizing bath cubes in it), I disrobed and soaked for a while. Then, soaping up my legs and putting on some cream, I took a razor and shaved them. But I couldn't get it all, so I found a bottle of Nair, and tried again. This time they were so smooth and slick I could hardly believe it. They felt good this way. When I got out, drying myself, my skin felt very soft, and I bundled my hair up in a towel. I just folded it up in a cone like I had seen my girlfriend do a hundred times, like it was second nature. Then after I was sufficiently dried, I toweled my hair and combed it out, and put in a little mousse. I then blow dried it and after that was done I could only wait for it to settle so I could run a brush through it one last time. In the meantime, I sat on my bed, still in robe, and found some nail polish. It was a light pink, and I liked it so much I did my toes with it, too. I had to be careful not to smudge my fingernails as I painted my toes, and not to get it on the sheets, and I spent some time blowing on my nails before I went back into the bathroom to sit before the mirror. Some foundation went on first, rubbing it in with my fingers, then a little blush just on top of my cheekbones leading and darkening as I approached my ears. Not too bad, I thought, for having only been a woman a little over a day. Then I brushed my eyebrows, but they didn't seem to do right, and I realized I would have to pluck them. It was not something I wanted to do, but otherwise they wouldn't look right. It hurt. I didn't realize how much it hurt just to look good, but I kept wincing with the pain as I pulled hair out with a pair of tweezers. After it was done, I used some clear mascara to smooth them down. Then I applied a light gold to my eyelids, placing a light brown in the center leading inward, to make the bridge of my nose look thinner. I was already beginning to find things I didn't like, things I would never have noticed as a man. With a darker brown, I ran a line just above my lashes, then decided on a dark black mascara. I looked up and tried to make my bottom lashes look long. Once coated, the top lashes did look long and I curled them up. I gazed into the mirror and noticed how pretty it made my eyes. I liked them, and put another light coat on the bottom lashes to better show them off. Then, with a thin liner, a deep gold, I ran a line under my eye. The mixture of colors really brought out the blue in my eyes. After that was done. I ran a lip pencil around my lips, tracing the exact form I wanted to see, and applied lipstick, it was pink, like my nails. I tried a beige color first, making them gloss but it didn't match my nails. I was beginning to think women were hypersensitive to color, always wanting them to match. Anyway, the pink looked good, and I figured I'd have to find an outfit that--an outfit, Shit I hadn't even looked. In the closet, I found two things I liked. One was a black miniskirt which would show off my legs, and I could wear some dark hose with it, maybe some lacy stockings, and some pumps, but I didn't like the blouse that went with it, and I couldn't find anything better. The second was a one piece, a red dress that cut off right at my upper thighs, and I thought it might show off a little too much of my legs. How did women get away without showing their panties to everyone? I could still wear the dark hose, and use the gold jacket that hung on a hanger. It would be baggy on me, but it would look so good with the dress. I took off the robe, unable to believe I was going to wear a dress on my second day as a woman, especially as one as tight and as revealing as this one, and slipped the dress up my legs. It got tight around the waist, but with some squirming, and the dress was designed to be tight, I managed to get it up all the way. I quickly realized I either couldn't wear a bra with it, or I would have to find a strapless one, because the dress sat low on my shoulders, leaving most of them bare. I also wouldn't be able to bend down, or lean over unless I wanted to display my breasts to the world. I held it up with my hands, and looked into the mirror. Man, I was hot! If I was a man I would've fallen in love with myself at first sight. I slipped out of the dress, and found some hose. Slipping them on without putting holes in them with my long nails was a challenge, but I quickly soon learned how to do it. Inserting my thumbs inside, and using the flats of my fingers I eased them up, slipping them smoothly past my knee and up my thigh, feeling them slick against my legs, and then standing I worked them up my waist, feeling my legs so wonderfully smooth I got excited just feeling them, and they looked good too. My legs were shiny, and thin, and my panties would turn on any man. They rode high on my hips, and barely covered me at all, almost a g-string, but kind of like jockeys too. Once the hose was up, the doorbell rung. Jesus, he was early! I walked around for a second, not knowing what to do. I hadn't even looked for shoes yet. Running to the door, I opened it and saw an incredible man, with a tight sculptured jaw, and penetrating eyes. He scanned my body (I'd put the robe back on) and I melted when he gazed into my eyes and smiled. I smiled back, trying not to blush or to gush and told him I wasn't ready, and could he please wait. He said, no problem. I raced into the bathroom, lost the robe, struggled back into the dress, and searched for a pair of shoes. The black pumps were out, but there was a red pair just like them, and closed in the toe. I didn't want anyone seeing my toenails, if I could help it. I'd done a shitty job on them with the polish. With the heels on, I was helpless to walk except how they told me to. They made me walk with a twist, shifting my weight only just enough to keep balanced. It made me move sexily, and at once I thought I would give him a thrill. Walking back into the living room, I asked him if he could zip me up, having already done it partway. No since in giving him a glance at my ass, not yet anyway, then just as he was doing it (feeling his hands cold on my skin, I shivered slightly, he apologized with a deep voice that made me quiver inside and shiver all over again), I suddenly realized I hadn't put on a bra. Oh God! Would he notice? Of course he was going to notice. I would've if I was him. Oh well, he zipped me up without mentioning it, and when I turned around, he told me I looked great. I thanked him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, completely by instinct. I never would've done it had I thought about it, but it felt natural, and he seemed to like it. I got my jacket, put it on, picked up my purse, which I seemed to know the location of at all times, and looped it around my arm. I knew there were some cosmetics in it, and I could only hope they would do for the night. I put on two gold ear rings that dangled loosely and would lure people's gazes down to my neck. And there, I looped a small red and black heart on a tiny gold chain. Then, taking one last moment in the bathroom, I put a little dab of lip gloss in the center of my bottom lip. If that didn't turn him on nothing would. I wanted to turn him on, and it felt right. I checked my hair one last time, smoothed the tight dress down around my hips, and reentered. Back beside him, I said I was ready, still marveling at the way he was looking at me, and the way the pumps were making me walk. Then, he placed his hand on the small of my back and ushered me through the door. Less than four hours later, I was helplessly seduced by him. He had me however he wanted me. I was still very much under the influence of the conditioning they had put me through. Whenever a man spoke, I listened. I was submissive to his wants, following his lead everywhere. And when he kissed me, I wasn't the aggressor like I was afraid I might be, but the prey. They had mind controlled me into being what they thought a woman should be. I was now that woman. Pretty, clever, sexy, but completely dominated by a strong male. I couldn't break out of it, every time I tried I felt strangely uncomfortable. So awkward that I could only do something helplessly feminine, like cross my legs. But when he opened my legs, felt my smooth thighs, breathed on my neck and pushed himself deep inside me, I groaned, grunted, and panted like a helpless little girl. I cried 'yes' and 'more' and tried to give him what he wanted. That's how they had forced me to be, and even forced me to want to be that way. Oh, god, I was a woman, and this guy was completely dominating me, and I liked it.