After several years of courses, failures, and almost endless studying, I had become successful enough at hypnosis that I could open my own clinic. I had a brass sign on the small building that I shared with a regular therapist and a dentist, and the sign simply said "Katz Therapy." Of course, anyone could get therapy at a regular therapist, but I specialized in sexual therapy. Couples of all ages would come in to see me concerning their sexual issues, and my job would be to find the root of their issues and bring it to light so that the couples could progress in the bedroom.
In my office was no desk. I find desks to be intimidating for patients. Instead I put three padded chairs in a circle, and a sofa for those who felt more comfortable lying down. Lamps were set strategically throughout the room, with a dimmer switch on the wall to adjust them as necessary.
I installed three video recorders on tripods, one near the sofa, and one next to each patient's chair. I didn't always use them; I left the decision to record up to the patient(s), since many of them felt less comfortable with them running. I also had an audio recorder, and this played through all sessions for me to review.
As you can tell, comfort was a big issue. If the patient(s) were not as comfortable as possible, they would not open up, and hypnosis would be far more difficult. And if I couldn't hypnotize them, then I would not get very far into the source of their problems.
The weeks went by, and the appointment books filled up quickly. You'd be surprised how many issues can come up in the bedroom. Less than half of them stem from insecurities, ranging from penis size, weight, and appearances in general. Surprisingly many issues come from being molested, raped, or abused as children, and those are the most difficult to deal with. The next biggest issues are physical problems, infertility, erectile dysfunction, etc.
About two weeks ago, a couple came in for their four o'clock session, their second. The man was about 5'10, with dark hair, brown eyes, medium build, physically fit, "from playing football," he had said. His name was Tad. With him was a stunningly gorgeous woman named Sadey. Sadey had long, naturally blonde hair that flowed to her waist, piercing, jade hued eyes, a curvacious body, round breasts, a flat stomach, small waist, wide hips, a slightly large but well rounded ass, long, fit legs, and beautiful, pouty lips. Sadey didn't use makeup, except for a little eye-liner to accentuate her eyes.
I welcomed them in, and bade them sit. They picked the sofa, although I would've preferred that they take the chairs. I had dimmed the lights a little to soften the atmosphere, and ocean waves broke vaguely in the background. The issue, I had found from my first session with them, was not Tad, but Sadey. For such a stunning woman, she possessed an almost prudish disposition in the bedroom, but she could not understand why.
I don't hypnotize during the first session. In fact, what I spend part of the time doing is explaining my techniques so that they know what normally goes on in a session. The rest of the time, I listen to their problems and decide my approach from there.
For Sadey, I felt that I would need to put her under deeply, a bit deeper than I normally would, because whatever lay at the source of her lack of sexuality seemed to be completely hidden from her conscious memory.
I explained this to them both, and also told Tad that I would put him into a light hypnotic state so that I could take care of any problems that he might have hidden. He was slightly anxious, but sorely wanted for Sadey to be better, so he agreed without any problems.
I would put Sadey under first, so I asked that Tad wait outside in case there were problems that might affect him, or maybe things that he shouldn't know unless she told him personally. Tad left the room, and I asked Sadey if she would prefer sitting or lying down, and she preferred the latter, so I had her lie down, her head under a throw pillow.
"Okay, now, Sadey, if at any time, you feel anxious or afraid, I want you to remember that Tad is just outside in the waiting room. And," I switched the video recorder on, as they had agreed to it, and began, "What I would like you to do is listen to the sound of my voice, and the sound of the ocean. Doesn't the ocean sound so peaceful, the rolling of the waves washing your fears and anxieties and apprehensions away a little at a time. So peaceful and calm, so very calm. Close your eyes, and picture a seashore in your mind. You are standing at the edge, just past the surf, under a gray, yet calm sky. It's morning, and the sun hasn't come up yet, and you can see the water as it laps against the sand, darkening the sand before it retreats back into the ocean, gentle, lapping water, Can you see the ocean, Sadey?"
Sadey's voice was slightly slurred as she answered, "Yes, I see it. It's so peaceful."
I continued, "There are seagulls soaring overhead, playing in the surf. They are calling out to eachother as they swoop, dive, and circle overhead. They seem to be so peaceful, don't you think, Sadey?"
Again, she sleepily agreed.
"You are starting to feel that peacefulness from the ocean and the seagulls, like a warm, cozy blanket that covers your shoulders and body, and you're beginning to feel a great peace and tranquility from the top of your head, over your face, neck, chest, and down your hips, and your legs, all the way down to your toes. Can you feel it?"
She nodded, smiling dreamily, "So peaceful."
"You are feeling yourself drift into this peacefulness, this tranquil cocoon, and nothing can harm you in your cocoon. Nothing can harm you, and nothing will make you sad or take your peacefulness away. You are drifting through a door, a door that is your wakefulness, and into sleep, a deep sleep where you can rest in your cocoon of peace. The sounds of the ocean are fading, and the only sound you will hear and respond to is my voice. Do you understand?"
"I understand."
"Good. Tell me your full name."
She told me her full name, still speaking in a sleepy voice, slightly slurred.
"In order to better hear you, you can speak clearly to me. Is this understood?"
She affirmed that it was.
"Good, now what is your age, Sadey?"
"My age is 23," she answered, more clearly now.
"Tell me about your experiences in the bedroom with Tad, please."
Her brow furrowed the slightest bit, which I noted, and she spoke, "I cannot please him very well. He is dissapointed in me."
I wrote a couple of sentences in a small notebook, and then asked, "Why do you feel you cannot please him well?"
"When I am going down on him," Sadey explained from her state, "I can't take him as far in my mouth as he would like. Everytime I try, I get nauseous. I can't enjoy it when he goes down on me, and when he has sex with me, I don't orgasm. He is disappointed that I can't enjoy it, and that I don't move around much."
"Please tell me, how does he feel when he is inside you?"
" He's very big, and I know it should feel good, but I feel like I'm going to suffocate when he puts it in me. I feel like I can't breathe."
I wrote again for a moment, and asked, "Do you have any idea that you have been keeping from either Tad or myself that you would feel this way?"
"No," her brow furrowed a little more, "I have no idea why I feel like that."
Now it was time to take her back until I found the root of her problem.
"Okay, now, the worries that you are feeling right now, I want you to let go of them, like balloons, just let go and let them drift away."
I watched, slightly amused, as her right hand opened, and, though her eyes remained closed, her head tilted up as if to watch them go. "Good," I smiled, "Now, what we will do is take a little trip. Open your eyes, but you will remain in this state, okay, now."
Her jade eyes opened.
"I want you to look at me, I am only feet away from your cocoon. Can you see me?"
"I see you right there," she acknowledged my presence.
"Wonderful, now, there is a clock in my hands, a sleek new clock with a glowing, white face. Can you see it?"
She told me that she could indeed see it, though in reality I held no clock.
"This clock is special, you see, If I move the hands backwards, time itself moves backward into your past. With the time, you, too move backward. I am going to start moving backward by a week at a time, and I want you to tell me what you see. Do you understand?"
"I understand."
I took her week by week, and she experienced it, telling me what she was seeing. But this was taking too much time, so I made it months.
As she got younger in her mind, the years rolled back further and further until she suddenly cried out in fear.
"Tell me how old you are right now, Sadey."
"I'm fourteen in two months," her voice sounded younger, the voice of a child.
"And what do you see, Sadey?"
"I'm staying with my mom and stepdad," she said in her thirteen-year-old voice, "My dad is away in Europe for a few years, and I couldn't come with him. I am upstairs in my room, reading one of my C.S. Lewis books, and my stepdad just walked into my room, startling me."
I had an idea what was about to happen, but I let her continue.
"He is asking me what I'm doing reading when I have chores to do. I tell him that I did the chores that my mother told me to do, but he says that I forgot a few of them. I ask him where my mother is, because she can tell him I finished my chores, but he says that she's out playing cards with some of her girlfriends. I start to say something, and then I see his face. It's flushed, and he looks excited about something."
"What happens next?" I urge her on.
