Pleasuring The Hypnotist

"All right. Let's hear from someone new today. How about you?"

The counselor's gaze settled on Brent.

Oh, fuck.

"Nah, I'm good," he offered. "I, uh, prefer listening. For now."

Frank, the counselor, made a face, miming concern. "Are you sure? Sharing is an integral part of the recovery process." He paused a beat. "It's up to you, of course."

Brent cleared his throat. "Nah, nah. Let's hear from someone else. Sorry," he added lamely.

"Hm," Frank said. Judging Brent and barely concealing it.

Sanctimonious prick.

"Very well. Trey, how about you? Do you want to share with us?"

"Happy to, Frank." Trey sat up straight in his chair, clearly thrilled at becoming the center of attention for the next couple of minutes. "Hi, my name is Trey, and I'm an addict."

A chorus of men's voices piped up. "Hi, Trey."

Brent shouldn't be here, in this stuffy community center basement with these losers. He wasn't an addict; he didn't have a

problem

, as far as he was concerned.

Trey was yapping along happily. "... and with my new promotion at work, we'll finally be able to move out of that neighborhood, and let me tell you, Vanessa is

thrilled

..." He caught the counselor's glance and quickly changed tack. "But what

I'm

thrilled about is this: as of yesterday, I've been porn-free for exactly one hundred days."

A polite round of applause. Trey smiled around the room. "Sorry for rambling on a bit about work! But, you know, it's funny." He got a sudden faraway look in his eyes. "I haven't really thought about porn anymore in weeks, even. I don't need to tell you this, those of you who have been here as long as I have, that it used to be a daily thing. Several times a day, really."

A couple of men stirred uncomfortably in their seats.

"God," Trey went on, oblivious. "Sometimes my dick was chafed so bad, like really looking like some raw piece of meat, and I still couldn't help myself, I'd -"

The counselor cleared his throat loudly. "That's

wonderful

, Trey. Thank you for sharing. As you know, we like to focus on the process of

healing

here, not on, uh, past behaviour."

Trey seemed to snap out of it, blinking fast. "Of course. Sorry, I don't know what came over me."

"That's all right. Why don't you tell us a bit more about how you came to this point."

"I realised I was helpless in the face of my addiction," Trey said, sounding like he had this memorised. "So I gave myself over to a higher power."

Brent tuned out.

So he liked porn. What was the big deal? He just happened to be horny a lot, more often than his wife was in the mood for; instead of bothering her with it, he grabbed some lube, settled down with some porn, and got to work. Big deal.

And if the order were reversed sometimes, and he put on the porn first and only then got horny, so what? What did it matter?

He was a grown man. He had needs. He was allowed to get off whenever he wanted to.

Well. Jessica - his wife - didn't agree.

He'd been stupid to let her find out. Should've been more careful. And of course, she'd made a big deal out of it. Said it was practically cheating. Brent had countered that maybe he should've just cheated, then.

Dumbass move.

And when she found out he'd been a daily porn enjoyer for years, since his teens, really, she had utterly lost her shit. Oh yeah, after that argument, Jessica had been very clear: either he'd get help with his 'addiction' on his own, or it was a one-way street to marriage counseling - and possibly divorce. The 'Pornaholics Anonymous' meetings seemed like the lesser of two evils, but sitting in a basement with these people one night a week was only marginally better than weekly sessions together with his wife and some flat-chested dyke who would tell him everything was his fault for being a part of the patriarchy, anyway.

But the people who came to these meetings! Losers and perverts and basement dwellers. The only guy here who seemed even remotely normal, besides Brent, was Trey, the one talking now about how this

higher power

saved him and made him pure and yadda-yadda. Still, Trey

looked

like just some regular Joe, and not someone who had 'sex offender' written all over his face.

There was another round of applause, startling Brent from his thoughts. When the applause had died down, Frank spoke up. "Let's end on that high note for today. I'll see you all next week. There's coffee and sandwiches in the back, for those who want any." He cleared his throat. "And, as always, financial donations are welcome."

***

Trey cornered Brent as he was eyeing the sandwiches, trying to determine whether they would give him food poisoning or not. He should've just left - but if he

had to

come here every week, he might as well get a sandwich and a cup of coffee out of it.

"Hi there! I've seen you around a couple times now." Trey grabbed Brent's hand and started pumping it up and down. "I'm Trey!"

"Yes, I know," Brent said, trying to get his hand back. "Brent."

"How's Pornaholics Anonymous working out for you, Brent?"

Brent glanced around, saw that Counselor Frank was out of earshot, and decided to be blunt. "It's not. I don't think it's for me."

Trey guffawed. "Yeah. I could tell, man." His voice turned conspirational. "You're more like me."

"What does

that

mean?"

"Please. All these guys are addicted to porn because they'd shit their pants if they had to talk to an actual, real-life female. Don't act like you haven't noticed," Trey said. "We're different, you and I. That's all I meant."

Brent was taken aback. It was uncanny, the way Trey gave voice to what Brent had just been thinking. And it made him wonder... "So why do you keep coming to these meetings?"

An impish smile appeared on Trey's face. "Honestly? I get a kick out of telling them how good I'm doing." The smile faded, and for a brief moment, Trey got that faraway look again. Then it was gone. "And, I'm gonna be real with you: I'm here to look for guys like you."

"What do you mean?" Brent asked, alarmed. "Listen, man, I'm not gay."

"No, no, nothing like that. I'm not gay either," Trey said quickly. "I have a girlfriend. Well, fiancee, actually." He paused, seemed to collect his thoughts. "I just meant, I can help you. Guys like you, like us. These other guys..." He waved his hand. "They're beyond help, to be honest."

Brent braced himself. "Look, you seem like a nice enough dude, for sure, but I really don't need to hear more about some higher power..."

Trey laughed. "Oh, no, man. That's Frank's whole deal, I just talk it up in the meetings to keep him off my back. I'm talking about something that actually

works

. I'm living proof. And it's super easy." He looked at Brent expectantly.

"All right. I'll bite. What's your big secret?"

"Hypnosis."

It was Brent's turn to laugh.

"No, I'm serious," Trey said, a peeved look on his face. "It really works."

"I'm sure it worked for you," Brent granted. "But it's not for me. I don't believe in that kind of stuff."

"You don't have to believe in it for it to

work

. It'll change your life, you'll see."

"I really don't think -"

"Everything I said in there was true," Trey went on, eyes suddenly alight with zeal. "Everything! The promotion, the big move. And the sex with Vanessa is

so much better

, now that I don't watch porn every day anymore."

Brent scoffed. "What, all that from hypnosis?"

"All that and more! I've quit smoking. I've quit coffee. Going to the gym used to be a chore, and now I'm there five days a week. I'm in the best god-damned shape of my life. Here." Trey dug something out of his pocket, pressed it into Brent's hand. "Take it. Scan the code when you're ready to live your best life."

Brent looked at the card. It was black and shiny, with a white square at its center containing a QR code. Nothing else was printed on it. "Thanks," Brent said, sliding the card into his pocket. "I'll check it out."

Like hell he would.

Trey was grinning like a loon. He appeared to be experiencing real physical pleasure from the simple fact Brent had accepted the card. More than just pleasure; the man looked like he was about to cream his pants.

Fucking weirdo.

Brent needed to get out of here. No amount of free sandwiches was worth

this

, whatever this was. "Right," he said, already starting to back away. "Look, I gotta run. Been nice talking to ya."

"All right, man, of course," Trey said, still grinning, wide eyes fixed on Brent. "Be sure to scan that code."

"I will," Brent lied.

***

"What's this?" Jessica asked.

Brent looked up from his phone. His wife had been doing laundry; she stood in the door opening, holding a pair of his pants - and the card Trey had given him.

"You been going through my pockets?" Brent aimed for a jokey tone. Jessica's frown told him he hadn't succeeded.

"You always leave crap in there. It clogs up the machine," she said. "Don't deflect. What

is

this?"

"It's just a card, babe."

"I can

see

it's a

card

, Brent." Jessica already sounded exasperated. "What's it

for

? Where'd you get it? What does this code do?"

"Babe! Chill! Some guy at the PA meeting gave it to me, said it," - Brent mimicked air quotes - "

changed his life

." He quickly recounted how Trey had cornered him, and what the man had said about his experience with hypnosis. He expected his wife to share his amusement.

"Hypnosis." Jessica did not sound amused at all. "Right." She suddenly flung Brent's pants at him. "Do you think I'm an

idiot

, Brent?"

"What the hell, babe!"

"Hypnosis! You're telling me if I scan this code, it's not gonna open some weird pervert website? God, Brent, you couldn't even come up with a better excuse than fucking

hypnosis?

"

"You're being paranoid," Brent said, struggling to keep his tone even. "I've done what you wanted. I go to the meetings, I don't watch porn anymore. I'm not lying to you!"

"Prove it!" Jessica waved the card in his face. "Scan it right now and show me."

Brent huffed. "Fine." He didn't have anything to hide - though he resented being forced. Still, it seemed wise to pick his battles, and he didn't think he would win this particular one.

The website that popped up when Brent scanned the code looked normal enough - except for its address, a seemingly random string of numbers and letters.

Jessica snatched the phone from his hand and peered at its screen. "Dr Luca Montresor, hypnotherapist," she read out loud. "Specialisations include help with insomnia, addiction, and relationship issues."

"See?"

"All right, all right. You don't have to sound so smug about it." Her mouth was working silently before setting in a grim line. "I think you should do it."

Brent threw up his hands. "Babe! You can't be serious."

"Why not? This guy at the meeting said it helped, right?"

"He was full of it! Just a minute ago you were saying you don't believe in hypnosis!"

"I didn't believe

you

," Jessica said pointedly. "I have nothing against hypnosis, now that I know the site is legit."

Brent was shaking his head, exasperated. Jessica handed him his phone. "Look," she said. "Just make an appointment. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work. But at least you'll have tried."

"I just don't see-"

"Do it for me, baby. Do it for

us

. This addiction of yours, this filthy habit... I'm still struggling to wrap my head around it. My friends say I should divorce you, you know."

"Who said that? Was it Kayleigh?"

"Never mind who said it, Brent! I don't want to divorce you, but I don't want to live with a husband who's addicted to porn either!" She composed herself. "It's humiliating."

"I'm sorry, babe." And he really was - he hadn't meant to hurt his wife.

But he also

still

didn't see what the big deal was.

Maybe that was part of the problem.

Maybe Jessica had a point, after all.

Brent sighed. "Fine. Fine, I'll make an appointment."

"You will?"

"Yes. I'll do it now." He swiped his phone's screen, revealing a simple form on the website.

Jessica gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. "Thanks, baby." She looked at her watch. "Oh! I've got some errands to run."

"You want me to come with you?" Even as he said it, Brent knew his wife would interpret it as an attempt to weasel out from making the appointment.

If she did, she didn't comment on it. "No, you just stay here and contact Dr Luca." She took one of his hands, looked into his eyes. "I trust you, baby."

I trust you not to watch porn while I'm gone

, she didn't need to say.

***

Alone, Brent turned his attention to the appointment form. It was short and sweet, only asking standard stuff; his full name and birthdate. His phone number and e-mail address. He quickly filled in everything and submitted the form.

The screen seemed to freeze; the form blurred, and a full-screen spinner appeared. It didn't look like a standard spinner, though; it was styled to look like a hypnosis wheel, a black spiral on a white background.

"Cute," Brent muttered. "I'm gonna barf."

And yet... the spinner was strangely alluring. Brent couldn't tear his eyes away from it; black edges appeared in his vision, so it was like he saw the spinner through a tunnel.

The spinner disappeared.

Brent blinked. That had been...

weird

. He shook his head, trying to shake the sense of lightheadedness that had suddenly come over him.

A new form had appeared on his phone's screen. This one asked who had referred him; Brent simply typed in 'Trey', since he didn't know the man's last name, and scanned the rest of the form.

These questions were more personal, asking for his occupation, his height, his weight, his penis size.

Wait, what?

He checked the field again, certain he'd misread. But no, that's what it said: penis size.

Brent hesitated. He wanted to close the website - this question seemed too weird, too intrusive - but found himself compelled to fill in the form, his fingers moving without his conscious mind instructing them to. When he got to the 'penis size' field, a message popped up.

Important,

it read.

Penis size should be the size (length AND circumference) when erect.

Brent filled out the field truthfully; seven inches for length, four point seven inches for girth. Before he could stop himself, or think about it too much, he pressed the big 'next' button. The hypnotic spinner popped up again.

It was the same sensation as before. Brent couldn't look away; the spinner commanded his full attention. He could look at it for hours. It calmed him - any worries about his 'addiction' and his marriage seemed far away, almost of no consequence.

When the spinner disappeared again, Brent felt like he was coming up from underwater. He blinked at the screen - and saw himself blinking back. The website had somehow activated his phone's camera. A prompt appeared on the screen.

Submit a face picture.

Brent took note of the vacant look in his eyes even as he pressed the button and took a picture. The spinner briefly appeared again, causing a pleasant buzz to reverberate through Brent's skull.

Another prompt:

Submit a full-body picture.

Brent quickly looked around for a place where he could prop up his phone. When he pressed the button this time, a countdown timer appeared, giving him five seconds to pose for the picture.

A flash. Another brief spinner, followed by another prompt.

Submit a nude full-body picture.

Brent didn't even hesitate. He stripped naked, all the while feeling like he was in some pleasant dream. Seeing his own naked body on the screen sent a tingle of excitement down his spine. And why shouldn't it? He looked damn fine. Years of working in construction had given him a muscular body - not gym-toned, but a dad bod that unmistakeably signaled true strength. He took a moment to admire himself, his eyes trailing down to his dick hanging heavily from his thick bush of coarse pubic hair.

It felt good to admire himself like this. He should do it more often.

He pressed the button and posed for the picture, unable to stop himself from flexing a little. This time, when the spinner popped up, Brent felt a flush of pleasure - almost as if he was being rewarded.

Submit a close-up picture of your erection.

Brent was surprised to find his dick was already swelling and rising, getting bigger with his every heartbeat. In no time at all, he was fully hard - and then some. His dick looked and felt like it would burst. The only times it had been in this state before had been at the end of hours-long, porn-fueled edging sessions.

He hadn't known his dick could get this hard this fast. And he still felt so good; he gave his cock and absentminded squeeze, which immediately caused his knees to buckle. He'd almost cum, even though he'd barely touched himself.

Brent picked up his phone. Barely thinking about what he was doing, he found an angle that he felt showed off his cock nicely, and took the picture.

The spinner reappeared, filling his vision until there was nothing else. Pleasure flooded his body - it felt like the best orgasm he'd ever had, but it just kept on going. Pretty soon, Brent was lost in the sensation.

"Brent? What are you doing there in the dark?"

He blinked. Tried to parse the question.

"Woah," he heard himself say. "Must've dozed off."

Yeah. That must be it. It sounded right. And he felt... good. Refreshed and well-rested.

Jessica turned on the lights, causing Brent to blink. A brief flash of panic -

he was naked!

Except... he wasn't. He wore the same clothes as when his wife had left. How long ago had that been? Must've been a while, for it to get dark in the meantime.

"Can you help me with this?" Jessica gestured at the shopping bags, loaded with fresh groceries. "And did you make the appointment?"

Brent got up from the couch, still a little confused. He tried to remember when he'd dozed off, and what had happened before he did.

Don't worry about it.

He felt

good

. Like a million bucks. He walked across the room and kissed his wife on the lips before picking up two of the bags. Jessica looked at him, bemused. "What's gotten into you?"

Brent grinned. "Just had a really good nap, I guess. Oh, here, let me get that for you." He whistled as he started unloading the groceries.

"You should nap more often, then. I could get used to this."

"You deserve it, babe," Brent said earnestly. "Ah, and, yes, I did make the appointment." He checked his phone, which now only showed a confirmation message with a date and an address. For the briefest instant, he furrowed his brow. Why couldn't he remember?

That doesn't matter.

It didn't. He held the phone up to Jessica.

"That's tomorrow," she said. "Don't you have to go to work?"

"Took a day off." Had he? He didn't remember calling Bryce, but he must have. He turned his attention back to the groceries. "This is more important. Working on my issues, being a good husband to you... that's what's important. I'm sorry it took me until now to see it." Where was all this coming from?

Jessica didn't say anything. Brent was about to turn to see, when her arms wrapped around him. She pressed her body against his back in a tight embrace. "I'm so happy to hear you say that, honey."

A pleasant shiver ran down Brent's spine. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this good. He'd been too quick to judge Trey. "This is going to be good for us," he murmured, more to himself than to his wife. "It might really change my life."