Kompera

Hypnotherapy III

Added 2023-09-29 17:16:06 +0000 UTC

Note: This is a story-prompt for Heathen.

Ever since that last session, Jake’s breasts felt sore and tingly. He just remembered waking up on the chaise lounge, breathless and yearning, his nipples almost painfully hard.

Whatever Geller was doing obviously wasn’t working. Jake would not be pursuing any additional treatment from the practitioner.

In the meantime, he just tried to get focused, because he had been feeling rather scattered the past couple of days. He still found himself waking up in the mornings with his hands on his chest, squeezing and massaging, and indulgently teasing his nipples. Despite his horror of these actions, he was surprised by how difficult it was to stop. In fact, sometimes his fingers kept doing it, moments longer than they should have.

Jake would take a cool shower, trying to wash away the heat and the…unwanted compulsions. Sometimes his hands would stray while he was washing himself, but he always caught himself. Still, his fingers twitched to return.

He was dozing a lot, or sometimes drifting into daydreams, which wasn’t like him. He blamed his idleness. He often felt hot and a little bit dizzy. His body, his chest, seemed to be pulsing with heat.

Jake came out of his latest daydream to find himself standing by the fridge again, a milk carton against his lips. Shocked, he immediately pulled the carton away, spitting out the milk in his mouth. “Jesus,” he breathed, stumbling back. He dropped the whole carton into the sink, allowing it to drain.

He was having a lot of…daydreams…or remembrances…of doing this very thing. Getting up and going to the kitchen. Always drinking milk straight from the carton. Jake dragged his hand over his face. I’m losing it, he concluded. It wasn’t that shocking. It couldn’t be healthy to be holed up like this, isolated in his apartment for weeks on end with no interaction with other people.

He went to his bathroom mirror, which he had admittedly been avoiding. He encountered a pair of full C-cups protruding in his shirt. “Fuck,” Jake hissed. He had tits like a woman. Legitimate breasts. Some might even consider them large.

Bigger than Katie’s, he thought with a flinch. Jake turned to his side, tugging down his shirt. He had bigger breasts than his ex-girlfriend’s. It was fucking humiliating.

It didn’t even look like gynecomastia anymore. It just looked bizarre and womanly. The mounds seemed like they should have been attached to a cute girl, round and perky as they were. They shouldn’t have been attached to Jake.

He tore his gaze away from the mirror and went to his bedroom, where he pulled on the biggest sweatshirt he could find. “Hey, what’s up?” he said after calling his friend Mike on speakerphone. The isolation was making him crazy. Jake needed contact.

“Dude, I thought you died or something,” Mike laughed, then immediately invited him over.

Thirty minutes later, Jake was seated in Mike’s apartment with a couple other guys, hunching as he nursed a beer. His clear discomfort did nothing to deter the others. He had all their attention.

“Dude, what happened to you?” said Patrick.

Jake’s heart pounded.

“You shrunk!” said Mike.

Jake felt himself relax, just a little. They hadn’t noticed his chest.

“Yeah, I got a little out of shape,” Jake managed with a pained smile.

His friends wouldn’t back off. They kept mocking and teasing him. Jake finished off his beer and grabbed another one from the six-pack on the table.

“Dude, you’re a string bean,” Mike went on as the others cackled, no one paying attention to the football game. “You’re the size of my arm.”

God, Jake’s chest felt warm. All that milk had done a number on him. He folded his arms against his chest, and the pulsing tension that only seem to be exacerbating. “Can I use your bathroom?” Jake blurted. Mike laughed and pointed him in the right direction. Jake floundered towards the door and staggered inside, then gripped the sink.

Things were going well, Jake reminded himself. He had gotten out of the house, at least. Yet his heart was back to racing, his mind reeling uncomfortably. He appraised himself, wondering if the curve under his sweatshirt didn’t look bigger, suddenly.

Jake put his hands on his torso, dipping them under his hoodie despite himself. Then he found himself touching them again, even consciously. It felt good, somehow comforting. He still couldn’t believe how they could be so hot and so full. Jake groaned as he kneaded them, as though urging and stimulating. This would just make things worse. God, they felt so fat, overflowing his hands. They felt bigger than they had that morning.

Suddenly Jake was at a bar. He couldn’t even remember leaving Mike’s place. But he was several drinks in, judging by the empty glasses lined up in front of him. At least the alcohol helped him relax a little. The anxiety had ebbed, but the dizziness persisted.

It was dark. That was good. As Jake stood, he stared at the way his sweatshirt stretched against two plump hills as it hadn’t before. Now it just looked obvious.

He pushed his way through swaying bodies and found a restroom, where he pulled off his sweatshirt and took inventory of himself in the mirror. “Fuck,” Jake breathed. They really were growing. He stared at his straining tank top and the deep line of cleavage that was entirely unfamiliar. His hands cupped the mounds, and his eyes fluttered, as he imagined another person rubbing and squeezing, nipping and sucking. God, it felt good, fingers trailing over his tingling flesh and aching nipples. His eyes fluttered again. He was on the dance floor, rocking and drifting. Pressing close to another’s body. Feeling the mounds on his chest gently bobbing…

Jake suddenly found himself in his kitchen, chugging milk as streams of it trickled down his chin and neck, then between his cleavage. He gasped, and dropped the gallon-sized milk container. The plastic bounced against the floor, mostly empty.

Jake blinked around the room. He winced as his head ached, his body feeling heavy and lethargic in an unmistakable hangover. He looked down at himself, to find that he was wearing just a pair of tight briefs and his tank top from the night before. But now the tank top was squishing and squeezing, pinching into flesh, and tighter than it had ever been on him. “Fuck,” Jake breathed as his hands cupped a pair of the biggest breasts he had ever seen. They were unquestionably huge now. These had to be Fs or something.

“Uhhh…” Jake groaned as the mounds shivered, then his tank top started tearing right down the middle.

“Hey.”

Jake startled at the sight of some guy he didn’t recognize standing shirtless in Jake’s bedroom doorway. Jake stared at him.

“Last night was fun,” said the stranger, seeming amused by Jake’s stunned expression. The guy pulled his shirt on. “Well…see you around.” Then he left the apartment.

“Oh,” Jake whimpered. He stumbled back to lean heavily against the counter, breasts bouncing. His tank top tore more.

Jake decided to apply for some online jobs, but it was proving difficult.

He was suffering a chronic, throbbing pressure. There was so much heat, he couldn’t focus. He was constantly fidgeting, trying to breathe and resist the urge to just grab them. He was aware of every sensation. His nipples rubbing against the cotton of his shirts. His mounds pulsing; sometimes shivering oddly. “God,” Jake breathed, gripping his desk as he felt himself getting hard. They had gotten so big and so terribly arousing.

On Tuesday morning, Jake found himself seated at another session with Dr. Geller. Again, he was not sure why he had returned.

The sweatshirt he was wearing was not hiding anything. The F-cups on his chest sat round and high, strangely perky for their size.

Geller seemed as pleased as ever. She murmured something, and Jake found himself pulling his zipper down in response, exposing sweaty cleavage. He shrugged off the rest of the sweatshirt, feeling breathless and aching to touch his chest even then. He stared down at the way his nipples bulged out in his T-shirt, so prominent and swollen. He absently wiped some sweat off his temple.

Geller murmured something else, offering him the tray with the pill supplements on them.

And for some reason, Jake reached out, grabbed the pills, and gulped them down.