Kompera

Hypnotherapy VI

Added 2023-12-31 21:55:24 +0000 UTC

Note: This is a story-prompt for Heathen.

Jake blinked several times. Eyes narrowing, he peered around the room.

“Great session,” Geller was saying. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

Jake straightened a little from his position slumped on the chaise lounge in Geller’s office. The hypnotist was seated in a chair opposite him, her legs crossed neatly. Jake wasn’t even certain how he had gotten there. “Friday?” he said groggily.

That also seemed off. When exactly had he picked up an extra weekly session? He wasn’t even supposed to be coming here anymore. Jake was certain he'd cancelled. At least he had tried to….

Jake's confusion turned into irritation. He was about to give Dr. Geller a piece of his mind, but suddenly he felt terribly fatigued…

His keys jingled as he unlocked his front door. He walked inside, his arms laden with…shopping bags? Several of them, gripped in his hands, some hanging around his elbows. There were so many bags, all full of…clothing? Women’s clothing. Jake lifted a garment: something tight and slinky. Horrified, he dropped The item and the bags to the floor around him. “What the fuck.”

Next, Jake pulled a wad of rumbled receipts out of his pocket. He smoothed out one, then gazed in horror at the three-figure sum. All these clothes — he must have spent thousands of dollars! On credit, he presumed, because he certainly didn’t have that much in his bank account. Jake couldn’t afford all this! So now he was taking on debt?

And why all the blackouts? Was it the supplements Geller kept giving him? Or was it Jake, himself, his mind splitting right down the middle as he clashed with — with whatever he was becoming. This feminine body. But he was still Jake, underneath it all. If, rather jumbled.

Jake finally took notice of the outfit he was wearing, presently: a severely low-cut tank top, his cleavage bulging generously over the neckline, paired with a very small, tight pair of shorts. The outfit fit him like a glove.

Disturbed, Jake quickly pulled the clothing off as he made his way to his bedroom where he retrieved some sweat pants, a T-shirt, and a pair of boxers.

But he only got as far as trying to pull the boxers up, the waistband unable to negotiate the ample hill of his round backside. Jake groaned and struggled, tugging at the boxers until they started to tear.

“Fuck,” he hissed again, his huge tits jiggling with his gasping breaths.

He returned to the living room and went through the shopping bags, hoping to find some undergarment that might accommodate his unique dimensions. The best he could come up with was a damn thong. With a grimace, Jake pulled it on, the thing fitting him mainly because it’s sheer lack of material. Jake wrinkled his nose and shifted awkwardly at the unpleasant sensation of string lodged in his butt.

There was a ringing sound. Jake distractedly grabbed his cell phone off the coffee table. “Hi?” he said, wincing when his voice squeaked. Frowning, he cleared his throat and tried again, but his voice still sounded higher than usual.

The responding voice caused his eyes to widen. It was about the job interview. There was a last-minute opening and they wanted to know if he could come in within the next hour. Jake opened his mouth to respond—

Jake was standing in a large office, clutching a familiar folder, with papers…his résumé? His eyes shifted to the L-shaped desk, and the clean-cut man seated behind it in an expensive-looking black suit.

The man was frowning at Jake. “I’m sorry, there must be a mix-up, Miss….?”

“Yes, I’m Miss Smith,” Jake blurted, then he blinked. “M-Mr. Smith, I mean,” he stammered, his face reddening at his error.

The man behind the desk just stared at him.

“Jake Smith,” Jake clarified, as he stepped farther into the room. “I’m here for the uh…the interview?” he guessed.

After another moment of staring, the guy behind the desk finally snapped out of his reverie. “Right,” he coughed, tearing his eyes away from Jake, but then glancing dubiously around the office, like he thought this was a prank or something. “Why don’t you have a seat, Miss — I mean — Sir?” he corrected himself questioningly.

Jake shuffled closer then lowered his plush ass into the chair directly opposite the desk.

Jake knew he looked much softer now, his eyelashes too-long, his lips strangely plump, and his face, smooth and soft. Even his hair seemed to have gotten longer, now brushing the back of his neck, close to reaching his shoulders. His body had become hyper-voluptuous, but he was still quite obviously a man, Jake thought.

“I’m Tom Peterson,” the man behind the desk introduced himself. He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, and was undeniably attractive.

Jake shook the guy's hand as his nipples stiffened uncontrollably, swelling huge and embarrassingly in the thin blouse he was squeezed into. Jake quickly withdrew his hand, doing his best to breathe evenly.

Tom’s jaw was hanging. After a moment he caught himself, again tearing his gaze away. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat.

Jake fidgeted.

“Well, to start, if you could just look over this paperwork,” said Tom, handing Jake some forms.

Jake tried to peruse the paperwork, but his massive tits kept getting in the way, and it was honestly hard to see anything. He feebly tried to shove his inflated melons down as he attempted to sign his name on a line that he could hardly make out.

Jake’s body was tingling. He felt himself getting more turned on the more that Tom gawked.

Jake finally finished with the first form. Tom reached out to take it, but somehow his hand accidentally grazed Jake’s left breast. Tom fumbled to apologize, but Jake felt his body heating, his clothes straining, his chest heaving…

The thong was around his ankles.

Jake blinked up at an unfamiliar ceiling, slowly registering that he was sprawled back on the desk, mostly naked.

He grimaced and clutched his stomach, which felt oddly bloated now.

“Fuck, that was hot,” someone muttered.

Jake managed to sit up, wincing as his swollen basketball-sized tits slapped together, then wobbled as he stared in horror up at Tom who was topless and buttoning his pants.

“Fuck,” Jake hissed. Why did this keep happening?

Tom smirked lecherously back at him. “Don’t worry sweetheart, you’ve got the job.”

But Jake was busily grabbing up his clothes, pulling them on as he hurried out of the office.