Mmm, my experience with mr. Brad Pitt

beachmuscles · 05-11-2007, 05:35 PM

Dr. Steve Sherman looked at his appointment book. He couldn't believe it, his next appointment was Brad Pitt! Dr. Sherman was a licensed hypno-therapist who specialized in helping people curb bad habits. Brad had expressed the desire to quit smoking. Dr. Sherman had previously helped people in the entertainment industry, but no one of Brad Pitt's caliber had ever come to see him. Because of Brad's notoriety, Dr. Sherman agreed to schedule his appointment after his normal business hours.

At 6:30 p.m. there was a knock at the door. Steve opened it. There stood Brad Pitt, looking good enough to eat.

"Mr. Pitt, I'm Dr. Sherman," Steve said, extending his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too, Doctor. And thank you for seeing me this late," Brad replied, smiling. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue.

Brad came into the office, looking around him nervously. Steve noticed this and attempted to put the actor at ease. "I'll bet you're nervous about hypnosis," he said. Brad nodded. "Don't worry. It's quite simple and harmless. I'm sure you checked out my credentials and background before you came, so you know that I have an excellent reputation."

"Yeah, I checked you out. It's not that." Brad was blushing. "I'm just nervous around doctors. Sorry."

"Oh, nothing to be sorry about. Why don't you call me Steve? I mean, we're about the same age anyway, and if we're going to make any progress, it might work better on a more informal level. Okay?"

Brad smiled and looked noticeably calmer. "Sure, that'd be great, Doctor, I mean, Steve."

"Shall we start then?"

Brad nodded. "Oh, is it okay if I take my jacket off?"

"Sure, you can hang it right over there."

Brad stood up and removed his coat, walking to the other side of the office to hang is jacket. Steve watched his smooth, tight butt as he passed by the desk.

"Okay, let's begin," Steve said as Brad returned to the couch. "Now this may sound a little corny but I want you to watch the pendulum of the wall clock behind me as it swings back and forth. Concentrate on it while you listen to my voice." Steve flipped a switch on the underside of his desk and a miniature spotlight aimed at the pendulum turned on. The light flashed each time the pendulum swung through its path.

The switch under the desk also activated four video cameras that Steve had installed in his office. One was built into wall clock behind his desk, just under the swinging pendulum. Cameras were also mounted on either side of the couch, and a final camera was hidden in the ceiling directly above the couch, capturing all possible angles.

"Just look at the pendulum as it swings back and forth, Brad," Steve said, his voice soft and monotone. "Fix your eyes it and follow it's movements, but don't move your head. Follow it with your eyes."

Brad's eyes moved back and forth as Steve's voice droned on. "Keep watching the pendulum as it swings. Back and forth. Back and forth. Isn't it relaxing?"

Brad nodded his head.

"In fact," Steve continued, "as your eyes continue to move back and forth they might become tired. You may even feel like closing them, but I want you to try to keep them open, even though every swing of the pendulum makes you want to close them even more."

Brad was blinking slowly, struggling to keep his eyes open. They closed for a second or two and then slowly opened. They drooped again and then slid shut. He was under.

"Brad," Steve whispered.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to count slowly backwards from ten. The closer I get to zero the deeper you will fall asleep. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Brad whispered softly.

"Good. I want you to listen to everything that I say. You will do everything I ask you to do without any questions. It will feel second nature to obey me. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Brad mumbled. His voice was slurred. He sounded drunk.

"Good. How are you feeling right now?"

"Relaxed."

"Good," Steve said. He gave Brad a few commands to help him to begin the process of quitting smoking, implanting the subconscious thought that Brad would need follow up visits in order to quit for good. Then he started his regimen to strengthen Brad's response to the power of suggestion. After forty-five minutes of intense instruction Steve was ready for a test run.

"Brad, whenever I say the words 'smoke signal', you will immediately return to this state. Deeply relaxed and asleep, yet able to hear my voice and respond. You will also obey every word I say and will not offer any resistance to any suggestion I make. Do you understand, Brad?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Okay, in a few moments, I am going to count to five. When I reach five, you will wake up feeling very good and relaxed. Very freshed. Do you understand?"

Brad nodded. "Yes."

"Okay, Brad," Steve said, "here goes. One... two... three... four... five."

Brad opened his eyes and looked around. "Was I just hypnotized?"

"Yes, you were, for a few minutes, and now we're done. I just have a few insurance forms for you to sign before I forget and then we can continue."

"Great," Brad said, standing up. "Where shall I sign?"

"Right there," Steve pointed, "on the line that says smoke signal."

Brad's face went blank and his eyes glazed over. The pen dropped from his hand.

Brad was wearing well-fitting, faded Levi's and a short-sleeved button down shirt. Steve reached out and touched Brad's forearm. The hypnotized actor shivered slightly at the touch and drew in his breath. Steve ran his hand down Brad's arm. Then he unbuttoned the shirt and slid his hands up Brad's magnificent torso. His chest was shaved smooth, most likely for a new movie role. His muscular pecs were jutting out and his nipples were the size of quarters. Steve touched one.

"Uunnhh," Brad moaned, shivering again. Steve rolled the hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting another moan from Brad. This time much louder. His was pushing his chest out to the prying fingers and Steve wet his fingers, grasping the nipple again, beginning a slow twist and tug.

"Oh, uh," Brad continued, his head lolling back and forth. "Oh, that feels so good."

Steve leaned in and fastened his lips around Brad's right nipple, biting softly. Brad went wild, "uuugggghhhhh!" His body was quivering, but he stayed where he was.

Steve's hand moved down to the waist of Brad's jeans. His underwear was showing about an inch. The waistband read "Hanes." So, Brad Pitt was a briefs man. Steve smiled. Tighty whities were his favorite. He unbuttoned Brad's pants and worked the zipper down. The briefs were bulging. Steve pushed the jeans down past his knees and took a step back.

There was Brad Pitt, pants down, totally under his control. Steve was ecstatic. With one hand cupping and tickling Brad's substantial bulge, Steve poked his tongue into the actor's ear. Despite the order to remain still, Brad was twitching wildly.

Steve removed Brad's shirt and guided him over to the couch. He removed Brad's socks and shoes and finally his pants.

Reaching under the couch he produced two lengths of silk ropes. Binding the hypnotized stud's wrists, Steve tied the restraints off to two brass plant holders conveniently mounted over each side of the couch.

He knelt between Brad's legs and whispered to him. "Okay, Brad, you can try to move, but you will find that you are restrained and unable to stop my actions." He then ran his hands up and down Brad's inner thighs. Brad tried, but was unable, to close his legs.

Steve's fingers crept to Brad's crotch, still encased in his tight white briefs. The outline of his dick was visible against the thin cotton material of the briefs. Steve massaged more vigorously.

Thick ropes of cum shot from Brad's cock as his body convulsed madly. Steve grasped the shaft and jerked up and down, attempting to milk every drop. Brad was trying to hunch up to avoid the agony, unable to stop anything Steve was doing. His chest was covered in cum.

Finally Steve stopped. He sat back for several minutes while Brad's breathing returned to normal. He went into the attached bathroom and returned with a towel wet with warm water. He gently cleaned up the bound actor, wiping all traces of cum and sweat from his body. Then his pulled Brad's briefs back up. Taking a digital camera from his briefcase, he took several still shots of the hunky actor in his tight white briefs. He then undid the silk restraints and examined Brad's wrists. No marks. Good. There would be no signs of the bondage session.

"Brad, in a few minutes I'm going to count you out of this trance. You will have no memory of what has happened just now. You will only remember that you were signing the insurance forms. Your body will not feel any differently than it did when you came in today, and you will awake feeling extremely refreshed. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dr. Sherman, I understand."

"When you sign the form you will write down both your home phone number and your cellular phone number. When your phone rings and you hear my voice say "smoke signal", you will begin to have the urge to smoke. You will then call my office to make an appointment. You will find nothing unusual in doing this. It will seem completely natural for you to ask for a follow up session. Do you understand?"

Brad nodded his head, his blond hair falling over his eyes.

"Good. Now put your clothes back on come back to my desk." Steve smiled as Brad dressed, happy that the video cameras were still running. "One... two... three... four... five."

Brad opened his eyes and looked up. "I'm sorry, Steve, where did you want me to sign?"