John stared at the well-built, handsome, young police officer sitting across from him. Judging by the way he was fidgeting in his chair, the officer wanted to be anywhere, but in front of him. Unfortunately, after numerous complaints of his arrogant attitude, use of derogatory terms with certain arrestees, and their rough treatments, counseling sessions was deemed mandatory. John had seen this type of overly aggressive, alpha police officer before. He took his time reading the notes in front of him, knowing that it was annoying for his newest patient. In truth, he had read the reports earlier. However, doing it again, while taking his time, was his way of subtly letting the officer know that he was the one in charge. He knew the young man had been particularly chosen by the person who did the psychological profile. They had done this before for quite a while, and that person knew who to steer to John for “treatment.”
Officer Casey. Age 29. College graduate. Captain of his college's baseball team who led them to two conference championships. Graduated from Police Academy with honors. Psychological profile reveals officer has a high opinion of himself. Has an exaggerated hyper masculine image which may indicate some inner conflict on that issue. Numerous complaints by suspects, who had submissive characteristics. Allegations this officer was particularly harsh with them while also employing derogatory verbal comments. Sent to Dr. John Zen for anger management treatment, and correction of attitude.
“Is this gonna take much longer?” Casey asked with more than a hint of irritation in his voice.
John looked up at him. In truth, the young officer was quite attractive, with close cropped slightly blonde hair and green eyes setting off a handsome his typical all-American look. He fit the type that John preferred for his treatments. “I just wanted to make sure I have all the facts,” he told the young police officer.
As Casey squirmed in his chair, he thought about the nineteen more sessions of this to endure just because of some lowlifes’ complaints. “Excessive” force, “insensitive and inappropriate” language, “arrogant” attitude, and “poor” policing. Those fucking cunts on the Review Board had lapped up the chance to nail him because he wouldn’t kiss their ass during the hearing. Woke bastards had no idea of what it was like on the streets. Moaning about excess force, insensitivity to others, inappropriateness of language, and arrogance. Idiots had no conceptions of what good policing was.
This was all the fault of the new guy in charge of the department, Captain Topper. What sort of name was Topper? His old boss would have deep-sixed these complaints. Topper had sent them to the Review Board. He was the worst. Sitting there with that smug smile on his face and the file with Casey’s name stamped across the front so that Casey could see how thick it was. Just bursting with complaints.
The bastard hadn’t even bothered to stand up or to shake hands when Casey reported to him. No respect. Just “Sit.” That’s all he said. As if Casey were a dog. His dark eyes seemed to bore right into Casey. Then he leaned back in his chair and laced his hands behind his neck. Spreading his arms so his biceps showed and his shirt tightened over his swollen chest. So, he worked out. Big deal; so, did Casey. Though Casey had to concede the guy looked great. Casey noticed the dark curls that peaked out from under the open shirt collar. He had to also admit he envied guys who had hairy chests. Casey with his light blonde hair, barely had a dusting across his well-developed pecs. The whole effect was to signal to Casey who was the top dog in this meeting. For a few minutes he looked at Casey without talking as if he was getting sized up in some way. Casey found it unsettling even slightly intimidating. If he expected support, he had been quickly abused of that thought. Instead of backing him, the man had simply said…
“The Review Board has mandated ten weeks of counseling and therapy. We will review your case after we’ve had a chance to read the therapist’s report. My secretary will give you the address and the list of appointment times on your way out. That’ll be all. Dismissed.”
That was it. No goodbye, no good luck, no nothing.
Casey had stood up and left. He didn’t bother to acknowledge him. If the guy couldn’t be polite. he’d be damned if he would. The encounter unsettled him. Topper’s smug confidence in his power set Casey’s teeth on edge. He yanked the piece of paper with the therapist’s name and address and the list of times out of the secretary’s hands and stuffed it into his pocket. Yes, he had been a bit excessive with these types.in his view, they had basically asked for it. Acting all girly in front of him. Joking about how tough he was acting. It felt as if they were questioning his masculinity and, worse, disrespecting his uniform. A uniform which he saw as a symbol of his manliness. Casey's self-image as a strong authority figure was very important to him, and when that image was threatened or challenged, he reacted with anger, scorn, contempt, denial. Unconsciously he felt threatened by these types of men which only made his conscience mind react with even more aggression. He thought about how his day started.
*****
He’d put on a fresh uniform for the Doctor appointment. As he did, Casey decided he’d soon have to order new uniforms. He could barely pull the trousers on over his thighs, and the arms of the shirt were almost uncomfortably tight around his biceps. He’d already had a few buttons pop off one shirt when he flexed his pecs. All those hours at the gym were paying off. He tucked the trousers inside his freshly polished and spit-shined boots and made sure the vertical stripe down the outside of the trouser legs was straight. He strapped the utility belt around his hips and checked to make sure everything was in place—the gun in its holster, Sam Brown belt nicely cinched to display his narrow waist, the nightstick swinging free in its loop on the right side, the flashlight, the canister of mace, the handcuffs. Finally, he pinned the badge in place over his left pec. He looked in the mirror and saw a cop. He valued the uniform and everything it stood for. Today, this Doctor was going to see a cop, a figure of authority, a man who didn’t put up with shit from anyone.
When he arrived at the man’s office, he made sure to rev the engine on his motorcycle several times. Let the bastards know he was here. He took his helmet off and tucked it into the crook of his right arm but, he left on his dark glasses. He wasn’t going to take those off. “Don’t let the bastards see your eyes.” That’s what one of the instructors at the Academy had said. Good advice.
He strode into the office telling himself he was here to waste twenty hours talking about his feelings, promising to be good, be nice to people, and pretend everybody was a law-abiding citizen. To his surprise his uniform had no effect on the guy. He didn’t act intimidated at all by the sight of a uniformed officer standing in front of him.
John suppressed a smile when Casey came into his office. He analyzed Casey's use of his uniform as a power play. An attempt by the officer to reinforce his self-image as an authority figure who dominates those he comes into contact with. He knew it was a classic ploy by Casey to assert control over a situation that he found annoying and uncomfortable. His goal was to remake Casey's self-image and reform his behavior. Still, as a submissive gay man, he had to admit he was attracted to and stimulated by the tight blue uniform and, the way it clung to the contours of that muscular body. His eyes drifted briefly down to Casey’s crotch. Judging from the nicely rounded mound, Casey had an impressive package. He made a note to spend more time in that area when things got further along. He directed the officer to sit down, enjoying how the pants rose up to give more emphasis to the young man’s family jewels. “Remove the sunglasses, unless you wear them for medical reasons,” he sternly stated. John's face stayed emotionless as he watched Casey reluctantly comply. He knew exactly why the officer had worn sunglasses. It was a childish attempt to give himself more authority. By making him remove them, John was taking control at once. Taking his time reading the reports was the next step. He was already familiar with the documents concerning Casey. Making the officer sit there while he pretended to examine him again had the desired effect of increasing his discomfort while, reenforcing who was in charge. He assumed Casey was going to think that this was going to be a conversation between them. Throwing an unexpected twist would continue the process of keeping him off balance. “I suggest we start with aromatherapy.”
“Aromatherapy,” he asked with a look of confusion. What a load of crap , he decided as his lips curled in disdain.
“My session …my call,” the Doctor replied.
Christ, what was this shit , he thought. Some type of faggy nonsense for “ladies” in a spa. And he had nineteen more sessions of this. He should have known as soon as he realized the doctor was Chinese that there would be some crap like this. His clothes were going to stink of this stuff. He’d smell like he had doused himself in some girly cologne. Jesus, it was enough to make him wonder if the job was worth it. Maybe he should join ICE. As soon as he got out of here, he would rush home, change, and then put in a couple of hours at the gym and then maybe stop in that pick-up bar on Reseda to get himself a bit of ass to pound.
“It’s really quite simple officer,” John explained. “You just lay there with your eyes closed breathing in the scent. You lay there just breathing while letting your mind drift into a state of relaxation. Once we have induced this condition, we can train your mind to go into it whenever you feel stressed. I want to train you to have the ability to induce the relaxations.”
“It sounds silly to me, “Casey said. “But if it’ll satisfy my superiors to have me lying on a couch breathing that shit to get me back on duty then, I’m on board.” He got up from the chair. Instinctively he reached to pull down the material where his pants had bunched up around his crotch. As he smoothed it down his thighs, he glanced up to see the Doctor smiling at him. He was used to people checking out his junk, but usually when he caught him at it, they were the one embarrassed. The doctor seemed to have no reaction at all and instead a feeling of embarrassment came over him. “I just have to lie down here in brief is that what you’re saying,” he muttered
“Exactly,” the Doctor said. “Now make yourself comfortable hands at your sides no talking just eyes closed and breathing,” he instructed using a firm tone of voice that carried with a hint of authority.
“Yes, okay Doc,” Casey instantly replied.
“It is Doctor, young man, not Doc or buddy or whatever,” John quickly said with a little bit more force in his voice. “I expect respect.”
“Yes, sorry,” Casey quickly responded. “I didn’t mean to insult you, Doctor.” Looking, embarrassed at having been scolded he laid down on the couch.
John took note that his quick compliance with instructions showed an inner mental disposition to obey authority. He had found that this “tendency to yield to an authority” was something that most athletes had within their psyche. Casey’s file had showed that he had participated on baseball teams from an early age. Being a player had meant listening to his coaches. Being a cop had meant following the orders of his superiors. Although none of his coaches or superior officers had the intent, the ultimate result of their constant training in unqualified obedience had predisposed Casey instinctively do it. John intended to bring that into the forefront of his mind. Once it was accomplished, he would strengthen it until it was a resistible force within the young officer.
In John’s opinion, Casey fit the profile of a closeted submissive. His over exaggerated machismo, combined with harsh treatment of men which he considered to be submissive, were a prime indication of his suppression of that very nature within him. John’s specialty was in breaking down that closet door. It was ironic that John himself was a submissive too. Yet, when dealing with men like Casey, he intended to be the alpha sub in their encounter. As he once told a friend, “It takes a submissive to really know what can turn on another submissive, even a closeted one.”
The first step was to use the aromas in the specially prepared concoctions that he had developed. They would not only get the young officer, mentally intoxicated, they would also stimulate him sexually. The aroma devices would focus the fumes directly at the officer. He would position himself behind the officer's head so that he was not visible to Casey. He would be wearing a special prepared miniature mask around his nose that kept the fumes out of his system but enabled him to talk clearly and distinctly.
*****
Casey tried to relax and not think about the guys who filed the complaints. Actually, he was surprised that they had. During their arrest they had been whimps or, in his opinion, “complete pussies.” He never would have expected they would have the balls to challenge him. Casey always found guys that displayed submissive tendencies got under his skin. From an early age, he had been inducted into a concept of what a man should be. As far as he was concerned, submissive men were not men.
He breathed in deeply hoping to get this session over as fast as possible. God, this crap was giving him a headache. The smell was getting so intense, it was making him dizzy. For sure, once he got out of here and finished with this shit, he was going to report this to the union and HR. God he felt so tired. He hadn’t slept well the night before over his concerns about having to do these sessions. Now, he had to put up with some treatment involving smelling.
He thought about the Doctor sitting off to one side. The guy had to be at least eighty. He was all hunched over and wrinkled. And thin, it was a wonder he had the strength to walk across the room. You could tell he’d never been big. Always a scrawny runt. Having this old guy determine his future as a cop unnerved him. It wasn’t because he was almost forty years older. Casey had always had coaches that were older than him when he was in school. Even in the academy, he found he enjoyed working under the older instructors. If he had to be honest, Casey would prefer that he not be Chinese. For some reason, Asian men always unsettled him. There was also something in the way he looked at him that had Casey slightly uneasy. He chalked it up to the fact that, as usual, people simply stared because he was good looking and well built. Even at an early age he had “noticed that other people noticed him.” However, it felt different this time or, at least it felt different to him. Still, getting back to the security of his job with its rules and order made him willing to ‘go with the flow’ as his friends always told him. An image of his captain telling Casey he did good flashed into his mind. Knowing he’d pleased Topper unexpectedly gave him a warm sensation. He was shocked by it and quickly dismissed it and the captain from his mind.
Casey kept breathing in the fumes. This sucks, why didn’t I refuse to do it, he decided. He had been about to tell the Doctor that very fact when suddenly the man had taken a sharp tone with him over the “Doc” reference. Something in his voice had caused Casey to backdown. It was like the same authoritarian voice his coaches and the older instructors at the Police Academy always used on him. Hearing it, always triggered compliance within him.
Laying down on the couch felt weird, especially knowing that the Doctor was sitting up and looming over him. Yet, the thought of mentioning that he felt uncomfortable, even intimidated was not something he wanted to admit. He simply told himself that he was going to go along with it rather than look like a whining pussy. Subconsciously, however, his predisposition to obey authority combined with the sensation of intimidation was slipping into place. The chemical concoctions in the fumes he was about inhale would do the rest.
“Now I want you to relax officer,” John instructed.
“You just want me to keep sitting here with my eyes closed and breathe, right,” Casey asked. By now, he was really feeling slightly unsettled. His thoughts were getting jumbled.
“Yes, that’s all you must do. I want you to think peaceful thoughts and relax,” John said as the fumes wafted over Casey.
“This smells kind of weird,” Casey said as he took more of the odor into his lungs.
“Just harmless herbs to help you slightly relax so we can continue our session,” John said in a soothing tone of voice. He watched as Casey’s chest rose and fell, indicating that he was doing as instructed and inhaling the concoction.
“Feel funny,” Casey said, slurring the words together indicating the fumes were having an effect.
“Just relax and keep breathing Officer,” John said. “I want you to take a few good deep whiffs, relax, listen only to the sound of my voice.
“Geez… feeling kind dizzy Doc…Doctor…sorry,” Casey slowly muttered as he complied. He took in another series of deep breaths.
John grinned at how Casey had not only remembered his instruction about the use of Doc, but he’d also instantly apologized for his mistake. Yes, this young man fit the requirements that his ‘owner’ required in his stable of submissives. He sat and watched as with every deep breath, Casey fell further under the fumes’ influence.
For Casey, it was as if he was drifting off on a cloud. His body felt heavy. Yet even though his mind was relaxing, he felt the familiar tingling of sexual stimulation. He could sense he was becoming slightly erect. The last thing he wanted to do was “throw a boner” in front of this Asian doctor.
John, who had also noticed the slight rise in Casey’s crotch, smiled. Casey’s speech patterns had already shown the effects of the drug in penetrating his brain. The sight of this cop was getting an erection showed that the sexual stimulation drug was doing it precisely what it should be doing. “That’s right officer…keep breathing… you’re doing so well,”. John said while modulating his voice to just the right pitch to get deeper into Casey’s brain. “You’re doing so well…. you really know how to follow orders. I bet you like following orders, don’t you?”
“I guess…yes…follow orders,” the now out-of-it Casey confessed. By now he was truly aroused. He could feel his uncut, twelve inches pressing against the material in his uniform pants. Unconsciously his right hand reached over to cover his crotch. “Fuck,’ he said, as he felt its outline under his blue uniform. His cock had never felt so sensitive. Scared that the Doctor might see him in such a state, his hand kept his crotch protectively to keep it hidden.
“Hands down at your sides,” John sharply instructed using the authoritative tone of voice that had worked so well to achieve Casey’s compliance. He smiled seeing that the muscled, uniformed stud quickly did his instructed. “Now that is what I like to see. A boy {intentionally using this term to chip away at the office’s sense of his own masculinity } following orders. It feels good to follow orders, doesn’t it? It shows you’re a good boy.”
Good boy,” Casey replied. The words triggered a memory in him. “Good boy,” he repeated as the last sections of his brain succumbed to the effects of the fumes. He had never felt more at ease, but also never more sexually stimulated. He focused on the Doctor’s voice; the only firm anchor his brain now had to hold onto.
“Yes, I know you like to be a good boy. I bet when you’re a good boy it turns you on,” John suggested. He knew he was taking a slight risk pushing the issue. However, judging from what was going on with Casey, he thought he would take a chance. Casey had shown a clear reaction to the term “good boy “. He decided to repeat it to see what would happen. “Yes, you want to be a good boy. A very good boy. You really enjoy it when you’re a very good boy. Casey is a good boy.”
Good boy, I’m a good boy,” Casey slowly groaned. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain, these words triggered an old memory. Something he had long suppressed came to the surface. In his drugged, fucked-up state of mind, the memory rushed to the forefront of his brain. Transporting him to the past…and to one event that had marked him.
He was 16 years old, and it involved Jack, his older cousin. Casey had always admired Jack. His cousin was nineteen years old and in the prime of youthful strength. Casey had always looked up to him as a sort of older brother and life guide. In many ways he worshiped him. In truth, they were strange combination. Casey was the fair-haired, all-American boy in looks an attitude. Jack’s father had married a Chinese woman while he was in military service overseas. Jack was a product of that union. In the Deep South town where they grew up, Jack’s slight, Asian features marked him to many in town as not quite white. To Casey, however, he was the person he most wanted to be like. For Jack, there was no future in the South, and he intended to leave in the fall for college and never come back. For Casey that eventuality was devastating. The event occurred during one of those those hot summer days a few weeks before Jack was to leave for college. They had been swimming buck naked in the lake. Afterwards, drying off in the sun, Jack had suggested they engage in one last friendly wrestling match. This time however, he suggested that they wrestle naked.
Casey had felt funny about it since, in prior matches, they had been dressed. However, whatever Jack wanted was something he always ended up doing. So, he went with it. As usual, with Jack, being older and stronger, he easily dominated Casey in the match. Then, unexpectedly, Jack pulled a “oil check” maneuver on Casey by slipping his hand deep between his cousin’s butt cheeks then letting a finger slightly penetrate Casey’s butthole to use as leverage. The effect on Casey had been instantaneous. Getting this area touched for the first time especially, by someone he worshiped, had caused him to sprout an erection. Embarrassed he tried to cover it up only to have Jack laugh and say it was perfectly fine while showing he had the beginnings of one too. He laughingly suggested they mutually jack off. Casey was reluctant but, unwilling to appear weak in front of his cousin. He joined him in a jerk off session. With Jack’s encouragement, they only edged for a while.
No need to rush cuz,” Jack softly said as they stroked, “it’s just us here. Let’s enjoy it.”
Even though he was embarrassed, Casey felt completely turned on “meat beating” in front of Jack. Without realizing it, he kept taking quick glances at Jack’s impressive erection, wondering what it felt like to stroke that thick shaft. He was so engrossed in masturbating that he didn’t notice that Jack was observing Casey’s reaction and slightly smiling. Casey was clearly in sexual heat and, judging from the surreptitious looks he was giving Jack’s cock, aroused by the sight. His cousin's actions encouraged Jack to continue with his plan. As much as he did love Casey, he couldn’t forget that his mixed heritage had made him an outcast in the town while Casey was the local fair-haired boy. A part of him it always slightly resented it and Casey. Now, he realized he might have an opportunity to even the score by ‘scoring’ on Casey’ s virginal butt.
At some point Jack suggested it might go even hotter if they jerked off each other. A thoroughly aroused and flushed Casey, although scared, found that the idea appealed to him. He justified it by telling himself that Jack would never do anything that was weird. As Jack jerked him off, Casey’s mind soon drifted off into a sexual heat. Jack’s hand on his cock was amazing. He expertly manipulated Casey’s meat until it was slick with his pre-cum. Casey’s hand maneuvers on Jack’s shaft however we’re quite clumsy. “I’m not doing a good job,” an embarrassed Casey had admitted.
A smiling Jack assured his “cuz” it was fine but suggested that there were other ways for men to get off their sexual balls off than jerking off. To Casey’s shock, Jack began kissing him, then rubbing crotches together. Casey had never been so sexually excited in his life. His hormones racing, he completely surrendered to everything Jack did. Lost in a sexual heat, he even let Jack anally penetrate him. At every step of his seduction and introduction into male sex, Jack would gently caress Casey and tell him he was being such a good boy. Casey never knew getting plowed by another man could be so erotic. Moaning and whimpering as his prostate was stimulated by Jack’s thrusting, the young cousins soon mutually orgasmed.
What did we do?” A confused Casey asked.
Just horsing around Casey,” Jack told him even though inwardly he was thinking how he had dumped his load into the town’s golden boy and made him a bitch. “No big deal right cuz.”
Casey nodded even though a part of him felt it was a big deal. Yet so great was his hero worship, he convinced himself that Jack would never do anything that was really wrong. “Yeah, no big deal,” he said even as Jack’ s spunk oozed out of his sore asshole and dribbled down between his legs.
Afterwards, they jumped back into lake to wash off. Casey looked at his cousin with the first stirrings of a different type of loving emotion. They dressed. To Casey’s surprise, Jack took hold of him and gave him a deep kiss while telling him he was such a good boy, Jack said they should never talk about what they’d done again.
(Note to the reader: Jack would have further adventures turning out straight boys to experience the pleasures of anal sex and being a more dominant man’s cum dump.)
*****
For Casey, his first sexual experience with another person, let alone a guy, was mind shattering. For weeks after all he could think about was his cousin fucking him and how good it felt. His youthful over-sexed brain relived every second of it. How it felt being annually penetrated, the effect of getting his prostate rubbed, all while recalling Jack telling him he was ‘a good boy’ as he screwed him into an orgasm. For more than a few nights, he lay in his bedroom masturbating, imagining it all. Whispering the words good boy and, how much he wanted to be Jack’s good boy. Jack always managed to avoid getting together with Casey in private again. At the end of summer, Jack went to college and rarely came back. Even when he did, their relationship was never quite the same soon. Casey soon went off to college, then military service as an MP, and finally entered the local police. Over time the memory of that event was buried deep in his psyche. Now, thanks to the drugs in his system it had come back to life in his addled brain. “Good boy,” he groaned as his cock began oozing precum. “Jack’s good boy,” he grunted as the sensations of Jack’s thrusting into his ass vividly took over his mind. His torso squirmed on the couch, lost in the memory of what it all felt like being fucked. Initial pain followed by indescribable bliss. At every step, Jack telling him he was such a good boy as brought him to heights of sexual ecstasy. The smile on Jack’s face as he penetrated him flashed before his brain. The knowledge that Jack was dominating him, taking him like a girl. To Casey, Jack was everything a man should be, and he had the right to take what a man had a right to take. Casey had never felt like he measured up to the man that Jack was but now, he could be what Jack could use for his pleasures. He had buried away the memories of that sexual pleasure that came from being fucked by a strong man. It all flooded back. Even though it had not been his intent, nor had, he realized he was doing it, Jack’s actions had planted seeds deep within the subconscious parts of Casey’s brain. These seeds associated sexual fulfillment with being a little bitch boy. “I’m Jack’s good boy,” he loudly cried out. His entire body quaked as he had an orgasm inside his uniform.
A fascinated John had watched as an ever-enlarging wet spot appeared in Casey’s crotch, followed by a smile on Casey’s face. Whatever it was that was going on inside the hunky, young officer’s brain was turning him on. He had to admit he was shocked when Casey actually ejaculated right in front of him while whispering the name of Jack in combination with the words, ‘good boy’. John decided that probing this memory was the key to taking Casey from a hotshot, macho posing cop into his little mugou {bitch}. As Casey lay there taking in more and more of the fumes, he picked up his cell phone and made a quick call “I think we have the key to accomplish what you wish, Sir,” he respectfully said to the man at the other end. He listened denied and then ended the call.
A smiling Captain Topper placed his cell phone back in his pocket. Things are going along quite nicely. Upon his arrival at the station, he had decided that Casey would be the next young stud to add to his stable of submissive men. By now he had quite a collection of hot, well-built young men, whose lives revolved around him. A young fireman whose good-looks and build had made him a perennial favorite calendar cover model for his department, an Olympic swimmer who was the wet-dream of many, the buff young CEO of a major corporation who was on every list of the city’s sexy eligible bachelors, and an up-and-coming hot young congressman had all become his stable of beta boys. Casey had the looks and the build, and his attitude of smug superiority was begging to be taken down. After reading his psychological profile, he knew that Casey would be the perfect candidate for indoctrination. Reading between the lines, he could see that Casey’s actions were merely a cover for his innate natural tendency for submission.
Getting a few of his average fags to file complaints against the young officer had been the first step. Using blackmail on a few of the Review Board members, who his fags had seduced into compromising positions, to insist upon counseling session with John was the next one. The Asian doctor was one of the first guys that he turned into his bitch and was his most valuable asset. He devoted to him. John would use his professional skills to turn out Casey. The doctor had been quite expert and doing it before in similar cases; things were going according to plan
*****
Casey woke up to find the Doctor looking at him. He followed the man’s visual focus to his crotch. To his horror, the area was soaked and definitely was giving off the odor of semen. He realized he’d had a wet dream right in the man’s office. He stared at the doctor struggling to say something.
“It’s really nothing to be concerned about,” the Doctor had said in a soothing tone of voice. His calmness only increased Casey sense of humiliation. “Sometimes the body reacts in the most surprising manner during such therapy.”
Casey could barely take in what he was saying. He kept staring at his crotch. The cold, clammy wetness, and the sight of those little bubbles staining his uniform had his brain spinning. In his mind, ejaculating in his uniform defiled everything he stood for as a cop. Worse, he had actually had cum while this man was watching him. He could barely look at John. “Something like this has never…never…” he tried to say before his voice failed him.
“As I said things like this can happen. It’s really nothing to be concerned about. In the meantime, I have some pants we wear in the hospital that you can change into. I’m assuming you don’t want to go out looking like that…’ he paused, letting that image come into Casey’s brain. “They might be a bit snug on you but passable. I’ll get them.”
Casey had no desire to go out in public looking like this, especially in his uniform. “Yes please,” he said. He was grateful that the man understood the situation and was trying to help. It didn’t make his humiliation any less intense, but he was now seeing the Doctor in a new light.
As intended by his offer, John had taken the first subtle step in training Casey’s mind to think of him as someone that took charge in a crisis and could fix things. He left and came back a few minutes later with a pair of green drawstring pants that were typical of what physicians wore during hospital duty.
Casey began to takeoff all the implements that he had first donned in order to impress the Doctor. On some level he felt as if he was stripping off parts of his authority.
John stayed in the room reading papers. Occasionally he would glance up to look at Casey. Slowly Casey took off his uniform pants. At one point he fumbled trying to get it over his bulky, regulation police shoes.
John took in the sight of Casey’s strongly muscled legs with their light dusting of blonde hairs. “You might want to lose the briefs too,” the Doctor said. “The pants material is soft enough so you can go commando without any chaffing. Besides, keeping them on would only end up staining them, which would defeat the whole purpose of changing.”
Casey thought he would die of shame but, recognized that the man was correct. He turned to face the wall and quickly bent over to push down his briefs.
His actions gave John a nice view of Casey’s perfectly rounded, muscled butt-cheeks in all their glory. Flawless and pale they were also hairless. Twin dimpled things beauty. As the young cop lifted one leg then, the other to get the underwear off, he provided John with a nice back view of his low hanging balls. In truth, the Doctor found this to be the sexiest image of a man. Thighs slightly spread with gently swinging balls hanging between them. “Now they might be a bit snug, but they should fit,” John told him when Casey picked up the pants John had provided.
“I’m sure they will be fine,” Casey softly replied as he turned to look at John, briefly forgetting he was naked from the waist down.
Nice equipment , John thought. Thick, long, uncut too. Impressive ball sack.
Suddenly realizing his junk was waving right in front of the doctor, Casey turned back to face the walls and began putting them. By now he was so flustered he caught his right leg inside the pants. Silently cursing, he struggled to finish dressing. Once done, he reached down to pick up everything he had taken off. His uniform pants, belt, and all the utility equipment he had worn in order to impress his authority upon the Doctor. They had all been discarded on the floor. As he bent forward the thin material of his medical pants hugged his rump.
So round, so firm, ready to be plucked, John mused. His face was an emotionless mask when the now subdued, and clearly embarrassed, Casey turned to him holding them.
“Thanks Doc…I mean, doctor,” Casey quietly said with none of the bravado in his voice that he first demonstrated upon arrival. “Nothing like this has ever…” he stopped unable to formulate any words to justify having ‘shot a load’ during the session.
“Think nothing of it,” John soothingly said. “What happens in this office stays here. I have many young boys that sometimes lose control in a session.” He saw Casey grimacing at being referred to as a boy. His lack of objection, which he probably would’ve done when they initially met, was another score in the Doctor's plan. “I want you to take some of these substances that we used in the aromatherapy. Put it in a little bowl by your bed. Light it up every night. Let the fumes relax you and we will meet in three weeks. Remember now, you must use it every night. Doing that may even help us decrease the number of sessions you have to undergo,” he added using the carrot approach to ensure compliance.
Casey took the bag containing the mixture. “Thank you,” he said. He would follow the instructions to the letter if doing it would end the sessions sooner. However, by now all he wanted to do was leave. With a brief nod, he quickly left.
John smiled as he gazed out the window watching Casey trying to bundle his stuff onto his motorcycle’s small bag. He even had a slight chuckle when Casey bungled trying to turn the motorcycle. Whatever had occurred during the session had unsettled him. His ejaculation in his uniform was an unexpected but delightful event as well. Something that would be further exploited in the future. He knew that, after a week of breathing in the fumes, Casey would be ready for the next session where John would find out exactly what it was that it caused the handsome, young officer to have a hands-free orgasm. The process of turning Officer Casey into a Mugou was going along quite nicely.