The Case Files of Dr. Jason Rose
by Mesmer's Bauble
11:00AM – 12:00PM
I was still smiling wistfully and looking at the phone when it rang, the number was the front office. I looked up at the clock and cursed to myself. I had let the call to Gail throw me off schedule and now I had a client waiting. Normally that wouldn't be a problem but this was a new client and I had done none of the necessary preparation.
I picked up the line and before Janice could say anything I interrupted her, as I usually do for one reason or another, “I know, apologize and tell them that I'll need five minutes.” Even as Janice stuttering out a surprised, “Yes Doctor.” I hung up the phone and turned to my desk drawer. I pulled out a pair of glasses and slipped them on wincing slightly as the specially treated polarized lenses shifted the world slightly. I didn't have time to get used to them though. I jumped from my chair and turned the monitor around carefully aiming the screen at the picture over the bookshelf across from my couch.
I slid my chair around my desk and positioned it so that the monitor was just over my shoulder. The idea was simple but effective; no matter where my client looked they would see either the monitor or its reflection. Before I sat down I quickly grabbed a pad, it had my cursory notes regarding this client as well as giving me the impression of doing something. I hit the call button on my phone and told Janice to send her in. As the phone call ended, I double clicked the icon labeled 'ses1.exe' and my computer screen filled with a shifting patter of blacks and whites, though I knew that without the aid of my special glasses all a normal eye would see was an empty white screen, a bit jarring but not too suspicious.
I sat down on my chair and breathed a sigh of relief before glancing down at the notes I had made after speaking with Mrs. Kim. They were hand written and filled with side notes and comments.
Name: Miyako Kim
Age: 13
Race: Japanese – American
Family Background: Single mother (divorced), older brother (16), Robert Davis (mother's boyfriend of 6 months moved in one month ago) → boyfriend moving in likely trigger incident.
Client Background: According to the client's mother prior to her divorce two years ago Miyako was a 'happy and obedient child'. After the divorce (mother was hesitant to discuss reason, possibly noteworthy) the client became more and more distant and 'wild'. Changes to appearance and behavior were mentioned. (Asian schoolgirl to rebel burnout, no hypnosis required.) Her mother noted indications of drug and alcohol use but either ignored them or attributed them to her older son. Following the beginning of Mr. Davis' cohabitation the client's behavior become overtly hostile and abusive as well as increasing her drug and alcohol use to the point where her mother could no longer ignore it. Two weeks ago the client ran away from home, she was found two days later, by her brother, in the home of a drug dealer from school burned out (prior incidents were cannabis use, this time it was harder, most likely heroin) The client spent a week detoxing in the hospital and was referred to my office for drug treatment as well as dealing with the underlying the issues that lead the girl’s actions.
The door opened and I had to fight to control my delight. The girl who walked was in her own way kind of amazing. She had a beautiful face and a ‘just on the edge of developing’body. Her face was highlighted by bright almost whorish makeup in greens and purples while her body was dressed in a tight fitting black outfit; a faded band tee that was two sizes to small and a pair of black jeans that were torn and faded. Her coal black hair had been highlighted in green and purple and was done up in a pair of pigtails. She met my gaze and sneered, I just smiled back. I also spotted at least three piercing in places other than her ears. Taking up my pen I made a note to check to see if the girl wasn’t in fact some other controller’s pet project, still, human psychology is a complex thing and it doesn’t take mind control to change a person utterly.
Following Miyako into the room was her mother, Rumiko Kim. Despite a face that bore an unmistakable family resemblance, the older woman was the polar opposite of her daughter. She was dressed in modest dress in dark colors that disguised whatever shape her body might have and she had her eyes cast down as if shamed by her daughter’s appearance.
I walked over and offered my hand to Rumiko and her daughter. The mother shook my hand daintily while her daughter ignored the offer and slumped herself on the couch. “Good morning, Mrs. Kim It’s a pleasure to meet you in person. I’m Dr. Jason Rose and this must be Miyako.” The girl studiously ignored me and her mother and I smiled, both to calm Mrs. Kim and because the young girl’s eyes were already being drawn to the monitor screen on my desk.
“Yes, thank you again for seeing us on such short notice. Things have been… bad.” Her voice was meek and the understatement of the situation earned us a derisive snort from her daughter. I ignored Miyako for the moment and continued talking to her mother, “As I mentioned on the phone, I believe private sessions would benefit your daughter, at least initially. If that is still alright with you, you are welcome to sit in the waiting room, my secretary will be happy to provide you anything you may need.”
Rumiko nodded at me, “Whatever you think is best.” And with no other comments she left the room. I closed the door behind her pushing it tight to ensure the sound proofing was sealed. “So Miyako, I can’t imagine you want to be here and before you say anything let me take a guess ‘I don’t have a problem’ or ‘this is bullshit’ or ‘leave me alone its none of your business.’” My tone changed when speaking to the girl, I dropped all signs of professionalism and spoke to her like I would an adult. She turned at that, eyes not quite meeting mine, instead focusing on the reflection of the monitor over my head.
“All of the above.” I smiled at that and she couldn’t help smiling too. I walked back to my chair and took a seat. “Fair enough, but I don’t THINK you have any real desire to die. That is to say you’re not suicidal, but the medical records the hospital faxed over showed you almost killed yourself a few weeks ago. THAT is a problem or am I wrong?” She didn’t look at me but I saw her head nod a bit. The motion was a little slow and a sign that the blank screen was starting to work. It was designed to slowly increase in strength over approximately fifteen minutes and was the mind control equivalent of a sledgehammer to the head. Powerful and messy but it got the job done, especially with minds which hadn’t been primed for more subtle programs.
Keeping up the pretext I continued to ask her about her almost overdose, although to be honest a drug problem was almost childishly simple to solve when you can break a mind open and play around with the bits inside, “So why did you do it?” She shrugged but didn’t say anything, I let the silence stretch out; most people are very uncomfortable with silence and have a tendency to fill it if given no other choice. After about a minute she spoke, turning to face me though her eyes drifted slowly back to the screen, now over my shoulder. “I didn’t mean to OD, obviously. I was just so pissed off at everyone, Mom and Shun… and Robert, “the last word was spoken through clenched teeth. “The pot and vodka wasn’t doing shit to make me feel better so I went over Johnny’s house with a fist full of cash stolen from Robert’s wallet and told him to make me feel good. Next thing I remember clearly was Shun carrying me to his car, you know the rest.”
She was showing progress as the program continued to ramp up, I doubted that she would be that honest about her past if her mind wasn’t already starting to open up. I kept her talking for two reasons, first it would give me a good sense of when the program took hold completely, and second it would give me ideas for what to do with my new plaything.
We discussed her parent’s divorce; she blamed her mother and missed her father, nothing shocking there. We touched on her mother’s dating life and Robert in particular. She hated any attempt to replace her father, but Robert particularly struck a nerve because he was, apparently, as unlike her father as anyone could be. Her mother falling for someone like that had turned the embers of rebellion into a fire. It was just as we were discussing her brother that her voice started to falter, long pauses between her thoughts stretching longer and longer as her face grew blank and her gaze steady.
“…Shun is… too nice… tries to play the good son… I know he misses… dad… too… but………” her voice trailed off to silence, her face was blank and serene. I let her fall deeper into the whiteness as I considered my new canvas. I always have a sense of both excitement and trepidation when I start a new project. There were dozens, even hundreds of paths that I could take this young girl down, twisting her into any number of new shapes. Picking the right one was the trick.
I could go the simple route, and place in the young girls mind the seed of new sexual fetish. It could be anything from an anal obsession to zoophilia. The specific fetish wasn’t really the point, though some were more interesting than others. Watching her adjust and adapt to her new fetish, seeing how it changed her life, warped her mind; that would be the fun part. She already had the addiction in place so shifting it to something more entertaining wouldn’t be hard, and I suppose that is why I shied away from it. I would be too easy, too obvious; there was no creativity in that.
Although that’s not totally accurate, it would depend on how out-there I made the fetish. I thought back to one young girl whom a colleague of mine had given an intense sexual obsession with brooms. Watching a 15 year old sweep herself to orgasm while grinding against the lacquered wood handle had been a sight to see. Still I left that in the back of my mind and considered other options.
An old quote popped into my mind then, probably prompted by the mental image of that sexy sweeper. “My mother said it as simple to keep a man; you must be a maid in the living room, a cook in the kitchen, and a whore in the bedroom.” That was an interesting possibility for young Miyako. In order to appear to be doing my job I had to cure her drug abuse, no problem, but her mother really wanted her perfect little girl back. I could give her that only with a twist. Shun had saved her from ODing so I could push her new whorish side onto her brother, starting as hero worship and growing ever more obsessive. In an admittedly obvious twist I could instead have her become Robert’s secret lover; maybe even have her steal him from her mother once she turned 18. That put a wicked grin on my face. Both men would probably resist her advances but a few family sessions would be enough to break through their initial resistance and the skills I would teach her would do the rest.
I blinked, moving from my mind’s eye to the room around me. Miyako was slumped back on the couch; face empty, mouth half open with a drip of drool running down her chin. That was the thing with the blank screen; it put clients so deep there wasn’t much left of them. To use an old expression the lights were on but nobody was home. That was that reason that there was little I could do to the girl when she was in the white, even the most simplistic post hypnotic commands wouldn’t stick. Of course, if I could do what I enjoy doing in one session there wouldn’t be much point of having a practice as a front.
I stood from my chair and moved to the girl. I knew from experience she was like a living doll at the moment, so I spread her legs and pulled down her pants and panties. Positioning her hand at her crotch I moved it up and down, helping her to stimulate her cunt. After a few moments the pleasure reached her lizard brain and she started to move on her own. Post hypnotic suggestions wouldn’t stick when she was this deep but physical and emotional connections could still be made, this one was a simple one, and one I used with almost all of my patients. Trance equals pleasure, my office equals pleasure, I equal pleasure. It was a simple message, and one that was never processed consciously, at least not during the early phases, but it did a lot to break through resistance to subtler forms of hypnosis and mind control. The same kinds I would use later to access her subconscious and start making changes; that was, once I decided what changes I wanted to make.
I sat back down and continued to ponder, watching my new client robotically masturbate while staring glassy eyed at a blank white screen. That sparked another idea. I could turn her into a sexbot; which is to say strip out much of her conscious and subconscious mind and convince her she was a machine, fully programmable of course. Miyako would become just another program she would run. It allowed for a lot of options and I hadn’t done anything like it in a good long while. It was a very tempting idea, a challenging transformation without taking away any variety. In the mood for something new, ‘write’ a new program: loliwhore.exe, sluttyschoogirl.exe, frenchmaid.exe, the options were endless.
I thought about it for a solid ten minutes before I remembered why I hadn’t done it in such a long time. As a rule I don’t make slaves for myself. I could, easily, have a stable of toys at home but I didn’t. Sure I often took advantage of my ‘projects’ at work but at home I didn’t even have a girlfriend. This was due mostly to my own fickle nature. Dating always lead to me wanting to change the girl and I got bored too easily to want to keep slaves around. It was why the office was perfect, a lot of variety and no long term commitments. The last time I had done the sexbot thing had been when I had a brother and a sister to play with. He had been become her sexbot and she was the kinky mad scientist, at least in private. Around their parents their sibling rivalry went away thanks to some excellent therapy.
Miyako was different, I could turn her into a bot but for whom. Without pushing my reach and changing the whole family it would kind of be pointless. I could do that too but I already had a family I was playing around with and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to take on two. Still it wasn’t a bad idea, just one that needed much more consideration.
I looked at the clock, I had been thinking for a while and had come to no real conclusions, though I did have a raging hard on. Still, neither of those things was rare during an initial session. It would take time to bring Miyako back up to the surface of her mind so I turned around and shut down the program, the white screen went away, turning back into my desktop. I took off my glasses and sighed in pleasure as the slight headache they gave me went away. I spun the monitor around and went over to the girl, grabbing up my wet wipes. I moved her masturbating hand away from her pussy and used some wipes to clean her up before sliding her pants and panties back on and closing her legs.
Once she was presentable I began to talk. At first it was nothing but my tone, something to focus on. As she drifted slowly up towards consciousness I began to focus on what I was saying, using my words to pull her up to consciousness more rapidly. The one thing I did repeat over and over was that nothing unusual happened during our session, everything was perfectly normal. It wasn’t a suggestion per say but it would lodge itself in her brain for a short while, long enough that she wouldn’t notice any small hints of impropriety until long after she was out of the office and her brain’s own ability to rationalize would wipe them away.
As she began to blink and make mumbled noises I stopped my patter and spoke normally, “You were saying about Shun?” She focused her gaze on me and there was a long pause as her brain rebooted. Without the screen her natural reticence was back and her response was clipped, “Nothing, just that I’m sick of him pretending he’s ok with Robert moving in, that’s all.” Her eyes drifted away from mine and noticed the time. “Shit, have we really been talking for over an hour?” I nodded and as I hoped she didn’t question it even though it should have been obvious that we had not covered that much.
“Look we’re almost out of time so I’m going to be blunt.” I said looking at her, “I know you don’t want to be here, don’t want to talk about your problems and probably don’t want to stop using, but you fucked up.” Her eyes met mine, surprised that I had cursed. “You almost ODed and made it very clear to everyone you need help. So you have some choices, you can continue to come to me and I’ll treat you like an adult and we can work out a way keep you safe, or you can reject me and eventually end up in some long term in patient drug treatment program where they will treat you like a criminal and a child. Of course you could just end up dead next time you decide to make your pain go away, that is always an option and one that no one, not me or your mother can stop you from doing if that’s what you want. It’s up to you.” She soaked that in and I stood, walking across the room and opened the door.
I gestured to her mother who was sitting in the waiting room pretending to read a magazine and probably wrapped in her own deep thoughts. “So we’re done for today,” I told Mrs. Kim and then turned to Miyako, “Will we be meeting next week?” The mother might have thought the question was directed at her but Miyako got the message and nodded even as her mother said, “Yes of course.” I smiled at them both. “I’m looking forward to working with you Miyako.” That was the truth; a new canvas was, as I said before, always exciting.