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"When Rebecca first came to me, I'll admit I wasn't quite sure what to make of her requests. We're not, by nature, a therapy business. There are hundreds of professional, medically trained individuals who could help her with her requests, but I think she's got something a little different in mind. I think she wants something that she can't articulate properly. She may not know how to phrase it, or may simply be, as she said, too shy to do the things she wants to do.

"That's why I'm sending her to you, Conrad. I trust your ethics as much as I admire your skill, and hope you won't let me down in either regard." The black fox was still for a moment, before the prerecorded message ended and snapped to black, then to his wallpaper.

Conrad leaned back in his chair, and thought over the request. Technically speaking, he could send the young cat in his waiting room back to Kuroko without anyone really being worse off. Rebecca would no doubt be confused and probably upset, but it would be a temporary thing, and he didn't doubt there were other ways and other people that could be tried for this.

But even having that legitimate and acceptable out, he felt a bit obligated to at least consider the opportunity and request. As well as the file Kuroko had sent over.

Rebecca Gilmore, age thirty, feline (domestic shorthair) female/female, currently unemployed. There was a short personality assessment based on her interviews and what her user ID had been recorded doing in the Kuroko's Finest online portal. And a few more direct observations made by Kuroko and his fearsomely capable mouse, Alice.

"So what is it that you can't say, I wonder. I know what they're assuming, but is that really it?" Conrad sighed and shook his head. "Nothing to do but find out, I suppose." He pressed a key on his console, waited for the chime to catch Rebecca's attention, and asked her to come into his office.

The feline was cute, at least. Nice shape, a little hard to see with the baggy sweater and long skirt. He couldn't blame her, it was December. Boston wasn't nice and warm in Winter. White fur, what he could see, and her tail was a fountain of fluff, curled around her ankles. He had his office arranged in very precise fashion to tell him more about who he was talking to, and the first test was always his invitation to "sit, please."

At one corner of his desk's front was a chair, and at the other a couch. One of the sort that folks always pictured when asked to describe a psychologist's lair. Comfortably overstuffed, long enough to lay down on comfortably.

She chose the chair, perching on the edge with her knees together, hands on her knees. Tense and nervous. Things he had tools for, of course.

As a wolf, there were a few things he did better than most, and one particular trait he had spent a lot of time training. Voice, the point of control, and making it soft enough to comfort, while still strong enough to command. "Thank you for coming, Rebecca. I'll admit I was puzzled when you arrived on my doorstep, but Kuroko's message has cleared things up fairly well. As I understand it, you're looking for help with some social anxiety, help relaxing in public and in social situations? Is that correct?"

She nodded, hesitant at first, then stronger.

"And why is it that you aren't simply going to a regular therapist? There are any number of ways that you could get this result without going through hypnosis. While it's not painful in any way, it is also a long process. We're talking about several hours at a time, several days a week. At my office, mostly, though we'll have to test the effectiveness of the therapy in social situations outside of these four walls."

The question hung in the air for a moment, before the cat shrugged. "I have a hard time talking about my problems. Especially to medical folks. It's not rational, but it's scary. I don't want to be, um. Labeled. Diagnosed."

Not a common fear, anymore, after a century of aggressive campaigning to destigmatize mental illness and treat it the same way any other chronic problem was treated. But a known one, and often what sent long-term customers to him.

"Very well, Rebecca. I'm open for new patients, so we can work together on making you more comfortable and open. As I always do, I make the point with new customers that I don't want to keep seeing you forever. I want to help you through whatever the problem is, then let you go on your way and get on with being happier and healthier. Often that means helping someone beat an addiction or overcome a phobia. In your case I think it's some of the latter, but we'll see what I can learn once we put you under the first time."

She fidgeted in her seat a little. "You mean now?"

"I don't normally just jump right in, but since you're eager, and I already have a base profile for you, I suppose we can. Please lie on the couch and we'll begin."

Once she had moved, and he had pulled his chair up at the end of the couch nearest her head, and dimmed the lights further. Again, it was tone and pitch that would do the work.

"Concentrate on your breathing, feel the air moving out and in. I'll tap the couch next to your ear when you should breathe in, then again when you should breathe out. Just focus on the tapping and your breath." He kept an even, relaxed tone of voice, quiet and metronome steady, just like the slow tap of his finger on the couch. At first he matched it to her current rate, but once he was satisfied that he had control, he started to slowly step it down. Longer, slower breaths were part of the relaxation process.

"You can let me keep track of your breathing now, Rebecca. Just listen to the taps. We're just going to ask and answer some questions while you're relaxed and calm. Okay?"

She nodded a little bit.

"That's very good, you're a good kitty. You said you wanted to loosen up in social situations. Is that true?" Again a nod. "Is that the whole truth."

Her breath quickened, and he spent another minute or two bringing her back under control, helping her relax again without breaking the trance.

"That's not the whole truth. You want something else than just to loosen up. Can you tell me what you want? Take your time, use words. Breathe and speak, easy and slow."

This time her voice was relaxed, and slow, almost lazy. "I want to be a toy."

"A toy? What do you mean by that?"

"I want to not be under my own control."

"That's an unusual request. We'll talk about it when you're awake. When you are awake, you will remember this conversation. You will not be self conscious about this conversation. I'm going to count back from ten, and when I reach one, you will wake up. Ten, nine, eight," he went through the steady process of helping her back to full awareness.

A few seconds later, her breathing sped up and her eyes fluttered open. He watched a moment of realization and memory streak across her face, and the near panic that followed. Apparently the 'don't be self conscious' suggestion hadn't been reinforced well enough.

"Calmly. You know that anything said here is strictly confidential, and I'm obligated, both legally and ethically, to keep it to myself aside form discussing it with you. So no one but you and I needs to know what you said while you were down. Do you want to discuss it?"

She shook her head.

"It's scary, isn't it? Having a desire that's not exactly safe, and not exactly sane. You're afraid to discuss it with anyone, because you're afraid they'll label you as crazy, dismiss your desire as insane. So you bottle it up and try to ignore it, or you look for safe, private avenues to explore it, even if they don't satisfy fully. Does that sound right?"

She nodded, hesitantly.

"You're not the first person to come in here with a desire she wasn't really happy about. And just like her, I have to ask you whether you want to try to satisfy this desire, or suppress it and try to get on with your life?"

Rebecca closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "You know, part of me really, really wants to just make it go away. I know it's not safe. Trust me, I know. I've looked at it more than enough to know how scary it can be."

He nodded, and flicked his ears up, alert. "But?"

"But I don't want that. I want to just... do it, get it out, make it happen and decide if I like it. I mean... I don't get to decide, do I? If I like something I like it, it's not something I can really change, is it?"

Dylan shrugged. "These days? We can't literally change your mind or anything, but we can do a lot to give you more control over your life and thoughts than used to be the case. So if you really do want to not do this, want to stop thinking about being a cute mindless puppet, well, I can help with that."

*

Six weeks had passed, with sessions of a few hours, three times a week. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. The weekday sessions were fairly normal stuff, all working toward giving her the expected end goal of greater self-confidence and agency. Better control over her own thoughts and feelings.

The Saturday sessions were different. For one thing, they weren't at his office, but at his home. Less formal clothes, on both their parts, for another. Longer, too, but that was par for the course with what they were working on.

"Welcome back, Rebecca. I hope your ride was uneventful?"

"Thank you, Conrad, it was." She was wearing a very nice little sundress, and that long fountain of tail bare. It was, really, very nice, and as he understood it she took a great deal of pride in it, took good care of it. He could see why, it was a very nice tail.

The early afternoon sun was pouring through his windows, and lit amber highlights in her fur. He closed the door and followed her in. "So tell me, kitty, how was the rest of your week?"

"Nothing really interesting. I had a job interview yesterday, and I think it went well. Dinner out with Carol and her girlfriend. You'd probably like Amanda, she's a cute mouse. Kinda shy."

The wolf nodded a little, and gestured to the couch. "Please, lie down. I think we can build on last week's progress, if you'd like?" One thing that he'd been dead set on was establishing consent and choice from the start. He'd made it clear that these Saturday sessions were completely optional, and could be stopped or delayed on Rebecca's say so without interfering with the weekday sessions at all.

It was mostly a formality, though. Once she'd gotten over the big hump of deciding whether or not to trust him, she'd been pleasantly eager to push forward. So when she nodded and settled herself on the couch, he wasn't even a little surprised. The routine was similar to the office visits. Take control of her breathing, link her basic functions to his outside signals, and keep talking. Keep reassuring her that she was safe.

"Good kitty. Breathe slow, keep listening to my finger tapping. You don't need to think. Let me think for you. Empty your thoughts, empty your mind. Just breathe. I'm going to count back from ten, and when I reach one, you will be awake, aware, and obedient. You will be aware and thoughtless. If at any time you are directed or asked to do anything that you would not normally consent to, you will say your safeword. Ten. Nine. Eight."

When he reached One, her eyes fluttered open, and she started to breathe a little faster, but otherwise stayed still.

"Good kitty. Sit up, then stand up." She obeyed, not as fluidly as she would have under her own direction, but without hesitation or confusion. It had been a lot of trial and error to find the right degree of trance and the right controls to get her into the state she wanted to be in. Obedient, out of her own control completely, but aware of what was happening.

"Remove your clothes. Leave your panties on." Again no hesitation. There had been a lot of that, the first time, But soon he had a mostly bare cat standing in a pool of fabric. She really was a beautiful thing, a good hourglass figure, pert breasts, and one hell of a nice tail. Fluff on her neck and chest, downy and soft.

"Come to me, kneel." She stepped out of the clothes, took a few steps over to him, then settled on her knees, arms hanging limp at her sides. There was a little trail of drool curling down her chin. She wasn't paying attention to little things like that when she was under. He didn't mind, it just underscored that, for the moment, she was his mindlessly obedient little toy.

"Such a good kitty," he murmured, and cupped her chin in his hand, curling fingers under to scratch absently. With that grip he could move her head around easily, without any resistance from her. They'd worked hard on finding a place where she was just autonomous enough to not need constant direction and supervision, but pliant enough that he could do almost anything he wanted with her.

"Last time I think we were working on that gag reflex. Open wide, tongue out." It was a pretty nice arrangement. He was careful not to push her boundaries too hard, and in return, well, he had this willing and compliant doll.

He hadn't been sure whether he was going to enjoy having her like this, but something about the way she just obeyed and then later blushed as he recounted how she'd done certain things was very satisfying. So he wasn't going to turn down a good chance to get his rocks off, especially since doing so would make her a happier cat.

And her slack muzzle was a pretty nice place to stuff his dick, too. Maybe not quite as enticing as if she'd been an active participant, sucking him off, but the up side was a chance to just really have at her throat. He kept one hand curled under her chin, the other on the back of her head, braced between her ears, and just used her face like a sleeve. Coughing, gagging, but no struggle, no attempt to push him away.

There was a danger to it, and he had to keep close watch on her breathing. However fun it was to just use her like this, he was responsible for her safety, and that kept him from having quite as much fun as he might otherwise have had. Still, the tight throat and slick heat of her mouth were more than enough to bring him to climax, and the obvious, almost required, finish was to pull out and unload on her face and into her open mouth.

He left her like that, carefully helped her into a neutral, vacant kneel, and cleaned himself up a bit. By the time he started to count her out of her trance, bringing her back to awareness one small step at a time, he was back to neatly dressed, slacks all in order. She was still almost naked and splattered with cum, but that wasn't a bad look for her.

When she blinked aware, the very first thing she did was cough, grimace, and swallow. "Ugh did you have to make such a mess?"

"Well yeah. I mean, isn't the best use for an empty-headed doll to fill her head up with something? Got to admit, your gag reflex is pretty much knocked down, after a couple rounds to get the rhythm right. I'm kind of curious whether you'd be able to do that well while conscious."

Her ears turned red inside, then flatted back, and her tail twitched sharply.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to force you, or even coerce you. If I did that you'd stop coming back, and that would make both of us unhappy, wouldn't it?"

She nodded a little, and he grabbed the warm, damp cloth he'd set on the coffee table, to start dabbing the mess off her face. Awake and aware, she was a sweet, cute, flustered woman, which was a nice counterpoint to the sex toy she was when he had her under his spell.

*

"Good afternoon again, Rebecca. This is what, our six month anniversary, so to speak?" She nodded, and he grinned at the ease in that nod. Their weekday sessions had born a lot of fruit, she was much, much more relaxed and confident, socially.

Their weekend sessions had been fruitful as well, and that was what he was intending to celebrate.

"I apologize for shifting the schedule a little bit, but an opportunity has appeared that I think will be a great way to test out our progress. So, dinner first, we'll talk about it over some chicken parmesan, and if you're on board, there's a whole evening in front of us."

The meal went well, and while no wine passed either muzzle, both were in good spirits, and the little departure from their normal routine had been approved.

"You know the drill, good kitty. On your back, lean your head here, that's right. Now breathe." The routine had gotten very easy, with her consciously, deliberately sinking into the trance state with his guidance. She wasn't hesitant or resistant at all, even less so tonight. Clearly, she approved of what was going to happen. It was a big step, and he was going to stay hands off to supervise, make sure nothing went horribly wrong.

"And now you're awake, and empty. You have no thoughts, you are just a toy. If you are asked or directed to do something, or something is about to happen to you, that you would not ordinarily consent to, you will awaken and call your safeword. Stand up, good kitty. There we go. Now, take my hand, follow me." Out of his apartment, out to his car. He made sure she was comfortable and buckled properly. No sense being unsafe. The trip was short, just a few blocks to another parking garage, this one adjoining a rental venue, a bunch of meeting spaces and party rooms. One of which was waiting for them.

As were the half dozen gentlemen he'd discussed the idea with. None of them were unknown quantities, and he'd had Kuroko's help vetting them. All of them were safe, according to his company, and that was a tough background check to pass. But Rebecca didn't need to know that.

He stopped her in the hallway outside the room. "Clothes off, kitty. Very good." She needed a little help with undressing, which was expected with such a complicated set of motions. "Remember your safeword now." He waited, but as he expected, she didn't respond, no sign that she had even registered his words. He opened the door, and took a shoulder in each hand, guiding her into the dim room. A half dozen toothy grins greeted her. "Alright gentlemen, and I use the term in hope you'll render it ironic, have your way with her."

Several of them laughed, but all of them were already eager. He couldn't blame them, Rebecca was a gorgeous cat, and for the moment she was still pristine, lovely white and fluffy tail, and eyes glazed and empty. He was a little disappointed he wouldn't be partaking tonight, but someone had to watch and keep her safe.

Safe was a relative term, as one of the first things that happened was the pair of wolves- Tim and Robert, married but pretty open to having a third, or more, every now and then- each took a side, front and back, and took a good grip with jaws. Tim had the back of her neck, Robert her throat, and the lack of reaction from her was surprising. They disengaged, and Tim looked over.

"She's really out, ain't she?" Richard nodded. "Usually that combo makes someone shudder and squirm, but she didn't even flinch." The two wolves looked at each other, some intimate communication, voiceless, but they didn't really need words to understand each other. The synchronized nods and growing grins told the story.

They weren't gentle with her, she was going to be sore, with bitemarks on her breasts, neck, shoulders. They used teeth for leverage while they fucked her, stuffing both holes with wolf cock, bouncing her until first one, then the other, knot popped in, and they were able to empty into her.

As soon as they were able to pull out of her, leving her to drip cum down her thighs, they passed her off to Cullen, the Palomino. Who put her gag reflex to the test, feeding her every inch of cock while he stroked her throat with one hand, and kept the other tangled in her hair. Just using her head like a masturbation sleeve, quick pumps until he could pull back, use a hand to keep her mouth wide and the other to aim, and pour thick jets into her open maw and all over her face.

Again and again, passed around from male to male like a bottle of booze at a frat party, more and more a mess with every minute. He made sure to take pictures often. She'd want those, and, if he was free to admit the tent in his trousers, so did he.

Four hours, maybe more, had passed before everyone was thoroughly sated, empty, and ready to be done. About as he'd expected, though it had taken longer to get there. They each individually, or, in the case of the wolves, as a pair, posed for a picture with Rebecca. He thought the piar was the most amusing, since they managed an angle that let them each lay a cock against her cheek. And then they all cleaned up, got dressed, and went on their way.

Conrad was left with his empty-headed, cum-filled and cream-frosted cat. And an erection that had been aching for several hours. Given those things, there was an obvious course of action, and he slipped his pants open to get his dick out where it could breath, and moved her, manipulated her to bend over a couch. She was still slick with plenty of fluids, and there wasn't need for any lube at all as he slid into her ass. She was really going to be sore the next day, but it was sunday, and he'd laid out preaparations back at his place.

The tightness in her behind was delightful, and he buried himself there, over and over until his knot swelled, until it caught, until he was able to relieve all that pent up pressure, emptying himself into her. The euphoric haze afterward gave him time to consider the next move. He hadn't decided whether to wake her up here, or after they were back at his place. Alast minute idea blossomed, and that settled his answer perfectly.

***

"There, all set. I'm going to count back from ten, good kitty. On ten you will be fully aware and fully in control of yourself. Ten, nine, eight," he gave one last glance over while he counted, making sure of his preparations. "One."

The blinking and confused moment of realization and memory came, and with it a rush of expressions and thoughts as she abruptly had to face the last several hours of debauchery. And still soaked and caked in the results of it, she was going to need quite a bit of bathing to be clean and fluffy again.

For now, though, there was one detail that he was waiting for her to notice. And when she did, it was abrupt and sudden, a hand on her throat and wide eyes. "Don't worry, kitty. It's not locked on, and it'll come off if you say so, but I wanted you to feel it before I ask the questions. You enjoyed tonight?"

The hesitation was hard, but she nodded after a moment.

"Do you want to do something like it again?"

Another slow nod.

"Do you want to keep my collar on? Understanding what it means to say yes, that you'll be my plaything whether you're awake or under a trance? That I will, and I promise fully to, take care of you, keep you happy and satisfied?"

He waited as she thought it over, and he grinned big when she nodded again.

"Good kitty. Let's get you cleaned up, and I'll bet there's plenty of aches that need some attention. Come on."