Humbled (Futadom, Futa on male, Non-con, BDSM, Size, Muscle, Seduction, Humiliation)

Story by James Bondage

A sect of Futanari sex therapists reserve their most intense treatments for womanizers and arrogant men.

https://i.postimg.cc/GhyRDjJx/Humbled.png

Humbled

“Very interesting” Jasmine muttered sarcastically as her pen sailed across the page. Normally she'd be taking notes, but that was no longer necessary with her current client. She had this young man figured out. In cases like his, she would often doodle while the subject was under hypnosis. Her questions would occasionally spark a new point of interest, but at this stage, they mostly confirmed her suspicions.

She knew exactly what treatment he needed. Now it was just a matter of talking him into it. Sometimes, it helped to visualize these things; to create a portrait of the future you would make manifest. Her pen came to a stop as she completed her drawing. It was a crude representation of the alternative therapy she would conduct with the cock-sure client resting comfortably on her couch, if all went according to plan.

“Alright, Trevor. I think we're done for now. I'm going to count to three and snap my fingers. When I snap my fingers, you will re-emerge feeling completely refreshed. Ready? One. Two. Three.”

*snap*

Trevor's light gray eyes opened. He stared at the ceiling as his mental fogginess cleared. It felt like he'd been sleeping for days. It wasn't sleep in the traditional sense, of course, but he felt well rested. He sat up and turned, his feet finding the floor. Trevor ran a hand through his short, blonde locks. When he looked up, the gorgeous therapist with the gleaming glasses and luscious black hair was smiling at him.

“How long was I out?”

“Quite a while. We're almost out of time.”

“Did you learn what you needed to?”

“Oh, yes. I'd say we're done with hypnotherapy for now.”

“Good, because I'm not paying a hundred bucks to take another nap.”

That wasn't fair. She'd done more than just the hypno stuff. Still, he was starting to question why he continued coming here. She wasn't even a licensed therapist. Her business card read: Sex Therapist & Relationship Counselor, but the only credential on her wall was a bachelor's in psychology.

A month ago, her advertisement had called out to him like a shining beacon in the night. It came along at just the right time in his life. A picture of her, one hand on her hip and the other lowering her rimmed glasses down her nose while she stared at the reader. 'Relationship trouble? Can't find a match? Be man enough to admit you need the help of a woman.'

From the bullet points listed below that opener Trevor got the impression she specialized in treating long time loners, incels, guys who'd fallen into pick-up artist culture and other clueless dorks. He wasn't a member of any of those groups, but something about her had grabbed Trevor. Maybe it was her eyes; dark orbs brimming with confidence that spoke wordlessly: 'Only I can help you.'

And that wasn't her only impressive feature. Jasmine had the body of an Olympic athlete and a beauty mark to go with it. Her tight suit-coat and heavy skirt couldn't hide the muscle in her arms and thighs. Yet her skin was flawless and her features purely feminine. Her black hair flowed in sultry waves that extended well down past her shoulders.

No wonder Trevor was going to therapy for the first time in his life. If reeling guys in with sex appeal was her shtick, she probably had lots of clients. It seemed to have worked on him. That, combined with Trevor's long dry spell, is why he found himself on Ms. Jasmine Walker's couch for the third time.

“You've been patient up to this point, and I appreciate that” she replied, ignoring his petulance. “I assure you, we're going to do something more concrete next. Although, it's going to cost more than a hundred if you want my most effective treatment.”

“More?!?” he asked incredulously. “What kind of treatment are we talking about?”

The counselor chuckled as she flipped her notepad closed and set it aside. Jasmine brought the tip of her pen to her mouth and bit on it as she studied Trevor up and down.

His simple t-shirt and jeans betrayed a lack of fashion sense, but he was handsome enough. Trevor was fit and his figure filled out his clothes nicely. He would've done fine with the ladies if he wasn't such a typical dude-bro. Unfortunately, her trips into his psyche had revealed he was lacking in several areas other than fashion. Chief among them were empathy, communication and a modern understanding of the fairer sex.

Trevor had some outdated notions about relationships. This had resulted in disaster with his previous girlfriends. Without Jasmine's help, his kind were doomed in the new world. She would have to be strict with him. It would all b

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