The office was on the first floor. The sign on the door; Doctor Rosenberg. The patient glanced at it before walking in and noticed the receptionist was a different woman to last week.
"Good morning. I'm here for my 10-o-clock appointment."
"Ah yes. Take a seat and I'll let the doctor know you are here."
Doctor Rosenberg knew this patient was the one; this was clear from the very first visit, but the experiment could not be rushed. It had to be done properly, over a decent period, to increase the chances of a successful outcome. The time for a major step forward was near; today in fact. The groundwork had been completed last week with the patient placed under hypnosis. Early signs were promising judging by the susceptibility to suggestion shown, even when not deeply under. A trigger phrase had also been planted to remove the need for repeated hypnosis.
"Would you like coffee?"
"Yes please, doctor."
That was a small problem out of the way. The drug, to help lower inhibitions, had to be administered and the coffee was a convenient method. It was only a mild dose; a complement to prior hypnosis and the beverage would mask any odd taste the patient may otherwise discern. But...
"Now, what did I tell you before about using first names?"
"Sorry, doctor... sorry... it's... I'm not used to such informality."
"Yes, I know. But remember... if we are to succeed with this, you must learn to relax more and be less formal with people."
While the drug was taking effect, the progress thus far was reviewed.
"... and finally, I need you to read and sign this."
"Another one? Didn't I sign one last week?"
"You must remember, this treatment is... experimental. My methods are somewhat unorthodox. It helps if there is a record of your agreement every step of the way."
"Well... okay. Here you are..."
"No... no... it is important that you actually read it. It is necessary for the treatment."
The document, read and signed... and containing the all important 'trigger' phrase... was filed in the case notes. The session could begin.
"Now then, Lucy. Come around to the side of the desk and let me look at you."
She stood and smoothed her skirt down; taking her place as directed. He looked her up and down, detecting a little apprehension as she felt his gaze upon her. She wore two inch heels and grey panty-hose or stockings; he couldn't tell. He'd find out soon enough, he knew. Her skirt was plain and matched her jacket, without quite being a business suit. Her hair was long and blonde; contrasting with the darkness of her jacket as the tresses nestled on her shoulders. He took in her appearance; quite business-like and yet, strangely sexy. He noticed her breasts heaving as she breathed nervously. Soon he would see them when he had her remove her clothing for him.
He reached out and touched her thigh. She pulled back a little, in surprise. "Lucy..." he began in admonishing tones. She stepped forward almost instantly, allowing his hand on her thigh again. It moved up, then down to the hem of her skirt, sliding underneath. Slowly, it inched upward and he became aware of her trembling slightly as his fingers found bare skin. Stockings! He felt his cock stirring.
His other hand moved under her skirt to her stocking-top and he spread his fingers out wide over her thighs, making circling movements over her skin. Not just stockings, he realised, but hold-ups too! His cock twitched in anticipation. She would look so good bending over the desk. Before he fucked her. It was good to be so in control of someone like this. But it was time for her to undress for him. "Take off your jacket, Lucy." He said it so flatly. There was no room for discussion and she found herself complying as she began unbuttoning for him.
She removed her jacket and he told her to put it over the back of her chair. Moving his chair around to the side of the desk, he told her to slip out of her skirt. He gasped when she did so. Her panties were minuscule; just a small patch at the front and a thin strip at the back. The top that looked so conventional when her jacket was done up was a flimsy garment with spaghetti straps and the material scarcely waist length. It rose up, revealing her midriff, as she shook her skirt before placing it alongside her jacket. He was stunned. How could this woman appear so prim and proper on the outside and look so gorgeous underneath? He had to see more; much more.
"Very good, Lucy. Now take off your top."
Again, the slight hesitancy. He gave her a steely look and she took hold of the material. "No... wait," he began. "I have a better idea. I shall remove it." He stood up and walked towards her. "Lift your arms up." She did so as he placed his hands on her sides. The top rode up once more, this time barely concealing her bra-covered breasts. He wondered what sort of bra she wore. Would it match her panties? It didn't really matter as it would be off soon. His hands moved up until his fingers found her bra and his thumbs ran over the cups. He could just about feel the presence of her nipples through the material and he rubbed. Lucy breathed in sharply and he could feel her nipples hardening.
Taking hold of the hem of her top, he slid it up, over and off. And there she stood, before him; in nothing but bra, panties, stockings and shoes. The bra didn't match. How could it? Her panties were practically non existent, but her bra had a job to do. Her breasts were quite large and needed the support her push-up bra gave. But he had her remove it and her breasts pushed out delightfully as her hands reached for the clasp.
The doctor was pleased with the way things were going; even if there were one or two surprises. The case notes would need to be written up with great care.