Timmy Titmus paused to read the sign on the office door. “Dr. Sigmung Samenschlag, Behavioral Therapist,” in big letters, and below that a list of services, including Personality Testing, Marriage Counseling, Addiction Counseling, and Employment Assessment.

This was definitely the place. It was conveniently only a five-minute walk from his office at Fappercon Headquarters in downtown Chicago.

Apprehensive but resolute, he pushed the door open and entered what appeared to be a reception area. There was a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table on his right, a closed door straight ahead, and to his left sat a pretty Asian woman at a broad reception desk.

“Mr. Tirmus?” Marci Yin inquired.

“Yes,” he replied, “I have an appointment? With Dr. Samenschlag?”

‘Oh, my!” thought Marci, ‘what a timid little fellow ... and so young!’ Used to making quick assessments, she knew immediately that her boss would enjoy this meeting. ‘He’s pretty cute, too,’ she noted.

To Timmy she replied, “Yes, Mr. Titmus. Please take a seat. I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.”

After only about two minutes, Marci got up and opened the inner door. “The doctor will see you now, Mr. Titmus.”

Timmy was caught off guard. He hadn’t expected the wait to be so short. Bright and naturally inquisitive, he had been taking in his surroundings, noting with some surprise the lack of any credentials - framed diplomas and certificates - that usually grace the walls of professional offices.

He had also been surreptitiously eyeing the pretty Ms. Yin, who had immediately piqued his interest with her unusual accent. Was it British? He especially noticed, as she walked to the door, the elegance of her shapely legs beneath her short, tight skirt, and the grace with which she moved her lithe, five-foot-one-inch frame.

“Oh! Thanks!” He fumbled to his feet and, blushing as he passed Marci, inescapably brushing her pert breasts lightly with his arm as she held the door for him. “Excuse me,” he mumbled.

“Come in, come in!” Dr. Samenschlag enthused warmly and, gesturing to the large upholstered chair opposite his desk, said, “Please have a seat.” He sat back down behind his big mahogany desk and picked up the folder in front of him as Timmy also sat down.

“I see we’re here for an assessment. I think you know that I am retained by Fappercon Industries to give my professional advice on candidate suitability for certain critical and highly sensitive roles?”

“Yes, sir.” Timmy nodded.

“And you have applied for the Assistant Manager position under Jack Batondure, correct?”

“Yes, doctor,” Timmy answered earnestly. “It’s really more of an assistant than a manager, though...” he went on unnecessarily, sounding a bit self conscious.

“Good, good,” Samenschlag responded, using his most reassuring tone. “Well, Timmy - may I call you Timmy?”

Timmy nodded.

“Thank you, Timmy. Before we begin the assessment, let’s take a moment to get relaxed so that our bodies and our minds are in a calm and integrated state.”

Sigmund Samenschlag’s lucrative practice was built on techniques he had developed over many years that rely on his unusually sonorous and expressive voice to produce a calm and receptive state in his clients.

Coaching Timmy through several rounds of deep breathing exercises using a precise sequence of repeated phrases, the doctor brought him quickly to the first level of his unique 3-phase trance system. Timmy was now completely relaxed, his inhibitions suppressed, and able to focus on the doctor’s every word.

“How are you feeling now, Timmy?”

“Good, doctor, that was very relaxing,” Timmy smiled, looking very young now and much more innocent.

“Excellent. Let’s begin.”

Having completed the set of standard questions, Dr. Samenschlag had learned most of what he needed to know about Timmy’s background.

The twenty-three-year-old had been the only child of a professional couple in Indianapolis. He had done well in school, but had never learned to fit in well with his classmates, being more comfortable in the company of adults, a common trait among only children.

He was well liked by his teachers, though, and had gone on to college in Illinois, earning a degree in business administration, after which he had been hired by Fappercon Industries as a customer service representative, and he had been in that position for just over a year.

He was unmarried and not currently in a relationship, having only dated two young women since moving to Chicago, both of whom had been introduced to him by coworkers at Fappercon. Neither of those relationships had lasted long.

His only long-lasting relationship had been during his junior year of college, more than two years before, when he had been involved for an entire semester with a twenty-six-year-old teaching assistant, a graduate student from Ukraine named Irina. That had ended when Irina completed her master’s degree and moved to California to pursue her PhD.

Samebschlag was now ready to ask more particular questions.

“Can you tell me why you applied for the Assistant Manager position?”

“I like to help people. That’s why I took the CSR position. But after a year doing that, I feel like I’m not really helping people much at all. Mostly I end up trying to make angry people less angry, but I can’t really help them the way I’d like to. So when I saw this posting, I thought assisting one person should be a lot more rewarding. You know, I could be more creative and actually do stuff to help. Pus it’s a step up into management, which is where I want to go anyway.”

“That’s interesting, Timmy, and actually a very good answer.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “It sounds like you’re alone a lot. How does that make you feel?”

“Oh, I’m used to it, doctor. I kind of like it.”

“When you and Irina were together, did you spend a lot of time apart?”

“No, we spent most of our time together. I even moved out of my dorm and stayed at her apartment most of the semester.”

“Don’t you miss that kind of intimacy? Was your relationship sexual?”

Thanks to the trusting trance-like state of Timmy’s psyche, he was able to say things now that he’d never spoken about to anyone.

“Oh yes. We had sex all the time. Irina was very imaginative. She made me do all kinds of things...”

“What kinds of things, Timmy?”

“Well, we fucked a lot, you know, normal sex, but she also made me lick her vagina a lot - she liked that - sometimes even after we had ... you know, after I came in her.”

‘How did that make you feel?”

“It was very exciting. I didn’t want to do it at first - it was gross and it smelled bad - but then she got real strict with me and said I had to or she would be very angry. That kind of turned me on - her being so bossy. And then, when I did do it, I got even more excited. I even came again when I was licking her.”

He smiled slyly. “That also happened when she made me lick her asshole. That’s something else she liked.”

“So you had a very active sex life that semester. Don’t you miss it?”

“Well, yes and no ... It was exciting, but also distracting - my grades definitely suffered that semester. It’s actually easier to focus on school and work without all that relationship stuff. And I can always masturbate.”

“Do you masturbate a lot, Timmy?”

“Not a lot. Usually only once a day.”

Samenschlag chuckled to himself at that. ‘Ah, to be young,’ he thought. Out loud he said, “What do you think about when you masturbate?”

“I think about Irina a lot, but also other women. There’s this older woman at work. Not everyone likes her. She’s one of the managers and I think a lot of people think she’s mean. But I like to think about her making me do things like Irina did. Stuff like that...”

“Is it always women, Timmy? Do you ever think about men in that way?”

“No, not really...” he trailed off with a look of concentration. “But I did have a dream ... just last night ... I almost forgot.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Sure. So ... in this dream, I had to go to my boss’s house ... Mr. Batondure’s. It was on a weekend, so that was strange ... and I was supposed to bring him some report that was super important or something. But I didn’t have the report and I was scared that I was in serious trouble.

“So, I’m at his house - in the backyard - and he’s having a big pool party and there are lots of people there enjoying themselves in and out of the pool. And there’s everyone from work there, and all the big executives and their wives and husbands and everyone seems to know that I don’t have my report...”

“How did that make you feel?”

“I was mortified! I just wanted to melt into the patio and disappear.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, that’s one of the funny things ... My boss is real friendly, smiling, acting like the report doesn’t matter, but I know it does. He tells me to join the party and take a swim. I say I don’t have a swim suit, but he insists. And then suddenly we’re in the house, just my boss and me. It looks like we’re in his bedroom ... and um ... well ... then it starts to get really weird...” Timmy faltered.

“Timmy, open your eyes and look at me. Let’s do our breathing exercise again, shall we?”

“Yes, doctor. I’m sorry ... I was so relaxed, like you said, but maybe it’s wearing off?”

“Perfectly natural, Timmy. You’re doing very well! Now just close your eyes again, take a deep breath, and listen to my voice ... breathe in ... breathe out ... feel yourself relaxing. Your body is floating ... you are weightless, nothing to hold you ... you’re free from all concerns, just you and my voice to guide you deeper into simplicity ... stripping away everything that is false and artificial. We can go down, down, into the real you where there is no fear, only peace and safety ... just you and my voice. In, out, in out. How are you feeling now, Timmy?”

“Much better. I feel so much more relaxed now.”

“Good boy, Timmy! Do you trust me, Timmy?”

“Yes, doctor, I feel like you’re almost a part of me.”