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Message-ID: <61694asstr$1321060201@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Sterling Smith <sterling27@live.com>
Importance: Normal
Subject: {ASSM} Come In My Brain (Part 1 of 2) (MF Mf Mg cons het ESP harem preg first)
Lines: 1191
Date: Fri, 11 Nov 2011 20:10:01 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d



Author: Sterling
Title: Come In My Brain (Part 1 of 2)
Summary: Dr. Monroe wants unresponsive patients to be able to
transmit their thoughts, but instead they transmit their
pleasure. Next, when a therapist transmits sexual pleasure, it's
a miracle cure for depression. And then he retires and collects
every form of feminine company that suits his fancy: a harem,
little girls cavorting at their whim on the other side of a
one-way mirror, and a steady stream of women dying to be
impregnated. All the females experience his every pleasure as
their own.
Codes: MF Mf Mg cons het ESP harem preg first
 
NOTICE:  This story contains explicit sex.

First posted 1/29/2011.

I'm always eager for comments, whether good, bad or mixed.
Comments to sterling27@live.com.

I have written many other stories and they can all be found at
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sterling/

You are welcome to copy this story if you include the entire text
unchanged, including this notice.  If you tell me where you have
re-posted it, I can enjoy knowing it is appreciated and perhaps
enjoy the feedback the story gets where you re-post it.

Sterling

And now, our feature presentation.  Enjoy!

=================================================================
=
Come In My Brain
 
 =============================================
Phase I: Terminal

Doctor Alan Monroe sat behind his desk and looked at Mr. and Mrs.
Smith.
 
"I know how hard it must be to accept the news about your son,
and there are no words I have that will match the grief you must
feel."
 
Three days before the tests had removed the last doubt: the brain
cancer was spreading. Their son had at most weeks to live. The
doctor paused to see how the parents were reacting. If they
seemed very upset or angry, then there was no point in going
further. However, they both nodded.
 
"Sometimes what helps a terminal patient feel better is to feel
useful, to feel that his experience can help others. Your son is
a prime candidate for an experiment I would like to try.
 
"Your son is one of a great many patients who can't communicate
their thoughts or desires, and that is upsetting to the patient
and their families. I am trying to come up with a procedure so we
can tap the patient's thoughts directly when they can't
communicate through any of the normal channels.
 
"This involves a surgical procedure where we would implant
electrodes in your son's brain. Then a volunteer would wear a
headset attached to those electrodes, and we would see if the
volunteer could receive any thoughts.
 
"This won't do anything to extend your son's life. In fact, there
is some risk associated with the surgery. The hope is that
someday this could help other patients to communicate. Any
thoughts?"
 
The husband and wife looked at each other. Mr. Smith then said,
"It sounds good to me. I think Carl would want to help others."
 
Mrs. Smith said, "You say it might actually shorten his life?"
 
"It's possible, but he doesn't have long anyway."
 
"And would he feel pain, with electricity in his brain?"
 
"Ah, yes, good question. These electrodes are used for measuring
what's going on in his brain, not changing it. So there would be
no current going into his brain. We're just listening in."
 
They looked at each other, and Mrs. Smith shrugged her shoulders.
 
"Let us think about it overnight," said Mr. Smith.
 
It took them two nights to think it over, but they agreed.
 
-----------------
 
Dr. Monroe checked to see that the "halo" that received the
electromagnetic patterns was securely seated on Meredith's head.
Med students were encouraged to volunteer as research subjects as
part of their education, and Meredith was the fourth to try to
receive signals from Carl's brain. The first three hadn't been
able to detect anything.
 
Carl Smith was paralyzed except for his eyes. They moved, and the
doctors had determined that he did have thoughts. He could answer
simple questions by looking to the right for "yes", and up for
"no", at least some of the time. As best they could tell, he had
consented to the surgery after having it explained to him.
 
For the present purposes, what mattered was that he could tell
what number, color or shape he was looking at.
 
He sat propped up on his hospital bed, wires coming out of his
shaved skull to a machine beside the bed. At the foot of his bed
was the chair where Meredith sat facing him, wearing the halo
which received its signals by radio.
 
"Now, Meredith, I will give you two choices. Tell me which one
you think Carl is looking at." A monitor was in front of Carl so
he could see it but Meredith could not. It was slightly to the
side, so he could also see Meredith.
 
"Red or green".
 
"Umm, I have no idea."
 
"Just guess -- sometimes the effects are subtle."
 
"OK, red."
 
The square on the monitor was green.
 
He changed the image. "Once again?"
 
"Green."
 
The square on the monitor was green.
 
"Square, or circle?"
 
"Gee, I don't know. Circle, I guess." It was a square.
 
On and on the test went. Meredith got just about half of the
answers right, exactly what you would expect by chance alone.
 
"One line, or two?"
 
Meredith didn't answer.
 
Dr. Monroe looked up to see her shifting in her seat.
 
"Meredith?"
 
"Oh, um, two."
 
The next picture came up on Carl's screen. "Again, one line or
two?"
 
When she didn't answer again, he looked up to see Meredith's legs
apart. She was wearing black nylons under a gray skirt, and in
her current position both he and Carl had an unobstructed view
right up to her white panties. Meredith was an attractive young
woman, her dark hair held back with barrettes. Her breasts
beneath her white blouse were of an average size, and she was
slim. Her face was really quite beautiful, Dr. Monroe thought,
featuring big brown eyes and an elegant ski-jump nose.
 
Meredith looked at the doctor, then restored her feminine decorum
by putting her legs together again and smoothing her skirt down.
 
"Oh, um, one."
 
But she stared at Carl as she opened her legs again and pulled
her skirt halfway up her thighs, then her eyes went wide.
 
"Oh, I'm sorry, this is quite distracting," she said and blushed,
pulling her skirt down once more.
 
"Can you tell me what you are experiencing?" Dr. Monroe asked.
 
"It's kind of embarrassing."
 
Dr. Monroe took a deep breath. "I noticed you had your legs apart
before, which didn't seem like what young women usually do -- "
 
"Oh, I'm sorry," Meredith said, blushing.
 
"Well," said Dr. Monroe, smiling. "I doubt Carl minded, and I
certainly didn't," he said, "but anything unusual you are
experiencing under these circumstances is of great interest."
 
"Oh, um, could I have a word with you in the hall?"
 
There were still a dozen more questions for her to answer, but
the results to that point were not in the least bit promising,
and this seemed more important.
 
Dr. Monroe showed Meredith out through one anteroom into a second
beyond. Meredith blushed and looked down to the side. "I was
getting something from him, I think, but nothing about squares or
red and green. I think he felt some, um, sexual excitement when I
was being less than modest."
 
"Oh," said Dr. Monroe, trying not to laugh at this fanciful idea.
He wondered if this young woman was especially frustrated
sexually. "That is surprising. How do you know?"
 
" I'd rather not say." She straightened and looked at the doctor.
"But we want our patients to be open about sexual matters so we
can treat them properly, right?"
 
"Of course."
 
"So if my sexual reactions are relevant to science...?"
 
"Yes, then it would be very helpful to hear them."
 
She looked to the side as she spoke. "The reason I think I was
getting his sexual arousal is that *I* felt sexual arousal when I
did those things, and I assure you I wouldn't ordinarily feel
that way. Am I correct in thinking that a man might feel arousal
from looking up a woman's skirts?"
 
"Well, I can't speak for all men," said the doctor, looking away.
He was trying hard to maintain a professional demeanor, "but my
understanding is that would often be true." He paused, then
decided to make her a little more comfortable by revealing a tiny
bit about himself. "It often is for me."
 
When he looked up he realized she had been teasing him. She gave
him a sweet smile and continued. "Could I try some more, um,
experiments?"
 
"OK," he said, unsure what to expect.
 
Back in the room, she sat in the chair again without the halo on
and opened her legs, then lifted her skirt, and said, "Nothing."
 
With the halo back on, she repeated those procedures and gave a
little moan.
 
She looked at the doctor. "Could I do some more experiments, just
the two of us?" she asked.
 
"Protocol doesn't allow me to leave you alone with a research
patient," he said, feeling confused.
 
Her eyes fixed on Carl, she thrust her chest out and ran her
hands over her breasts, moaning again.
 
"Meredith," he said, uncertain. "This isn't at all professional
behavior!"
 
"Oh, doctor," she said, looking at Carl hungrily. "It could be an
important discovery, right? Why don't you just leave us alone in
here?"
 
This was crazy, he thought. The medical school could have his
head if this got out. On the other hand, if she was somehow
getting sexual thoughts from the patient, that was extraordinary.
Whatever unseemly activities Meredith engaged in, Carl wasn't
going to tell, and Meredith would have many reasons not to
advertise it either.
 
"Um, OK," he said, retreating to the anteroom.
 
There was a video recording everything that went on in the room,
and he immediately started watching in fascination.
 
Meredith unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor before
peeling off her nylons and panties.
 
He could just barely make out on the sound feed, "Oh, my God,"
she moaned. "You really like this!"
 
With a few deft motions she removed the sheet and pushed Carl's
johnny up to reveal his genitals. His penis was largely erect,
and with a few deft strokes of her hand it became fully hard.
 
"Oh!" she gasped. And with that, she knelt above him, guided his
cock to her pussy, and plunged down on him. Dr. Monroe's mouth
dropped open in shock.
 
"Oh, my God, oh no, oh God, Oh!" Meredith gushed, trying to keep
her voice down. From her sudden relaxation, it appeared she had
just experienced an orgasm.
 
She lifted off of the paralyzed patient and sat on the bed next
to Carl. Seeming to come back from a faraway place, she looked
around. "Oh, shit," she said, suddenly seeing the video camera.
She turned her nakedness away from the lens.
 
The doctor could only imagine the thoughts going through her
head. A video had just been made of her raping a paralyzed
teenage boy.
 
The boy's cock was softening gradually, and a fresh little pearl
of semen appeared at the tip.
 
The doctor was amused to see her remove the halo, get dressed in
record time and look around frantically for wipes to clean up the
evidence on Carl's penis, then close up his johnny and put the
sheet back on him.
 
She pulled the halo off, then seemed to pause a moment before
opening the door.
 
"Um," she said as she emerged. "That video camera wasn't on, was
it?"
 
"Yes," he said, "and I was watching." At that point he couldn't
maintain his composure completely and laughed, shaking his head.
 
"Oh, no," she moaned plaintively. "Oh no, oh no," and started to
leave, bright red.
 
"Don't go anywhere, Meredith," said the doctor. "Don't panic. I'm
not going to tell anyone."
 
"You won't?" she asked, looking up at him with hope.
 
"No, and I'll hide that video file in a safe place. Look, we
share a little secret. We both have a strong incentive not to
tell anyone else what happened in that room. For me to allow what
just happened would put my reputation in serious jeopardy."
 
"Talk about *your* reputation!" she said miserably.
 
"Listen," he said, trying to ease the tension with some openness.
"I've seen sexual intercourse before -- even participated in it
now and then! I know what the naked female body looks like, and
yours looks just fine and not that different from any other. Your
sexual response was, well, what I would expect, though perhaps --
unusually strong."
 
She nodded and looked down.
 
"Now, ordinarily, no woman would ever initiate sex with a
patient, especially a paralyzed one, and especially not in a
hospital research room where you might have expected a video. The
question is what made you do it."
 
"I could just feel his pleasure and his hunger. Or actually, it
was my pleasure and hunger, but it came from him -- it must have,
right?"
 
"OK, but ordinarily, even if you saw a guy who was really totally
hot, and he was looking you up and down and licking his chops,
you still wouldn't spread your legs for him in a hospital room,
right?"
 
"No, of course not!" she said. "But this was different, it was
compelling in a different way." Her eyes got a faraway look. "The
idea that I could do something to make him feel even better -- it
was irresistible."
 
"Because he's paralyzed and you sympathize with his plight?"
 
"No, just because... it was irresistible."
 
She looked at him. "This is research, right? I can't believe I'm
saying this, but... would you like me to do it again?"
 
"Oh, let me think..."
 
She looked at him and whispered, "Would you *let* me do it
again?"
 
Her attraction must be strong indeed! "Oh," he said. It *was* a
potentially unique opportunity. Ground-breaking.
 
Then he said, partly to himself, "Think Kinsey. Think Masters and
Johnson." He felt excitement and a little bulge in his pants as
he asked, "Can I watch?"
 
"No!"
 
"I will only permit you to repeat the experiment if I can be
present."
 
She looked longingly at the door, then at the doctor. "Can we
turn the video off?"
 
"Oh, yes, of course!" he said. He certainly didn't want any
evidence of him watching this encounter.
 
She bit her lip. "It's science, right?" she said.
 
Meredith put the halo on at the foot of the bed and a dreamy
smile came over her face. She undressed completely and exposed
Carl's lower parts fully. His penis was erect again.
 
"Let me try some different things," she said.
 
She stroked his penis with her hand. "He likes that." She played
with her breasts. "That too." She reached down and took his penis
in her mouth. "Ooo, he really likes that."
 
She slid her hands around on her breasts and sighed. She took
some deep breaths as she slid her hand up her thigh to her
crotch.
 
"What about you?" she asked.
 
"Me?"
 
"Well, it's science, right? What about homosexual activity?"
 
"Ummm, OK." Dr. Monroe approached the boy and touched the boy's
penis. He had never touched another male's erect organ before. He
stroked up and down tentatively.
 
"No, nothing from that," she reported. "What about oral?" she
asked.
 
"Ummm," he said, making a face.
 
She gave him a teasing smile. "For the sake of science!"
 
"Uh, let's see," he said, gulping with revulsion. "But he *was* a
doctor -- a scientist."
 
"What about showing him what you've got in *your* pants?" she
asked, smiling at the bulge that marked his erection. "Well,
hearing us talk about this didn't make him feel excited, so I
guess you're off the hook." She giggled.
 
Dr. Monroe breathed a sigh of relief.
 
Meredith looked at Carl and spread her pussy lips a little.
"Would you like to do it again, Carl?" she asked.
 
"Yes," she told Dr. Monroe. "That's what he really wants."
 
"I want it too, Carl!" she said. "I really do!"
 
"Just a second," she said, getting into position above him,
preparing to impale herself once more.
 
"There, oh, there!" she moaned, lowering herself slowly onto him.
"You love that, don't you? I love it too, it feels so good! Now
let me go up and down a little."
 
Dr. Monroe watched as the med student humped herself up and down
on the boy's penis.
 
"I can't believe how good it feels," she whispered. She went a
little faster up and down. "Oh yes, you want it faster, right?
Oh, I bet you want to come in me again, don't you? Oh wow! You
want to fuck me?"
 
She turned to the doctor, "He loves it when I talk like that."
 
"OK, Carl, fuck my cunt, let me feel you deep. Oohhhh. Shoot me
full of cum, Carl, OK? Ooohhh! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" There
was a pause. "Aaaahhhhh!" she screamed, shuddering for several
seconds, then lifted herself off the boy and sat beside him on
the bed.
 
"Oh, doctor," she said. "I don't usually talk like that. It's not
that I like it, but I thought he might, and he really did! So I
did more of it, and I can't tell you how much he liked it. And
then of course his orgasm is the best of all. It's way stronger
than any orgasm I've ever felt. This is so amazing, doctor."
 
Dr. Monroe noticed that she was remarkably calm sitting naked in
front of the doctor, showing no sign of embarrassment. It had him
hard. Carl's cock lay flaccid.
 
He had an idea for another scientific experiment. "Say, I wonder
how he would feel about voyeurism."
 
"What do you mean?"
 
"Well, like watching two other people do it."
 
"Oh, and what two people do you have in mind?" she asked, looking
him up and down. "Trying to get into my pants in the name of
science, eh? That is sexual harassment!"
 
"Well," he said, "I suppose you would have to tell them the
entire context in which this occurred."
 
She stuck her tongue out at him. Then she stopped and looked at
Carl. "He likes the idea," she said, then continued,
mischievously, "and aren't you the lucky doctor, getting to screw
your student because science requires it."
 
"You are very sexy," he said earnestly, and stripped from the
waist down, then stood looking at her.
 
"Aren't you going to strip all the way?" she asked.
 
"Carl," he said, "do you like the idea of my keeping my shirt
on?"
 
Meredith looked at him and sighed. "*He* likes the idea."
 
Meredith bent Carl's legs to the side to make room at the bottom
of the bed and lay back crossways.
 
The doctor had an evil little thought. "What would Carl think of
doing it doggy style?" he asked.
 
Meredith sighed again. "He likes that idea very much, you nasty
man!"
 
The doctor just grinned.
 
The bed was too small for that position, so they looked around.
"What about over the back of that chair?" he asked, referring to
an armchair in the corner.
 
"Talk about demeaning! But he likes the idea," she said. "I guess
you men all think alike."
 
Meredith presented her nice cute little ass, and Dr. Monroe
eagerly slid up behind her and eased his hard shaft up her pussy.
It was hot and tight and he was in heaven. He held her hips as he
mated with the girl. On a whim he slapped her thigh lightly with
his left hand.
 
"Hey!" she said, turning back to glare at him. But then she said,
"Oooh, he really likes that, do it again."
 
So the doctor did, thrusting and slapping. "Harder!" Meredith
said, and he slapped harder, pumping deeper for good measure.
 
His orgasm was upon him, and he stopped slapping, grabbed the
girl's hips tightly, and after some last frantic thrusts buried
his cock to ejaculate his sperm deep inside.
 
As they caught their breaths, Meredith said, "That was
interesting. He felt excited by it, but of course he wasn't
feeling direct pleasure from his own penis."
 
"Interesting," said the doctor, with a grin on his face.
 
"Oh, look, he's asleep," said Meredith.
 
The two did a thorough job of cleaning up all traces of their
deviation from the research protocol.
 
"Come see me tomorrow," he said. "We're onto something
potentially huge, and I can't talk about it with anyone else."
 
Meredith nodded.
 
-----------------------------------
 
That night Carl died.
 
"Do you think it killed him?" she asked the next morning.
 
"I don't know, but we would only have expected him to live
another week or two at most."
 
"Oh, I feel kind of guilty."
 
"I wouldn't if I were you."
 
"But he might have lived --"
 
"Think about it this way. His quality of life was pretty
miserable. And here this lovely young woman initiates sex with
him. Twice! He was probably a virgin. It's every teenage boy's
dream. And she's crazy about it -- obviously not doing him a
favor or anything. I imagine he died very happy."
 
"Well, OK," she said.
 
"I've been thinking about this," he said. "This is potentially a
huge discovery. I need to try it with more patients. But I can't
change the research description. Imagine, 'Subjects wanted to see
if a terminal patient can induce them to go berserk with sexual
desire'."
 
Meredith laughed.
 
"Even phrased in scientific jargon, getting that sort of thing
approved with the research ethics committee would take forever if
it could be done at all. What I'd like to do, if you are at all
willing, is to have you try this, ahem, 'experiment' with the
next patient too."
 
"I am not going to have sex with anyone else!"
 
"Fine. But you can see if you get any of the same sensations or
inclinations."
 
"With you watching?"
 
"That's up to you."
 
"Maybe," she said, thoughtful.
 
"This could be huge. And some day, your role in it could be known
if you want it to be. You could be famous."
 
"That's not the kind of fame I want!"
 
"It still could be a huge help to humanity."
 
Meredith paused a moment. "Kind of like 'Make a Wish'? Get laid
on your deathbed?"
 
Dr. Monroe smiled, but he had grander ideas in mind.
 
------------------------
 
Meredith didn't impale herself on the next couple patients, but
she did report similar feelings as she exposed herself. They were
older men and might have had weaker sex drives. With the fourth
she smiled and said, "Here goes!" She humped away on that fellow
too and screeched as she experienced his orgasm.
 
Dr. Monroe put the halo on himself, and got perhaps a glimmer of
something with a female patient, but she was older. He wasn't bad
looking, but wasn't one of those distinguished older fellows. In
any case, women don't get turned on by visual stimuli so easily.
 
 
=============================================
Phase II: Depressed

The doctor considered what his discovery might mean. As Meredith
had said, it could be part of a "Make a Wish" program, allowing
terminal patients to experience joy as volunteers happily helped
them live out their sexual fantasies.
 
But there was the other side to it -- benefit to the recipient,
not the sender.  Meredith had reported that the transmissions
from Carl gave her a good feeling surpassing any orgasm she had
ever felt. What effect could that have on people beyond just a
good feeling?
 
It could be a form of sexual therapy. Women who didn't experience
orgasms from sexual stimulation might get something even better
-- maybe it would open up their natural responses.
 
But as he thought about it, the potential was wider. What effect
could a super-orgasm have on people with other ailments? What
about something as basic as depression? Even if it helped a small
fraction, it could be a huge business. He filed a patent.
 
If the effect was for the benefit of the recipient, the donor
should be a healthy person in the prime of life. Ethics
committees would have trouble approving risky surgery for a
healthy person. He needed someone dedicated to the project. Dr.
Monroe thought of himself. He had the electrodes implanted by an
excellent neurosurgeon colleague of his in Russia, where ethical
concerns were not as much of an issue.
 
He smiled as he considered the potential side benefits to his
experiment.
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------
-----
 
Jenny slumped in the ward's lounge, looking at nothing in
particular. Other patients shuffled around, mumbled to
themselves, or just paced. Many just sat, like her.
 
She was 23 and a hopeless case. Treatment-resistant depression.
She had been tried on twenty-odd different medications. They had
zapped her brain with ECT. None of it did any good. She had tried
to kill herself three times, and the last time had come pretty
close. She mused about how she could really pull it off the next
time they let her out.
 
Time for her case conference. Every Thursday at 2:30. After the
usual drivel about her diet and physical condition and mental
assessment and how well she did with the OT (pathetic "play" for
grown-ups), there was something new. Her psychiatrist Dr.
Bernstein said a colleague wanted to meet with the two of them
privately.
 
"Hello, Jennifer, I hope you are no worse than usual today?"
asked Dr. Bernstein. She had to hand it to him: at least he
didn't say, "How are you feeling today, Jennifer?" with a loud,
cheery voice. She was tempted to answer that kind of question
with, "Life sucks, I feel awful, and fuck you too!" So Dr.
Bernstein gave her an iota of respect by recognizing her basic
condition.
 
"Jenny, this is Dr. Green."
 
"Hi, Ms. Jones," said the new doctor, a middle-aged woman. "You
can call me Cathy. What should I call you?"
 
Jenny looked at her dully. Oh, she was going to be Respected. She
felt better already, ha ha. "Jenny is fine," she said.
 
Dr. Bernstein said, "Jenny, you know we have tried every
treatment we can think of for your depression, and that means you
are eligible for experimental treatments as well. You have tried
a couple."
 
Yeah, that one that made her pee her pants and nearly vomit when
she turned her head sharply to the left; that one had been fun!
 
"Dr. Green is going to describe a new opportunity."
 
"Jenny, this one is very strange. I won't pussyfoot around. It
has to do with sex."
 
That got her attention.
 
"Let me cut to the heart of the matter. There is a man, one Dr.
Monroe, who is wired to send signals from his brain to yours when
you wear a halo -- kind of like a hat with no center. We think
that when he feels pleasure, you will too. When he eats a piece
of chocolate cake, you will feel the pleasure he gets. Naturally
enough, the strongest pleasure we humans feel is sex. The hope is
that when you absorb sexual pleasure sensations from him, it
might help with your depression."
 
"What does he do, fuck me?" Jenny asked.
 
"If you decided that was what you really wanted to do, it is a
possibility at some point. The one rule that is very clear is
that you never do anything you don't want to. We were going to
start with such measures as him masturbating or having sex with a
different woman. "
 
"Oooo, do I get to watch him jerk off? Or watch him hump the
other chick?"
 
"That is also a possibility."
 
This was all so bizarre Jenny wondered what planet she was on
now.
 
"I realize this seems very unusual. Sex therapy for depression
has been tried and found ineffective. The new element here is the
transmission of his pleasure directly to your brain."
 
Like most kids, Jenny had experimented with sex. She had
masturbated as a young teen and learned about orgasms. She had
let a couple boys in high school fuck her, painful experiences
she preferred not to think about. Mark, in college, had been more
experienced. After a few times, she had gotten to understand how
it worked, understood how she could feel a little pleasure from
the fucking motion, in and out. He brought her to orgasms now and
then with his fingers.
 
"And what are the chances all this stuff will make me better?"
 
"We don't know. You would be one of the very first half dozen
volunteers. However, even if this didn't help you, or made you
worse, you might be contributing to a cure for others with your
condition."
 
"I don't give a shit about others with my condition," she said.
But she did, deep down. She cared a great deal about them -- and
about herself.
 
--------------------
 
The first time she never even saw the transmitting doctor. They
put a halo on her, and she did feel a little tingling when he ate
a square of chocolate. The technician adjusted a knob to increase
the strength of the signal until she described her pleasure as
she used to feel when she ate chocolate. She was then told that
he was masturbating in the next room, and she did feel a buzz in
her brain. It was more pleasure than she had felt in months. When
he came, it was a big rush. She felt her pussy get wet.
 
They escorted her back to the hospital and asked her about her
mood every ten minutes, or so it seemed. Within a few hours she
felt as bad as ever. After waiting three days, they were ready
for the next phase. She wore the halo for a morning and afternoon
session for three days in a row, and was told the good doctor was
engaging in sexual intercourse with a woman. The memory of his
orgasms seemed to perk her up and she felt pretty good while it
was going on, though she was reluctant to admit it. She had felt
little blips of happiness from a number of the drugs she had been
tried on, but they never lasted. Still, she dutifully reported
her improved mood -- it might help someone later. Just as she
feared, after the treatments stopped, she went right back to
feeling horrible.
 
-------------------
 
"I'm your local Martian," said the doctor when she first met him,
pointing to the electronics that stuck out of his head. It was no
worse than him wearing headphones, that was all -- not even that
bad.
 
"Here we are in this incredibly awkward situation. Sex is on the
table. We might have intercourse if you decided to go that far,
but maybe we'll just be doing stuff like masturbation -- or maybe
nothing at all." As he spoke he put the halo on her head and
seated it firmly. Then they sat on the love seat side by side.
The only other furniture in the room was a bed.
 
"Whatever," Jenny said. It was hard to be totally apathetic under
these circumstances, though.
 
"I should tell you, Jenny, that I think your are very
attractive."
 
She had looked in the mirror that morning. She knew people used
to say she was pretty, but at this point she looked just dull.
"Oh yeah, right," Jenny said. Another phony.
 
"I mean it. Yeah, I can see you've been feeling depressed, but I
can see underneath it too. And not just your face is attractive
-- you have a very sexy body, too."
 
Jenny had half a mind to walk out -- who was this guy who thought
he had the license to talk about her body? But of course, that
was exactly what she had given him license to do. That and other
sexy stuff. She could walk out, but she didn't want to. Maybe it
would help some other depressed people later.
 
She realized she had also felt a little glimmer when he said
that. He really did find her sexy -- or was it just that she felt
sexy from him telling her she was sexy? It was hard to tell.
 
"Jenny, could I touch your hair?" he asked quietly.
 
What was that surge she felt? She didn't mind his touching her
hair -- but now she also wanted him to touch it. She wanted him
to because she knew that when he did -- oooo, she felt sexy. She
saw him stealing glances at her breasts through her blouse. He
wanted to touch her there too, she knew it. She couldn't quite
believe that she guided his hand to her breast, and felt just the
way she thought she would -- felt his excitement at cupping and
stroking it.
 
Suddenly it struck her as alarming -- this was all too strange.
 
She broke away sharply and ran for the door. On the way out she
tossed off her halo -- and felt a big letdown. What was happening
to her?
 
Doctor Green was waiting in the anteroom.
 
"Hi, Jenny," said the woman doctor nonchalantly. "How's it
going?"
 
"Oh, shit!" said Jenny. "I don't know!"
 
"Want to say more?" she asked pleasantly.
 
Jenny shook her head.
 
"What we expect might happen is that you would feel Doctor
Monroe's sexual excitement for you. Is that part of it?"
 
Jenny nodded.
 
"The idea is that you can be as sexual with the doctor as you
both want -- though for his part I think we know that he finds
you very attractive.
 
"The doctor is certified free of STIs -- as are you. You will
also recall that your period is due in a couple days, so sexual
intercourse would be safe -- IF you decided you wanted to do
that."
 
"I don't know... I don't know... Can I go back to the hospital
and think about it?"
 
"Certainly you can," the doctor said. "Just wait here a few
minutes and I'll arrange an escort."
 
But it was less than a minute before Jenny said, "I think I've
changed my mind. Can I go back in?"
 
"Sure!"
 
As Jenny entered, the doctor was slumped on the sofa. He sat up
and brightened immediately.
 
"Jenny!" he said. "Nice to see you again."
 
Jenny stopped, uncertain what to say. Part of her was incensed.
"You want to fuck me, right? This halo is a trick to let you fuck
me."
 
"It's always up to you. I find you very attractive, Jenny, it's
true. I'll admit I was disappointed when you left, and if you
leave again I'll be disappointed again. The idea of having sex
with you is very appealing. But don't worry about me, I'll be
fine!
 
"Our hope is that having sex -- if you decide you want to do that
-- will not only be pleasurable for me, but that your pleasure
will be linked to what you do, and it might help you with your
depression."
 
"Nothing is going to help my depression!" Jenny said hotly.
 
"OK, it might let us learn things to help others." After a pause,
he said, "What have you got to lose? Your dignity, I suppose."
 
Jenny took a deep breath and put the halo back on and walked over
to him. She felt his desire for her -- felt it right inside her
head. When she touched her own breast, she felt his thrill. When
she slid her hand up the inside thigh of her jeans, she could
tell he was excited and wanted more. More to the point, so did
she!
 
She shed her clothes frantically. Jeans down, panties off. Every
item she removed made him more excited. Her blouse buttons took
so long to undo! Seconds! Her bra was off and she was naked
except for her socks. And she was right, his excitement surged as
he saw her naked.
 
He unbuckled his belt and his trousers and unzipped the fly. "Is
this OK?" he asked. "Me getting undressed?"
 
"Yes!" she said, lying on her back with legs spread. What a dumb
question! He stripped quickly, guided by his lust, and approached
her with hard erection ready to insert inside her.
 
He slid one hand to her pussy area and started caressing lightly.
But she could tell it wasn't exciting for him -- or not as
exciting as it could be.
 
"Forget that! In me! Now!" she pleaded.
 
He took no convincing, and in seconds he had mounted her, his
cock right at her pussy opening. She held him outside her for
just a second, and felt his excitement ebb. It was her choice!
She wanted to feel his excitement rise, and by pulling on his
hips instead of pushing, his cock surged inside her. She was
thrilled by the pleasure he felt upon first penetration.
 
"Oh, that's so nice!" she moaned.
 
"Oh, yeah, it's wonderful!" he answered.
 
"What's your name?" she asked breathlessly, realizing at some
level it was an odd time to ask.
 
"Alan," he said.
 
What would be even more exciting for him? Coming, of course!
 
"Come in me, please, Alan! As soon as you can, OK?"
 
"OK," he said. His thrusts increased in speed and depth. She had
never craved a penis like she did now.
 
She suspected he would like it if she hugged his back. But it
actually made him less excited, so she instantly stopped that.
 
She tried whispering in his ear, "Fuck me, Alan, fuck me harder!"
and that increased his excitement and pushed him to the edge of
orgasm. Jenny was awash in pleasure as never before. She felt his
penis swell, and then felt his ecstatic climax. Along with the
direct pleasure that was flooding her brain, she felt the
excitement of the sex act and knowing that it was *her* body that
had given him such exquisite pleasure.
 
He rolled off her, and naturally she felt his excitement fading.
The magic gone, she immediately wondered what she had done. She
stabilized her feelings by reminding herself that she had
participated in an experimental treatment for depression.
 
She sat up and felt his happiness drop. She tried lying down
again and snuggling against him, which made him happy.
 
But she was confused, not sure what she actually felt herself.
Hoping to have her own feelings back, she pulled off the halo.
 
Sunshine turned to clouds. On the one hand, she had her own
simple feelings back, and on the other she missed his
contentment. She put the halo back on for another ten minutes of
gentle warmth, but then she wanted to go.
 
She had felt happy after the previous experiments, but this time
she felt even better, and there was a different quality to it
somehow. Something beyond mere pleasure.
 
They wouldn't let her go back the next day, and then she felt she
had to wait a few days while she had her period.
 
When she did get back again, she ripped her clothes off -- no
finicky buttons this time! -- and devoured his cock with her
pussy as he lay on his back. But she sensed he wasn't as excited
as during their previous meeting, so she eagerly turned onto her
back and felt his extra joy at fucking her soundly in the
missionary position.
 
To test her control, she made him pull out and get off, and felt
his excitement plummet. But when after a few seconds she urged
him back inside, she was rewarded with the intense pleasure she
had hoped for.
 
They did it five days in a row, and she looked forward to it like
nothing else in her whole life. After their fifth session, he
told her as they dressed that they had something they needed to
discuss.
 
Any that further visits would be contingent on her making
progress putting her life back together. The staff at the
hospital would handle the details.
 
The social workers helped her arrange a place to stay and set up
goals for her personal hygiene, eating, laundry, exercise. After
three days she was rewarded with another fantastic bout of sex
with the good doctor.
 
After a month she had to wait a week between sexual bouts. But
something else happened. She wasn't just going through the
motions of living a normal life to get her reward. Her food
tasted good -- some of the time. She enjoyed exercising. Visits
with her little brother felt rewarding -- she was glad to hear
about his college exploits. He told her he knew she would get
better some day. Before she would have felt exasperated, knowing
inside that whatever improvement she felt would be temporary. But
this time she didn't mind, because she was hopeful too.
 
--------------------
 
"Hi, Alan," Jenny said brightly, as she walked in. She sat on the
couch with him but made no move to put the halo on.
 
"What is it?" he asked.
 
"I've found a boyfriend," she said. "I think he's really sweet. I
haven't told him about this therapy we've been engaged in, but I
have to. And I have to tell him the therapy's over, too."
 
She saw the doctor brush back a tear.
 
"Oh, Alan!" she said. "I'm sorry. You've got other girls to do,
don't you?"
 
"Oh, of course," he said. "But you're not all the same, like
interchangeable parts. Did I ever tell you that you were the very
first one?"
 
"Me? The first?"
 
"Yeah. I don't know if you can imagine what it's like to be a guy
and have a gorgeous girl beg you to fuck her and come as fast as
he can. I'd never experienced that before."
 
"Yeah," she said, "I could imagine it could be cool. You're one
lucky duck, I say."
 
"Yeah, I can't complain," he said. "But you know, you've never
been just a 'fuck' to me. I've really been rooting for you. I
like you."
 
"That's so sweet," she said automatically. Studying his face, she
said, "I believe you."
 
"Have you had sex with this boyfriend yet? It's none of my
business, of course."
 
"No, but I want to soon."
 
"Have you considered what happens when it's just normal sex? When
there isn't a halo blasting pleasure into your brain?"
 
"Yeah, I've thought about it. You've been turning the volume down
for a while, though, right?"
 
"Yeah."
 
The two were silent a moment.
 
"I was thinking, Alan."
 
"Yeah?"
 
"Maybe it's a dumb idea, but..."
 
"Go ahead."
 
"Would you like to do it once, just normal, with no halo?"
 
"I'd love that," Alan said. "If you're sure."
 
They didn't kiss -- they weren't quite that intimate. Jenny was
delighted when Alan dipped his head between her legs and started
licking -- something she would never have had the patience for
while wearing a halo. The sensations were also thrilling -- no
boy had ever done this with her before.
 
"No, stop, Alan, stop."
 
"What's wrong?"
 
"Nothing's wrong, it feels fantastic, it's just ... I don't want
Mark to have to live up to that standard -- not at the beginning,
anyway."
 
"Yeah, I can see that," Alan said.
 
So for her own pleasure Jenny took her turn on top, and with the
help of a little finger work from Alan, she had a normal female
orgasm from the pleasure felt by her own female parts. Then they
turned over, and Alan humped away. She enjoyed the sensations
herself, and inferred his pleasure from his sighs and moans, the
tension in his body and its release with a big, "Oh, Jenny!" That
was how a woman was supposed to experience a man's pleasure.
 
They said their goodbyes, both crying a little.
 
Things didn't work out with Mark, and Jenny was tempted to go
back to Alan when she felt blue. But she got through it and she
ended up married to Steve. He wasn't the love of her life,
exactly, but they built a solid, warm relationship. They had
agreed in advance not to have children, and Jenny's main reason
was that she didn't want to risk passing on any genetic component
to her severe depression.
 
She and Alan exchanged Christmas cards for years. She had been
headed for suicide, and thanks to Alan's therapy she was instead
living a normal life.
 
--------------------
 
The treatment was a stunning success. It turned out that
experiencing a man's pleasure relayed through a wall was never
effective. Sexual intercourse was required. It appeared that the
woman's control of the situation was vital -- one causal factor
in some depression is that the patient feels no control over her
life. With intercourse she could tell that it was *her* body that
gave him pleasure; little things she did could make him feel
better or worse. The fact that they were engaged in the most
intimate human experience may have helped too. Combined with
large doses of pleasure, it offered hope that human relationships
could be rewarding again.
 
Age was also a big factor. Effectiveness of the treatment dropped
dramatically through the 20s and it was a long shot at age 35.
Children come into the world with brains of great plasticity, but
it fades as they age.
 
Ninety percent of girls who went ahead and had sex with the
doctor had a marked temporary improvement. Sixty percent had a
sustained benefit that could be maintained with no more than one
follow-up treatment per month. Forty percent needed no follow-up.
Five percent had persistent difficulties separating themselves
from their therapist and engaged in some form of stalking
behavior.
 
There were limitations. The girl had to be truly attractive to
the therapist -- he couldn't fake his gut reaction. So naturally
the less attractive a girl (judged by a panel of independent
judges) the less likely the treatment was to be effective. This
opened a market opportunity for men with catholic tastes, put
crudely as "guys who will enthusiastically fuck anything".
 
Treatment was less effective for boys, because fewer women are
deep down delighted to have a strange boy fuck them. It was
important for the boy to have control and cause the woman's
orgasm, something they were often not skilled at, especially when
seriously depressed. Most could wield a vibrator fairly well, and
that helped some.
 
Gay and lesbian therapists filled the needs of gay and lesbian
youth.
 
There was a legal problem with younger patients.
Treatment-resistant depression doesn't magically appear at age 18
or even age 16. There are a great many 14- and 15-year-old girls
with severe depression. For them, the therapy was of course
illegal. Even with parental consent, doctors who did treat them
had to fight off some expensive lawsuits -- but to no one's
surprise only when the treatment had proven ineffective. If a
girl could find anyone to treat her, it was at a clinic that
catered to undocumented aliens, since documentation of age was no
more required than documentation of legal residence.

 
=================================================================
=

What did you think? This is only part 1 of 2, but I'm always eager for comments, whether
positive, negative or mixed. Comments to sterling27@live.com.


 		 	   		  
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