• Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Mind Control
  • /
  • Childbirth Hypnotherapy

Childbirth Hypnotherapy

123

I was feeling much better. I usually don't take sick days, I'm the kind of girl who shows up completely trashed sneezing and coughing, determined to make at least one coworker sick in exchange for a sick day. This one destroyed me. I couldn't move, I was shivering, the coughs actually hurt, the medicine did nothing. I was getting older. I was twenty-nine. I know, that's not old, but it's the little things at first, those tiny little things you don't notice, or at least that you shouldn't notice. Maybe it's all in my head. At this age I still have a great body, so nothing to worry about yet.

This was the last day for sure. The last remnants of my fever were withering away, probably leaving for the next victim. Probably my husband.

"I feel like I could actually move around today" I got up from my bed, sleep had done enough for me today.

I still had the day off. With little to do I set about making an awesome breakfast. Eggs and toast never get old. My apatite was back and just having one was novel again. I would be going to work and these lazy days trapped in bed would end. They weren't pleasant days but they did give me some time to think. Time for those little things.

My age didn't bother me. I felt fine. Hell me and Miles fucked like rabbits every chance we got and I know I can still get a guy to look if I want them to. But it was one of those small, little things that got to me anyways. One of those things that shouldn't trouble me.

I hadn't had children.

If I wanted them I had to have them now. Before I became one of the 'too-lates.'

"I don't feel ready to have kids but I can't wait until I'm forty." Talking to myself felt like helping. Like I could solve my issue if I just thought about it long enough. I wanted kids, I think, but now felt too soon. My husband just never brought it up. And I the same. I hadn't even talked to him about it. Honestly who has the time or the drive to start a family. Me? I've been busy. I needed to talk to him though. That's the one thing I decided on over the last few days. I'm not going to tell him I want kids. I have to be careful about how I tell him- I just want to share what I feel, see what he thinks.

"Ahh crap I burned the eggs." I can be so absentminded when I think too hard.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was watching TV when Miles came home late from work.

"Hey how ya doin' Bell?" he sat down on the couch next to me and put his arm around me. A light smooch and a gigantic yawn from my favorite man. I snuggled into him.

"Fan-fuckan-tastic. I'm cured. I thought you would never show up. I've done nothing all day and I need some edutainment." I gave him a big kiss and tried to look as inviting as possible. I think it worked.

"Well don't count on me, I'm pooped." He took the controller from me and put on one of his shows. I would get nothing from him tonight. I sat a while, some supernatural crime show in the fifth season. I had no idea what was going on. I had watched several episodes and still couldn't make sense of all the details. It was one of those shows where you had to have watched it from the beginning. Missing one little detail changed the whole plot. And then theres that little thing.

"Miles?"

"What Bell." He actually pauses his show and looks at me. It really is one of those shows where you can't miss a thing.

"Umm, nevermind."

"Okay Bell." He unpauses. I just got over being sick and I don't want to ruin his show with a ... talk. I know they're excuses but there are better times to bring this up. One day is far from abandonment. Besides, we could make love tonight and I don't want to ruin that by getting all serious. It'll be with a condom on but it's been days since we've had a go. He's been holding me close all through this episode- his arm around me has drifted to rest right on my ass. I smile quaintly at him and in a nonplussed way he squeezes me right where I want him to. Soon enough he's massaging my thighs in a slow motion. I squeeze my legs together tightly, feeling myself getting wet. I feel his hand snaking its way around into my pussy, insisting access. I spread my legs slightly and his hand immediately- but slowly gets to work. It's torture, I know he has no intention of getting me off in this awkward position. He's just playing. I try reaching for gold but he swats my hand away, he's still focused on the show. I want him so bad. Miles is gonna get fucked hard tonight. And I cant wait for this stupid episode to end.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Work was terrible. A backlog of work reminds me why I do everything I can to not take days off. I take work home with me, and then bring my work back to work. Then I did some work at home and now here I am, at work again. The last fun I had was when I fucked my husband royally all night long. By the end of three full days I'm almost caught up. And when I get home I'm going to fuck the shit out of my husband like a good horny housewife I am. Unfortunately that's for much later, my lunch break is filled with braindead internet browsing. I ask Google my pressing questions. 'Should I have a baby?' I query. A million people like me show up. Yes, no, yes, yes, no, no, and yes. And then another million people saying maybe, or maybe not. Helpful stuff- the kind of stuff I can eat salad to.

"Hmm, how about- 'I'm so damn horny I must want kids'"

Yup, just as I though, horny brings up nothing but porn. Guess I should used the medical term. Luckily I'm on a work computer and none of these links will open. My hand is already in my loins. No, better to wait for Miles. One link stands out.

"Overcome Doubts About Motherhood (Hypnosis & Meditation)"

Now that's a link I can click for some real edutainment. The page loads slowly and looks like some old Geocite host with tons of rotating gifs and animated background. I kind of miss these kinds of sites. The cursor creates trails of spirals and sparkles across the page. I can't help but click through the pages exploring them. Every link and drop down menu creates some zany cheap effect. Best of all it was a local result. Literally on the drive back home from Boston. The guy listed every kind of service. Quit smoking, gain confidence, ask girls out, cure road rage, gambling addictions, pedophilia. Even had his eyes out for compulsive masturbation. This was all good stuff. I zoned out exploring the page and staring at shitty clip-art gifs longer than I should have, it was a welcome distraction. But this isn't important.

I still haven't had time to talk to Miles. It's been days and I can't seem to find the right time.

"Who, am I kidding, it has nothing to do with having time for it." I murmur at my screen. Every time I try to talk to him I can't bring it up no matter how much I want to. I just want everything to stay the same. I might not even want kids... I don't want Miles to think I want kids just because I'm overly cautious about my biological clock.

"I wish I could just make up my mind!" This time I yell a bit too loudly in my cubicle. My coworkers probably think I'm going crazy.

My eyes rest on the screen. If I just wanted kids, this wouldn't even be a problem. 'Overcome Doubts About Motherhood (Hypnosis & Meditation)' the screen read. That would be nice. Lunch break is over, I need to get back to work.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stuck at another red light. I'm hitting every one on the way home. I managed to catch up at work so I'm looking forward to a relaxing friday. I just wish I didn't have such a long commute. Yawn. Another yawn. I pull over to get a coffee. Leaving the small coffee shop I don't even have time to take a sip before I spot a small office on the other side of the street.

'Accredited Hypnotherapy & Counseling by Dr. Tyler Feldman.' I must have been taking the scenic route, I was at least five miles off my commute.

"I can't believe I accidentally drove to Everett instead of back to Stoneham. Of all fucking days." I must have been thinking of that oil change. The car kept bugging me that it was at five percent oil life. I must have casually set course for my mechanic who is only a few streets up from here. I should really get that done, hate to make the day even longer I groan. But hey, 'hypnotherapy'...

Almost sounds official. I might as well check it out while I'm here. I can't help but remind myself how seedy Everett looks as I cross the street. It's not that bad and I know a lot of nice interns from work that have to settle in here, but the sidewalks are crumbling and all the parking lots here are empty and decaying. Half dismantled shopping carts and chipped paint adorn the building I'm about to walk into.

Opening the door I'm greeted with a surprise. It's an incredibly clean and crisp looking office. Nothing amazing mind you but I expected a shit little business like this to be run out of someones tool-shed. It's was complete with receptionist and waiting area. Smooth jazz is playing in the background. I'm honestly a little impressed. It's a bit reassuring and I walk neatly up to the service desk.

A petite blond girl greets me.

"Name and appointment please."

"Oh, I don't have an appointment, my names Isabella by the way." The receptionist rolls her eyes so slightly she thinks I wont notice.

"Here, fill out these forms and pick a slot from the itinerary that you can make. Please fill all fields to the best of your ability." She shoves the forms into my hands and points to the itinerary pinned to the desk.

"Appointment? Ahh, I thought I could just talk to Dr. Feldman for a bit?"

"Absolutely not, Tyler is incredibly busy at the moment, make an appointment, no walk-ins." her pen taps a sign insistently, as if to mock me for not seeing it. No walk ins, no free sessions, no shirt, no shoes, no service. Fine then.

"Oh, well thank you." The receptionist goes back to being seemingly incredibly busy with paperwork. Not the best social skills for a receptionist. I sit down and start penning in my particulars. I'm not sure if I actually want to hand this in. Yikes, credit card information. Truthfully I was just in to browse.

The form had very little in the way of actual information gathering except for one question: 'Reason for wanting to be hypnotized:______________'

Unsure about kids? Yes hypnotist, help be be more unsure! I suppose I need a goal here. I guess I would say make me certain of what I truly want. I really don't know. I was hoping to just talk with Tyler the famed hypnotherapist about this. I leave the field blank, simply scribbling in 'pregnancy.'

Im startled when the receptionist yanks the forms from my hand.

"We are about to close. Please assign a time bracket Miss Bell." she shoves the itinerary in front of me, indicating I should point a time out. The itinerary is jam packed with names in every slot. I grudgingly point to a shitty eight AM slot on Saturday. So much for being up all night fucking my husband. If I show up, I remind myself. I would probably call in and cancel it.

Screw the oil change. I don't know what I was thinking, I'm going home. I need to go to sleep. I didn't realize how tired I was getting. I collapse as soon as I get home.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

I wake up way before Miles. It's four AM. I get up and have a light snack. I have plenty of time to think. I could go up there and ride his morning wood right now, but honestly I'm just not in the mood. I have to think about what I'm going to do here. Today is the day to do something about how I feel, for the better or the worse. No excuses.

I pour two cups of coffee, even though I've already had three. I've been stewing for two hours. I'll talk to him over coffee in bed. No pressure.

I get to the stairs and freeze. The coffee is shaking. A flood of fear rushes through me and the stairs look different somehow. Adrenaline is painting them in fierce detail. I'm over-caffeinated and my hearts pounding. I can't. I can't. I'm going to spill it. I take a seat and put the coffee down. Maybe if I collect myself. Deep breaths. Anxiety attack.

I stride for the stairs in a cool motion. Up one step. No. I turn to the kitchen. Two cups down the drain. That kind of fear isn't normal. I've never had an anxiety attack before. I feel unstable. For some reason I can't cope. I need help, a friend. Anything, I shouldn't be having issues talking to my husband. And for such a small unnoticeable reason. I know he loves me, but, something must be wrong. This has been at the back of my mind for years. It's too much right now.

I have an appointment to make. I'm going, even if it's just to talk with anyone. Hell I would spill my guts to the bitchy receptionist if she would listen. Call it therapy. I put on my coat and braced myself for the cold Massachusetts weather. Before I got in the car I marveled that I would actually be going to that fake appointment I scheduled.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The place looked the same. Same bitchy receptionist. I was a bit early so I had to wait for a while. Which was welcome since it gave me time to adjust to the pricing of the session. I had seen the rates yesterday but didn't think I would actually be charged. But it was just barely affordable I suppose. I take a seat without even greeting her and wait until It was my time. I was in no mood for her snide comments. I was a bit shocked I was even here, but I'm not the first person that ever wanted to go see a therapist. But I feel like I should be home right now. Such an odd place to be so early on a Saturday.

Five minutes before eight, the receptionist stands up.

"Isabella?" she calls me and I walk over to the desk.

"Thank you for coming. I'm Tatiana." She surprisingly extends her hand for a gentle handshake, smiling brightly at me.

"Come with me please, I'll be helping you get settled in." She turns towards a side door and I follow her.

We enter a very nice but sparse room. Bright overhead florescent lights bathe white tiles and white walls. Large abstract paintings attempt to fill the empty space, but fail miserably- they are obviously grouped to cover up two sets of windows. What little sunlight creeps through the clacks is drowned by the florescent. There sturdy looking desk, a standard office chair, and a bookcase. In the middle there's a odd looking brown piece of furniture. It looks like a large flat seat cushion with four one foot pegs keeping it off the floor. Tatiana wheels the office chair from behind the desk and takes a seat in it facing the brown... thing.

"Please Isabella, take a seat on the couch please." She gestures to the brown couch which would fail classification as a futon.

"So, can you tell me why you've come in today? You told us yesterday you were having issues with your pregnancy, could you be more specific so we can help you work towards your goals better? The more I know, the better I can help you."

"I thought I would be meeting with Dr. Feldman?"

"You will be. I'm just going to get some basic questions out of the way. You seemed a bit unsure about what you wanted out of this appointment, so I took the liberty of bumping you up to the nine O'clock timeframe. Someone cancelled so I thought this would work much better for you. Don't worry you wont be charged for this hour. It's already been paid for. People think they can just call in and cancel last moment and waste our time."

"Oh, well, thank you then. You didn't have to do that for me." They run a tight ship here. I'm glad I showed up. Otherwise I would have paid for nothing and would spend all day contesting the charge. Tatiana seems nicer today. Probably the effect of my credit going through. Still a bit of her bitchiness seeps through. Charging some poor shmuck for nothing. I can tell she like gloating about it, she could easily have just given me an hour on the house and left it at that. Still it's a bit flattering to get the extra hour.

"So can we begin please? About your pregnancy issues . . . please."

"Umm, well, I suppose, I don't know. I don't have issues, I guess I'm just indecisive about the whole thing, ya' know?"

"About whether to have kids or not?" she queries.

"I mean, maybe yeah, something like that. But there's more to it, it's more complicated."

"So, how can we help?" she asks.

"Well I just want to make up my mind... You know? On the one hand I could have kids but if I end up not liking it then, I mean, I just brought a kid into this world. I can't just send em' off to an orphanage if I decide it's not for me... I mean I guess I like kids... but I don't know. I'm sure I could live with it, I'd love them regardless but I would want to bring a kid into this world with full certainty and love. I've always thought that's how it should be. But the big problem is that I'm not. On the other hand, if I don't have children, I might regret it when I'm older. I don't want to have regrets. I want to have control over that. What's worse is I have no idea how to approach my husband over it."

"So you don't know whether to have kids or not?" She already asked me that question.

"Yes."

"That's not how hypnotherapy works. You have to have a clear goal in mind, and we'll help you achieve that goal. We can't make decisions for you." Tatiana was scolding me. But she was keeping it professional.

"To be honest, I was more interested in the therapy than the hypnosis." I confide.

"So you want us to help you decide?"

"Yeah, I guess, something like that."

"Okay then, could you give me a moment? I'll be right back, excuse me." Tatiana walks out the only other door in the room and closes it behind her.

That was sudden, I think to myself. I wish she had explained why she was leaving. So far this has been a waste of time. I watch the clock on the wall ticking away slowly. Five minutes, fifteen minutes. I guess she got sick of talking me. At 8:35 she finally walks in briskly and sits down.

"Sorry about that Isabella. I had to check up on some things but I think we have a solution for you."

"Oh... great."

"We're going to hypnotize you and try to glean what you feel on a subconscious level. We can't decide for you, there's legal issues. Hypnotherapy is perfectly legal but coercion is a legitimate crime and we have to be careful. So we're just going to walk you through your own thought processes. Most of our subjects say they can think clearly while in a hypnotic state. Does that sound alright with you? May we use hypnosis to find you a solution?"

"That sounds great if it works. I'm skeptical though, I've been fairly conscious for months and haven't come to a conclusion." I couldn't help but make fun of their hypnosis racket after she left me hanging for twenty minutes. Even if this helps, I'll probably just go a real therapist.

"Could you please lie down on the couch. I feel like you're too tense."

"If you're going to call this thing a couch again, you're going to have to add some sort of back support over here." a snide remark but I felt like I was sitting on a living room mattress over here.

"We prefer the rest pose." She crossed her legs and waited. It was clear she wouldn't continue until I did what she said, she just stared at me. I lay myself down. It was comfy at least. The bright florescent shot into my eyes.

"Please close your eyes for me Isabella." She produced a clicker and the lights dimmed slowly, only the ones on the outer rim of the room were dimly lit. I closed my eyes and tried to relax.

"I want you to focus on my voice Isabella. If I ask you a question, I want you to respond with yes or no. Or keep it as short as possible. Have you ever been hypnotized before?"

123
  • Index
  • /
  • Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Mind Control
  • /
  • Childbirth Hypnotherapy

All contents © Copyright 1996-2023. Literotica is a registered trademark.

Desktop versionT.O.S.PrivacyReport a ProblemSupport

Version ⁨1.0.2+795cd7d.adb84bd⁩

We are testing a new version of this page. It was made in 15 milliseconds