Chapter 3 – Chapter 3
"Now, remember, Brandon," Dr. Milton was saying as he sat next to where Brandon was stretched out on a backless and armless couch, "As you drift into that world of pleasure and security, you will forget the dark as being a place of fear and confinement. You will think of it as a world of pleasure and freedom—freedom to express yourself and take your full pleasures."
Brandon's body was relaxing. He was drifting off as Dr. Milton's singsong voice helped him to move to that other world—a world of dark, but a world without fear, without inhibitions, of pure pleasure.
Milton continued droning on for a few minutes, listening for the shallow breathing, the slight pant—the pant of arousal that Milton himself had created in this luscious, young, hard-bodied man lolling on his couch.
"It's dark and getting darker, much darker." This wasn't so, the room was in full light. But Milton was making it so in Brandon's mind. "You are moving to that fully free pleasure world."
Brandon was laying on his belly, fully stretched on the couch, totally relaxed, a sensuous smile on his face and a bit of drool. He had raised his hips a bit and was slowing rubbing his basket against the leather of the couch.
Milton smiled, stood up from his chair, and moved around the room, turning off lights. He went to the windows and closed the blinds. It was almost pitch black in the room. He stripped off his trousers and briefs and then returned to the couch and pulled Brandon's trousers off his legs.
He stood there beside the couch, working up his cock. Brandon turned his head toward him and sighed, and Milton slipped the cock between the young man's lips.
Ten minutes later he was straddling Brandon's pelvis with his knees, riding his ass, while Brandon gripped the legs of the couch and moaned and pumped his pelvis back onto the doctor's cock. Fifteen minutes later, the doctor let out a little grunt and came. He rose off Brandon, let Brandon clean his cock with his mouth. Then he pulled his briefs and trousers back on and went to the door to the waiting room.
The same man who had been there the previous day and who had since heard—if not really paid attention to—an art movie in a nearby movie house came in, handed the doctor a tidy sum of money.
He removed and carefully folded his business suit and laid it on a chair. He walked over to the couch and reached for Brandon's ankles and turned the young man on his back. Brandon looked up at him—in the darkness—with a dreamy smile and hooded eyes of already being satiated, but ready for more.
The man was already hard, having let his mind go over this scene all the time he was in the waiting room and listening to Dr. Milton's grunts and groans and Brandon's little cries of the taking.
He spread-eagled Brandon's legs and thrust inside him. Brandon arched his back, clawed at the leather of the sofa, and moaned his new acceptance—his embracing—of the dark.