The story behind a story

I’ve written several stories and commissioned art that’s in my gallery in which the subject of a transformation is  in the psychiatric profession.  I have been in therapy myself a few times, mostly for depression and/or anxiety.  I started seeing one psychologist just after I graduated from high school. I thought she was cute, and she looked a lot like a model I found in some men’s magazines in the 70s.  She had a nice face, but could look stern if she had to do so.  That model is here.

I saw her for about three years, and also a few times years later.  Along the way, I told her about my transformation fantasies.  These included dreams, and those included some dreams about her.  I can remember a couple where I turned her into a dog, one in which she was turned into a baby (and nursed by her receptionist), and one where she was turned into a mouse in a maze.  She found these dreams fascinating.

But there was one dream in particular which has stayed with me all these years.  Sometimes it retreats into the recesses of my mind, but eventually comes back.  I never told my therapist about this one.  It was a dark one and I was worried that, if I told her about this, she’d have me locked up and start calling others in the psychiatric professions to come and examine me and my weird fetish.

In this dream, we were in her office, which was small.  Seriously, I’ve had closets with more space.  (She practiced with her boss, who was a fully licensed psychiatrist.)  We were talking, but, as we did so, I was twitching one of my fingers, while hiding it from her.  (A gesture like this was often something I did to work magic in dreams.)  Nothing happened for a few seconds, when she suddenly gave a huge gasp, and then quickly shrank into her clothes.

I wasn’t sure at first if she had just disappeared or changed.  I went through her clothes, moving aside her mini-skirt until I found her panties.  I examined these and found, in the seat/crotch of her underpants, a big, plump, wriggling worm.  And I became aroused.

Please understand, arousal in my dreams, then and now, is/was not something that happened very frequesntly.  I picked the worm up and found myself thinking of how this squirming thing around my fingers was a woman, my therapist no less.  And, yes, it excited me.  (My apologies if this is too much information for anyone.)

Unfortunately, the rest of the dream was of a kind I’ve had too many of to my disappointment.  I set the worm down on her desk, watching it continue to wriggle while I began gesturing with my finger again to change her back.

She didn’t change back.

As much as I love my transformation dreams, all too often ,someone I have turned into siomething does not change back into themselves.  And I’ve had some dreams where the transformed, if something like a mouse or a bug, gets eaten, stepped on, etc, not the kind of end I like to see because of a transformation.  

Anyway, this is the dream which let to my writing the story “Annelid Analyst” and commissioning the art that went with it.  A little “story behind the story” as it was.  I hope people found it interesting and not too much of an exploration into just how crazy I am,

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