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This is another side story to the Outgrown By Dad theme.   It supposed to be a continuation of the one (the name escapes me at the moment) with the man and the psychiatrist.   There is mild violence and a gross amount of humiliation in this.   Discretion is advised.  Comments good or bad are welcome.

 

Outgrown By Dad - Tax Man - Part 1 - Consultation

 
"Ah, Mr Branson."  The giant Psychiatrist stood up to greet a diminuitive man. whom immediately cowered down into a crouch as if he was about to be hit.
 
"Whoa, it's okay.  Patrick, I won't hurt you."  The psychiatrist bent down after seeing Patrick Branson Junior.  It was then that the psychiatrist noticed large bruises and some lacerations on his body.   Knowing the patient's history, he was immediately alarmed.  
 
"Patrick?  Did your father beat you?"  The psychiatrist asked softly knowing he was in a delicate situation.  Patrick made no response other than shaking in terror.   The psychiatrist also knew that his large size due to his own transformation with being v'd didn't help things.
 
"Patrick, whatever it is that you are afraid of, I am not.  As a matter of fact, I can protect you from your fears now."  The psychiatrist said quietly and reached out a hand to Patrick.  Patrick slowly and cautiously looked at the psychiatrist's hand and then up to his smiling face and calmed down a bit.  The psychiatrist motioned for Patrick to the seats in his office.  
 
"Why don't you come have a seat and we can talk about it."  Patrick nervously nodded and got up from the floor.  Cowering he cautiously limped to the big leather seat and sat down immediatly curling his legs into himself as he can.  
 
"Can you tell me what happened?"  The psychiatrist spoke softly but his deep voice still resonated.
 
"Y... Y... You're big now."  Patrick stammered.  
 
The psychiatrist sighed a bit.  "Yes Patrick, I went through the V proceedure.  I needed it since I was getting older.  I was also diagnosed with cancer.  I am now cancer free for a few months now.  You could say it saved my life."  
 
Patrick uncurled himself a bit.  The fact that the psychiatrist NEEDED the treatment and didn't just do it to get big was of more comfort to him.  
 
"You aren't going to go off on me, are you?"  Patrick asked meekly.
 
"Why would I be angry at you?  I am here to help you."  The psychiatrist replied in a calm and reassuring tone.  There was a long pause as the psychiatrist watched Patrick calm down.  
 
"Do you think you could continue with this discussion or do you need some time?"  The psychiatrist continued.
 
"No, no.  I think I'm okay."  Patrick replied slowly.   
 
"Now I am going to probably bring up some bad memories in this session.  Do you think you are ready to deal with them?  I assure you, if you need to stop at any time, just let me know."  The psychatirist said in a reassuring tone.  
 
"Okay.  I can do that."  Patrick replied quietly.  
 
The psychatrist looked Patrick over and noticed the welts and bruises all over him.  He needed Patrick to take off his shirt to examine the damage but he knew it was too soon.  
 
"I noticed you have bruises all over you.  Did your dad do this?"  The psychiatrist asked point blank.  Patrick nodded.  
 
"I see.  What do you think you did to cause him to do that?"  
 
"I don't know."  Patrick's voice heightened an octive.  "I was just sitting there in the mail room minding my own business, doing my work, and all of a sudden, Dad barged into the mail room near naked.  I had not seen him since I was kicked out of the board and demoted to the minimum wage mail room position.  He was so much bigger!  His arms had to be almost twice the size of my waist!"
 
"Yes, it seems that you have lost some weight too now that you brought it up."  The psychiatrist injected.
"I was forbidden to eat any of the food that the family shared in.  I could only eat the scraps they would give me off the floor."  Patrick confessed nervously spilling out the information.
 
"It sounds like you ended up the family pet."  
 
"Sadly yes.  My family doesn't love me anymore like they used to.  All because of that crabby old monster my father is.  They all beat on me, my sons have broken some bones.  I'm worthless and they constantly remind me of that."  Mr.  Branson frantically confirmed seeming to open up almost submissively.  
 
"Now, Mr Branson, that's not true and you know it."  
 
"Yes it is.  I used to be the well respected and loved head of my family and my job.  I know I made cuts but it was for the better.  All of the many remaining co-workers said so.  Once Dad came back, it all changed.  All the old workers came back bigger than ever, pushing around the younger  non v'd ones.  A good portion of the v'd women would go on rampages against the others who chose not to.   We were actually afraid they would kill us.  They could if they wanted to."
 
"You were afraid for your life?"  
 
"Yes.  Until I finally got thrown out."  
 
"You were fired?"
 
"Yes, and thrown out of my own house."  Patrick confessed further.
 
"I see."  The psychiatrist replied writing more info in his notebook.  "So how are you getting by?"
 
"I'm not.   Ever since the incident that got me fired and kicked out of the family, I have been sleeping in shelters or on the street."  Patrick confessed shamefully.   "I have nothing now."  
 
The psychiatrist was clearly alarmed.  He had heard of cases of abuse, but this was the first time he had heard it for himself.  The psychiatrist picked up his phone and dialed an in house number.  
 
"Yes, Alice?  This is Dr. Bessemer.   Yes...   Could you have Mr. Hoff come up to my office in about fifteen minutes...   Thank you." 
 
"Tell me about this incident, Patrick."  Dr.  Bessemer asked turning back to Mr Branson.
 
"Well, as I said.  My Dad barged into the mail room.  He was dressed in nothing but a skimpy thong and looked like he had just come from a bodybuilding competition.  He was drunk, or now that I think of it, acting drunk."  Patrick paused with a nervous gulp.
 
"Go on..."  
 
"I was minding my own business in the mail room, trying to do my job with all the other 'weaklings that were no longer fit to work in higher positions'.  He barges in and starts yelling at all of us.  He was flexing his huge muscles in our faces and telling us how much bigger he got.  He started putting choke holds on some of them making them pass out... all of us scrambled to hide.   When he saw that, he only laughed and told us again how weak and feeble we were.  He called us all pussies threatened to hurt us if we ever set foot in the 'stronger class' work areas.  After that he saw me hiding in a mail basket.   He lifted the basket up with one arm and shook me before dumping me on the ground.  
Dr. Bessemer looked at Patrick's body language.  Although definitely frightened and traumatized, Patrick was also getting an erection.  
 
"Continue..."  Dr. Bessemer requested.
 
"He saw me with a boner..."   Patrick stopped again his hand slowly moving to his crotch.  "Dad, grabbed me and lifted me off the ground hard, I felt like he broke my arm as he shook me.  He kept yelling at me, telling me how much of a faggot I was and that I was the biggest mistake he ever made in his life.  He continued to berate me... and... and then...."   Patrick paused and looked up at Dr. Bessemer.
"And then what?"  Dr.  Bessemer asked patiently.
 
"And then... I felt his cock pushing against my back... it had ripped right through his thong."  
 
"I see."
 
Patrick began to break down, tears were welling up in his eyes.  
 
"He carried me into the work areas, ripped off my clothes and showed me off to all the other v'd men and women in the office!   Me and my boner were on full display!"   Patrick's despair gradually gave way to an intense anger that Dr. Bessemer saw in the intense eyes and clutched fists.  
 
"He publically humiliated you?"  Dr. Bessemer inquired cautiously.
 
"Not only did he do that but he offered me out for anyone to fuck with as a toy!"  Patrick's rage was becoming more intense with the continuing event, to which Dr. Bessemer was increasingly horrified.  
"Thank god... no one wanted to do it...  But...  But Dad made it all the worse...  Like he always does.   You know what he said after that."  Patrick's tone had quieted but the emotional turmoil was still there.  Dr. Bessemer could only tilt his head at what was next, his eyes squinting into a look of bewilderment.
"He told me... that I was worthless.  He told me I was so ugly and weak and such a wimp that I made everyone sick to even look at me.   He hoisted me by placing his hand under my crotch and squeezing my balls.  When I yelled he punched me and told me how much I made him sick to look at....  then he threw me out of the building, into an alley...  naked...  and told me to get lost and never come back."   Patrick broke down completely, his head hit his hands and he sobbed.  
 
Dr. Bessemer had no words to describe what he just heard.   For about a minute he sat there watching Patrick cry as he processed the events that were told.   Dr. Bessemer even contemplated the possibility that Patrick could be lying about all of it just to gain some attention from anyone, to replace the attention that his father provided even though it was humilating.  But Patrick clearly was in a state of extreme mental distress.  Dr. Bessemer put his hand out to Patrick and placed it gently on his shoulder.   
"Patrick, I can't begin to fathom how much pain you are feeling right now but the fact that you are away from your Dad is probably the best thing that could happen to you now."
 
"But, I have no job... and my family..."  Patrick blubbered.
 
"Any family that treats you like that is not a family."  Dr. Bessemer assured.  "You are better off without them now."
 
A loud knock sounded from the door.  
 
"He's early." Dr.  Bessemer mumbled looking at the door and then back to Patrick.  "The next step for you is to get you back on your feet."  
 
Dr. Bessemer then stood up to his towering height and strode over to the door.  Once opened Patrick saw it filled with the figure of another giant man.  Patrick's fear began to overtake him again to which the big man at the door saw and pointed.  Dr. Bessemer quickly got back to Patrick just in time to catch him falling off the chair with his eyes rolled back into his head.       
 
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This story is probably not of the best writing style because it was rushed.  I had to get it out of my head before it faded.  
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It's not that bad. ^^

Though I can hardly believe how abusive that father & his old family is. Is he going to get V'd too? I hope so and I hope he'll show his dad his place. >=(

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