Resumption

Jessica drifted gently back onto the transformed couch, pushing the dazed guard aside with a bare foot. He slumped onto the floor, gasping, utterly spent. She surveyed the scene: Dave frozen mid-swat, his absurdly elongated cock still hovering near his forehead; Dr. Virginia suspended mid-"fo' shizzle," eyes wide with frozen panic; the guard panting on the rug. "Okay, enough time-out," Jessica murmured, snapping her fingers once. Instantly, Dave and Dr. Virginia thumped softly back onto the floor, limbs unlocking. Dave immediately clutched his throbbing, autonomous erection, whimpering. Dr. Virginia gasped, smoothing her suit jacket frantically. "Fo' shizzle, that was... mad disruptive!" she blurted, her voice still thick with forced slang. Dave groaned, his cock twitching violently upwards, thumping against his chin this time. "It's... beating... !" he stammered, horrified.

Jessica sighed dramatically. "Honestly, Dave, focus. Boundaries, remember?" She waved a dismissive hand. The room shimmered faintly. The velvet couch solidified back into standard therapy beige. The shattered window reassembled itself silently. Even Dave’s shirt cleaned itself, though his rebellious anatomy remained stubbornly active, pulsing rhythmically against his jawline. Dr. Virginia opened her mouth, desperate to regain therapeutic control. "Aight, check it," she began, her professional veneer cracking under the Snoop Dogg cadence. "We gotta establish a safe space, dig? No more levitatin', no more... magical muff-diving!" She gestured angrily at the groaning guard. Jessica just giggled. "Safe space? Sure, Doc."