I sat there with my head tilted and I watched, as it was all I could do.
The lighting was dim, but not so dim that I couldn't see her reaction. It filtered softly through the thin fabric of a filtering shade. The normally bright fluorescent that glared and buzzed overhead was off, creating an intimate space where she'd divulged her darkest and most depraved desires to him over the previous year.
His hand ran along her cheek. Closed eyes and a shuddering breath were her only available reactions. He smiled and leaned down, his weight supported by one hand near her head.
"Open," he whispered.
She tried to resist, but his hand moved gently against her cheek and a whimper died somewhere in her throat. She turned her head to me and opened her eyes. That wasn't what he'd wanted. He wanted her to look at him. He wanted to look into her eyes. Instead, she gazed at me. Her expression shifted to one of sadness as I smiled, and watched.
It had been a lot to ask of her, I know. But when I proposed it, she didn't say no. She'd simply asked, "Why?"
And I'd responded, "Why not? He's attractive. Tall with dark hair, a soft, full smile and a nicely toned body. You've thought about it. I know you have. You've watched him react as you talk about the experiences you most enjoyed. The ones that caused you deep shame. You know, the ones where you went home after and cried in the shower as you scrubbed their taint from your body."
Yes, but..." I quieted her with a grin.
"You want to. It's been on your mind for weeks. You've been getting more detailed in your experiences, trying to get him hard for you. And just last night in the bath, with your legs draped over the sides of the tub and the water teasing your clit. You said his name as your fingers rubbed fast and hard inside of you. You came thinking about it being his tongue on your clit and his thick fingers bringing you over that edge. Don't deny it."
She didn't. But her cheeks had flushed and she hadn't looked me in the eye again until today. It was a shame, really. Her eyes were such a soft green, they were beautiful to look at, especially when clouded with pain and embarrassment. Her red hair was cropped short, quite messily and recently. It was her self-inflicted punishment for having desires she didn't want to have but couldn't deny. The look worked for her. It framed her delicate face and brought all attention to those brilliant and pain-filled eyes.
It didn't take much to convince her. And it was no effort to convince him. A few sessions with a gentle laugh and light touch, no bra, tight shirts with buttons barely holding on offering slight peeks as she moved, a short skirt, no panties, an excited bounce before leaving...
He was sweating as she spun on her heels at the end of this session. "John..." She pushed a messy lock of her hair behind her ear and looked up, a little smile and a pink flush on her cheeks as she tilted her head. "You don't have another client after me for a while, right?"
"Yeah. For about two hours, why?" He tried so hard to look casual, but he'd been watching her ass and hips intently since she'd bent at the waist near the couch and offered him a glimpse of her glistening pussy when she picked up her backpack, which she now dropped with a smile.
She ran her fingers over the tiny pink buttons on the cropped fuzzy sweater she wore and slid the bottom one loose. "Because I've been making great progress and..." The next button up came loose and the lower swell of her breasts were revealed as the tight sweater parted. "I'd like to reward you for helping me."
He swallowed hard, but didn't stop her. Instead, he got up and closed the shades, turned off the light, and locked the door to the tight little office. Then he watched her pop the last button loose. He didn't even try to resist.
She stepped closer to him and ran her fingers down the buttons of his shirt, gently flicking the top one loose as she looked up at him. He set his jaw, and she continued as his hands slid beneath her sweater and up her slender back. She moved achingly slowly, and watched his reaction carefully as she lowered herself in front of him as he pulled her sweater from her as she lifted her hands for him. She smiled and he balled it up then tossed it aside.
His shirt hung open, tie loosened, pants unbuttoned and unzipped in a flash. Her fingers slid over his skin as she pulled his pants down his thighs. She was greeted by an erect, uncut and veiny cock then bit the corner of her lip as she looked up at him with a soft, lustful expression. "May I?"
His hand slid up the back of her neck, into her soft hair, and pulled her closer without a word. She took her time. Her eyes stayed locked on his as her tongue slid between his balls and up the underside of his shaft. He shuddered and pulled his shirt and tie off. Sweat was already apparent on the thin material.
She moaned as she took his cock deep into her mouth, the room silent except for the wet sucking of a thick dick and the guttural groan of a man indulging in a woman he knew he shouldn't have. It was a tease of tongue and lips on his cock until his cheeks and chest held a red flame and he pulled her away and lifted her onto his desk.
He didn't bother removing her skirt; no need. But he did remove her heels so he could watch her toes curl as he lapped at her already slick pussy. His tongue delicately swirled and pressed at her clit, then slid down and curled inside of her. His lips closed over her in a kiss, tongue flicking delicately as he stroked his cock while she threw her head back and moaned. Her toes gripped the edge of his desk and her long, slender fingers pulled his mouth tighter to her as she moved her hips and began to grind her clit against his eager tongue.
It was messy to start. His lips shimmered with her fluid as he climbed back up and kissed her. Then he sank his throbbing cock into her, making them both shudder and moan. Her knees lifted and spread further apart as her hands grabbed his hips and moved to his ass, pulling him to her.
He slid one hand between them, his thumb rubbing her clit hard and fast, making her hips gyrate as he stayed still and she fucked herself on his cock. Her first orgasm was there. On his desk, with his teeth locked on her neck and her hands pulling him in deep and holding him there as she cried out at his eager fondling of her sensitive clit. Her foot straightened and thigh trembled as her pussy clenched rhythmically on his firm cock.
Before she knew it, he had her on the couch, her head hanging off the side slightly, positioned to look in the mirror as he fucked her, and I watched.
Smiling, knowing she hated me watching, and not caring. I even teased her with little whispers of calling her a filthy slut and desperate whore beneath my breath. Just for her to hear.
Her self-loathing was beautiful. The sabotage came so easily. And the pain that cut through her with every forbidden touch of his lips and hands and cock to her was visceral with repulsion, of me, not him. She quite liked him.
Her gaze locked onto mine, as we both shed tears over it. Another therapist ruined for her. Progress reset to zero. This guaranteed my life for at least a few more months while she started over with a new search of options and modalities of care.
The light filtering into the room made the scene feel sinister. Like at any moment her non-existent husband would break down the door and be incensed at her betrayal as her therapist brought her to heights beyond his own abilities.
Instead, she moaned and he covered her mouth with his. Her knee bent and her foot pressed against his ass, pulling him tighter into her. The gentleness of their movement was almost upsetting to me. This wasn't visceral. It wasn't animalistic. It was sensual, and caring.
Her last therapist had used his knowledge of her to satisfy himself so well. He'd positioned her over the arm of the couch and pushed her face into the cushions as he fucked her hard from behind. He told her what a fucking miserable little tease she'd been during her sessions, then he took his frustrations out on her eager and willing body.
John knew just as much about her, but still, he kept her in missionary. His touch and kisses were soft, exploratory. His thrusts slow and deliberate as he watched her watching me. Then he grasped her chin and broke the spell I had on her as he turned her to look at him.
"She's not you," he said with a groan as her pussy tightened around him.
"But she is... She..."
"Is part of you, but not all of you. I'm not seeing her. I'm not feeling her."
I watched. My cheeks heated and my lips pursed. "What the fuck is this?" I asked.
She tried to turn toward me again, but he held her jaw firmly and gazed into her eyes. "Focus on me, Jess."
And still, I watched. The way his body moved with hers, the way her hips lifted to him and her squeaky little moan made him shudder as he lifted his hips with a deep thrust made me frown. He was seeking her pleasure, not just his own.
He lifted from the couch and turned, putting her on top of him and facing her away from the mirror, away from me. Her hand rested on his chest as her hips rolled. Her movements were more urgent than his had been. Her body curved beautifully, his hands gripped her hips and tried to slow her down, but he only succeeded in making her gyrations more forceful.
She leaned back, her hips did most of the work with guidance from his hands as she supported herself on his thighs. I couldn't see, but I felt the rest. His thumb on her clit, small circles, and delicate pressure. Her thighs clenching as his cock twitched.
"Jess, Jess." He tapped her thigh and she leaned over him, her hands caressing his jaw as she smiley, her tongue and lips trailed over his chest in light little kisses that teased his skin and tickled his chest hairs, her fingers grazed his nipples as she tightened on him.
He kept stroking her clit. Deliberate touch meant to connect them, and it did, but it held risk. He wasn't wearing a condom and she wasn't on birth control. Jess and I knew how great the risk, and she moved her hips a little faster, harder. I didn't have to coerce her at all. "I'm..." He shuddered and she cut him off.
She covered his mouth with a kiss and he hungrily returned her affection as he grabbed her hips and pulled her down onto his cock firmly. His grunting and lifted hips, the twitch of his cock, the slight jolt of pressure against her cervix told her everything she needed to know. She smiled as she sat up, titling her head as she took in his image and rolled her hips against him.
But she didn't see what she expected. No deep shame, no fear, no anger towards her for corrupting his ethics, and no sign of regret at releasing within her. No, he looked relieved. And happy. Her hand cupped his jaw, her thumb traced delicately along his bottom lip before she leaned down and kissed him deeply again.
When their lips parted, he was panting slightly, and she smiled. "Same time next week?" she asked with a playful lilt.
His hand came up and cupped her cheek, thumb grazing her lower lip, mimicking her contented touch of him a moment before. "How about tomorrow night at seven? Dinner? Dancing?"
She reached up and stroked his wrist. "I think that would be a bad idea. But I can start coming in every day at noon for a deep session. I think with enough of these she will wither away to nothing. Are you willing to help me with that?"
"You want me to fuck you every day?" He chuckled, but didn't push her away.
She glanced in the mirror, and I smiled back at her. She knew as well as I did, that the self-loathing only grew with such sessions. But then, she enjoyed the pain that came alongside the shame. "Well, you don't always have to fuck me. We can do other things, too."
He grasped her waist and lifted her off of him. "Like you sucking my cock while I praise you?"
She nodded, and I nodded along with her. I was ready to pull him a little further in. Ready to make him hurt her the way I wanted him to.
She knelt on the floor, and I could see his cum leaking from her cunt as she leaned over him. "Mm hmm." Her hand grasped his wrist and pulled his palm to her throat. "You don't have to praise. You can force and control." She urged his fingers to tighten on her neck as she licked his messy cock. He twitched and groaned as he watched her. "You can insult and belittle me. You can vent your anger onto me." Then she put her hands on his inner thighs and stroked as she leaned forward between his legs.
Delicate tongue cradling his shaft, full lips enveloping his crown, fingers sliding over his thighs and gripping him to indicate her interest. Beautiful, soulful eyes full of so much need for praise lifted to his face, watching his expression as she sucked his cock deep into her mouth.
His grip on her throat tightened and she wiggled her ass for me. He moved closer to the edge of the couch and guided her between his knees. She caused him to rebound fast, and she still found his thickness difficult to swallow, but she managed to messily, and loudly, take him into her throat. His hips rose toward her as one hand gripped the front of her neck and one the back. Her whimpers brought a flush to his cheeks and he surprised me by looking in the mirror at her reflection, but also past it, as though he could see me.
I shrank back and watched him curiously, fearfully.
Once he regained full hardness, he pulled her onto his lap, then stood with her, walked across the room, and pushed her back against the cold mirror. She winced. And he fucked her hard while staring into the silvered antique glass. It was unnerving the way he seemed to lock eyes with me as he made her squirm with each thrust of his dick.
"She's a different side of you, right?" he asked with a groan and lifting thrust.
"Mm hmm."
"Is she as eager for affection as you?"
Jess shook her head, her arms draped behind his neck. "She... hates being touched. It hurts her."
His gaze shifted to her. "Does it now? And you enjoy being hurt, right?"
He thrust deep with that and she moaned. "Y-yes."
"What does she enjoy?"
"Hurting me, just different. Not how I like."
He looked into the mirror again, at me. Undoubtedly and directly at me. Then he whispered, partly into her ear, and partly toward me. "I want to hurt her, Jess. Not you. I only want to hurt her by making her go away."
"She is me, John. Yes, I speak about her like she's a separate person, and in a way she is, but she's also me. My sense of morality and shame."
"She causes you emotional pain?"
She nodded and kissed him.
He was slightly out of breath when he pulled away from her lips. "You only enjoy physical pain?"
"Mm hmm."
"This is so difficult to talk about while I'm fucking you, Jess." He laughed slightly and she tilted her head.
"Then stop talking."
"I want to understand..." He trailed off as she kissed his neck with little pointed flicks of her tongue against his skin. "Fuck."
"Understand later. Right now, yes, fuck." Her soft and sweet tone sounded playful and teasing. His cock twitched in response.
"I don't want to set you back..."
"Then don't. We'll figure it out." She tightened her legs on his hips and curled her hand behind his neck. "But please stop talking about therapy shit while you're fucking me. It's a little depressing that you're more into my mind than my body, John."
"I can be deeply into both." He laughed, and she looked into his eyes.
"She's just the little devil on my shoulder telling me to fuck my therapists when it starts to look like I'm on the right path. My little saboteur."
He stopped thrusting and she whimpered. "She's your pain repository, Jess... you get better and she gets smaller and smaller until you can't hear her anymore."
"Okay? And?"
"And you can still get better even with... this... happening."
She laughed and I watched her closely. "I can't get better because I can't see you anymore. This assures it."
He smiled and thrust hard. She whimpered as her back slid against the mirror. It was cold, and made her arch away from the glass. "You can, though. Just not as a therapist in an official capacity."
She rolled her hips down and my curiosity was piqued. None of them had ever offered to see her outside of being a patient. They fucked her then dumped her as a patient. I hadn't planned for this.
"What do you mean?" She asked before kissing his neck, the flick of her tongue made him pull away slightly, like it tickled, or maybe made it difficult to think.
"I mean I can see you as a friend. Outside of the office but on a steady schedule, and we can have conversations about whatever is going on with you. And..."
"We can fuck?"
"Yes. That, too."
He kissed her, and the conversation ended as their movement became rhythmic. The mirror threatened to crack against her back as he thrust hard and held her there.
She returned his kiss with a deep need as her hand slid between them. Her fingers caressed along either side of her clit and she shuddered in his arms. She wondered if he was being genuine, but she also didn't care. He had a nicer cock than her last therapist. He was more attractive and she liked talking to him, as well. She would happily be his personal slut if that's what he wanted. Girlfriend would be nice but not necessary.
He wasn't being delicate with her. He also wasn't being violent or pushing toward her desire to be used, and he was no closer to my goal of him discarding her after. He was enjoying her. I could see it on his face. She intrigued him and he got more than physical relief from her.
And still, I watched. It wasn't like I could do anything to circumvent what was happening right in front of me. I was a part of her. And I made sure she felt doubt about his words and intentions. I whispered in her ear anytime she let herself relax against him.
All the dark things she needed to hear to remember who she really was. The whore. The needy little girl. The temptress. The idiot. The savant. The perfect girl on her knees. The one who looked up with adoration as men slapped her or pushed their dicks deeply down her throat. The one passed around by friends. The one that bullies loved to fuck in front of their next target. The one who fucked the boyfriends of the girls who tormented her in college. All the things she's ever been told she was, all the praise she never lived up to, all the insults and truths she couldn't escape.
Her tears came quickly, but she refused to stop kissing him as he fucked her for the second time. When he finally broke free of her soft lips, she opened her eyes and watched him.
"You okay?" He asked.
She nodded and half-smiled as he carried her back over to the couch. He lay her down and kept one knee on the couch. They both had one leg off of it as well. He moved slowly. His hands slid over her jaw and down her neck. They trailed along her clavicle and over her breasts, then moved back up again until he cradled the back of her head in his palm. His other hand supported himself near her shoulder and she moaned as his thrusts became deeper and more forceful.
"Please," she whispered softly.
"Please what?"
"Stop being so gentle."
He smiled and pulled free of her, making her whine. Then he repositioned her. She knelt on the couch with her forearms propped on the cushioned arm. He pushed into her from behind with ease and they both let out a soft groan as he curved his body firmly against hers. His hands caressed her hip and up along her flank, then he cupped her breast in one palm as his other slid down between her legs.
His fingers made her squirm. Pushing herself back to him as he stayed still and teasingly slid his finger and thumb around her swollen clit. She ached for release and he kept her just on the cusp as he began to meet her needy rhythm. His hand caressed her breast and fingers rolled along her firm, pink nipple.
The impact of connection between their bodies hurt a little. With her legs tightly together and his spread open on either side of her, she was a tight, warm receptacle for his thick cock. Her resistance to being pushed forward with his thrusts made them both moan. She felt every bit of him. Every vein and ridge on his cock was pronounced as it slid within.
She tried to pull away, but the hand he'd used to fondle her breasts moved up to her neck. He gripped her firmly and pulled her. John made me watch the flush along her pale skin deepen. He made me watch his fingers spread her labia and torment her clit with slow and rhythmic swirls and strokes. He made me watch her breasts bounce as his body connected forcefully with hers.
Her back arched and he pulled her further, resting the back of her head on his shoulder. He held her as he stroked her clit faster.
She whimpered and squirmed. Her skirt had long been bunched around her waist, a cut of dark pink wool across pale flesh that highlighted the delicate shape of her body.
I watched. Aroused by her pleasure being so displayed. Aroused by his control of her. Her thighs trembled and her stomach clenched as she closed her eyes. Her hips pushed back, meeting a deep thrust and I knew it hurt her, but she still came with a shuddering gasp. His hand on her pussy continued stroking her even as she writhed in his grip.
"Good girl," he whispered as he thrust harder and faster into her spasming cunt.
His hand glistened as he slid it up and gripped her hip. He kissed the back of her neck and she lay her hands on top of his wrists. One at her neck, one at her hip, and held him as he fucked her.
She whimpered and her stomach clenched as his forceful cock pushed her to another orgasm. Her heart raced and body dripped with sweat as she trembled.
He groaned and held her tightly to him and pushed himself deep within her, then grunted as he came again. Weaker that time, but still an orgasm with release into her unprotected cunt.
"Jess," he whispered once he could speak. His grip on her didn't let up even slightly, his lips and breath tickled her ear. "I want to increase the time I see you each week."
"Okay." Her voice wavered. The angle of her neck and his firm grip made it difficult to speak.
"We'll start with..." his hand slid down her neck and over her firm body. "Daily sessions. Eight PM."
She turned her head toward him, and nodded.
"He's going to get sick of you. Everyone always does. It starts nice, but then..." I said, but he interrupted me.
"I think you'll find you like this modality. Pleasurable reinforcement. Sex as praise. A lack of shame in watching your body enjoying physical touch and watching someone so enjoy the honor of using your body for their own pleasure..."
"And pain?" She asked sweetly, her eyes open wide and looking up at him with adoration.
He cupped her breast and stroked his thumb across her erect nipple. "Perhaps. If you're very good." His thumb and index finger gripped her nipple and pulled it firmly. "But you have to be good to yourself to be rewarded with pain."
She smiled and I frowned. He understood what no one else ever had.
Fuck.