Like this wasn’t already hard enough. Did she really have to help? I was more than capable of telling this man about my issues. And I would have… Once I got over how damn sexy everything about him was; his voice was the kind that reached into your core and turned everything inside molten. His eyes reminded me of dark polished wood, with an intensity that made me ache in all the right places.
“I’m sorry?” I asked in a quiet voice. It had never occurred to me when my friend, Tracy, had suggested I come to a sex therapist about my problem, that he would ask me such a question. I mean, not in the beginning, surely?
“Your friend, Tracy, said that you were having intimacy issues with your boyfriend. Basically because he is more-.” He paused, as if searching for the word, then, in a clear voice, he laid my entire problem out on the table. “Vanilla.”
I felt the blood rush to my face at his words. Tracy had told me she had talked to him about my situation. But damn! Did she have to go so far into detail? Thanks, Tracy. I should have known you’d sum it all up for him. How the hell had she known him anyway?
Taking a deep breath, I decided to take this proverbial bull by the horns. “And what else, I wonder, Sir, did Tracy tell you about me?” If he was already privy to all the intimate details of my life, I should be able to skip through most of the story and get to the heart of the matter.
The Therapist gave me a small smile. “You feel your friend betrayed your confidence by speaking to me about you?” His voice held an edge of humor and I couldn’t help the fact I bristled.
“Yes!” I answered bluntly. “Since you ask; it completely pisses me off. How do I even know where to start talking about the problem?” I sighed and relaxed a little in my seat. “I was expecting to tell you how he and I got to this point. Not immediately jump into my nasty sexual fantasies.”
At my words, his eyebrow lifted and his head tilted. Oh great, I thought dismally, here’s where he analyzes everything I say.
Right on cue, he asked what I knew he would. “Why do you feel your fantasies are nasty?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to search for the right words. Because they are. I wanted to answer. Worse than these questions he was asking me; was the fact that I found myself wanting to answer them. I wanted to fall into his eyes that reminded me of rosewood; dark and intense, yet also warm and friendly.
There you go again, you dirty slut! I thought angrily to myself. I was such a ball of nerves from needing more than Marcos would give that I was actually fantasizing about the therapist now. I honestly knew no shame.
Calm down, idiot. I told myself. This therapist specializes in issues of the intimate kind. You can talk to him, and since he’s so heavily booked and doing this as a favor to Tracy. You should quit being so stupid and just talk.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and mustered up to answer him. “Simple sex has never given me what I needed. I say it’s nasty because I crave being mastered.” There! I’d said that word. Now maybe the rest could fall out of my mouth without my tripping all over the issue.
Opening my eyes, I found myself staring straight into his. He had risen from his chair and moved to sit right before me. Those intense eyes burned into me in a way that had moisture soaking my panties. “Mastered how? Please, tell me more.”
His voice was like smooth silk shimmering across my skin, and I found I had to give him what he was asking for. Opening my mouth, I started to explain. “I want to feel my lover’s hands, guiding me to do as he wishes.” I whispered.
“I want to be tied to a St Andrews Cross with nipple clamps and be flogged. I want to feel the strips of leather against my skin, cool and soft, teasing my nipples to tighten before given just enough of a pop with it to sting.” My voice grew husky and I broke off, ashamed at how aroused just thinking about it made me.
I stared into his eyes after I spoke, waiting for some sign of revulsion. Anything that would tell me I was indeed as nasty and bad as I thought I was.
Instead, he smiled and asked, “And what else? I know you have more desires. It’s never such a thing as simple as just that.”
Emboldened by his calm reaction to my confession, I continued. “I want to be taken roughly from behind. I want my hair pulled and my ass spanked while he fills me with his cock and a clamp swings heavily from my clit.”
Just by mentioning that fantasy I caught myself squirming in my seat. Oh, My God, what if I left a wet spot in his chair?
He hadn’t moved since I’d voiced this last part. He simply sat there, staring into my eyes and it was then I knew. I had gone too far. I had admitted too much.
Tears came to my eyes and I had to look away. But I was stopped by his hand under my chin. “Do not look away from me.” He commanded and his tone was different.
My eyes again found his and I realized that I hadn’t disgusted him as I had originally thought. Instead, I saw from the slight flush in his cheeks that he was actually excited by my confession.
For a moment, we simply stared into each other’s eyes. Then he stood up and held his hand out to me. “I’d like to show you something.”
Hesitantly, I reached up and took his hand, standing with his assistance, although I was somewhat unsteady and my heart was now pounding in my ears. I opened my mouth to ask him where we were going, but, his words cut me off.
“Honestly, I was quite at a loss when your friend kept talking to me about you. Frankly, she didn’t allude to anything specific about your situation; only that you really needed my help.” He chuckled as he turned and led me towards a door in the back of his office, behind his desk.
I had felt it was odd to go to the man’s house, after hours for this session, but Tracy had told me he was so backed up at the office he would only fit me in if I agreed to go to his home.
I heard his voice pick back up and I turned all of my attention back to him as he spoke. “If I had known what Tracy was attempting, I would have met with you sooner.”
Confused, I watched him closely as he took a small key out of his pocket, and unlocked the door. As it opened, he led me into the darkened room, closing the door behind us, plunging us back into darkness; but only for a moment.
As if activated by our presence, florescent lights came on, illuminating the room in soft lights. Against the far wall, was a bed covered in black silk sheets, with silken purple ties hanging from each post. Along another wall, was an assortment of adult toys; floggers, and whips as well as belts and blindfolds hung there in silent anticipation of what the room promised.
Beside them, but placed strategically was a lovers swing, and in the very center of the room, standing in dark leather glory with stainless steel chains hanging, was a St Andrews Cross.
Some kind of nervous anticipation came over me and I began to shake. Then he was there, breath on my neck. “You see, I have very similar fantasies. But I have not taken a sub in a very long time. Honestly, I was not sure that I wanted another.” He said softly, and I felt his hand gently stroke my hair before brushing it away from my neck. Then his lips pressed against the pulse on my neck. “Until now.”