“I mean…how would you feel if we re-created that night. If I was with you and we went over what happened from say… Your bedroom?” I ask, hearing how ludicrous, how unprofessional I must sound. But dammit if it isn't the only thing I want myself. The perfect place to claim her would be where it all began, right?
Her brow knits and needing something psychological sounding to tell her, I pluck the only two visible words from the cover of a Psychology magazine the doc has on his table. But it’ll work.
“It’s called…Exposure Therapy…” I explain, instantly setting her mind at ease when she hears it must be a real therapy model.
“Now, Lori. You won't be in any danger and there won't be a real man under your parents’ pepper tree…” I assure her, making her cross her brow again.
“I- I never said we had a pepper tree.” She challenges me, but I crease my mouth into a knowing, almost pitiful look. The way doctors do when they know they’re right.
“Lori… It’s only a suggestion. But I have seen this kind of therapy work. It’s the perfect way for you the patient to reconnect and re-frame the trauma. And for me as a therapist, I can evaluate how best to proceed… But only if you want to,” I remind her, “You have to trust yourself as well as me if you want to get better.” I add in a soothing tone.
The words ‘get better’ see all her defenses melt. She crimps her mouth, nodding in silent agreement.
“My parents have gone away for a few days… But if you really think it’ll help…”
Oh, it’ll help, Lori. And we get to be alone to boot?
This is getting better by the minute…
4
LORI
Dr. Schmidt’s suggestion for ‘exposure therapy’isunusual, but clearly, I need help. I’ve only gone and added the doc himself to my own fantasy, right next to my mysterious man in the shadows. Both of them making me so insanely aroused the only thing I want, no.Needright now is to be fucked.
Fucked hard and long… Even though I’mtechnicallystill a virgin. My fingers may disagree.
See!? I’m doing it again, everything in my mind leading back to just one thing. That feeling… That man and his giant dick.
I agree with the idea in the same way I’d do anything Dr. Schmidt wanted if it’s gonna help me get over this, but I get a shock when I explain to Dr. Schmidt that my friend Becky is supposed to stay over for the weekend.
“…Since that night my parents won't leave me in the house alone,” I tell him, feeling a stab of hurt in my chest as he shakes his head violently from side to side. His brow knotted before he pinches the bridge of his nose. A deep growl from him signaling his instant disapproval.
“No…No!” He says loudly, making me jump. His eyes flaring wide as he snaps them open again with what I could only describe as jealousy at the mention of anyone else being there.
“It has to be just you and me, Lori. That’s how the therapy is designed to work. I strictly forbid anyone else to be present…” He says cuttingly.
“Just like your therapy in my office…” Dr. Schmidt explains, calming himself instantly and giving me a knowing look, “…If it’s going to help you, we can’t have any outside interference… I want to get deep inside you, Lori. Deep into what happened that night and I just can’t do that if we have anyone else there. Do you understand?”
My head’s pumping nods now. My throat dry when I try to gulp hard, the words ‘deep inside you’ echoing in my ears and making me about to cream my panties all over again if I don't get some relief here.
Get some therapy, I mean. To fix whatever's wrong with me.
“But- But Dr. Schmidt-?” I ask, trying to focus on something other than my growing need, “I need you to tell me more about what's actually wrong… Why do I feel- Why am I getting a sexual urge every time I think about that night… About-About you even…”
There, I said it. That oughta stop him in his tracks. I don't feel any better for saying it aloud though and Dr. Schmidt goes quiet a moment, a strange expression taking over his features as if he's just tasted a lemon before he stands abruptly, moving over to the window just like I did a few minutes ago. Sniffing in a deep lungful of air that he exhales, giving me a shiver inside I don’t think I can suppress another second.
“…I’m glad you’ve told me, Lori.” He says. And although I can't see his face I get the impression he's beaming ear to ear until he finally tilts his head, keeping his front facing the window but locking his eyes on mine. He’s smiling alright. And if I didn't know better I think I might be getting the kind of therapy I really need after all.
“It has to be just us from now on, Lori…” He says, letting his serious face return but he faces out the window again, “…I mean. If you’re getting this feeling every time you see a man? Well! I won’t have you wandering around getting yourself into any danger…”
“Not just any man…” I reply instantly, defensively. Wishing he could see the pleading look in my eyes. But he only hums deeply in reply. Letting me stew on it in silence, making me wonder if all this, including his behavior, is all part of this ‘treatment’ he has in mind.
“I- I’ll call Becky…” I murmur after a long silence. If this therapy works, I’ll be cured so I can’t take any chances. I have to do what the doc wants and Becky’s due this afternoon so I need to act fast.
“Good girl.” Dr. Schmidt whispers. Rewarding me with a smile when he resumes his seat as I dial. Making sure I’m doing as I'm told.
Becky’s phone goes to voice mail and I feel like I could cry, only because I don't want to upset Dr. Schmidt or waste any more of his time. She calls back just as Dr. Schmidt takes a long inhalation through his nose, frowning and casually glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece.
