In Therapy

It was raining in the city, and the subway was crowded and slow, and I was nearly late for my first appointment.  I’d been warned that I should be there fifteen minutes early the first time; I walked into the office right at the stroke of eight, thoroughly disheveled and dripping wet.

The receptionist was a dowdy-looking middle-aged Jewish lady with a thick Brooklyn accent and bifocals.  She had a long series of forms for me to fill out: past medical history, billing information, consent and release papers, etc. This was all mildly annoying because I’d already filled out most of them online already.  When I was done, I handed the clipboard back to the frizzy-haired receptionist, who went over my paperwork with a red pen, checking boxes off.

“Marks or no?”

“I’m sorry?” I said.

Receptionist pushed back her glasses and looked up at me.  “Can we leave marks and bruises on your skin, or would you prefer there be none?”

“Oh…” I looked guiltily down at the ring on the fourth finger of my left hand.  “Marks and bruises are fine… as long they’re under my regular clothes.”

“Of course.”  Receptionist stifled a yawn, took my credit card, ran it through the machine, and gave it back to me.  She reminded me of the grandmother I’d never met, and I felt vaguely self conscious knowing that she’d just read through the intensely personal questionnaire I’d just filled out.  (Date of last menstruation? Anal penetration y/n? Any phobias; piercings, allergies? Aversion to urine or other bodily fluids?) “You can go in now.  First door on the right.  The doctor will see you shortly.”

I swallowed hard and headed for the corridor behind the receptionist’s desk.

“Take your coat!” Delia (I only learned her name later) called after me, “Our clients leave through a separate exit.”  She pronounced every syllable of ‘separate’ distinctly.  “Enjoy your visit Honey.”

Heart fluttering like a butterfly, I scooped up my wet rain jacket and bustled past Delia’s desk into the beige-carpeted hallway.  Going through the first door on the right, I found myself alone in a small, nearly bare room that smelled faintly of bleach.  The floor was hard and cold, tiny white tiles, and there was a drain near the center of the room.  There was a d-ring on a steel plate bolted into the floor.  The only furniture was a black folding chair, a medical-looking cabinet, and a coat rack.  I sat down on the chair with my jacket wadded up in my lap, and waited.

After what seemed like a long time, but was probably only five minutes, the door opened and an efficient young black woman in a lab coat came in.  She introduced herself as Elka and asked me to disrobe.  She was about my age, slender and attractive, and spoke with a faint accent that I couldn’t place.  Egyptian?  Peruvian?

Feeling her eyes on me, I stood up and started undressing.  I stepped out of my shoes, pulled off my blouse and skirt.  I looked over at her and she nodded.  I unsnapped my bra, and stepped out of my panties.

“Very good.” Elka said nodding, and I took it as a compliment and flushed.  The air in the room was cold.  “You may hang up your clothing or fold them on the chair.”  I did so.  “Now I have to get you ready.  You will kneel please?”

I got down on my knees.  The tile was cold and hard on my flesh.  Elka opened the cabinet and pulled a few items out.  “I have to secure you, yes?”  She fastened my wrists behind my back with velcro restraints.  She placed a studded leather dog collar around my throat.  Then she took out a heavy chain with snaphooks on both ends.  She fastened one end to the d-ring in the floor, the other to the collar around my neck.  It was just long enough to allow me to kneel upright.

“Comfortable?” she asked.  I nodded.  “The doctor will see you shortly.”  She smiled, a big friendly smile full of perfect white teeth, and she left the room, closing the door behind herself.

I waited another eternity.  My skin was goose-bumpy and I kind of had to pee, and my knees ached on the hard tile.  Finally the door opened again and the doctor entered the room.  He wasn’t what I had expected at all: he was a cherubic little man in a tweed suit, maybe fifty or so, plump and balding with rosy cheeks and delicate round eyeglasses and a perpetually amused smile on his face.

“So what brings you in to see us today?” he asked as he put on a pair of latex gloves.  He had the faint New Yawk accent of an educated native.

“It’s complicated…”

“Of course it is.”  He snapped the latex gloves around his wrists and started rummaging through the cabinet behind me, just out of my sight.  “It’s always complicated.  Hopefully you will find what we do here interesting and you will want to come back.  Then we can get to know each other a little better and start to understand your reasons for coming here in the first place.  What do you say we start with an enema?”

Naked, collared, and chained to the floor, I was in no position to argue.  And anyway, arguing would have been contrary to the purpose of my visit.  Nonetheless, I had never had an enema before, and I felt a rush of self-consciousness and nervous excitement.

The doctor lubed up my anus with his latex-covered fingers.  I felt myself blushing all over.  I had never felt so naked before, so vulnerable and exposed.

He shortened my chain so I was bent over with my face pressed against the tile floor and slipped the rubber nozzle into my asshole.  I realized that I had become intensely physically excited: my clit was swollen and tender and my pussy felt juicy and the sensation of the enema nozzle in my butt only exacerbated my condition.

The black girl, Elka, knocked once and entered the room pushing a rolling stand from which hung and improbably large bag of clear fluid.  The doctor connected a hose, turned a valve, and said “I’ll be back in a moment.”

The two left brusquely, leaving me alone, kneeling with a chain clipped to the collar ‘round my neck and my cheek resting on the cold tile of the floor.  I immediately felt the warm, soapy water start to invade my body.

At first the sensation was relaxing, even pleasurable.  I was still excited from being so exposed in front of the doctor, and I discovered that by squeezing my thighs together, I could stimulate my horny clit.  Not enough to get myself off or anything, but it felt nice.

Then I started to get worried.  I was feeling bloated, full beyond full.  I didn’t think I could take much more, and I really didn’t want to have an accident.  The pressure increased, and I started to cramp up.  I glanced behind me.  The bag of water was only half empty.  I gritted my teeth and clenched my fingers and my toes.  I moaned out loud.  Nothing I did seemed to help at all. I felt stretched to the bursting point, humiliated and uncomfortable and incredibly aroused.

Half an eternity later, Elka bustled back into the room.  She checked her watch, noted that the enema bag was empty, nodded, closed the valve and detached the hose.  Leaving me writhing in misery, she rolled the stand out of the room and shut the door after herself.

Another half an eternity went by.  Tears were rolling down my cheeks, and my gut felt like it was going to explode.  I was just about to blow the nozzle out my ass, squirt dirty brown water all over the doctor’s office and suffer the consequences which, I was sure, would be dire as well as humiliating.

In the middle of a long, deep-throated moan, Elka came back.  She was bearing a metal bucket like the kind a farmer might milk a cow into.  She smiled at me, showing off two rows of perfect white teeth.

She unclipped the chain around my neck.  “You will squat, please.”  She indicated the bucket that she had set on the floor.

I obediently squatted over the empty bucket.  My breasts felt huge and heavy on my chest.  Elka put her rubber gloves on and pulled the nozzle out of my asshole.  The sensation made me yelp.

Now that it came down to it, I had a hard time letting go with Elka standing so close to me, watching intently with arms crossed.  A wave of shyness and embarrassment swept over me.  I looked up at her, begging silently for a show of mercy.  She just observed dispassionately.

Finally the inevitable happened.  Exhausted sphincter muscles won out over social conditioning.  With a horribly loud sound, my body let go and shot gallon after gallon of warm, wet, messy brown water into the bucket.  It seemed to go on forever and ever, and it was the most intense sensation I think I have ever experienced.  At last it was all done, and I realized I was weeping.

Elka wiped me clean with a towelette, and disposed of her gloves.  She led me back to my kneeling position in center of the room, and clipped me back into my chain.  “You are a very pretty girl” she said.  She glanced furtively at the door, and untied the waistband of her white scrub pants.  She pulled them down around her thighs.  She was wearing electric blue panties.  She pulled aside the fabric of her panties and I caught a tantalizing glimpse of her snatch, black and pink and shaved bare.  She ran a finger up and down her slit, and offered it up to me.  It was covered in her slick wetness.  I took it eagerly into my mouth and sucked it clean.

I hadn’t tasted another girl since I had been in college.  Elka tasted amazing and I instantly wanted more: salty, slick, clean, feminine.  She pulled her pants back up, straightened her shirt, flashed me a toothy smile, picked up the bucket, and left me alone.

I realized that the wetness on my thighs had leaked directly out of my pussy.  My clit felt like it was the size of a ripe plum.  Scrunching my thighs together made squishing sounds and felt good, but ultimately only served to make me more frustrated.  My arms, cuffed behind my back, were starting to get the pins-and-needles.

The doctor came back in the room, followed closely by Elka.  She uncuffed my hands, and allowed me to shake my hands out before posing me on all fours like a dog.  Meanwhile the doctor was fiddling with some equipment.

I had to physically resist the urge to bring my hand up between my legs, to pet my aching sex, to rub my cunt against the doctor’s pant-covered leg like a dog in heat.

“You’re doing an excellent job,” the doctor told me as if he could read my mind, “It will only be a few more minutes.”

He affixed two clamps with small weights dangling from them to my erect nipples.  The pain was sharp at first and I wasn’t at all sure I could take it, but then it settled down into a dull ache that harmonized nicely with the ache in my clit.

“Ok,” he said, “Shall we get down to business?”  He slapped me hard across the backside with a suddenness and ferocity that made me cry out.

Just as I was starting to be really aware of the pain from the first blow, he slapped me again, just as hard, on the other ass cheek.  Elka looked on smiling as he beat me.  Pain and heat washed over my body as he spanked me without mercy.  I wept piteously, begging incoherently for him to stop, but he paid me no mind.  I don’t know how long he spanked me, but the next day I had bruises and stinging red welts all over my butt to remind me of the visit and to savor during the week.  Later I would masturbate while tracing the imprint of his fingers on my ass.

Finally it was done, and I was left a sobbing, sticky mess, my ass on fire.

In the meanwhile, Elka had taken a dildo from the cabinet.  It was black and realistically molded, way bigger than any toy I had at home.  She poured clear lube all over it.  “Like this?” she asked, “I hope you do because it is going straight up your ass.”

She pressed the lubed-up silicone cock against my asshole and I gasped.  The pressure of the huge dildo invading made me whimper, but to my surprise it wasn’t at all painful, it didn’t split me open or tear me apart; and after the initial shock of entry, the sensation felt amazingly, surprisingly good.  I felt myself humping back against the invading toy.

“That’s a good girl.” Elka’s hand felt soft on the small of my back as she slid her big black dick in and out of my hungry ass.

Meanwhile, the doctor had stepped out of his charcoal-colored slacks and was pulling off his white briefs.  His erect dick was on the shorter side, but exceedingly thick, with a bulbous scarlet head that was oozing clear precome.  He tore the wrapper off a latex condom and rolled it carefully down his shaft.

Elka shoved the dildo up my butt extra-vigorously, and I groaned involuntarily.  The doctor slapped me across the face, hard, first one cheek then the other.  It stung.  The clamps on my dangling tits swung and ached deliciously.

The doctor grabbed a fistful of my hair and jammed my face down on his cock.  I sucked him eagerly through the condom as he fucked my mouth.  I couldn’t really breathe, but I didn’t really care.  He was grunting and moaning as he slammed his engorged cock in and out of my mouth, and I could tell he was about to come.  Suddenly his body went rigid, and he pulled me hard into him so that my nose was buried in his prickly black pubic hair and his balls were pressed against my chin.  I sucked with everything I had, swirling my tongue all over the latex material covering his shaft.He growled, a long, drawn-out guttural animal noise, and shot off, filling the condom with his semen.  As his cock twitched spastically in my mouth, Elka took one long slippery wet finger, reached down between my thighs and oh-so-gently stroked my aching clitoris.

I came harder and longer and louder than I had ever come before.

I stood up on my knees and masturbated while the doctor disposed of the used condom and pulled his pants back on.  While I fingered my clit and dripping pussy, Elka hugged me from behind, alternately fondling my breasts and tugging fiercely on the nipple clamps until I came again, shaking and moaning.

Elka gently removed the dildo from my poor abused backside, and took off the nipple clamps and the collar around my neck, and led me to a small room with a shower stall where I cleaned up and changed back into my street clothes.

I was lost in a hazy cloud of endorphins as Elka led me down to hall to the reception area (a separate area from the waiting room, with its own exit to the street).  The doctor met me there.

“I think we made a good deal of progress this time.” I nodded enthusiastically.  My ass throbbed where it had been beaten and invaded, and my clit was still swollen and tender.  “Is next week at this time going to be good for you?”

Again I nodded, and he wrote down the date and time on a business card which I accepted with trembling hands.  “I think we are going to enjoy working together” he said, smiling amusedly but warmly.

I took the elevator down to the street, where it was still raining hard.  I was going to be late for work.  I headed uptown toward my office, ass cheeks still stinging in my panties, nipples sore and swollen in my bra, uptown through the rain toward real life and home and work and husband and dinner and bills and chores.  I was already counting the days until next weeks’ appointment.

3 Comments »

  1. Elsie Fan(ny) said

    It is nice to see a new story from you again. This one is kind of pleasantly weird, with good little plot twists and interesting details. Thanks.

  2. Tina said

    Having wiped my sticky fingers, I can say that I really enjoyed your story. Really! And now I have to go to work.

    Wish I had a doctor like that one.

  3. […] In Therapy […]

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