Fantasy Therapy 1

Fantasy Therapy

I set up 'Fantasy Therapy,' because it seemed to me there was a need for it. After many years of working with, and alongside women, I like to think that I understand them just a little. I claim no more than, 'just a little,' but after years of listening to problems and offering solutions, I gained quite a reputation as a good listener. However, it's not enough to be a good listener, it's maintaining and respecting the confidentiality of the person who has confided in you that is equally important.

The basic premise of "Fantasy Therapy," is that I give women the time to talk about their innermost fantasies and needs. The sort of role that once upon a time was played by the family doctor, priest, or wise older relative, but has now fallen into disuse. On the face of it, a simple thing, but nothing involved with the human mind is ever quite as simple as that. After much studying, reading, and just plain experience of life, I have come to some basic conclusions.

a) Women often sublimate their own needs and desires to that of their husbands, partners, or children.

b) While these feelings can be suppressed, sometimes for years, it can eventually lead to great unhappiness and frustration, which can manifest itself in various psychosomatic medical conditions.

c) Often the women are not even aware of some of the things they are suppressing, but listening and observation on the part of the therapist can often draw these out.

After much thought and deliberation, I concluded that something needed to be done, and set up, "Fantasy Therapy." For a modest fee, I would listen to, discuss at length and try to draw some conclusion with the subject. I do not refer to them as patients since I have no formal medical training, only experience of life. These are some of my cases.

Louise: Age 38 years old, about 5'5", short dark hair, slim to medium build, and very attractive. She goes to the gym on average three times a week. Has a good middle management job, two children, and is divorced.

Louise contacted me after hearing about my service from a friend. On her first consultation she was full of curiosity and asked lots of questions before settling down to discuss her problems.

'Hi, I'd like to know how this thing works and how you can help me?'

'It's quite simple really,' I said as I explained the idea to her. 'Some women have a very strong fantasy life, but many suppress their fantasies due to family, or relationships, etc.

However, these fantasies don't go away, even though it may seem like you have them under control. That can lead to all sorts of psychological problems, resentments, and sheer frustration.'

'Yes, I know exactly what you mean, please carry on.'

'What I provide is a release, a safety valve, which allows you to voice your fantasies out loud. A chance to admit them to yourself, and discuss them with another person who will not make judgements about you based on what you say.

My previous clients have found it far easier to talk things over with a stranger, rather than a friend, or relative. They don't have to see me again if they don't want to, or if they require follow-up sessions, they can be confident that anything they say to me is covered by my written confidentiality guarantee.'

'So, I just sit here and tell you my fantasies? Then what happens?' she asked.

'We go over them again, and discuss them as fully as possible. I try to draw as many details from you as I can to build up a clear, concise picture of your fantasy. Then, together, we try to see a way forward for you, whether you wish to continue as you are, or follow your fantasy to its logical conclusion.

'What if my fantasy is so strange that you're shocked and disgusted? How would you deal with that?'

'I've never heard anything that has made me react in that way. I'm pretty much shockproof, so please don't hold back on that score. Just tell me what your story is, and make it the truth. I can usually tell if you're making something up for shock value.' I added.

'Mmmm... you realise this is a sexual fantasy I'm thinking of?' she stated, hardly able to meet my eyes. 'It's not a fantasy about winning the lottery, giving up work, and going to live in a tropical paradise.'

'Of course I do,' I said reassuringly. 'I've never heard a fantasy from a woman that wasn't of a sexual nature. That's why you keep it hidden and repressed, as if it's something to be ashamed of.'

'So, it's not just me?' she asked, sounding relieved.

'Definitely not. No, every single one has had a sexual theme. You are not alone, you're not strange in any way, and it's all perfectly normal.'

'What happens if I get turned on when I'm telling you? Do you ask me to leave, throw me out?

'No, no, no!' I protested. 'I'd like to think I'm a bit more understanding than that. I would just encourage you to follow your own inclinations. After all, this is about allowing you to freely discuss your fantasies without inhibitions. Being sexually aroused is very common, and leads to other fantasies and hidden thoughts being revealed. Now, believe it or not, that's beneficial to you.

'OK, that seems clear enough. One more thing, what happens if

you

get turned on by my story?' she said, openly curious. 'After all, I'm a woman, you're a man and we're going to be discussing my sexual fantasies. It must affect you in some way.'

'Yes, I know what you mean. Funnily enough, you're not the first woman who's asked me that. If you promise not to tell,' I looked around in mock conspiratorial fashion, 'the truth is, every single woman who tells me her story turns me on.' I replied, trying to be as honest as possible. 'After all, I'm only human, but I have a very high self-control level, just like some people have a high pain threshold, so you're in no danger from me.'

'Mmm... that's interesting,' she said slowly, 'considering what I'm going to tell you. So, how do we begin?'

'You just tell me what's on your mind. Is that chair comfortable enough, or would you prefer to lie down on the couch?' I offered, and she looked round at the couch.

'I think the couch would be best - more relaxing,' came her reply, after a moment or two of thought.

'OK, just take off your shoes, and make yourself comfortable. Close your eyes if it helps you to visualise the fantasy,' I suggested. Louise got on the couch, the skirt riding up and showing a fair bit of her bare sun-tanned legs. Very nice legs I have to say. She closed her eyes, obviously thinking for a moment before speaking.

'I suppose I should go right back to the beginning. When I look back now I realise where it all went wrong as regards my marriage. He was my first love, almost a childhood sweetheart. We were too young, knew virtually nothing of the real world, and were unprepared for all the hazards and hardships of married life.

Things were fine when we first got married, but we gradually grew apart, simply because we were too young and inexperienced to know what we really wanted. I'm sure there were things wrong on both sides, but I know for me, he just wasn't capable of fulfilling my needs. He was perfectly adequate in the bedroom; no complaints about the amount of sex, it was the quality. Sure, he tried his best to be a great lover, and for most women he would be a dream partner, but as far as I was concerned he was just too damned nice.

You probably think I'm crazy, but the truth is I like a man to be a bit of a bastard in the bedroom. Not that I've had any experience with that in real life, but more and more over the years it's become what I fantasize about. I want a man to take me and control me, be in charge, make me his bitch, his slave, and my husband just wasn't able to do that. He couldn't even smack my bottom playfully when I asked him to do it. In truth, I really wanted to be dominated, used, abused, and made to do what

he

wanted. We were poles apart on that; he couldn't understand it at all.'

'Do you think this need was always in the background, or was it something you came to realise as you matured sexually?' I asked.

'I remember, when I was around 18 or 19, I was very "young" for my age and quite naïve about sex, watching a video about the Roman Empire, and there was a scene with beautiful slave-girls being auctioned in the market place. Some of them were whipped for not doing what they were told quickly enough, and I found that oddly disturbing.

I still lived at home at that time and I remember watching that bit over and over again when my parents weren't home. Eventually I forgot about it, but then one night, years later when I was married, the same film came on TV. I watched it again, and all those strange feelings came back to me, but this time, with maturity, I recognised the feelings for what they were - sexual excitement.

I remember being actually shocked by how helpless I was in the face of my sudden and raging lust. My husband was out somewhere with a friend, I was alone in the house, and just so incredibly turned on. I masturbated again and again while fantasising about being a slave and being whipped for disobedience to my master. In the days that followed I grew hornier each time I thought about it.

I fought it; I really tried, because I just wanted to be normal and not, "kinky," as I saw it back then, but the fantasies were stronger than me and I couldn't stop myself. I began to imagine different scenarios, but always with me as the weak and helpless slave being forced; rather willingly I have to admit, to service my master in any way he wanted. My fantasy world bled into my real world, and I tried to get my husband to be a bit more masterful and dominate me, but he just thought I was becoming a bit, "strange," as he saw it.

He wasn't prepared or able, psychologically to meet my growing needs. To cut a long story short, we grew even further apart, and eventually split up, then divorced,' she finished.

'Mmm... that's an interesting story Louise. Have you managed to fulfil your fantasies since the divorce?' I asked her.

'Oh dear - sadly, no. To tell the truth, I'm a little afraid of following it up. It's a big step from fantasising about it, to actually seeking someone out who will help me fulfil the fantasies. I also have the children to think about. I know I'm going to do it sooner rather than later, but I haven't found anyone to dominate me so far. Most men seem to have a problem with slapping a woman, or causing her pain,' she explained sadly.

'

Really? I would have no problem with that at all if that's what the woman really wants; after all, it's just a form of foreplay, isn't it?' I reasoned. 'So, there must be others out there happy to help you too.'

'So, you wouldn't have any problem being dominant with a woman like me?' she asked.

'None whatsoever.'

'Look, telling you what I fantasise about has gotten me excited enough, don't make it worse by saying you'd have no problem doing it.' She smiled enigmatically.

'Sorry Louise, perhaps we should move on?' I said, trying to change the direction the conversation was taking. 'Tell me what your current fantasy is all about?'

'Well... although I haven't fulfilled my fantasy yet, I've begun to prepare myself for when it happens. I've bought some fantasy clothing, from a website catering for slaves and submissive women. I get dressed up in those, usually on the weekend when the kids go to their father, and it's very, very exciting to see myself dressed as a slave girl, or a submissive, fetish bitch.

I imagine being ordered to do this, that, and whatever, being humiliated by my slave-master, serving his every need, no matter how kinky. I even spank myself with a paddle I bought, but great as that is, I know having someone else do it would be ten times better.'

'Do you find dressing up helps you to channel your thoughts more powerfully?' I asked.

'Oh yes, I can virtually feel myself become another woman when I dress up in them. A much freer, liberated woman, with no inhibitions.'

'Tell me Louise, do these outfits happen to be in that large bag you brought with you?' I asked, pointing to a shopping bag she had left with her coat beside the door. She looked slightly embarrassed.

'Hmm... yes... I thought you might want to see them,' she explained.

'Very well. Go on then, let me see what you've brought.' I had no sooner said it then she slipped off the couch and came back with the bags.

'This first outfit is my slave girl one. It's completely see through so my master, when I get one, can see my body at all times. When I'm wearing it you can see everything. Not only does it leave my breasts exposed, but the harem pants are open-crotch too, which means I'm always available to be touched, or more.'

She laughed, but it was more with embarrassment than any real amusement, I felt. I noticed her breathing had become faster and shallow - I knew showing me the outfits had excited her even more.

'That's lovely Louise, you must look wonderful wearing that, and what about the other one?' I said.

'This is my dark and kinky one. The first one was my slave girl outfit for when I'm being a good little slave, all submissive and compliant, but this one is for when I'm being a little brat and need to be subjugated and punished. It's got a black leather corset, tiny black panties, black stockings, black patent high heel shoes, a slave collar, and a whip and paddle to punish me when required.' She withdrew each item from the bag to illustrate - I could hear the excitement rising in her voice.

'Well Louise, that's a couple of great outfits - I can see why you'd feel different and more sexual when you're wearing them. However, you never got round to telling me your latest fantasy, just the clothes you wear when thinking of it. Shall we get back to that?' I suggested. She said nothing, but was obviously thinking about something.

'Louise,' I prompted, 'shall we carry on, or do you feel you've said enough for today?'

'No, no, I've lots more to tell you,' she said slowly, 'but I was just thinking, maybe it would help me be less inhibited in telling my fantasy if I was dressed up in one of the outfits? What do you think?'

'Perhaps, but I have to tell you Louise, we are getting onto very dangerous ground for me. I'm your therapist, I don't want anything coming back to haunt me in years to come. It could be misconstrued that being your therapist, I took unfair advantage of you when you were in a vulnerable position. I would need you to sign a disclaimer stating that, for the purpose of your therapy, you have offered to dress in the style of your fantasy, and wish to act it out. If you're happy to do that, then I have no problem with you wearing one of the costumes.'

She readily agreed, and signed the disclaimer form I produced from a drawer in my desk. With that done she seemed to take on a new enthusiasm.

'Oooh, I'm so excited. Which one do you want me to wear?'

'I'll leave that choice to you.' I said. 'Ask yourself, do you feel passive and submissive, or do you want to be dominated, forced to submit in this fantasy you're going to tell me?'

'OK, I'll just surprise you then,' and lifting all the items, she went into the bathroom to change, a few minutes late she emerged wearing her black outfit, clutching the shopping back to her chest. She came over beside the couch and laid the bag down, tidily out of the way. When she turned back to me I was surprised to see her breasts were completely exposed.

'Bloody hell Louise, I didn't realise that corset would show so much,' I said, taken a little aback.

'It's an under the bust corset, designed to restrain the body, but not hide anything, she explained to me.

'Well... it's working, it's not hiding anything, and neither are those panties,' I exclaimed. She seemed to like my scrutiny of her and her outfit, as I looked her up and down.

'Do you like it?' she asked looking a little anxious.

'What's not to like? You look fabulous!' I offered truthfully.

'Thank you. Just one more thing - you have to put this collar round my neck and buckle it tightly at the back.' She gave me the broad leather collar, and turned her back, lifting up her hair. I buckled the collar about her neck, making sure it was tight enough to suit her. Her perfume was subtle, her proximity unnerving. When I finished, she turned, her bare breasts almost brushed my chest and looking me directly in the eyes said, 'Good, now I'm your bitch.'

'What?' I gasped out.

'This is my collar of obedience.' she explained. 'You've put it on me, so I'm your slave until I take it off. I'll do anything you tell me while I'm wearing it, and if I don't, you have the absolute right to punish me in any way you see fit.' She handed me the whip and the paddle. 'Don't be too nice,' she said, matter of factly.

The old saying, 'absolute power corrupts absolutely,' came to mind as she stood submissively before me. The thought of having this beautiful woman standing there in front of me, half naked, willing to do anything I might say was a powerful aphrodisiac. Although not something I had bargained for, what could I do, I asked myself? I had promised to help her fulfil her fantasies, but I had meant in a third hand sort of way, leading and guiding her to her ultimate goal.

Suddenly I was confronted by the reality of the situation; a beautiful, sensual woman, dressed for sex, not to mention obviously aroused and ready for sex. Her perfume, heady and exciting filled my senses, her beautiful bare titties, just inches from my chest.

'Wait a minute,' I said, my last remaining shreds of ethics rapidly falling apart. 'I thought you were going to tell me your latest fantasy? Suddenly you're my slave - what happened?'

'This

is

my latest fantasy, and so far it's all gone exactly as I imagined. When I made an appointment to come and tell you about my fantasies, I began to fantasise about what might happen when I was telling you. I know that sounds crazy, but I knew I would get really excited by confiding in you, and I am. So here we are, right in the middle of my latest fantasy. Please don't let me down, help me fulfil it. Please!' she begged, getting closer still, until her boobies were pressed against me.

'Right, but let me get this straight in my own mind before we go any further. You want me to dominate you, and use you in

any

way I see fit to help you fulfil your fantasy. Is that right?' I asked, trying to get some parameters for what I knew was about to happen. My resistance was shot to hell.

'Yes, that's right. I know it's asking a lot, but I really feel it would help me get on with the rest of my life. I'm kind of, "on hold," right now because I don't know which way to turn.'

'I don't know Louise,' I said, still trying to retain some composure, 'you're a beautiful woman and the offer is very tempting, but it might destroy my objectivity and end up with me not really helping you in the way I intended. I'm only supposed to be listening to your fantasies, not becoming part of them.'

'Yes, but surely part of your therapy is to help and encourage your subjects to fulfil their fantasies if they wish to take it further than just fantasising about it?' she countered.

'

Yes, that's true, I have to admit, but I'm just not sure about this at all?

'Please, I really need this, don't make me beg, it just makes me even hornier humiliating myself like this.' I knew I was losing the debate, but by then my reasoning was half hearted to say the least.

'So, even my reluctance is a sexual act for you?' I asked.

'Yes, it excites me beyond belief. I can get virtually any man I want, but having to beg for it like this is humiliating and degrading, and that excites me

so

much.'

My last shred of feigned reluctance was blown away. I thought for a moment, trying to think how to approach this, to give her the ultimate experience. Not that I was greatly experienced in this line myself, but I had read a bit about it, and had some minor encounters.