Life seemed to return to normal after the "dress shop incident." Teresa was happily married. Cheryl had finished college and had a good job. Then, one day about a year after the last incident, I returned home from work to find Maria sitting at the dining room table, sobbing with her head buried in her hands.
Someone at the mall had actually recognized her from the porno flick we had been forced to make. This stranger had actually come up to her and upon determining that she was 'Cinderella,' had proceeded to fondle her right there in the department store. A store employee had started to come to her aid, but when the man told the employee where he had seen Maria, the employee laughed and walked away. Maria pushed the man away and ran from the store in tears.
This incident seemed to bring back emotions that had been long repressed in her. We both agreed that it would be a good idea to talk to a professional about these feelings.
I made some inquiries, and found someone who had been counseling couples for over twenty years and had a good reputation. I made an appointment for both of us to see him.
I briefly described for him the ordeals we had endured. I told him of being abducted on our first date, of being blackmailed into making the porno movie, and of the dress shop incident. I did think it was strange that he suggested I bring the copy of the video we had been forced to make, but I figured he knew what he was doing.
The first few appointments were relatively uneventful. He didn't really say much. He just listened to what we had to say. That made what happened at our fourth meeting come as a complete shock.
He had a very well-appointed office in a large office building downtown. The receptionist was not at her desk when we arrived. The doctor himself met us, which he had not done before.
He suggested that Maria go in alone first. He told me he would make a point of leaving the intercom to the receptionist on, in order that I could hear what was going on.
Maria and our therapist entered the office alone and he shut the door. He had not said much at the earlier meetings, but now he had plenty to say.
Maria was "sexually repressed." She needed to "act out" to overcome these "neuroses," and thereby achieve "self-actualization."
He told her to stand up. She apparently did so. He told her to turn around, slowly. Momemts later, he commented on what a beautiful woman she was.
Apparently, the receptionist was already in the inner office. The doctor instructed her to take out the "first device" and insert it. Maria started to whimper, and I had to wonder what kind of therapy this was. What should I do?
Just then, on the intercom, the therapist instructed me to come in. I entered the room to see the receptionist pulling Maria's slacks down below her thighs. Accomplishing that, she pushed aside her panties and inserted a metal device into her pussy. The receptionist then told Maria to pull the pants back up.
The therapist instructed me to take Maria's hand and lead her on a walk outside around the building. The receptionist would follow behind us, carrying a remote contral device. I don't know why we didn't just end the therapy right there, but we didn't.
In the elevator going down to the lobby, the receptionist pointedly turned the dial on her control, and Maria squirmed and moaned. Another passenger joked that he would "have what she's having." Everyone laughed. I laughed, too, until I saw that Maria was trying not to cry.
Outside, we walked around the block. It was still the lunch hour, and the walkways were crammed with people. Many of them couldn't help stopping and staring at the pretty woman walking (or trying to walk) while in obvious passion.
I tried to lead her as quickly as possible back around to the building entrance. As we entered the building lobby, the receptionist turned her dial as high as it would go. Maria's screams of, "Oh, my God," were met with disapproving stares. Breathing heavily between her moans, she begged me to get her back to the office as quickly as possible.
Finally, we made it back to the office. Meeting us, the doctor informed us that we needed to confront our past in order to overcome it. "It won't be easy, but you will thank me later," he told us.
Motioning us into the inner office, we saw various bondage devices that had apparently been set up there while we were outside. The receptionist closed and locked the door behind us. "This will be for your own good," the doctor said. "Trust us."
