Shrin

I'm not sure about "next time," what "next time" means or what it will bring. I don't know if Biederman is sincere, saying he's going to throw me in with his prison group. I wonder about the movies, too, what that will be.

I go to Dr. Joe's office for my session. What a laugh. I should get paid, instead of him. He's in the back hallway, seeing his last client out the door, when I enter his office. I close that door and take off my clothes and fold them neatly. I've got a couple of Biederman's clamps with me, and I put a clover clamp on my clit, just past the end of the vertical hood piercing over my clit. Dr. Joe comes back in and as usual, sees me naked with just my piercings, my heels, my hose, and he blushes and slams the door. He comes over and sits down and won't look at me at first. The clover clamp is heavy and has a hard tough spring that puts a lot of pressure on my clit. Which is throbbing now a little, which makes the clamp jangle against my piercing now and then. He glances at it, then away, hastily writing notes. I move over to him and lace my fingers together, bracing my wrists on his left shoulder as he writes, and I slide my legs apart slowly so I have one on each side of his left leg. He stops writing, but doesn't look up. I blow in his ear.

A knock on the back doorway, a second rap, and Biederman comes in and locks the door. He looks at me and sits down nearby. He's here to talk about the next movie. I'm still leaning on Dr. Joe's shoulder, moving my pussy back and forth on top of his thigh slowly so the clamp catches on his pants leg and tugs back and forth. I look at Biederman and finally put my right arm around poor Dr. Joe's back, and I lean into him, and take his right hand in my left one, and I pull his hand down and behind me, to hold my bottom. He finally moves his head and closes his eyes, and Dr. Joe's hands both cup my bottom, squeezing tightly, pulling them apart, crunching them back together eagerly, hot, excited. Biederman watches a while, and I watch him, and I slide down enough to straddle Dr. Joe's leg and make it wet from my pussy, and I lean forward while he keeps playing with my bottom. He likes my bottom a lot. I watch Biederman.

"There's another one who wants to play," he finally says, and Dr. Joe sighs and squeezes my bottom one last time, hard, his fingers digging in, then he pats my bottom. I sit up, but I stay on his leg, my right hand lying on his shoulder gently.

"Who?" says Dr. Joe, turning his head halfway towards Biederman, if though if he doesn't look at him completely, he will go away.

"Aldman."

"Jesus! Aldman? Not Aldman!"

"Who's that?" I ask. I'm leaning towards Dr. Joe again, moving my nipple back and forth to catch on his tie clip. One of his hands cups my bottom again and strokes it. I like that they are both dressed, and I'm naked.

"Runs a clinic," says Biederman. "The one with your therapy group?" I ask, amused. He lifts an eyebrow at me, then shrugs.

"No. But he's got theories about nymphos."

"You have theories about nymphos," I point out to Biederman, who grins. He's a tall, thin man with thinning hair. What is it with thinning hair on these guys? I wonder. He likes the casual look, which means his Ralph Lauren is casual. He actually wears Oxfords at times. Who wears those? He pats his lap. I stand up, slowly.

"So. Have you been bad?" he asks me, patting his lap again. I stand by Dr. Joe a little while longer.

"Bad? I thought you liked my bad. My bad is good." I finally walk over to Biederman. "So what are his theories?" I straddle Biederman, my legs on each side of his, and I put my hands around his neck. He takes one of my nipples in his mouth and bites, lightly. I lean back a little, and he puts one of his hands down, sliding it down, down, just to my clit, and finds the clover clamp.

"I wondered where that got to." He twists it suddenly, and I close my eyes and still for a moment. I open my eyes. He's grinning, looking at me. "I should put these everywhere on you," he says. I push closer to him so the clamp rubs against his crotch. His head goes down and he bites my other nipple, a little harder, until I suck in breath. He finally pulls off the clamp, then has me turn around on his lap. I sit on his lap, facing Dr. Joe, my legs on each side of Biederman's. I put my arms up and behind his neck, my fingers in the remnants of his graying brown hair. He keeps one of his hands in my crotch, rubbing back and forth gently on my clit. With his other hand, he fumbles through some notes.

Aldman thinks a true nympho is rare, I hear. He thinks she needs to get a resistance factor so she can change. I roll my eyes. Aldman believes a nympho can be worn out and have a revulsion to sex. Or, she can associate pain with sex. Either way, she stops being a nympho. I hoot at that.

"Either way, I'd just keep going."

Biederman laughs and slips a finger inside me, still talking to Dr. Joe. I want more than just one finger inside me.

Biederman had sounded out Aldman about nymphos. The old guy is in his late 50's and eager to try out theories. They are all eager to try out theories. Biederman, it seems, earnestly told Aldman about my sad case of sluttiness. Aldman, in turn, was as earnest to help find my cure. I snort when I hear that.

Biederman and Dr. Joe talk for a while and make plans. I play with Biederman's cock for a while, then his balls, then he finally pulls me onto his lap and puts his cock in my pussy. "Next time, I'm going in your ass," he tells me harshly as he grunts in my ear.

I meet them at Dr. Joe's the next afternoon, and the three of us ride in his car up to Aldman's. Dr. Joe is nervous and keeps clearing his throat. The drive takes an hour.

The parkway into the clinic is pretty. Big green lawns, stately oak trees, big iron gate and fence. I notice the gate. Biederman is excited. He's been talking the whole way, blah blah blah, because he convinced Aldman to film my cure. Now if it's as exciting as Biederman hopes, he can sell the movie. I've had to put the wig and contacts on again, therefore.

We drive up to a very pleasant manor, New England style. We enter. Biederman introduces us, and I'm hustled off right away to a private room which, I am told, is an honor because it's next to Aldman's office. I bet.

The room is nice. I'm supposed to change into an examining gown. I just take off my clothes and fold them neatly. I make sure my wig is nice and check my makeup. I do the heavy eye look the way Fredo taught me. I keep on the hose and slip my heels back on. There's a rap on the door finally, from what is supposed to be Aldman's office. The door opens, and there's an older man, small and bubbly with a kindly look, gray hair with some fine remaining streaks of dark gray on the sides and one stubborn darker streak on top. At least he has hair. He's wearing a white lab coat and has pens neatly poking from the top of the pocket. He's got a tie on, black laced shoes, dark slacks. Polished.

Biederman and Dr. Joe are right on his tail, and so is an orderly, a massive white guy who looks like he's never missed a night at the gym in his life. His name is Sven. Can you believe that? Sven. People actually name their children Sven. And he's blonde, a really pale blonde, tan, blue eyes, and really big muscles. And tall. White short sleeved t-shirt, white pants, white shoes that are probably great for running after nuts and chasing them down. I look him up and down and he does the same to me. I'm naked, after all. He should look.

Dr. Aldman tsks tsks and motions to Sven to shut the door. Sven does, then I swear, stands at the door, crosses his arms over his chest, and does the bodyguard look.

"This is most interesting, most interesting," Aldman mutters. He sits in a chair, far from me, I note, and pulls out a tablet and starts writing. "And why is it, young woman," he asks after a time of scribbling, "you felt you must take off your clothes? Are you warm?"

"I'm hot," I snicker. Biederman turns his head to hide a smile. Dr. Joe looks frozen.

"But why, young woman – " he glances at the chart, then at me, " – Tanya," he starts again, "did you do this? Do you think other people do this thing?"

"No."

"Then why?"

I shrug. I arch my back and walk around the room a little. "I like it." I shrug again.

There's a loveseat in the room, so I sit on it and hook one leg over the arm, swinging my leg back and forth. I lean back. It gives Sven a good view up my legs.

Aldman writes furiously for a while, then finally turns to Biederman and Dr. Joe. They whisper, look at me. Dr. Joe shakes his head "no" a few times, but Biederman, I notice, is looking excited. I flick my clit ring a few times with my finger, idly, staring at Sven the whole time with a half-smile.

Aldman stands up finally. "We try that," he says, and leaves the room. Sven follows. Biederman and Dr. Joe stay.

"So what's the deal?" I ask.

"Some pain and some aversion therapy," Biederman says.

"Sounds good."

Aldman isn't a bad guy. He tries hard. I'll be here a week, and Aldman takes me into his office right after Dr. Joe leaves. Biederman is staying. Aldman talks to me about some rules. He rings a bell and Sven shows up. Aldman tells me I have to put on a gown, at least until I get to the observation room.

"What's that?"

"Just a place where I want to observe."

Well, that says a lot. No kidding. I wrap the cotton gown around me and follow Sven down the hall, past a roomful of people who are playing games and watching TV. I wave. One of them waves back. We go down a side corridor, then enter a brightly lit room with a table, two chairs, and a box of items. There is a big mirror on one side of the room which, of course, is where they observe. I wave at it, too.

Sven leaves. A woman comes in the room. Another lab coat. She pulls out the items in the box and puts them on the small table. I toss the gown onto the chair and sit on it. She doesn't even blink. You have to give her credit.

We do a few tests. She says a word, I say a word it reminds me of. We look at the objects, I tell her what they make me think of. They are pretty basic things: a jump rope. A ball. Doll. A big plastic hammer. Several odds and ends that represent basic games or chores or jobs in daily lives. I answer; she writes. Everything is pretty normal. She glances at the mirror briefly, then leaves the room.

Biederman told me about this part. They are going to leave me in the room for a while. They want to see what I do if I get bored. I don't plan to get bored.

I am aching some, though, with The Need. Jump rope first. I sit on one of the chairs and prop one of my legs on the table top. The handle of the jump rope slides into my pussy fast. I'm making sure that I face the mirror. I move it back and forth a few times. It really isn't big enough or long enough. I try the handle of the plastic hammer, but it's too flimsy. I finally flip the table over so the legs are in the air, wipe off the end with the gown, and, looking at the mirror and smiling, I use my fingers to pull my pussy open, and I slide down onto the table leg. It's round and hard and smooth and all the same width. It's standard God bless it size all the way down, with no little knob on the end. It was made to sit on carpet and that's what it had been doing until I turned it over. I had to brace myself against the wall for support, but I lowered myself onto the table leg and fucked it and watched the mirror and smiled, knowing they are watching.

After a while, they get me and take me back to my room. I toss the gown on the floor as soon as I get there and lie on the cot. Aldman comes in after a while. He looks sad. He sits on a chair beside me and talks about how I am a nympho and what can we do about that. I tell him I don't want to do anything about it, I'm fine with it. He shakes his head. I wonder to myself if I can get his pants unzipped by the middle of the week? Or if it will take the whole week?

I had missed the last bit. "What?"

"A little shock therapy," he repeats.

"On my head? Are you nuts?"

"No no." He repeats it again. I succeed in not laughing or grinning, but it's hard. We're going for pain therapy first. Goodie.

The next morning I'm walked down a different corridor. Sven is leading me again. I figure I'll have Sven by tonight. We go into a room that has a leather chair that is angled, like a dentist's chair. I toss the gown onto a chair so I'm naked, and I sit on the chair. Sven frowns, but doesn't make me wear the gown. He straps me to the chair. The leather part is warm, but the straps are cold on my skin. I ask him if I can put my hands over my head. He doesn't know how to answer that. He leaves my arms unstrapped until a nurse comes in, and they confer. She leaves the room. He straps my legs separately. The bottom part of the chair separates, I see now. He taps a button on the floor with his foot, and the two legs of the chair slowly and mechanically pull apart, me with them. He adjust straps and tightens here, loosens a little there. He straps my waist. The nurse returns, shrugs. Sven pulls my arms over my head so that one wrist is tucked in next to one elbow; the other wrist is beside the other elbow. He straps the arms together, then to the chairs. He has another strap across my chest, above the breasts.

"Hey Sven," I say, just before he leaves. He turns. Not much of a talker. "Tonight. My room. You and me." I flutter my eyelashes. Is that a faint hint of a smile? I think so.

Nurse whatever comes back in the room with Aldman and Biederman, who has set up his video camera. Got to catch every nuance of technique. Aldman uses the floor pedals and adjusts the chair. He lifts it up until I'm just below his chest height. The chair flattens out a little more. "There must be no resistance possible," he explains to Biederman. Incredible. Did this guy never hear about how exciting this stuff could be? He frowns at my nakedness, but assures the nurse, who doesn't seem to care one way or the other, that this will pass with the treatment and cure. Sure it will.

He isn't sure what to do at first about the clit piercing. He can remove it, Biederman tells him, but Aldman finally decides that no, it can possibly help. He taps the floor pedals, pulls the legs of the chair outward more, checks my straps. The chair has only a slight dip at the butt area, to make it a little more comfy, but otherwise is flat, with the two legs spread out as far as possible. The nurse dabs goo on the patches, places them on my skin: inner thighs, pelvis, above the clit, around it. "We start simply," Aldman explained. Shoot. That means we have to wait for the good stuff.

Biederman checks the sighting on the camera and stays near it. We don't want to lose good footage. Aldman nods solemnly at the nurse, who turns on the juice. Very weak. I am disappointed. I can barely feel muscles moving. It's like an ultra kind of ultrasound.

We try twice more with tiny increases. Biederman moves over to Aldman, whispers. Aldman frowns but finally nods, motions to the nurse, and they fiddle with the patches. Some are removed, more are added. Some are bigger. One is wrapped around my clit. One is wrapped around the clit ring itself. Several are grouped around the base of the clit. More on the inside of my thighs. Aldman steps back, nods. Nurse flips on the power, then ups it a little. I feel some tremors, nothing much. She increases it a little more. Some quivers. Aldman's pager goes off, probably because I saw Biederman punching in a phone number. Aldman leaves the room. Biederman asks the Nurse for some water and assures her he will stay right with me. They leave, and he moves the power up more. I feel it now.

He's not in the camera frame, only I am, the patches with their wires showing clearly. He moves the dial up again, and I feel my muscles rippling now, steadily, like little ocean waves. He grins at me, then flips the dial up another notch. I can hear a slight hum, and I feel more rippling, stronger. The dial goes up again, then again, then one more time, and now my muscles are contracting stronger and stronger. I can feel a thrumming steady on my clit ring, vibrating down to the thick nerve that runs through my clit, and it makes me orgasm. I moan. Biederman ups the power again. He licks his lips, but now I'm thinking only of the power down there. There is current jumping to my muscles, making me twitching, forcing me to pulse and contract, twinging, rippling, and the ocean waves are angry and crashing now. He moves a switch or two, and I feel more intense current around my clit and on the clit ring itself, and I moan. Biederman has locked the door. I don't know how he's keeping the nurse away and I don't care.

"Oh God," I say, and the damn man walks back to the current box and fiddles with it again, and I feel more power surging into me. "Mmm" I say, turning my head sideways into my arm. My body is a slight sheen of sweat on it now. I can hear noise from Biederman's area, and I feel – I feel the crashing, roiling waves, coursing around my pussy, drawing it up and pushing it back, clinching, relaxing in fast, tight waves. "Oh God PLEASE!" I shout suddenly, twisting my head, and I hear Biederman laugh. There's more, and more, and my clit ring and clit are jumping and twitching with lives of their own now. He's laughing, and I feel more power, and I moan. "Oh God please, please," I beg, and I struggle, I really try, to heave up my hips, to close my legs around something that will give me more release, and he laughs and laughs. I finally hear a ringing, and then realize it's his cell phone, and then notice that the power is slowly draining, because he has lowered the dials. Somehow, I think, he got somebody to pull Aldman and the nurse away for a while, and now they are coming back. I shivered, my eyes closed, wishing it had gone on a little longer. Biederman unlocks the door and sure enough, Aldman and the nurse come briskly back in. Aldman is a little surprised at the sweat on my body, but views it as a good sign. I am unstrapped finally but told I will have this treatment again later today, at least twice more. I can hardly wait.

Back in my room, I eat my lunch, then lie on my cot. Sven comes into the room to get my tray, but he closes the door and locks it. I smile, but he's a bit of a disappointment. He tells me that some guy named Evan will be on the floor that night. Here's hoping that Evan is better.

The second treatment that afternoon was a little stronger, but Aldman was there the whole time. I basically just lie there the whole time. The second treatment, he ups the power more, and I quiver a little. Finally, he has me taken back to my room. He and Biederman, he tells me, will consult about my particular case. I hope Biederman can talk him into more.

I don't see the new guy. I fall asleep. The next morning, there's yet a different guy who takes me down to the treatment room. He leers at me the whole time. I toss off the gown, get in the dentist-looking chair. New guy is Norris. I don't know who names their kid Norris, either. Norris has a definite sadistic streak in him, which I appreciate. He's rough with the straps and ties them tightly, which I like. Norris appreciates that I appreciate his finesse, and does some more leering along with some touching. I leer back.

Biederman comes in with Aldman. There's a new nurse whose body looks square. If Patton was a woman, he would have been this nurse. She is big but it's not fat. She's big. Heavy. Strong. No nonsense. Old style starched whites and crisp manner with a glare to match. She checks Norris' work and nods approval. Norris has put my arms over my head again like they did yesterday. Nobody moves them.

Chair legs go out, out. Out a little more. Nurse Patton firmly presses on electrode patches on my inner thighs. She frowns. Aldman and Biederman step in. More electrode patches down the insides of my legs, to the curve of my crotch, right up to the lips. Different colors of wires. Different areas will have different strengths, I hear. Fine with me. Biederman wraps my clit himself. There are patches on the flesh where my legs and crotch join, on the clit ring itself, above the clit, even underneath around the anus and where the cheeks of my bottom meet.