The Society Ch 01 3

"Miss Taylor? Dr. Brown will see you now."

Summer had been sitting in the waiting room for twenty-five minutes, all alone. There was only room for two people at most in the small room, anyway. She hadn't seen anyone come out, so she wondered what exactly she was waiting for, or why the Doctor needed a receptionist with so little business.

From what Kristi said, the door into the office was a gateway to a whole new life. She would see about that.

There was something odd about the receptionist, whose name tag introduced her as Melody. She was professional enough, but normally at doctor's office the staff was very prim and proper. Melody's blouse, a size too small, hugged her large breasts. It looked too tight for all the buttons to close, and a deep valley of cleavage was displayed. Summer thought that men would probably really like the effect, but Dr. Brown, her friend Kristi had told her, saw mostly women.

Kristi had been raving about Dr. Brown for months. And indeed, Kristi was a different woman since she'd started seeing Dr. Brown. Where once she had been mopey, now Kristi was energetic and cheerful. She'd gotten a better job, although Summer was muddy on the details, and that had let her afford a fancy new apartment downtown. "I believe in myself now," Kristi told her. "And when you believe in yourself, anything can happen. And probably will!" All, reportedly, because of Dr. Brown.

"There's got to be a downside," said Summer.

"Well, you have to leave your old hang-ups behind," Kristi said. "You have to embrace change. You have to be willing to be a new person."

Apparently, you also had to have a blood test and a brain scan, because she had both before Dr. Brown had agreed to see her. During the brain scan they'd shown her pictures of her own paintings. It was very strange. But Summer wanted to embrace change.

She opened the door and walked into the office on the other side. A man sat behind a large mahogany desk. She had always assumed, since Dr. Brown saw only women, that he was a she. He waved her to a chair. He was a handsome, older man, with gray at the temples and a fine, chiseled face.

The door closed behind her.

"Summer Taylor, yes?" asked Dr. Brown.

"Yes," she said.

"It says here you've been down. Not sure of your place in the world. Do you want to have a place, Summer?"

"That's not quite how I'd put it."

"How would you put it?"

"I want to be sure of my purpose. I want to know that I should devote myself utterly to it, that someday I'll be a famous artist if I just keep plugging away."

"I don't know if you'll be a famous artist if you just keep plugging away, Summer. If you've come for something that specific, I can't provide it. We can work on making you sure of your purpose, however, if you're open as to what, exactly, that purpose is."

"But I want to be an artist," she said.

"Then go out of here and paint, or draw, or whatever it is you do," said Dr. Brown. "Study with artists. I can't help you. Maybe you'll succeed, maybe you won't. Are you sure that's what you want to be?"

"No," she admitted. "If I was sure, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't need to be here. It's that certainty that I want."

"Even if you gain certainty that your purpose, your place, is something else?"

She paused. "I suppose."

Dr. Brown took out something silver and shiny, and placed it on the table. It was a chain, with a small charm on it. The charm bore a letter S, in what she assumed were crystals. Dr. Brown had the same symbol on a ring on his hand. She recognized it. Kristi had the same thing on a bracelet. Dr. Brown leaned back. The silence extended.

"What's that?"

"Place. Purpose. Certainty," Dr. Brown said.

"It looks like a bracelet to me."

"It could be worn around the ankle, as well," said Dr. Brown.

"This is very weird." Summer stood up. "I'm going to leave."

"That is fine," said Dr. Brown. "Certainty isn't for everyone. Some prefer the unknown."

"Are you saying that little thing will make me certain of my future as an artist?"

Dr. Brown shook his head. "I told you I couldn't give you that. You have talent. I've spent the last half-hour looking at your work online. This is not about that. It is about the things you said you wanted. Certainty, place, and purpose. As I say, it's not for everyone."

Summer sat back down. "And you're saying that if I put that on, I'll have those things? It's some kind of magical amulet?"

"No. It's not magical at all. I'm saying that if you have those things, you'll want to put it on. And that they are obtainable, if you'll do exactly as I say."

Summer sighed. What did she have to lose? She shrugged. "Okay. If it gets too weird, I'm leaving."

"It's going to get weird."

"But not too weird."

Dr. Brown shrugged. "You're an odd person. The technical term we use for your type is beta-four, indicated by a number of critical genetic markers, and a pattern of brain activity. Beta-fours make up less than one percent of the population."

"I see. And what does being a beta-four mean?"

Dr. Brown continued. "You're a very sexual person, and bring up sex, and men, on a regular basis. Your art consists mostly of either nudes, or flora whose forms somehow resemble sexual body parts, and you react to your own work erotically. Indeed, the part of your brain that regulates sex is three times as active as a normal brain, even with no stimulation whatsoever. In spite of all this, you haven't had a serious relationship for three years, and have gone only two dates in the last twelve months."

"Three," she corrected.

"One of them was with someone you already had decided you were incompatible with, so that you could stay 'in practice.' Two real dates."

"Should you be telling me things Kristi told you?"

"I have her consent," Dr. Brown said. "Are you ready to begin, Summer?"

"Begin what?"

"Following directions, so that we can move in pursuit of place, certainty, and purpose."

She was too fascinated to leave. She'd told Kristi about the 'practice' date, but not about what she'd been thinking while it was going on. "I guess."

"Yes, or no, Summer."

"Yes."

"Good. Take your clothes off."

"What?"

"You heard me. Take your clothes off. My numbers show that you have an exhibitionism score of 97, out of a possible 100. The average woman's score is in the thirties. You like to show off. So take your clothes off."

Summer got up, thinking about leaving. 97. What did that mean? So she had a few fantasies about taking her clothes off, had worn a few skimpy Halloween costumes, what did that mean? She turned to go.

"I am watching," Dr. Brown said to her back.

That should make her want to leave even more. It was so very inappropriate.

I should report him, that's what.

"Yes," Dr. Brown said, "I think you will wonder what would have happened, for the rest of your life."

Had she thought it after he said it, or before. She wasn't sure. After, she thought. He was right, though. Kristi seemed so happy, and she had warned Summer that therapy was likely to be unconventional.

Impetuously, she lifted her dress over her head and tossed it on the chair she'd been sitting on.

"Very nice, Summer. And lovely choice of underwear. It is the kind of underwear a woman wears hoping it will be seen."

Her bra was black and lacy, and matched the thong she wore over a garter belt. Her stockings were black as well. The dress had a hem long enough that no one would know she wasn't wearing pantyhose.

"Beta-fours generally live relatively unhappy lives, unfortunately," Dr. Brown explained. "Occasionally, when they get in a relationship with Alpha-threes, or Alpha-fives, they feel somewhat fulfilled. Alpha-sevens, while in theory their ideal mates, are generally so acculturated to act contrary to their nature that those relationships often end in failure. It is, in fact, very difficult for a single partner to keep Beta-fours happy. As a result, they often go to one or another extreme: they either cut themselves off from sexual contact almost entirely because they find it unfulfilling, as you have done, or they engage in self-destructively promiscuous behavior."

She'd never done that last thing. Kristi had gone through quite a phase, once, though. "You're thinking of my friend. Not me."

"Beta-fours often end up forming friendships with other beta-fours," Dr. Brown explained. "Why are you standing there in your underwear, Summer, while we have this conversation?"

"Because you told me too," she said, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice. He wasn't going to pin that on her.

"You like doing what you're told, don't you, Summer? When you go on dates, you hope the man will take charge, am I right?"

"Well, yes."

"Have any done so?"

She shook her head.

"How about Albert Blaise, who you saw two years ago."

"He was pushy."

Dr. Brown smiled. "So when someone did try to take charge, you rejected them, because what sort of man simply assumes he's in charge on a first date? But when they don't you've reject them because those first dates are, shall we say, blah. And so there are never any second dates, and never will be. Sit down."

"Never will be? I thought you were supposed to help me, not tell me life is going to be awful."

"Patience, Summer." He pressed a button on his desk.

She expected him to say something, but he was silent. She didn't know what to say. Melody opened the door, and entered.

"Melody, what type are you?" Dr. Brown asked.

"I'm a beta-four, doctor," Melody said.

"Are you happy?"

"Yes."

"Sexually fulfilled? Taken care of, relationship-wise?"

"Oh, yes."

"What type is Kristi?"

"She's a beta-four, too, doctor."

"Does she seem happy to you?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Very good, Melody."

"Will that be all, Doctor?"

"One moment." Dr. Brown turned to Summer, and said, "Stand up, please."

Summer stood up, not sure where this was going, but pleased that beta-fours, whatever they were, could indeed find happiness.

"What do you think of Summer's outfit, Melody?"

Melody gave her the once over. "It's very nice, Dr. Brown. Many men would love to see a woman dressed like that. And she's a very pretty woman." Melody looked Summer in the eye and repeated, "You're a very pretty woman."

"Thank you, Melody."

Melody turned and left, closing the door behind her.

"What was that about?" asked Summer, sitting down again.

"You like being seen. Melody saw you."

"Oh." She had liked Melody looking her over, although she hadn't admitted it to herself until now. She wasn't attracted to Melody, exactly, although she appreciated the daring way Melody dressed.

"So, there's plenty of hope. Remove your bra, Summer."

"Excuse me?"

"I believe you heard me."

"I'm not going to remove my bra."

"Perhaps," said Dr. Brown. "And then when you leave here, you'll decide either that I'm pushy, when we've only just begun therapy, or lament that I failed to get you to follow directions. You like to follow directions. You like to show off. If you take your bra off, you'll have followed directions, and you'll have shown me, an almost perfect stranger, your body. It's exactly what you want, on both counts. The question is, are you brave enough to get what you want?"

She stared at him. He tapped his fingers on the desk, passing time.

Not quite believing she was doing it, she reached behind her back for the clasp.

"Stand up, first, Summer. You're bent over, hardly showing yourself off to your best advantage."

She felt the heat rise in her face, but she knew he was right. Why she cared, she wasn't sure. "This is very inappropriate," she said. But she stood anyway, and a moment later, dropped her bra on top of her dress.

"Hands clasped behind your neck," Dr. Brown said.

In for a penny, in for a pound. She did as he told her, conscious of how the motion not only left her with no hands to cover herself with but thrust her chest out as well.

"Have I described you accurately, Summer? That you like to follow directions, and you like to show off?"

Dammit. "Yes," she mumbled.

"Louder, please? I notice your nipples have hardened, although it is warm in the office, and your panties appear damp, and you are showing fewer signs of anxiety, standing practically naked in front of me, then you did sitting in the chair in the office with your clothes on."

"Yes," she said, slightly louder.

"You said this was inappropriate," Dr. Brown continued. "But you won't tell, will you, Summer?"

Summer shook her head. She couldn't deny it was interesting. In fact, memory of this entire session would be serious masturbation material when she got home. The light glinted off the crystals of Dr. Brown's ring, and made her curious.

"What does the S stand for?" she asked. "And why does Kristi have one?"

"Because Kristi has chosen place, purpose, and certainty. And happiness. So she has the privilege of wearing it."

"It's a reward? I'm not so easily motivated. And you only answered one of my questions."

Dr. Brown smiled. "Correct. One more test, Summer, and you will have the answer. Take off your panties and kneel on the floor." He got up from his chair, seeming so that he could look over the desk and see her if she was on the ground.

She didn't want to take off her panties, or kneel. But she wanted to do as he directed, and even more so she curious where it would take her. After a moment's hesitation, she slipped her panties off and knelt.

"No. Not like that. Hands behind your neck again and spread your knees apart."

She wasn't going to stop now. Was it true that she actually wanted to show off, wanted him to see her pussy as she spread her knees, wanted her breasts to bared and presented for his gaze? She told herself she was just determined to follow through, as she spread her knees as far as they could go. It caused an unpleasant stretch in her thighs, but she hoped he found it satisfying.

"Good girl," he said.

She thought she should have found it demeaning, but a larger part of her was happy her efforts pleased him. She strained to keep her knees apart as far as they could go, even though closing them just a few inches promised to give her relief.

"I believe that you're ready to accept your place," Dr. Brown said. "Sometimes it takes several sessions. An answer to your question, then." He paused. "And I notice your pussy is very wet."

She blushed, but it was true. He could see it. He could see her arousal. And he knew so much about her, and how she thought. She had never been so naked before.

"The S stands for the Society of Sinners. Not my name, I'm afraid. We take beta-fours, and teach them their place, and give them security. We protect them. We make them happy."

"How?"

"We also seek out alpha-sevens, who are significantly rarer than beta-fours. We educate them and show them that their natural tendency to seek consensus isn't what beta-fours need. Essentially, we use our more experienced beta-fours to train them to become what beta-fours need most: someone who will take charge, with kindness, but also with certainty. Someone who will seek their own pleasure so that beta-fours can give that pleasure."

Summer blinked. "You're like matchmakers."

"Sort of. We do not give people relationships, as you are used to thinking of them. We give them a life. A place. A purpose. Certainty. Every beta-four in the society wears a charm around her wrist, ankle, or neck, which she displays at all times. Every alpha-seven wears a ring, like mine."

"You're an alpha-seven."

"Yes. I became a therapist because I wanted to help people. I didn't start truly helping people until I understood my place and my purpose."

"What does it mean to be in the society?" she asked. "What are the rules?"

"Your place in the society is to be submissive. Your purpose in the society is to serve and please the men who wear the rings. Your certainty is that obedience will bring happiness. It is who you are. Take that chain and put it around your ankle, and you are agreeing to serve any man in the society, and to obey them. Even when they are strangers, even when they tell you to take your clothes off."

Her pussy ached with his words. He was right about that not being like a normal relationship. She would belong not to one person, but to a group. And have to obey, possibly at any moment. It ought to offend her, but it just turned her on. Dr. Brown was exactly right about her. He understood. But she still had a question. "Why my ankle? What does that signify? Kristi wears one on her wrist."

"I'll tell you what it signifies," Dr. Brown said with a smile, walking around from behind the desk. "It signifies that I told Kristi to put it on her wrist, and she put it there, exactly as I told her. And yours, on your ankle, will signify that you were told to put it there. It will look particularly nice on your long legs, and having to keep it visible will stop you from covering them up with pants. It is, in short, for my pleasure, and for the pleasure of the men of the society. Like so much you will find yourself doing, it is about us, and not about you. Your purpose is to please us. Your place is at our feet."

She couldn't believe it. But she couldn't believe she was naked and exposed and kneeling at his feet, either. She reached up and took the anklet from the table. She had to break position to get it on her ankle. Once she did, she looked up at him. His cock made a hard ridge in his slacks.

"Kneel again. Display yourself to me."

She did as he told her, spreading her knees, willing him to feast his gaze on her body.

"Tell me where your place is."

"At your feet."

"Tell me what your purpose is?"

"To please and serve."

"And how do you think you should do that?"

She unzipped his pants. He wasn't wearing underwear. She pulled out his long, thick cock and wrapped her lips around it.

He pushed the button on his desk, but she kept sucking. He hadn't told her to stop, after all. He rested his hand on the back of her head, assuring her she was doing the right thing.

Melody walked in. "Ah," she said. "She looks so happy. She looks like she's found her calling."

"Doesn't she, though?"

Summer knew she wasn't part of this conversation, except as it's subject. Her mouth was full. She was aware of a rustling of clothes behind her, and heard Melody moving, but she didn't know what was going on. She knew she was giving pleasure, sucking Dr. Brown's cock.

"That's enough dancing, Melody. Help her," Dr. Brown said.

Melody knelt beside her. She had taken off her clothes at some point. Apparently she'd been dancing, and Dr. Brown had been watching her while Summer sucked his cock. Now she fondled his balls and stroked Summer's hair.

"He's close," Melody told her. "Always swallow unless they ask you to hold it. Or they tell you they want to come on your face. When that happens, stick your tongue out. Let them know there's nothing you want more than their cum. It makes them feel so good. And that makes us feel so good."

She never thought she'd let a guy come on her face. She only ever swallowed before because it was tidier that way. Less mess. Guys liked it, but that wasn't the point.

It was, now. She was part of something bigger than herself. She was where she was supposed to be. And as Dr. Brown spurted rope after rope of cum down her throat, she loved the taste of it as she never had before. She swallowed, and kept his cock in her mouth until he stepped back. He zipped up.

"May I have a taste?" Melody asked. "They love it when we make out."

She'd never been attracted to another woman, but she wanted to please. She kissed Melody, and the kiss turned into a moment of tongue-swirling passion.

"Good girls," Dr. Brown said.

Summer smiled.

Dr. Brown handed her a card. It had a name on it that Summer recognized, a fancy restaurant downtown that was outside her means, a date three days hence, and a time. "Your next date, Summer. You'll enjoy this one much more than you've enjoyed the others. The rules of engagement are well defined. He will take charge, and you will obey. That is all for now."