Therapy First Session

Therapy: First Session... Scarlett and Rhett

by

Miles Naismith

Sydney is a therapist. She is also my best friend.

I can keep the two separate, but sometimes she can't. But she is helping me to sort out some conflicting feelings. She told me to write down the whole story; she says it will help me.

The relevant facts began with her. We were doing the girl talk thing at lunch, one Saturday, not long before the events related here. She was offering "cocktail party" therapy, nothing deep.

"Let me summarize. Your Dad ran everything in your family, while your Mom pretended to be in charge. Koji doesn't run things, and it bothers you. Do you want to be your Mom?"

Koji is my husband.

"No! I do not want to be my Mom. I mean, it seems to work for her -- she's happy -- but I like being an equal partner with Koji."

"Then why are you so dissatisfied right now?"

"I don't know. I don't want him to run everything, but I wish he'd be more forceful than saying, 'Whatevah you want, Sistah,' sometimes." Koji can and does use the pidgin dialect of his childhood. I just have to smile when I hear it.

"You have no idea how many women would love to have your relationship, but I know what you mean."

She lowered her voice, almost talking to herself, " I might still be with Tom if he were a little more of the caveman instead of a metrosexual wannabe black turtleneck wearing pseudo-sophisticate snob."

She spoke up again to me, "You want to be controlled, yet still be in control. It's a not uncommon human wish."

"I don't want to be controlled! I just want more, I don't know, firmness. Something to push back against. I'm drowning in marshmallow fluff."

"What a way to go. You want to trade Koji to me for a week? I could stand some coddling. You can have John... he can beat his chest with the best of them, and a fine chest it is. And he's big... you know?"

Koji, despite his name, is not primarily of Japanese descent, although he has a lot of that. Hawaii is a true melting pot in a way that the mainland just talks about. He was well over six feet and looked more Polynesian than anything else except for the eyes. His nickname when he was young, and my pet name for him now, was Kojidai. That's roughly "Big Koji" in phrasebook Japanese. Or so I've been told.

John, Sydney's latest beau, was a weightlifter type, all bulging muscles. He was big, but I've heard what those steroids can do to the genitalia. Sydney might be surprised if I took her up on her offer: Kojidai's nickname fits him all over.

I wasn't tempted, though, even if she had been serious.

I finally got Sydney off the therapist track, and we had a wonderful visit for the rest of our lunch break. But the caveman remark got me thinking. Always dangerous, thinking.

I thought that maybe Sydney was on to something without really knowing it. After all, when the caveman bashes the woman over the head and drags her off by the hair, what does one think he is going to do with her.

After the first thought, a smart woman might look ahead to the second thoughts, like having to cook, to gather roots and berries, and to pick up dirty saber-tooth loin cloths from the floor, but I think everyone has the first thought. It was strangely attractive.

Cavemen were out, but I knew someone who could supply just the right touch for this fantasy. When Koji got into his car on that Friday, he found a letter taped over the speedometer glass.

It said, "Tonight I want Rhett Butler. I want the man the other women secretly want. The man my parents warned me about. Preferably you, but if you want any tonight, you'll have to show me some moves.

Meet me tonight at the Jefferson at 7:00 p.m. Go up the grand stairway, then to the left, to the big conference room on the second floor, wearing the name tag in this envelope.

If you can get a woman to punch her name and number into your cell phone, and take her picture, I will give you a blowjob to remember. If the picture shows her to be pretty, and she is wearing a wedding ring, you may carry me up our stairs to our bed, muttering 'This is one night you're not turning ME out!' before you take me any way you want for one hour.

But just remember, no name, no phone number, no pic... then no nooky tonight.

I will be keeping myself busy being true to my role in all this, flirting with whatever males are available until you give me a thumbs up. Then I will leave and meet you at the bottom of the stairs.

Scarlett"

I had deliberately picked the Jefferson Hotel for two reasons: its grand staircase was the very place they had filmed Rhett carrying off Scarlett while saying the famous line, and it was also the site of some kind of Montessori school seminar with lots of elementary school teachers attending.

Since I sort of really wanted to submit to him for that hour, I thought I would give him what he was fond of calling a target rich environment.

Of course, this would not be a meat market singles bar. He would need to work harder than that to earn me, but hey, Montessori teachers had to lean to the liberal side, don't you think?

I won't describe now or later trivia like how I got authentic name tags. Suffice it to say, if you wonder about such stuff, I am smart and resourceful.

I have never been to Koji's actual office. I don't have the security clearance. But I knew, of course, where it was, and I knew he would have to go straight to the Jefferson to make it on time.

Richmond traffic is not as bad as Washington, but it just wouldn't permit him to make the round trip to and from home by 7:00.

I work close to home, so I went there after work. I packed some clothes and essential toys and DVDs for my daughter.

She would be spending the weekend with my parents. Mom was coming by to pick her up, and, since she lived more or less on the other side of the city, she was going to drop me off at the Jefferson. I thought it might spoil the moment if Koji and I had to commute back in separate cars.

Besides, I wanted to tease on the way home... a little frustration on his part might induce him to perform better once home, at least as my fantasy saw it, in this theater piece.

When she got here, after the hi-how-are-you's, Mom said, "Looks like someone's getting lucky tonight!"

I never hear my friends' moms make comments like that, but mine is cool. And I hoped she was right.

I was dressed in a pleated black skirt to mid-thigh, and a classy, but low cut, matching sweater. Mom didn't know it, but my bra was a strapless bandeau type, and would be out through the front of my sweater and into my purse shortly after I got to the hotel.

She also didn't see the black thong, but I sure felt it. Or rather, the lack of it. I had never worn one before, and I hadn't fully internalized how completely bare my ass would feel... and be.

I hoped to attract some attention at the cocktail party to welcome the teachers. I figured that would make Koji a little jealous, which just might goad him to take me even more forcefully.

And it might make him feel some pride when he walked away with the object of some other men's desire. I planned on putting my wedding rings in my purse with my bra, the better to lure Scarlett's suitors.

As I rather expected, he was already there when I walked in at ten after. What I didn't expect was to be ignored. He glanced my way without expression as I walked in, and went back to chatting up some girl who looked all of fifteen.

I guess she must have been older than that, since she was drinking wine, but she sure didn't look it. I had a flash of jealousy when she twirled her hair and subtly lifted her chest at him.

"Mine!" I wanted to shout, but instead I went to the bar.

At the bar, I found out that one had to buy drink tickets at a table in the corner before one could get a drink. I murmured my thanks to the bartender, and turned, only to find myself looking into the face of Omar Sharif. The way he looked in Lawrence of Arabia.

He smiled a dazzling smile, fluorescent white teeth contrasting with a dark complexion, and said, " Please, let me."

He handed the bartender a ticket, and the bartender mixed the gin and tonic I had requested before being sent on the ticket quest. Omar handed me the drink with slight bow.

"Cornelius Breathwaite, Ma'am. And you are?"

And I am disappointed as hell. Damn. The romantic images I had instantly conjured up disappeared like a burst soap bubble with that introduction.

What Arabian Sheik has a Mississippi accent. And why the hell couldn't he have been named Ali, or something.

I smiled and tried to remember the name on the name tag (I told you I was smart. I wasn't about to use our real names among these strangers.) "Katie. Katie O'Hara."

"Oh no. They didn't do that to you, did they. Your parents, I mean."

Cornelius was quick. Most people didn't know Scarlett's first name. "Yeah, they did."

"Well thank God I got to you in time, before that Butler guy does. By the way, I stole this nametag. The name's really Wilkes, Ashley Wilkes."

Damn, he really was quick. In the background, a DJ was starting up. Cornelius said, "Since you've got your widow's weeds on, I suppose, Ma'am, it would be improper to ask you to dance... "

"Fiddledy dee, Suh. I would just be ever so delighted to dance with you, Mr. Wilkes." I could do Southern too.

Neil, as I found out he preferred to be called, turned out to be a great dancer. He managed to make both of us look graceful without ever taking his eyes off of my bouncing boobs. He smelled good too.

When a really slow song came on, I had to push him away. I was afraid I liked him too much to cuddle.

For the next couple of hours, I danced with many and listened to a surplus of stale pickup lines.

Since I wasn't driving, I indulged in more of the drinks being urged upon me by those cute Tarleton boys, or at least their eager teacher alter egos, than I normally would have, but I wasn't drunk.

Just pleasantly tipsy. Tipsy enough that Neil got a feel of my bare ass cheeks for maybe five seconds in a later dance, before I came to my senses.

I was right to be wary of him. If I weren't married, he could have had me in an instant.

I had been glancing over at Koji, feeling some jealousy as he danced and talked with several hot babes, even as I flirted up a storm. Finally, he looked directly at me and in a very deliberate fashion, turned his thumb up.

I knew his phone camera had a flash, and I had not seen it flash. In fact, I hadn't seen it out of his pocket all evening.

Oh, crap. I wanted nooky. But it looked like he had failed. I went out and down the grand staircase. He was already there at the bottom.

At the bottom, I said, "Tough night, stud? I told you, no phone number, no pic, no nooky."

He laughed and opened his phone. He showed me a girl's name in the contacts with her phone number, and then two more. He switched to the photo viewer, and showed me pictures of three women I had seen at the party. Wedding rings showed on the one twirling her hair in picture, the same one I had seen with him when I came in.

He flipped the camera shut, put one arm around my back and bent to catch the backs of my knees with the other. He carried me with in a forceful cadence up the stairs. Two thirds of the way up, he paused, and in a commanding voice said, "This is one night you're not turning ME out!"

Above me, women laughed and applauded. I looked up, and several women, including the ones in the pictures, were standing at the top of the stairs. So was Neil, looking disappointed.

They raised glasses and toasted us: "Bottoms up!" I turned red. They all knew.

It was about then that I realized that my bottom, if not up, was at least out. In the position I was in as he carried me, the top of my short skirt had slid up my legs and gravity was tugging those pleats straight down. The thong I was wearing had only a string in the back. Bottoms up, indeed. I think my blush reached all the way to my butt.

Koji marched us right into an elevator, which one of his harem was holding for us. When the door closed, I said, "You can put me down now."

Koji replied, looking straight ahead, "Quiet, wench. You're mine for the next hour. Speak when spoken to." He showed no strain at my weight. Did I mention that he is a big guy?

The elevator ride was short, two floors, and then he carried me down the hallway toward the rooms. A kid with an empty ice bucket in his hands, maybe fourteen or fifteen, stood open mouthed, staring at my bare ass as we passed.

Koji dumped me unceremoniously on the bed and announced, "I am going to use the head. Be naked when I get back."

The head he was referring to was the bathroom, not mine, but I guessed he would want head from me before the hour had passed. I had used the ladies room shortly before the thumbs up so I was okay.

When he emerged, he saw me in my heels and thong, laying on the bed in a Playboy pose. He sat in a straight backed chair by the small desk in the room, and brusquely said, "Come here."

I stood up and did my best seductive hip swishing as I walked to him. He grabbed my wrist, and forcefully pulled me over his knees, face down. Before I could react, he spanked me. It stung a little, but it didn't really hurt. I screamed, but it was mainly surprise and fear, not real pain.

I struggled, but he easily held me down. Did I mention he is a big guy.

I imagine my butt was a pretty shade of pink when he stopped and said, "I told you to be naked. For the next 52 minutes, you are mine to do with as I please. Don't make me mad."

His voice was cold, and I felt a twinge of fear. He sounded like he meant it. This wasn't quite the playful game I had imagined. As the reality of his attitude sunk in, I started to get aroused, despite my fear. I wanted this. At least for the next 52 minutes.

He stood up, dumping me to the floor as his lap disappeared. "On your knees," I heard. I obeyed.

"Take off my clothes." He was already out of his jacket and tie, and was working on his shirt. I started to unbuckle his belt, then dropped to his feet instead. He would not like it if he tripped over his pants because he still had shoes on.

Once his shoes and socks were off, I again turned to his belt. I pulled it out of the loops and threw it aside. The waist tab and zipper were next. As the pants slid down, I saw he had gone commando. Another flash of jealousy: he had danced and flirted with no underwear at all between him and those oh so accommodating women.

Did he get hard? Did they feel it, unfettered in his pants?

My train of thought was derailed when he pulled my face to him, pressing his erection against my lips. I opened to take him in. I loved the way he didn't ask, just expected me to do it. I wanted to please him. I'd give him a one hell of a blowjob, or die trying.

I had been bobbing on his cock for a few minutes when he spoke, ostensibly talking to me, but more to himself.

"You know I can come in your mouth this time. If that's how I want to take you. And you would have to swallow, unless you want another spanking."

I figured this was coming, and had steeled myself against it. The idea of letting a cock shoot off in my mouth was a wretched idea, and swallowing it was worse.

But I knew when I agreed to be taken that this was probably what he would want, and I was prepared to give it to him. Or rather, let him force it on me. I figured that would make it easier.

I was surprised when he pushed me back. "Not this time," he said, "I don't want to come right now. I with less than an hour left, I might not recover in time, and I have other plans for you tonight."

"Stand up and hold out your hands."

I did, and my eyes widened when I saw the rope.

"Oh Kojidai, please don't tie me up. I don't like that."

He continued tying my wrists. "It doesn't matter what you like. Because you don't get to choose. You said I could take you anyway I want to. This is how I want to. Now, be quiet."

He pushed me down on my back on the bed, and used another length of rope to tie my hands to the headboard. He took his tie and made a small knot in the center, then held it to my mouth. "Open up." When I started to protest, he simply pushed it in. He tied it behind my head.

He grabbed my ankles and pulled my feet above my head, holding them there. He looped his fingers around the strings on the back of my thong. He jerked hard, and the strings broke. The thong was ripped from my body.

I felt a stinging spank on my ass. "I thought I told you to get naked."

I wondered if I would get two more for the shoes.

Clearly he thought about it, for he said, "I'll have to take a couple of spanks back."

I felt two slow, loving kisses on the cheeks of my ass.

"You were right to leave the shoes on. They'll look sexy as hell in the pictures."

Pictures! NO. I struggled against the bonds. I couldn't get my hands free. I tried to protest, but the gag produced only an incoherent muttering. I finally stopped fighting. He told me to spread my legs. When I didn't, he pulled my left foot to the side of the bed and tied it with some rope anchored to the bed leg. He then pulled my right leg away from where I had clamped it to my left, and tied it to the other bed leg. Did I mention he is a big guy?

He picked up his phone and pointed it at me. The flash went off. Oh, shit. He really was taking pictures. After a few seconds, it flashed again. All I could do was glower at him. He put a pillow over my head, and I saw another flash. He removed the pillow and stood back, engrossed in his phone.

"Now to send one off, if I can figure out the picture message function on this thing. Oh, I see, just punch in the number here. Where is that number?"

He picked his pants up off the floor and reached in a pocket. He pulled out a business card. As he pressed the buttons, he said to me, "Neil didn't know you were married, you naughty girl. When I talked to him, he was still hoping he could pick you up. I told him I thought I could get you. We kinda made a bet, and we agreed that if either of us got you, the winner would to try to take a naughty picture to send to the loser."

"You know," he mused, "This has been fun, and shortly will be even more fun for me, if not necessarily for you, except for one thing. It irritated me that you took off your rings.

I feel like you gave up the symbol of our exclusiveness. So, if you don't want to be exclusive, I will share you. The pillow covers your face, but Neil will know who you are in the picture. The ropes are out of frame, so he won't know you are bound.

He'll just think you are a slut, spreading for my camera.

I expect he will be tugging on a hard cock shortly, thinking it could've been him, and cursing his luck."

I was shaking my head frantically, but he just smiled and hit the send button. After a few seconds of looking at the screen, he nodded slightly and put the phone down.

I know I was beet red, but in my embarrassment, I felt a thrill. Not so much that another man would see my naked body, although that was part of it, but that Koji had done without asking me.

"Now for some fun," he said, as he crawled between my legs.

"Twenty-one minutes left."

In our real life, our usual lovemaking must be a little constrained to avoid alarming our daughter. Koji seldom eats me, because I get too sensitive too quick, and if he continues, I scream.

So typically, we kiss and caress for a while, and my breasts get tingly with his attentions. Then he fingers me below while I stroke his erection, or, rarely, we have a short session of soixante-neuf, until I get too sensitive.

Then on to the main event. We do vary the routine when our daughter isn't there, but this is our usual diet.

Koji didn't fool around with preliminaries. His lips went straight for my clit, and sucked it in. His tongue lashed me. My pelvis convulsed so hard I thought I might have dislocated his chin. But apparently not, for the oral attack continued.