Bailey and Her Former Therapist
Hello dear readers! Welcome to my first attempt at writing erotica! This story is based on true events; however, names have been changed and some individual characters represent multiple people. For the sake of story flow, however, it made sense to condense then into singularity. All characters involved in this quasi-fictional story are 18 years old or older. I hope you enjoy, and might consider sharing some constructive criticism in the comments so that I can improve.
...
My name is Dexter but most people I know call me Dex. I am a fifty-five year old retired family therapist. My career in the mental health field spanned roughly from 1986 until 2020. I have held a wide variety of positions; working my way up from orderly to director of programs. I went back to school and received my master's degree which allowed me to become a fully licensed therapist after requisite internships, supervised clinical hours, etc. Although the vocation was often emotionally stressful, I continue to take pleasure in knowing that my work inspired positive and healthy change in numerous families. I always gave my clientele well above 100% of my skill, knowledge, and what is known in the profession as "unconditional positive regard."
It is often said that therapists are not supposed to have favorite clients. But the truth, of course, is that we do. My fave is a young woman named Bailey. She is a stunning person that I will never forget. Could never forget. The first time that we met in my office was on the day of her 18th birthday. She explained that she had promised herself years before that when she turned 18, she was going to move out of her dysfunctional household and begin seeing a therapist. Bailey further explained that the reason she chose me was because a few of her friends had worked with me during their high school years, and they told Bailey that my expressive art therapy approach had helped them cross the many hurdles that they faced.
As I came to know Bailey, I very much admired her. She had been living with her mother and step-father who both had profound methamphetamine addictions. Our community is deep in the Appalachian mountains where jobs are scarce and drug abuse, domestic violence, and poverty is all too commonplace. Child protective services had visited Bailey's home occasionally when she was much younger, but the agency never saw fit to place Bailey into a healthier living situation. Usually, school teachers had made those reports when Bailey would confide in them. However, once it became clear that CPS was not going to take action, the teachers stopped making those calls.
Bailey tried in vain to encourage her caregivers to seek treatment, but they were too lost in addiction. Thankfully Bailey resisted the temptations of drugs and alcohol except for occasioal marijuana.
Bailey sought solice with a small group of friends who were all studious. They all had their invididual niches. Bailey was the editor of her school literary magazine, and a highly-valued participant in the drama club.
When her theater troupe put on shows, Bailey never auditioned for starring roles. Her passions were stage design and show promotion. On the few occasions when Bailey appeared as a cast member, she played short but memorable roles. No audience could take their eyes off of her, and although it was not her intention, she always stole the show.
Bailey and her friends spent their free-time listening to music, drawing, and playing Dungeons and Dragons. In our early sessions, I praised Bailey for carving out a safe and creative place for herself as she struggled to cope. Once she was old enough, she began working at a local theme park which employed a large portion of the town. Some days she sold "fry-bread" to visitors; other days she dressed in campy hillbilly costumes and took pictures with tourists. She saved every paycheck that she earned with the goal of renting a humble apartment when she turned 18 years old. And sure enough, she accomplished that task!
As therapy sessions progressed from week to week, Bailey grew stronger and independent. She was enjoying her modest apartment. She had occasional boyfriends, but never wanted to live with any of them. Her next goal was to save enough money for a used car. In the meantime, she rode her bicycle to work, therapy sessions, and everywhere else.
Sadly, about 9 months after becoming a legal adult, the theme park abruptly closed. Bailey was forelorn. Her life had been steadily going uphill, then suddenly she was unemployed and in the middle of a lease. Many local citizens shared the same predicament.
Bailey occasionally found temporary jobs, but she was barely able to afford food, shelter, and clothing with the little money that earned babysitting or cleaning vacation rental homes. These dwellings are for rich out-of-staters who visit the region to boat on lakes, watch the leaves change color in October, or buy local crafts so that they can show-off folk-art trinkets and baubles to their jealous neighbors when they return to Florida. These visitors often present as very elitist, entitled, and dismissive of the locals.
She expressed concern that she would not be able to afford the sliding-scale fee for therapy. I was so impressed with Bailey that I offered to see her pro-bono. She is a very proud young woman, so she admittedly felt awkward about taking me up on the offer. I reassured Bailey that her spirit and progress inspired me, and that is why I became a therapist. She tearfully accepted, and we continued our work.
One month later, the pivitol session happened. Up to this point, Bailey discussed sexuality in a very general way. For example, she expressed when sex was "inspired" or "stale", but certainly never elaborated. Until now. Suddenly, she announced that she had new reasons to focus on her sexuality in therapy.
Bailey: "I feel that I can trust you. Although I admit that I'm nervous, shy, and embarrassed, there is a new factor that effects my sexual world big time!
Me: "I'm very encouraged that you feel safe with me and the therapy room. You've heard me refer to this room as 'sacred space'. So whatever you discuss is strictly confidential, as you know. And YOU get to set all of the boudaries. If I ask a question or make a comment that results in you feeling awkward, please tell me and I will certainly respect your limits. If you feel that the conversation is moving too quickly, you can simply say, "I'm not ready to talk about that right now." We can slow down or refrain from whatever we're discussing. In therapy, there are times to push through inner-resistance. But since this factor that you mentioned is so new, I will follow your limits and boundaries."
Bailey nodded gently as I spoke. Occasionally, she looked directly into my eyes with a piercing gaze. As if she was mustering her courage to unload a heavy burden.
Bailey: "I. I, um." She paused, then: "I have a new job. I am, um. I am my own boss."
Me: "I'm intrigued! Tell me more."
Bailey: "Shit, I'm just going to say it. But I'm scared that you will think less of me."
Me: "I can assure you that I will never think less of you."
Bailey: (eyes watering a little, and face a little red with embarrassment.) "I just started three nights ago, and I made more money than working a month at my previous jobs. By the way, I'm going to pay for our session today since I finally have money coming in.
Me: "Bailey, I won't accept payment. I want you to save your money and get your feet firmly on the ground. Thank you for that offer, but sessions are still pro-bono. I insist."
Bailey then go up from her chair, walked over to me, and gave me a warm and long hug. As we held each other, her body trembled and she broke down crying. I simply held her and whispered, "It's ok. Let it all out. Let go of your worries." Bailey cried and cried in a very cathartic manner. Then she kissed my cheek, thanked me, and returned to her chair.
Bailey: (chuckling slightly) "Thanks, I needed that.
Me: "You're very welcome. And good job! Do you feel better?"
Bailey: "Yes, I'm calmer. I think I can now tell you about my new job."
Me: "Please do."
Bailey: "I'm a cam girl on GloryCams. Have you heard of it?"
Me: "Um. Now it's my turn to be embarrassed. Yes, I've visited that website a time or two."
Bailey: (smiling broadly) "You? Wow! Well, I guess you're human too." Then she said teasingly: "You naughty therapist!"
Me: "Well, I'm sure that my face is totally red now. Yes, I'm human. Guilty as charged."
Bailey: "My cam name is..."
I interrupted: "Wait. Please don't tell me your cam name." Suddenly I felt very distressed. I felt like catapult shot me into the middle of an ethical dilemma.
Bailey: "Why? (She seemed genuinely perplexed.)
Me: (Pausing. Trying to get my courage up. Finally I speak.) "I hate to admit this. But if you tell me your cam name, I fear that I would be tempted to find your performances on GloryCams. And... (long pause)... That would be terribly unprofessional of me. I'm so sorry Bailey. I hope that doesn't make you feel awkward. I apolgize from deep in my heart. But I respect you, and have to be honest with you."
Bailey: (Looking at me silently for a long while. Then she spoke.) Thank you for your honesty. And I promise, I am not judging you. In fact, to be honest, I am flattered! You're a good man and a fantastic therapist. And your honest makes me feel even safer when discussing this."
Me: "I would like to think that after all of these years as a therapist, I would know how to navigate an ethical dilemma such as this. Well, actually I DO know. I simply need to commit to not visiting your cam. Would it not be a violation of your space? But suddenly I find that I do not trust myself to abstain. Wasn't it Socrates who said 'Know Thyself'? Well, At least I know that I do not trust myself. And admitting that to you is terribly difficult."
Bailey: (Smiling reassuringly) "And I know myself. And I must admit, I am kind of excited by the idea of you watching my show."
