Preface: This story has been written in response to a video from Mistress Rousson. The video was not directed at me specifically but having downloaded it I found that I was unable to resist the command contained therein. The tale itself is a fantasy, but not pure fantasy. I have woven real experience with darker desires and I hope this has resulted in a readable story which isn't so 'out there' as to be laughably unreadable. I hope you all like it...
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My name is David. I suppose I'm what you might call a 'chap's chap'; a homosexual friend of a friend once described me as 'oozing testosterone'. To be honest, I'm not sure what he meant by that, but in any case I am very heterosexual. I play in the forwards of my local rugby team, I work in a uniformed organisation and I like driving too fast, after all, the only crime is getting caught.
If one works in a uniformed organisation for any length of time it's almost inevitable that you end up seeing the things that can keep you awake at night. Leave you staring into space in an impenetrable trance. Make you drink too much, sleep too little and fight spontaneously.
It was that last one that finally brought me to my bosses attention. Apparently pinning your line manager to the wall by his shirt collar isn't the way to conduct yourself in the modern workplace and I found myself sent swiftly to the doctor who wasted no time in recommending me to 'Charlotte'. Charlotte I soon discovered, is the psychotherapist. I'll never forget the first time I saw her. I'd gone to my first session feeling somewhat apprehensive, sitting in the waiting room wondering what was about to happen my mouth ran dry and my hands began sweating. My nerves were not helped by the yells of pure terror which were emanating from the office across the hall, a few minutes passed and then there was complete silence. A few more minutes passed, the office door opened and an absolutely enormous man stepped out. Not just tall, but powerfully built with it. His face was pale and he looked as shaken as anyone, road traffic incident victims included, I've ever seen. I don't think he even saw me as he walked out of the front door of the practice. I've often pondered since, exactly what may have been going on in that office but just then I didn't have the first clue what to think. The sound of high heels approaching snapped my attention back to the office doorway. A slightly small, slender and highly attractive woman stood there smiling at me.
"Hello." she said "You're David aren't you? I'm Charlotte, come on in."
You've heard of the fight or flight response? Truth of the matter is that there's actually a third option: Freeze. Seems daft doesn't it? Several thousand years of evolution and we've still only got three options for responding to a threat, at least one of which results in our imminent demise. But this day, all the same, I froze. Wide eyed, my nerves turned from apprehension to absolute paranoia. What the hell did this seemingly pleasant woman do to her patients? "Well come on!" Charlotte smile was pleasant and her tone friendly and, to be quite honest, I couldn't help noticing from the start that under any other circumstances, I'd have been trying to find a way to chat her up. I followed Charlotte into her office and shut the door behind me...
Several weeks and many sessions went by. It's not that I wasn't engaging with the therapy, far from it. I actually got on with Charlotte, not only was she highly attractive but she was a triathlete which gave us enough in common with my cycling background to begin talking about something very non-threatening and to get to know each other enough to begin working on other issues. Like why I had felt it necessary to redecorate the office with bits of my line manager. But despite the hours of talking, the frank admissions on my part of violence and drinking, an actual cure, for want of a better word, just wasn't forthcoming. Then one day, everything changed.
My drinking hadn't gotten worse exactly, it's just that to avoid the associated aggravation (read: violence) which seemed to come with it when I went out I had taken to staying in and drinking. Alone. All weekend. Charlotte pressed me on this.
"What else do you do with your time? Surely you can't drink for an entire weekend? You must do something else? What is it? Watching television?"
I blushed, looked at the floor then met her eye "I drink, sure, I watch tv, I masturbate...alot... and I play computer games."
As soon as I said it something changed, a cooling of the atmosphere, a distancing of the rapport which had been established. I was left confused, the more so when a few minutes later Charlotte ended the session and told me I could leave.
The following week, feeling profoundly unsure once again, and wondering how things would now develop I arrived at the practice. Not unusually the place was quiet, only the secretary at her desk and all the other doors open. This being a sign that no other sessions other than mine were in progress as the practice had a policy of only closing doors when sessions were in progress. I smiled at the receptionist, a pretty buxom brunette I had often flirted with before but who had, as yet, resisted my charms and not revealed so much as her name.
"How are you this week then?" I asked.
"I don't think so, this week, David." she said coldly "Charlotte will be with you in a moment."
Surprised by this blunt reply from this formerly friendly girl I paused, unable to comprehend the change in demeanour. A door behind me opened and the familiar staccato of Charlotte's high heels echoed across the reception I turned, a smile forming at my lips which faded when I saw Charlotte. She didn't even look at me but simply walked past and said curtly over her shoulder
"Come to my office."
More confused now I followed her, unable to resist noticing the curve of her buttocks under the tight fitting knee length grey woolen skirt she was wearing.
