"Dr. Khadra Mohamed, this isn't easy for me to say, so I'm just going to say it, I feel that my curiosity about experiencing sexual submission is most definitely at odds with my identity as a butch lesbian," said Rhonda "Red" Redding, and the six-foot-tall, muscular, blonde-haired, alabaster-skinned and heavily tattooed young woman leaned back in her chair and sighed deeply. A forlorn look crept into Red's normally frosty blue eyes, and the doctor considered her words carefully before addressing her patient.
"Are you sure that your evolving desires are a problem? Isn't there more to being a butch lesbian than just mannerisms and appearances?" Dr. Khadra replied, a thoughtful look on her lovely face. Rhonda had been seeing the psychiatrist in the west end of Ottawa, Ontario, for a couple of months now. The sessions weren't cheap, and the Canadian government was paying for them ever since Rhonda had an episode at work. Rhonda needed to get better, because otherwise her job might be in jeopardy in the long run.
Dr. Khadra Mohamed, educated at McGill University in the City of Montreal, Quebec, and licenced by the Canadian Psychiatric Association, is certainly a woman of mystery. One of a few Muslim psychiatrists in the capital region of Canada, the tall, attractive, Somali-born doctor specialized in treatment of mental health patients hailing from strict religious backgrounds. That's why Rhonda, a die-hard Catholic ( once upon a time ) selected her, at first...
Rhonda Redding was raised Catholic by her British immigrant parents, Leonard and Bernice Redding in the City of Toronto, Ontario. They moved there from Berkshire, England, when Rhonda was younger. After graduating from the University of Toronto with her MBA, Rhonda ended up moving to the City of Ottawa, where she took a job with Stats Canada. Along the way, Rhonda came out as a lesbian, which earned her the staunch disapproval and estrangement of her strict Catholic parents.
While working for Stats Canada, Rhonda Redding met a lovely young black woman named Katrina Brown, a newcomer to the City of Ottawa by way of Bethel Town, Jamaica. Katrina was studying accounting at Carleton University and interning with Stats Canada when she got on Rhonda's radar. Although they hailed from different worlds, the two young women became friends and subsequently fell in love. Katrina moved in with Rhonda, and it should have been happily ever after. Except it wasn't...
"Doc, look at me, my hair is short, I'm more built than most guys, and you know that when people look at me, they know from the jump that I'm a gay woman, and a tough one at that, and that they know shouldn't mess with me," Rhonda said, and she bit her lip. Dr. Khadra nodded thoughtfully and looked at her confused patient, feeling deeply moved by her turmoil.
A few days ago, Rhonda Redding tried to broach the subject of her rapidly evolving emotional and sexual desires for deep submission with her girlfriend Katrina Brown, but the feisty young Jamaican dyke simply hadn't wanted to hear it. Their subsequent separation took Rhonda by surprise, and left her an emotional wreck, hence why she was having a near-breakdown on Dr. Khadra Mohamed's couch.
As much as the LGBT community liked to think of itself as a bastion of diversity and tolerance, Rhonda knew that it was anything but. She remembered the way a lot of the other queer women at Pride events looked at her and Katrina, simply because they were an interracial lesbian couple. Even in gay and lesbian spaces, white supremacy never failed to rear its ugly head, and Rhonda for one was sick of it.
Racism was alive and well in lesbian circles, and after hearing more than one queer white woman make disrespectful comments about her darling Katrina, Rhonda stopped going to queer community events. If they wouldn't respect the woman she loved, Rhonda wanted nothing more to do with them. That's why, whenever she was out with her darling Katrina, Rhonda held her hand and smiled daringly at any would-be haters. Let them try to mess with her beloved...
Rhonda Redding had gone to bat for Katrina Brown, hence why she felt so betrayed when Katrina flipped out on her. Apparently, femmes like Katrina weren't keen on dealing with butches who were eager to try new things. In the bedroom, Rhonda had always been the dominant one. Katrina liked to be fucked roughly, tied up, spanked, flogged and fisted, indeed the whole nine yards. Rhonda had always been happy to oblige her, pulling Katrina's long kinky dark hair and spanking her shapely ass while fucking her with her trusty strap-on dildo, and then some.
"What do you mean you want me to fuck you? Rhonda, we've been over this, I'm a power bottom and you're a top, you know I don't play that shit," Katrina Brown said sharply. Rhonda pleaded with her to understand, and the young Jamaican woman scoffed, looking at Rhonda Redding as though she had two heads. The two of them lay in bed together, having come home from the movies where they'd watched a double feature, Guardians of The Galaxy Volume Two and Wonder Woman.
Katrina had been kissing Rhonda and feeling her up since the movie theater, and by the time they got home, she was ready to fuck. Rhonda lay in bed next to Katrina, clad in her usual bedroom attire, her tank top and boxer shorts. Katrina wore a slinky red negligee, and looked simply gorgeous, the red fabric contrasting sharply against her lovely dark brown skin. Rhonda had always found women of the African persuasion absolutely gorgeous, and unlike others, she didn't fetishize them. Rhonda truly loved Katrina, hence why she felt she could share her secret desires with her...
"Well, um, yeah, I know that, but, fuck it, sometimes I want to be the one getting it," Rhonda said hesitantly, and Katrina narrowed her eyes. Shaking her head, she got up and headed to the living room, leaving Rhonda sitting up on the bed, feeling lost and disappointed. That's the queer community for you, Rhonda thought bitterly. Queer women liked to rail against the heterosexual establishment, and yet they had firmly established gender norms of their own which they refused to let go of. Rhonda, a self-styled butch lesbian, wanted more freedom than that...
"When I look at you, I see a beautiful human being, Rhonda," Dr. Khadra Mohamed said, and Rhonda blinked, snatched out of her little trip down memory lane by the doctor's melodious voice. Rhonda smiled nervously and looked at the good doctor. For some reason, Dr. Khadra reminded her of Hollywood starlet and music icon Alicia Keys, only clad in Hijab and a stylish pantsuit, of course. Why are all the gorgeous and decent women unavailable? Rhonda thought with a sad little sigh.
"Yeah, doc, but I'm a freak, I'm a butch lesbian who wants to get slapped and spanked and fucked, all the other butches I know are tough, stoic and dominant, what's wrong with me?" Rhonda said, and she buried her face in her hands. Rhonda's broad shoulders sagged, and all the tension, sadness and fear that she'd been holding onto came pouring out of her in a torrent of emotion which she could not stop. Stoic butch or not, Rhonda was human...
"Rhonda, my dear, there's nothing wrong with you," Dr. Khadra Mohamed said, and that's when the good doctor did something which went against her code of clinical detachment as a licenced and practicing psychiatrist. Deeply moved by the almost elemental pain emanating from the blonde woman sitting across from her, the doctor rose from her desk, and gently took Rhonda's hands in hers. When the younger woman looked up at the doctor through tear-stained blue eyes, Dr. Khadra smiled.
