Steph was idly looking over the eclectically decorated shelves, not really seeing any more, just waiting. She heard the door open behind her and turned to see a beautiful older woman emerging from the office. The woman's longish brown hair was done up in a bun, starting to show just a little bit unkempt from the day, but looked leagues above her own crooked French braid. Greg recently had had Steph change to that style for her general day wear, and she hadn't quite gotten the hang of it yet.
"Stephanie?" The woman asked, raising her eyebrows a bit in question.
"Please, Steph." Steph replied, dropping her gaze. It landed on the woman's shoes. Open toed sandals, no hose. The honey color of her legs came from sun, apparently. She couldn't imagine this woman wasting time in a tanning bed. She was pedicured with a opalescent polish, and her toes were well shaped. The woman curled her toes and Steph was instantly reminded of another cleft. Kneeling behind Greg this morning as he stood at the shaving mirror. Reaching forward to knead and spread his muscular buttocks, leaning forward and taking in his musk as she probed with her tongue.
"Yes, of course. Steph." The woman replied, snapping her out of her reverie. "And you can call me Julia. Were you admiring something in particular on the cabinet?"
Steph had been looking at many things on the shelf. If she hadn't known what type of therapist this was they might have seemed innocuous, a macrame doily with rather interesting knot work, a painting of a woman with her horse brandishing her crop a little too menacingly, a ivory and jade Chinese finger trap, a dried flower arrangement in what looked to be an antique enamel bed pan, an old cargo hook and pulley. Steph's eyes settled on the safest choice, she thought.
"The mask there." Steph said gesturing and a white plastic mask, decorated with sequins and feathers. "Is that from Mardi Gras?"
"Hmm." Julia said, appraising Steph carefully. "No, it's not. Can you tell me why you've come to see me, Steph."
"I don't...Didn't Greg explain..."
"Yes, yes." Julia interrupted. "I know what Greg is expecting from sending you to me. He's my client. But you are my patient, and I'm curious about your expectations."
"I'm here for Greg." Steph said. "It's what he wanted."
"Of course." Julia said, smiling, a twinkle in her eyes. "Please leave your garments and belongings there on the chair and come into my office."
Julia turned and strode back through the door through which she arrived. Steph froze, staring after her for a moment before pulling her tank over her head. As her breasts popped free of the built in bra and she was in the tangled and exposed moment before she pulled it over her head, Julia popped back round the corner. Steph froze again, red flush glowing on her cheeks and chest.
"Oh, and put on the mask." Julia said. "The adhesive vial should be right there. Just don't get it near the eye holes. That would be...unfortunate."
She disappeared again. Steph struggled out of her top and looked at the mask, cringing. Then she glanced at the door to the street. It wasn't locked. Another patient, a delivery person, a lost tourist could wander in anytime. She tossed her tank on the chair and crossed to the cabinet. She picked up the mask and the brown glass bottle that was behind it. She unscrewed the top and it had a brush, like rubber cement. She painted the slimy, herbal smelling gel around the edge of the mask and pressed it to her face. She felt it grab and fuse right away. She tried to pull on it, to re-adjust slightly, it was lower on her left cheek, but it was stuck fast. She'd just have to live with it a little off side. She looked at herself in the mirrored back of the cabinet.
She wasn't herself. The mask hid her, changed her, protected her, and standing there bare breasted, she didn't feel exposed, but freed. She glanced down at her little shorts and boots and saw them as confining, constricting. She unbuttoned her shorts and wiggled out of them, pulling her heavy boots clumsily through the legs.
Bending and twisting about, her awareness rushed to the butt-plug Greg had her wear whenever she left the house alone. She had gotten used to the stretch, the fullness, and she learned to move gracefully so that it didn't shift about too much. But she had gotten a little carried away and now it was at a bad angle, poking her somewhere she didn't like. She reached back and pulled the thong aside and shifted and twisted the plug until it was seated better. Behind her, someone cleared her throat.
She spun, expecting Julia, but is was a slight blond woman in UPS gear holding a small package and her electronic clipboard.
"Delivery for Stephanie Weldon." She said, smirking
"Ha." Julia called from her office. "It's for you, Steph. Sign for it, please."
On shaky legs, Steph staggered over the the delivery woman and took the clip board. She whimpered a little under her breath as she signed. She handed back the clip board and accepted the package. The delivery woman leaned in to her ear, cupping her ass and tugging gently at the plug.
"We'll let this thing in your ass be our little secret." She breathed, nibbling at her ear. "See you around, Ms. Weldon."
The delivery woman left, and Steph sank into a chair, driving the plug up into her again. She wept a little and she unlaced her boots, and pulled them and her socks off and set them under the chair. Then she stood, skinned out of the thong and set that with her clothes as well. With another adjustment of her plug, she picked up the package and walked into Julia's office.
The office was bare. Julia was seated in the corner in the sole chair, a massive, high backed, coffee colored leather beast of a chair with a large matching ottoman upon which she had laid files and papers. The heavy iron rings strategically placed on the legs and studded into the leather suggested it was a multi-purposed furnishing. Steph shuffled into the middle of the room and stopped.
"Ok, girl." Julia said. "You shall kneel and present yourself there."
