Chapter 11: Epic Fantasies
"Do you have a minute?"
Alexis had been about to walk back to her consulting room, but she nodded when she saw Rita's expression. "Only just. My four o'clock is in the waiting room. Isn't yours?"
"Yes. That's what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Terry Payne. Premature ejaculator, right?"
"He was, a month ago. Now, thanks to us, he can only come when his wife tells him to - and she won't let him. I know, it's what she ordered, and paid for, but it's been more than a month and it doesn't seem fair."
"Because it's his money?"
"Not just that. We're supposed to be in the business of making people happy, not miserable!"
"He wasn't making her happy."
"Is there a way to make them both happy? His technique's improved a lot, but does she actually like sex with men?"
Alexis grimaced. Angela Payne, the assistant manager of an up-market fitness club, had been a regular client for most of a year. It had soon become obvious to Alexis that she had married her husband partly for financial security, but mainly to hide her lesbianism from herself as well as her conservative parents and employers. "I don't think she does. Are you fucking him?"
"Of course. Aren't you fucking her?"
"Scissoring and oral, mostly, and less of that since I persuaded her to hunt up some of her old girlfriends. Don't get me wrong; she's hot, but not really my type, and you may be right, I don't think she's really into being penetrated. But what do you want me to do? I'm not going to turn a lesbian into a come-junkie for her husband's sake, not for any money."
"She has girlfriends who make her come, doesn't she?"
"Yes."
"Why shouldn't he? He's not enjoying suffering like this - he may be a workaholic, but he's not a masochist! He has a decent sized cock and his technique's improving: I'm pretty sure he could please a woman who actually liked men."
Alexis sighed, and looked at her watch. "I'm not sure I can persuade her to remove the block, not immediately anyway, and we can't do it unless she goes along with it. Sorry, we really shouldn't keep our clients waiting any longer."
***
Alexis glanced at her notes, then at the couple sitting in her consulting room. Ethan, a social worker, was tall, blond, and swam regularly to keep in shape; he looked slightly younger than his thirty-three years, and more than slightly anxious. His wife Farah, a dark-haired dark-eyed beauty who would have needed to stand on a chair to rest her head on his broad shoulders, taught English, Farsi and Arabic. "I've interviewed both of you individually, and together, and I don't think there's any other way to say this... the problem you're having is that you're both submissives. I thought, at first, that it might just be that you were overly polite, even for Canadians," she added, as Ethan and Farah glanced at each other in alarm, "but it's more than that. You obviously love each other, you seem to be compatible in every other way, but you can't ask each other for what you want in bed, maybe you're embarrassed by what you want - though I don't know why; unless you're holding something back, none of it seems particularly kinky -"
"Hold on," Farah protested, "are you saying we're masochists? That's -"
"Not at all," said Alexis. "At least, Ethan isn't. Considering what you've told me about some of your previous relationships, I have my doubts about you. You seem to have alternated between relationships where everything was great except the sex, and relationships where the sex was the only thing that worked at all. Ethan, on the other hand, never found anyone he wanted to live with until he met you -"
"That's -"
"Okay, maybe you did, but you never worked up the courage to ask, right? But the idea of losing Farah was scarier than asking her to marry you. She, very sensibly, suggested you live together first, and you've been doing that for nearly a year now, and everything is fantastic except the sex... okay, the sex is good, but she's had better, and you've at least imagined better. Still, you worship her, and I can't blame you for that, because she's utterly gorgeous. The two of you really love each other, you're both smart and healthy and fairly sane and you have a lot of interests in common, even similar tastes in women, you could be the perfect couple... but you can't bring yourselves to tell each other what you want, and you don't know what to do about it. You can't have a successful sex life with two bottoms and no top, and I'm not referring to your anatomy. I think what you need is an instructor."
"You?" asked Ethan, trying to hide both his nervousness and enthusiasm.
"No, I'm your counselor. I mean someone who will give you both orders which you'll obey." She pressed a button on the sound system, which was playing the usual mesmerizing subliminal rhythms. "Judging from what you've told me, I think you'll both be happy to do so."
Farah looked slightly indignant, until the door opened and Naomi walked in, wearing a skin-tight and skimpy parody of a nurse's uniform. Farah's protests turned into a gasp as the beautiful Japanese receptionist unzipped her top, revealing her magnificent pale breasts in a custom-made J cup bra.
"I know you both like tits," said Alexis, smiling, "and I don't think you'll say no to those. But before we start, do you know what a safe word is?"
"Yes," Farah said quietly. Tim nodded slightly, unable to stop staring at Naomi's boobs.
"Good. I'm going to need a safe word from both of you. Say that, and everything stops. After that, you decide whether you want to leave and never come back. Do we understand each other?"
"Yes,"
"Okay, so what do you want to use as your safe words?"
"Haram," said Farah, automatically.
"You've done this before, haven't you?" Alexis smiled. "Okay, handsome, what about you?"
"Uh... Mosler."
The therapist laughed. "Literally a safe word, huh? Okay, that'll do." She turned to Naomi. "Well?"
"Strip," Naomi commanded. "Both of you, now. My bra stays on until you're both naked. Whether the rest comes off at all depends on how well you obey. Okay, what are you waiting for?"
***
Rita squirmed on the queening stool as Terry avidly licked her clit. "You're getting good at that," she admitted. "Make me come, and we can move on to the next chapter, if you like."
"Whatever you want," he replied, before resuming his eager ministrations.
"What do you prefer? Eating my minge or fucking it, licking my arsehole or fucking that?"
"Whatever feels best for you and makes you come -"
"That's not what I asked," she said, watching his erection. "Tell me the truth - what feels best for you? I'll know if you're lying."
"I love how tight your ass is," he replied, after a moment's thought, "but I really love sucking your tits while I fuck your pussy."
Rita smiled and nodded. "Good. Make me come with your tongue, and we'll do that. Then, if you like, you can rim me until my arse is ready for your cock, and fuck that too. How would you like that?"
"Oh fuck yeah," Terry moaned. "Fuck, I wish you were my wife."
***
Naomi looked her new slaves up and down, liking what she saw. Ethan had a good body and an erection nearly as long and thick as his fiancee's forearm. Farah's breasts were slightly smaller than Alexis's, but looked disproportionately huge on her tiny frame. "Turn around slowly," Naomi commanded, and they both obeyed. She silently admired their asses for just long enough to make them uneasy, then told them to touch their toes. Both of them, she noted approvingly, were able to do it. "Good," she purred, "I was going to have to spank you if you didn't. Now, legs apart more, so I can see your faces and your cock and your cunt as well as those lovely tight asses. Yes, that's right."
"What are you going to do?" asked Farah, uneasily.
"It's not what I'm going to do, it's what YOU'RE going to do. If I'm going to do something to you, I'll give you fair warning. I should probably spank you for speaking without permission." She watched Farah to see how she would relax; her caramel complexion made it difficult to be sure when she was blushing. "And if you do it again, I will - unless you're answering a question or begging for mercy. Now, reach back and spread your cunt lips, let me see that nice hot pink." When Farah obeyed, Naomi squatted behind her for a closer look. "What sort of noise do you make when you come?"
"I don't know. Ask Ethan."
"Do you scream?"
"No."
"We may have to fix that. Look, it's going to be confusing if I call you both 'slave', so from now on, he's 'Slave' and you're 'Slut', and I'm 'Mistress'. If you want me to call you anything else, you'll have to earn that privilege. Is that clear, Slave?"
"Yes, Mistress."
