The Palmist

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Everyone in this story is at least 19 years of age. Everyone.

*****

When I went in, she was with a client at her reading table. She glanced at me as I entered, but then turned her attention back to the client. I stood inside the door for probably three or four minutes, feeling awkward and wondering if I should interrupt just long enough to ask if I should return later. Then I heard Lila say, "Would you excuse you me for just a moment, hun? I'll be back in seconds." Before I knew it she had glided to the entryway to her kitchen, and as I watched, she shot me a quick look and gestured for me to follow.

I followed her into the little room where I'd last seen her, where I'd watched the two videos she'd produced for me, where she had battered my face and tongue with her dirty feet and spanked me with my own belt. "Are you in a hurry today, hun? Are you on your way to work or anything?"

"No, ma'am." I feel I must have been smiling when I answered, because she had called me "hun", and her tone was gentle.

"Come over here, then." She directed me to a corner of the room. Gently guiding my shoulders, she made it clear that she wanted me to stand in that corner, facing it. Once I was stationed there, I was startled to find two sandals coming into my field of vision from either direction. She had taken them off her feet, and with a sash she produced from who-knows-where, she tied them with the top sides right over my face, side by side.

"Stay here until I come back in. Just stand here feeling your erection twitch," she chuckled, "and don't move."

I'm not sure how long I waited. Long enough to feel self-conscious and stupid. When she returned, she had me remain as I was, as she asked me about how, and what, I'd been doing for the last four days. She asked for details, so, while facing the corner of the room and talking into her sandals, I told her how I'd felt undeserving somehow to return to my own bed after that first time forcing myself out of it at 4 AM, and how I'd fantasized that I was sleeping on the ground outside after prepping sleeping accomodations for Brittany, Katrina, and her new boyfriend.

"That is wonderful, David," she said. "You are making progress, hun. Lila is very, very pleased that you came up with that idea all on your own. Now I want you to tell me that you were not good enough for Katrina, that she was right to cheat on you, and that you're glad she found someone who deserves her."

Dutifully remembering to say "Yes ma'am" first, I repeated the prescribed assertions. She asked me to tell her more about what the time dating Katrina was like. I told her how Katrina would have me call her each morning to wake her up, how some days I was a sort of human snooze alarm - if she said to call back in a few minutes, I did it. How Katrina had me help her study, how she didn't really want us holding hands or touching each other in front of others.

"Ah," said Lila. "Well, you've acknowledged that you weren't good enough for her. And I'm sure she knew that. Probably from the time she first met you. So do you ever wonder why she dated you in the first place?"

"Um..."

"Do you think she ever intended to have sex with you?"

"Well... That's what people do... eventually... right?"

"Not in a case like this, hun. She wasn't waiting for the right time with you. She was waiting to meet a man she liked, one she was attracted to."

"So... why not just break up with me? I mean, break up way earlier?"

"Because you were useful to her."

After reflecting a few moments, I replied, "Useful. So you're saying... she was just using me?"

"Yes, hun."

"But... that's wrong. I mean, to use people and string them along. That's wrong."

"When you were with her, spending time with her, did you enjoy it?"

"Yes."

"Well, then... you got something out of it. You got about as much as you deserve, hun, 'cause you're a loser. And she knew it."

Her words cut my heart and made me feel deflated. Combined with my present position of standing in a corner, facing a wall, with sandals over my face, they made me feel extra-stupid.

"So, hun... Tell me Katrina knew you were a loser from the beginning, that she stayed with you as long as you were useful to her, and that she was right to use you until someone she liked came along."

I repeated the assertions, and just as I finished, I was aware of Lila standing just behind me. I could just barely feel her dark curls, as she leaned in, just over my shoulder, and whispered, "Loooooooserrrrrrrr". As my eyes flew open about as wide as they can go, she chuckled, and glided back to where she'd been sitting.

After allowing the realization to sink in, that she was the voice of the mocking, whispering woman in the videos, she asked me, "Does it hurt when Lila laughs at you, hun?"

"Yes ma'am."

"But do you understand it?"

"Um. I guess so, ma'am."

"Do you think a psychotherapist would ever call you a loser and laugh at you?"

"No."

"No, they wouldn't. Just another reason they can't help you. You ARE a loser. And you need to face it, and understand it. And you're beginning to, hun."

"But... ma'am?"

"Yes, hun?"

"I don't WANT to be a loser."

"Oh, but you ARE, David. And that can't be helped. It's part of your destiny, hun. Remember that broken heart line? You were on the first part, until Katrina pushed you into the gap between the two parts. Not everyone with a split heart line like yours is a loser; there are other reasons for that pattern. But let me tell you what happens to some loser men like you: Some try, over and over again, to restore what they had along that first heart strand, thinking that if they go about things differently, they'll find the kind of love they want. What they don't realize is that love for them needs to be more about giving, not getting. Basically, they want sex - everybody does - and they want friendship and respect from a woman. But NOBODY respects a loser, hun. Nobody. So they're never able to get what they want. They only get what they deserve. Over and over again. And they get pushed back into the gap again and again. But instead of flowing with the current of their destiny, they swim back to the near shore and climb back onto the bank.

"The ones who simply cannot accept that they'll always be losers ultimately become *tragic* losers, hun. They end up depressed - like you've been - but they don't come out of it. In the end, it's fatal. They might die as addicts, or even commit suicide. And hun, we do NOT want to see you come to that end. You've got a good long life in front of you, and it can be a happy one. But you have to get across the gap first, and you have to realize you can never go back.

"Now, I'm not sending more of the herb I gave you last time, that made you more depressed. You've needed it the last few days, but I don't think you need it now. I'll send another mix with you, and you can even put some honey in your tea when you make some of this. You're already facing your loserness, hun, and that encourages Lila greatly. You're making very good progress, hun. Lila is proud."

She couldn't see, but I was smiling and felt very happy, hearing those words.

She asked if classes and work were going well, and I told her that things were pretty good except for the mental and emotional distractions due to... well, Lila's "therapy". She said that was to be expected, as accepting the fact that one is a loser is naturally a disturbing experience. But things should improve now. So since I was off work that night, she wanted me to go to the BC library, and spend the rest of the evening focusing on my studies. Find a table and sit alone, she said, because that's what losers do, and don't talk to anyone unless they talked to me.

"Now... Would you like me to make another video for you, hun?" After I answered in the affirmative, she said, "Okay. Well, I've just spent quite a while talking with you, and I think you should pay me 100 dollars for this time today. Then another 300 for the next video, which will take me at least two weeks to prepare. So that's 400, payable at your next session. Think you can handle that, hun?"

Four hundred dollars at once seemed like a whopping amount, but when I thought about it, I realized that up to this point I'd probably been getting much more than I'd so far paid for. So I agreed, but told Lila it would probably take me three or four weeks to get that much money together.

"That's fine, hun. It will just mean three or four weeks more of not cumming, and ... you know ... that won't be any problem at all for me." She chuckled, whereas I sniveled inaudibly and leaked pre-cum from my erect dick.

"Um... well ... ma'am?"

"Yes, David?"

"I, uh... I never... um... I never came... uh... I haven't cum since... um, you know... way before this last session."

"You think a session means you get to cum? Hun, remember: You're a loser. You don't EARN things. Your role in life is to give. Give to the woman you love, or women you love. Or give to their friends. Or give to the man they love. Basically... you give to people who are allowed to indulge in pleasure when they want, which is something a loser like you doesn't get to do. You only get pleasurable things, or fun things, or nice things, or comfortable things, when it suits other people. People who are superior to you. Now... Lila doesn't want you to cum right now, or in the weeks between now and your next session. So you won't cum. And when Lila thinks about you, she'll be laughing over that. And because you have enough love for Lila, you know that it's more important for her to be amused, thinking of you, than for your stupid little loser dick to get pleasure. You understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good boy. Now... keep sleeping on the floor like you've been doing, because it will make you keep thinking of Katrina, and how her happiness and comfort is more important than yours. Drink the tea I'll be sending with you. And NOOOOOO cumming. No touching, even. Nothing but twitching and leaking and frustration for little David, haha. But... you can call Lila any time you want, okay? Obviously I'll get a little impatient if you bother me with too many calls, but if you really feel you need to talk to Lila, you can call, okay?"

"Thank you, ma'am."

While studying alone in the library that night, I got a call from Derek. He wanted to get away and suggested coming up to Bellewood from Anniston, to hang out for the weekend. I thought the change of pace would do me good, and hanging out with a guy friend would get my mind off of girl troubles. But then Derek asked about Megan, and did I know if she was dating someone. I said I didn't know, as I only saw her now and then on campus, in passing, and we rarely conversed. He said he wouldn't mind the chance to see her, if I could arrange it. He suggested a double date, or some group outing she'd be invited to. All he needed was for she and he to end up in the same place, and then he could find out what's up.

I hemmed and hawed a bit, such social finagling not among my strong suits. He said, "Well, just ask her, dude. Just say, 'Derek liked you, and he's coming to town, and we wanna take you and a friend out.' Just say that." The idea was simple and straightforward. Straightforwardness was also not among my strengths, but this was a little different, because *I* wasn't asking Megan out. And if she turned down the proposal, she wouldn't be turning *me* down. Presumably she'd be turning Derek down. (Or it was possible she did have a boyfriend, in which case we'd find that out.)

As it happened, I saw her the next day on campus, so I flagged her down and proposed the outing: me, her, Derek, and some unspecified girlfriend she could choose. She asked if this should be considered a double date, because if so, it would also be a blind date situation, and did I trust her to pick someone to match with me? I said, "Well, we can just consider it a group of friends going out. I mean, I'll pay for your friend, but whoever she is, I really don't want her to think I'm expecting anything. She and I will both just be there, you know, to round out a group."

She agreed, and suggested the four of us meet at Remo's on Saturday night, 7:00, to have some pizza and then just go from there. Did she want me to pick them up? No, she said, we'll just meet at Remo's. Okay, I said.

On Thursday night I spoke with Lila by phone and told her Derek would be visiting that weekend, and that we'd be meeting Megan and a friend on Saturday night. She asked, "Will he be here during the day Saturday?" Yes, I said. "Why don't you bring him in so I can do a reading for him. Do you think he'd be interested?"

"Um... I don't know."

"Well, offer it. And if he wants to do it, tell him you'll pay for it. It'll be 60 dollars."

"Sixty??"

"Yes, if he's interested at all, I want to do an in-depth reading with him."

"Um. Okay. But ... if I have to pay for that, um.. I mean... it might put off my session for another week."

"Mmm. So another week of not cumming so your friend can have a reading before his date. I like that."

I whimpered a bit, under my breath. "Well..."

"So I'll see you Saturday then. 11:00 would be good."

"Umm. OK."

"David... not 'OK'."

"Uh-yes ma'am! Yes ma'am. I'm sorry."

"Get up at 4 AM tomorrow, and get naked and on your knees in front of a desk or table or something, get a piece of paper, and write 50 times: 'I will not say OK. I will say yes ma'am and yes sir'."

"Yes ma'am."

"See you Saturday." And she hung up. At which point I thought, "Yes sir"?

Derek arrived Friday evening, and we just hung out at the house that night, watching movies and talking. When bedtime came, I told him he could use my bed and I'd make myself a pallet on the floor. Lila wanted me to continue sleeping on the floor, so if I'd had him sleeping on the couch, say, with me in my bedroom, I'd have felt the need to lock my door to prevent him from entering unexpectedly and seeing that I was on the floor beside an empty bed.

He had brought his laptop along, and after we retired to my room, he got it out and asked how to access our wireless internet. Then he brought up a website featuring naked cam girls. (Well, many were naked; some weren't. But the obvious purpose of the site was to be able to watch girls being sexy on cam.) I'd never visited such a site before; I didn't even know they existed. But as he watched, he'd keep saying, "Ooh, check this one out, dude. Mmm. She's hot." And he'd have me come over to look.

I kept getting raging erections from watching the action, and my dick twitched and throbbed in my shorts. Suddenly Derek whipped off his own shorts, and got his own erect dick out to start stroking it. "Feel free to rub one out, dude. I'm going to, haha." This made me very uncomfortable, since I'd never been in the same room with another guy when he had his dick exposed. Also, not only would I never "rub one out" in front of another guy, I wasn't even *allowed* to do that.

"Dude you probably better get some tissues, hahaha. And do you have any lotion or something?"

"Um. We probably do somewhere. I'll go look." The bathroom I used didn't contain any lotion, because I don't use it (even for non-masturbatory purposes), so I went downstairs to check another bathroom, where I found some. I brought that, and some tissues, back into the bedroom, where I was confronted with the sight of my friend leaning back on my bed, looking at his laptop, and pumping his exposed, naked cock. Such a sight might have killed my boner if not for three things: I hadn't cum in about three-and-a-half weeks and might have that long again before I *might* be allowed to; I had both my hands full and none free to touch my dick, but was aware of not being allowed to anyway; and, my mind flashed to Lila's mention of "yes sir" (and the 50 times I'd written it the previous night), and now, in my present actions I was functioning somewhat like another man's servant.

The humiliating effect of all these realizations had my dick poking against my shorts over and over, forming a spot of pre-cum on the front. Derek noticed, and said, "Ha! God damn, dude, these chicks must've made you horny as fuck. You went downstairs and back, and you're *still* hard. Well, come on over, and like I said, feel free to do what I'm doin'."

"Oh, uh... that's okay, I... I'm, uh... I don't really... um... I just... wouldn't be comfortable..."

"Okay, suit yourself. Don't mind me, then. Here, hand me that stuff."

Just then I had the impulse to say "Yes sir." I caught myself, and then almost said, "Okay", but then I felt like Lila would disapprove. But then, I couldn't say "yes sir" either. I mean, that would just be weird. Derek was my friend. He wasn't a "sir". And saying such a thing to him would surely have struck *him* as weird, too. So I just handed him the tissues and lotion. Then I started to go back to my pallet on the floor to settle myself in, but Derek said, "Where you goin' dude? You don't wanna watch?"

"Um..."

"Come over here and watch 'em with me."

"Um. All right."

Derek kept noticing that my raging boner was twitching in my shorts, and kept encouraging me to take it out. I kept declining, and he said, "Well, when I'm done, I'm gonna shut down my laptop, so if you don't do it now, it's gonna be blue balls tonight, dude, hahaha." I didn't say anything. Then he said, "You plannin' to go to bed horny, then? Haha."

I said, "Um... maybe. It's okay, though."

"Well, you better rub one out before we go out tomorrow night, because you might get lucky. And if you do, you're gonna shoot way too fast."

I thought to myself, Losers like me don't get lucky. But I said nothing.

When Derek came, I couldn't help but be painfully aware of my "loserness". There he was experiencing ecstatic pleasure, right next to me, sitting on *my* bed that he was going to sleep in, while I sat, my dick still in my pants, twitching, leaking, and unsatisfied, which it still would be in a few minutes when I'd be lying on the floor. He shot jizz all over his chest, and when he was finished, he said, "Whew. Hand me some of those tissues, dude. Or, do you wanna help me clean up? Hahaha."

"Um. No thanks. Here you go."

As soon as he'd wiped himself up, before I realized what he was doing and could stop him, he tossed the tissues into the little bin beside my desk. "Oh!" I blurted. "Um... that trash can doesn't have a liner in it. I just put paper and stuff in there. I don't really want... uh... "

"You don't want my jizz in there? Haha."

"No."

"Oh, sorry about that. Well, you can take it out and take it somewhere else. Hahaha."

I sniveled. "Um. Could you... um, do that? Please?"

"Nah. I'm ready for bed now." He closed up his laptop. "Guess it's bedtime for you, too. And blue balls. Hahahaha! I warned you, dude."

I sighed. Then I got up off the bed, my raging boner still clearly visible through my shorts, and bent down to pick up several pieces of jizz-soaked tissue. I winced as I lifted them out, and heard Derek chuckle as I carried them out of the room, to dispose of them in a bin in the bathroom across the hall. A bin with a liner, to keep gooey stuff like, oh I don't know, *a friend's CUM*, from getting on the sides.

The next morning I woke at around 7:30. Derek still slept, and my dick still twitched. I decided to go ahead and get up, and have a shower. A cold one, to try and tame my horny boner and maybe prevent it from embarrassing me in front of Derek more. By 9, Derek was still not up, and I was downstairs having breakfast, aware that we were due to see Lila in two hours. I decided to go ahead and call her, because ... well, I kind of always wanted to talk to her, all day every day. She was the only person in my life at that time who knew, and understood, the things going through my mind, and the evolution of my emotions over that period. Reflecting on last night's strange event, of seeing a live cam girl site for the first time, and suffering the humiliation of having to sit and stew in horniness while my best friend "rubbed one out" right in front of me, it seemed significant enough that Lila might want to know about it. So it gave me an excuse to call, even though I'd see her in person in just a couple hours.