I slept like the dead. I had really not slept much at all on Saturday and Sunday until after my unfortunate experience with Carrie. Part of me wondered if the whole thing had been a dream, but my dick was still huge, so it must have been real. I woke up around two in the afternoon which was no problem since I'd had Steffie set her appointment with Shantiqua Smith for 4:45. I read over her file again with that little voice in the back of my head doing commentary.
Confuses sex with affection...
"She's embarrassed to be a whore, so she pretends that she wants dick only because it represents 'love' when the simple truth is she's just a cum slut."
Obsessed with dieting, serious self image problems due to body issues...
"Body issues??? She's got huge tits and an ass to match. Much more and she's afraid she'll get too fat to get a man!"
Need to get her to face the underlying cause of her need to have sex and to become accepting of her body.
"Too easy..."
I left full of ideas for straighting this girl out. The voice was oddly quiet.
When I arrived, Steffie was surprised. "I hoped you would find something better to do..."
Sarcastically, I replied, "Now, Steffie, is that anyway to greet me after all we've meant to each other?"
She got up and shut the door behind me. She turned and looked me straight in the eyes. Part of me was concerned, part of me was curious, and the voice said, "You can stop her anytime." She put her arms around me and kissed me like I was her life's greatest love.
"Damn you", she muttered under her breath as she kissed me again. I felt her nipples harden against my chest and I pulled free of her grip.
"We're about to have company, Steffie. Young minds to mold, remember?"
Before she could respond, there was a knock at the door. With a heavy sigh, Steffie answered it. We were stunned. Shantiqua was dressed to go out, not for a therapy session, with her painted on jeans, a loose top with a plunging neckline and more cleavage on display than any three typical girls put together, and a fair amount of bling.
"You wanted to see what I look like when I go out, didn't you?"
Then, she noticed me. "What's he doing here? I thought this shit was private and confidential?"
"Rick is my assistant, I felt a male perspective would be valuable in your case."
"Don't I get to decide that kind of shit?"
"Ms. Smith, I would really appreciate the chance to help you with your situation, but it is entirely your choice. If you feel that you would be intimidated or anything by my presence, I can go." I tried to sound professional.
"Whatever!," punctuated by a hand gesture, "You can stay."
Steffie motioned her toward the couch while I rolled a full length mirror over there.
"Rick, would you like to start?" and Steffie went back to her desk.
"May I call you 'Shantiqua'?"
"Sure. Can we get this moving? I'm supposed to go out later."
"No sweat. You seem to have a bit of an obsession with your weight."
"I'm really fat, if I let myself go."
"So, how are you now? Are you happy with your size?"
"I ain't never happy with my bubble butt, but I look pretty good right now."
"Well, I would think you must be pretty pleased considering how much you're showing off."
"She wanted to see..." I cut her off mid-sentence.
"I know, do you have any idea why she wanted to see you this way?"
"You tell me." Shantiqua was getting more and more defensive. I was enjoying that.
"Well, it could be because she wanted to know if you gave men the idea that you were, well, easy."
"Easy? Have you got a point to make or what?"
"Well, making this as simple as I can, you look like a whore which would make me and most men think you are 'easy'."
"I do not have to sit here and be insulted..."
"How is it 'insulting'? You're dressed like a slut. You dressed your self, didn't you?"
"I do not look like a slut!"