"Why don't you get comfortable." The therapist said in his baritone voice. "I understand this is your first time seeking therapy?".
"Yea ... it's a little embarrassing," I admitted as I made my way to the soft green couch in the middle of the room. A warm light was coming from two lamp shades behind the couch, illuminating a dark wood paneled room stacked high with bookcases.
"Well, we'll take things one step at a time." He smiled reassuringly, a twinkle playing across his startlingly green eyes.
"Just lie down on the couch, and I'll sit on this chair over here." He said, pointing to a plush red armchair just behind and to the side of the couch.
"Now my habit is to record sessions so I can better focus on my client instead of being busy writing notes. If you don't mind, I'll start the recorder now. And of course, you needn't worry - everything is strictly confidential here." He emphasized the point with a slight nod that let one of his half-length, salt-and-pepper locks fall across his face.
I nodded slightly, trying not to stare at his handsome face too much. Men had become so ... distracting ... ever since the incident. That's what I called it in my head - the "incident". Anything to make the events feel more removed from myself and less overwhelming and all-consuming. I hadn't been able to focus on anything since that day. Well, anything but ...
I shook my head slightly, trying to clear my mind. I bit my lip, and focused my eyes on the green couch, settling down slowly on my back with the therapist out of sight. I heard his deep voice drifting up from behind me.
"Now, just start at the beginning: What would you like to achieve in our sessions and what thoughts or experiences would you like to discuss?" he asked.
"Ok, so this is really embarrassing for me ..., "I started," but something happened to me that I'm really ashamed of and I can't stop thinking about it. I dream about it every night. Sometimes I hope it happens again, but then I also don't want it to happen again, you know? I'm just really confused."
"Confused, hmm-hm," he mirrored.
"Yea, so I guess what I would really want is some clarity and for the thoughts and dreams to go away." I finished.
"Yes, processing and closure. Very good. Let's start by talking about what happened." he said.
"Ok, well ..." I hesitated. "It started when I hurt my hip doing a workout. A friend of mine recommended a physical therapist, and the guy just worked magic, you know? He'd give me these massages and the pain would just be entirely gone. That would last for about 3 days though, while my appointments were weekly. So after a few sessions, I asked the physical therapist if I could have an extra session that week. He said he was really busy though, but I kind of pushed him. Said it would mean a lot to me, and I was flexible with time slots and all that. He was quiet for a bit and then suggested I'd come over to his practice in the evening the next day when he was finished with all his clients. I was really happy about this and thanked him profusely."
I was quiet for a while.
"And did you go to your evening session?" The therapist prompted.
"Yes, yes, sorry." I stuttered. "I did. It was dark out, and cold. And the practice looked kinda dim instead of the bright light flooding through the windows during the day. Anyway, everything started like normal. I took off my pants and lay down on my belly on the massage table. The guy would then just massage my hip for 20 minutes. Like one of those deep tissue ones, you know. But it was evening, and I was feeling really really tired. I think I dozed off a little. Ended up in this sort of half dream state like I sometimes do. I guess here is where the embarrassing part starts ... I think I sort of ... like ..."
I bit my lip, daring myself to continue speaking. I screwed my eyes shut trying to calm my breathing.
"You sort of ..." the therapist prompted.
"I sort of... moaned," I whispered softly, half hoping he didn't hear me. " ...like when he was massaging me. I think I started moaning softly in sort of a half sleep."
"Ah, " he cleared his throat, and I could hear his clothes rustle as he shifted in his seat. " you moaned...?" he repeated in an unexpectedly husky voice.
"Yes ..."
I was starting to feel the heat in my face. Unbidden thoughts were returning. Words started tumbling over each in my head.
"I didn't mean to," I continued in a rush, "I just ... I wasn't thinking. And the massage was so relaxing, and it was late and I was tired. And I didn't even realize what I was doing. And it shouldn't really matter right? He was a professional. I'm not even sure what happened after that, cause I was still sort of dozing. It all happened like in a dream. It felt like he paused in the massage, and then shifted my legs apart a little. I was feeling so languid and relaxed, I just went along with it. Then I felt him climbing up on the massage table and then his knees were pressing up against the insides of my thighs. And all the while he kept massaging me and it was great, like really great. Really relaxing. And I was still making those sounds I think. And then his hands started moving away from my hips and making small circles across my ass, moving outward. I could feel the muscles stretching and it felt so amazing. His thumbs were digging deep into the tissue and it sent tingles up my spine. And with each circle I could feel his thumbs stretching and spreading me more from the inside out."
I finished that last sentence completely out of breath. I felt a heat and throbbing gathering between my legs. Still panting slightly, I asked: "Should I continue?"
"Hmm, you were talking about stretching and spreading..." he let the last word dangle between us.
"Yes, " I whispered. "I was still dozing like I said, but then he made one last circle, and his fingers wrapped around the outside of my hips, while his thumbs hooked between my thighs, spreading me as far as I could go. He paused like that for a second, and then I felt something pushing up against my pussy and it slid right in. His cock was so massive, I've never been spread that far, and I could feel his balls slap against me as he speared me on his cock in one stroke. I definitely woke up fully then - I, I ... I screamed for him to stop. Told him this wasn't what I wanted." I stuttered, words tumbling over each other again.
I was quiet for a few seconds.
"And what did he say?" the therapist prompted, his voice even huskier than before.
"He said that my pussy wanted this. That I was soaking wet like a dirty whore and moaning like a little slut. He said I had been leaving little puddles of cum on his massage table after every session..."
The therapist shifted in his seat again. His voice came more slowly now.
"Ah ... And... is that true?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly strangled.
"I ... I don't know ..." I replied, flustered.
"How did you feel with his cock filling you up like that?" He asked softly.
"I ... I don't know... " I stuttered. "I couldn't think. It was wrong and dirty, right? My mind just blanked completely, and I felt super panicked. I tried to get up. I really did. I told him to get off and to stop. I screamed for him to stop. But he just put one hand on my back and pushed me down while his huge cock was penetrating my pussy so deeply. He said: "Stay still, you little slut". Then he grabbed my hips again, and fucked me so hard I started moaning all over again. I couldn't help it. Then he grabbed my hair, and pulled it back viciously. It hurt so much, I raised myself up against his chest just to keep it from pulling out. He wrapped one arm around my chest, hand on my throat, half choking me. While his other arm kept me pinned on his huge cock, with his fingers tweaking one of my nipples hard. Then he started lifting me slightly by my throat and then ramming me down on his cock again. My head was bent back over his shoulder and he kept whispering horrible things into my ear."
