Breaking the Boy

***First and foremost I'd like to give a special thanks to Dr.K, but more importantly I would like to thank my therapy partner. Poor bastard. ***

Three days ago I couldn't formulate any happy thoughts because my world was all about shit, and getting shit on. When that happens I do either of two things... blurt and repress, or stifle and repress.
Depending on the remnant impact of myself and anybody involved is really the deciding factor on the blurt/stifle 'switch'.

But I do repress, hooo boy I do repress like a mother fucker. So.
Built up tension aggression and a sex drive that's at a steady idle with no right pedal... Big trouble in little Emma.

Last night I talked to Shawn, who was sitting with Dr. K. Apparently the issues between my blessed editor and I could not go without counseling, and what better person than the elusive Dr. K to bless us. Unbelievably this man is extrememly gifted in the ways of psyche, and I don't doubt for a minute that the fucker has awards pinned to his cork board. But with this one, you have to have an understanding for the strange.
So yeah, therapy.
I cannot begin to explain the conversation since everything the good Dr. says cannot be interpreted by a layman. Let's just say it was kinda fucked up in 'great fucking idea' sort of way and we'll carry on with the story.

"Perhaps its a fear of her ego rising above yours Shawn, have you ever dealt with authoritative repugnancy?"

"Pregnancy? No, i don't worry about that with her."

*emma eye roll* "Repugnancy Shawn jesus... Doc are you saying he thinks I boss him around and he doesn't like that? Tell him I don't Shawn."

The doctor laughed "No my dear, I'm saying that I think Shawn values you very much and sometimes you demand much from each other, but it's your demands that also excite his monkey mind into fallacies of minimal self esteem. I think you need to consider your roles in your frienship and companionship."

"Okay, I'm not married to her... and you know this."

"No shit fuckstick. Thanks for pointing that out as if the Dr. didn't know."

*long pause*

"I suppose what I was trying to achieve by saying that is that instead of adapting to your struggles on a daily basis, the two of you decide who really is the alpha-male. I think this too will aid our friend here in some comfort with authority and taking it constructively."

"okay, that's kinda fucked up... because he's not my boss... I just work for the guy... I don't wanna be his alpha male."

"No fucking shit, I'M the alpha male."

"Did you sense that Shawn was not only offended by that statement but that he defied you taking the upper hand on the response?"

"I need to be high right now because this makes no sense."

Anyway, the conversation went on just as maddening. Forty-five minutes (and two bowls) later we came to the understanding that good therapy for the both of us would be to finally conquer some of our fears, inner turmoil, and frustration. Experience new things, feed the repression a little... errrr.

So.. the prescription?

I got to dominate Shawn. Yes. I did.

So this afternoon I left the office with my gym bag and headed for 'the place'. During the day 'the place' is pretty darn near empty, and it's easy to find a free room to let things fly (so to speak). I was welcomed as I arrived by one of the owners and given a free drink of choice. I did a shot of Jaeger with a pepsi/151 backer and I was good. For the record, I hate Jaegger... I can only shoot it cold.

Little buzz came on while changing out of the business work attire and into my dress, panties, and stockings. My boots... I grabbed my little whip, gloves, feather, realized I didn't have my paddle... so I click.click.clicked out into the empty bar room and asked to borrow Todds.

25 minutes later I was in a room with Dr.K and Shawn. And shit was fast and furious.

Lets get something straight though. This therapy did not include me sleeping with him, putting my lips or hands anywhere near him except to induce consensual pain.... It was not like that, it was meant to be the tease of all teases for Shawn, and his first experience in the fold of BDSM.

Fucking awesome he chose me to break his cherry on that. I feel that much closer to you buddy (please say you showered).

So, as Dr. K's soothing voice rattled around in my soul like a ping-pong ball "Do you have something to say to him Emma?"
"Let yourself go and express the knot."
"I don't think Shawn understands the consequences of defiance. Make him comfortable"

make him comfortable... make him comfortable....

I'm standing there, belting out such profanities as "Yeah, you like that bitch? Do ya?... FUCK YOU you don't like it enough!" and the classic "I want you on your knees NOW little boy, I will fuck you up... and don't think I won't do it...." or even "DOWN I said, head DOWN... You want some of this fucker?" I spanked his ass with my velvet glove and struck him numberous times about the body with my paddle.

I dragged the very tips of my whip across his nose until he wanted to sneeze and then pulled his head back tight to keep him from doing it. I dug my heel in his stomach, I pulled on his nipple piercings until he screamed. I traced the outline of his manhood with one finger, but never gave him the pleasure of any skin on skin connection. I whispered dirty in his ear and then told him to fuck off and bend over as I twisted his earlobe almost clean off until he complied with me.

For me? Great fucking therapy.

And as I watched the pleasure exude from his blindfolded face, and heard the muffled climax from his taped mouth I witnessed a poor broken man that loved what he just had coming to him... I could tell he liked the therapy as well (if not more than I did).

I felt golden.

I felt refreshed.
I felt like making somebody feel like dog shit for my own sexual and emotional pleasure was something I should do every Tuesday.