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Stephanie's ass earns a public ass drilling at the beach.
It will take me a couple of sessions to bring her to that point, but we'll get there. She's not hard to read."
"Mr. Canfield, I've been thinking about your case, and I really feel we need to address these problems you have with women if we're going to make any progress."
It was my weekly session with Dr. Ann. She was showing more initiative than usual, wanting to impose her own goals on my therapy. Apparently, my introduction of 'Blanche' into her stable of clients had backfired. She was determined not only to cure Blanche of her problem, she was going to cure me of Blanche's problem.
"Dr. Culver, with all due respect, I think I've made it clear that I don't consider my 'problem' with women to be a problem, and that I have no interest in being 'cured' of these tendencies."
"I'm aware of the limited goals you've set for yourself, but I think a more systemic approach is called for. I don't see how you can reach these limited goals without addressing your overall attitudes toward women."
"Okay. I can see the validity of that approach," I lied. "Give it a shot." I didn't really think she had any chance of having a real impact on what were some of my more deep seated feelings, but I was amused by the irony of humoring her delusions of adequacy.
"Wonderful. Why don't you tell me about how these feelings came about."
"I don't know where they came from."
"Well, then why don't you tell me about when you first became aware of them."
Dr. Ann had suddenly launched herself into the analysis of feelings that had previously been taboo, and done so with enthusiasm. It made me wonder. Was she really interested in curing me of my problem, or had she been provided with an excuse for a clinical exploration of feelings that had always frightened her? I couldn't tell. Maybe Helen would have some thoughts.
I let Dr. Ann lead me around through my past for the rest of the session, searching for clues to the seeds of my perversion, as she now clearly thought of it. I went along for the ride and mostly answered her questions honestly, simply because there was no reason to do otherwise. On a couple of occasions, I fabricated answers to provide her with things she clearly wanted to hear. She was delighted and told me what wonderful progress we were making. Perhaps Dr. Ann's newfound dedication to my salvation was a blessing in disguise. Dr. Ann was happily pretending to be gainfully employed, we were costing the insurance company a bunch of money, and I was amusing myself by admiring her legs, imagining how nice they would look with a few feet of rope wrapped tightly around her ankles. A good time was had by all.
A couple of days later, I talked to Helen again. I told her of Dr. Ann's crusade to cure me and she told me Blanche's problem was being pursued with equal zeal. Dr. Ann had been informed that Blanche had always had these feelings, but that they had been inflamed recently when she had visited a bar that featured a male stripper.
"Dr. Ann says I'm making wonderful progress," Helen informed me.
"That's great news. And after only two sessions. I am likewise making wonderful progress now that we're focusing in on what Dr. Ann has decided is the real problem."
"We should celebrate."
"We will, but not until Dr. Ann joins the party. How soon?"
"She's nosing around the bait now. She's a bit confused about how seeing a male stripper causes me to want to be spanked. I told her he has that affect on everyone. She got this weird look on her face and changed the subject."
"Do you think you scared her off?"
"No, but she was clearly disturbed by the idea. I'll give her a week to stew, then set the hook."
"Anything I can do in the meantime?"
Helen considered a moment. "No...Yes, there is. Encourage her. My job will be easier if she thinks she's being successful in treating you. If she feels she's having a real impact on your problem, she's more likely to take on the bigger one I'm going to present her with."
"Got it. I'm certain I see the error of my ways."
At my next meeting with Dr.