You Said Forever (Club Decadence)

by Maddie Taylor

  “The restraints are for my less cooperative patients. I trust they won’t be necessary with you Regan?”

  “No ma’am.” Obviously Dr. Windham was a Domme in her private life. Regan thought she oozed authority and her dominance rivaled that of Rick’s, only she was lacking the size factor. Instead, she probably used her wicked tongue to effectively subdue a submissive instead. “You seemed so nice in your office.”

  “Yeah? That was before my day off was ruined by a naughty little girl who hasn’t been following orders and only been pretending to take her medicine.”

  “How did you know?” Regan turned her wounded eyes to Rick. How had he told her already?

  “Now don’t go blaming your Dom, little missy. I didn’t know. I only suspected until just now. Shame on you, all those weeks of therapy wasted while you have been lying to me. The problem is it didn’t hurt me Regan, the reality is that it hurt you and Rick. Other than wasting my time, I didn’t suffer at all. I still got paid for my time despite your little performance. Nice insurance you have by the way, Rick.”

  Regan gulped and averted her eyes. “Yeah, you are in trouble little girl.” She didn’t miss the frown on Rick’s face or the crossing of his arms over his muscular chest. Uh oh! The doctor indicated they should sit. Rick shook his head when she tried to climb onto his lap, instead guiding her to her own chair. However, the death grip she had on his hand could not be broken so he pulled his chair in closer to hers and covered both of her hands with his big, warm ones. It was reassuring to him that she still looked to him for protection and comfort. He was relieved to know that bond was yet unbroken.

  The doctor didn’t miss the interaction between the two and her lips curved in a small smile. This was a good sigh. “So, we’ll start again, from scratch. But first, I am going to send someone in to draw some blood and collect some urine. You will cooperate to the fullest, Regan. Afterwards, we will talk just you and me. No intimidating husband standing over you, listening to your secrets and responding with frowns or threats of spankings. No missy, you will disclose everything to me with total confidentiality. You could tell me anything and I won’t spill to your Master. That is unless you or someone else is in danger. Otherwise, you may tell me anything and I will take it to my grave. Do we have an agreement?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Excellent.” She stood and carrying a paper chart with her moved to the door. Glancing over her shoulder she gave Regan a stern look and declared, “We begin… again.”

  Rick looked after her, deep in thought. She sounded exactly like Tony. Had his friend trained the good doctor? She was a Domme for certain, but he hadn’t seen her in The Club. He would have to check into that later. For now he focused all of his attention on Regan. He held her securely in his arms when the lab technician came in and collected her blood samples. Who knew she didn’t like needles? He then followed her to the bathroom and after inspecting the ladies room to make sure there were no avenues for escape, calmly waited outside for her to fill her cup.

  He quietly left the room when the doctor returned for a serious interview with Regan. From the waiting room he made some calls and spread the word that Regan was safe and back in his care. He didn’t elaborate that his out of control sub was being evaluated by a psychiatrist. That was need to know information and short of himself and later, Tony and Megan, no one else needed to know.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Doc sat at the desk and looked through the lab reports in her hands. “OK Regan. It’s time for complete honesty here. I have your lab reports and they don’t lie. Your thyroid function is a little out of whack and you’re anemic. But what I really want you to tell me is why your hormone levels are through the roof.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Well, that is your choice, but based on your recent unpredictability, unusual mood swings, crying spells, uncharacteristic angry outbursts and your risky behaviors I have enough to deem you at risk for harming yourself and hold you for evaluation. Surely whatever you have been hiding can’t be worth a seventy-two hour stint in our psych ward.”

  Regan squirmed in her chair, the doctor’s intense scrutiny was hard to take without cracking. Tears continued to run down her face. How did she have any left? She had been crying for at least twelve hours straight, not to mention the buckets she had cried over the past six months. Could she handle an admission to the psych ward? Geez, why was she even considering it? A friend had told her horror stories about her stay at the county psych ward after a suicide attempt. They were frightening. Maybe she should just come clean to the doctor. What did she have to lose? Legally, she couldn’t disclose anything or Regan could sue her ass.

  “Regan,” her stern voice interrupted her rambling thoughts, “now that you’ve processed that horror and imagined all the money you’ll get from me if I spill all your dirty little secrets, let me lay out my theory. First, you didn’t take the antidepressants I prescribed because you’ve been taking fertility treatments and were afraid you’d get pregnant and they’d harm the baby.”

  Regan looked at the doctor in amazement. She read her as easily as Megan.

  “How am I doing so far?” She laughed as Regan’s face burned bright red. Bull’s-eye. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I have a theory about last night, too. You found out another friend was pregnant and that was it for you. You also don’t think you’re good enough for the big, handsome man pacing the waiting room and have decided to free him from his marriage shackles and let him move on to a real woman. Right?”

  Holy Crap! How’d she do that?

  “Regan, I have been doing this for a long time. And you probably guessed I’m also a Domme, so I know how your submissive mind works. On top of that I am an expert in human behavior and have the added insight into your personality traits and family history from treating your sister. Are you with me?”

  “Megan talked to you about me didn’t she?” was her whispered response. The jig was up. Now Regan’s plans were suddenly in jeopardy and her immediate future was unclear.

  “You know I can’t talk about another client, Regan.”

  “That’s kind of shitty. You two can talk about me but I’m not allowed. I think there might be a conflict of interest here, Doc. Exactly whose side are you on?” Regan said with more than a little sarcasm. What kind of twisted therapy was this?

  “Regan, calm down please. Whether you, Megan or a little bird tells me it doesn’t change my diagnosis. You, my dear, are clinically depressed. Whether situational or from a chemical imbalance I can’t be sure. I do know that the hormones and fertility drugs are fueling your irrational behavior. Your perfectly normal feelings of disappointment will warp into full-blown psychosis if we don’t nip this in the bud. In addition to the irritability, anger and mood swings, you are having increased paranoia and even some delusions. You also are not sleeping and have lost weight. You’re imagining worst-case scenarios in all of your relationships. Stop me if I’m wrong, dear.”

  “No, ma’am, you are amazingly accurate.” Regan looked at Dr. Windham in awe. “Are you also a mind reader?”

  “No, but that skill would be very helpful when it comes to dealing with hard headed patients like you.” She smiled sympathetically at her offended expression, “Nope, not a mind reader, just an experience Domme and an expert in my field.”

  They spent the next hour discussing Regan’s feelings about her infertility. Dr. Windham took copious notes, frowning when it came to the name of the fertility specialists she was seeing and the amounts of drugs she had prescribed. She questioned what tests had been run and her frown increased hearing about the few diagnostic tests Regan reported had been run. She was also appalled that they hadn’t insisted on Rick being tested.

  “They told me they were one hundred percent certain it was me.” Regan’s tears picked up again. “I didn’t see the need to worry him when it was all my fault.” She reached for another tissue only to find she had emptied the box. “Damn. I can’t stop crying. I’m
really not this much of a wimp, I swear.”

  “It’s the hormones dear, as I mentioned your levels are off the charts.” Dr. Windham pulled a new box from a desk drawer, shaking her head at the confused submissive before her. “Here is what puzzles me about this. You have been in the lifestyle for years and know that honesty and trust are necessary in a D/s relationship and any good marriage. You say you’ve had these qualities with him for almost a decade. I’m surprised that you didn’t turn to your Dom in this situation but still trust him enough to play in the scene and practice domestic discipline? You also clung to him like a lifeline when you first walked in here. I think you continue to accept his protection from external forces but not from yourself. You are irrationally blaming yourself for something you have no control over. Does your thinking and behavior seem a little warped to you?”

  “I’ve really fucked up haven’t I?”

  “Yep, you’ve really screwed the pooch here, doll. Has something happened at home or at the club that has shaken the foundation of your trust, a bad scene or a ménage gone badly?”

  She watched Regan’s response. “Another woman?” Regan flinched slightly but the perceptive doctor instantly picked up on it. “Bingo. Do you think he’s cheating?”

  “No…” Dr. Windham arched a disbelieving brow at her and she continued, “Well, not exactly.”

  “That was a yes or no question Regan. What makes you think he is being unfaithful?”

  “I don’t really but there is this new sub, he works with him at Rossi.” Details started rolling out of Regan. It was cathartic, she had been keeping all of these thoughts and worries to herself for so long. “She hangs on him, rubbing her huge hooters all over him. And that spanking skirt-”

  “Whoa, looks like I hit a nerve. Good, but we’ve been in here for almost two hours, honey. Imagine what’s going through Rick’s mind so let’s quickly review my treatment plan. First, I’m starting you on antidepressants for real this time. I am putting Rick in charge of your medicine. He will make sure that you take it so no cheeking or spitting it out. Understood?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Just please no suppositories. I think he would get too much pleasure in their administration.”

  She laughed. “Good to see you still have a sense of humor. Next, no more hormones or any of the drugs prescribed by those quacks downtown. How you found those imbeciles is beyond me.”

  “I was referred by a friend.”

  “Lose the friend then, dear. They had you on two to three times the doses necessary. No wonder you were flipping out. Most of your symptoms are a direct result of the crap they had you on. After they are out of your system you’ll start thinking more clearly again. I know an excellent board certified fertility specialist at an accredited clinic that I will refer you to once things have stabilized.”

  Regan looked at her with a brighter expression on her face. Was there hope?

  “The first thing they’ll do is perform appropriate diagnostic tests to determine why you aren’t conceiving. Also, no respected professional will treat a woman in a committed relationship in a bubble. Your partner must be involved. You know what that means Regan?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to get the spanking of my life after I confess all of this to my husband.”

  “Bull’s-eye.”

  “I don’t know if I can deal with that quite yet, Doc. I feel so raw and exhausted.”

  “I understand, Regan. You need some rest and we need to get you started on meds. I’m going to give you a mild sedative. It will help you relax and get some rest but won’t zonk you. In the meantime, Rick may take you home. Let him take care of you while you recover over the next few days. The final integral part of treatment is CBT, cognitive behavioral therapy. We are going to re-wire your brain to think positively and rationally and also teach you skills to cope with your emotions and issues. I am going to schedule us CBT sessions three times a week beginning Monday. Eventually, we will include Rick and talk about how to get your relationship back on track. That is what you want to do isn’t it Regan? Get your relationship on track.”

  “Yes, Doc. But it’s so unfair to him.”

  “You think destroying a relationship he has put ten years of his life into is fair? You think hiding important information about your health and going off half-cocked is fair to him? Do you think worrying your Dom into an early grave is fair to him?

  “No, ma’am, not when you put it like that.” She put things in a different perspective and ramped up Regan’s guilt and shame. “You sound remarkably similar to Megan.”

  “Good. Our therapy must be paying off.” She smiled in satisfaction. “But don’t get down on yourself. You haven’t been thinking straight. We are going to work on that in therapy. We will be helping you figure out how to open up to Rick and allow him to be involved in decisions about your relationship and your future together. That sounds fair enough, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” More tears rolled down her cheeks and the doctor handed her more tissues. “Thanks, for the verbal spanking. I really needed it.”

  “You are very welcome. Just do what I say so I don’t have to prescribe a real one.” She winked at Regan and then scribbled something on a prescription pad. “This is not insurmountable, dear.”

  “You know, a friend said exactly the same thing recently.” Tony had held her hands and said that very thing.

  “Really? That’s one friend you should hang on to. Between Rick, Megan and your friend you’ve already received some outstanding advice. They sound like and excellent support system that you can use in the future before you go off. But no worries, once we get your depression under control you will see these things more clearly, feel better about yourself and be able to start tackling your other issues. Now, I am going out to talk to your man before he wears a hole in the waiting room carpet.”

  “You aren’t going to tell him about…?”

  “No, Regan. That is all you. I am going to talk to him about your medication and care over the next few weeks. I’m also going to encourage him to give you some time to allow the meds and therapy to work, about two to three weeks usually. Then we will decide when it’s best to lay this bombshell on him. But remember that your time is limited you can’t drag this out and avoid the inevitable. I think you’ll find him very supportive. You’ve got a good man there.”

  “I know. That’s why he deserves better than me.”

  “That’s the depression talking again, Regan. Now, stay here while I go talk to your husband.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rick watched Regan’s fingers fly across the keyboard as she entered the last few invoices into the bakery’s computer. They were meeting Cap and Megan for dinner and were due at the restaurant in about forty minutes. He tapped his fingers against his booted foot as he waited for her to finish for the evening. He was distracted by the nagging concerns that occupied his thoughts.

  His eyes swept over his beautiful wife. She still looked pale and thin and he worried that she wasn’t eating enough. Her already petite frame couldn’t stand to lose anymore. Her cheekbones were more prominent and hollowed. Although never a voluptuous woman she always had a healthy athletic build with just the right amount of curves to keep him satisfied. And her nicely rounded ass was just perfect for spanking. Just last night he had admired how the pale globes turned pink, then red as they heated up beautifully under his favorite paddle.

  As punishment for her disappearing act, he had ordered a nightly bedtime spanking. The memories of the fear and panic he felt when he thought she’d been kidnapped still gripped him. He vowed that the punishment would continue until those feelings him faded. It might take years so her butt had better be prepared.

  Damn this depression. It really had a grip on her. He remembered a conversation he had with her mother. She had described it as being in a fog and that when lifted she saw the world in color again instead of shades of gray. Doc had told him something similar. She also told him to give her time and understanding but al
so that she needed the structure and discipline that was usual in their DD relationship. He asked if she thought the nightly spanking would be too much and Doc had assured him that if he felt it was an appropriate and consistent punishment for them, then her behavior had most certainly warranted it and she needed to be held accountable for her actions.

  “Don’t back off or she’ll think you’re feeling sorry for her or that you don’t care enough to make the effort,” she told him. “The spankings will also help give her an outlet for her emotions.” She had him agree to a two to three week cooling off period before they started marital therapy, which he also agreed to.

  “Just another minute and I’ll be done here, Bear. Sorry to keep you waiting, but we were busy today and this is month end.” Regan’s soft voice pulled him back to the present and she smiled sweetly at him as she hurried through her close of day routine.

  “No problem, babe. We’re meeting Cap and Meg at La Puerta just across the street.”

  “Yummy. There’s nothing better than Mexican food and margaritas.”

  “Sorry babe, no margaritas for you. You’re not supposed to mix alcohol with your meds, remember?”

  She looked at him with a thoughtful expression, and then smiled. “You know, I actually forgot about all that for a minute.”

  “I’ll take that as a positive sign, sweetness.” He smiled back at her and uncrossing his long legs leaned forward and reached for her hand and gently squeezed it. “A very positive sign. Now if you’re done why don’t you come over here and sit on my lap. I could use a little TLC.”

  Regan shut down her laptop and slowly moved around the desk to stand between his widespread legs. He was wearing a button down shirt and dark jeans. She sat sideways on one hard thigh and slowly slid her hands up his broad chest until they sunk into the hair that brushed his collar. The overlong hair was silky soft and she worried about how busy he’s had been lately, too busy to take time for a haircut.