[Unorthodox 01.0] Unorthodox Therapy
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However, in moments like this, I questioned whether all my new skills, composure, and philosophy weren't just layers over my real core. The insecure guy, flabbergasted during some job interview, sweating like a pig, unable to keep his boner under control.
Enough with this! The voices in my head wouldn't help me prepare for the conversation with Lina. I removed my trembling fingers from the window and inhaled the ocean breeze while working on my inner resolve. As I turned back to the kitchen area, my anxiety started evaporating. It was important to analyze its roots so I wouldn't find myself in its sticky trap again.
The special Arabica blend filled the room with its amazing fragrance. Was it pathetic that my boss influenced my choice of coffee? Probably. But one could not deny Lina had fantastic taste.
Lina. Never had I been so worked up and bent out of shape over a woman, no matter how sexy, smart or independent she was. The images of her submission went before my eyes while I was grinding the coffee beans. Could it be the idea I wasn’t able to fully let go of, the notion Lina was a goddess too good for those like me? Highly improbable. If anything, last night proved she was much more vulnerable and sensitive than she let on. It made me crave her even more. Perhaps it was too cocky, especially with all my self-doubts, but I was confident I could satisfy her needs and help her on her journey to self-discovery.
Then it dawned on me. All my previous subs and play partners had been experienced to a different degree. To be perfectly honest, when I brought Lina to my improvised dungeon, I wasn't entirely sure she was submissive. There was no way in hell she'd ever have learned of my preferences if it hadn't been for her smoking problem and my conviction D/s would help her. There had always been the hope my boss would acquire a taste for it, but Lina’s reaction had completely blown my mind. The sight of this tough as nails woman down on her knees, in rope, at my mercy, had me so fucking hard I had no idea how I succeeded in staying in control the entire evening. I’d never forget the moment she took her clothes off and revealed her delicious, shapely body and her pearly skin I'd used as my canvas. There had been a myriad of emotions in her beautiful eyes that she showed so rarely. The sound of her raspy voice begging me to fuck her nearly finished me off right on the spot, before the tip of my cock had even brushed against her asshole. I wanted to high-five myself for lasting as long as I did, for not simply pouncing on Lina and fucking her brains out the entire night. When we both dragged our feet to the bedroom, all I had the strength for was dropping down on the bed and drawing her sleeping frame to my chest. I loved the warmth of a woman sprawled on top of my entire body. The sensation when she cuddled against me and the adorable mewling sound that escaped her throat made me melt on the inside. Sleep had come over me too quickly so I couldn't enjoy being next to her for too long.
While I was trying to figure out my own desires and find like-minded friends, I’d talked with plenty of submissive girls and they’d shared some stories of their online relationships. They often involved some pretentious douchebag, a pseudo alpha male who'd claim to have a Ph.D. in the psychology of submissive women. They’d try to persuade a certain girl she was a natural without knowing her at all. Some of those ‘Doms’ would go as far as to claim all contemporary women were brainwashed by society and evil feminism. And of course, there were those who insisted that women were slaves by default, whether they liked it or not. But that was the Internet.
In real life? There was no way a man could tell whether a woman was submissive or not at first sight unless he was a powerful telepath or if she chose to disclose some hint of her hidden sexual fantasies.
Most such guys judged by superficial signs such as social behavior and dress code. Any shy, sweet and socially awkward woman in baggy clothes was a closeted slave. Every powerful woman was a bitch with an attitude and a God complex, who was begging to be taught a lesson. I wished I could say I was different but back then I was just as naïve and deluded, thinking any clumsy, introverted girl would make an amazing sub.
Then I met Allie. She was the woman who taught me the important lesson of never judging a book by its cover. She also helped me confirm I didn't have a submissive bone in my body in spite of my then timid temper, but that was a story I didn't have time to dwell on right then.
I wondered vaguely whether I should have called her earlier to ask for advice. She'd been my mentor and best friend for ages and her perspective would have been invaluable. However, I decided this was a situation I had to handle myself.
It was safe to say, with all her accomplishments, independence and spirit, Lina Riley was submissive to the bone. It was up to me to prove to her that it was nothing to be ashamed of.
I looked down the hallway towards my bedroom, expecting my overnight guest to appear any minute. When I woke she was in a state of deep slumber and didn't move when I untangled myself from her long arms and legs. The temptation to just stay in bed and press my morning wood against her pussy until she slowly opened her eyes was way too strong. However, in my extreme exhaustion the night before, I'd completely missed giving her the aftercare her sore body needed. The first scene of what I hoped to be many to follow had worn her down. She didn't move a muscle the entire time my hands were sliding down her bruised ass, treating it with soothing oil. Lina stayed in the same position while I applied pressure and massaged her wrists and ankles. It was awkward and uncomfortable to take care of her while she was sleeping. One of my favorite things about aftercare was talking to the girl, seeing her glow, discussing the experience. The connection would usually grow stronger in those moments.
Well, Lina would be grateful for my care later. Her bottom was pretty roughened up but she’d be fine. I couldn't help but smile with unapologetic sadism as I imagined my boss squirming in her chair on Monday, trying to ignore the soreness in her butt cheeks and thighs. Of course, if I played my cards right it would be the least of her worries.
By the time I finished squeezing the fresh orange juice, my anxiety was eased. The details of my plan were carefully arranging themselves in my mind. Lina would probably want to escape from the place where she had fallen from grace, without even taking the time to shower. Luckily, the point where I was standing was straight across from my bedroom and it was impossible for her to walk out the door without me catching sight of her.
Clearly, I knew her better than I thought. The door creaked open and she peeked from behind it, looking around like a fox chased by hunting dogs. Her tempting red blouse was half undone and her skirt was askew. The disheveled look was so cute on her, opposed to her usual spotless clothes and perfect makeup. For a moment, it seemed it would be a good uniform for her, but the truth was I preferred her in lingerie... or nothing but thigh-high boots. Blood rushed to my loins as I pictured Lina in different kinky outfits. Damn it, this woman was way too distracting. Focus on the prize.
She was holding her high heels in one hand and the stockings from last night rolled in a ball in the other. When our eyes met across the hallway, Lina froze in place. The shame and guilt torturing her mind must have been greater than I thought. Or did she think I was some violent freak? Given what she’d shared of her relationship history the previous night, it was possible.
So, I gave her my friendliest smile and leaned on the kitchen counter top.
“What's your hurry, beautiful?” My voice dripped with sarcasm and it only increased Lina's discomfort as she moved from foot to foot. The sight of her unable to toss me some witty comeback was just as precious as her kneeling and sucking... Oh, get your mind out of the gutter!
I placed the jug of orange juice on the counter and approached her with soft, careful steps as if getting closer to a frightened animal in a trap. Her fingers were clutching the shoes so tightly that her knuckles had gone white, in a stark contrast with the crimson color of her cheeks. Lina's pupils rarely dilated so much. They practically made her eyes black, just like those of a cat in the headlights.
She was more shell-shocked than I expected. It was crucial we had this convers
ation, for her own good. I placed my hand on her shoulder and rubbed it slowly, keeping my expression affable. Lina looked just as anxious but at least she didn't make any attempt to move away.
“Do you need to be somewhere?” I dropped the sarcasm and went with a gentle, comforting tone. “If not, I insist you stay for breakfast. I don't practice my amazing cooking skills for just anyone, you know?”
“I...” She finally broke out of whatever spell she was under and spoke. Her voice was even more raspy than usual. “I no longer have breakfast. I can't eat in the morning.”
My fingers moved to the base of her neck and stroked it with as much tenderness as possible. Lina flinched under my touch but stayed in the same spot. Her reaction was similar to the one I’d noticed while probing her ass yesterday. She held her breath and there was a gleam in her eyes. Then she straightened her shoulders and steeled herself, as if in denial of the emotion. The vulnerability behind the image of a powerful leader pulled at some invisible strings in my heart. I was possessed by the urge to embrace her, to reassure her everything would be fine, that I wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. However, Lina would be disgusted with that and think it condescending. What she needed right then was open and honest communication.
“If you become my pet, I'll really have to change your habits. I'm sure you can take care of yourself but you could use a more healthy lifestyle.”
Such a statement may not have been the smartest but it did the trick of waking her up. Lina narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. The familiar angry flame lit in her lifeless pupils. I sighed with relief. The catatonic state she was in earlier made me fear I'd done damage to her spirit.
“Listen up, Mister Dungeon Master.” Lina clenched her hands into fists but immediately released them. Could it be my therapy session was working? “I never agreed to anything, so if you think you've earned the right to boss me around because of last night, you're dead wrong. Let me refresh your memory. I said I'd give it a try once and would have no further–”
I pressed a finger to her lips and whispered softly,
“Shh. So you don't remember the sex slave contract I made you sign as you were about to fall asleep?” Lina was not amused by my attempt to make light of the situation so I continued in my most patient voice. “I told you I'd never make you do anything against your will and I meant it, but I don't think sneaking out of my house will solve anything.” It was so difficult to be a rational adult when the woman of my dreams was so close. She looked a total mess but her proximity affected me in spite of the puffy cheeks, streaks of ruined mascara and the healing hickeys on her neck. Or maybe because of them. Either way, I was ready to hike her skirt up and fuck her seven ways from Sunday. “I promise I won't try to harass or persuade you to do anything more, but let me at least make you a cup of coffee and let's talk. We both know you'll end up driving yourself crazy with anxiety about how we should act with each other on Monday if we don’t. Let's clear all the awkwardness today, okay?”
My calm tone must have eased her worry since she relaxed her strained shoulders. Lina looked down as if trying to put some distance between us. Her bottom lip was trembling so I placed a finger under her chin and made her face me. I gave her a soft smile, trying to convey that she was safe.
“Please?” I rubbed the side of her delicate jaw with a thumb. My goal was to comfort her and yet it thrilled me that my touch had such an unsettling effect. Lina moved her gaze away and spoke with fear in her voice.
“Just coffee, okay?”
“Scout’s honor.” I smiled and she relaxed some more, attempting a weak grin.
“Then I guess there's no harm.”
“That's a good girl.” I curled my arm around her shoulder and led her into the kitchen area. She clearly didn't have a problem with me holding her in spite of the protest I read in every gesture and glance. “I made you stay yesterday so you wouldn't go through sub drop. But if we don't talk it may happen anyway.”
“Sub drop?”
I needed to remember how new she was to the lifestyle.
“Yes, it can often happen after a scene like the one we had last night.” My voice was casual and I continued to massage her shoulders. “Your endorphin levels get high from the play and its intensity, but once you slow down, the discrepancy between your enhanced state during the scene and coming down to reality may lead to a mood crash. It's not a pretty sight. That’s why whenever I play with a woman, I insist that she spends the night in my bed. Physical contact and emotional support are crucial.” The urge to kiss her to bring the point home was strong but it would have been a mistake. “I meant what I said yesterday. I'm responsible for your well-being when you decide to submit to me, whether it's for one night or more.”
We entered the kitchen. Maybe it was just wishful thinking but I thought I caught some reluctance as she pulled away from me. Lina sat at the head of the table and a frown of discomfort crossed her face. She gritted her teeth and made an attempt to move to a more comfortable position. After a minute of crossing and uncrossing her legs, it became apparent sitting would be an unpleasant experience for some time.
“You don't believe in easing people in to new experiences, do you? Do you always throw your girlfriends in at the deep end of the pool the first time?” She raised her ass, ran her hand across it and winced before giving me a dirty glare. Telling her how hot she looked when she was angry would probably be like pouring oil on already troubled waters. Lina was ready to murder me even without me joking around, but what was life without a bit of a danger?
“Wow, so you already think you’re my girlfriend? I expected I'd have to put more effort into it.” Her gaze burst into blue flames. I used the moment before she pounced on me to hand her a bottle of aloe vera oil. “This will help a lot. I'm sorry I had to be so rough on you but it was necessary. Your problems run too deep and required a hard approach.”
Lina wrapped a palm around the transparent container and ran her nails over the surface.
“Mind if you cut the whole 'pet' and 'good girl' crap? I'm not a fucking dog or a trained animal. It's degrading.”
I smiled and went to the coffee machine while she was burning a hole through my back with her eyes.
“You're definitely not a dog, boss.”
She didn't say a word and I took it as a cue to continue while pouring the hot liquid into a cup for her. When I turned to her, it was obvious she was on the edge.
“You remind me more of a cat. You know cats are notoriously difficult to train, right?” The confusion on her face was adorable. She breathed in and leaned back against the chair, still wincing with every move. I placed the hot porcelain cup in front of her and sat on a nearby chair. It would have felt great to have her sit closer but I tried not to interfere in her private space. “They've a mind of their own and do as they please, but once they're properly tamed and disciplined, their performances are a thing of beauty.”
“Don't think beautiful words will make me ignore the fact you just compared me to an animal. Even if I do love cats.” Lina forgot about ranting as soon as she caught the coffee fragrance. I gave her time to wake up completely and sipped some of the hot liquid myself. Her hands were shaking but her expression once she savored the contents of her cup was one of pure bliss. “You remember how I like my coffee?”
“Yes...” There was no time for hesitation or shyness but I had to choose my words carefully. “I remember everything about you, Lina, and you have fixed habits for everything.”
Lina took another sip and drummed her nails on the porcelain surface. As she brought the cup down to its matching saucer, she stated with a guarded voice, “Spoken like a true stalker.”
“Just a former personal assistant.” I'd sure make her pay for this provocation at some point. Then the memory of her reaction to the pain play resurfaced in my mind. Given her latent masochism, coming up with punishments would be a hard job. “It was not just because I was attracted to you. I wanted to do my job well and that meant
I had to get to know you.”
“Let me guess, the fact you wanted to screw my brains out was just a bonus, right?” Her voice was biting but the corners of her lips turned up in a weak attempt at a smile.
“See? And you accuse me of being a stalker. Do you really hate that I know you so well?” The caffeine was kicking in and boosting my confidence.
Lina was studying the light wood of my table and kept her delicate fingers around the cup as if warming herself up.
“It's just frustrating my ex PA and current programmer knows me better than some of my old boyfriends.” It was impossible to miss the sadness in her strained voice.
What was more irritating – the knowledge Lina had dated such sub-par men or that she still thought I was just an employee after our incredible night? These negative thoughts could ruin my efforts so I pushed them out of my mind while considering my next move.
Lina was opening up and that was more significant than my ego.
“I won't comment on your taste in men, Lina, but domination and submission never works so well as it did with us without compatibility. Or are you denying that last night was special?”
She lapsed into silence and lowered her eyes to the coffee cup as if all the answers were there. For the next few minutes, the only sounds in the kitchen were the quiet rapping of smooth, manicured nails against the porcelain and the distant annoying chirping of birds. Even if Lina avoided looking directly at me, it was easy to see the wheels turning in her head. Some would have taken such a quietness as hesitation or a prelude to surrender.
When she finally spoke, she did it with the tough voice of a woman who has reloaded her weapons.
“Look, Thomas, last night was... really curious, different than anything I've ever experienced. I can't say it was unpleasant...”