[Unorthodox 01.0] Unorthodox Therapy

by Lilah E. Noir

  My infatuation was growing by the minute. During one of those rare moments when we were silent, I swear I could read the same emotion in her eyes. Perhaps it was wishful thinking.

  I didn't know whether I'd be able to give up on Lina Riley if she insisted we were through at the end of our dark, sexual journey.

  She surprised me again later when we stopped by a movie theater. The day had worked miracles on my good mood, so I decided to be benevolent and let my pet choose what we'd see. I just hoped it wouldn't be one of those four hour long art films filled with more pretense than meaning. Lina, being the minx she was, had something totally different in mind.

  “Really?” I raised my eyebrow as she pointed at the latest superhero movie poster. “Are you sure?”

  She turned to me with a mischievous expression. Her bratty nature was refreshing, but I’d have to work harder on building my authority in her eyes.

  “I haven't done it for ages.” Lina put her hands deep into her pockets and moved closer to me. “Sometimes when I was bored or going crazy with too much studying, I loved crashing on a movie like that.”

  “Crashing?”

  “Yes, pissing the fanboys off by throwing catty, snappy remarks about the plot, production design, acting. Basically ruining the experience for them.”

  I ran my hands down her hips and pulled her closer with my most stern expression. It was really hard to be firm when I could hardly contain my laughter.

  “That isn't nice of you, pet.” I whispered the name low enough so only she could hear it. “It's actually very mean of you. What a bad girl.”

  “If I go over the top, we could always go back to your place so you can spank me.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me.

  “You still want to be punished after all I’ve put you through the past week?” I dug my nails into her denim-clad buttocks.

  “It may be good for my discipline... and the therapy.”

  She was going to be the death of me.

  I wrapped my fingers around a lock of her hair and pulled it back, as much as it was possible in a public place without attracting attention.

  “Technically speaking, Lina, what you’re doing now is topping from the bottom, but you're lucky I enjoy spanking you so much. Don't think I will indulge you every time you feel like being roughed up. Good girls get rewards if they ask nicely.”

  Thomas walked upstairs to start cooking dinner. The moment I was on my own, I was hit by a cold shower of realization. The events of the afternoon rolled before my eyes like a film reel. Sweat started dripping down my back. What the hell was I thinking? Spending the day together was ridiculous and went against the rules I'd set for myself from the very start. No emotional attachment. No getting to know him or trying to form any sort of intimate relationship. But it was too hard to leave. Waking up next to him was so damned good. I hated the thought of interrupting it by leaving.

  I rested on the couch in his living room and hugged myself. My cheek rubbed against the soft fabric of the fluffy white towel Thomas gave to me when we took a shower together. Our whole date had begun to feel way too domestic. For the first time in my life, though, I didn't mind and found myself wishing it would happen more often.

  It was beyond absurd. We’d started our arrangement exactly one week ago. Most of the time, I was anxious, horny or frustrated. On the other hand, Thomas loved torturing me and was openly enjoying my distress. He had followed last night’s session with an episode of him being so tender and loving that I melted. Last night in the bathtub, I was floating and Thomas was the firm, centering gravitation, who didn't allow me to get lost in confused emotions. It was easy to feel his affection whenever we kissed or held hands.

  How could he be so dual in his behavior? Was he really suffering from split personality syndrome? So confident and then so vulnerable, as if his domination was nothing more than bravado. He caned me and denied me what I longed for. Then he held me in his arms, whispering in my ear and showing me I wasn't alone in my worries. I didn't have to carry the burden all by myself.

  Thomas exuded power and tranquility. In the next minute, I’d feel his anger, almost on a subconscious level. Earlier today, after his clumsy speech and my rude rejection, the wrath had flashed in his eyes and made me shudder. It was gone too soon for me to be scared or worried, though. I couldn't say whether he was that frustrated or my imagination had just run wild.

  There was another confusing emotion in his gaze. For a brief instant, Thomas looked genuinely hurt. Until that moment, I thought his motivation was to fuck and dominate me for as long as we could sustain that relationship. Never had it occurred to me that he might have feelings for me or at the very least want something more than sex. Maybe it was another clever manipulation. After all, I'd be much more keen to continue our weird arrangement if he convinced me we were in love. Either way, it was a perfect chance to slip away into the bathroom, change as quickly as possible and go back to my normal life.

  Suddenly, though, the thought of my home's emptiness was too depressing. It wasn't like I had no friends or acquaintances I could spend the weekend with. There were many things I could have filled my time with until Monday.

  The sight of him turning his back on me, his slightly hunched shoulders, filled me with loneliness. Maybe I felt sorry for him and wanted to cheer him up. Or I wanted to appease my own solitude. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I'd been suffering from loneliness long before my previous relationship had gone up in flames.

  It was a good excuse, but there was little I could think of to justify my behavior during the day.

  Once again…what the fuck was I thinking? That was the worst part. I was not thinking at all. I acted according to my mood, like a caring girlfriend rather than an emotionally detached fuck buddy. I flirted with him, held his hand in public and didn't care how easily someone from work could see us. His warm presence, kind attitude and occasional bursts of quiet dominance were killers to my inhibitions. I was too caught up with having fun and enjoying our time together to worry about consequences. It didn't make an ounce of sense. Normally, I always thought at least ten moves ahead.

  Many people from the company lived in Mission Bay. I often ran into them during my weekend jogging sessions. It was a miracle we weren't seen at the bar and grill or at the movie theater acting like a couple.

  What if we were seen but I was too caught up talking to Thomas and thinking of how great his fingers were tangled with mine, his warmth spreading through me?

  I got up from the couch and started pacing back and forth with increasing agitation in the pit of my stomach. It wouldn't be the end of the world if someone saw us, right? I knew that wasn't true. It would be enough for the office gossip to begin. Not only would I appear unprofessional, but Thomas's new position would also be compromised.

  The air froze in my lungs and I sat back on the couch, feeling nauseated at the thought that someone could learn my dirty little secret. Let's face it, I was not being professional. First, the businesswoman in me had insisted we would be nothing more than people who did each other a favor. Just a week later, I was acting like a teenage girl in love for the first time. Thomas didn't play fair but he didn't deserve to be getting mixed signals either.

  Hold on for a second. In love?

  I sank my nails deep into my shins and took a deep breath in an attempt to ease the oncoming panic attack. Blood rushed in my ears and cold spread all over my skin. No, no, that couldn't be true.

  The thought that I could have feelings for my younger employee was even scarier than the threat our relationship was to our careers. It wouldn't do me any good to deny Thomas attracted, aroused and infuriated me and made me feel safe all at once. I hadn’t had so much fun with a man since... well, it was difficult to say. Probably ever. My paranoia switched off completely and I merely took pleasure in being around him.

  How could I speak so openly about my childhood? The topic of my upbringing was not the most pleasant one and I'd avoided it for years. I didn't blame my
parents for anything. In a way, I was grateful that they’d turned me into the fighter I was, but discussing the past was a taboo. After all, what good would it do? It was over. There were people with much worse problems. I’d taken control of my life a long time ago, regardless of the desires and expectations of other. What more was there to talk about?

  Yet, it felt natural to tell him about me and allow him to get to know the real me with my flaws and previous selves. Over the course of an afternoon, Thomas had learned more about me than all my old lovers and some of my closest friends.

  I stood up on shaky feet and went around the room again. My heart was beating fast and the world was spinning before my eyes, but I had to keep moving, searching for a solution. Sickness rose in me again and I leaned against the wall for a moment.

  Even if we had feelings for each other, our unfortunate affair was doomed from the very start. He was too young for me. I'd turned thirty-six last month. Perhaps Thomas was obsessed with me at the moment, but how long would that last? Whenever I broke up with someone, we'd go our separate ways and move on. If we tried to actually date and it didn’t work out, there would be serious repercussions.

  The whole D/s aspect was another problem. Thomas was deeply into it and I could tell he wouldn't be happy in a relationship without a power exchange, but how far could we go before it became too much?

  I adored what he did to me. To be perfectly honest, the week of constant sensual torture and cruel denial was more exciting than anything I'd ever experienced. The memory of our episode at the movie theater brought a smile to my face and released the pressure in my chest, which threatened to make my heart explode.

  I took the bratty behavior to the next level today. We slumped in our chairs as we watched the dumb movie. My old pleasure of picking something apart and annoying people came back in full force. Some of the audience would frequently turn to us and hiss at Thomas, “Get your girlfriend to shut the fuck up.” I raised the stakes by running my hand down his crotch in a nonchalant manner and pulling my camisole down. He was unfazed by my childish behavior. Nevertheless, my deft fingers made their impact on his lower region. Thomas was painfully hard by the time we left the theater.

  When we got back to his house, I expected a cute, playful punishment. However, he was less than amused with my behavior and decided I needed to be taught good manners. Let's just say I ended up crying after the brutal paddling my still bruised ass received. I wound up telling him I was so sorry and that I'd never do it again.

  It wasn't the type of pain that made me tingle with pleasure. Thomas got really rough on my ass cheeks, pretty much like when he caned me for the very first time. It would be a stretch to say I enjoyed the pain itself, but his steely dominance and lack of reluctance to put me in my place made me even wetter than I had been in the morning.

  My punishment session ended with him fucking me on all fours as he was equally aroused by my teasing and tearful submission. It was amazing how each time was better than the last, and unlike my other relationships, I didn't have to close my eyes and think hard in order to have an orgasm. On the contrary, my efforts were in not cumming before my Master allowed it.

  When we both had our climax, we lay on the bed in an embrace, trying to calm down. Thomas stroked my hair with affection and I whispered against his chest.

  “You turned me into a nymphomaniac slut.”

  “You always were one, boss.” He kissed me deeply and rolled on top of me. “I just helped you realize it, but I like you that way.”

  To make things worse, I also agreed to stay for dinner. Thomas raved about his notorious cooking skills and insisted he wouldn't take no for an answer this time. It was early enough and I'd still have time to go back to my place. I was sure he’d try to persuade me to stay for one more night. It was all too tempting.

  No! I had to put an end to this mess. It was my fault he was getting the wrong impression. Today was probably the best time I'd had with a man but it would never happen again. We'd go back to how we were and focus on my therapy.

  Just then, I realized I hadn't thought of smoking since Monday morning.

  The sun was casting its golden shadows at my feet. The warmth of its final rays of pure beauty made me choke. I couldn't help but draw a parallel.

  All good things must come to an end, but why did our end make me so sad?

  It was all about sex. Right?

  I sighed and walked back to the bookcase to distract myself while my hair was drying. This would be our final day as merely Thomas and Lina, two kindred spirits. I wasn't ready to leave, not yet. Two more hours and reality could start again.

  A smile crept onto my lips as I ran my finger down the spines of his books. The guy was quite the collector of technical literature way past its hay day. Maybe it was a strategy. Someday, these babies could be considered rare items. Whatever his motivation was I found it strangely endearing. Even if I believed the past belonged in the past.

  Just then, my attention was drawn by a thick volume with faded lettering for the title. I recognized the dogeared book immediately, puzzled that Thomas had a copy of it. It wasn't the latest edition of Principles of Compiler Design from 2006 when Monica S. Lam joined the team of Aho and Ullman. When I pulled it off the shelf, I realized it wasn't even the ‘Red Dragon’.

  “Someone is snooping around.” His voice startled me as I held the book with wide eyes. It was a simple, campy drawing of a white knight battling a green dragon. It was more like a fairy tale compilation than one of the foundation works of computer science.

  Other times I'd have felt guilty or at least acutely embarrassed for going through his things.

  “You own a copy of the freaking Green Dragon book?4” I raised the book with its cover facing him. Thomas was standing at the foot of the staircase. He groaned dramatically.

  “Here we go again. I can't possibly have a girl in my house without her going through my dirty laundry.”

  “You never said I wasn't allowed to look at your books.” I looked down at the edition in my hands and grinned at him. “As a matter of fact, you told me to make myself at home.” Thomas rolled his eyes at me and came closer to the bookshelf with a sheepish expression on his face. His sudden shyness made the situation even more curious. “It's not like your geekiness is a secret. I just can't believe you own the 1977 version.”

  “It's kind of embarrassing.” He looked down and his black hair fell over his eyes. It was cute that Thomas thought owning an old textbook was some sort of dirty secret. It made me want to probe deeper.

  “Come on.” I held the book in one hand and wrapped my free arm around his waist in a way too intimate manner. It happened naturally and I didn’t even realize what I’d done until it was too late. “You owe me that much.” Thomas still looked reluctant but that wouldn't appease my determination. “All right then. An embarrassing story for an embarrassing story.”

  He looked up with a gleam of curiosity. Oh, what the hell? I’d told him so much today, what was one more shameful tale?

  “The only time in my life I was actually drunk was at college, at a friend's birthday party. I had too much tequila and vodka.” It was my time to blush hard. “I danced in the lap of my shyest co-ed. He stuttered if a woman so much as talked to him. The poor boy has been avoiding me like the devil ever since. Then I lost my keys in a puddle of rainwater and ended up sleeping in front of my room. Your turn.”

  Thomas laughed at my silly story. He curled his arm around me and stared at me with amusement.

  “I wish I could have been a fly on the wall to witness Drunk Lina's Naughty Shenanigans.” The bastard kept on laughing and I rolled my eyes at him. “I'd never peg you for a party girl, boss.” He leaned forward and kissed my neck. “But I wouldn't throw you off my lap if you ever feel like recalling the good old days.”

  “Thomas,” I scolded him while laughing myself. “Come on, spit it out.”

  “All right. This time, I'll let you win, though, technically, I never agreed to retur
n the favor.” He winked at me and his eyes became serious once more. “When I was a kid, my mother had already started to control everything I did, as you know. She wanted me to be well-read, intelligent, and sophisticated, to develop my mind, all that jazz. To her, genre literature was junk food for the brain, especially sci-fi, fantasy or pulp fiction. They were strictly forbidden in our home. Good thing there was the school library. I have died of boredom reading nothing but the classics.”

  “Your mom really is quite a piece of work, but what does that all have to do with the Green Dragon?”

  “I'll get to that part, you impatient minx.” He slapped my ass through the towel and pulled me closer. “When I was fourteen, I accidentally ran into a cardboard box with some old books that belonged to my father. She kept all his possessions shut away. I guess it was too painful to have his things lying around. Most of the books didn't provoke my interest except for the Green Dragon.” Thomas blushed hard and gave me a hesitant smile. “It was the only book out of the batch with a bright, colorful illustration. I was really crazy about fantasy at the time.”

  I rubbed my palm against the small of his back and smiled at him. The story endeared me more than I expected.

  “You thought the Green Dragon was a fantasy novel?” I burst out laughing and pressed my forehead to his shoulder.

  “Women. They make you share secrets with them and then laugh at your dorky memories.” Thomas was still blushing but he got over his embarrassment a bit and joined me in laughing.

  “Sorry.” I kissed his cheek. “It's adorable but you can't blame me for finding it funny as well. Weren't you tipped off about the book’s content by the title?”

  “Yeah, I guess Principles of Compiler Design was a bit of a giveaway that it wasn't a fantasy novel.” He pressed my body close to his and kept caressing my waist. “The cover caught my eye and I was puzzled by the title. In the end, I decided it might be worth seeing what it was about. I hid it from my mom and, well, I was fascinated. This book became the reason for my obsession with programming.”