Christina: Young Again

Becky placed the heal of her hand at the top of my crack and used her fingers to spread me as wide as she could. Without ceremony, she removed the nozzle. With even less, she forcefully, mercilessly drove the plug into me.

'Oh god!!!! Take it out. Please! Take it out! Please Mistress! Please!'

Another flurry of slaps.

'Stand up! Into the bedroom!'

"You don't need to read any more." I said, fighting back my tears.

"One more." Dr Chandler said softly.

". . . She removed the largest finger of prepared ginger imaginable from a plastic sandwich bag, then tossed the bag aside.

'No, I don't recall saying anything about your ass.' she continued, 'In fact, I don't recall saying anything about which part of your body was going to be the lucky recipient of the sweet torture.'

Having ruled out my 'ass', the only (logical) place left was my . . . pussy.

'Please Mistress. Not there.'

'Not where you insolent slut?!'."

Tears of embarrassment began to find their way down my cheeks. Dr Chandler handed me a box of tissues. I shook my head no.

"The first passage. Did the phrase 'be careful what you ask for because you might just get it' take on new meaning for you after that day?" Dr Chandler asked.

"Not really." I said trying desperately to keep myself together, "When I asked Becky to be my Mistress, I had a fair idea what I was getting myself into."

"The second passage. When Becky was playing with your; maiden curls, as you called them, what thoughts were running through your mind?"

"That was a long time ago."

"Not what I asked."

I should have known better than to try and divert his line of questioning.

"That . . . allowing another woman to . . . stimulate me like that was . . . a turn on."

"Is that all?"

"No. I felt . . . humiliated. Like I did when I was fifteen and our family doctor . . . a man; had me put my feet in those stirrups so he could examine me.

"Although I had touched myself; down there, many times . . . while masturbating; that was the first time anyone else had ever done it."

"A woman's first gynecological exam can be quite traumatic. Especially when the exam is done awkwardly; as yours seems to have been." Dr Chandler said in a soothing voice, then added in a more inquisitive tone, "So why do you think Becky's touch brought back those feelings?"

"Because I had given Becky carte blanche to do whatever struck her fancy. Because I had no control. Because she; like he, was free to do . . ."

"Whatever she pleased?" Dr Chandler said, finishing the sentence I couldn't.

I nodded.

"But that's what you wanted." he continued, "That's what being a sub's all about."

An interminable pause.

I used the back of my hand to wipe away my tears.

Dr Chandler resumed. "The third passage. Becky administering the enema."

Another long pause. "Studies have shown that receiving enemas as part of sexual play can lead to very powerful orgasms. They have also shown that the act of giving over control of one's bowels to another is often viewed as the penultimate form of surrender. Which was it for you?"

My tears returned. "Both." I finally admitted aloud (and to myself).

"The last passage. The figging. Your hands were tied behind you; your hips were raised by three pillows; your legs were splayed, and '. . . I could feel my sticky pussy lips begin to separate, as my nether regions grew more and more vulnerable.'."

"Correct." I said, almost defiantly.

"Chris, my purpose here isn't to deepen your feelings of abasement (nice 'clinical' word), but rather to help you understand why you felt the way you did, and to try and get you to recognize the fact that; unlike Becky's quest, yours was 'safe'. You knew that Becky would never do anything to hurt you, just bring you to the edge and let you look over."

For the first time, I allowed the truth to stand.

"The day that Becky asked me to help her find a Mistress for a Dom/ sub session," I began, "I couldn't believe what she was asking. But, I agreed to help her. And, since my sister is in the theater biz and does a little acting from time to time, I figured she'd be the best one to help me pull it off. So, I began to script each scene; with Deanna's help. Little did I know that the ideas she was contributing came from anywhere other than a trashy romance novel."

Dr Chandler jotted a few notes.

"When Becky related her second encounter, were you shocked?" he asked.

"Yes. Both at Becky and Deanna."

"Knowing what Becky had been made to do, weren't you afraid she might push you beyond your limits?"

"I think I was hoping she would." I heard myself admit, "I think I wanted to find out just how pliant I am."

"Then why didn't you just go online and find a Mistress somewhere nearby who would give you what you wanted? Why did you turn to Becky instead?"

The question was a good one.

"Fear." I acknowledged, "During one of my online sessions with Victoria, she commanded me to suck a butt plug that I had just removed from my . . . rear."

I drew a deep breath. Started to speak. Didn't.

Another. Did. "I told her I wouldn't do it, and to move on. She repeated her command. I told her the game was over if she didn't move on."

"Did she relent?"

"Yes."

I hesitated, unable to believe that I was actually about to reveal what I was.

"As soon as we logged off . . . I did as she'd instructed. I opened my mouth . . . inserted the plug and sucked. Just as I'd been told."

Another deep breath.

"The taste was disgusting, and how I managed to keep from throwing up . . . I don't know."

Dr Chandler's eyes widened. His poker face failed for a nanosecond.

"I must admit," he said, after jotting a few notes, "I'm not surprised that you followed through and did as your 'Mistress' had commanded."

"No?!" I replied, unable to mask my own surprise.

"No. As we've often talked about, you have this . . . need, to have someone else take charge every now and again, and 'force' you to do things you wouldn't normally do."

"Which is why I let Aaron tie me to our bed." I acknowledged.

"No." Dr. Chandler corrected, "What's interesting about the times that you submit to Aaron, is the fact that even though you are relatively immobile; and theoretically unable to prevent him from doing whatever he likes, you're still calling the shots."

"How am I doing that?" I asked, almost challenged.

"When Aaron has you tied to the bed," Dr Chandler began, "and is doing all sorts of things sexual to you, he's following a; script, if you will."

Interesting concept.

"Over the years, he has learned your likes and dislikes; and since he loves you, doesn't do things that would make you feel . . . violated. He wants you to feel safe, and to enjoy the game, so that the next time he wants to play, you will too. In other words: he makes it fun for both of you."

"Not always." I said, feeling a silly smile creep to my face, "Every now and again he does things that push me too far."

Dr Chandler jotted a quick note. "That push you too far." he said softly.

The words echoed in my brain. Their truth; demanding center stage.

"Damn! He's right! I want to push the envelope." I said to myself, "I want to find out where my limits are."

"I am calling the shots." I said, amazed at the revelation.

"Yes you are.

"Now; getting back to your sucking that vile butt plug ." he said with a smile that verged on self-serving, "If it had been Victoria's power over you that forced the issue, you'd have done it; without hesitation, the moment she commanded you to do so.

"But you didn't. You waited until the game was over. When things were on your terms."

"Okay. I guess." I said, more than a little confused as to where he was leading me, "But; why did turning fifty make me want to have Deanna arrange a session with one of her, friends? Go all the way, as it were?"

Dr Chandler lifted a page in his notes and read: ". . . I think I wanted to find out just how pliant I am."

"I did say that, didn't I."

"You did.

"Now. When Victoria commanded you to suck the butt plug, you told her to move on or the game was over, and she did. Correct?"

"Correct." I replied with a touch of hesitation; even more uncertain where Dr Chandler was going with this.

"Had it been Miranda (Becky's Mistress when she visited my sister the second time) giving you the order; face to face, do you think you would have had the option to refuse?"

"No."

Dr Chandler leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

"Had she ordered you to perform cunnilingus on her, or on another woman, do you think you would have had the option to refuse?"

"No."

"Had she told you that she and four of her closest female friends were going to sodomize you with various phallus, do you think you could have stopped her?"

"No."

Dr Chandler uncrossed his arms, pulled another page from my folder and read: ". . . Becky was made to kneel in the middle of the room. She was still naked, of course. Severely weighted nipple clamps pulled her aching breasts toward the floor. Her hands were cuffed behind her, and a spreader bar secured just below her knees left her virtually immobile . . ."

The excerpt was from a story I never posted . . . never finished.

Dr Chandler paused. "What happened next?"

"Miranda and four of her female friends fastened huge strapons around their waists and took turns fucking Becky anally and vaginally." I replied.

"And?"

"They didn't stop until she was sobbing from the pain."

Dr Chandler continued reading. "Miranda unlocked the cuffs and removed them; leaving the spreader bar in place. Forcefully, she rolled Becky onto her back, then fixed the cuffs in front and locked them . . ." stopped.

"What happened next?" he asked.

"They took turns; making Becky perform oral sex on them." I replied, very matter-of-fact.

Dr Chandler closed my folder, then settled back in his chair.

"During our first session, you told me you were questioning your sexuality. More to the point, you wanted to know if you were becoming bi-sexual."

As before, I could feel myself flush with embarrassment.

"Do you recall what I told you?"

"That it was possible. That many women my age wonder if they've been missing out."

"You were paying attention." he said with a smile.

Another revelation settled in.

"Missing out." I repeated, as the concept finally took hold.

Dr Chandler smiled. "Did you ever hear the expression that curiosity killed the cat?"

"Hasn't everyone?"

"Well, in my opinion, it will probably kill you too." he said.

A long moment of silence. Dr chandler broke it. "Regarding your sexuality; I am fairly certain that you are not bi-sexual. Bi-curious? Maybe. Plain old curious? Definitely!"

"Why doesn't that make me feel any better?" I asked, not really expecting an answer.

Dr Chandler gave me his best dead-pan look. "It should."

"Doesn't."

"Chris, there's nothing wrong with being curious. In fact, I believe whole heartedly that being curious is key to being happy. When we lose our desire to learn and find out about things, we often lose our desire to get up in the morning and face the world.

"However, when we let that curiosity become an obsession, it can be very disruptive; and at its worst, very destructive."

"Which is where I was headed."

"Which is where you were headed. . ."

****** *********

Now for the million dollar question.

****** *********

"So why did I become obsessed?"

"Good question. I wish I had a good answer. But I don't."

Dr Chandler stopped. Shifted gears. "By your own admission, your postings are based on actual experiences of you and your, associates.

"Which is fine.

"Except for the fact that when Becky related the story you couldn't bring yourself to finish, a part of you decided that you'd been, 'playing it safe', and that it was now or never. That you had to find out; firsthand, what it was like to give yourself over to another woman. Preferably, a very powerful woman, like Miranda.

"Why didn't you follow through? I think you answered that when I asked if you would perform cunnilingus on Victoria were she to show up at your door and demand it, and acknowledged the difference between fantasy and reality.

"For many, the line between the two can often be nearly invisible. Becky, I believe, as she advances her research, has let it become so blurred that she has trouble seeing it. You, on the other hand, have the ability to pick it out from a mile away.

"Though you don't always choose to acknowledge the fact . . ."

****** *********

Okay, I admit that I really glossed-over this last part (about how and why I became obsessed); but I don't think you really want to read about the (seemingly) endless false starts I had to sort through (over a three month period) in order to fully understand why I did what I did; didn't do what I didn't do; and why I fixated the way I had. If I'm wrong; too bad, because I'm not going to do it. If I'm right; good.

Regardless, let's just say that the process was not enjoyable, and that Dr Chandler was right when he said I had decided I'd been playing it safe.

Let's also say, that in the final analysis, I had to admit that I really DID NOT want to find out what it would be like to put myself in the position Becky was in when Miranda and her friends did the things that they did to her.

And lastly, let me say that I'm glad I choose the path I did when I sought professional help sorting things out.

****** *********

". . . Chris, as I said before, there's nothing wrong with being curious, or wondering if you've missed out on things in life. So long as you don't let it become an obsession.

"Did you make the right decision when you stopped yourself from having your sister hook you up with Miranda? In my opinion; yes. You made the right decision."

"So; how am I ever going to find out what it's really like?" I asked, truly wanting to know.

"Honestly?" Dr Chandler replied, "There is no way. No 'safe' way. But I do have an idea how you might be able to satisfy your curiosity. . ."

"I'm listening." I said, more than a little intrigued.

"Turn your imagination loose, and write a completely fictional story where you are the heroine, who finds herself trapped in the role of sub. Have your Mistress subject you to whatever strikes her fancy.

"Just remember, no matter what, you can't refuse. If she hands you a butt plug that's just been where butt plugs are want to be and tells you to suck it; obey immediately."

"An interesting prescription." I said, with a wry smile.

"One more thing." Dr Chandler added, "As soon as you've finished; post it. Do one, maybe two rewrites, and call it done. Don't fuss with it. Let it flow, then post it."

"In short: no looking back? No regrets?" I asked.

"You've got it." Dr Chandler replied.

"Should I let you know when I've completed my mission?"

"Most certainly . . ."

****** *********

Did I (ahem) do as instructed?

Yes I did.

The name of the posting?

Christina: Corporate Revolt.

Oh yes, a quick side-note: for those of you who check the date that story was posted, compare it to the date this story began, and note the date this one finally got posted; you will see that a lot of time passed in between. Why is that? This journey has not been an easy one; and I can't tell you how many times I almost didn't relate any of this.

For that reason, this last part is separated from the rest by just under a year.

****** *********

". . . I read your story." Dr Chandler began, "Nicely done."

"Thank you." I said, with a smug smile.

"But I must ask: why did you choose the cast of characters you did?"

"You mean Lisa, Rachel and Becky?"

"The very same."

It was time to quit stalling. "To make it more real for me." I confessed, "When you gave me my assignment, at first, I tried to imagine myself at the mercy of a Mistress-for-hire that I had found on the internet. But it seemed. . . forced. Pardon the pun. So, I decided to do a little 'research' and found a posting where this guy paid his wife's friends to introduce her to lesbian sex while he watched.

"The story line was okay, but the idea of having her friends be the instructors is what I found kind of appealing."

"Like the way Rachel taught Becky all about the joys of anal sex?" Dr Chandler asked.

"I hadn't thought of it that way, but: yes." I replied.

"So why all three? Why Mistress Veronica?"

****** *********

Accepting criticism gracefully has never been my strong suit, and even though I knew the point was not to explore my creative process, I struggled to stay off the defensive.

****** *********

"Over the years," I began, "each of them has accused me of being a royal pain in the ass, and have told me that payback can be a bitch. Not necessarily in those words, but I knew what they meant.

"From there, I decided to imagine how each would exact their revenge."

"Why the character of Mistress Veronica then?"

"Her role was more; literary, than anything else. Although Becky knows what Mistresses are all about, I doubt that Rachel and Lisa do. Which means they would not possess the skills necessary to force the issue when need be. Veronica, on the other hand, doing this for a living, would have no trouble at all making me comply."

Dr Chandler smiled. "I hadn't anticipated you taking this approach."

"But wasn't that the whole idea?" I asked, slightly confused, "To get me to explore the dark side safely?"

"It was." Dr chandler continued, "But what surprised me was the fact that you didn't fantasize a one on one encounter with either Victoria or Miranda."

My expression must have given me away. A long moment passed. "You considered it. Didn't you?" he said softly.

"In the first draft. . ." I began, almost afraid to reveal the truth, "When I entered the conference room, Victoria and Miranda were the ones waiting for me. They made me strip, then Miranda had me perform oral sex on her.

"When I finished, she decided I needed to give Victoria a rim-job and anal tonguing. . ."

"Things Victoria had asked you fantasize about."

"I couldn't do it then, and I couldn't do it now."

Dr Chandler opened my folder to a page he had marked and read. "Helping Christina realize that her need to explore her sexuality is normal (and can be done safely) will be the key to getting her to understand that fifty is not fatal. . .

"That was my assessment after our first meeting."

He closed the folder, pushed it aside, then continued. "Were I making my assessment now, I would add: and impress upon her the fact that she may never be able to cross some of the boundaries she has set."

"Are you saying I should have followed through with the Miranda and Victoria tack?"

"Not at all. In fact, I think the approach you took was far better. It forced you outside the box and made you . . .think.

"What I am saying, however, is that you need to accept the fact that some things are simply better left a mystery. . ."

****** *********

On that fine note, I will end this long, (hopefully enlightening) revelation. . .

Pardon? Will I take a moment to answer a few questions? Alright. What would you like to find out?

Do I still want to know what it's like to be submissive to a strong-willed woman? Sometimes.

Do I still want to find out? Firsthand? Not really. Not firsthand anyway.

Have I gotten over the fact that I blew passed the half-century mark? Let me put it this way: I did not recently celebrate my fifty-second birthday. Nope! I'm back to being forever forty-two!

Why did I post this? To let you know that its okay to seek help when things get a little muddled and out of hand.

Do I still see Dr Chandler? Not on a regular basis, but every now and again when I feel myself starting to back-slide.