A Different Kind of Therapy Ch. 04

Ms. Nitsugawa glanced into the conference room as she went past, but didn't stop or say anything. I saw her disappear behind yet another door as I sat to take my shoes off. I stood up briefly to slip my hose and panties off my bottom, down off my legs and feet. So much easier to take them off when you're sitting down. I folded them and my bra and put them on to the table. I was standing there, just finishing, facing the door when she came back in. She had a leather belt in one hand and some kind of multi-colored cloth flogging thing in the other. "I forgot to say," she said as soon as she entered, "call me Libby. May I call you Pam?"

"Please, Libby. Whatever you want."

"Okay. Good. Pam, listen to me. Step out from behind the table." Those magic words again. I stepped around so I was naked in front of her, my hands clasped in front of me; in front of my sex. "Let your hands go. Relax." I let my hands fall to my side. "Quite a bush you've got there, Pam," she smirked, "don't you ever trim it?"

For reasons I can't begin to tell you, my nipples immediately got hard. "No. No, I don't. Never really thought about it."

"You should think about it. It feels marvelous waxed. Hurts like hell for a minute, but...." she trailed off. "Okay, turn around. Hands on the table. Bend over a bit." I did as she asked and she gasped. "Oh. Oh my. That is one red bottom. This isn't your first Therapy of the day, is it, Pam?"

"No."

"And did you have one yesterday too? You're just starting out, right?"

"Yes. And yes." I was still standing with my hands on her table. She stood behind me, I couldn't see her at all.

"I'm not supposed to ask, but who was the therapy with. I think I know most of the girls."

"Helen Brooks, yesterday. And Odessa Adamms this morning."

"Momma Dess? No wonder you're so red. Well, I don't think your ass needs any more beating. Turn around." I turned around to face her. It had been easier when I wasn't looking at her. She'd put the flogger down and just held the belt in her hand.

"Your profile says that you respond to your pussy being spanked. Maybe I should just spank you there. What do you think?"

I shivered. "I couldn't say, Ms. Nitsugawa."

"Libby," she said, a little exasperated. "Call me Libby. Well, we'll see. You have some good sized tits too. Maybe...." She lifted the belt, which she held doubled in her right hand. Gently, teasingly, she flicked my nipples in turn with the belt, first in one direction, then the other. Then harder, she struck each one with a quick blow to the side, once, and twice.

My hands flew up to cover my breasts. That fucking hurt.

"Put your hands down, Pam."

"My ass is one thing. But not my breasts."

"We'll do more than your tits by the time we're finished, Pam. Listen to me, Pamela. Put your arms down." I dropped them to my sides. "Now ask me for your therapy."

"Please, may I have my therapy."

"Please may I have my therapy, who?"

"Please may I have my therapy, Libby?"

"Why of course you may, Pamela." Then she turned and put the belt down on a chair and picked up the flogger. In a move like a dancer, she turned back again in one movement, the flogger swinging wide in her arm and it struck me sideways across the breasts. She continued the movement in a figure-eight, rolling it around in her wrists to come down on the other breast. "Count each hit," she said.

"One. Two...." I made it to twenty, ten strokes on each breast before she stopped. My breasts hurt but my pussy was on fire.

"And now you have a pretty pink clit poking out from that plentiful bush. Maybe I should spank your pussy now. What do you think?"

"I don't want you to. Please don't, Libby. Please."

"Your words and your clit don't seem to be in agreement. No matter. Get up on the table. Slide back so your feet stick straight out." I complied. "Now hold your hands out in front of you too. Palms up. Good."

She casually tossed the flogger down on the table then returned to the belt. If she looked like a dancer a moment ago, her movements now were like a butterfly. The doubled up belt flew through the air, hitting the palms of my hands and the bottoms of my feet in a pattern that I couldn't for the life of me discern. She'd hit foot, foot, hand, foot, hand, hand, foot, hand, foot, foot foot. It was a struggle to keep my hands outstretched, but I knew I was supposed to, and I really didn't want to get her mad, so I held them as still as I could.

I lost track of how long this continued. Now not only my bottom was red, but my hands and feet as well. And my nipples were hard and I was creaming between my thighs. Thighs, which I realized as she stopped, had drifted wide apart.

"My, my, your legs just love to spread, don't they, Pam? Well, as pretty as your pussy is, we're not here to satisfy that urge of yours, much as I might be tempted. But come. Slide your ass forward. No, keep your legs spread. Sit on the edge of the table. Right there." Without warning, she slapped my face with her hands. Once, twice. Then her slaps went to my breasts, hitting them right, left, up and down. And finally, without warning she began spanking me with her hand on my exposed and vulnerable sex.

That was enough for me. I started to shiver and soon was shuddering to an orgasm. And when Libby didn't stop, another one. And then she stopped. She pushed my legs together and picked up her iPhone from the side of the room. I hadn't seen her put it there. She sat in a chair, ignoring me while she filled out the survey. And in a second my phone chimed from the Therapy App.

I got up off the table and went to my purse, but she stopped me. "You can fill that out later. For now, get dressed and get on your way. I have some business to attend to. You can let yourself out." She left the room headed for her office, leaving the door open behind her.

I shivered for a few moments and then managed to get dressed. I left my stockings off and pushed them into my purse since I was headed home. As I was leaving, I turned and looked into her office, expecting to see Ms. Nitsugawa working on her computer. But she was sitting in her chair, her feet spread wide and up on her desk, her hand leaned back and her eyes closed. Her hand was between her legs and I realized I heard a buzzing noise. Oh my God, she's masturbating, I thought.

I was actually torn between the desire to watch and the desire to get out of there. The latter feeling won. I turned, left the office and got back in my car to go home. Maybe there'd be time for my own vibrator tonight.