A Visit to the Therapist

Peter Simmons felt terrible: his life had literally fallen apart, what he dreaded had happened, and now he must take the consequences. He had been caught and arrested for stealing a pair of panties from a neighbour's washing line. He had been exposed as a pervert and lost his job, and shamed himself in front of all who knew him. What's more his mother had to bear the shame as well, and he loved her dearly.

Peter lived with his widowed mother in a three bedroom, semi detached house. They had lived together now for 5 yrs, since his sister left to get married. He was 35, and a confirmed bachelor, in fact he was often embarrassed when teased about the fact that he had never been seen out with a lady friend. Not that Peter had many friends; he was somewhat of a recluse occasionally going out for a quiet drink at the local pub.

What of his sexuality? Well he was a fetish, and had been for many years secretly harboring his desires, quite ashamed of his inclinations, yet unable to control them; a common problem to fetish types, who knowing they are abnormal, try to fit into society as best they can. Eventually he broke the bounds of the sensible pursuit of his pleasure and was caught in the act of stealing panties due to his overpowering lust. His sister refused to speak to him and his mother cried dreadfully and would not let him comfort her, but instead pushed him farther away as if she could not trust him.

He was referred for treatment and received a heavy fine being bound over to keep the peace. As a result of the case he was required to attend therapy sessions, the results of which would be reported back to the court in three months. This was his first visit to the therapist and he was very nervous, the whole thing was a traumatic experience which he would rather forget about. "Sit there Mr. Simmons," said the receptionist, "I will tell Ms. Landower you are here." Hearing the 'Ms.' frightened poor Peter even more. He had expected to see a man not a woman; he just did not relate with women they made him shy and nervous.

He was shown into a spacious office with several armchairs and a small desk with a telephone and numerous files and papers. Behind the desk sat a middle aged lady who looked at him over her glasses and smiled, "Do sit down Mr. Simmons thank you for coming," she smiled again and he could see a perfect set of white teeth behind her thin lips. "Let me make it clear that what is said in this room is in perfect confidence between us, and that my final report will be read and signed by you before it goes to the court. We need to be very frank with each other, remember I am a woman of the world and a therapist and am not here to judge you; my main purpose is to see what threat you pose to the general public, and to help you in anyway I can with your problem. I've read all the details the case but I need to know more about you, how you feel, what drove you to steal and how, if possible, we can prevent it happening again."

"I must be frank with you, at your age there is no cure for this fetish; I will not be able to cure you, but perhaps help you to understand and come to terms with your condition. You have never had a girlfriend I take it?" She stared at Peter who merely nodded his head and flushed from the roots of his hair. "Come, come, don't look so worried we need to be open with each other you suffer from a common fetish, you're not the only one. Have you stolen panties before?"

"Yes."

"What do you do with them? Smell them?" He was so embarrassed he could not look at her and merely nodded his assent. "You do realize that you can't go around stealing ladies underwear? Have you ever been tempted to assault a female?"

"No! Never! I would not do that!" he stammered.

"You do know you can buy used panties if you make the right contacts, I take it it is used ones that you find stimulating?"

Peter stared at her amazed at this suggestion was she meaning it was alright to sniff panties an activity he had done in secret for years. "How many pairs do you have at home? Or were they all taken by the police?"

"They took them all" he looked depressed and sad. At this point Ms Landower excused herself and went outside

"I won't be a few minutes." she said.

Peter watched her plump form as she walked passed him to the door he wondered for a moment where she was going and he sat looking at the notes on the desk, not daring to read them. She came back into the room with a pair of nylon black panties in her hand which she dangled in front of his shocked face. "Go ahead smell them. They are mine. I've just taken them off for you to smell." Peter was so staggered he did not know what to do. Was this a trap to catch him out, he already felt crushed by circumstances, the sight of the panties and the aroma were to much to resist he breathed deeply through his nostrils and desire began to take a hold of him.

She watched him smiling and patted him on the head, "Things aren't as bad as you think dear boy some ladies do understand these urges felt by men you know. Now listen carefully I have been asked to give you a few sessions of therapy so you will come to see me again at this time next week and make sure you bring my panties back washed and cleaned ready for me to wear; oh and one more thing put them into your pocket and kneel down in front of me."

Peter was flabbergasted, he felt as if he was in a sort of dream and he fell down onto his knees. Ms Landower simply smiled at him and lifted her skirt, "Look she said I've got no panties on," she parted her legs and Peter gazed in awe and wonder at her pussy; he could not take his eyes off it. There it was, a beautiful slit covered in curly brown hair; he could see the outer lips and her stockinged thighs with attached suspenders. She pulled her skirt back down,"Now be a good boy and off you go. I will see you next week as arranged. Peter stood up in silence; he could hardly take events in, the bulge in his trousers making Ms. Landower smile. "Good bye" she said.

We must stop the narrative at this point to examine the inner mind of Susan Landower what was she up to and why? Ms Landower was a single career woman in her late forties she was a staunch supporter of women's rights, having fought her way to the top of her profession in a mans world. She had a taste for men but she liked to be in control of any relationships she had, and the fact was that she did not have much time or taste for the niceties of courtship. In Peter she saw: an inexperienced, but good looking lad who needed a little help, (she felt sorry for him) and who could fit into her lifestyle and give her some fun and pleasure. Susan had no qualms and no illusions, she knew that he had a serious panty fetish that was with him for life, but she felt she could maneuver this to her advantage, at the same time helping him to come to terms with his sexuality.

Peter felt very strange at home in his room he took out the panties and sniffed; in his mind he could see that beautiful pussy so delicious nestling in between her legs. It was the first time in his life that a woman had taken any notice of him apart from his mother and older sister. His mind was full of questions: What was he to do? Was she serious? Why was she so nice to him? Was she married? Where did she live? He was hard now and he resolved to masturbate as he tasted the juices that had impregnated her panty crotch, the whole incident fired his lustful imagination and he came quickly spurting over the black nylon mixing his semen with hers.

When he went for his next interview he was nervous and did not know what to expect. He had straightened himself up and carried the panties washed and carefully folded in a neat paper bag.

"Come in Mr. Simmons, do sit down I will be with you in a minute. She took a key from a draw in the desk walked passed him to the door and locked it, "Just so we don't get interrupted. That wouldn't do would it?" she laughed a deep meaningful laugh. She came up behind Peters chair and suddenly he had a pair of panties dangling over his face and as she held them there she whispered into to ear: "These are mine panty-boy, smell them-- you're my panty-boy now. Smell Lady Susan's worn knickers," as she rubbed the crotch on Peters nose.

Peter could not believe his ears, his dreams were becoming reality all he could do to show his acquiescence was lick and kiss with fervor. Again her mouth was at his ear "Now for the real thing my panty-boy, get down on your knees" He obeyed instantly his open mouth turned upwards. She smiled down on him and patted his head, "Good boy" she said and she lifted her skirt standing over him. "Smell them while I'm wearing them go on put your nose in." as she said this she put one leg over his shoulder and he could see the stretched nylon crotch covering her beautiful pussy with the hairs sticking out on ether side. He buried his upturned face in the crotch and inhaled the perfume of her womanhood and she rubbed her panties in his face. "Lovely my sweet panty-boy," she held the back of his head as she smothered him in her crotch,"Ah lovely. Just how Lady Susan likes it."

Susan knew just what the young man needed and she was going to give it to him since deciding she was going to have a relationship with him; she was enjoying herself and beginning to get worked up she could feel her juices beginning to flow. What a sweet boy this Peter was. He would suit her fine, no demands, no tantrums, and no stupid romantic notions.

She sat down in the armchair and opened her legs, "Get in between my legs Mr. Panty I want you to pleasure me to orgasm before you go." Susan soon had her legs over his young shoulders and he was sucking and licking away, "Good boy now put two fingers in and suck the clit at the top. Tongue it. Tease it. Ohhhh lovely keep going! Ohhhh!" she was bucking now as he furiously applied his face and tongue. Peter had never known such pleasure. He was in his element; this was what he had often dreamed of. He was engulfed in her beautiful pussy drinking her juices lapping at her lips feeling the thrust and pulse of her pleasure, listening to her noises.

When the storm was over he withdrew his head and looked up at her in adoration. Susan laughed "My goodness what a mess your in!" she handed him some face wipes; he licked his lips "I love that pussy" he said. "Can I have one last lick please?" She laughed again, "Silly panty-boy, you're my boy now, next time it will be in my flat now get cleaned quickly you have to go." In the next few months Peter made frequent visits to Ms Landowers flat and they became firm friends. She had found in him just what she needed, and he had found in her the fulfillment of his fetish. He never bothered her but was ready to go whenever she rang him, and his mother seemed to be pleased that he had a girlfriend at last.

Which just goes to show sometimes disasters can take a turn out for the better. Peter found another job serving petrol in a garage which although it did not pay him as much gave him a living. But more important than this by far he found sexual satisfaction, a possibility he had hardly dreamed achievable.