tagCelebrities & Fan FictionBritta: The Reverse Psychologist

Britta: The Reverse Psychologist


(This story takes place during the 3rd season of the television series Community and includes the characters of Britta Perry and Annie Edison.)


Annie Edison fled the psychology classroom, stepping through its doorway and out into Greendale's halls. The pretty brunette scurried along an empty corridor, carelessly gathered papers cascading loose from between her arms. The student had left in a hurry, for once her work completely forgotten. During classes the school was surprisingly quiet and open, and Annie was glad; she never liked to be seen this mad.

As ever the brunette had attempted to help a beleaguered friend and, as ever, the plan had backfired. Could she really even blame the faux therapist for being so clueless? Annie huffed angrily; she felt like a fool, of course she should have known. The young woman brushed past the typically vacant form of Garret, snorting derisively as she went; sometimes she wondered whether she was the only sane adult in this place.

"Annie come back!" Britta yelled anxiously, bounding after the moody teenager, sensing she had crossed some arbitrary line. When the blonde had asked her friend to take part in an experiment with her Psych class she had been desperate, Abed having dropped out. Britta knew the honour student would be thrilled, the incentive of additional credits too much to pass up. In hindsight the trainee therapist realized she might have made a mistake asking her friend; She had not factored into her equations Annie's delicate nature.

Running down the hallway, Britta pushed past Garret haphazardly, almost tripping in her haste. Wobbling the 30-year-old student straightened up, brushing long wavy blonde hair from her face before continuing on determinedly. How did this awkward stuff just keep happening!? Wasn't there a time when she used to be cool??

Turning a corner hurriedly the blonde ran straight into another person, her roommate, whom had apparently decided that confrontation was now the best course of action. Stepping back quickly, Britta attempted to study the young brunette, scanning the girl's pretty young face for any emotional cues; a nifty trick she had been learning in psych 101.

Annie's lips twitched, her mouth a tight straight line, her brow creased with annoyance. The brunette's big blue orbs were round and angry, shimmering with insistent neurosis. Britta gulped; genuine hurt; not a good sign. This conversation was going to suck. Hoping to win their confrontation, the blonde elected to speak up first:

"Annie what's wrong?! Why did your run out of the differential just now??"

Annie glared back at her foolish friend, amazed the blonde even had to ask, squeezing her books against her pert chest and attempting to breath steadily. Even when there was no one to witness them she refused to make a scene. But her calming technique was ineffective:

"What's wrong?! WHATS WRONG?!" Annie squeaked shrilly, "You totally embarrassed me in there Britta!"

The blonde balked, responding anxiously: "Noooo! It wasn't like that; we were just practicing psychoanalysis on you! You know, discussing our theories, making a personality profile and writing it up! Just another learning exercise, nothing weird!"

Annie blinked furiously, biting back a yell and replying instead in a terse whisper:

"You told those people that I'm a repressed goody two shoes! That- that, 'due to my mother's controlling nature and overall dominance', I have no choice other than to compulsively please women, because: 'I'll never be able to please HER!'"

Britta nodded enthusiastically, proud of her diagnosis, again misreading the situation:

"I know right!? Miss Applegate said I was spot on!"

"BRITTA!!" Annie shrieked, nostrils flaring.

Britta shrunk backwards, recognizing her error. While she had to admit it was cute when Annie was angry, Even the dyed blonde knew she had crossed into the danger zone, having apparently embarrassed her friend, and so she backtracked hurriedly:

"I-I mean, my analysis doesn't matter! Since your now independent of your mother and her negative reinforcement you can grow up!" Britta explained frantically, continuing only when it was apparent Annie remained unimpressed: "That's a good thing!! I could even help you!!!"

The shorter brunette scowled upon hearing this, spinning on the spot and strutting towards the women's bathroom, still fuming. Britta, realizing she couldn't let their argument lie, strode after her.

Pushing head first through the double doors, Annie headed for the nearest cubicle. However before she could reach the nearby stall a firm hand grabbed her shoulder, turning the brunette back around once more.

Britta tried to smile warmly, hoping to calm the neurotic teen down:

"Come on Annie, let's not do this. We've both been doing so much better since, you know, our little drunken accident..."

Annie gasped, amazed that the blonde would refer to that night as their 'accident', especially when the blonde initiated it. Suddenly Britta's analysis meant a lot more sense to the student:

"Wait a minute! That's why you've been implying I'm a mommy's girl? Cos of our messed up relationship? You think your some kind of feminist Freud or something?! That I wanted to sleep with my mother, but couldn't, so I slept with you?!!"

Britta blanched, a little hurt:

"Noooooo!!! I just think you're a little inhibited and that can sometimes, you know... boil over..." The blonde petered out guiltily, avoiding the brunette's eyes.

Annie scoffed, amazed by her best friend's implication:

"Typical therapist crap, acting like you're not flawed like the rest of us. And so what? You, the adult, blame me, the kid, for your drunken mistake?! You're such a hypocrite! And I suppose you don't think its more than a little conflict of interest for a therapist to make love to her patient before diagnosing her!?"

Britta turned red, hurt by this cutting response. Annie however, was not done yet:

"Well... well I think you're a snooty know it all! Whose hippy parents were waaaaayyy too soft on her and whom at this point in her life should probably have chosen a discipline she was actually good at!"

Annie flicked the fake therapist's hand from her shoulder and retreated into a stall, slamming the door shut behind her.

Britta stood by the flimsy door, mouth hung open in indignation: Things had gotten real fast. Of course the stubborn blonde elected to continue the fight, incapable of resolving conflict. Another fantastic trait for a therapist; Instead she would force Annie to understand:

Banging on the stall door, Britta finally yelled a reply:

"Okay Annie, look I get it! You're a kid, you couldn't handle it!"

Frowning, Annie squeezed her eyes shut, casting her bag and papers onto the floor; still hoping, unrealistically, that her friend would get the hint and give her some privacy, Seconds later Britta proved herself clueless yet again, thumping on the thin wooden door while continuing to yell:

"Maybe I still have a lot to learn about negative reinforcement," Britta posited, hoping to get a rise out of the angry girl: "But since you seem to know soooo much about it, maybe you could teach me your theories!" Britta blanched as the door swung open immediately, surprised by her friend's sudden return, even if she had caused it. Annie eyed the blonde, having completely forgotten her need for the toilet:

"Your saying that you want me to show you how negative reinforcement can modify a girl's behavior? That you want to understand my mother's control over me??"

"Suuuuure," Britta replied, bewildered: "nothing throws me... After all, I'm training to be a professional Psychologist! I can handle some role-play."

Annie's reply was exasperated: "Britta, you're studying to become a Therapist, not a Psychologist!"

Britta blinked, feigning nonchalance as she covered up her mistake: "Of course, I mean, DUH! Obviously I'm just testing you!"

"Well then, since you're so keen..." Annie said carefully, advancing on her friend. The blonde reactively backed away from the suddenly intimidating teenager, her bumper colliding with the sink. The brunette just stepped closer, her manner confrontational, now almost nose-to-nose with the faux therapist.

"So you know my mother used to spank me, right?..."

Britta bit her lip to hide her shock, eyes widening in surprise. Internally, the blonde scolded herself; how hadn't she got that? Had she just volunteered to receive physical punishment from a repressed teenager she'd recently fucked? How did she get to this juncture!?

Instead of over-reacting, Britta bit her tongue, electing to nod rather than swallow her pride. Annie smiled back wickedly:

"Well then, I guess if you want to understand what that's like you'd better bend over the sink," Annie gestured behind them: "Unless, you don't think your psyche can handle it?"

"Of course it can!!" Britta blurted out in response, staying nonchalant in-spite of her skepticism: "I mean, I didn't think we'd, now... But I'm a grown woman Annie, and- and once you see this from another perspective you will realize I was right. You shouldn't let silly little slaps to your behind change your whole world view!"

Annie huffed visibly, her eyes narrowing.

"Well okay then," Britta said determinedly, stepping over to the mirrors and leaning over porcelain surface, somewhat skeptically. Turning her head back the blonde looked up at Annie.

"Just promise me you won't let this get weird. Our relationship is already screwed up enough as it is."

Annie nodded slowly, barely listening, eyes instead locked onto her prize.

The student appraised Britta's svelte bottom, as ever-clad in skintight charcoal-grey jeans. How was the blonde so skinny! Would it kill her to eat a hamburger once in a while? Annie bit her lip; the woman looked sooo good though.

As Annie inspected her, Britta breathed deeply to stay cool, reminding herself that she was still the adult here, confident she wouldn't break. Lowering her torso further over the cold china sink, the blonde felt oddly nervous in-spite of her self-belief.

The simple process of leaning against the surface, pressing her midriff downwards, was enough to stretch the already tight denim jeans further over the dyed-blonde's buttocks. Britta gave her friend easy access, as if daring the girl to strike, awkward but still determined.

Annie moved closer, gently allowing her right hand to brush the faux therapist's left cheek. When Britta didn't object, Annie palmed her friend's tush, testing its resistance.

In that moment Annie thought of backing down; this was her friend after all, in-spite of their differences. But the brunette couldn't forget the stubborn blonde's invalid arguments, her constant contradiction. Annie felt the frustration boil up once more; Maybe, just this once, she could get through to the high school drop out.

"Let's just get these off...."
Annie spoke, reaching around the blonde's slim waist and feeling for the clasp of her friend's jeans. The brunette paused, shaking her head to refocus, dark hair swishing from side to side. Why was she was getting all flustered?

Focusing, Annie managed to lower her friend's zipper, pulling down awkwardly, unintentionally dragging a knuckle against Britta's sex as she went. The blonde bit her lip, twitching involuntarily as her pussy responded to the unwanted contact. 

Just as Britta lifted her torso, coming off her elbows, Annie placed her hands on either side of the blonde's hips, tugging tight jeans down pale thighs in one swift motion, allowing the tough material to crumple around the woman's ankles.

Annie's breath caught in her throat; there it was, Britta's heart shaped ass, tantalizingly raised and ready for punishment. Her index finger brushed the lace of her friend's blue panties. It was now or never...


Britta heard the noise before she felt the pain in her left buttock, a stinging sensation she was not expecting. This quickly turned to warmth, the soreness focusing around the area of impact.

The blonde flinched, gasping for air and starting to straighten up. But before she could Annie rested a commanding hand on the blonde's lower back, pressing her over as she was before. 

"Brittttah! Stay still," Annie whined flatly. The fickle feminist was surprised by the strong tone of the girl's voice and was even more surprised when she did as told. The pale woman blinked in wonder; she'd never done as instructed before.

Surreptitiously lifting her left hand to her sore cheek, Britta attempted to rub her warm flesh. Before she could however, Annie slapped her fingers away, refusing the blonde any relief. And so Britta attempted to shrug the blow off, trying to remember she was an adult and could easily handle this.

"That the best you can do?" Britta asked weakly, brushing wavy blonde hair from her eyes.

Annie scowled, raising her hand once more.

The second swat fell harder against Britta's cheeks, landing with a shallow thwack. Before she had a chance to react however, the same palm came down again.

Stinging reverberated through the therapist ass, spreading like wildfire. The blonde visibly winced, squeezing her eyes shut.

Two more blows, as hard as the first, landed in quick succession. This time Britta did gasp, pain flaring across her backside, her lower lip wobbling.

Annie rested her hand on Britta's behind, instinctively smoothing out the fabric of her friend's tight briefs, applying pressure over the area she had previously struck. 

"Do you understand now Britta?" Annie said, getting her breath back after her exertion:

"Aren't you finding this at all demeaning?"

Britta shuddered minutely as the hand that caressed her behind squeezed a sore cheek. Embarrassed, she attempted to hide beneath her blond curls as they slipped down over her face. However Britta absolutely refused to give in, even if she was at the mercy of a teenage girl.

And then she felt that heat begin to move, radiating south and confusing her even more. The blonde blinked; surely she wasn't enjoying this?

The next smack came as a surprise, Britta having become accustomed to Annie's soothing caress. Caught out the blonde yelped, deciding to respond to the brunette's probing question after all:

"AHHH-Okay!" Britta croaked: "That hurt a little! Maybe you weren't wrong about the power of negative reinforcement. So let's just..."

"But you don't seem fully convinced," Annie said, pouting.

Britta swallowed nervously; surely this couldn't get any worse? Yet the glowing sensation emanating from her cheeks wasn't even subsiding; if anything it was getting hotter! And Annie was clearly keen to see this through, in-spite of her friend's reluctance. Britta tensed her long legs, bracing herself whilst trying to maintain a modicum of her self-respect.

This time there was no warning, no holding back as Annie released her pent up frustration. Britta stifled a cry, the accumulated pain now beyond uncomfortable, her eyes watering. The slaps the blonde felt were sharper, practically merciless, and that heat spread further, a primal part of both girls' psyche's beginning to open up.

Soon the blows started to fall like rain, one after another after another. Each time the shock reverberated through the blonde's body, arched back aching, her ass cheeks on fire. First Britta whimpered. Soon she was shrieking uncontrollably as Annie proved her theory wrong once and for all.

"Ahhh.... AHHH... AHHHHH!!!" Britta screeched, mascara blurring as she teared up. Finally the blonde could take no more: "Ohhh please, Annieeee!"

The brunette did a double take, snapping out of her lust filled haze with a start as she suddenly realizing how far she had gone, having lost her grip on reality. Gasping, breath ragged from exertion, the honour student relinquished her prize, staggering back and watching in horror as the blonde fell forward, slumping onto the sink.

"OHH my god, Britta!! I'm sooo sorry!" Annie whined, tugging her weeping friend upright and hugging her close:

"I-I don't know what happened, I just got sort of got, carried away!"

Britta accepted the embrace, glad for some tenderness after her previous embarrassing ordeal, her ass still stinging. The blonde cursed herself silently; she had been so wrong, spanking had left her a quivering wreck. Now the woman was just so glad that Annie had stopped. Sniffling and desperate to regain the teenager's approval, Britta squeezed Annie tightly.

After about 30 seconds Annie began to realize how uncomfortably hot they were becoming, Britta's nipples poking her firm breasts through her t-shirt, hard as pebbles. On top of that, the brunette realized they had neglected to pull up Britta's pants, and the honour student became all too aware that thin, flimsy fabric now only separated their bare pussies.

Annie coughed awkwardly, pulling away from her emotional friend and looking into her wet eyes. That was when she saw a familiar expression; Britta's orbs were shining with need, her mouth was a determined grimace. Then it was her turn to feel trepidation, just as the blonde pounced.

Britta pressed her lips against the surprised counterparts of her friend, kissing the brunette deeply. Annie mumbled a gasp, pushing back against her older friend to no avail. The therapist, practically frantic, pulled the student in closer, intensifying their embrace and Annie, caught off guard, attempted pointlessly to resist. Opening her mouth and attempting to speak, the brunette almost gagged as the blonde cut her off once more, the woman's tongue instantly slipping inside.

Now somehow fully making out with her friend, Annie panicked, falling backwards. Caught together, the girl's stumbled, knocking through the stall door before finally coming apart. Gasping for air, Annie felt dazed and confused. What was happening? Did Britta really get off on her first ever disciplining?? Before she could ask however, she realized too late that her friend had just locked the flimsy wooden partition. Oh no...

"Britta! What are you doing?" Annie squeaked nervously: "We said we weren't going to do this again.... mmmpHHH!"

Without warning, the blonde pinned her friend's back against the wall of the stall, pressing against her and cutting the girl off, their mouths clamping together once more.

Meanwhile Britta attempted to ignore that guilty feeling that came from yet another maddening sexual encounter with her closest female friend. Just this once, she needed this kiss, even if it was from a teenage girl. 
And what a kiss! Even on the back foot Annie could really french, her soft lips sealing against her own. Although frantic, the blonde was also tender, searching for the approval she now desperately craved.

For Annie it felt more like an assault and for a while the girl didn't like it. Britta had crushed her against the wall, leaning in, actually forcing the air from her lungs while mashing their mouths together. Trying hopelessly to get some breath back Annie yelped as her friend almost lifted her off the floor, pawing at her hips urgently.

But then Britta shifted, pressing her thigh in between Annie's, the hand in her long straight hair loosening. The blonde tipped her face further to the left and slowed down, letting her tongue glide instead of thrust, finally allowing Annie to get some air.

And then it was suddenly hot in the stall, very hot. Annie panted against the invading mouth, allowing her hands to fall down Britta's back:

"Ahhhh!" yelped Britta, breaking the kiss as Annie palmed her tender rear.

"Sorry!" Annie whispered, loosening her grip on Britta's soft buns.

The girls froze as they heard the bathroom door wheeze open and Annie gasped, just as Britta covered her mouth with a hand. The brunette's head reeled as she heard the familiar, mean voices of the cheerleading squad chattering loudly. Oh god! She could not be caught like this. What would people say?

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