Colonel Maitland's Study

The end was kind of funny. Whitcomb kicked the Colonel and me out because of some private part of the contract that was just between Whitcomb and Jenny. Whitcomb said it didn't involve the strap or the cane, so we wouldn't need the video. At first it made no sense, but then with a sudden shock I realized what was going to happen. By then it was too late. Whitcomb had locked himself in with her.

Jenny Williams, Ph.D.

I was so thankful the caning was over that it took me a few minutes to register that no one had made any move to untie me. Whitcomb casually called Maitland over to the desk and asked him to look at the last page or two of the contract. I had to twist my head to see what was going on over there. Casben was on the other side of the room, out of view.

"Doctor Williams and I have discussed this previously, of course. You see that it is all in order? She initialed every page, including this one?"

Maitland looked at it and gasped. He gave Whitcomb a searching look.

"Well, I see it, Whitcomb. But you are the lawyer, after all, so on your head be it if there's any difficulty with this."

Maitland and Casben left the room. Whitcomb locked the door behind them, and when he came into view I realized that he was turning off all the recording equipment. He smiled at me and waved the contract.

"Well, doctor. I am now going to take advantage of the last provision of the un-coerced, freely given, binding agreement that you so happily assented to, in writing, with witnesses."

I nearly fainted. I squeezed my eyes shut and tugged uselessly against my restraints. I knew exactly what was going to happen.

Miles Casben

Whitcomb unlocked the door and came out looking pleased with himself. The Colonel and I went back in. He told me to release Jenny from her restraints. She got up stiffly and stretched. The Colonel pointed to the handheld camcorder and winked at me. I got some nice footage of Jenny crossing the room as she headed for a leather armchair. The Colonel pulled a bell rope and Jackson came in with Jenny's clothes. I filmed her as she got dressed, but she saw me as she pulled her panties up and practically spat at me.

"Do you have to get every single damned thing on camera?"

She was red-faced and obviously furious. I couldn't think of a thing to say. The Colonel gave her a drink and she seized it eagerly. But she had changed. She was distant and subdued, and as it had become obvious that this was no time for relaxation and small talk the Colonel escorted her out and the evening was over.

I did see Jenny Williams one more time in her office. It was really awkward. She had been right, of course. She couldn't be my therapist any more, not after I had seen her in her birthday suit, tied to that bed for her humiliating punishment. And especially after that bastard Whitcomb thrashed her with the cane and made her cry and sob and scream and beg him to stop. We agreed to stop meeting for therapy, and Jenny said she wouldn't charge me for that last session.

I was disappointed that I wouldn't be seeing her again. I walked out into her waiting room, hardly noticing my surroundings, thinking about my attractive former therapist and recognizing that she truly had helped me, at least a little, with my nervousness around women. And then someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I looked around to see the beaming face of Dana Merrihew.

"You were going to walk right past me, weren't you, Miles Casben! Well, you don't get away from me that easily. Here."

I had my cell phone in my hand, and she quickly touched her hers to mine.

"Now you have no excuse. My number's on your phone. You had better call me soon!"

She practically danced into Jenny's office.

© 2013 Allison Cranley

Excerpted from the novel in progress, Family Interventions.