Diagnosing a Fetish Ch. 08

But the thought pushed me on as my finger slid inside, one knuckle at a time. I could feel my pussy tighten around my fingers as my ass was forced open. I held them there as I played with my ass, my solitary finger exploring and massaging my anal flesh as my body was overwhelmed with pleasure. I could only hold out for so long before I had to start fucking my vagina again. It was enough for me to climax with only a few seconds. I had been edging for a few minutes now, so it was unsurprising, but certainly welcome.

I deserve this.

I had to remind myself over and over as my legs became weak and my breathing labored. I deserved to feel good. My dream reminded me of that, oddly. A week ago, I was held captive by my dreams, by the self-labeled "dirty" thoughts I had. Was I completely over that hurdle? No. Even in my blind arousal, I knew that, but I also knew I was getting better. I was getting closer. Closer to being myself again. Well, myself, but also new. Someone not so hung up on every choice they made, especially when it benefited them. It was a long process and I knew I still had a ways to go. Right now, the biggest puzzle piece was Kat.

Why did it have to be Kat?

Not wanting my shower to be a total waste, I picked up the bar soap and began lathering my body as I tried to force the question from my mind. Besides, I had another problem to think about.

Today was my first appointment back with Dr. Morse.

I had the thought earlier while talking with Kat, but now I took the time to fully consider what that meant. In theory, the conflict I had with the doctor was resolved; she admitted her faults and explained the truth to me. Plus, it had been me who returned to her, so clearly there was some subconscious recognition of safety. Or it could be desperation, nowhere else to turn for support. My mind flashed back to Dr. Hodge, my body shivering at how aggravating and unhelpful that situation was. At least Dr. Morse listened to me. And seemingly wanted the best for me, I guess. Regardless, I was fully aware that it was a risk, but I was ready for it.

Or so I thought.

Upon arriving at her office and being called into the oh-so-familiar examination room, I had to admit that my gung-ho attitude was perhaps a little too confident. Although, strangely - for the first time since I started seeing her - was more hopeful than I was nervous. Not much, but it was a start. I had been making big strives towards improving myself and, with Dr. Morse's help, I may actually make some progress.

"Good afternoon, Mallory," Dr. Morse addressed me upon entering the room.

I first noticed her lack of a lab coat. With her usual garment missing, her perfect - I internally winced at the choice of word but struggled to come up with another - body was on display. She wore a sleeveless, white, button-down shirt and a knee-length pencil skirt in a deep navy, both of which left pale skin exposed. I was once again stricken by how perfect her body was, and struggled to keep my thoughts to only platonic admiration. The clothing hugged her curves quite well, highlighting her hips and ass, while also showing off her flat stomach and modest chest.

"Sorry if I kept you waiting," she continued, allowing me to break my gaze, "I was just finishing up my lunch."

"No, it's OK; I wasn't waiting too long. I just got here a few minutes ago."

"Perfect." Grabbing her notebook and a pen off her desk, she took a seat in the chair across from me. "I'm very happy that you've decided to come back. I know I said that last time I saw you but... I guess I'm still a little surprised, to be honest. But I think it's the right decision," she quickly added. "So, how have you been doing recently."

I thought back to this morning, the seeming revelation I had in the shower. "Better, I think. Still not... Still not perfect, but I think something in my brain is starting to sort itself out. I still feel a little lost, though, if I'm being honest."

"That's perfectly OK. Glad to hear there have been improvements." Her response seemed genuine enough, from my inexperienced point of view, anyway. "And the nightmares? Have they stopped?"

"Yes. Well-" I paused, "For the most part. I had a dream this morning, but it was... different, I guess."

"Dream and not nightmare? So it was better than what you had been experiencing in the past?"

I nodded.

"And you said it was different. How so? Why don't you think it was a nightmare?"

I looked down at the table, unable to make eye contact with the blonde as I grappled with what to say, how much to admit to her. "I didn't feel bad after, I guess."

"And the dream itself, what happened? Or was the only difference how it made you feel?" she asked, making a note with her pen.

"Um, it was pretty similar to the other ones I've had. But there was only pee, no... scat."

Dr. Morse took a second to consider my response before replying, "Would you say that your reaction to the dream was more positive due to the lessened severity of its contents?"

"Partially, I think."

"Partially?"

"Well, the dream was also more... tender? Personal, I guess is the word. Maybe not. I don't how to describe it, really. A lot of the nightmares I had revolved around me getting chastised for my actions, either real or otherwise. In the one I had this morning, I didn't feel any judgment. Even after I woke up, I didn't feel bad about it which hasn't happened before."

"And what do you think made it feel personal?"

"It- I-"

"Don't feel the need to tell me if you don't want to. Your dreams are yours to share if and when you want to."

"No, it's OK. I just paused because I'm still trying to figure out how to feel about it myself, to be honest. It's the one thing that made me feel a little gross afterward if I'm being honest."

"And why's that?"

"Well, my dream this morning was about Kat. She was doing... intimate things to me," I decided to leave it at that, not wanting to go into too much detail. Besides, I imagined Dr. Morse could put the rest together through context clues. "It feels weird. I don't... I don't like thinking about people like that. Like, they didn't give me consent to picture those intimate details about them, accurate or not."

"Don't be too hard on yourself. Sexual dreams are had by most of the population. You cannot control what your mind may or may not create while you sleep."

"Yeah, but then I woke up and was still aroused by the thought. And then I... acted on it in the shower. I could've controlled that and yet I chose not to."

"Sure, but again, I don't think that is inherently bad. If you were to act on your urges on another person - Kat in this case - without their consent, then it would be different. Personally, I don't believe there is anything wrong with having fantasies. That's part of being human." Dr. Morse briefly looked up from her notebook to address me directly, "That's what we're trying to work toward here, isn't it? For you to feel comfortable experiencing your fantasies?"

"I mean, I guess."

"Now, if you don't mind me asking, why do you think Kat was the one you dreamt about? I know last time you were here you mentioned kissing her. Did anything come of that?"

"No, she... we never talked about it. Again, she's been pretty busy, so I haven't seen her much. I guess it just hasn't come up. As to why I dreamt about her, I don't know. I told you; this is the first time it has happened. I kissed her over a week ago, so I don't know if that can really be pointed to as the cause of the dream."

"Fair enough. When we spoke last, you were talking about how that kiss felt, but we were interrupted. If you don't mind, I think it may be beneficial if we return to that conversation."

I shifted nervously in my seat, "It will help?"

"I believe so."

"Well, I told you it felt good," I thought back to a week ago when I last saw Dr. Morse, struggling to remember exactly what had and hadn't been discussed. To be honest, I still struggled to fully admit just how much I enjoyed the kiss, both to myself and especially to Dr. Morse. I knew she would pass no judgment, but fears were rarely rational. "When she did it - in the moment - I enjoyed it, of course. It felt special. But, thinking back, I don't know. I thought maybe she was avoiding me after, to be honest. I told you she reciprocated, but I initiated the kiss. Maybe she regrets it."

"And maybe she doesn't. It could be for your sake too, you know."

"How so?"

"Well," Dr. Morse leaned back in her chair, "She knows everything you have been struggling with for the past year, most of which is sexual in nature and centers around your recent divorce. A good friend would likely be conscious of this and careful not to push it too far. A prospective romantic partner more so."

"Well..." I paused, "She asked me to go to dinner with her tonight. Do think that's related to all of this this?"

"Honestly, couldn't tell you. I've never met Kat and I'm not psychic. However, I do feel that it may have something to do with it. At the very least, I recommend you bring this up to her. If you want answers, then you need to ask the questions to the right person."

"And if I make things awkward?"

Dr. Morse shrugged as she stood from her chair, "Then you talk with Kat and figure it out. It seems that she is doing her best to help you whenever possible. I can't imagine you asking the nature of your relationship would have catastrophic results; she will likely understand." Crossing the room, Dr. Morse grabbed her lab coat off its hook and put it on, returning to her more familiar look. "Now, we have limited time so I think we should move on to a more hands-on method."

I wasn't sure if my problem was really resolved, but I had to admit there was little Dr. Morse could do about it. She had given her advice and it was up to me to follow it. For now, however, it seemed she had other plans for her meeting, ones that I wasn't sure I was fully prepared for. 'Hands-on approach' sounded... interesting at best, but I guess this was what I asked for. I wanted her to give me the best treatment possible, even if it made me step out of my comfort zone. Although knowing her, it was more of a when than an if.

"I just want to confirm, before we start, that you are still willing to try the more experimental side of my treatment. Again, I only do what I believe will elicit the best results, but this can..." Dr. Morse trailed off, "I guess there isn't much point in telling you what can happen. For now, I just ask that you inform me when you feel uncomfortable. That is not what I am aiming to do, quite the opposite, in fact. With that in mind, do you wish to proceed?"

"Um, yes." I tried to sound more confident - I did in my head - but the nerves were present, as they always were.

Regardless, Dr. Morse pushed on, accepting my verbal consent with a subtle head nod. Turning to her desk, I watched as she pulled a keychain from her pocket, sorting through the keys before choosing one and sliding it into the bottom drawer of her desk. "You can never be too careful," she said, back still turned to me as she rummaged around, "Here we are."

I - for whatever reason - wasn't surprised to see the vibrator she brandished upon re-locking the drawer and returning to my side. It made sense, given the context clues, I guess; 'hands-on approach,' the locked drawer, Dr. Morse's pension for... sexual treatments. If she had done this on my first session, I think I would have passed out. Now, I just had a mile sense of nervousness but nothing deeper.

"For you," she handed it to me.

The vibrator was black in color, but small and unintimidating. It had a simple wand design, nothing fancy like the clit suckers or rabbit ears that I had come across during my last online shopping adventure. "Is it clean?" I asked, careful not to touch the head as I turned it over in my hands.

"It is cleaned and sanitized after every use, and it hasn't been used for quite some time. However, you can use this if you feel it is necessary," Dr. Morse stated, handing me a condom wrapper.

"OK, what now?"

"I wanted to try a version of Image Rehearsal Therapy with you. It seems the medication is helping, but I think this will be a good way to help mitigate your nightmares. In essence, IRT is used to change a person's perception of their nightmare to make it less intense, either by changing the ending, or the narrative entirely."

"How do we do that?" I asked, slightly confused what the vibrator had to do with any of this.

"In your case, I want to work with you to make your dreams a more positive experience. The fact that you had a 'good' dream this morning honestly is a big help for us, so I'm thankful for that. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to move to the bathroom now so we can continue."

As instructed, I got up and made my way to the side door, Dr. Morse unlocking it with her key before allowing me to step inside. Much to my surprise, however, she didn't follow me in. "Um, are you... coming with me?"

"I believe it better if I give you privacy for this method of therapy."

"Well, what am I supposed to do then?"

"Once I leave you alone, I would like you to disrobe and take a seat on the toilet. Then, we will work through your last nightmare. Can you remember it?"

"Yes, it happened when I was at the sleep clinic. Or... there may have been more since then. I can't say for certain, to be honest."

"But you can remember the one from the sleep clinic?"

"Yes, for the most part."

"Then we will go with that. Let me know when you are ready to start."

With that, she closed the door behind me, leaving me alone in the small bathroom. Taking a nervous breath, I set the vibrator and condom on the vanity before starting on my clothes. Assuming she intended me to disrobe entirely, I first pulled off my shirt, followed by jeans, both of which I carefully folded and set alongside the other items. Removing my underwear was perhaps a little more challenging, but I just had to remind myself that this was for the best as I removed them, too.

That left me standing naked on the tile floor, the coolness of the air more apparent without a barrier between it and my skin; I could feel goosebumps forming and my nipples hardening. Picking the condom back up, I ripped the corner of its foil packaging and pulled it out. It had been well over a year since I had used one, but I had no difficulty pushing it over the end of the vibrator and pulling it down until no wrinkles remained.

As I was wondering what to do next, a subtle knock came from the other side of the door. "Everything good in there Mallory?"

"Yeah, I got undressed and I'm getting on the toilet now. What am I supposed to do next."

"You said you remembered what happened in your nightmare, yes? I want you to talk through it with me while you pleasure yourself with the provided instrument."

Her language was very scientific and honestly not doing much to get me in the mood; an unfortunate side effect considering I was already quite a ways from arousal. Flipping the vibrator in my hands, I managed to find its button and turned it on, the head jumping to life with a mild vibration. Keeping it at the lowest intensity, I took a shaky breath and lowered it between my legs, my body lurching at the initial contact before it acclimated. "I'm, ah... I'm ready to go." I could feel my face flush as the words left my mouth.

"Good," Dr. Morse responded, her voice muffled, "We are just going to work through the dream, OK? How did it start?"

"I- I was in the bed at the sleep clinic. I just woke up, no..." It was hard enough to remember the nightmare already and the added distraction of the vibrator against my clit was making it significantly more difficult. "You woke me up. You were disconnecting the electrodes from me."

"Pardon? You're going to have to speak louder, I can barely hear you."

"You woke me up," I repeated, "While you were taking the electrodes off me, you started touching my body. I think you pulled my hair? Yeah, you grabbed my hair and used it to get on top of me."

"Your hair?" Dr. Morse shouted back, "OK. You're still using the- the tool I gave you?"

I could tell that she was trying to be discrete, but I was almost positive that people outside of her office could hear her. And, if I was being honest, she wasn't that discrete. It was clear Dr. Morse was trying to help, but her methods were less than ideal. I could tell that she was still unsure of my level of comfort, trying to shape her normal treatments around a set of rules to make sure I didn't have another panic attack or something similar. Unfortunately, while her caution was admirable, it was also having a quite obvious impact on her ability to treat me.

Therefore, it was a surprisingly easy decision to get up from the toilet and open the door, exposing my fully naked body to the doctor for the first time since meeting her. I was still nervous, of course; I don't think I would ever be able to stop that. When I felt her eyes on my body, it was even worse, but her equal surprise helped slightly, in a strange way. It was clear Dr. Morse wasn't expecting me to do something so brash. Her gaze didn't know where to fall, her eyes darting from between my legs, to my chest, to the floor with a sudden bout of self-awareness and embarrassment.

"Mallory!"

My name was the only thing she managed to get out. For the first time possibly ever, the usually unshakable blonde couldn't think of anything to say. So I spoke for her and did my best to ease the tension and keep the session going. "I'm sorry, but I told you I wanted treatment to go back to how it was before. I- I know you're trying to help me while keeping some boundaries, but it's not working. At least, not for this treatment. I can't shout at you through a bathroom door; you and I both know that doesn't work."

"B-But... this is... I guess I didn't expect this from you. Such a big step. "A-Are you sure you are OK with this? That this is what you want to do?"

"Yes. We both know this will be better for me." With that, I returned to the toilet, leaving Dr. Morse to hover in the open door of the bathroom. I could tell she was still hesitant. Hell, I was still hesitant. But, like I told her, this was the better option. I wanted to get better, to get over the issues I had been plagued by, and this was how I needed to do that.

She watched me for a few seconds - though it felt like a lifetime - before conceding and pulling a chair next to the toilet. "So, um, you said I woke you up? In your nightmare?"

"Yes, you woke me up and started touching me," I replied, avoiding eye contact as I pleasured myself, "You took off my shirt and touched my breasts while holding me down."

"And how did that make you feel?"

"Scared, I guess."

"OK, so this is where we change your perception of the scenario. Why were you scared?"

"Because it was you," I felt my face turn red at the admission, "At the time, I thought you were still using me. I thought... I wasn't sure if I was at the sleep clinic for my treatment, or because you wanted me there. In my head, you were going to take advantage of me."

"Let's change it then. If me touching you was the problem, maybe you put yourself back in that situation, but you replaced me with someone else. Maybe Kat? Or whoever you want; you don't have to tell me. Just picture them in your mind, in my place, touching you as they take off the probes."

As she suggested, Dr. Morse morphed into Kat in my mind. I could feel my body react at the thought, my vagina quivering as I picture the woman's soft, dark hands caressing my tender flesh and massaging my chest. Absentmindedly, I let my hand wander, mimicking what I imagined as I did it. "You were choking me," I had to remind myself what we were doing, "And then you got on top of me."