It's a Process

Midas knelt happily as Broussard relaxed on the couch, her fabulous gams straining the expensive hosiery he'd bought her from Niemen-Marcus.

The therapist, also a bit of a dish leaned forward encouragingly. Dr. Dunnigan had helped them so much!

It was rare to find a shrink who knew the ins and outs of the sadomasochistic psyche, and Kirraleigh Dunnigan, PhD. was a rare gem.

"It's goin' real good." Broussard said, smiling at the doc. "I didn't really understand much when we first started up, but six months of the meetings with you, and I think I got a handle on all this."

She giggled. "I think when I use the strap-on with him, y'know, it helps me lose weight, it's aerobic, sort of."

Broussard was a recent émigré to Buttermilk Falls, coming here just to become Mrs. Midas McGillicuddy.

She and Midas had met on an online dating site, and he'd been fascinated by her bored, big hair look, much like the wife on "Married with Children." a hit from the 1980s.

The big hair look seemed to drive him wild, while Broussard had been taken by his portfolio, of the financial kind.

"And Midas got me a nice Chevy Corvette and got Skee-Ball a Subaru Forester, so he can drive to the track, 'cos Skee-ball wrecked Midas's Jeep. Yes, my new hubby has been real sweet."

"Your new slave." Dr. Kirra corrected Broussard gently

It had taken some time for Midas to convince Broussard that she didn't have to be so nice to him in return for his generosity, and that he didn't need to be a recipient of her world-famous blowjob capabilities.

In fact, she didn't need to be nice to Midas at all.

"It's real funny when I get Midas all gussied up in the Little Bo Peep outfit and then use the cattle prod...I filmed it and sent it to my Mom back in Canarsie.

"More I kick him around, an' he gets me more furs and jewelry and clothes. I am lovin' it so far."

"I really enjoyed you comin' over, Kirra to help me with the stocks and teaching me about the St. Andrew's Cross and all."

The doctor winked and bestowed a generous smile on the kneeling submissive husband as well.

Broussard had initially been slow to dominate. Having been mistreated by men all her life, her self-esteem was fairly low.

She had half-heartedly spanked Midas when he'd asked her to, but then he'd brought her to Dr. Dunnigan and now Broussard had developed quite a swinging arm.

She felt far better about herself, and was taking pottery classes and subscribing to magazines, and Midas had also paid for Broussard to send for her no-good boyfriend, Skee-Ball from Queens all the way to this nice little Midwestern hamlet.

"And Midas and Skee-Ball get along real good though it was odd to us that Midas wanted to sleep in a cage by our bed."

Broussard reflected a moment while adjusting her lip gloss. "Yeah, that freaked Skee out a little, but he's real strict Catholic."

Broussard ruffled Midas's hair affectionately, slightly displacing his toupee. How happy Midas was down on the floor. He'd stripped naked when the appointment had started.

Dr. Kirraleigh Dunnigan had explained to the happy couple by their third session that Midas needed to get into the mentality of being the humiliated submissive.

This way he'd shut up more and not subject the women to mansplaining and bravado.

(The toenail polish and the butt-plug he had shoved up the wazoo also helped with this.)

It all seemed to have worked!

"He had this fantasy of servin' us food in bed, but Midas can't cook worth shit, and I don't really want to?" Broussard continued.

"But he hired this great chef who gives him stuff to bring up, all kindsa Chinese food, Eye-Talian, French shit like Salade Nicoise an' crepes, don't you know."

Dr. Kirra Dunnigan smiled. "Yes, the fantasy is usually easier than the reality. Men rarely can clean or do much very well. If a man is a gourmet chef, he probably isn't submissive. Good thing you worked that one out."

"Sometimes I pretend something Midas brings me is over-cooked or somethin, and I swat him with the tray, or throw hot coffee at his crotch, or get a cane and hop outta bed and beat the shit out of him."

Both women snickered as they saw Midas's penis become quite erect.

"Skee-Ball thinks this is a hoot. Good thing you showed me how to use the canes and whips, or I might have killed the poor bastard by now. But he seems to be doin' fine."

"I love you so much, Mistress Brosi" murmured Midas happily.

"Remember, to keep him fascinated with you, limit his orgasms to less than one a month" the doctor advised.

************************************

"Your next appointment is in the back office." the receptionist said to Kirra without smiling.

"Yes ma'am." Kirra said simply, ducking her head and heading down the hall.

"So you're Mister Stottlemeyer?" the dark haired therapist asked.

Stott scoped her out. All that raven hair, and what a shape! Not like any social worker he'd ever met. And it was covered by Blue Cross!

"Yeah, I go by Stott." Stott said. "You're a professional submissive too?"

This was much too good to be true.

"Yes sir. I'm Kirra Dunnigan."

"Oh, you don't have to "Sir" me, Doctor-"

"No, if you want to be a master, you have to act like one. But we'll ease you into it, sir."

This seemed to be happening way too fast.

"I understand from reviewing your file that you have trouble being forceful, and assertive with women. And you fantasize about being dominant, right?"

Kirra looked carefully at the unassuming man sitting across from her.

Stott felt a little silly. It did seem ridiculous that he wanted to dominate a woman. Was he some kind of pervert.

"Do you like my dress, Mr. Stottlemeyer?"

She was wearing a short print dress that accentuated her long legs, and her chest looked like it might burst free and run away.

"Y-yes, but-"

"You must understand, that some women are in need of guidance, in dire need of discipline. Sometimes just a few words, and others real harsh punishment."

She dimpled at him. " What do you think you'd like to do to me?"

**************************************************

Dr. Kirraleigh Dunnigan's housemaid, Hiroko, a comely Taiwanese exchange student was beating her employer severely with a two foot length of plastic plumbing supply tube.

WHACK! THWACK! SMACK!

"When you learn (WHACK!) to not lose car keys?" demanded Hiroko.

Hiroko had removed her apron and was just in her cut off tee and shorts, and Kirra was in bra and panties, the latter rolled around her knees as her tender bottom took vicious slap after slap from the unforgiving plastic.

Sobbing, Kirra promised she would be more careful.

"You say that. I no believe you." Hiroko swatted Kirra again and threw down the tubing. "You say you quit smoking, I find full ashtray."

"Yes-yes Hiroko, I know-you made me eat my butts." Kara's stomach turned as she remembered.

"You lie, and you lazy and how you say, indolent? Goddamned American spoiled slut."

Hiroko pulled Kirra off the bed and stood the taller woman in front of her. Suddenly she slapped Kirra and the therapist fell on her ass.

Hiroko pulled Kirra back to her feet by her hair. "You lucky I am in good mood. I show you where your keys are. "

Lucky? After she'd lambasted the doctor's full pink bottom with that heavy tube?

"You are ungrateful, Doctor Dunnigan. I should quit."

Kirra looked at Hiroko, as she wept. Since the Asian had come to look after Kara's house, she'd really straightened out some bad habits.

Hiroko put her hand on her hip and regarded her cowering employer.

The Asian went to the dining room table. Snapping her fingers, she summoned Dr. Dunnigan to her side, and then took Kirra by the ear and brought her to her knees, and there, under the dining room table, were Kara's keys.

Hiroko shook Kara's head by the scalp till the therapist's eyes rolled.

"Why you not keep your keys in bowl by door? How many times must Kirra tell you?"

She made Kirraleigh pick the keys up with her teeth.

"Next time I throw keys in toilet and make you take them out with your mouth, stupid Yankee pig."

Kirra blew her nose and dressed for work, feeling very aroused. She wanted to ask Hiroko if she could do a number between her legs, but there would be time for that later.

When Kirra entered her office, she dodged, as her receptionist had thrown a pencil at her.

"You are late again, Kirra." the girls said, eyebrows narrowing. "I am going to have to rip that pretty blouse off and staple your nipples together again, I think."

"I'm sorry, but-"

Kirra ducked as a paperweight sailed over her head.

"Mr. Stottlemeyer has been waiting nearly thirty minutes!"

Capouya was a former Israeli sniper who was trying to adjust into office work, and answering the phone often made her tense. It was unfortunate that she took this out on the boss, but she seemed calmer after some time.

Capouya smiled. "I might bring you off with my heel at lunch if you're a good girl, Dr. Dunnigan."

"Th-thank you, Capouya."

Hester, Kara's middle aged office manager also looked displeased. "The bills haven't been processed because you've neglected once again to sign off on all these releases."

Hester crooked a long nail at Kirra, who sighed glumly and ducked into the accounts room. As Kirra tried to apologize, Hester spun around and gave Dr. Dunnigan a roundhouse slap.

Dazed, Kirra tried to stand still. Hester reached under Kirraleigh's skirt and began rubbing the therapist's clit.

"You're a bad girl, do I have to cut nettles from the back yard and shove them in your panties? Maybe crickets, or fire ants?"

Kirra gasped with intense desire.

She was so lucky to have a devoted office staff.

"You are fortunate I took the two fingered tawse home for the weekend to deal with my husband and the spring cleaning." Hester murmured. "Now munch my carpet. Mr. Stottlemyer can wait."

The office manager dropped to a chair and Kirra burrowed under her house dress happily.

Finally, Dr. Dunnigan, with sore knees, let herself into her own office and there was Stott, patient but hopeful.

"I am so sorry I am late, Mr. Stottlemyer."

"You are worth waiting for, Doc."

Kirra shook her head. "No, that's not the way to handle me. Would you like me to take off my shirt so you can slap one of my breasts?"

"Huh? Oh wow."

This was all so fun, the past four months of therapy. Just the week before, to boost his confidence, Kirra had given Stott a long, sloppy, blowjob.

Stott had just sprawled on the couch and his beautiful, sophisticated shrink had crouched on her nyloned knees, her skirt bunched out, and she'd licked his penis for forty-five minutes.

After which she'd asked him if he'd like to kick her in the stomach, but he'd demurred.

Later, Stott had told his Uncle Slattery about it, and Slats had wondered if he, too needed therapy.

"Slats, you treat women like shit. You don't need to be counseled."

And it was so nice of her...he couldn't afford to see Kirra more than once a month.

The Stottlemeyers, tenant farmers grew corn, soybeans, wheat and hay, but were now mortgaged to the hilt.

So Kirra had been letting him visit on a sliding scale...and it was like heaven...

Today, Kirra smiled at Stott. In a way he reminded Kirra of her husband Emile.

Emile had been a cruel man, and he'd left poor Kirra for a pre-op tranny, but Emile and Stott seemed to have the same ice-blue eyes.

Kirra thought wistfully of the way Emil's azure eyes blazed when he did marvelously imaginative things to her...

Once they'd stopped by a honky-tonk roadhouse filled with the worst sort of people, Buttermilk Falls's trailer trash...the kind she'd never met in her indulged, sheltered life.

And he'd made Kirra strip and dance on a table and suck so many dicks!

Then Emile had encouraged one of the sluttiest barmaids to shove ice cubes up her own cunt and then force them down Kara's throat.

"Next week we do truck stops!" Emile had said as he'd dragged his sobbing, humiliated wife out of the bar.

But that night she had thrown Emile down and fucked him madly...the humiliation had been so intense!

Emile's new pain slut, the lady boy who went improbably by "Armweary" was rich and well placed and he loved it when Emile pinched his tits and kicked him in the nuts.

It was said that Armweary was going to have himself castrated by a surgeon and ask Emile to monitor this...

And the two were moving to Monaco or someplace, and Kirra would never see Emile again.

Was there any one like Emile? Anywhere? No.

Yet in a way she felt herself drawn to Stott. Were there any similarities?

Emile was into paisley ascots and elbow patches on his jackets, ankle boots, that kind of thing. Stott, of course complemented his concert tees with musty overalls...

But Stott had possibilities, Kirra thought. She could work on him, right?

It seemed that most of Kara's other clients, those who had fantasies of domination were old and repulsive.

Although she let them spank and occasionally torture her, she wanted nothing from her except for their money.

(Kind of like Emile had wanted from her, right?)

But this sweet, simple man sitting before her...Stottlemeyer.

She thought about giving Stott another slurpee this afternoon.

At six a.m, before the drama of the keys, Hiroko had made Dr. Dunnigan eat a bucket of very bitter laundry soap chips for immoderately using the word "Shit" (Hiroko was an evangelical Christian when it suited her to be, and offended easily...unless she herself was cursing.)

Perhaps if she sucked on Stott long enough, she could get the vile laundry taste out of her mouth.

"I was wondering, " Stott said shyly, interrupting Kara's reverie. "About spanking?"

I've had enough of that for today, Kirra thought to herself sourly, but mental health comes first. Optimistically, she leaned forward. "Yes?"