Stephanie: A Very Good Girl

Alison clamped her hand over her mouth, in anguish.

Stephanie was sobbing openly, now. "He left me there, on the bathroom floor," she managed. "I cried for half an hour--I was bereft, do you understand? I've never felt so--so--discarded." She looked across at her ashen-faced therapist. "Never again. I had to apologise--on my hands and knees. I was apologising to his cock, telling it how abjectly sorry I was, for refusing it admission, even once, do you understand?
"So when he says Code Seven! now, there's no hesitation, not a hint of reluctance. I keep a tube of KY on that table, ready, now. When he comes into the kitchen he finds me bent over, skirt up, and my well lubed arse stuck out, presented for penetration, like a total, compliant, slut. " She looked into Alison's eyes. "Is that bad?"

Alison exhaled, releasing something. "No," she replied. "No--it's not. It's real." She wanted her to receive her words, not just hear them. "Do you believe me, Stephanie? I hope you do."

"Yes," she said." I think I do."

"Have you," Alison asked finally, "have you given much thought as to why he does that? Code Seven, I mean? Just...injecting you with it?""

She shrugged. "Likes the power. Obeisance." A pause. "Bloke," she added. She looked...open.

Alison decided it could do no harm. She steeled herself. "Could it have been some kind of gift?"

Stephanie's eyes almost popped. "A gift!? A butthole full of nutcustard is...some kind of gift, did you say?" She looked as though she was about to attack. "How can it be a gift!" she demanded.

"Well," she began, "who decides when...it--the whatever-it-is, is conferred? The giver--or the recipient?" She stopped, gauging Stephanie's attitude. "If it's the recipient who decides when, is it a gift--or more of a...supply?" She was looking at an almost transfixed Stephanie, her jaw set.

"Go on," the jaw said, simply--Get on with doing my head in...

Her therapist continued. "If it's the giver that decides, at a time of his choosing, in a manner of his choosing, then...how can it not be a gift?" She found herself actually grinning, and hoped she wouldn't take it the wrong way...
She went on. "You said earlier, didn't you, that he doesn't see anyone else--he chose you, no-one else. It's easy to see why he chose you--"

"Why? Why did he, do you think?"

"You know why--you've seen your own reflection in your mirror. You like what you see--fondle yourself, looking at your own body."

"How do you know that?" she shot back.

"Because I do it. Anyone who is as sexually attractive as you does it. How tall are you--five ten?"

"Yes."

"Eleven stones?"

"Round about, yes..."

"And it's all in the right places, Stephanie--just like me. Full breasts, full bottom, full thighs, jiggly in all the right places? It's what makes men stiff, just watching us move around, never mind sexual activity...do you agree with any of this?"

"Yes...I think so."

"You masturbate to your reflection sometimes, stroking your curvy bits, don't you?"

"Yes." She swallowed, not managing to conceal it.

"Yes, we do, don't we. We're not afraid of people seeing us naked, are we--strangers? In a safe environment? There's nothing to be embarrassed about, with the way we look, is there..."

"No," Stephanie admitted. "No, there isn't. We do look good."

"Yes-we-do. We can be...proud. So who has...Whatsisname--chosen to bestow his gift upon, a Miss Average on the street, or an Amazon?"

"I'm an Amazon?" She blinked.

"Yes, you are. You know you are. The way you look, the way you move and the way you...come across, say you are. So, therefore, you..?" she coaxed.

"Therefore...I deserve my gift! He gives it to me! Only me!"

"Yes--you're a Goddess, and he's a God! Probably," she amended, with a grin. "Priapus, at least," was added for levity.

"He is a God," Stephanie conceded, nodding.

Alison shifted in her chair. "Remember what he did to you--what it did to you, when he flushed it down the toilet? You were destroyed by it..."

"Yes," Stephanie had to concur. "destroyed. He flushed it...my--"

"Yours." Triumphant.

"My spunk. My spunk. The most valuable...He flushed it away. That's that, then...Don't want it, eh?" She was filling up. "Then look--there it goes: no more of that, for you, Madam--" She pushed the pathetic, soggy tissue into her face and sobbed. Her therapist reached gently across, touching Stephanie's knee.

A wordless minute later, Stephanie looked up. "I am lucky, aren't I..."

"Told you," Alison smiled, and Stephanie couldn't help but smile too.

"We'll--we'll have to leave it there for today, Stephanie," Alison said, putting away her pen. "I have to ask you, one more thing though, before we wrap up..."

"What's that?" A sniffle.

"For my records, you understand? What's his, ah, full name and address? Where does he live?" Her tongue was playing with her lip.

The toothy grin again. "Not telling you," she said.

END

To be continued...?